Standing up, the Blackfrost let his handful of dirt fall and brushed his palms against his leather-clad thigh. “Long ago, some of the more superstitious dreki used to sacrifice Chaos-wielders to the gods. It’s a dangerous magic and many argued that to allow one who could wield it to walk free was to invite ruin and destruction.”
“If anyone even thinks they’re going to lay hands on my wife, then they will have to go through me.” Haakon bristled.
“Easy,” Tormund muttered, squeezing his cousin’s shoulder. “Nobody is going to hurt Árdís. Besides, she’s mean enough to eat them herself.”
“And the Zini clan allows Chaos practitioners,” the Blackfrost replied. “It is only some of the older clans who are still steeped in tradition that follow the old ways and kill their Chaos-wielders.”
And then he frowned.
Bryn barely knew him, but she could read the unease in his posture. “What’s wrong?”
“There was something the völva said before she unleashed her draugr about a Monster With No Name. There is a dreki prophecy that claims a Chaos-weaver will spawn the destruction of the world. A very famous poem was written about it, and one of the lines says ‘Destruction has no name….’”
“Could be coincidence,” Tormund said.
The Blackfrost’s brows drew together. “I don’t believe in coincidence. There’s a cult of dreki who believe in the prophecy. They call themselves the Keepers of Order, and they believe the Destroyer will come from Chaos. Some of them are natural Voids, which makes them immune to Chaos magic. Their followers circumnavigate the world, seeking to hunt the few Chaos-wielders that remain.”
Haakon stilled. “Why am I only now discovering this?”
Tormund settled a hand on his shoulder. “She’s safe, cousin. Rurik will sacrifice his entire court full of dreki to protect his sister. Nobody is going to hurt Árdís.”
“The Keepers are easy enough to avoid as they wear marks tattooed on their faces,” the Blackfrost said. “And for all Queen Amadea’s faults, she banned the Keepers from Iceland upon pain of death. They may not have realized the queen is gone. Árdís will be safe.”
Dreki and their plots. Bryn crossed to the burial mound, kicking at a scattering of kroner. But she kept an ear open. Chaos magic was something even the gods avoided—except for Loki—and this job seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute.
Ragnarök, the völva had said.
That word was enough to send a chill down her spine, for most of her life’s purpose had been spent preparing for the end of the world.
And a Monster With No Name.
What did that mean?
She was no longer Valkyrie—not in the true sense of the word—but she had been raised to protect the world, and that calling hadn’t completely faded. She needed to know more.
Tormund looked toward the east. “How would Marduk hear the song if he cannot wield Chaos?”
The Blackfrost hauled his pack over his shoulder. “He shouldn’t be able to.”
“Perhaps someone else is using such magics, and he is searching for them?” Bryn called, lifting her arm as Sýr came soaring in. The merlin landed on her glove and Bryn rubbed her under the beak. “You dreki believe in true mates, yes?”
The three men exchanged glances.
“Would Marduk have felt the mating bond?” Haakon asked.
“Possibly.” The Blackfrost shook his head. “If he has found his mate, then it will be next to impossible to part them. If she can weave Chaos, then…” He cursed under his breath. “This is not ideal.”
“Chaos magic and charming, reckless princes.” Tormund sighed as he shot Haakon an exasperated look. “Why couldn’t you marry some plump, pretty blonde with a dozen goats? Why did you have to fall in love with a dreki princess?”
Haakon flashed him a smile. “Because life is meant to be an adventure. Why settle for hearth and pasture when you can ride the storm?”
“Because you live longer.”
Bryn lifted Sýr into the air as the pair of them bickered. “Hunt,” she told the merlin, and let her fly. The bird soared into the sky with her wing feathers spread. She’d scour the forest for food before returning.
Today had been difficult—Haakon watched Bryn with calculating eyes, and the Blackfrost was clearly suspicious about the sword—but she was one step closer to finding Marduk.
And now she had to ensure she didn’t get left behind.
“Thank you for your help today,” Haakon told her, as if he was thinking of the same thing. “We’ll see you safely back to town and then be on our—”
“I want to come.” Bryn tugged her leather gauntlet off and tucked it behind her belt.
“We will travel far before we find Marduk,” the Blackfrost told her.
Haakon stiffened. “And this is not the type of journey for a—”
“Woman?” She arched a brow. “I can hold my own, Dragonsbane. And there is clearly money to be earned in this venture.”
“I wasn’t referring to your gender,” Haakon replied. “You’ve said yourself: You’re a mercenary. And we haven’t offered you more coin.”
Damn it. She’d been too eager. “I think I’ve proven I’m worth the gold. And you might need another sword.”
Tormund shot her a slow, steady look. “She might be useful.”
The cousins exchanged glances.
“We don’t travel by foot,” Haakon replied. “And this is a personal mission.”
“Why are you so interested in finding the prince?” the Blackfrost asked.
Bryn pressed her lips together. If they left her behind, she’d never have a chance to earn Solveig’s reward. “You want the truth? Marduk owes me good coin, and I want it.”
“You’ve met the prince?” Tormund’s eyes narrowed suspiciously upon her, and she knew he was thinking of her earlier comments about the handsome blond prince seducing half the women in town.
“Not face-to-face. I did a job for him up north,” she lied, “and he vanished before he could pay my employer. It was a lot of coin.”
“How much does he owe you?” Haakon asked her, reaching for the purse at his side.
“More than mere gold,” she told him, staring at him flatly as her heart kicked along. She was so close she could taste it. “And I will take the payment from him, and not an emissary.” She tipped her chin up. “You could say mine is a personal mission too.”
Tormund’s mouth pressed thinly together as if he’d tasted something sour.
It was probably a good thing. She’d seen him looking at her with the kind of interest she often saw in males. And though he had pretty brown eyes, a generous mouth, and a set of arms that made her look twice, she couldn’t help thinking it wouldn’t be a good idea to fall into bed with him.
This was a job.
And she was going to betray them.
The stakes were so high she couldn’t risk allowing physical—or emotional—entanglements. Sorry, big man. It will be better this way….
“I won’t interfere in your mission,” she promised, then looked the Blackfrost in the eye. “But Marduk gave my employer his word. And dreki must always keep their word, is that not true? As his cousin, you owe me the chance to recoup my earnings from him.”