Mist

believed I knew where the Treasures were all along, why didn’t he try to force me to tell him before he ran off with Gungnir?”

“I have no answer,” Dainn said.

Of course he doesn’t, Mist thought sourly. “Loki did believe I was

Freya in there, didn’t he?”

“His behavior indicates he was fully convinced.”

“And he was scared. He didn’t expect any of it. When I . . . did what I did, he didn’t know how to fight back.” She struggled to find the right words. “I know he never stopped trying to get Freya in the sack. I can see why he’d hate her, but why the fear? He’s the one with all the advantages now. He deceived the Aesir, he took Gungnir, but for a few seconds it was as if he couldn’t fight at all.” Dainn’s hesitation was so brief she almost missed it. “Their relationship was far more complicated than it appeared to others in Asgard.”

“How?”

Dainn tugged at his collar, smoothing it as if it belonged to an expensive suit rather than a set of rags held together by dirt and blood. “It is something Freya did not consider necessary to tell me.”

“Need-to-know basis again, huh?” She snorted. “That’s convenient.”

“I am sorry—”

“Skip it. Let’s go back to what happened before he thought I turned into Freya. He still wanted me on his side even after I said I couldn’t tell him where my Sisters are. Even after he was ready to kill me. Why?”

Brushing black hair away from his face, Dainn studied Mist as if he were deciding whether or not to trust her.

“He must have realized you would soon discover who you were and finally come into your power. He would have known that it was not only Gungnir the Lady sought when she sent her agent to find you.”

“Then I was right,” Mist said, her heart like an iron billet pressing against her ribs. “Freya never gave a damn about me in Asgard.

But now I’m useful to her somehow, aren’t I?”

“You are her daughter, but you are also Odin’s servant. Before the Last Battle, she was unable to—”

“Bullshit.” Mist turned sharply away, took a few steps, and swung toward Dainn again. “Why would the First Valkyrie let her own daughter serve another god if she cared about her? She hasn’t suddenly developed some powerful maternal instinct for me. She has a use for me now that this war’s about to begin, and I know what it is.” She pushed her face close to Dainn’s. “I’m not completely blind, Dainn. She needs a physical shape in Midgard, and I’m some kind of conduit for her power.”

He didn’t even blink. “You are mistaken,” he said. “She could not simply force her way into your mind, even if she were inclined to do so.”

“She’s a goddess.”

“And so will you be.”

“I’m a warrior, not an Asynja.”

“A warrior knows she must use every advantage in a fight. You have inborn abilities you have scarcely begun to explore. It is your magic, not your skill with a sword, that will help us in this battle.” Mist searched his eyes, torn between a desperate need to believe him and the fear that he was still lying to her, that he would never stop lying no matter how many times she threatened him. It didn’t help that she saw genuine concern in his eyes. Regret, sorrow, compassion for what she was going through. Almost as if he’d been in the same situation himself.

“Freya regrets that she never acknowledged you in Asgard,” Dainn said quietly.

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” She backed away, putting a little more space between them. “Who was my father?”

“Freya did not—”

“Tell you,” Mist finished for him. Norns knew it could have been one of a hundred Jotunar Freya had lain with. Not all of them were ugly, barbaric monsters. Some had magic well beyond that of an ordinary giant.

In any case, this time she believed that Dainn really didn’t know.

“If Freya isn’t just using me as . . . some kind of anchor in Midgard, what does she want from me? Aside from my apparent ability to scare the shit out of Loki without knowing how I did it.”

“Nothing has changed except your knowledge of your heritage.

We must keep Loki from turning the Treasures against the gods.”

“Gungnir didn’t work for Loki.”

“He knows his possession of them is the key to ultimate victory.

That is why we must and will stop him.”

Mist shivered. What if she really did have magic she could use against Loki to get Gungnir back, find her Sisters, and warn them before Loki got to them? Was it really that simple?

No, not simple. She’d have to acknowledge what she was, that she was capable of what she’d done in Vidarr’s office. More than that—

she’d have to accept it completely and make it a part of herself. Become a creature of magic. The prospect was . . .

Terrifying. But she knew something about unpleasant truths: if you didn’t find a way to deal with them, you’d never be able to live with yourself.

And as long as it was her choice, she could decide what to do with it. She could find a way to turn the ugly tactics she’d used against Loki into something she could live with. A warrior’s way. “I don’t want this,” she began, steeling herself for the inevitable.

“But if it has to be done, then I’ll—”

She broke off. Dainn’s expression had changed again, his face growing more gaunt, his eyes haunted, his gaze burning and bitter. It was as if something ferocious, unpredictable, and utterly unelflike had awakened within him, shredding his usual nearly emotionless demeanor like tissue in a typhoon.

She had seen that expression twice before, once when they had first met and again in the loft. She hadn’t understood it then, and she didn’t now.

“You need do nothing,” he said. “Walk away, Valkyrie.” Mist laughed to cover her bewilderment. “Walk away? What kind of crap is this? You just finished doing everything you could to get

me involved.”

“Yes.”

His irises were nearly black, and his upper lip twitched like an angry dog’s. But there were other emotions in his face—that concern she’d seen before, worry, and fear. But not for himself. “I give you this chance,” he said. “Take it.”

“That almost sounds like a threat.”

“It is a warning, and the last I will offer.”

“It isn’t your choice to make, is it? Don’t you take your orders from Freya?”

“She and I are not in constant contact, nor can she read my mind.

By the time we speak again, I will have found a way to deal with her.” He was deadly serious. But he wasn’t making any sense. She’d bluffed about being able to tell whether or not Dainn was lying, but the only thing she was sure about was that Dainn was trying to give her a way out of a responsibility she wanted no part of. Before she could speak again, Dainn spun on his heel and began to walk away.

“Dainn!” she called after him.

He stopped without turning around.

“I don’t know what secrets you’re keeping,” she said, coming up behind him, “but I know you’re being more honest now than you’ve been since we’ve met. If I supposedly have so much ‘power,’ why are you afraid for me?”

“For you? Perhaps I am the coward you named me.”

Mist reached for his arm and grasped it lightly, feeling his pulse throbbing through rags and flesh alike.

“Whatever you are,” she said, “I know you tried to help when you kept the Jotunar occupied. You gave me a way to fight back when Loki almost had me. And you know I can’t let Loki have Midgard.

The Aesir have to win.”