“She’s decided that you should be able to leave?”
“We’re going to train.”
“Worth a laugh, maybe.”
Vár stood up and stretched, Erik moving away from the door to let Göll out. Göll had shifted her clothes to something less conspicuous. Even though neither of them knew where the lot was Göll insisted that Vár walk in front.
“She thinks I mean to kill you.” Vár chuckled at the thought and then yawned. “Rich coming from a valkyrie.”
Neither of his attendants offered any conversation and they didn’t exactly get along swimmingly, so the prospect of trying to start one up seemed stupid. There was less foot traffic in the part of town they were moving through, so Göll’s spear drew less attention. It still garnered a few stares, but it wasn’t nearly the issue that her outfit had been.
They made it to the lot around the time the sun had burnt away a thin morning haze. The lot itself was overgrown at the edges and filled with cracked concrete through the middle. It was surrounded on two sides by the windowless backs of buildings and another by a tangle of brush and a few trees that must have been not worth removing. The remaining side of the lot pointed toward a highway on-ramp. It occurred to Erik that this wasn’t necessarily an ideal place to do anything if the people who meant to kill him could fly as high into the air as his minders’ regular checks suggested.
He walked to the center of the lot, with Göll following behind him. Vár waited casually at the far edge.
“Do I need a sword or something?”
He saw Vár move out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head in time to see a short sword land on the concrete and slide toward him. It was dinged up and scuffed.
He looked at Vár and called to her. “Where did this come from?”
She only smiled. It made him hesitant to pick up the sword, but there weren’t likely to be any others around, or if there were, they were likely just as suspect in origin. He grabbed the blade. It was lighter than he’d imagined swords to be. A few idle practice swings drew a scoff from Göll.
“Really? Just from that?”
“It embarrasses me to watch.”
Erik rolled his entire neck from one side to the other. “I mean, I know… you… could you be nice? Tact? You picked me, remember?”
“Ready your sword.”
“Oh, I can’t swing it, but I know how to do that.”
Göll rolled her eyes, the biggest hint of any sort of human emotion he’d seen. Her spear formed down to a sword the same size as his. She placed both hands around the grip and assumed a stance that Erik copied as best he could. She seemed satisfied and her weapon shifted back to the spear it normally was.
“Near enough.” She backed a few steps away. “You must be ready. Push the blade away, do not try to stop it.”
“Got it. Ready.”
She charged at him, the spear glowing, and Erik’s muscles tensed, freezing him in place. She slapped the sword out of his hands with the blade of her spear and pointed the tip at his face.
Erik stood bolt upright, backing away. “Okay, clearly wasn’t ready. That’s fine. I’m new. Right?”
He could hear Vár laughing from the side of the lot. Whatever pretense of respect she’d been operating under on the first day was gone now that he’d met Hel. The mockery only made him feel more determined to shut her up, so he went to retrieve the sword and took his stance again.
“Okay! Definitely ready this time.”
She charged again to the same result. The sword clattered on the concrete and Vár had to turn away to catch her breath. When she’d finally settled herself, Vár managed to mock him between fits.
“She’s… so slow. Ahaha! And you, you… and you… still you cannot even move.” She slapped her leg.
Erik retrieved the sword, annoyed. She wasn’t wrong, but the enthusiasm of her insults wasn’t heartening.
“Ignore her.” Göll’s voice was softer than it had been. “You must learn. You must move.”
Erik nodded. He concentrated on watching her feet, rather than the blade. It made him nervous, but if he could just mimic her movement, it might be alright. She charged again, and it went worse than before. He moved a foot back, stumbling over the other and falling to the ground before she even got to him. Vár started up again in the distance. Erik rose quickly this time, dusting himself off.
“Again. Let’s go.”
She charged again and again and the result was the same each time. Göll was unwilling to pretend there was improvement and chided him for expecting it so soon. She was readying for another charge when she stopped and looked toward the overpass. Hild and Thrúd stood on the edge of it, silently watching.
“Why aren’t they coming after me?”
Göll considered them for a moment and then looked at Vár. “Most likely because she is here. It leaves them no open side.”
“They always fight in pairs?”
“Most.”
Göll went back to her position and readied herself. She charged and slapped the sword again. He’d managed to keep the sword in his hands about half of the past dozen or so times. It had become his goal to both move and hold the sword. She charged and slapped. He held, taking a few steps back, readying himself again. His wrist had begun to hurt, but he couldn’t allow himself to worry about it, not with the valkyries watching. He wanted to seem at least more capable of mounting a defense than a toddler.
Eric tensed as Göll charged again, but only for the tiniest spec of a second. He managed to push himself backward, away from her blade, but one of his hands came from the grip of the sword. In a panic, he balled it just as Göll’s spearhead made contact with the metal of the sword. For no reason he could express, his
