“Not,” Regine insisted, dangerously close to using her sword. She was angry, and it made her irrational. Myst took her by the arm as Astra gripped Brandon’s wrist and pulled him away from the Valkyries. While her light had been used to fuel Myst’s weapon against Berserkers, Astra herself had little to no effect on Brandon in that sense, unless she shone from the inside with her pink glow. But while in her normal state, Astra was a delight for Brandon—he’d smiled when she’d touched him. I figured it felt good to see her have his back against the Valkyries for once.
“Delude yourself all you want!” the Berserker snapped, allowing Astra to lead him out of the cave. “But something broke inside Hrista that day, and now she’s the one responsible for all of this.”
I felt sorry to see Regine so broken and dismayed. It made me wonder what the Valkyries’ relationships were like, what the emotional intensity was about. Brandon had warned me once not to get soft on Myst, that her love might be too much for me or anyone else to handle, since neither the Valkyries nor the Berserkers were designed to feel such things. But I could see Regine’s affection for Hrista. Could hear the gut-wrenching sound of her heart breaking as Brandon’s words took hold.
Myst seemed more willing to accept what he’d said. Regine, on the other hand… she wasn’t ready. I stared at them for a while, wondering what had motivated Hrista to do any of this, until I began to consider the logical, magical and scientific implications. The fake Shade was a work of art, despite its fraudulent nature. The clones, too. Hats off to whoever made them, even with the fake intel and tampered DNA that Brandon had provided. We were facing a worthy opponent, that much was clear.
But was our enemy really just a scorned Valkyrie? I found it hard to believe.
Astra
He was seething. I could feel it. His anger was flowing through me somehow, and I wasn’t sure it had anything to do with my half-sentry nature. Brandon appeared to literally carry his emotions on his sleeve, and I was picking up on them.
We sat on the stony edge outside the cave’s gaping mouth, big and black behind us. Ahead, dirty green and brown canopies blanketed the mountain’s ridge, more grottos opening up below. The faint light from above poured over everything, drawing shadows and jagged silhouettes across the land—this fake world that seemed every bit as real as our home.
Neither of us said anything for a while. Brandon needed to cool down. It didn’t seem fair to ask him for complete loyalty at this point, as HQ still had Hammer, and especially since I’d seen what the shadow hounds were like. They resembled the true death of one’s soul, at least in my mind. Something I wouldn’t have wished on the worst of our enemies. So, I decided to prepare for the worst and hope for the best, going forward.
“They don’t believe me,” Brandon muttered after a long and heavy silence. “About Hrista. Their precious, immaculate Hrista.”
“Regine doesn’t. Myst seemed more inclined to accept the possibility,” I replied.
“Myst has been around here long enough to maybe start putting two and two together,” Brandon sighed. “How do you tell someone that the person they’ve looked up to for eons is, in fact, crooked and mean and petty and vengeful?”
I looked at him, temporarily mesmerized by his noble outline. “How did you learn about Hrista being behind HQ?”
“With Torrhen and Haldor out of the way, I was able to sneak into the areas that are normally off limits for me. A bit of eavesdropping here, a bit of tracking there… and the truth was quick to reveal itself. You’ve caused enough chaos to rattle HQ, that much is clear.”
“How well do you know Hrista?”
“Berserkers and Valkyries don’t really mix. We’re supposed to be distant and balanced. Whenever we get close, some kind of trouble crops up,” he said with a bitter shrug. There was history between their kinds, but he didn’t seem to have the patience to explain it all right now. I left that for later, finally relaxing as his anger began to subside. Brandon hated being called a liar. I had a feeling he valued the truth more than he’d let on, otherwise Regine’s denial wouldn’t have affected him this way. “Hrista was faultless. Pristine. White and bright and without sin. Giver of joy and love and emotions normally reserved for the living. It was literally her ability. It still is, in fact. She can soften one’s soul.”
“Ability?”
“You must’ve noticed a pattern among us and the Valkyrie,” he replied, giving me a brief glance. “In terms of individual skills, I mean.”
I nodded once. “Haldor controls the shadow hounds. Which is what you’ll become if they destroy your spirit animal, the Aesir called Hammer. Am I getting this right?”
“You are, yes,” he chuckled, though there was little humor in the pale blue fires of his eyes. “Fun fact. We Berserkers and Valkyries consider the shadow hounds to be Haldor’s Aesir. Among ourselves, anyway. They’re obviously not, but we choose to think of them as such because we don’t want to be reminded of the fate that awaits a Berserker or a Valkyrie if their Aesir is destroyed. But, anyway, back to special abilities, yes, like you said, Haldor controls the shadow hounds. And Torrhen has the third eye.”
“That he sees everything with. I got that, too. And what’s your ability, exactly?”
Brandon pressed his lips into a small and playful smile. “I never showed you my ability. It’s better if I don’t show it to you yet. I like surprising you.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of his statement. There was a playful undertone, but that didn’t lessen my curiosity. No, it only made me want to know more about
