She was still in the Grimwood, and her wager with the Faery Queen wasn’t just a threat. It was an opportunity. If she succeeded, she would be on the track of the Soul Jar in no time. She would rescue her parents.
She could do this. She’d been preparing all of her life. She dropped her backpack to the ground and pulled out her notebook, scanning all the notes she’d made from her parents’ journals—looking for any mention of the bluff meadow or of Valkyrie.
Behind her, Mack and Nula had finished bickering, and like her had paused to take in the meadow. Dog was barking, so Mack threw a stick for them. A smile played over his face as he looked out across toward the bluff.
Poppy closed her eyes and took another deep breath. When she opened them, she made out water sparkling in the distance, far below the cliffs. She wondered if it was the Alcyon. Farther still she could see more bluffs, and flashed to the vision she had seen while she was standing on the stairs of the Holly Oak, looking out. It had to be the Alcyon! She was on those bluffs—the ones she had seen—high above the fathomless salt sea, surrounded by forest. Her heart skipped a beat.
Battle maidens, Mack had called the Valkyrie. The phrase rang a bell in her mind … reminded her of something she had heard. Across the distance a bird let out a piercing cry, jogging her memory. Her parents had talked about a bird they wanted to see one day … a bird that was beloved by battle maidens. She flipped to her glossary.
There it was, in the B section! Battle maidens, also called Valkyrie, are warrior women (immortal) who get to choose who lives or dies at any battle they attend. In the northern homeland of the Valkyrie, warriors consider it an honor to be chosen to go with them to the afterlife. Their battle cry is a fierce weapon, honed from the souls of the fallen. They are said to ride a bird called a Kohko. It is made of iron and fire and will answer only to the same.
A shriek echoed across the meadow, and a shadow darkened the sky above them, rippling out across the grasses like a wave. She looked up and knew what she had to do.
“Dog!” she called, rooting through her pack. “Dog! Come!”
They appeared at her side, covered in grass seed, all three of them sparkly-eyed and panting. She smirked. “Good Dog! Now, stay close to me.”
She yanked out her little iron bell and set it on the ground, fishing down into her pack. Across the meadow, Mack and Nula had seen the shadow too. They ran toward her, their eyes wide. Mack was shouting.
They were in for a surprise. She just hoped it was a good one.
She exhaled with relief as she found what she was looking for and hurried to pull the last of Dog’s bone from her pack, waving it back and forth over her head, so the bird would be sure to see. Brutus gave an offended woof, but Poppy kept a firm grip on their collar.
Mack and Nula arrived, short of breath, at her side.
“What are you doing?” Mack asked.
On her other side, Nula watched her with stark amazement, as if she might spring another head.
“I’m calling us a ride.” Poppy tipped her chin at the silhouette of the enormous bird, growing larger against the sun. It had veered toward them.
Mack’s mouth opened and shut, and opened again. “Not on that?”
Poppy grinned.
Mack grabbed her arm with one hand, and Dog’s collar with the other, yanking them both back, as if he would spin them back into the forest to hide.
“Mack! This is right. I’m sure of it.”
His face didn’t change expression, but he let go, and stood beside her, his body still and tense.
Poppy had told him she was certain … but as the bird grew closer, Poppy’s doubt grew. Its wings spanned almost the whole meadow. The sun shone against it as it got closer, disappearing into thick silver-black feathers the color of iron. It opened its hooked beak to scream, red eyes glittering like fire.
“Ummmmmm,” said Nula, grabbing hold of Poppy’s pocket and disappearing inside. Poppy patted the mouse idly, her heart in her throat.
Mack pulled the net gun from Poppy’s pack. “If you get us killed, my mother’s going to kill us both. You haven’t met her yet, Poppy, but believe me, if I’m dead, you won’t want to.”
The bird’s shadow fell over them and Poppy gave him a small smirk. They both knew the bird wouldn’t even notice the net. Poppy left her knife in her boot.
Tensed to run, Poppy stepped forward, waving the bone in the air. The bird answered, letting out a shriek that split the air. It pulled up, lowering its black-taloned feet to the ground. Its muscled legs, each as big as Poppy, were covered in thick feathers.
She tossed the bone upward, and let out her breath as the bird snapped it out of the air and dropped the bone down its gullet. Eta whined. Poppy caught a glimpse of a long black harness, covered in bells. A huge black saddle, with a rectangular basket at the back boosted her confidence.
She took a step forward.
The bird spun, beak wide—and stabbed forward.
Poppy let out a yelp and jumped back, knocking Mack to the ground. Dog began to bark.
The bird turned toward them.
“No!” Poppy screamed.
Dog stood their ground, legs wide, all three heads snarling.
The bird let out another cry and stabbed again.
Dog shot to the left of it, finding their stance again and moving forward, their snarls intensifying.
“We have to help them,” Mack cried, running to Dog’s side. In her pocket, Nula was spinning in circles. The pooka appeared at her side again, tearing Poppy’s pocket. “It’s magic!” she hissed, diving into Poppy’s other pocket.
Poppy
