“You’re not even armed.”
“Don’t be deceived.This entire place, the whole construct, is what I want it to be.Why do you think I’ve been so polite?”
“You think I can’t do it,” I say.
“No, Iknow you can’t, because thousands of years ago, the first time you tried, I killed you.”Freya’s eyes are sad.“If I hadn’t, you’d be the one stuck here, not me.Not my finest call, was it?”
“Then why don’t you let me kill you?”
“More ignorant, thoughtless questions,” Freya says.“Those make me maddest of all.”In the blink of an eye, I’m not looking at Freya.I’m staring at the ice dragon from my nightmare, and when she roars, the floor that isn’t a floor shakes.
I really, really wish I had both my swords, and not just so that the second one wouldn’t be stuck inside Hyperion.
A snippet of a dream.That’s how much time I spent ‘training’ with Freja before.That’s what I remember.But Gullveig, the Gullveig who needed that training, wasn’t a warrior.
And I’m not Gullveig.
I’m Elizabeth Chadwick, and the one thing in my life I’ve been prepared for is this.My whole life has been a sequence of attacks.
What’s one more, even if I’m outmatched.
I’malwaysoutmatched.
It’s never stopped me before.
Freya opens her mouth and blasts me with shimmering ice, and I raise my hand without much idea what to do...and the red magic from Azar simply flows through.Even without being entwined, I’m able to pull from him, and it’s enough.
Freya blasts me for what feels like an hour, but finally, she gives up.
“Are you just trying to kill time until he dies?”I shout and lunge at her.“You can’t win.Not this time.”
My sword hits nothing but air.
She’s already disappeared.
Vapor—that’s what she is every single time I strike, over and over.
But I’m learning the rules of engagement.When she materializes a few swings later, I’m ready.Ialmosthit her before she disappears.I’m not sure how long we go round and round.She blasts me, and I block.I strike, and she disappears.She almost catches my leg with her snapping teeth once, and I slice her hindquarter another time, but neither wound is significant.
I can’t help trying to track time—is Coral already dead?It makes me desperate, but then I start to think.
What does Freya want?
Why hasn’t she simply killed me?
She could burn me into ash by releasing me back into the lava.She could call her fearsome beasts over to eat me.She could materialize with her jaws already around my torso and snap me in two.
Why, then, are we fighting?
She doesn’t want me dead, but she can’t let me win.
Why not?What other option is there?What am I missing?
The next time she appears, I drop my sword.It clatters on the nonexistent ground, and her eyes widen.She shifts back to her human form with the same ice-shattering noise I heard that first time.“What are you doing?”
“You don’t want me dead.”
“No.”Her nostrils flare.“I don’t.”
