Nótt sighs. I refused.
“I liked her immediately,” Freya says, “for doing what I hadn’t had the courage to do. You stood up to someone much larger and more powerful, knowing it would probably cost you your life.” She frowns. “And you did it because it was the right thing to do.”
Not among the vanir, it wasn’t. I felt like I didn’t fit with the vanir from the moment I hatched. None of the things I was being taught made sense, and I struggled over and over.
Freya nods. “And you were right. Bonding earth children against their will was the wrong thing. In that moment, you did the absolutely worst thing you could do among the vanir, and it felt like the most right thing I had ever seen in my life until that moment.”
That’s why you stopped your brother, distracting him, and ordered Nostramis to follow you.
“I figured you’d go ahead and bond that bright while I led them away, and so you did. When I heard a few years later that another pair of brights were resisting being bonded. . .” Freya faces me, one eyebrow quirked. “That’s why I came so fast. I wanted to find a bright to feel something with, like it seemed that Nótt had.”
“Too bad you were stuck with me.” I roll my shoulders. “I do feel much better.”
“And the fish is cooked.” Fagen passes the steaming, rough-hewn filets out on large, wide leaves.
I’m aware it hasn’t been seasoned, and I know it’s probably not very delicious, but after not eating for so long, we all fall upon it gratefully. Except for Nótt. She just watches.
At first.
As I take my last bite, she asks, Is it everything it seems? She creeps closer, her eyes on our nearly clean leaves. Fagen seems to love eating, when he’s able to make something in a certain way. Her head tilts. I’ve always wanted to experience the act as an earth child does.
She’s jealous of Freya. I should have understood that earlier. It makes me less nervous that she’ll betray us, but I have no idea how the æsir will react to a winged earth child who betrayed them, two unknown earth children from the vanir lands, and a tiny moon vanir.
I’m worried they’ll kill us on sight.
After I’ve washed in the stream as well as I’m able, my cloak still damp enough that I’m shivering in the early spring air, we take off. We may have the help of a moon vanir, but we should still get through the vanir lands as quickly as possible.
It’s a long three days, Nótt stuck flying as miserably slow as I fly, and a few times, when Nótt let her guard down, we were nearly seen. Thankfully, with the help of Fagen’s mud herbs and Nótt’s cloaking, we’re able to creep along undetected. The fish we manage to catch aren’t nearly as delicious when we aren’t as hungry, but the trip’s blessedly boring.
Until we reached Asgard.
Now we’re not hiding from vanir that clearly didn’t know that we’d found a moon vanir to help us. Or vanir who are looking for Freja, in her sky child form. No, now we’re hiding from the æsir, and they’ve been on high alert to moon-vanir-led attacks for centuries. They have protocols in place to detect us, not dissimilar to the wards set up by Fagen.
We set a few off, and each time, Freya’s able to convince them that she’s the one who did it. But it’s getting harder and harder, because the closer we get to the more densely inhabited areas, the more suspicious the sentries become.
“I still think we should veer off and head for Himinbjorg,” I say. “I know no one else agrees, but it’s the only place I have family, and?—”
“Family that might have already decided you’re an irredeemable traitor,” Fagen says. “We’ve been over this. It’s not safe to risk?—”
I grab his arm. “I don’t know what your family was like, and mine’s fiercely loyal to the æsir cause or they’d never have trained Gorm and me like they did, but they also loved me. They’ll listen to what I have to say, and that will be enough.”
Nótt and Freya exchange a look, and I wait.
“Fine,” Freya says. “You and I will approach your mother and her bonded æsir, but Nótt and Fagen will wait in the countryside. I won’t risk their lives on your faith.”
“Agreed,” I say. “We’ll come to get you once you see that my parents will listen.”
It takes a long time for us to find the right area for my childhood home. I’ve never looked for the markers while coming this direction from the Gulf of Bothnia, but then I see the inlet Mother always launched from, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “This is it. I can show you where to hide. You won’t need to cloak except right around dusk and dawn.”
Once we have Nótt and Fagen hidden away, we wait for nightfall, and then Freya and I set out toward Söderhamn. It’s so slow by foot, now that I’m used to flying, but I can’t risk drawing more attention to my wings, not if I want to survive our entrance into the populated parts of æsir holdings. If we want to help them, if we want to do as Jörð asked, it’s vital that we do manage to talk to someone who matters. Although the journey in is almost torturously slow, it pays off. Mom’s right where she always is as the sun rises.
She moves rhythmically, scaling one flounder at a time, her knife sliding evenly from tail to head, and then flipping it over. Next, she removes the head, gills, and guts, and then moves on to the next. She’s smiling just a little as she works, like she always did when we were kids. If she’s miserable with both her children gone, I’d never know it. I watch her for a moment, and then two, as I contemplate how she’ll react when she sees me. I hope she’s pleased, but I’m suddenly terribly afraid she won’t be.
Freya touches my arm, and I assume she’s rushing me forward, but when I look back, her eyes are sad. We don’t have to do this. Sometimes it’s better not to know. We can return to collect Nótt and go directly to Valhalla.
I know that’s a far more dangerous option. Even reaching there without being caught, much less finding allies, explaining our purpose, and gaining legitimate entrance to Valhalla will be nearly impossible without family to vouch for me. I’m just nervous that my mother won’t be quite the loving, supportive, and understanding parent I remember her to be, now that I’ve strayed so far from the path she set me on.
Waiting here won’t get me an answer, however. I step forward, resolved to find my answer, when Freya grabs my forearm and yanks me back abruptly. I very nearly land on my backside on the sand. I turn toward her to hiss, but she’s covering her mouth and her eyes are wide.
