‘Then send more scouts,’ Freya pressed, her voice edged with steel. She tried to still the trembling in her hands, to hide the way they curled into fists. But she knew Alma had noticed.
‘I’ll go myself,’ she added. ‘I’ll follow their trail. If theystrike, I can give the signal. We won’t be caught unawares.’
Alma’s expression darkened, contemplative. ‘The last we heard, they were approaching Floridia, in the Kingdom of Fauna.’
‘Then let me go there.’
Alma’s eyes narrowed. ‘I could just as well send another.’
Freya bit down on the urge to snap, her jaw tight with restraint. ‘I cannot remain here, useless. I need purpose. I need motion. I warned you about the witches and I was right.’
Alma cast a glance at Ylva, just a second, before turning back to Freya. Her shoulders sank with resignation.
‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘Go. Follow them. Report back with what you learn. But hear me well, if they do not strike, you do not act. Only if they attack, Freya. Only then do you send the signal for us to intervene. Is that clear?’
Freya inclined her head, suppressing the victorious smile tugging at her lips.
‘Crystal.’
Ylva stepped forward, voice steady. ‘I wish to accompany her.’
‘Out of the question,’ Alma replied at once, folding her dark hands before her as though the gesture might summon some final shred of patience she no longer possessed.
‘She must learn,’ Freya said with a careless shrug. Her tone was light, nonchalant, but beneath it swirled an undercurrent of calculation. She knew Alma didn’t trust her, not truly. But then, how could the valkyrian possibly suspect what was truly unfolding? She couldn’t know about the secret pact Freya had struck with Kage Blackburn. She couldn’t guess that Freya needed Ylva to come with her, had planned for it.
‘We do not send young valkyrians out to scout so soon,’ Alma replied. ‘Ylva must continue her training.’
‘The best way to train is by practise. She can practise with me, out there, where it really counts.’ Freya could tell that Alma was growing suspicious.
‘Please,’ Ylva intervened just in time.
Alma waved them off with a sigh, her tone clipped. ‘Very well. Ylva, return to your quarters and begin preparations.’
But before Freya could speak, Alma cut in sharply, ‘Freya, you will remain.’
Freya stood still, her posture unmoved, though a sliver of irritation coiled at her spine. Ylva gave them both a final worried look before turning and running out of the temple.
Alma stepped closer, her eyes narrowing with the weight of suspicion. ‘I warn you now, Freya, whatever scheme is turning in that divine mind of yours, it ends here.’
‘I’m not scheming,’ Freya said smoothly, her expression solemn. ‘The runes etched into my flesh forbid me from turning against the valkyrians.’
‘Perhaps not directly,’ Alma murmured, eyes gleaming like burnished gold. ‘But you are a goddess. And goddesses are well-practised in the art of slipping through the cracks. In twisting rules into threads they can weave as they please.’
Freya allowed herself a smile, slow and faintly mocking. ‘Worry not, Alma. I have no intention of bringing harm to the valkyrians. Ylva will come to no harm under my watch. I swear it.’
Alma studied her, silent and unwavering. At last, she nodded. ‘I expect a message within a fortnight. If none arrives, I shall take it as a sign. And Freya—’
‘Yes, yes,’ Freya interrupted with a theatrical roll of her ice-blue eyes. ‘I’ll be back before then.’
‘You are not to interfere. You are there to observe. Nothing more.’
Freya inclined her head in false humility. ‘As you command.’
With that, Alma swept past her, her footsteps echoing softly around the sacred space. Whatever purpose had drawn her into the temple seemed now forgotten, discarded like incense smoke on the breeze. Just before stepping out into the ever-warm sunlight, Alma turned one last time.
‘Oh, and Freya?’
Freya looked over her shoulder.
