Thori couldn’t fathom which Valkyrie had guided his hand that day. It had been an impossible throw, and yet his spear had found its aim.
“Father will not be happy when he hears of this little foray of yours.”
Frey’s voice pulled him out of his dark musings as his brother stepped up beside him and eyed the shrouded coastline with disgust. His harness gleamed as golden as his hair even in the gloom, and Thori’s chest felt tight with anger. Frey didn’t understand Father’s ambitions because he had always been protected by Mother from the Allfather’s ploys. He had no idea.
“A glorious battle, rich spoils, and the humiliation of theVanirto boot? Do you really think Father would disapprove?” Thori shot back, annoyed at his little brother’s constant questioning of his authority, and the fact that Frey had snuck aboard in the first place. He didn’t need his brother, of all people, to tell him how risky this expedition was. But as much as Frey got on his nerves, Thori didn’t like the thought of putting him in danger.Hel, he should’ve made sure that Frey remained in Asgard.
“Father wouldn’t allow the heir to the Throne of the Gods to risk his life in a foolish raid,” Frey retorted in a tone that made clear how he felt about Thori’s ability to rule. “Isn’t he the master of cunning?”
“The Allfather is also the lord of frenzy,” Rune chimed in, leaning comfortably against the railing. The warriors on board were tense, but Frey’s favoriteeinheriseemed like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“He is,” Thori agreed. “Andyoushould’ve stayed in Asgard.” He gave his brother a stern look.
It would indeed have been better if Frey had stayed in the Golden Fortress, for Thori feared their foray might not find the Norns’ favor. Dark forebodings had accompanied their journey from the very beginning; Thori’s sleep disturbed by dreams ofdeath and defeat. He had often woken up in the depths of the night to the song of wolves, only to realize that they were already on the high seas and the howling was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. But still Thori was determined to travel to Vanaheim and finally find out what happened to his parents. Odin’s palace and the halls of Asgard had been lying abandoned for too long.
“We all should’ve stayed in Asgard.” Frey’s eyes were fixed on the coast, an angry frown on his face. “Haven’t you learned? TheVaniraren’t to be trifled with. And do you really think they abducted Mother and Father into their realm? Do you think they’re capable of such a deed?”
“I can’t think ofanyonepowerful enough to overcome one of them, let alone both, but still, they’re gone,” Thori said.
Only a treacherous part of him insisted that this wasn’t true. He’d seen Njord fight, and ever since that day, he couldn’t help but wonder—
“My spies whisper about the absence of the queens,” Rune said. “They say the young prince sits on the throne.”
Rune’s namesake—the Prince of Vanaheim. Rune hadVanrblood himself, and he thought it funny to share their enemy’s name. Not for the first time, Thori wondered if it was wise to trust him. And what exactly theVanrwas to his brother was anyone’s guess. Norns, he hoped they weren’t shagging.
“You think whatever has befallen our parents has happened to the queens, too?” Frey asked.
The notion was ridiculous.
“We’ve been over this,” Thori said dismissively. They’d discussed the rumors several times already, and they didn’t get any more believable. “Nobody in the Nine Worlds possesses this kind of power, and if they did, why not use it to conquer?”
“Yeah, if someone can defeat MotherandFather, they can certainly take Thori,” Frey said, smirking at Rune.
“Thanks for your faith in me,” Thori grumbled.
Frey was right, of course, but it still annoyed Thori that his brother had so little confidence in his ability to protect Asgard.
Tilting his head, Rune’s gaze fell on the mist-shrouded shore. They had already reached the fjord, and the longship glided silently through the narrow waterway between the mountains. They weren’t flying the raven banner of Asgard; the ship was supposed to look like a merchant’s vessel guarded by a few warriors. Yet, Thori felt it only a fraction of a second after Rune: the heady premonition of danger and impending battle.
The fjord was too quiet. Not a seagull, raven, or seal in sight.
Raising a hand, Thori signaled the oarsmen to pause. A baleful silence stretched over them. Not even the whispering of waves could be heard.
“What is it?”
Frey grinned mockingly at him. Despite his warning words earlier, he didn’t take this whole endeavor seriously, and Thori would’ve liked nothing more than to shake some sense into his silly brother. But he couldn’t blame Frey for his youthful cockiness. Thori had been the same. Before their parents’ disappearance. Before he’d seen one man lay waste to a whole army at Nóatún.
“The air reeks ofseiðr,” Rune muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Sorcery. Yes. Thori could feel it too. The mist in front of them coiled and shifted in unnatural patterns.
Thori raised his ax, and hiseinherjarbraced themselves without the need for a spoken command.
“What—”
Frey’s eyes widened.
The attack came before Thori could answer.
