Read Online Valkyrie Slumbering by L. VanHorn - Free Book Online Page B

fire. Their bodies are hidden beneath fur blankets but I can see two of their faces. Though both are covered in bristling blond beards, I can tell neither of them are Steinn. The third man lays facing away from me.
    Carefully placing my steps around the loose rock, I move to the north of the structure. Scrubby green bushes offer a slight cover. Peering through them, I get a good look at the third man’s face. It isn’t Steinn.
    A sigh slips from me; part relief, part disappointment. Hyper aware of the sun that is beginning to warm my back, I make my way back to Grím’s side. Silently, we move on to where the next curls of smoke climb from the ruins. Two sleeping men this time, and again, neither of them is Steinn. Without a word, we move on.
    At the final location all we find is an abandoned, smoldering fire. The impressions in the grass and moss reveal that at least five bodies slept here recently. The muscles lining my spine tighten as if a fat spider has just crept up it. My stomach clenches at the sensation. Hand tightening on my sword hilt, I start to make my way back to Grím. We only separated a few dozen feet to flank the camp but right now it feels like a few hundred. Our eyes lock and his furrowed brow tells me he feels the same thing I do. Something isn’t right here.
    My gaze flicks across the hillside. Every half crumbled wall and partial structure seems to harbor menacing shadows.
    “Well, well, well. It’s about damn time I was able to get you two together in one place,” says a voice that rakes across my skin like sharp steel.
    Blood pumps through my body at a furious rate that brings everything into sharp focus. I turn toward the sound of that voice, teeth bared and grinding.
    A broad Viking frame stands just up the hill. Yellow sunlight frames his armor and fur-clad silhouette.
    “Steinn,” I hiss, hardly registering what he said.
    But Grím has a better grip on his wits than I do. “What do ye mean, ye got us together in one place?” he demands.
    Drawing a sword as tall as he is, Steinn takes a few steps closer, moving between Grím and me. The position couldn’t be better, which is why it doesn’t make sense. That feeling of wrongness vibrates through me again, stronger this time. Steel scrapes against leather as I draw my sword.
    Small rocks tumble not far behind me. A glance reveals two men at my back, maybe ten feet away. Sunlight glints off the blades of their swords. Turning sideways, I split my focus between them and Steinn. In the time that I glanced back, two men had come up to flank Grím. Good as we both are, I don’t like the odds.
    Grating laughter erupts from Steinn. “You two haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” he asks.
    I try to take a step closer to Grím but one of Steinn’s men blocks my way, giving me a toothy grin. Anger boils inside me, heating my face. I really don’t like anyone standing between Grím and me. On some level I figure that should bother me, but it doesn’t.
    “Figured what out?” I ask. If he wants to make a game of this, I’m fine with that. It may give me a chance to work my way around him or his men. Grím and I stand a better chance if we can fight back to back.
    “That when you’re together you open a door between the worlds,” Steinn said, voice thick with derision as if speaking to a daft child.
    I glance at Grím. He shrugs and nods. It does explain the landvættr, fenrir, and níðhöggr. Still, I’m hesitant to believe anything out of Steinn’s mouth.
    “How? Why?” I demand.
    A deep, cackling laugh erupts from Steinn, the sound filled more with disgust than mirth. “Because you’re half-elves. Those from the upper worlds have the ability to open doors when two of them are together,” he says with a roll of his murky brown eyes.
    The hair on the back of my neck tries to stand as I realize I can see his eyes because he has moved closer. So much for me being the one to distract him.
    From too far away comes Grím’s voice.