Destined (Desolation #3) Page 13

  “Like you. How can you love me after spending an eternity in Hell? You won’t tell me what Father made you do—and I think it’s because it’s so awful you’re afraid to add to my burden. But I know what Hell is like. I know what Father is like. Whether you tell me or not, it is my burden. Everything Father has done is because of me.” I sat up, scooting away from Michael, and wishing for a longer skirt or jeans so I could wrap my arms around my knees.

  “If it hadn’t been for me you would never have done what you did to Heimdall. James and Lucy wouldn’t be missing, Knowles wouldn’t be dead—Aaron wouldn’t be dead.” My voice broke and I buried my face in my hands, but managed to force the tears back down, my chest like a forest fire. I thrust my thoughts out through my burning throat, each word scarring me with its truth. “If only I’d done what Mahria and Odin wanted me to—if only I’d Remembered and finished Loki off right away—none of this would have happened. Midgard would be free. The people I love wouldn’t be gone.”

  Michael put his hands on my cheeks and drew my face upward. He knelt on the grass in front of me and speared me with his gaze. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again.

  I knew I shouldn’t dwell on all the bad that happened. Knew I should be glad to be here now—in Asgard, with Michael—but I also couldn’t pretend to be this awesome warrior hero that the others seemed to think I was—that even Michael seemed to expect me to be.

  He pulled me to my knees and brought my face to his. He pressed his forehead against mine. Breathed my breath.

  “Love. We have both suffered at Loki’s hand. I know something of the burden you bear. But I promise you, I will gladly live the rest of my eternal life dedicated to the task of proving to you that you are, ever have been, and always will be, worth any sacrifice I could make. And I know—” I tried to drop my eyes, but he held my face firm between his hands and pulled back so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. “I know, that everyone who has ever loved you feels the same.”

  “But—”

  He swallowed any argument I might have given with his kiss. His hands slipped into my hair, pulled out the elastic that held it back and deepened his embrace.

  I tasted honey on his lips. I tasted hope.

  I tasted love.

  Do you forgive me? Can you?

  I leaned back from him, searched his eyes, but he pulled me close again.

  Can you? he pressed.

  There is nothing to forgive.

  For a moment an image filled his mind before he pushed it aside, forced it away. But I’d seen it, I knew the fear he still harbored. He remembered lying in Cornelius’ bed, recovering from his time in Hell. He felt the warmth of the whale-tail charm I’d given him, the one that protected him, and left me vulnerable in its absence. He remembered watching the darkness infiltrate my body, understood it was in me because of him. Because of what he’d done while under Father’s influence.

  You need to forgive yourself too, because I already have.

  Michael groaned, a sound of infinite need and hope. He wrapped his arms more tightly around me.

  And will you? Forgive yourself?

  I will if you will. I said the words that sounded so much more confident than I felt. But I remembered Aaron’s last words to me—that I should take what he had given me, his very essence, all his light, and use it to shine. For him. For love.

  And in that moment, with Michael’s hands in my hair and his kiss on my lips, I thought, Maybe I can let go of all the guilt I’ve clung to.

  Let go of Father, and his claim on me.

  Let go of Aaron, with thanks for his gift—for the chance he gave me at a life far brighter than the one I’d created for myself.

  Let go of Knowles and acknowledge the sacrifice he made—a grand and righteous act befitting any Gardian.

  In Michael’s arms I let myself reclaim who I had been and remake her into who I should be. Who I will be. Who I want to be.

  I would find out what happened to Lucy.

  And I would find James and free him from Helena’s grasp. I would return him to Miri, make sure they had the happy ending they deserved.

  In Michael’s arms, I embraced the Desi he believed me to be. I allowed myself to be the girl he loved—part demon, part Valkyrie, all Desolation. All his.

  In the early afternoon we left our garden and I knew I wouldn’t be coming back. I didn’t belong in Asgard and Valhalla anymore. And maybe Michael didn’t anymore either. He plucked a tiny stem of Lily of the Valley and held it between us. I drank in the fragrance and closed my eyes. I would always remember this smell, and remember this moment, this day. The day I chose who I would be. And who I wouldn’t.

  Michael tucked the flower behind my ear, pressing it there with a kiss.

  I bent down and plucked up a handful of the little blossoms and tucked them into the baldric that crossed his chest.

  “Really?” He looked down and shook his head.

  “It’ll help you remember me.”

  He picked me up and swung me around, kissing my cheek when he set me back on my feet. “My love, I have never, ever forgotten.” That shadow crossed his eyes again, just before he bent down, kissed my lips, his hands on my face, his lashes brushing against my cheek.

  I pushed gently on his chest. “Michael.”

  He kept his eyes closed a moment but when he looked at me, he let me see all that troubled him. “I know you think you forgot. I know, even when Father poisoned you against me, against . . . everything . . . a part of you—the real part of you—never forgot.”

  I placed my hands on his cheeks, let my heart fill with all the love I had for him, my love, my forever love. “Just like the real part of me never forgot you.”

  With a whoosh of air Michael grabbed me to him, pressed his lips against mine. I lost myself in his touch, in his kiss. Gave everything I was—the good and the bad—in exchange for all that he was.

  When we finally pulled apart, we took one last look at our garden, then walked through the shimmering trees to the city and wherever our path would take us.

  Odin, Horonius and Fahria stood outside Odin’s palace. When we came near them, their conversation seemed to stop as they turned to watch us. Fahria smiled and I had a flash of Memory. I Remembered her and Mahria laughing, teasing me about Michael. Laughing that I was the only maiden he had ever laid eyes on—that after seeing me he’d been ruined for any of them.

  She was my mother’s near-sister, the Valkyrie version of family. When our eyes met, I could tell she knew I Remembered. She bowed her head in an act of recognition. Of acceptance.

  “Your sisters?” Michael asked Fahria without any preamble.

  Fahria nodded. “Ready.”

  “Good. Then let us go.”

  “Hold,” Odin said. “I thought perhaps you would like to say goodbye to your friend. He has served well, I believe.”

  I tried to reason out Odin’s words, when it finally dawned on me. Horonius, the Hound. “You won’t be coming with us?” I asked. “What of your companion? Surely you want to find him.” I hadn’t asked, I’d only assumed. I saw my mistake the moment a shadow darkened the boy’s eyes.

  “My brother is no more. And I have been so long removed from Midgard that I feel I would be of little use.”

  “Midgard?” I asked, confused. I thought the Hounds were Helena’s creation. That’s what she had told me, what she had shown me.

  Odin placed a hand on Horonius’ shoulder. “Horonius and his twin brother were children in Pharaoh’s court when Helena discovered them. They were boys of great beauty, and so innocent, sharing such love between them, that Helena became jealous. She took them into her own court and tried to make them hers, but their love for one another kept them pure. When she could not change their hearts, she changed their bodies and forever changed their future.”

  He smiled at Horonius, but I wondered if it wasn’t cruel of Odin to remind the boy of all he had lost. Horonius examined the ground at his feet.

&
nbsp; “Or so she believed. What the goddess forgot, was that as children of Midgard, Helonius and Horonius are mine.”

  My chin snapped upward, my eyes searching Odin’s. Horonius did not understand, but I did—and so did the others. Smiles passed between us like a warm cup on a cold night.

  “Horonius, my son, I believe someone has come to see you.”

  Horonius searched Odin’s face, at first unbelieving, hope being such a rare and unlikely commodity in his life. Oh, I knew that truth. I knew what it felt like to hope even when you knew you had no right to it.

  “Brother?” a boy’s soft voice asked from behind us. We all turned, stepping back, clearing the path, so none of us stood in the way of their reunion.

  While I watched, brother fell upon brother. Their arms reached, hugged, pushed back the pain and sorrow they’d lived with for so very long. My heart broke for them, then sang with joy.

  They thought they’d fallen so far. Thought there was no place of rest for them. No place of peace and happiness. And now here they were. Smiling into each other’s eyes, discovering a life after the hell Helena had subjected them to. Here, there was redemption, and hope.

  The boys smiled unabashedly, each with a hand on the other’s shoulder. Horonius bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord.”

  Odin stepped forward and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, so they made a circle between them and I thought it fitting. Perfect. They had been renewed, remade. And it was Odin who joined them together again.

  “I am saddened by all you were made to endure, my sons. But I am so glad you are home.” He kissed each of them on the cheek, which they accepted gladly. He stepped back and gestured behind us. When we turned we saw two Valkyrie striding down the street, the golden-winged glory of their Halos spread wide behind them. “You have earned Ascension, if you wish it. Or,” he nodded at the Valkyrie, “You can join the brave and victorious in Valhalla, as you have been ever faithful warriors.”

  The boys looked at each other for just a moment before breaking into wide grins. “We are grateful for the invitation to retire to Valhalla,” Horonius said. We will ever—”

  “serve the young mistress,” he finished, with his brother joining him.

  “May I?” Horonius asked Odin, gesturing toward me.

  “Certainly.”

  “My lady.” Horonius and Helonius both stood before me, their fists over their hearts. “If you ever have need of us, only call for us and we will obey.”

  “I don’t ever wish to command you,” I said.

  “Lady,” Helonius said in a quiet, shy voice. “It would be our honor.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled. They bounced their heads in unison, then Helonius stepped toward one of the Valkyrie and took her hand, Horonius following.

  With peace in my heart, I watched them walk through the gates of Valhalla and disappear behind the golden aura of the Valkyries’ halos.

  Between the gates of Valhalla and the Bridge to Heimdall’s wheelhouse, the street was crowded with the most magnificent creatures I’d ever seen. Valkyries, dressed in their golden armor and crisp white tunics and kilts, sat atop pristine white-winged horses with silver manes.

  “Beautiful,” I breathed as we walked past one of the magnificent creatures.

  “They are shi’lil, a gift from the Alfahr. They are glorious, fierce warriors.”

  As we passed, the shi’lils bent one knee and leaned down low, their noses nearly touching the golden stones of the street, their riders holding a fist over their hearts. I kept moving forward, focused on the street ahead of me. It felt wrong to be walking beside Fahria and Michael—their people loved them so much. I wished I could take to the sky, skip on ahead to the wheelhouse, and not detract from the respect and adoration poured out upon them.

  Michael’s fingers brushed against my elbow and he gently pulled me to a stop. “Desi.” His eyes burned when I faced him. “They are showing reverence to you.”

  When I looked at Fahria, she smiled briefly before lowering herself to one knee. In slow motion I turned all around, and found each and every person, including Michael, bowing low.

  At first I felt . . . nothing.

  And then, little by little, I became aware of the emotions that swept through me. Confusion. Fear. Doubt. They don’t know me, I thought. If they did, they’d know I’m not worthy of their respect. Before I’d completed the thought, new feelings shouldered their way through the usual nay-sayers that took up residence in my mind.

  Hope and love filled my heart.

  I realized: They know exactly who I am. And it’s because of that—because of what I’ve overcome, that they are here, giving me this honor.

  I remembered what Michael had told me. I owed it to Aaron and Lucy to shine with all the light and love they had given me.

  Michael was the only one who met my gaze from his spot on the ground, his eyes watching my face, waiting for the moment I’d finally accept my place at the head of this army. I searched his smiling, love-filled face, and while he watched, I let myself Become.

  Not the dark demon Father and Akaros had fashioned me to be.

  But my own creation of darkness and light.

  My father was the son of a god. My mother a Valkyrie queen. I had been served and loved by Ascended Ones, eternal friends, and humans as generous as any Vanir god. I was what they had made me, and more.

  I radiated with the light of a sun, my body a pearlescent glow that was all my own. My wings stretched to twice my height, golden feathers reflecting the faces around me, but for once I didn’t begrudge the black ones that covered my left wing. The darkness was a part of me, but it would never again own me.

  I held my hands out in front of me and watched as ribbons of black swirled up my left arm and on my right, golden threads wound their way upward. I was black and gold, dark and light. Desolation.

  Beyond the mounted warriors stood thousands more Gardians and Valkyries. They made room for us to pass so we strode straight to the wheelhouse and joined Odin and Heimdall there. The god of the Bifrost held out his hand, a swirling mass of energy and light suspended above it.

  Odin greeted us with a nod.

  “Helena is not taking her forces to Helheimer—she is rallying them to Midgard, as suspected. I have diverted their paths to a vast expanse of barren land in Earth’s northern continent. I believe this to be in the interest of all the worlds, and not a breach of my powers.” Heimdall glared at us, daring any to deny him. “They have already begun arriving.”

  “What about The Hallowed?” Michael asked.

  “They have received their instructions,” Odin replied. “And they are already on their way.” His focus shifted to me. “Cornelius and his branch have arrived—they will tend to the injured and keep me informed of the state of battle.”

  The Hallowed. That would mean Cornelius, Longinus and maybe even Miri. But not James. My stomach clenched as I tried to think of how I could break the news to Miri.

  Odin reached for my hand. “She expects to find him there—with the two of you.” And before I formed the question in my mind, he said, “There has been no word of him.”

  No word of James.

  The darkness no longer owned me, but all the light in Asgard couldn’t stop the stab of remorse and guilt I felt that James suffered because of me. But I’d spent my life running from my destiny, trying to avoid taking responsibility for my actions. I took Michael’s hand, taking strength from his firm grasp. I owed Miri the truth.

  We shot to Earth like comets falling from the sky. I landed beside Michael, throwing a hand out to the dry, packed ground to stop myself from landing on my face. I watched as a thousand gold and silver comets plunged to Earth or circled the sky above us. I saw more lights falling all around—and not all of them the Gardians and Valkyries we had brought with us.

  Fireballs of red and orange plummeted earthward, materializing into men the size of Heimdall with skin that glowed like red hot embers. Fire burned in their hair
and beards. They marched toward us, swinging flaming hammers in each of their fists as they approached.

  I took a step backward, suddenly unsure if I could survive this fight, if I could do enough to save the Gardians and Valkyries I stood with. On my left, a flash of white-blue caught my eye as flashes of blue and black fell to the earth, materializing into elves that shifted and moved like living ice.

  We’re all going to die, I thought.

  Michael slipped behind me, his shoulders a reassuring strength while we stood back-to-back. Don’t be so quick to underestimate our power, my love, Michael said. I am here. You are here. And together, we are fearsome.

  He sent me an image, a Memory. My subconscious dusted off my own long-hidden memories of the day we’d fought Father—Loki, as I knew him then—and all his many millions of followers. We’d stood like this—faced an innumerable host, impossible odds.

  And we had won.

  Michael and I spun around so he was facing the Giants and I faced the dark elves—the creatures of Svartalheim. I hefted the staff in my hand— it wasn’t the treasured one from the Tree of Life Odin gave me so long ago, but I was glad for that. This weapon would never reek of the darkness and temptation the Spear of Destiny had. At my hip rested a Valkyrie’s blade, with daggers tucked into each of my boots. I curled my fingers around the smooth wood of my staff and felt Michael tense behind me.

  There was no more time to fear what approached, because in front of me a host of dark elves drew their bows and raised gleaming kukris that flashed with cold light.

  Fahria fell into place beside me. She had a wild glint in her eye and a broad smile on her face.

  “Welcome to your proper place, Niece,” she said. “Join your sisters and we shall make quick work of this fight.” And without looking away, she Became . . . a creature too glorious to name.

  Become, she said in my mind.