Valkyrie's Harem (Academy of Immortals 1)

Christensen continues, “I read the text, and it’s a decree about the Talisman of Knowledge.”

Miya shifts with interest, his chin lifting. “The Talisman?”

“Yes,” Christensen says. He holds up a page of the book, and there’s a symbol in faded ink. It looks sort of like a yin-yang. A circle with two balanced sides. “Once a millennia there is a challenge, called the Crusade, where the Talisman must be recovered and taken to a specific location to secure the knowledge for another millennia. Two sides fight for the stone. One chosen by the gods of the Upperworld, and one by the gods of the Lowerworld. The winner rules the realms.”

“Who rules it now?”

Roland frowns. “The Upperworld, Hildi. Imagine this world run by your Hella? Or the Morrigan? We’ve seen the face of the devil but there was always hope, there was morality and love. If the Lowerworld ruled the Stone of Knowledge, there would be none of that.”

Christensen nods in agreement. “We have to send a team to secure the stone—the gods have requested the Raven Guard specifically.” Clinton’s face is stony. Damien pales. Christensen speaks to them directly, “You’ve done it before and you won. You can do it again.”

“We will,” Dylan declares. “This time there’s more at stake, and it will be difficult to leave, but we have to do it for our family.” He stares at Morgan, his love for her strong and true.

Bunny says, “Remember how long it took before? Months, maybe a year. We’d miss the birth.”

Clinton’s jaw clenches so tight I think it may snap. “The gods speak, and when they do, we’re obliged to obey.”

Morgan clutches her belly even more protectively. “Why now? Why is this happening?”

Christensen says, “These things are predetermined and orchestrated on a plane higher than we can comprehend. According to the text they sent me, the next Crusades will begin on the fall equinox of the current year.”

I do the math and sit up. “Thursday? You mean in three days?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“We’ll be ready,” Sam declares. Clinton nods.

Morgan looks like she may shatter.

“Wait. Stop. This is crazy! An alternate realm and a challenge with the Lowerworld? Be honest, you may never come back,” I say, finally jumping in. All eyes shift to me. The thought of losing my friends—the family I’ve grown to depe

nd on--brings panic into my chest. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just…you guys have been through so much. It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Hil.” Morgan stretches her hand toward me. I take it. “You know that more than anyone.”

The pain I feel over losing Andi flares in my belly. There’s no doubt about the conflict the Ravens are feeling. Each man carries their own opinion, but all are focused on Morgan and the baby. They’re loyal and true. They uphold their bargains. It’s why they could negotiate with the Shaman. It’s how they’ve created such a respect for and with the Legion.

There’s no way they leave this Crusade unattended.

It’s a sucky, inevitable situation and as the room grows quiet, I search the Legion’s face to see what they are thinking but, typically, they give nothing away. Warriors don’t show their emotions, but I do sense strategic thought behind Agis and Rupert’s eyes in particular.

“Thank you for listening,” Morgan says, easing off the couch. It’s almost like the baby has grown in the last day. “We appreciate your support and your wisdom, which is why we wanted you to be involved.” She grimaces. “It’s also likely that we’ll need that friendship to take a new form if I’m here alone.”

I stand next to her and give her a quick hug. “Never worry about that, Morgan. I’ve got your back.” My eyes flit over the Legion, and I nod at Agis, deciding to speak for them, too. “We all do.”

6

Hildi

My room is in the basement along with the Legion. I’d lived upstairs in a plush guest room, but after Morgan married the Guardians and things got…loud…I found a bunk in the training dormitories and moved in. It may smell exactly what one would assume six men living together would be (a distinct mixture of musk, sweat, and soap) but at least I’m not listening to the happy, gleeful sounds of lovemaking all night long.

Down here the men give me some space, and I mostly only run into them while they’re working out. They’ve let me join in their sparring, even introducing me to a few styles of fighting I’m inexperienced with. Miya’s tutelage with the sword has been well worth the funky smell.

As dawn breaks, they’re quiet, but none have gone to bed. Instead they’re sitting in the dim light of the lounge. Agis and Rupert sit near one another, whispering intently, no doubt the idea of the Crusade piquing their interest. Armin sprawls on the couch, his long legs and massive frame taking up most of the space. Miya sits at the game table cleaning his sword, something I notice he does with almost a meditative peace. Across from him, Roland sits with his chin in his hands, staring into space.

I walk by the lounge on the way to my room and make eye contact with Armin. I’ve just kicked off my shoes when he knocks lightly on the door.

“Are you okay?” he asks.