CHAPTERTWO
The streets of Norway were far different from the last time Muni had set foot on the cobblestones. The old country had been brought into the future, the buildings a mix between modern glass and old concrete. Cars Muni was used to seeing were everywhere, clogging the streets that were once only travelled by horse and carriage. Though Muni would never feel disdain for the technological advances humanity had made, she missed the beauty of the old country. Once upon a time, the land was green and pure, the sky wasn’t clogged with pollution, and animals roamed freely. They were simpler times but all the more beautiful for it.
Her search had brought her to her homeland, not because she suspected she would find answers here, but because she’d come up with a plan. Supernatural creatures lived long lives. Whoever was responsible for her brother’s death was likely still alive, walking the earth. Vengeance wasn’t always a moral path to follow, but Muni didn’t much care. She’d already been to Hel once. Going again did not scare her.
She wasn’t looking for the culprit, however. She was going to lure them out and destroy them in front of the entire supernatural world. How fitting that she would do so in the Race Games.
But in order to race in the Games, she needed at least one teammate, and most known creatures wouldn’t dare work with Odin’s Spy. Humans were out of the question. Though there were some talented ones, including Danica Dyers who had won the Games over a year ago for the Vamps, humans were fragile creatures for the most part. She wouldn’t ask that of any living human.
But those who were already gone. . .
Muni’s hair billowed around her in the wind as she walked alone down the cobblestone street. This road, rather than repave it with concrete, had been repaired so that the stone remained intact. A few stones were obviously newer, but the city had done an excellent job at blending them as best as possible, giving the street itself a historical feel that likely drew in tourists by the thousands. Likewise, the buildings on this part of the street were old, not as old as Muni had once been, but old enough to make her bones ache with their history. Her wings were hidden, as they often were, but still, a few elders sitting on a bench on the street, bowed their heads in respect. Sometimes, the older ones recognized celestial auras. Though Muni wasn’t a goddess, she’d been blessed by a god. The younger ones had forgotten what it was like to stand in the presence of such power, and so, they travelled by blissfully unaware. But the elders, they knew.
Muni stroked her fingers along the hands they offered as she passed, giving them a blessing that would likely give them a few more years of healthy life, not because she held the power to heal, but because they were touched by Odin. It was an indirect blessing, muted, but it still worked just the same. If any of the actual deities gifted a blessing, it would be far more powerful.
“Takk skal du ha, ravn,” the elder woman murmured so softly, no one else on the street would have been able to hear it.
Muni inclined her head just barely in respect and continued passed. Any other time, she might have sat with the elders and encouraged them to speak their stories. History was often forgotten for the individuals but that didn’t make their stories any less important. She would long tell the stories of those brave men and women she’d once soared alongside. Muni dealt in stories and secrets, accepted shiny items upon offering, but one day, she hoped to write down all the stories in her mind. They all deserved to be recorded in history.
Turning down an alley in a quieter section of the street, Muni stood staring at the brick wall in front of her. It looked normal other than a few bits of faded graffiti left by kids. The graffiti was sparce, as if it had been rushed so badly, the artist had barely had time to finish spraying before he ran, and it wasn’t hard to know why. This alley oozed power, as if the very bricks were full of stories better left untold, and yet there were great songs and odes written to them.
Muni brushed her hands along the brick, letting her powers touch them and absorb through the porous material. It pulled against her harder than she remembered, but she knew it was necessary. As long as she still held some of her power inside, she’d be able to achieve precisely what she intended. No living creature would suit her needs, but she didn’t need the living.
Before her, right over the brick wall, a large ornate door appeared. Sculpted from iron and wood, the door was beautiful, down to the golden inlays that depicted the scene of a Valkyrie in flight. Long ago, Valkyries would lead fallen warriors to Valhalla. Now, the once mighty winged women stayed hidden in cult-like bars that only allowed in those they trusted. Once, Muni had been one of those trusted people as Odin’s spy. Now, she hadn’t been able to gain an audience with them, likely out of fear of what trouble helping her would cause. She didn’t need a Valkyrie’s help to enter Valhalla anyways, not with Odin’s blessing still in her blood.
Runes danced across the wood, moving in ways carvings shouldn’t, but they told Muni exactly what she needed to know. Her powers would allow her to cross, and for a price, she could bring souls back with her. The price could be heavy, or it could be simple. There was no way to know until she began the process.
Memories still plagued Muni’s dreams, and now that they had all been unlocked, she’d begun to witness Hug’s death every night. She had to find closure, had to find the person responsible for their death before. She didn’t care for her own. She’d been a byproduct, but someone had wanted to silence Hug so badly, had been desperate to keep him from the council, that they’d killed him. There was a reason for that, and she was going to find it.
Something on the other side of the door called to Muni and she pressed her hand to the wood, tracing the protective runes there.
With a deep breath, Muni grabbed the iron handle shaped into the roots of a tree and pushed. A deep groan belying it’s true age echoed as the door to Valhalla swung open and welcomed Odin’s raven inside the brilliant light.