The dwarves didn’t let him live. I found it in the police blotter – he “fell” from the balcony.

I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I supposed my half sister would have something interesting in mind for him. I felt bad about not feeling bad, but I got over it pretty quickly. It did make me quite glad Derek had proved to be fixable, though.

I wouldn’t have wanted to have to kill him. Now my best hope was that I would never have to consider doing so. Of course, I realized that was the case for all of my friends. What if I hadn’t been able to free Clara the time she’d been turned into a magic battery?

I knew I might have had to kill her.

And, I suppose, I was finally coming around to the idea that death wasn’t the end. After all, I pretty much had killed Monica – but only because she’d begged me to and only when she was about to die anyway.

Because Odin…had needed what happened. I wondered what further tests he might have. I hoped that Kanesha being mine meant he couldn’t touch her directly.

No, I was pretty sure of that. If she went through hell, it would be because I put her there. Which meant I had to be careful, that was all.

Later that day there came a knock at my door. I opened it, and there was a dwarf. I could sort of see the edge of his disguise, which made him look a bit more human.

“Lady Siglaugr. May I come in?”

I opened the door. “Of course.”

“Thank you for freeing our brethren.” He glanced at my sword and smiled a little.

“I rather like dwarves,” I admitted. “And I rather dislike racists.”

“Ah. I have never understood the human obsession with precise skin color.”
This particular dwarf was almost as dark as Kanesha, and I recalled that I’d seen quite the variety in their hall. “They don’t have as much contact with beings that aren’t human so have to look for other people to be different from.”

The dwarf laughed. “I am Torvald,” he introduced. “And I brought a gift.”

I knew what was in the bag before he pulled it out. A stone bottle of dwarven ale. I laughed. “I’d better not share that with any mortals.”

He grinned. “Just call it a small reward for untying my brother. Who, by the way, is recovering.”

“He tried that spell on me. It stung.”

The dwarf laughed. “Fool. But he is in Hel’s Realm now.”

I nodded. “I would have let him live, but I suppose I’m more inclined towards humiliation than death.”

More laughter. “We could not let him live with the knowledge of how to trap us. He would have done it again until he got what he wanted…”

“…which, ultimately, wouldn’t have been beer. That was where it would have started.”

“He would have forced us to give him something that might destroy his soul and kill thousands. It’s happened before.”

“Dwarven weapons are not meant to be in mortal hands.”

“Except one, which was returned to us after the mortal had no more need of it,” the dwarf said, cryptically.

“Two. Kanesha’s.”

I expected him to give an answer of “That one doesn’t count.” He didn’t. Just winked at me.

So, I opened the ale and poured two glasses. Torvald had some very interesting stories.

“What happened?”

“He decided he deserved another lesson,” I said grimly.

Realizing he was outnumbered again, he made a dash for the door. Kanesha tripped him on his way past and he went flying, hitting his head on the opposite wall and going limp.

“Oh dear. I think you broke him.”

She moved to check. “Still alive.”

Unfortunately, I thought. “Maybe we should feed him to that dwarf.”

“That dwarf is coming back with friends.”

I nodded. “Then I vote we leave him here, tied up, and let them deal with him.”

We tied him to the bed, not because we wanted to be kinky, but because it was the best place in there to put an unconscious loser. Then we closed, but didn’t lock the door behind us and left.

If maintenance wandered in they’d probably think it was a BDSM tryst gone wrong. I hoped they wouldn’t, though, because they’d untie him.

“What did he do to make you so angry?”

“The n-word,” I said, finally.

Her face fell. “Oh.”

“And trying to speak for Odin, and calling my father and I demons, and…put it this way if he’d been any good with a blade you’d be my second in a duel.”

At that she laughed. “That might have been entertaining.”

“I don’t fight the handicapped.” My anger was starting to fade, though. At one level he was just a kid who had messed up. At other levels, though, he was a racist, homophobic dweeb.

A raven landed on a nearby lamp post. “Thank you for dealing with him,” Hunin said.

Kanesha looked startled. Apparently she’d heard him to.

“I didn’t. I left him for the dwarves to deal with.”

“The dwarves will probably let him live,” the raven mused. “Probably.”

“I’m not sure I care.” I let out a breath. “I know, I should…”

“You have no need to be above beating up mortals who insult you,” the raven pointed out, then started preening.

I shook my head. “Maybe I have a desire to, though.”

Through his wing, a little muffled, “Just be who you are, Siglaugr.”

“Which one was that?” Kanesha asked.

“Hunin. Don’t worry, it took me a while to tell them apart too.”

“I hadn’t really realized how big ravens are.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re even bigger.” But then, how big was a raven? I wasn’t sure.

Either way, the dwarves could deal with the racist dweeb and I didn’t have to listen to him any more. That was good enough for me.

Another Derek was the last thing I needed, but it was the best case scenario. It wasn’t what we had to deal with.

Yes, he did release the dwarf, who grumped off with Kanesha as escort.

“So, if you’re not a valkyrie, what are you? You look the part except for her.”

He was glaring at the door.
“She is my partner. And I am not a valkyrie, no, but I do work for Odin in some ways.” I had a feeling that if I told him who I was he’d jump me and I’d have to hurt him.

“You don’t have me outnumbered any more.”

“I doubt you could take me.”

Of course, he tried. And I hadn’t quite noticed him wriggling to get a cane behind the chair. The cane, of course, had a sword blade in it.

Fortunately for me, it was shorter than my blade and a non-edged rapier. I batted it away and out of his hand. “So…you’d attack somebody who works for Odin?”

“I’d attack a liar, now that her backup’s gone.”

My eyes narrowed. “How do you know I’m a liar?”

“Because you’re sleeping with another woman and a nig…”

He didn’t get to finish the slur before I hit him with the flat of my blade. He was lucky at that point that it was the flat. “Good job you said that after she left, or she’d kill you, and I’d have let her.”

“Odin isn’t served by perverts and negros.” He did at least avoid the slur this time.

“Odin can be served by whoever he chooses.” I knew people like this kid existed. I was disappointed to actually meet one. Skinheads thinking they could tell Odin what to do.

“And he’s made…”

I smiled. “Have you ever met him? Have you ever even met any of his servants?” I hoped Kanesha wouldn’t come back any time soon.

“I don’t need to.” He was still on his feet, but backing towards the balcony door.

The temptation to tip him over the edge was high. “After what you’ve done and those insults, what…”

“Are you going to demand satisfaction or something?”

I laughed. “No, because I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back.”

Which was, of course, the point at which he tried the same binding spell he’d used on the dwarf on me.

There’s a big difference between a dwarf and even an immature goddess. I batted the spell aside with my off hand and his eyes widened.

“I,” I said finally, “am Siglaugr Lokisdottir, daughter of the flame. And I have had quite enough of you.”

Thruor would probably have come to this point faster.

“Demon!” he yelled. And charged again.

This time I batted him aside. With the flat again. “I’m choosing not to kill you because you aren’t worth the explanations.”

He glared at me.

“Stand down.”

He tried another spell. This one threw ice at me, set hoarfrost on the carpet. He was definitely losing his security deposit.

I stepped towards him again, all set to stop messing around with the flat, when Kanesha came back in the door.

It wasn’t hard to find the culprit. It wasn’t hard to find them at all. I could pretty much smell them.

Maybe that was why Sarael hadn’t given me more information. Maybe he figured I’d sense them better than he had. But I still wasn’t going to be that charitable and not assume he wasn’t just being a typical angel.

Fifth floor. I took the stairs, that being easier than guessing in the elevator, Kanesha right behind me.

I wasn’t sure I liked the way she was grinning. I didn’t need her going berserk on me or something.

Fifth floor, turn left. Just an apartment the same as those around it. With a grin of my own, I knocked on the door.

“Go away.”

“Maintenance,” Kanesha said.

I glanced at her, but it worked, they came to open the door. As soon as they did I was in the apartment.

“What the…?”

“You’re about to learn the reality of what you’ve been messing with. Where is he?”

“Who?” The young man swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing.

I fixed my eyes on him. “You know.”

“Odin’s Beard…you’re a valkyrie!”

I laughed. “No, dear me, no.”

Then he saw Kanesha. “What the…”

She stepped past me, and pushed him into a chair.

“I wouldn’t mess with her. She’s worse than me. Now. Where’s the dwarf?”

“Asleep in the bedroom.”

“I was told you trapped him.” My lips quirked. “So, I suggest you wake him up. If it’s not true, I’ll know.”

But I already did know. I could feel the chains of whatever spell he’d used.

“I only wanted…”

I stepped back. Then I drew my sword. “This.”

His eyes bulged.

“You wanted dwarf-forged steel. Or something like.”

“Not a sword. Not…I…”

I rested the point on the ground, not really caring about carpet damage and his security deposit. “Kanesha, go wake the dwarf. Be careful.”

She nodded, and stepped into the bedroom.

“So, you found a way, probably using rune magic, to summon a dwarf and tried to force him to make…”

“…I…”

“What?”

“…a cooler of endless beer.”

I laughed. “Man, you do not want to drink dwarven ale. Not at your body mass.”

This was completely ridiculous.

“Sit down.”

He already was sitting, but he kind of tried to relax. I sheathed the sword again, sat down next to him.

“Okay, you’re going to release the dwarf. Then you and I are going to have a long talk. Just be glad I’m not a valkyrie.”

Thruor would have beaten the guy with the flat of her blade, I was sure of it. “A long talk about reality,” I added. “And why you need to be more careful with rune magic.”

The dwarf would have made the cooler produce dwarven ale that tasted like regular beer to give the guy alcohol poisoning, if he had any sense at all. But then, maybe I was thinking like Loki.

“…okay.”

Back in street clothes, I came around to the front door to see the angel leaning on the outside.

“Seeing a warrior like you in feminine frippery is amusing.”

“The two things don’t contradict. Tell me this is a social call?”

“‘Fraid not. I need your help.”

“Why?” The angel asking me for my help made me feel suspicious. “Is it Derek?”

“No.” A pause. “Somebody’s managed to trap a dwarf.”

I winced. “What are they doing? Making them work metal for them?”

“Pretty much.”

I nodded slightly. Sarael was handing this over to me much as I was trying to hand demons over to him. “I’ll take care of it if you’ll keep an eye on Derek.”

“Deal. You’ll find the evidence in Rosslyn, Carlton Building.” The angel gave me a sardonic grin and then walked away, the vaguest sense of feathers surrounding him.

I called Kanesha, asked her to bring both swords and meet me in Rosslyn. A trapped dwarf?

Sarael hadn’t given more than that, or he hadn’t felt he needed to. Or hadn’t known. It was hard to tell which it was. Angels didn’t like to give out information, I’d noticed. Even nice ones.

The Carlton Building was hard to miss, though. The sense of something nasty around it reminded me of when I had met Zaid and dealt with an evil priest. So, I was probably dealing with, oh, a bad witch or something.

Except it felt close, familiar. I winced, but waited across the street until Kanesha showed up with weapons.

That made me feel better. “What are we dealing with?” she asked.

“Sarael told me somebody trapped a dwarf.”

“In there.” She narrowed her eyes. It was an apartment block, an older one that had somehow been left behind when the skyscrapers went up. Such as they were – Rosslyn had nothing on New York, but it vaguely tried to be that. Or Chicago.

Thirty stories was a respectable high rise. It only wanted to be an actual skyscraper when it grew up. This building was ten.

“Funny how it hasn’t been replaced by something higher density, isn’t it,” I commented casually, strengthening my ‘nobody notice me’ field so people wouldn’t see the swords.

“Funny ha ha.” Kanesha grinned. “So…”
“So…there’s something nastily familiar about what I’m sensing. I want to work out for sure what it is before we go in.”

She nodded. “Could it be…”

“It’s not fire giants. No, this is mortals messing with stuff, but…” My nostrils flared, I could feel it.

“…it’s people who fancy themselves as priests of the Aesir or something, isn’t it.”

Startled, I glanced at her. Then I nodded. “Yeah. Bound to happen.”

“Let’s go educate them.”

I grinned, and then headed for the door.

Things settled down, though. I was obviously taking more work now I didn’t have school to worry about. Starting to build a bit of a name.

Which almost worried me. Did I really want to risk too many people knowing my face and name? Part of me wanted to be famous. Part of me, well, didn’t. At all. I worried that I would be too easy to track.

Then again, I made a pretty good lightning rod. When I was being attacked, somebody less able to defend themselves wasn’t. I pulled on the blue dress and frowned. “I don’t like the fit on this.”

“Let me take a look.” One of the designer’s assistants came over. “Let’s switch you out with Sarita over there.”

I knew Sarita’s name was actually Sarah, but she’d changed it to something more unusual. I shrugged out of the dress again. She handed me an aquamarine and yellow one. It fit, although I wasn’t sure it was my colors.

I didn’t argue with the designer, though. Not because I thought he knew better – I didn’t – but because I didn’t have enough of a name to diva just yet.

Of course, taking a few design classes would help with that kind of credibility, and I still planned to in the fall. For what it was worth.

Surtur was likely to try and kidnap me again before then, and if he succeeded, then I might have to kill him after all.

I didn’t want to, but I wasn’t going to let him rape me or something. No, I had the right to defend myself. Maybe that would protect me from the consequences.

I let the woman help me zip up the back of the dress and slipped my feet into complementary heels. I hated heels, even now, but they were necessary, and as long as I didn’t have to fight in them or something…

Pro tip: Fighting in high heels is really hard. Do remember that when drawing comic book characters. And, of course, I didn’t have a weapon.

I was starting to worry somebody would attack during a shoot just to catch me unarmed and in impractical clothing.

But I figured I could handle most things even in that state. I did miss Monica, though, every time I stepped out in front of the camera.

Every time, I saw her face, not the face of the Monica dying of cancer. But I knew she was okay. I knew she was in Asgard. That didn’t help as much as it might.

I didn’t know how people managed who had to take these things on faith. Who barely spoke to their gods.

Of course, Father Will got to speak to angels. Speaking of which, I was suddenly convinced Sarael was around somewhere.

Which probably meant trouble. He wouldn’t show up just to admire women in nice dresses – angels weren’t supposed to…weren’t allowed to leer at women. Or men.

Sarael might have a sense of humor but he also knew what would happen to him if he broke the rules. But he was here.

Which meant some kind of trouble. Or he was stalking me to talk to me once I was finished.

“Friend of yours?” one of the other girls asked as I stepped back.

“Which…”

“The guy with the black hair, bit Middle Eastern looking.”

“Yeah. He’s a friend.”

Maybe he had just come to admire. But I doubted it very much.

“He’s not cursed, per se,” Clara said, finally, dipping into her bowl of chocolate ice cream.

“Then…”

“Tracking spell.” She glanced at Derek. “Demons can’t touch our souls, but they can put tracers on us.”

“So I was right and he’s being stalked.”

“I dispelled it, which is only a short term thing.”

“Can,” Derek asked, “You trace it back to the source?”

“Demon.”

I sighed. “I’d lay bets it’s the same demon that was pretending to be your guardian angel.”

“Clara said I should learn magic.” Derek looked down a bit. “I always figured I’d only learn the very basics and…”

“If you have the talent, you should learn,” Clara said, firmly. “Otherwise you really might end up doing it without realizing it and causing all sorts of trouble.”

I couldn’t resist, “Yeah, you could accidentally let out a python.”

Apparently, Derek had never read Harry Potter, because he just looked vaguely confused. “Alright,” he said, finally.

Clara nodded. “I’ll hook you up.”

With training he’d be less dangerous if we could trust him. More if we couldn’t. I couldn’t shake my doubts.

“And I…” A pause. “Promise not to hurt innocent supernaturals.”

I grinned. “Go after the guilty ones. There are plenty. Not that I’m that innocent.”

He mock-punched me. “You know what I mean.”

I grinned. “I do.”

But I needed to lay my doubts to rest. How could I know for sure? I couldn’t. The demon would lie. Derek would lie if he was secretly a bad guy. I couldn’t read his mind, and wouldn’t want to if I could.

And his father might cause trouble too. I definitely would have been happier if Derek left town. Went somewhere else. Somewhere where he wouldn’t be my problem. Maybe that was selfish, but I had enough on my plate.

I reminded myself that I might not trust Derek, but I did trust Clara.

“Okay,” Derek said, finally. “Just let me know how we’re going to start.”

“I’ll talk to some people tomorrow.”

She meant her coven, obviously. I hoped Derek fit in there. I hoped that they could keep an eye on him.

“Can you put some wards on him?” Seb asked, abruptly.

“I can. Against tracking and scrying at least. The demon will notice, mind.”

“Good,” I said, firmly. “If he notices he’ll come out of the woodwork. I’m going to go talk to Father Will about a book.”

Clara grinned. “You do that.”

“Book?” Derek said, confused.

“One that might help us get your demon friend’s true name so we can banish him.”

“Oh.” He sounded oddly unconvinced about that. Probably because he had yet to see Will in action.

Well. He’d learn. Or he’d warn the demon, and then we’d know. Or would we? I tried to clear my head on the matter, but I knew I wasn’t entirely sure who was in charge and in control.

What if Derek was being…no. Clara would have found mind control, as long as she spent on it. I forced that thought out of my mind. “We’ll get rid of him for you.”

“Thank you,” Derek said, finally, if uncertainly.

I put it down to him not being sure we could rather than not being sure he wanted to. For now.

I stepped out of the room while Clara checked Derek for curses, not wanting my aura to interfere with her senses.

I still thought it wasn’t a curse per se, but some demon, likely the same one, following him around to cause trouble. But it was worth the small effort of checking.

“There’s one other possibility,” Seb said.

“What’s that?”

“Poltergeist syndrome. Subconscious magic.”

“Meaning Derek might be causing the bad stuff to happen himself without realizing it?” It made a dark kind of sense.

“Right. It’s something you see sometimes in witches that have a lot of talent but no training.”

I stored that away in my head. “If it’s that, then obviously the answer is to train him.”

Sebastian nodded. “Clara’s coven could take him. She’s going to check for that as well.”

Yet another reason to keep me and my divine magic at a bit of a distance. “Good. I’d rather kind of…”

“…get Derek and his problems to the point where they can be dealt with by Derek?”

I grinned at him. “Yeah. Exactly. I have enough issues with Surtur threatening to cause Ragnarok.”

“And properly trained he’ll at least be useful not a liability.”

“I hope so.” I rather thought Derek would always be something of a liability, but I kept that to myself for now. Seb didn’t need to hear my bitching about the guy. “I hope we can trust him.”

“If he’s pulling something on us…” Seb tailed off.

“Clara can’t detect that. I don’t really think he is, but for some reason I’m finding it very hard to fully trust him.”

“For some reason being because he’s so easily duped you aren’t sure he’s not still working for a demon without knowing it.”
That was the most charitable face to put on my fears. So, for now, I just nodded in semi-agreement.

“I’m going to track down some chocolate ice cream,” Seb added. “I think Clara will need it and the rest of us…”

“…will never turn it down.” I grinned at him. “Just don’t put cayenne in it or you’ll attract Loki.”

“I don’t think they sell it that way.” He ducked out, heading for a convenience store to stock up on ice cream. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Well, maybe not entirely alone. I glanced at the door, knowing they’d be a while yet, then stepped outside myself. It was a hot day, summer in full force. Muggy, too. The threat of rain that might not actually come for days.

I was used to that by now. I looked up at a sky that had a few drifting clouds in it and thought that this world was still worth protecting.

Even, perhaps, from itself.

But I didn’t let it dampen my mood for long, especially as my insurance payment came through. I was able to get some decent furniture in my new place.

Kanesha was able to move in full time. Nobody in the building paid much attention to us except for one old lady, who insisted on disapproving looks that may have been based off of gender, race, or most likely of all both.
We ignored her. She wasn’t worth it. And Surtur was busy, none of his rivals showed up to bug me.

It was summer.

Everything was far too perfect to last, and I knew it. But I enjoyed it while I had it. I’d learned to claim normality when I could.

Not that everyone thought I was normal. But I pretended…for about a week. A very pleasant week.

Then, of course, I heard from Derek again. Not a frantic call, this time, not an emergency – but very definitely a request for my or for our help.

He asked to meet at a coffee shop. Me and Kanesha went there. Of course, I still had my doubts about him, but he was there as planned.

I know what happened next wasn’t his fault. I know he didn’t do it.

I sensed the explosion in enough time to get Kanesha and myself under the table. I couldn’t pull Derek down, but I hoped he had the sense to hit the deck. He wasn’t completely untrained, after all.

“I don’t think that was aimed at us,” Kanesha murmured.

“I don’t care.” I got up…feeling bruised and cut up, but I didn’t seem to be seriously injured. Whatever had exploded had been behind the counter. The barrista was on the floor, unconscious or dead. There were more injuries. “Kanesha, mind calling an ambulance?”

I didn’t have to go over to the barrista to check on her. She was alive and likely to stay that way. So, I went past her, behind the bar, to see if I could work out what blew up.

Whether it was an accident or a bomb.

If it was a bomb, who was it aimed at? I didn’t know. I didn’t think it was me. Kanesha was right.

None of my enemies would do something like this.

But what about Derek’s? Blowing him up was kind of pathetic, but he had a lot of enemies. And I sensed something vaguely demonic. Then I knew I wasn’t going to find a device.
The police would be mystified. I hopped back over the counter. “No bomb. Looks like some kind of malfunction of the coffee machine.”

“Ambulance and police are on the way. Is she…?”

“She’s alive,” I assured Kanesha. “Derek?”

“That’s…that’s what I called you about. Everywhere I go…something bad is happening. I think I’ve been cursed.”

I shook my head. “I’ll have Clara check, but no, I think you’re being stalked.”

He sighed. “Help?”
“I will,” I promised. It was a small problem in the scheme of things. A small problem, but it would, I thought, rather keep me busy. Once we were out of there, I made a note to call Father Will.
We might need that book again.

My locker was empty. I was done with high school. I had decided to apply to do some fashion design courses – the plan of moving to New York was contingent on Kanesha getting the financial aid to allow her to transfer to a university up there.

For the first time, I was imagining that we’d actually be able to do that. To pretend to be normal people for a while. Well, not normal, but at least not living in fear of Surtur showing up any moment.

He still might, but even the small amount by which it was less likely was helping me feel better about things. About life. Taking the last of my stuff, I walked out the gates for the last time.

It felt like leaving prison. It felt like adulthood, although I suspected I was rather further from that than my so-called peers.

Or not. Maybe we grew up exactly as fast as we needed or wanted to. It wasn’t like it affected anything.

I wasn’t expecting to see Tyr outside. He was the last person I was expecting to bump into. “Hi.”

“Hello.” A pause. “How are you doing?”

Small talk? “What do you want?” I quipped. “To check on me.”

“To warn you,” he admitted. “Don’t think he’s gone.”

“I don’t. I’m hoping he’ll be busy for a while.”

Tyr laughed. “Oh, he will be. But he’ll be back, and if he can prove his people still respect him…”

“…then any reason to treat me honorably as opposed to just trying to drag me back to his cave by my hair is gone.”

Gravely, Tyr nodded. “He is afraid.”

“Of? His political opposition?”

“Of you.”

A pause. “Of me? Maybe I should tell him I’m not the one who will kill him. Would make him paranoid, too.”

“Of you. That is why he wants to keep you so close. Unfortunately, what he knows I don’t.”

“There’s a prophecy.”

“Which Odin keeps very close. I believe only he, the Norns, and Loki know the full wording.”

So, my father knew. And knew better than to tell me. “I think they’re afraid if I knew it, I’d mess up.”

“Likely. But…he will be back, and he may not care how he reaches his goals.”

“I’ll be careful.” I almost asked him why he cared. No, he didn’t care for me as a person.

He cared in the abstract form about a woman not being forced. That was Tyr, I understood that now. He cared a lot, but it was never personal, never intimate.

Or maybe he needed that distance to do his job. I hoped I would never have to live like that.

I hoped that whatever job I had would be something designed for me, for my strengths, my weaknesses, and my joys.

Parts of the universe choosing their own path…