Surprises are few here in Valhalla, the afterlife Odin has provided for those worthy warriors slain in combat. As a Valkyrie, I know each fighter by name—generally Sven or Bjorn. I know what they want, too—victory or a fresh opponent for battle each day, and more meat or mead during their nightly feasts.
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Tari watched incense drift to the ceiling. After the ceremonies ended, when the artificial gravity automatically shut down, the fragrance would fill the pyramid—weaponized by the addition of a toxic compound. The haze would obscure the gold and precious jewels that glimmered from every surface, deterring any graverobbers who made it past the complex
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I watch the sun rise through the mist, creating an early morning rainbow. The colors glow, and in my awe, I forget the mug I hold. The clatter shatters my reverie, and I blink at the shards on the concrete. I will sweep that up later. For now, I am lost in
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“Sorcha, wait!” Mr. Devereaux calls. The pompous old duck is always telling me to wait. “Feudal Japan isn’t safe for foreigners. Europeans could be killed on sight.”
“Did anyone warn my brother of that?” I yell over my shoulder.
I plunge through the dripping trees to the road beyond.
Please help me! A faint tinny voice pleaded.
“Athenis, did you hear someone?” I yelled above the buzzing alarms.
Athenis glanced up, her screen’s warning messages reflecting red on her scaly, humanoid face. “No. We’re the only ones securing this sector.” She continued nonchalantly swiping away alerts on her handheld interfacer.
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