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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I shuddered as a troll’s roar filled the air. Ocean spray slicked the deck, causing me to slip. I ducked under the swinging fist of another troll, barely visible in the night. My heart drummed against my chest.
We were dead men.
Three hulking trolls surrounded our ship, gripping the masts and…
“You know, you’ve got this all wrong.” Aloysia glared at her unwanted visitor, who’d just burst into her tiny cabin in the heart of Germany’s Black Forest and announced his intention to “rescue” her.
The knight in shining armor stood in front of the twelve-year-old girl, his jaw slack, eyes bulging.
Honestly.
Every patron averted his gaze as Karis walked into the tavern. Even the barkeep avoided her eye while he took her order. She selected a random ale from the list and sat down. The tavern’s occupants continued to converse in hushed whispers.
Karis rolled her eyes and faced the room. “Look, I’m not here
Sunlight glinted as Rayna the Red unsheathed her sword. Fierce lips hissed an incantation caught up and drowned by whipping coastal winds. Seagulls squawked overhead, taunting, foretelling a bad omen as the sky turned shades of amber violet.
“Witch!” Hrothgar, Son of Ragnar, awaited her on the beach, sword ready. “You’ve led us
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