Page 98 of Challenge Me

“Let’s talk about it later, alright?”

Her lips turned down, but she nodded. I watched as she hoisted her backpack higher. She tugged on the fasteners, clearly frustrated.

Without waiting for an invitation, I walked over to her. I crouched and looked at her for a moment before I reached out. When she didn’t protest, I worked on tightening the straps.

“Don’t like when it bounces?” I asked.

“No.”

“Good thing it’s an easy fix.” After I’d adjusted both sides, I straightened the backpack and looked her up and down. “Right as rain.”

Her nose wrinkled. “What’s that?”

“Right as rain is what Thor calls it when the weather behaves. You know, no lightning strikes your house and everyone gets to go about their day as usual.”

“Sounds like an old man thing.”

“Probably. I am pretty old.”

“Yeah.”

Breathing a laugh, I tapped her nose. It struck something in me when she didn’t recoil from it.

“You have a good flight, okay, Little Valkyrie?”

Her pinky traced her lip absently, and her eyes were distant. After a second, her gaze moved to my face and settled on my cheek. “Say you’ll see me soon.”

I opened my mouth, then glanced at Amir. His arms were crossed over his chest, but I couldn’t tell what he felt.

“I hope I’ll see you soon,” I replied. “If the Norns don’t tangle my thread, I might just get lucky.” When her brow furrowed, I leaned closer. “You can read all about them in the Völuspá. Maybe we can talk about it next time I see you.”

With a wink, I stood to my full height. I sucked in a breath when her arms came around me. Her face pressed against my stomach, and I tentatively returned the hug. My eyes found Avery’s, which were wide, and I saw her glance at Amir, but I didn’t know what passed between them, nor did I particularly care.

When Mal pulled back, she tucked her fingers under the straps of her backpack and turned to walk toward the door without a word. Avery stepped closer to me, but my chest was too tight to stick around. With a muttered excuse, I headed for the bedroom. Going directly to my bag, I pulled out a box of matches and a wooden Ansuz rune. My thumb traced along its rough edge, and I caught the faint scent of leftover smoke.

Amir appeared in the doorway, but I ignored him as I returned to the kitchen, which was now disgustingly empty. From the cabinet next to the stove, I took out a bottle of whiskey Amir sampled once in a while, then set a rocks glass on the counter.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I poured the whiskey a quarter-way up the glass, then drank half, the taste pricking the back of my throat.

“Odin, One-Eyed Wanderer, the one whose road I’ve walked through every kind of hell.” I touched the rune that hung from my neck, and it was warm beneath my fingers. “Freyja Vanadís, who guarded the blood that came before me. Though I have little to give, hear my words.”

After I struck a match, I stared at the wavering flame as it burned down to my fingertips. When the heat licked at my skin, I dropped it into the whiskey. The flame hissed, flaring briefly before it sputtered out, then I dipped two fingers in and flicked the drops onto the rune.

“Take your eyes from me, and use them to watch over her. And if you’ve got anything left for me, make it mercy.”

Amir came up beside me and rested one hand on the counter. “An offering?”

“Fire for the gods, whiskey for their trouble. Although, Odin prefers mead. Still, one should get them listening.”

“Do they answer?”

“Depends what you consider an answer. It’s not like prayer. There’s no groveling or begging, just speaking to them and giving them a reason to listen. If they have a moment to spare, they’ll acknowledge it.”

“I see.” He took another glass from the cabinet, then set it down and filled it halfway. After taking a swig, he reached for the matches.

It was hard not to smile as I handed them over. “Who will you invoke?”