Saga had seen a future, but I was unfated. I could change the course of my destiny and, in doing so, change the fates of so many others. Could save them from falling beneath axe and sword.
“Be brave,” I whispered, my hand going to the hilt of my sword, hoping that my sacrifice would earn me a place in Valhalla as I gathered myself to leap, knowing that the rocks at the base of the falls would make it quick.
The specter appeared in front of me.
I skidded to a stop as it held up its hand, embers and smoke drifting from it. Then fingers latched onto my wrist, yanking me away from the edge.
I shrieked, certain that it was Tora. Certain that I’d failed; but the chest I was dragged against was Bjorn’s. “Where you go, I go,” he said, hauling me back upstream. “And I’m not letting you go to Valhalla without me at your side.”
“It’s the only way,” I pleaded, trying to get out of his grip. “I need to change my fate. I need to save my people.”
“And you will.” His axe appeared in his hand as he pulled me farther upstream, his eyes on Tora, who kept pace with us, her expression wary. Beyond, Harald and his men raced closer even as Snorri’s warriors poured out of the gates, a battle soon to be upon us.
My efforts would be for nothing.
“How do you think this will work, Bjorn?” Tora shouted. “You think you’ll just escape with her? Every king and jarl within a thousand miles will be hunting for you. It will never end. Never.”
“Then let us end it here and now, with weapons in hand,” Bjorn said, and taking two quick steps, he heaved his axe.
Tora’s eyes widened as the flaming weapon flipped end-over-end. She had no shield. Nothing to block it. Nothing but magic.
Lightning crackled from her hands, arcing toward the axe.
Only for the weapon to disappear right as Bjorn caught hold of my waist and pulled me backward. I caught a glimpse of the lightning striking the ground where we’d stood, dirt and rock exploding in all directions with a clap of thunder before water closed over my head.
I kicked my way to the surface, the rapids whipping me this way and that. Waves splashed me in the face as I gasped in a breath, searching for Bjorn, panic filling my veins when I didn’t see him. “Bjorn!”
What if he’d hit his head?
What if he’d been dragged under?
“Bjorn!” I screamed his name, but my voice was drowned out by thunder. For a heartbeat, I thought it was Tora attacking us from the bank with her lightning, but then I realized.
The falls.
Sucking in a breath, I dropped under the surface, searching. It was all froth and bubbles, my fingers finding nothing as I reached around me. Kicking back up, I drew in another breath, ready to try again.
But hands caught hold of my shoulders.
I gasped, twisting my head. Only to find Bjorn behind me. His hair was plastered to his face by water, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.
“We need to get to the bank!” I screamed. “We’ll die if we go over the falls!”
“Deep breath, Born-in-Fire.” His grin was wild. “And trust Hlin to protect you.”
“What?” I shrieked, realizing that he was kicking us to the center of the river. Realizing he intended for us to go over.
And then we dropped.
My stomach rushed to my throat, my eyes going down, down, down to the deadly froth of water and rocks. A scream rose but as it tore from my lips, it was Hlin’s name that came forth.
Magic flooded from my fingertips, first covering Bjorn and then my own body with silver light. A heartbeat later, we struck.
Even with Hlin’s protection, the impact drove the air from my lungs. And there was nothing to fill them as we rose up, then were slammed down into the riverbed again, the water holding us in its perpetual churn. Spinning us around and around until I didn’t know which way was up. My elbows struck rock but instead of the water dragging me upward in its inescapable cycle, Bjorn tightened his grip on me, pulling me along the riverbed.
I needed to breathe.
Desperate, I fought his hold. I needed to reach the surface. Needed a mouthful of air even if it meant the falls dragging me back under a second later.
Bjorn pinned my arms to my ribs, dragging me along the river floor. My eyes dimmed, the pain in my chest demanding air air air.
Then I was surging upward.
Bjorn lifted me above the surface, and I gasped in a precious mouthful as the river tore us downstream and around a bend.
“Get to the bank!” Bjorn shouted. “Swim, Freya!”
Kicking hard, I kept my eyes on the edge of the river, fighting my way through the current. Rocks banged against my legs, bruising and scraping my flesh. I ignored the pain and swam. Finally, coughing and spluttering, I dragged myself onto the bank of the river, every inch of me aching. Only when I was able to breathe again did I round on Bjorn, who was on his hands and knees hacking up half the river. “Have you lost your mind?”