Brenna got up and walked around to her daughter. She tried to tell her that it was time to go, but Kemma wouldn’t budge for her, either. She simply looked at her mother with the same blank eyes that she had looked at Leif with. Then, it dawned on her what the problem was…magic. Brenna hurried to try to stall the situation until she could talk to the others and tell them that she thought Kemma was under the influence of a spell. Until they could break the magic’s hold on her, Kemma wouldn’t agree to leave. They were more than outnumbered by the warriors in Valhalla, so any attempt to try to just take her would certainly fail. She blurted out the first thing that she could think of.
“Are the three Fates here?” she said.
Everyone gave her a surprised and curious look, mostly Bard.
“Yes,” he answered as he tapped his fingers on the top of the table. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve heard that they sometimes visit Valhalla. We have been looking for them. Brandt and I would like to speak with them.”
Brandt had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but he knew his mate must be doing this for a reason, so he played along.
“Yes, if they are here, please let the two of us speak to them before we leave. We have important questions that need answers.”
Bard did not seem at all convinced that they were being honest about their intention with the Fates, and he figured that it was nothing more than an attempt at a stall tactic. But Brandt picked up on his hesitation and quickly added something to sweeten the deal.
“It will give Kemma more time in Valhalla before we need to leave.”
“What makes you think she will be leaving with you? If she chooses to stay, that is.”
Brandt needed to match Bard’s strength, or this would never work. “I know my daughter,” he said. “I can see that Valhalla has a special pull on her heart, but in the end, parents always know their children…she will come with us.”
Bard was just threatened enough by the prospect of Kemma exerting free will over him, that he entertained the idea.
“The three Fates are indeed here, and you may speak to them if you like. I was actually hoping to have more time to show Kemma the courtyard anyway.”
“We’ll come too,” Colby said quickly to ensure that Kemma would not be left alone with Bard.
The warrior didn’t seem pleased by the idea of having Colby, Jerrik, and Leif, all part of his entourage, but he didn’t protest it. Instead, he just walked over to take Kemma’s hand.
“This will be fun,” he said as he smiled at her. “Edwin, please show Brandt and Brenna to the Fates.”
At his request, the warrior with the thick, chestnut-brown braids walked over, holding a large mug of ale. It was amazing to Brenna how much these men could drink in one sitting, maybe being part of the afterlife raised your alcohol tolerance. At least this man looked less conniving than Bard. He simply looked like he was enjoying the afterlife with as little thought to plotting or fighting as possible.
“Come,” he said with a hospitable mannerism. “I think the Fates are in the old cathedral. I’ll show you the way.”
“Thank you,” Brenna smiled as they followed Edwin out of the hall.
The old cathedral was beautiful. It was crumbling, no doubt, which was in direct opposition to the otherwise thriving visual aesthetic of Valhalla. But it was crumbling in a beautifully archaic and delicate way. The gray stones forming the walls were rounded with age, and the moss that grew between the cracks was lush and looked as though it was acting as an adhesive to hold the building together in its weak spots, instead of pushing the cracks apart. The stained glass windows were still brilliant in color, and the sun shone through the round orifices and cast a rainbow of colored shadows onto the ground. The cathedral was a strange juxtaposition between trying to be gothic and foreboding but also looking like it had been dropped smack in the middle of the revelry of Valhalla and was trying to blend in with a burst of color, yet somehow failing miserably.
As they walked inside, the interior of the church was vacant of any pews or altars. There were wide-open stone floors and tall pillars holding up the sagging ceiling, which had once reached up to the clouds. At the very farthest point of the room, sat three women all in a circle on the floor. There was a large piece of fur beneath them, which they sat upon, and a bowl of water in the center between them. As they got closer to the women, Brenna could see that there were leaves floating on the water in the bowl. They seemed to swirl unnaturally in the motionless water, and all but one of the women was staring intently at the pattern the leaves made. The third Fate was instead staring at Brenna as they walked nearer.
“My ladies,” Edwin announced when he stopped in front of the women. He took a deep bow and then motioned to Brandt and Brenna with a sweeping gesture of his hand, which caused some of his ale to spill onto the cathedral’s floor. “I bring a gift.”
All three of the women now looked up to see who was here.
Edwin turned to Brandt and Brenna. “May I present to you, the three Fates.”
The temperature on Valhalla was pleasant. It was neither hot nor cold, but relatively perfect and comfortable enough that you could probably go without clothes and still be content. When they walked out into the courtyard, Bard paused to look at Kemma’s reaction. The courtyard itself was stunning. It was a huge rectangular garden space nestled within the exterior sections just outside of the hall. The entire space was portioned into various gardens with cobblestone pathways that could be walked. Some of the areas were covered by overhanging trees and trellises, and some of them had stone benches to sit on. The most impressive part was the massive collection of rosebushes that greeted them as soon as they stepped fully outside. The scent of roses was overpowering in the best of ways that made the air smell as sweet as an intoxicating drug. Kemma’s eyes opened wide, and a gigantic smile grew onto her lips.
“This is amazing!” she said as she turned to Bard and kissed him on the cheek.
Colby, Jerrik, and Leif were all shocked to silence, not by the garden, but by Kemma’s reaction. They stood behind the pair, wondering what to do. Kemma clearly wasn’t in her right mind. She was acting like a completely different person. But still, there was no obvious harm being done to her, and no way to tell what sort of influence she was under. Accusing the warrior of something without proof would surely cause a huge conflict on Valhalla, so what could they do but wait, keep an eye on Kemma to make sure she remained safe, and see how things played out.
Kemma leaped forward and ran among the flowers in the garden as though she were a small child in a fairytale. Her dress blew in the breeze behind her. Leif remembered what she had been wearing when she was killed, and that dress was not it. She must have gotten it here in Valhalla. It made him uncomfortable to watch her run through the courtyard in the thin dress that showed every dimple of her skin beneath it, both because it turned him on and because he knew it was turning on at least two other men standing with him as well. The men walked into the courtyard, Jerrik and Colby took a seat together on a nearby bench while Leif stood next to them, keeping his eye on Kemma as she frolicked. Bard walked slowly in a swagger amongst the bushes, pretending not to be staring at Kemma and picking roses instead.
There were two things Jerrik noticed as he sat and watched. The first was that Bard seemed impervious to pain. He watched as the warrior picked roses from their stems, and the thick, sharp thorns pushed into the flesh of his fingertips as they broke from the plant. Bard didn’t seem to even notice as the blood dripped down his wrist before he pulled the thorns out without so much as a flinch and tossed the tiny bloodied spears to the ground.