Dead Embers Read Free Page B

disappeared as my vision cleared,
and I stiffened, forcing my gaping mouth shut.
    We stood on a solid stone platform, carved out of the
mountainside so skillfully that no climber would know it existed until he
stepped right onto it. Solid rock hemmed the ledge in on both sides. A yard or
two away, the ledge narrowed toward a shadowed entrance flanked by two gigantic
statues sculpted straight out of the rock itself.
    A gasp froze in my throat. Two perfectly carved Valkyries
guarded the passage, wings outstretched above us, each feather so lifelike.
Their wings beckoned, and promised safety. My feet moved, following Fen as he
walked into the passage.
    Into the mountain.
    Inside the dark tunnel, I sensed the change in the air. With
each reluctant step, my lightheadedness receded. The bite of the winter cold
softened to a more bearable, breathable freshness.
    We emerged on the other side, and I squinted against the
brightness, shading my eyes against the glare. Fen moved aside, and this time I
did gasp out loud.
    The mountain housed an impossibly beautiful secret within
its rocky face. Fenced in by the rising peaks, draped in an elegant filigree of
snowflakes like a gleaming white pearl within a craggy oyster shell, lay a
stunning hidden valley.
    I gaped, entranced. Then Fen's voice broke the spell.
"Welcome to the Hollow of the Valkyries!"

Chapter 4
     
    "This is your training ground."
    Fen's voice echoed around us, reverberating on my eardrums
as I breathed the icy air deep into my lungs. The valley floor lay far, far
below, almost as far down as Odin's castle on the other side of the mountain.
At least the trip down would be easier than our muscle-burning hike up.
    I hoped.
    Fen folded his arms and faced me, his face as shadowed and
unrelenting as the rock-faces hemming the valley in. "Are you ready,
Valkyrie Brynhildr?"
    I nodded, clenching my jaw and lifting my chin a fraction.
He'd used my full given name, a name that reminded me of my one claim to
fame—being a clone of the real Warrior Princess Brunhilde, who'd lived
and died centuries before I'd even been a figment of my father's crazed
imagination.
    "You do have to remove your cloak, you know." Fen
tempered his dry tone with a sudden cheeky grin, for a brief moment
transforming his forbidding, hooded features into a genial, approachable face.
    I threw him a reluctant, tight smile, undid the ornate clasp
at my neck and dropped the dark, silky cloak over the nearest boulder.
    "Very good. Now face the edge of the cliff. And
jump." He spoke the words so matter-of-factly he might as well have
invited me for a cappuccino.
    "You're kidding, right?" I asked in horror, half
believing he meant his words, half unable to think straight. The sober glance
he threw me squashed my urge to burst into laughter.
    I risked a peek over the edge.
    No way in hell is he serious. No friggin' way.
    I'd never been afraid of heights, but then again I'd never
spent much time in skyscrapers or on mountaintops as high as Mt. Everest. But
the height thing wasn't even the issue. It was the jumping-off-the-edge-of-a-cliff thing that really bugged me.
    I shook my head, taking a good half-dozen steps away, my
heart thundering against my ribs. When I glanced at Fen, I couldn't hide the
sudden stab of fear that thrummed through me.
    Fen must have recognized my terror—I hadn't bothered to hide
it—but he just laughed, the sound hollow and brittle in the frigid air. Bitter,
gravelly laughter edged with a sadness I couldn't explain.
    Whoa, Fen. What's gotten into you?
    The strange laughter stopped, and I met his eyes, scanning
their depths, unsure of what I should do next. Had he really expected me to
jump? The rock-hard grey of his eyes glittered, like chipped stones stolen from
this hidden valley.
    Hard and dead.
    "Valkyrie, you look at me with fear in your eyes. As if
I am truly my father's son."
    His words hurt my heart, and confused me at the same time.
But I remembered that his father was the reason