Demon-Killing Sword

25. Hero

Her eyes met Huginn's. Muninn shifted subtly. She drew the sword.

Odin crossed his arms. He stood between them and the wall.

Now. Muninn charged at the doors.

Huginn ran beside her. He dropped to kneel, hands braced to give her a foothold. His shoulder thumped into the doors.

Odin faded away. Nothing stood between them and the door.

"No!"

The voice was higher than Odin's, not a low rumble but a pure, clear note. Sigurd appeared out of the miasma behind Huginn, a flash of steel in his hands. For a second, Muninn stared. He was the image of the hero. Shining armor. A glittering sword. Even his heavy bangs were exactly as they'd been in her memory, though they parted as he charged to reveal his third eye, as golden as the other two. Lips parted in a grimace, he sliced down at Huginn's back.

No! Muninn kicked Huginn's shoulder. He fell backward. The sword swung over his head, so close it sliced his hair. Light-footed, Muninn danced back.

With a single leap, Sigurd cleared Huginn and chased her. Muninn turned and fled. She barely had any blade left on the Demon-Killing Sword, and this was the greatest knight Midgar had ever seen. In a head-on fight, she didn't stand a chance.

It was no use. Sigurd was faster than her, too. The space between them narrowed. "Give me that sword!" Sigurd growled as he drew his sword back.

Something thumped into the small of his back. Sigurd staggered forward, stance thrown off. A small earthen ball tinkled to the floor.

Muninn dropped. She clapped her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.

An explosion rocked the floor beneath her, so close she felt the heat on her face and the blast in her chest. Sigurd staggered and fell. Armor clanged against marble.

The second she heard the clash of metal and stone, Muninn jumped up. She ran for Huginn, her hand out. "Huginn, that thing—the grim—"

"Duck!" Huginn shouted.

Without any hesitation, Muninn threw herself to the ground. A sword whistled through the air inches above her back. Cold air shivered over her skin from the force of the strike. From the ground, she rolled over and kicked back and up, between the legs, like Mom always told me.

Sigurd flinched back to dodge her heel, and in that second, a glass vial shattered on his breastplate. Acid sizzled. It ate away the metal, reeking like iron and vinegar. Sigurd grabbed at the armor and yanked it away from his skin. His other hand scrabbled at the clasps and fumbled them open.

Muninn crawled to her feet and ran to Huginn. She held her hand out. He reached for her.

The breastplate crashed to the floor. "Stop!" Sigurd snarled, raising his sword again.

Their hands met.

Brunhild stood before Sigurd. She smiled and raised her hands to him, as if reaching for a hug.

Sigurd faltered. His sword stopped dead in the air. "Brunhild." He stepped forward. Reached out for her, ever-so-slow. "I..."

Huginn heaved Muninn upward, and the illusion broke. Muninn grabbed onto the hollow where the seal had been and dug her feet into the carvings. The sword was tucked firmly in her belt. Her eyes locked onto the dragon, high above.

"No!" Sigurd half-screamed, half-sobbed. He struck at Huginn. Red blossomed on white.

"Huginn!" Muninn shouted. She hesitated, half up the wall.