Demon-Killing Sword

21.4 Valkyrie

Muninn stood completely still, eyes wide. He can see me?

"I just made mommy not angry," the dark-haired girl responded. "I fixed it."

She whipped around and stared at the girl. It can't be. Who else could it be? That little girl was her. Muninn looked over at the man. If that was Huginn's father, then didn't that make the white-haired one Huginn? She reeled and pressed a hand against her forehead. But then, that means...

"Daddy doesn't like it," the white-haired one said. He tightened his grip on the girl's hand. "Make him forget, too."

Her stomach lurched with fear, though she didn't know why. "Don't," she whispered.

The little girl reached out. Beside her, the little boy closed his eyes.

A wave of energy pushed through the room. Their father threw his hand up. When the energy hit his hand, it rebounded. The ring reflected inward and closed around the girl.

Suddenly, Muninn was the little girl. She felt the energy rush back at her. Looked up at her father, betrayed. Why?

She collapsed. Everything was gone. Her thoughts. Her memories. There was nothing at all. Her mind was empty.

"I—I didn't mean to." Hands gathered her up. She blinked up at a man she'd never seen before. "I didn't mean to reflect it, it's, my magic, I can't control it."

"Daddy, what did you do? Why did you do that?" a boy asked.

Muninn felt herself get handed off. A woman all in white frowned over her, concerned. "What did you do, Halvor?"

"We have to split them up. Thought and memory—reality is anything they want it to be, Eira. They can change anything. Everything we experienced—how do we know any of it is real? Any of this?"

"Dad! Where are you taking me?"

"Halvor!"

"I have to go. We have to separate them. They don't know any better. Who knows how much they've already changed? How many memories we don't know we've lost?"

"Why? What did you do to Muninn?" She stood, holding Muninn close to her. "What about your students? What about me?"

Muninn blinked. Everything was so strange. She'd rather just sleep.

"I have to go. I love you." Halvor grabbed Huginn's arm and yanked him away.

"Daddy, stop!" Huginn shouted. He dug in his heels and reached out toward her.

She stared. Who?

Huginn flinched back, as if burned. In the moment's opening, Halvor dragged him out.

The door slammed. They were alone in the dark house.

"Wake up," Huginn said.

She shook her head. She didn't want to.

"Muninn, c'mon."

Cold wind ruffled her coat. It slid under her collar and down her spine, leaving half her back shivering and the other half uncomfortable. Muninn frowned. Resisting the wind, she furrowed her brows, but it slid deeper under her coat. Waking was unavoidable. She blinked, squinted against the light, blinked again.

The scene that met her was both familiar and unfamiliar. Dense, purplish stratus clouds that lurked high overhead and blanketed the sky until the sun was only a faint glow. A fluffy cumulus cloud fuzzed into focus as Huginn. He smiled slightly at the sight of her open eyes and sat back. Slowly, Muninn sat up. Her shoulder ached, but if she held it to her chest, it wasn't so bad. A bowl had been woven from sticks and reeds around her, an oddly comfortable bowl that cradled her from beneath.

Lazy, Muninn yawned. She started to stretch, but froze halfway when arm caught. The joint ground to a halt. Her muscles complained loudly, shooting pain all the way down her spine. She grimaced and lowered her arm. Ow.

"My shoulder," she muttered.

"Don't worry, I saved the arm," Huginn replied. He poked her in the forehead. "You're lucky I had some alcohol on hand. You had a nasty fever for a few days, but it broke yesterday. I was just starting to wonder if you were ever going to wake up, lazybones. How do you feel?"

Muninn caught his hand. Her dreams hadn't faded yet. She still remembered. "Huginn."

"Muninn."

"You're my brother, aren't you?"

Silence. He bit his lip, then sighed. His head dropped. For a second, his hair obscured his face.

"Yeah," he said at last. "We're twins. You remembered?"

Twins. Muninn stared. It made sense. They were the same age. She realized he'd asked a question, suddenly, and shook her head. "Yeah. Well, kind of. I saw..." She tapped the side of her head. "I saw your dad—our dad—wipe my memories."

"That was..." Huginn winced. He rubbed the back of his neck, then met her eyes. His were startlingly blue, blue as a clear sky. "The two of us... remember the grim? How we made it run away with the... the illusion? The false reality?"

She nodded.

"When we're together, we get stronger. Instead of just seeing thoughts and memories, we can share them, too. If you remember a memory and change it a little in your mind, I can send it back as a thought, and just like that, we can replace someone's memories. Change their whole reality."

"But why did we need to be apart?"

Huginn's eyes remained steady. "We were children. We had no idea what we should or shouldn't do. We changed mom's memories once—as far as Dad knows. Who knows how many times we could have messed with their heads? What if we got mad? Lashed out? I hated it at first, but... Dad was right to separate us. It was too much power for a couple of kids."

Muninn frowned. "But... why don't I remember?"

Huginn grimaced. "Dad... he could reflect magic. He could send anything you did to him back twice as strong. You tried to change his memories, and he ended up wiping your mind."

They sat in silence. Muninn frowned at the floor. Why would he do that? If he knew it would wipe my mind, why raise his hand?

"It was a reflex," Huginn muttered. "He didn't mean to."

She glanced at him, then rubbed her forehead. It was a lot to take in. She'd just found out she had a brother, a twin, her father had wiped her memories and gone mad... This is too much. Where did she start? What did she even ask?

There was silence. Huginn wouldn't meet her eyes. Muninn didn't try to meet his.