“Maggie!” Iduna was shouting, but she sounded so far away. Maggie could still feel Laika’s slobbery tongue on her cheek.

  A sinewy, dark-scaled limb with six-inch claws slashed downward from the roof. One of the sharp points made contact with the sleeve of Maggie’s sweatshirt, but she felt no pain. Instead, black smoke rose from the tip of the claw, and the creature shrieked in fury and pain as it yanked its limb back.

  “Exit the vehicle! Immediately!” came Geirrod’s rough voice. Maggie shook herself awake as the Frost Giant pulled open the van’s sliding door and pushed Maggie and Iduna out onto the pavement ahead of him.

  “What’s happening?!” Maggie cried.

  Iduna grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her backward, away from the Vanagon. Maggie looked at the roof of the vehicle and nearly lost her footing when she saw the dark creature perched over the shredded metal. It was the size of a grown man and covered in dark scales that glinted in the midnight sun. It looked up at the sky and screeched, then cringed painfully and shielded its yellow eyes before slashing downward again at the Vanagon.

  “What is that thing?” Maggie screamed.

  Iduna kept dragging her back. “Køjer Devil,” she responded hoarsely in Maggie’s ear.

  Geirrod hovered in the camper’s doorway, watching their retreat. “Get back!” he shouted, over and over.

  The devil shifted its position to peer over the edge of the roof. Its thin lips parted into a wide, shark-toothed smile as it raised its clawed arm and took aim at the Frost Giant.

  “GEIRROD!” Maggie screamed.

  Geirrod looked up and met the devil’s strike face-first.

  19

  Heimdall stood shoulder to shoulder with Freya and Thrym. The sound of the devils’ claws on the escalator’s metal stairs echoed off the walls of the marketplace. The devils would be on them in seconds.

  Heimdall looked at the King of the Frost Giants. “Whatever happens . . .”

  Thrym gave him a curt nod. “We will negotiate terms later. For now, let us dispatch this band of griss fretr.”

  “Piglet farts.” Freya giggled. “Lovely.”

  The creatures’ wild shrieks announced the impending attack. Heimdall stepped forward and crouched low, an uncapped marker in each hand. He’d never before fought with basic art supplies as weapons; he was pretty sure none of the Old Ones had. Then again, no one in his long memory had done hand-to-hand combat with Køjer Devils, either.

  “Historic battle,” Heimdall whispered as the first lizard-shaped shadows loomed in the rooms beyond. Assuming anyone lives to tell the tale.

  Thrym and Freya spread out behind him and adopted similar stances, bracing for the fight.

  We need a new bard, Heimdall’s thoughts continued, unbidden. Without Bragi, there’s no one to record our history in epic poems or to sing of our exploits around winter fires.

  Heimdall shook his head sharply, trying to jolt himself into the present. The bruise on his head began to throb again, and he clenched his jaw. Even with the replenishment of the apples, this battle was going to take everything he had.

  The first two devils came flying through the air, launching themselves into the marketplace at Heimdall and the others. Heimdall managed to duck out of the way of the sharp claws that sliced close to his face, and he reached up with a red marker as the devil’s body soared over his head. It was too quick for him to draw an actual bindrune, but the long streak of magick ink rent a smoking gash in the creature’s midsection.

  The devil collapsed to the floor and howled in pain, while the second creature landed in front of Thrym. The Frost Giant threw a heavy box of decorative bath tiles at the creature’s head. The devil easily batted the box away, but the maneuver left the creature’s flank exposed and Thrym dove forward to mark its side with one of his pens.

  Freya walked up casually behind the devil Heimdall had injured and drew on the back of its neck with her own pen. Both Køjer Devils froze in place for an instant, then exploded outward in a thick cloud of black smoke and soot.

  Heimdall coughed and waved the smoke out his face. “What do you think of our Rune Witch now?” he called to Thrym.

  The rest of the Køjer Devils were on them before Thrym could respond.

  “Nets down!” Heimdall heard Freya shout from somewhere behind him as one of the devils tackled him to the floor. The creature slashed at Heimdall’s throat and chest. He felt the sharp claws scraping against his skin, unable to pierce his enchanted flesh. The devil shrieked in frustration and pain as its claws caught fire where they’d made contact with his skin.

  Score another point for Sally Dahl, Heimdall thought as he plunged the point of a magick marker into the devil’s eye.

  “Nets one and two down!” Saga shouted from the far side of the room. Heimdall looked quickly over his shoulder to see layers of mosquito netting falling into place along the room’s walls and over the entrance to the Home Organization section.

  “Get behind them!” Heimdall shouted in response, knowing that his sister was probably already out of earshot.

  The devils screamed as they collided with the netting, and Heimdall’s nostrils burned with the scent of scorched lizard as the combined magick that Sally, Iduna, and Freya had woven into the nets went to work.

  He retreated toward the center of the room and stepped inside the blue circle Freya had drawn on the floor. Thrym and Freya followed soon after. The Køjer Devils swarmed around them.

  “Is this all of them?” Thrym asked as the devils’ shadows fell over them.

  “Saga?!” Heimdall called out. He held his breath, straining to hear his sister’s response over the din of the devils’ shrill cackling.

  “Perhaps she has fallen,” Thyrm said.

  “Quiet!” Heimdall hissed.

  There was a high-pitched shriek from the direction of Textiles & Rugs, followed by a loud thud and what Heimdall guessed was the sound of a Køjer Devil getting smoked by some of Sally’s magick ink.

  “All in!” Saga shouted. The last nets fell into place, blocking the remaining exit out of the Bath section. “All nets down!”

  “Do it,” Heimdall commanded. Freya already had the knife out and she sliced quickly into the pad of her thumb. Crouching down, she touched her wound to the blue ink on the floor and a brilliant spark raced clockwise around the circle.

  Heimdall, Freya, and Thrym stood back to back inside the circle, facing the restless devils as they hissed and spat and formed a thick ring around the trio in the center.

  Trapped in close quarters by enchanted nets that burned their flesh, the six-foot-tall lizards grew even more agitated and irate.

  “Yeah, okay,” Heimdall said casually to the surrounding devils as they snapped their jaws at him. “So now we’re all that stands between you and that oil you’re so desperate for. Makes you mad, doesn’t it?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Freya. “How long will the circle hold?”

  “Long enough to keep these guys from setting the whole world on fire,” she said. “I hope.”

  Maggie screamed as Geirrod fell from the Vanagon. He collapsed onto the black pavement and clutched at his torn throat. A torrent of blood soaked his clothing and pooled around his body on the ground.

  Iduna held Maggie firmly in place as they watched the Køjer Devil raise its clawed fists to the sky and cackle in victory.

  “Quiet now,” Iduna whispered into Maggie’s ear. “There’s nothing we can do for him.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “But there is still something we can do for each other.”

  “He’s going to kill us!” Maggie squeaked, her eyes wide as the Køjer Devil tore off more of the Vanagon’s roof, seemingly for fun. Iduna held her tighter, and Maggie felt a strange tingling sensation rising up from the base of her spine.

  The Køjer Devil leapt down to the pavement and eyed Maggie and Iduna. It clicked its claws together in violent anticipation as its scaly face split into a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

  “Quiet now,” Iduna said again. Her soft voice was the perfect counter to the devil’s high-pitched shrieking, and Maggie felt her body relax even as the creature crept toward them.

  “I call on the Nine Realms to bear witness,” Iduna said quietly, still holding Maggie tight as they faced the approaching devil. “By the powers of Ásgard, Midgard, and Vanaheim. Of Svartálfaheim, Jötunheim, and Álfheim. Of Nidavellir, Niflheim, and Muspellheim. I pass the blessings of my forebears to my successor.”

  Maggie’s nervous system exploded in pain. Her entire field of vision flashed a blinding white, and she had the unmistakable sensation of fire racing up her legs while her spinal column felt like it was being shattered by a long string of firecrackers.

  Gasping in agony, Maggie fell forward out of Iduna’s embrace. She caught herself on her hands on the asphalt and blinked furiously, trying to get her vision back. She could hear the shrill cries of the Køjer Devil and knew that it loomed over her. It would be mere seconds before she felt its hot breath on her neck and its razor claws slicing into her gut. At least, that’s what she imagined it would be like, even with Sally’s protective sigils.

  “Iduna!” Still blind, Maggie reached out for where she estimated the goddess to be. But her hands grasped at air.

  “Iduna!” Maggie cried again. The vibrating pain that had wracked her body faded to a numbing buzz. Her vision was starting to come back, and she crawled toward what she guessed were the lower folds of Iduna’s gown.

  “Be strong, Maggie!” Iduna called out. “They’ll need you now.”

  Singing out an ancient battle cry, Iduna moved quickly out of Maggie’s sight. The sound of the devil’s angry scream filled Maggie’s ears. Blinking hard to clear her vision, Maggie climbed to her feet and froze.

  Iduna cried out again as she plunged one of Sally’s magick pens deep into the devil’s chest. The creature howled as it simultaneously slit Iduna open from throat to gut.

  “NO!” Maggie screamed. “Oh, no, no, no!”

  She stopped herself from rushing to Iduna’s aid, in case the creature might still be alive. But Iduna and the devil sank together to the ground. The creature exploded in a cloud of black ash, and Iduna’s body lay on the pavement, her eyes staring lifelessly up at the sunny night sky.

  “Iduna!” Maggie cried, her voice strangled by tears. She lowered herself to the pavement and sobbed.

  “Son of a tik!”

  Maggie turned to find Freyr running toward her.

  “Maggie!" he shouted. "Are you all right?”

  Maggie gestured toward Iduna’s body. “She saved my life.” She looked at Geirrod’s still form lying in a wide puddle of blood. “They both did.”

  Freyr helped Maggie to her feet and held her tightly. Maggie felt suddenly very tired. She couldn’t help sobbing into Freyr’s shoulder and was afraid she might fall asleep standing up.

  “It’s okay now,” he said.

  “Iduna said something before,” Maggie sniffed through exhausted tears. “Before she died.”

  Freyr abruptly jerked away from her and landed on the ground at her feet.

  “Freyr?” Maggie looked up and found herself face-to-face with another Køjer Devil. With one clawed hand skewering Freyr’s shoulder, the creature opened its wide mouth and bared its pointed teeth at Maggie with an ear-splitting cackle.

  Sally was halfway down the fire escape ladder when she spotted a second stray devil spear Freyr in the back.

  Her heart leapt to her throat, and she jumped the last few feet to the next suspended platform.

  “Sally!” Loki shouted from above. He’d started down the ladder a few beats behind her and accelerated his descent. “Sally! You can’t go down there! Stay where you are!”

  Sally gripped the metal railing and watched. There was no way she could make it to Freyr in time.

  “Okay, then, little witch,” Sally muttered. “Let’s see what you can do.”

  She let go of the railing and closed her eyes. She ignored the clanging of Loki’s boots on the ladder’s rungs and focused in on her own breathing. She wouldn’t be any use to anybody if she couldn’t quiet her pounding heart.

  She saw the Køjer Devil in her mind’s eye. She imagined every part of its form from its black-taloned toes to its dark, scaly head.

  “There you are,” Sally whispered. She felt Loki arrive on the metal landing behind her and hoped he’d have enough sense to leave her alone.

  Of course he’ll stay back, her busy brain interrupted. He’s an immortal and knows more about magick than I ever will.

  With a low groan, Sally shut down thoughts of anything but the Køjer Devil. She envisioned the creature standing on the black asphalt. In keen lines of flame, Sally drew a stacked spiral of Algiz in a hastily modified Helm of Awe sigil over the image, and she threw in an extra Kenaz and Hagalaz for good measure. She held the symbol in her vision, letting the lines of flame lick at the Køjer Devil in its crosshairs. Then, on a sharp exhale, Sally let the symbol fly on a direct course to its target.

  Opening her eyes, Sally hung onto the image of the burning sigil as it flew toward the Køjer Devil. The creature had Freyr in its grasp, having driven the nature god to his knees.

  Keeping her breath steady, Sally lifted her right arm and pointed her index finger at the devil like a gun. She’d never pulled the trigger of a real firearm and had certainly never been behind the scope of a sniper’s rifle, but she had to rely on her own aim anyway. She cocked her Uruz-branded thumb, lined up her pointing finger on the creature, and then clicked her thumb forward.

  “Bang,” Sally said in a low voice.

  In the distance, she saw the Køjer Devil throw its clawed hands into the air in sudden pain. Then the creature disintegrated in a cloud of black smoke.

  Sally almost laughed as she leaned forward and grasped the railing for support. She’d never consciously killed before. She had dealt a mortal blow to Managarm, but she’d shared that honor with Freya—and ultimately Odin had been the one to finish off the Moon Dog. But now she’d done it, all on her own. Sally had committed murder.

  Gold-colored spots swam before her eyes and she slumped forward, suddenly dizzy. Loki grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away from the railing. He rested her against the outside wall of the warehouse while she tried to catch her breath.

  “Nice shootin’, I believe the saying goes,” Loki said.

  Maggie gaped at the dark stain on the pavement that moments before had been a Køjer Devil ready to bite her face open.

  “What, what happened?” she stammered.

  Freyr clutched his shoulder where the devil had stabbed him. Blood spurted out between his fingers. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and looked up at Maggie.

  “Could be worse.” He grimaced.

  Maggie knelt beside him and pried his fingers away from the wound. “You could be dead.”

  “Exactly my point.” Freyr groaned as Maggie prodded his torn flesh. He sucked in his breath sharply when her finger slipped into the deep puncture. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Apples,” Maggie said. In a fit of inspiration, she jumped to her feet and started for the Vanagon. She slowed when she reached Geirrod’s body. Willing herself not to look at his mutilated face, she stepped over the body and climbed into the van. Dodging the jagged metal hanging down from the mangled ceiling, she grabbed a sack of apples and lugged it back to Freyr.

  “Here.” Maggie pulled out a piece of fruit and offered to him. “Can you take it, or do you need me to hold it for you?”

  Grunting in pain every inch of the way, Freyr pushed himself up to sitting. He tried to wave the apple away. “Those are for the survivors.”

  “Uh-huh. And that would be you, my friend.” Maggie pushed the fruit in his face.

  Freyr took the apple from her. He bit into it and sighed in relief as the magick of the grove began to do its work. “Okay. So not a bad idea.”

  Maggie moved around behind him to get a better look at his shoulder. She tore his shirt off his back to expose the wound.

  “You know, I think your boyfriend may have something to say about this,” Freyr chuckled around bites of apple.

  “Quiet,” Maggie said with an air of authority that surprised her. The lack of sleep was finally getting to her. Or maybe it was the apples she’d had earlier. Either way, she was done feeling like an unworthy outsider where Heimdall and his kin were concerned.

  “Besides, you’re one to talk.” Maggie pressed her hands against Freyr’s skin on either side of the wound and watched the bleeding trickle to a halt. “The way you’ve been leading Sally on.”

  “I’ve done no such thing.” He nibbled at the last bits of fruit around the core. “Besides, I think I took care of that.”

  Maggie waited for him to continue.

  “I, uh, I deliberately insulted her.” Freyr pitched the apple core across the parking lot and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Probably the worst thing I could have said.”

  Maggie sighed. “Well, that’s one way to go about it.”

  Freyr shrugged away from Maggie and tested his shoulder, stretching his arms out wide and then reaching over his head.

  “Those apples are pretty amazing.” She nodded toward his closed puncture wounds. “I didn’t know it would heal up so fast.”

  Freyr massaged his shoulder. “It shouldn’t have.” He climbed to his feet and looked down at Iduna’s body. “Maggie? You said Iduna said something to you before she died?”

  A series of high-pitched shrieks came from inside the IKEA building. Every muscle in Maggie’s body tensed.

  “Listen,” she turned to Freyr. “I don’t know what the protocol is for handling the bodies of fallen warriors on the battlefield. And this parking lot is kind of a battlefield right now, I guess.”

  “Well, for human warriors we’d have the Valkyries, but for these two—”

  “I’ll leave you to it.” Maggie stepped toward Freyr and pulled the colored markers out of his pocket. Then she turned and ran toward the warehouse.

  “Maggie!” Freyr shouted after her. “Maggie, wait!”