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  "I'm fine, but if Heid's afraid of a few rowans, she's in for a big surprise. She doesn't know what trouble is!" Diana glared at the snapped-off spruce branches that led toward the cliffs. Blast it! She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Heid and her oafs should have stayed in Giantland, where they belong."

  Inga's eyes went wide. "What are you going to do?"

  "Protect the village."

  When the women reached the log fence that circled the longhouses, the gate opened and Tyr and Jorunda, with Gudrun on his arm, stepped out to join them. Freya, her voice brittle as ice, explained what they'd found.

  Tyr shook his head, too stunned to speak.

  Gudrun looked at Diana's basket, and the old seer grinned. "Clever witch. You're using Heid's arrogance against her."

  "Your dark witch made a big mistake." Diana set the basket on the ground. "Each person take a twig or a clump of leaves. Plant them. When we're done, we'll join hands and make magic of our own. We'll need twelve of you for that. I'll make thirteen."

  "A coven?" Tyr asked.

  "If you trust me."

  "With our lives." He gave her a long look.

  The familiar heat crept into her cheeks. She needed to busy herself. "Space them around the wall," she said. "And if there are any seeds left from last year, sprinkle them."

  The sun beat down on them. Sweat trickled between Diana’s breasts and down her spine. Her fingernails were filthy. The dirt here was hard and packed. Gravel and stones littered it. Her knees were bloodied from kneeling over the tiny shoots and carefully placing them. By the time they finished, she could barely straighten to her full height.

  Seedlings surrounded the entire fence. Diana motioned the others to her. They didn’t look any better than she did. Only Gudrun had remained in the shade of the log fence to watch. Diana counted—Freya, Inga, Tyr, Jorunda, and Gudrun. Where could she find seven more? The gates opened and a muscular, stunted man stepped toward them, along with a tall, plain woman, a teenaged boy, and four children of various ages. The man bowed slightly. "Gudrun's told us of you. We welcome you, goddess. I'm Olaf and this is my wife and our children, except for him." He gestured toward the teenaged boy. "Brandr's my apprentice."

  When Diana returned his bow, the dwarf staggered in surprise. She said, "I thank you, blacksmith, for your support and hard work."

  "Will this magic save our village?"

  "Not on its own, but it will help. All you have to do is believe in me." She cast a circle and they joined hands. Breezes sprang up and clouds whipped overhead. The earth tremored beneath their feet, ready to respond to anything she asked of it. Magic buzzed in the air. Diana planted her feet and let the energy flow to her. As her chant began, the clouds darkened.

  Inga gripped Diana's hand so tightly, it was painful. Diana raised her voice and droplets fell from the sky—blood red. Diana focused on them, willing life into each one. The drops formed into berries before they hit the dirt—small, red berries with pentagrams on their ends. Rowans. Not strong enough to become trees, but useful just the same. When they splatted, new shoots sprang up. Then the droplets stopped, and rain fell, warm and steady. The ravens' twigs and the leaf clusters they'd planted pushed toward the sky—strong and tall. The big trees rimmed the wooden fence. No black magic could pass them. The smaller sprouts stretched and thrived, but instead of shooting skyward, they grew sideways, forming a thick, heavy hedge. As Diana's words died, the rain grew gentle, then ceased. The winds blew themselves out. Inga's grip lessened, and finally, the rain stopped. Everything felt fresh and pure.

  Gudrun cackled with joy. "Bravo, goddess!"

  Diana blinked, bringing herself back to the present, her energy depleted. She reached out a hand to steady herself and Tyr rested it on his left arm. "Be kind to yourself, woman. You've given us much."

  He was always grateful. Diana had never seen that in a god. She considered herself lucky when mere mortals noticed her blessings.

  Inga's fingers shook as she gently brushed the leaves of the hedge that circled the fields. "This is too wonderful to imagine."

  The village's gate opened and Griswold strode toward them, a young warrior at his side. He looked at the tall rowan trees near the fence and the hedge in front of his crops. "I heard the rumors. Giants destroyed the groves in the forest. They can destroy these too. What other magic do you have, witch?"

  Tyr's body grew rigid, his expression dark. "Know your place, chieftain! She's a goddess, not a witch to do your bidding. Show respect, or I'll teach you some."

  "We thank you, Roman." The chieftain refused to call her goddess. His thanks were forced, at best. She'd heard her share of empty prayers and flattery. Griswold's was no different. "I'm only thinking about the people in my care," he stated. "I'm concerned about their safety."

  Gudrun laughed. "Our chieftain is always conscious of his duty."

  Griswold snarled, but didn't dare insult the seer. Instead, he forced a smile. "We have strong magic to protect our village now. We have nothing to defeat giants or hellhounds. I fear we won't be able to defend ourselves against them."

  Freya held up a wolfbane plant. "Your guards can hang these from your fence. Hellhounds won't pass them."

  "Is this true?" The chieftain turned to Gudrun for an answer.

  The old seer nodded.

  "And for giants?"

  "You have me." Tyr glowered. "Donar will come, too, when I call."

  Griswold made little effort to hide his discontent. He wanted miracles, she could tell, but he knew better than to push too hard. "Your presence is more than we could hope for. I thank you, my lord."

  Tyr's lips pressed into a thin line. With a growl, he turned to Diana. "You've done more than we expected…again. Thank you."

  "No one destroys a rowan tree in Greece." Diana curled her fingers into balls. She dug her nails into her palms.

  Tyr watched her clench and unclench her fists. An odd expression settled on his face, and he smiled.

  She narrowed her eyes. He looked like a man about to get in trouble.

  "You're still upset. Your eyes are blazing, your cheeks are pink." He winked. "You look especially lovely."

  "What?" She felt heat surge to her face. How could he? Everyone was listening! Was he trying to embarrass her?

  Tyr grinned. "Thank the gods the runes sent you!"

  She raised a brow, angrier than before, when Gudrun chimed in. "I'm glad I lived to see you. You're more than I hoped for."

  Diana shifted from one foot to the other. She didn't enjoy public praise. That was for her fellow gods and goddesses. "Enough!" she said. "We need to work as a team. We each have our strengths. It's time I teach Inga how to plug into hers."

  "A Roman with no ego. Who knew?" Tyr's eyes lingered on her. Would he knock it off? This was no time to flirt.

  "A Norse who's more than swords and ale," she retorted. "A miracle!"

  Tyr's grin widened, but Inga shook her head. "I don't feel any magic. I'm not sure I have any."

  "Gudrun's runes said I should teach you," Diana insisted. "You must."

  Gudrun squirmed. She dropped her eyes. Diana frowned, about to question her when Tyr said, "We'd better get cracking. Time's a wasting."

  Diana's jaw dropped. "Where did you hear that?"

  "We Norse aren't as backward as you suppose us to be."

  "Or as backward as you pretend. Do you go to modern times?"

  He laughed. "I hit nightclubs once in a while in Oslo. Noisier than battle, and just as scary."

  She shook her head. Tyr had a way of keeping her off-balance. "We'd better go. The rowan will protect the village from black magic. You have to figure out how to protect them from giants."

  "Yes, ma'am." He saluted with his handless arm.

  Griswold grimaced and turned on his heel. He and the young warrior stalked back to the village. Tyr looked immensely pleased with himself. Had he flirted just to annoy the chieftain? A whisper of disappointment flitted through Diana.

  She t
urned to leave too. "Goodbye, Gudrun," she muttered.

  "Take care, goddess." The seer's voice hinted of satisfaction, and Diana, once again, suspected the old woman knew more than she was telling.

  Chapter 9

  Diana ran her fingers through her hair. Six days of constant training. Six, long, hard days—with no visible results. Today was no different. "Dear Zeus, give me patience!"

  Noir padded to Inga and sat at her feet. He glared at Diana.

  "What are you mad about?" Gods, her cat could be annoying.

  The beast turned his head, snubbing her. He'd been in a foul mood ever since he got here.

  "No fair." Diana had tried one lesson after another. "What more can I do?" Without the rowan groves to free the girl’s magic, Diana had started Inga’s training with the basics. They'd worked spells. Inga wrote them on parchment, then couldn't repeat them correctly. They’d memorized chants. Inga forgot them. Frustrated, Diana went to pour herself a glass of wine.

  "Are we finished for the day?" Inga asked hopefully.

  "It's still early. But let's take a break."

  Inga disappeared inside the house. Noir remained where he was, staring at Diana with unblinking eyes.

  Freya glanced at Diana with sympathy. "Is she making any progress?"

  "It's slow." Nonexistent was more like it, but that couldn't be possible. Diana searched her mind for a different approach. She looked at Noir. "Maybe we should tap into her energy first."

  The cat's gaze didn't waver.

  "Damned fur ball." Diana spent the afternoon showing Inga how to pull energy from the earth. "Feel the power flow through you," Diana coaxed.

  Nothing.

  Noir jumped on a marble bench and yawned, clearly unimpressed.

  "Let's try a tree." Diana placed her palm against an oak's trunk and let the energy flow out the fingertips of her other hand.

  Inga tried. Nothing.

  "Maybe if we found you a familiar," Diana said.

  Noir raised his head and hissed.

  Irritated, Diana challenged. "I suppose you could do better!"

  The cat closed his eyes.

  Freya looked worried. "Have you had trouble training a new witch before?"

  "No." She'd trained many. Some learned faster than others, but all of them learned.

  Freya turned to Inga. "Remind me. What exactly did Gudrun tell you?"

  Inga slumped onto Noir's bench, looking defeated. She scratched the cat behind his ears. He didn't like to be touched without permission. Diana waited for him to turn his head to bite her. He purred. Obnoxious beast!

  "Inga?" Freya asked again.

  "Sorry." She let out a sigh. "That I was destined to be shunned, and that I should wait in the hut to serve the new goddess and learn from her."

  "Learn what?" Diana had assumed magic, but as far as she could tell, the girl had no affinity for spells. She poured herself more wine and sank onto the bench opposite Inga's.

  Freya joined them. "Are you beginning to think what I am?"

  "That Gudrun had another reason for sending us Inga?" Diana remembered how the old seer had squirmed when Diana talked about teaching the girl magic, but Gudrun had never corrected her. Why? Time was precious. It's possible they'd just wasted an entire week.

  Diana frowned at Noir. "You're a familiar. Does Inga have magic?"

  The cat leapt to the ground and came to wind himself between her ankles.

  "Oh, crap! That's a no, isn't it?" Familiars could read a witch's energy. That's what Noir had been trying to tell her. Inga didn't have any.

  "What other purpose could there be?" Freya turned to study their apprentice.

  "Beats me. I don't know what else I'd teach her," Diana said. "But Gudrun knows more than she's telling. Inga's important to this battle. We just don't know how."

  Inga seemed to shrink in on herself, deflated. Voice small, she asked, "I'm not a witch?"

  "No. I'm sorry."

  "It's not that I don't try."

  "You gave it your all.” Diana laid a hand on Inga's slim one. She could hear the disappointment in the girl's voice.

  Inga blinked back tears. "It's stupid, I know, but I was hoping I was special, that I have a gift no one else in our village has." She pushed back a long strand of dark hair, revealing her swirling, blue tattoo.

  "You are special—" Diana racked her brain for something to say that would make Inga feel better, "—or Gudrun wouldn't have sent you to me."

  "How many people could live out here, all alone, and still be as resilient and positive as you are?" Freya demanded. "That alone should make you proud."

  Inga rubbed a hand across her eyes, unimpressed. "What choice did I have?"

  "That's not the point." Diana pushed herself to her feet. "Most people would give up or feel sorry for themselves. You never did." She would have said more, but Noir jumped to a bench, arched his back, and yowled. Diana froze. She knew what that meant. "Trouble's coming."

  The women went silent, listening, darting nervous glances around the clearing. Then they heard it. Trees crashed in the distance.

  "Giants!" Freya cried.

  "The rowans!" Diana reached for her bow and quiver.

  "Jorunda and Tyr!" Inga put a hand to her heart. "It's been a week. They'll come with food and news. The giants will see them."

  Diana dashed toward the path that led to the village, Freya and Inga close behind her. The giants were traveling in the same direction. Thankfully, the forest slowed them down enough that the women could keep pace.

  Diana burst from the tree line, breathless, just as two, hulking monsters crashed into the meadow a short distance away. They spotted Tyr and Jorunda and stalked toward them. Mutant hellhounds ran on the giants' heels. The beasts howled when they sniffed prey.

  Inga gasped and gripped Freya's arm. "We have to help them."

  "Stay behind me." Diana dropped to one knee and reached for her arrows.

  Tyr shifted his shield to his right arm, strapping it on securely. He hefted his sword in his left hand—his only hand, Diana worried, but neither giant came for him. Both ran for Jorunda. As Tyr raced to block the bigger of the two, he stretched to his full size.

  "Did you see that?" Inga cried. "How did he do that?"

  "He's a god, for Zeus' sake!" Worry wormed through Diana. The ugly monster stood as high as a Cyclops and appeared just as foul tempered, but the two men seemed well matched in size and strength.

  "Tyr will deal with him," Freya said. "We have to help Jorunda."

  "Are you going to grow too?" Inga sobbed.

  Diana wanted to, but Jorunda was between her and the second giant. She was worried he'd get squashed or burned if she and her arrows grew to full size.

  The big giant lunged at Tyr. The god slashed a long, red streak across his forearm. Blood oozed from the wound. The giant slammed a fist at him, but Tyr easily sidestepped it.

  The second giant reached for Jorunda. Diana let loose a volley of arrows. They found their marks and sank deep into the brute's thick flesh, but they were too small to do serious damage. Should she shift? No time. The hellhounds sprang forward. Diana let go her bow string again. The hounds dropped to the ground, shafts buried deep in their chests.

  Ugly number one—the big brute—swiped at Tyr, trying to knock him out of the way. Tyr drew his sword across the giant's knuckles. The monster whipped its hand to its mouth to suck on the bleeding flesh.

  Ugly Two used the distraction of the hellhounds to corner Jorunda between his open hands.

  "Grow!" Inga screamed. "Shoot the foul thing!"

  "My arrows would grow too. They'd torch Jorunda." Better to stay small. Jorunda stabbed his blade into the thick cushion beneath the giant's left thumb. Ugly Two roared and scooped the warrior off the ground in its right fist.

  "No!" Inga set off at a run. She threw herself around the giant's leg and sank her teeth into its flesh. The giant tried to shake her off, but she held tight. Diana tossed her an arrow—forged by Vulcan—and Inga
jammed it in and out of the giant's calf. The monster bellowed in pain.

  Diana grabbed hold of its foot and shot energy into it. Sparks flew upward. The giant's hair stood on end. It kicked, and she landed in the grass. Had she tried the wrong tactics? Could she change now?

  Freya held her cat necklace high and aimed its light at the giant's eyes. She, too, stayed small, and Diana realized the goddess had no weapon. Like her, Freya could accomplish more in human form. The giant rubbed its free hand across its face, trying to see, then simply turned its head. "Give me an arrow!" Freya called. Diana tossed her one, and she started up the giant's other leg.

  Tyr's sword clashed against the metal band that circled his opponent's wrist, and Diana turned, worried. "I'm fine. Help Jorunda!"

  Ugly two opened its jaws wide. Its intentions were clear. It meant to bite off Jorunda's head. If Diana shifted, she wouldn't get to him fast enough. Instead, she scrambled into position.

  Inga was climbing the giant's leg now, using her arrow like a pickax, burying the tip into the brute's thick skin. Each time the monster tried to brush Inga away, Freya jabbed her arrow deep into its other thigh to distract him. It slapped a hand at them. Inga scurried out of the way. Freya tried to leap for a finger, to ride it up, closer to the monster's head, but it shook her off.

  "Enough!" Freya shifted into a huge bird and sailed above the thing, dive bombing it and digging sharp talons into its shoulders, but the giant ignored her.

  Jorunda struggled and stabbed, but Ugly Two paid no heed. He spread his lips wider, ready to fit the warrior inside. Diana let loose three arrows. They flew through the monster's gaping mouth. The first exited the back of its skull, burning a hole on its way out. The second slanted upward, slicing through the brute's brain and zooming out the top of its head. The giant snapped its mouth shut to swallow the third. Not a smart move. Smoke curled from the monster's nostrils. A whooshing noise rushed down its throat. Its chest heaved.

  Ugly Two staggered.

  Diana called, "Get off him, Inga!"

  The girl leapt to the ground and raced for her life.

  "Crouch in its hand!" Diana yelled to Jorunda.

  The warrior curled between the giant's bent fingers. When Ugly Two's knees buckled, Diana called for winds to cushion Jorunda's fall. The monster's body hit the ground with a deafening crash. Diana ran to the hand that held Jorunda. The fingers went limp, and she and Inga pushed them away. Jorunda huddled inside, bruised and sore, but unhurt.