Dinner was surprisingly less chaotic than expected. The girls—plus Austin—went along swimmingly.

  It was just a nice dinner. And no one argued about who was gay, asexual, or throwing knives at each other.

  Maya washed the dishes, even though the Draugr could do it ter. She needed something to occupy her mind. The feeling of runny soap, wet hands, and the undeniable urge to constantly dry off your hands.

  She gnced back now and then, finding Austin and Fey in deep conversation about recent superhero movies with Val nodding off with a cup of tea.

  Austin’s presence was an unscheduled surprise, but a pleasant one to keep conversations going or smoothen over the mood.

  While Maya appreciated Val’s presence at all times, she knew Val wasn’t the very social type—or very interactive or friendly with Fey.

  Maybe this is the first step to bridge things, she thought, gncing back at Austin and Fey still talking peacefully. So many awkward fels. A witch, a giant, and a Valkyrie. What comes next? An evil god? A berserker? Sounds like a cheap bar joke.

  Maya huffed a ugh at the idea. She thought of how much different her life has been tely, and how much different it might become. Maybe even crazier than she would ever expect.

  Her hands stilled when someone tapped her shoulder.

  “Mind if we talk?” Fey asked. “In private.”

  Maya dried her hands and followed Fey into her room. Missy was curled up on a soft red bnket near the multitude of pillows Fey owned.

  Fey sat down, her back straight as always but shoulders low. “I want to thank you,” she said. “I know why you did all this… and I want to say that I appreciate your efforts, Maya, truly. It must have been hard with how I’ve been tely.”

  Maya shrugged, cing her hands in front of her. “I managed. All that matters is that you’re alright.”

  Fey sighed, looking at Missy. She patted her soft fur. “I’m managing… But I want to thank you with some magic.”

  “Nope, no,” Maya put her hands in front of her, shaking them wildly as she took a step back. “No more magic. I don’t think I’m cut for it. We’ve seen how that ends.”

  Fey nodded gravely. “I pushed on you things I shouldn’t have. You have a gift. You can see through the fabric between the real world and the mythological. If you had nurtured your talents early on, you’d have made an exceptional witch. We would have been sisters.”

  Fey stood with difficulty. Her leg trembled. She tried to bance but fell back to her bed, startling Missy. Maya helped her up, steadying her.

  “You’re likely too old to learn witchcraft,” Fey said with a bitter trace in her voice. “But… there still one st way how I can do—”

  “Fey… no. I am not a—”

  “Just hear me out.” Fey pced a finger on Maya’s lips, shushing her. “This isn’t dangerous, I promise. I made the mistake of teaching you offensive magic without considering alternatives.”

  Maya inclined her head. “What’s the alternative?”

  “Remember what I told you about my family?”

  “The fact you are one quarter goddess?” Maya ughed. “What’s up with that again?”

  Fey waved her hand. “My grandma hooked up with a god in her youth.”

  “Heh, what a queen.”

  “Don’t.” Fey groaned at the comment. “My Mormor is an exceptional witch. My Mamma inherited her father’s golden hair, increased magic powers, and other positive aspects. But she also has a very unstable mood.”

  “Always wondered where you got that from.”

  “Har har, moving on…” She dismissed it with a wave and put her hand on her colr. “Do you know what else she inherited?”

  Maya shook her head.

  Fey’s hand began to glow with a gentle green light. She pulled down her shirt colr and brushed two fingers over her colrbone.

  Maya blushed, but it faded when a glowing rune shimmered into view. A rune with one vertical line and two diagonal ones branching out to the right.

  It was Fehu ?, Maya realised. It represented abundance, luck, wealth and success, but in reverse it meant loss and struggle.

  The god it stood for was—

  “Freyr,” Fey continued. “My maternal grandfather, the Vanir God of Summer, Rain, Sunshine and Peace. He’s also linked to healing, and bringing mental and emotional healing.”

  “Fey… why are you showing me this?”

  Fey gave her a tied smile, looking absently to the ground. “The rune was pced on me at birth. It was supposed to protect me, keep me healthy, help me succeed.”

  She looked down, cackling with a broken voice. “My family prayed to him and Freyja for my recovery. Yet, not even gods could heal me. Ironic, isn’t it? Blessed so much at birth, but cursed with misery—”

  “Stop!” Maya shut her up, pressing her hands against Fey’s cheeks and drawing her face to Maya’s. “Didn’t you tell me runes are about intent and interpretation? They don’t abide by strict binary meanings. Maybe it’s not about what you’ve lost, but what you’re still meant to give.”

  Fey exhaled shakily. A tear traced down her face and onto Maya’s hand. She ced her long fingers around Maya’s. “You’re too good for someone like me.”

  Maya gritted her teeth. Fey’s eyes may be glowing with magic, but they were dim and dulled. As if she was stuck navigating a mist. She may pretend to be fine, but she was absolutely not.

  Dread filled Maya that she couldn’t do more.

  If only there was something I could do.

  Fey moved Maya’s hand to her mouth and bit into it pyfully, startling Maya. “You worry too much. I will get my help in due time, but for now, let me help you.” Fey grabbed a letter knife from her night drawer and pced it into Maya’s hands. “Attack me.”

  “Wha— why would I—”

  “Just do it.” Fey smiled meekly. “Trust me.”

  Maya tried to drop the knife, but Fey didn’t let her.

  “One small cut,” she said, offering her palm. “Trust me.”

  Still hesitating, Maya held the knife before Fey’s hand and pretended to draw a line. When Fey didn’t look convinced or intending to stop, Maya pricked Fey’s lightly.

  “Fehu.”

  The rune on Fey’s colrbone flicked to life. As if by external force, Maya lost all strength in her arm, and the knife dropped to the ground, cttering harmlessly and far away from them.

  Maya stared at the knife. A sense of peace overwhelmed her, and the sudden compulsion of never picking up a knife ever again.

  “It’s called inherent magic,” she expined, inspecting her palm. “Runes that are etched into our bodies through lineage, valour or potential. With my Farmor being the God of Peace and King of the Elves, my mother and I inherited the Fehu rune. It lets us enforce peace—create safety where no one harms the other. End violence before it begins.”

  Maya rubbed her arm, it still felt numb.

  “If it’s inherent, how can I use it then?” she asked. “Does everyone have a rune they have to unlock first?”

  Fey smiled impressed. “That would be too easy, but no. But I can carve it into you, like a tattoo. A one-time magic shield. A failsafe. It will keep you or your loved ones safe from harm.”

  Like me. Fey bit her lip at the bitter truth of her st thought. Her hands wrapped tightly around Maya’s, keeping it close to her chest. “Will you let me protect you?”

  ?. .ˋ?????ˊ. .?Fey’s guests lingered at the door—choosing to leave through the front rather than the balcony they had used.

  Maya turned back one st time. “You’ll be fine, right?”

  Fey exhaled slowly, doing her best to give her a confident expression. “I’ll manage, love, promise. Thanks for dinner. I definitely needed the breather.”

  “You’re welcome.” Maya smiled. “Though take it easy on the tobacco, okay?”

  Fey grimaced. “I’m not some kind of addict. I can quit whenever I—”

  “I know, I know. Geez, I mean, Fey, do take it easy, alright? We are just one call away from you. Whenever you need us, we’re there. Got it?”

  Fey inclined her head, resting it against the doorframe. She sighed, “Got it, ma’am.”

  “Great.” Maya beamed at her, cpping her hands together. “I’ll see you ter then.”

  “See you Maya, goodnight.” Fey closed the door, and leaned her forehead against the hardwood surface. Her head hurt. She sighed again, exhaling the stress she felt building up in her bones. “I need a smoke.”

  Retrieving the pack once more, she lit one in her mouth and inhaled the smoke. Though the jitters didn’t stop. The headache pulsed, and the ache in her leg bit deeper.

  “Not now.” She dug her nails into her thigh. “Anything but now.”

  Fey retreated to her workshop, attempting to drown the rising tide of anxiety in busywork for her clients. She lit incense. Burned sage. Smoked another cigarette. But none of the distractions worked.

  The sharp blend of herbs and tobacco only worsened the headache splitting her skull.

  Her good foot jittered uncontrolbly. Her bad leg throbbed. Fey bit her lip, chewed on her nails, then her thumb.

  Keep your head cool, girl. You can do better.

  Missy nuzzled against her arm, bringing Fey back to reality. She patted her ferret and picked her up in one arm, wobbling to the balcony to open the door.

  On the balcony, the night breeze kissed her face. Missy hopped up on the railing, tail twitching as the two took in the quiet. Fey lit another cigarette and blew the smoke into the wind. The breeze was just what she needed.

  Except for the blur of wings that breezed past Fey and into her room.

  Missy hissed, puffing up like a bottlebrush as a crow fluttered through the room before changing mid-air into a familiar, unwelcome dwarf.

  It wasn’t Almasi, the scammed dwarf, Fey realised. But someone wearing his shape.

  “Evening, Miss Witch,” the fake Almasi said, brushing down his suit like the real deal. “I take it we aren’t the sort of guests you enjoy?”

  Fey stared ftly, cigarette dropping from her mouth. She narrowed her eyes at the dwarf. “What do you want?” Her voice was ced with venom. Just like her glowing eyes “Who are you?”

  The dwarf shrugged, far too rexed. “Nobody. Just an old contact.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I have no contacts—”

  “The lost Valkyrie’s gear. Ring a bell?”

  Fey’s eyes widened, but her lips remained tight.

  Fake Almasi gnced at the mirror to adjust the tuft of hair on his head. “Really now, dwarves have lost their touch with fashion. Though I did hear one opened up a fashion shop in America recently—”

  “What are you doing here?” Fey’s tone sharped. Her foot clicked on the dropped smoke with green fmes igniting over her foot in dance. “I could kill you on sight,” she growled. Missy hissed supportively and chittered. “You are not a guest.”

  “I’ve rarely been a guest these days,” the dwarf sighed. “I’m just here to help. Same as I helped you with the Giants, and your intel, remember?”

  Fey lit up another cigarette and took a long puff before grounding it in the ashtray. “You didn’t tell me about Maya being there. If I’d known—”

  “You’d have done exactly what you did.” The dwarf’s voice dropped. “Don’t kid yourself. Your rage is as votile as Muspelheim’s fmes. You do not know restraint.”

  Fey’s crutch snapped, transforming into her staff. Lightning crackled at the tip. “You used me to collect divine artefacts, is that it? Was I a pawn to be used and discarded?”

  The dwarf chuckled, sniffling at one of Fey’s deadly pnts in her room. “Witchy, you’re not the sharpest rune in the pouch, are you? No wonder you dropped out of school.”

  A vein popped on Fey’s forehead. That hit. She raised her staff.

  “Thurisaz—!”

  Lightning surged, shattering a socket and scorching the wall. Lights flickered. Wallpaper peeled. Almasi leapt behind Fey’s night drawer.

  “Mercy!” he cried, waving a tiny white handkerchief. “I came to warn you.”

  Fey sneered. The glow on her staff’s tip only brightened. “I’m done, little man. I won’t let you use me to find the Valkyrie gear.”

  “Are you?” He asked forebodingly, jumping up to the bed. “Because vengeance has a way of creeping back into your bones, witchy. Someone else is already on the hunt for you.”

  Fey hesitated, lowering her staff. “What are you talking about?”

  From his suit, the dwarf produced a small object and tossed it. Fey flinched, butMissy snatched the projectile from midair.

  In a swirl of feathers and quite an uncanny ugh, the dwarf vanished—transformed back into a crow. He nded on the railing, wings spread. “If you care about what’s right, witchy, you’ll listen. Keep your sights peeled. Find the Valkyrie’s artifacts before they do.”

  Missy hissed violently, chasing the crow away. Fey stepped forward, watching the crow vanish into the night.

  “A gift,” his venomous voice echoed. “And a warning. Heed it, or pay a price too steep to imagine.”

  Fey knelt beside Missy and gently unwrapped the packaged projectile. What she found was a carved, hammer-shaped stone with a raven amidst a pit of snakes.

  She couldn’t believe what she was holding in her hands. The withered stone was ancient and runed. Viking-made. An artefact of a legendary Viking.

  Inspecting the wrapping, she realised it was parchment written in fming ink that set the paper on fire. It was a dark prophecy warped from the tongues of the Norns, old seers who wove the tapestry of fate.

  Fey’s stomach sank. Her grip on the stone tightened.

  Something was happening. Something bad.

  And CUT Arc 2 is officially wrapped up now! There will be one st thing being posted to anticipate you all for Arc 3. Stay tuned! I'm working on it. Thank you for everyone reading this series. It really means a lot.