Master of Miasma (The Valhalla Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

live in our own Valhalla.”
    Frowning, my own reading rears its head and I argue, employing it to stave off fear, “But Valhalla is for the fallen. It's not Asgard or Fólkvangr.”
    “ But it is peaceful, Emma. Valhalla is known for its tranquility and for shining brightly, with the golden tree as its distinctive attribute. The eagle is above the doors of Valhalla, and that is where Eagle went. This location isn't Valhalla but its our version of it, it's a home away from home for the Raven clan.”
    He offers me a tumbler, picking up his own bigger version, indicating I should drink now. Worming up to rest against the suede headboard I accept my thimble, staring again into the golden drink, unsure if I'm going to cry. Emotions are welling up inside me and I think I might be the human about to crack under pressure. Misery is cloaking me, loss weighs heavy, this situation is shredding my subconscious and surrendering without a fight.
    He affectionately tucks my hair behind my ear, saying intimately, “This is the drink of Valhalla, from the golden tree Læraðr. It cannot be compared to mead but it is close to ambrosia, we call it by its simplest description, arcana . It was this that the Argonauts and their buddy Jason went treasure hunting for. For good reason. But enough history for one night, how are you feeling?”
    “ I think this is a dream and I'll be sorry when I wake up.”
    It's true and shocks even me to admit it. He doesn't feel like danger incarnate. I'm worried because I like this crazy delusion, I like the hallucinations of whatever someone spiked into my beer. It's nuts, but it's a journey into something I couldn't make up if I tried. Giants wanting my company when humans spurn it, how enticing is that? It makes me feel both fragile and essential. I guess I did want to be needed for something after all. Purpose. Guy would call it purpose.
    “Why? What about this would cause you regret if it is just a dream?” he says.
    The timbre of his voice has dropped to husky and it's enough to distract me. “Uhm, 'cause I like this weird reality. I love that cave we were in, and er.... you're nice too.”
    “I'm nice? Even though I marked you with the seal of acceptance?”
    “ Ah huh,” I nod, nibbling my lip and focussing wholeheartedly on my drink, forcing myself to take another sip of the intriguing cocktail. Anything not to meet those eyes and experience the phenomenal magnetism in them.
    My hand has stopped throbbing and I lift it as a distraction, offering it to him to unwrap, “It feels okay now.”
    Unbinding the cloth, he twists my hand, examining it, pleased with the black ridge staining my palm in a Valhalla triangle. Hey, he's no longer wearing gloves.
    “ How come your hands are normal? This is insane dude.”
    Closing his free hand into a big fist, he flexes the fingers out and shows me his palm, “It only raises in the presence of our own who is unmarked. It was confirmation of my suspicions about you. My blood wanted to recognize yours and bring you into the fold. It recedes when no longer required.”
    Narrowing my eyelids because of the heat of his stare, I scramble for mundane ground, “What would have happened if I'd chosen the spiky circle to shake?”
    “ The right hand thwarts enemies. The spikes inject toxins into you, erasing your memory of us in its entirety, marking your palm with pustules until death.”
    And you were willing to do that to me? Without even a warning?
    “It's prudent, Emma. We've lived long enough to know better than to give enemies the benefit of the doubt. You are either with us, or against us. There is no maybe.”
    “ Are you a giant then?” I blurt, instantly shocked at my lack of tact, diving back into my drink for a big gulp of potion.
    “ I'm like you, half half. I think I knew your father before he left out of loneliness. We lose more men to the desire for female companionship than anything else.”
    Almost dropping my glass, I peg upright, “You