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Prologue

Thrymheim Hold, the Northlands

Hooddess of the hunt

In ages long past

Lucia the Maiden cracked open her eyes and found herself atop an altar, staring up at a furious goddess Soin the Radiant, had found Skathi's teht Lucia here

Froht deliriously as her fever raged Pain roiled inside her broken body Her fractured liony

"You deliver this into my sacred place," Skathi the Huntress of the Great North said to Regin, "and desecrateValkyrie"

Regin - all of twelve years old, with Lucia's blood covering her glowing skin - said, "What can you do? Torture my sister? Murder her? She has already survived the first and is about to succumb to the second without your aid"

"I could murder both of you"

In answer, Regin pursed her lips, looking as if she were sizing up Skathi's shins for a good kicking

Lucia struggled for consciousness, labored to speak "Don't hurt her, please my fault,boohts of Godsbellow Mountain, shaken continually by thunder

Skathi asked Regin, "Why bring her here?"

"Because you're both neighbor and nemesis to the one who did this"

Had interest flickered in the goddess's eyes? "The Broken Bloody One?"

"Aye"

Canting her head at Regin in an appraising way, Skathi said, "You're not even old enough to be a true inificant, you dare much, Valkyrie"

"For Lucia, I dare this and in answered proudly "Best be forewarned"

"Regin!" Lucia gasped The girl had lost her mind

"What?" She stomped her foot "What'd I say?"

Instead of suards, the legendary Skathians They were renowned archers, all feoddess "Take the glowing one down the mountain Make sure she does not remember the way back"

When Regin charged toward her, Lucia cried, "Nay, Regin leave me!"

The Skathians snagged Regin around the waist, forcing her out as she flailed and shrieked, biting them

Lucia heard one of theone

Skathi regarded Lucia's battered face impassively "You worry for her? When she has been spared? You, however, will not last the hour"

"I know," Lucia whispered "Unless you help aze as she pleaded - a oddess Meeting her fathoht on the sorrow and fear of all her prey over the ages It sank over Lucia like a bitter frost "Please" When Lucia held up her crimson-stained hand in supplication, the wound across her torso she'd been holding welled with blood, flowing over her sides A fountain of sticky war her battered body, but it quickly cooled on the chill stone