Free Descendant by Lesley Livingston

That was what Loki had said, too. But Mason still didn’t understand it. “And that happened . . . how exactly?”
    Hel sighed. “My daughter is full of questions, I see. I was not always as I am now. Not even here. There was a time when I was nothing but a shade in this place. Like all the rest. But I grew stronger.” She turned and placed one cool, long-fingered hand on Mason’s cheek. “Oh, Mason. How can I make you understand this? Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for the best. I only wanted to find a way, somehow, to make you safe in the world.”
    “You sound as if you made a choice to leave me there.”
    “A choice. A sacrifice . . .” Hel seemed disinclined toelaborate and turned back to the path. She increased her pace up the winding way that led to the steep side of the craggy rock face in front of them. “When Loki offered power, I took it—took up the mantle of the goddess Hel—for you .”
    “And why, then, are you in such a rush to get me out of here again?”
    “Because you shouldn’t be here. You are a disruption. An imbalance. Anything that introduces an element of chaos into the delicate matrix of the realms of the gods is the province of those like Loki.” She frowned, as if disturbed by the very thought. “You could become an unwitting tool that he could use to bring about a terrible fate. It’s not that I don’t want you here, Mason. It’s that I can’t allow you to stay. Do you understand?”
    She did. And she was trying desperately not to take it personally. “Okay . . .” She shrugged. “So we get to Valhalla and find this spear. And then you can get rid of me and carry on being a goddess. That’s great.”
    “It’s not like—”
    “Whatever.” Mason ignored her mother’s protest. “Look. I’m not stupid, and I’ve read enough to know that it’s never that easy. You don’t just walk into a magickal land and fetch a mystical object and walk back out again unchallenged. There’s always something standing by that wants to eat your face or rip your arms off or turn you into a newt.” Mason’s hand dropped to rest on the hilt of her sword. “So what’s it going to be? Because I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s waiting there to greet me with a big ugly hug.”
    Hel’s spine was stiff with disapproval. It was abundantly clear that she wasn’t used to being challenged. Her deep sapphire eyes flashed dangerously for an instant. But then she seemed to pause, to take a breath—although Mason hadn’t been able to discern whether her mother actually did that—and her mouth bent into a soft, gentle smile. The expression changed her, and Mason felt suddenly as if the sun had broken through the bleak, ashen clouds overhead and poured its warmth down upon her. For a moment, she wavered and almost gave in to the desire to follow her mother anywhere. But she wrapped her hand tightly around the hilt of her rapier—so tightly that the coiled silver wire bit into her palm, and the pain brought a fresh welling of tears to her eyes and kept her focused. She saw her mother’s glance flick down to the sword. She stared at the elegant, silvery weapon for a long moment,and then her eyes shifted back up to Mason’s face.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, and her voice was actually soothing for the first time. “My dear girl. I know this isn’t easy for you. The truth of the matter is this: You are right. It never is easy. And there was a time when you would have had to fight your way through hordes of draugr just to even set foot on the path that leads to Asgard.”
    The word “draugr” sent a cold wave of fear washing over Mason. Those were the gray-skinned monstrosities that had attacked her and Fennrys twice in New York City. And she could wave her bravado flag all she wanted, but if it came to facing down those things again, Mason knew she couldn’t do it.
    Her mother must have seen the fear in her eyes. She put a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “That isn’t