Free Empty Altars by Judith Post

that sound?
    "I mated once when I was young. It was a casual coupling." His voice darkened. "When I lost my hand, I lost much of my appeal to her."
    Dear Zeus! It only made him more desirable in her eyes, but she looked away. She was succumbing to foolishness. "We have a battle to win. Too much is at stake to fritter away time." She caught Freya's knowing expression and frowned. "Don't even think about it." She knew how much Venus enjoyed any type of romance. The Norse goddess of love and beauty would be no different.
    A mask of innocence settled over Freya's features. "My every thought is on war."
    A deep chuckle escaped Tyr as he turned to leave. "We'll see you in one week," he rumbled. "Gudrun will make sure of that."
    Diana watched him and Jorunda until they disappeared into the trees, then she did her best to push Tyr from her mind. How long had he been alone? What woman, in her right mind, would grow tired of him? She shook her head. What did it matter? She was here to do a job, and then she'd return home, to her own world, and the sky god would stay here in this primitive meadow.
    "We have work to do!" she snapped, ready for action. Diana covered the ceramic jar of wine and emptied her goblet. "Let’s get started. Find parchment to write on."
    Inga leapt to her feet and hurried into the house. Noir started after her. "Aren't you coming with us?" Diana called to him.
    The cat didn't even turn his head. He disappeared inside the doorway, swishing his tail, clearly peeved with her.
    "I could summon my pets for you," Freya offered.
    "Thanks, but I was hoping for my familiar." Diana glared in Noir's direction. "Filthy beast. Who needs him? He can stay here and lick himself."
    Freya snickered, then let the subject drop.
    Inga returned, parchment in hand. “I’ve seen a grove far away from the village. It’s more private there.”
    The three women set off through the spruce trees in the opposite direction of Griswold’s lands. Diana had one week before Tyr and Jorunda returned again, one week to train Inga in the basics of magic—seven days out of less than a month before they claimed victory or suffered defeat—and she was feeling pressured.
    Her mood improved once they were in the wood. She couldn’t wait until she was surrounded by rowan trees, inhaling the essence of a sacred grove. She hummed to herself as they made their way along the path. Then she caught sight of a plant with delicate, blue flowers and halted abruptly. She pointed. "Wolfbane!" How could they be so lucky?
    "You want to stop to pick flowers?" Freya asked, her tone full of doubt.
    "Hounds won't pass it."
    Inga grabbed a leaf from the plant and tucked it in her bodice.
    "Have you seen a hound?" Diana asked.
    "Only from a distance when you made Heid retreat."
    "She’ll send them to attack the village again. Pick as much wolfbane as you see. More will grow. We'll hang the dried plants on the village fence."
    Hope bubbled in Diana’s heart. With the right chants, she could protect the village from black magic, but even mortals could protect themselves from hellhounds with wolfbane. They went deeper into the woods, searching for the rowan Inga had seen, when they stumbled into a circle of pulverized trees. Not a trunk or a branch remained. Leaves, bark, and pulp were mashed into mush.
    "What happened?" Inga frowned at the ground—a soggy layer of green-stained sawdust. "A whirlwind?"
    "Not likely." Diana knelt to inhale the scent. One sniff, and she could feel the color drain from her face. Hot acid filled her stomach. Heat burned in her veins. "By all the gods…."
    "Diana?" Inga took a step back from her.
    The curse died on her lips. Dark energy swirled inside her, tinted with angry reds. It gathered around her, she knew, reflecting her mood.
    "What is it?" Freya scooped up some of the debris. The Norse goddess' hands balled into fists. "Rowans," she whispered.
    Diana scarcely heard her. “Sacred to Greeks. Untouchable. When Hebe, the goddess of