Jewels and Feathers: Race Games, #3

By Kendra Moreno

Munin has spent her life collecting secrets and trinkets, but when she loses her brother to the Games, she's forced to change her focus. Deciding to enter the Race Games herself to discover who orchestrated her brother's death, Munin is prepared to do what it takes to find the information she so desperately seeks. She'll call in every favor if she has to.

Her only barrier is that she needs a team worthy of Odin's spy.

No living person will do, so Munin decides to do something she's never dared to do before. She goes to Valhalla and drags back three Viking warriors into a second life. They were meant to aide her survival in the race, but Munin can't help the way Brin, Vidar, and Eirik make her burn.

The corruption in the Race Games is growing. Munin has never been a noble bird, but she knows Hugin would have wanted her to act. Battle axe in hand, Munin and her Vikings will avenge her brother and burn those who would pit supe against supe, no matter those who stand in their way.

Not all battles are fought with a blade.
Some of them are fought with four tires and a checkered flag. . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kendra Moreno
• Release date: Jan 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201344450

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Seventy Years Ago

Muni’s eyes were riveted to the large screens in front of her, the magical televisions far more advanced than the ones the humans used. The Race Games was still a new concept, at least in this structure. Before the Race Games, it was simply The Games, a series of competitions meant to test the strength and will of others. Before it was the screaming engines of cars, it was brutal fists and weapons, equally as bloody, and yet somehow crueler. No matter the format of the Games, it was a gory display of desperation, each creature determined to earn honor for their race. Now, the excitement was only heightened with the introduction of the metal machines, the ingenuity each year only growing.

That’s what had attracted Hugin; the technology.

Though the machines were shaped just as the humans made them, all the smooth lines and brutal power this decade brought, each race of creatures were learning to modify them to their advantage. Muni heard the fae had started testing blood fuel. Whose blood, she didn’t know, nor did she desire to find out. She was only there for support, waiting in the stands for the moment Hug, her brother, either won, or crossed the finish line with his feathers tucked between his legs.

As the Crow team was the only team both Hug and Muni identified with, that’s where they were claimed. Really, they didn’t belong in any of the teams, unique as they were. They had the same black feathers as the crows, sure, but they were both ravens through and through. Lucky for Hug, the Crow team hadn’t seemed to care, excited at the prospect of one of Odin’s ravens racing for them.

His teammate a close human friend who had been introduced to the supernatural world years prior, Hug was giving everyone a run for their money. It seemed strange to think that so long ago, battles were fought at the sharp end of an axe and ended with a one-way ticket to Valhalla. Now, this was the battle, here on this racetrack, and Hug was in the lead.

Keep going, Hug, Muni breathed, her eyes riveted to the projected screen. You can do this.

He wasn’t close enough to hear her, even with his advanced hearing, but as connected as they were, he would hear the words within his mind. They were one and the same, brother and sister, and with that, this race held a bigger risk than anyone knew. Their life force was tied together, just as if Muni was down there racing with him, her life was on the line.

The necromancer team was right behind him, the roar of Hug’s 1957 Chevy Bel Air echoing around the stands as they rounded the corner and gunned it for the finish line. The necromancers were driving a Hornet, fast, but not as fast as a raven with his eyes on the prize. They would never catch them, not by speed alone. Hug had built that engine in the Bel Air himself. No one could beat him.

Go, Hug! Muni shouted, screaming with the rest of the people in the stands. Some wore expressions of distaste as Hug raced forward. It wasn’t surprising. After all, most disliked the secrets she and her brother dealt in. Really, if they were honorable people, they wouldn’t have such dirty secrets to worry about, but as the supernatural community knew, finding a good and completely moral creature within them was rare. When you held power in your hands, when some lived multiple human lives, it was difficult to not find yourself deep in the grey area morality.

Muni began to jump up and down as she felt Hug’s excitement in her mind. He was a hundred yards from the finish line, so close, they could both taste it. This was it. Not only would he win the race, he would also walk away with a council seat as his prize. No longer would they be only Odin’s spies. They could forge their own paths.

Her wings flared wide at eighty yards, the excitement too much that she found herself rising into the air for a better view. Go, Hug, Go! she screamed, the stands equally filled with shouts for her brother and the necromancer team. The wind rushed by her face, whipping her black hair back and forth.

The Bel Air pulled ahead further, sixty yards left, fifty, forty. This was it. This was the moment.

Something shifted in the air, something that made Muni’s spine tingle in warning. Eyes widening, she shot forward, toward the Bel Air, but she was too far away to do anything. It was forbidden to interfere in the races like that, but Muni didn’t care for rules, not when it came to her brother. The air swirled with untapped energy.

Hugin! Muni screamed, such terror in the sound that it silenced the crowd and drew their confused eyes up to her. But she was too late.

The energy shrunk and snapped tight before exploding outward from the Bel Air with a dazzling display of fire. The flames flared yellow, blue, and for the briefest of moment, green. It shouldn’t have been so beautiful, the death of her brother, but it somehow was.

The necromancer team sped passed the flaming ball that was once her brother’s Bel Air, heading for the finish line, but she didn’t care to watch. Her eyes were on the wreckage.

. . .and then she felt the snap in her heart. . .

Muni’s wings crumpled in on themselves and she began to fall like a feathered star.

No one dared to catch the raven as she slammed into the asphalt below. . .

CHAPTER ONE

Present Day

"Y ou said you have memories of other eras," the hypnotist murmured, her voice comforting in the silent room. Muni had searched for specifically this therapist, not because she didn’t know who she was, but because she couldn’t remember the last moment before her death. She was searching for answers to three questions.

One: where was Hugin if she was here in the flesh, reincarnated and brought from Hel?

Two: what had happened to her brother to send him not to Hel, but somewhere else?

Three: who was responsible for their death?

Struggle as she did, she couldn’t remember any of those answers. In desperation, she’d turned to the hypnotist, Dr. Lowe.

Yes. I’ve lived many lives, Muni answered as she laid back on the sofa. I’m searching for a particular memory, the moment of my last death.

The hypnotist hummed in response. It’s not unusual for patients to come in knowing without a doubt of their past memories, though I’m curious how you came to realize your memories weren’t normal.

Knowing she needed to answer some questions in order for the woman to help her, Muni cracked her eyes to peer at the hypnotist. Shouldn’t you have some sort of talisman you swing back and forth in front of my eyes?

Doctor Lowe smiled and folded her hands over her notepad, leaning forward. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have to use such tactics to find memories. We’ll be delving into a form of mediation to find what you seek, no theatrics necessary.

Muni returned the smile, mostly because she genuinely liked the woman. She smelled of secrets though not because she was a bad person. She believed in doctor-patient confidentiality so much, her mind was an iron trap. For that reason alone, Muni nodded her head and closed her eyes again. The sound machine in the background sounded like ocean waves, and despite it being a generic sound, for Muni, the waves crashed against what felt like the coast of Norway. Home, so far from home, so far from her brother. Hopefully she could find the answers she needed to find him.

I was born with my memories of my past life already in my mind, though it took many years to realize they weren’t normal. My mother in this life would give me strange looks when I’d point out ravens excitedly or make comments about old gods and their habits.

And how does your mother feel about those memories now that you’re in your late twenties?

Muni shrugged. I wouldn’t know. She died when I sixteen from lung cancer. She was a good woman, but she had a terrible smoking habit. She paused to take a deep breath as the ocean waves crashed again. When I was eight years old, I stopped mentioning the memories when I saw how it made her feel. I stopped drawing pictures in school of it, and everyone praised how normal I was. I imagine she wouldn’t be happy to realize I’d simply stopped talking about all the things I know rather than was cured of some strangeness.

The sounds of a pen scratching on paper reached Muni’s ears. And how did it make you feel to have to hide those things? They’re an important part of who you are.

At first, I understood. Her mind wasn’t capable of handling such realizations. My mother was achingly human in all her mannerisms. The first time I sprouted wings, I had to convince her she’d imagined it.

The pen scratching stopped. Wings?

Muni cracked her eyes open again to study the hypnotist. Don’t pretend as if you don’t know there are other creatures on the earth, doctor. I looked into your history thoroughly before coming here.

For a moment, the woman didn’t move, her eyes trained on Muni, but a few seconds more and she relaxed into her seat again and crossed her arms. I see this is a different session than I expected.

I only need your help to search my memories and find what happened to my brother. Reaching into her pocket and dropping a small leather coin purse better suited to olden times on the table between them, Muni met her eyes. I appreciate any help you can offer.

Doctor Lowe’s eyes dropped the pouch. Inside, there were old coins worth more than she made in a year, and that was saying something for the immensely popular hypnotist. Of course, Munin. But it’ll cost double that.

Raising a brow at her, Muni drew out another pouch and tossed it on the table. I see you’ve realized who I am.

With a nod, Doctor Lowe set her notepad aside and leaned forward in her seat. I do, and I know you understand the risk I take in helping you find your memories. Likely, you were reincarnated without Hugin for a very specific reason.

I shouldn’t have been reincarnated at all, not without Hug. I understand the risk you take, and I appreciate your help. Once I find my memories, I’ll leave with none the wiser. I won’t speak of this, and I expect you to destroy any records of me being here.

Very well, Doctor Lowe replied. She was curious enough to risk such odds. Hug and Muni were killed for a reason, and it would be foolish to think whoever meant them harm was not still out in the world, watching. Close your eyes and draw yourself to the last memory you have before your death.

Muni searched her mind until she landed on the memory of cheering Hug on in the Race Games, but after the flag waved, everything grew static in her memory. Got it, she whispered.

Now imagine the static parting like the waves you hear. Take a few minutes to really sink into the fuzzy memory and wade forward into it. It’ll likely feel like you’re pushing through honey, and that’s okay. That’s just the block.

Doing as the doctor said, Muni slowly pushed forward, encouraging the static to move away from her. The image grew colorful, not clear, but progress.

Good, Doctor Lowe hummed. Now imagine strings on the memories. Ropes. Wrap your hands around those and pull. It might be painful.

As if her saying the words made it so, a sharp pain shot through Muni’s head that made her cringe. Still, she did as she was instructed and imagined ropes around the memory before pulling at those tethers. More of the static dropped away.

Deep breaths. Keep pulling.

The static settled, revealing the large screens in front of Muni televising the race. Everything looked outdated, but Muni had expected that, had known she’d last been alive in the 1950s. Still, she wasn’t prepared for the close up shot of her brother to flash on the screen. Her heart ached at the memory of what he’d once looked like. Though she was mostly the same in her reincarnation, there was one distinct difference. Before they’d died, Muni and Hug had matching star birthmarks on their cheekbones. Muni hadn’t been reincarnated with it, and she suspected it was because Hug hadn’t been born with her.

I see it, Muni murmured.

Good. The Doctor shifted on her side of the room. Don’t let go of the tethers.

Muni hadn’t even realized she’d still been holding them, that her hands had been loosening. At the doctor’s words, she tightened her hold and pushed harder.

Suddenly, her perspective shot into the air, a better view over the race as Hug pushed toward the finish line in the lead. Almost as if the memory being there brought with it the pain, Muni’s chest began to hurt the moment the perspective changed. Her instincts knew what was about to happen, knew it wasn’t good, but she couldn’t look away. She had to know.

Brilliant yellow, green, and blue flames rocked outward, knocking her back in her position so high in the sky, and the cord snapped in her chest. She felt it as if she were there and she gasped even as she still forced herself to watch. Her body began to fall, and the moment she slammed into the ground, Muni shot upright on the couch with a bolt of pain through her body, the memory of her death. Her eyes were wild as she looked around the room until she found the doctor where she stood pouring a glass of bourbon from a crystal decanter.

I suspect you’ll need this, she said, moving across the room to offer it to Muni.

Without a reply, Muni took the crystal glass and tossed the rich bourbon back, hoping it would help ease the memory of death. It didn’t.

Many thanks, Muni rasped and handed the glass back.

You found your answer? she asked, setting the crystal back in its spot.

Muni nodded. I did. For your safety, I won’t tell you.

Doctor Lowe waved away her words. I already suspect it’s not pretty, but the moment you’re out of my doors, I’ll burn all evidence you were here. Just promise me one thing?

Muni glanced up at her. Yes?

Give them Hel.

Grinning, Muni pressed her fist to her chest and the doctor repeated the action. With those words, she left the hypnotist’s office, not having needed much of a hypnotist at all. Still, the price had been well worth it, because Muni now knew an answer to at least one of her questions. Her brother wasn’t in Hel because he’d died in battle. He was in Valhalla. And though she didn’t know the answer to the last question, she knew with certainty that there was someone responsible.

Now, she just had to find out who had dared to kill Odin’s Ravens.

CHAPTER TWO

The streets of Norway were far different from the last time Muni had set foot on the cobblestones. The old country had been brought into the future, the buildings a mix between modern glass and old concrete. Cars Muni was used to seeing were everywhere, clogging the streets that were once only travelled by horse and carriage. Though Muni would never feel disdain for the technological advances humanity had made, she missed the beauty of the old country. Once upon a time, the land was green and pure, the sky wasn’t clogged with pollution, and animals roamed freely. They were simpler times but all the more beautiful for it.

Her search had brought her to her homeland, not because she suspected she would find answers here, but because she’d come up with a plan. Supernatural creatures lived long lives. Whoever was responsible for her brother’s death was likely still alive, walking the earth. Vengeance wasn’t always a moral path to follow, but Muni didn’t much care. She’d already been to Hel once. Going again did not scare her.

She wasn’t looking for the culprit, however. She was going to lure them out and destroy them in front of the entire supernatural world. How fitting that she would do so in the Race Games.

But in order to race in the Games, she needed at least one teammate, and most known creatures wouldn’t dare work with Odin’s Spy. Humans were out of the question. Though there were some talented ones, including Danica Dyers who had won the Games over a year ago for the Vamps, humans were fragile creatures for the most part. She wouldn’t ask that of any living human.

But those who were already gone. . .

Muni’s hair billowed around her in the wind as she walked alone down the cobblestone street. This road, rather than repave it with concrete, had been repaired so that the stone remained intact. A few stones were obviously newer, but the city had done an excellent job at blending them as best as possible, giving the street itself a historical feel that likely drew in tourists by the thousands. Likewise, the buildings on this part of the street were old, not as old as Muni had once been, but old enough to make her bones ache with their history. Her wings were hidden, as they often were, but still, a few elders sitting on a bench on the street, bowed their heads in respect. Sometimes, the older ones recognized celestial auras. Though Muni wasn’t a goddess, she’d been blessed by a god. The younger ones had forgotten what it was like to stand in the presence of such power, and so, they travelled by blissfully unaware. But the elders, they knew.

Muni stroked her fingers along the hands they offered as she passed, giving them a blessing that would likely give them a few more years of healthy life, not because she held the power to heal, but because they were touched by Odin. It was an indirect blessing, muted, but it still worked just the same. If any of the actual deities gifted a blessing, it would be far more powerful.

"Takk skal du ha, ravn," the elder woman murmured so softly, no one else on the street would have been able to hear it.

Muni inclined her head just barely in respect and continued passed. Any other time, she might have sat with the elders and encouraged them to speak their stories. History was often