MISC: The Girl Who save the World...6

[George Phillies]

And I remembered what happened next.

At the top of the Outer Stairs I had company.  Waiting for me were 
Valkyria, the super-heavy combatant of the League of Nations Elite 
Strike Team, and the Screaming Skull, himself. Alas, they weren’t 
fighting each other, so I couldn’t smile once, duck twice, and flee 
their island paradise. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. For 
thousands of years the Namestone has been known to be the Key to Heaven. 
  The League of Nations has passed any number of decrees claiming it for 
themselves, just as soon as someone else rescues it from the Maze.  Now 
I had the Namestone, and they wanted it.

I did a crash drop, calling such power as I could find. I shoved all the 
power into my shields. I really wanted to teleport away.  Teleport is a 
wonderful gift, as good a gift as flight, but teleporting far enough to 
avoid a chase needed a lot of power, more than I could call just yet. 
Yes, I could have switched power from shields to teleport, and jumped 
out.  The moment I shifted power out of my shields, they would have 
faded, enough that I’d have been toast before I could disappear.

“Where is she, little girl?  Where is the bearer of the Holy Namestone?” 
  That was Valkyria, shouting at me.  Valkyria? Six feet tall, impervium 
plate battle armor, heavy duty body field, not to mention a flaming 
sword that was mostly a special effect shrouding a pointblank range 
plasma attack. Yes, there is also an endarium blade inside the flames. 
There is a long tradition of people in plate mail being idiots, and at 
the moment she was living up to the tradition.   Her long blonde hair 
fluttered in the sea breeze. Bad form. Mum always said Valkyria should 
wear her hair short or mound it under her helmet, failing which someone 
would grab it.

I was a bit miffed.  GR, she does have three-quarters of a foot on me, 
but ‘little girl’ is not the nicest imaginable greeting.  True or not, 
‘Little girl’ is impolite.  Valkyria should have been less threatening. 
  After all, I was carrying the most powerful artifact in the world. I 
still wanted more time before I tried teleporting.

“I’m twenty feet in front of you,” I answered.

“Aren’t you … isn’t the real Bearer taller?” Valkyria asked.

I glowered.  GR, I’m not into my teen growth spurt yet, but it’s not I 
didn’t pass five feet last year.  “I am tall.” That’s when I ran out of 
patience.  Valkyria hadn’t even been civil, let alone congratulated me 
on walking the Maze. If she wanted to insult me, there’s no reason I 
couldn’t return the favor.  “Wait!,” I continued, “Isn’t the real 
Valkyria a bit less pudgy? I mean, how do they manage to squeeze you 
into that armor?”  Her nostrils flared. I guess she’s sensitive about 
that line.