The Valkyries

mine. Valhalla, carrying a lantern, began to move forward carefully, so as not to bump her head on the passagebeams. Paulo noticed that here and there the floor had collapsed. It might have been dangerous, but now wasn’t the time to think about it.
    As they went deeper, the temperature fell, and it even became pleasant. He was worried about a lack of air, but Valhalla was moving along as if she knew the place well—she must have been there many times, and she was still alive. Now wasn’t the time to think about that, either.
    After walking for ten minutes or so, the Valkyrie halted. They sat on the floor of the passage, and she placed the lantern in the middle of their circle.
    “Angels,” she said. “Angels are visible to those who accept the light. And break the pact with the darkness.”
    “I have no pact with the darkness,” Paulo responded. “I had one. But no longer.”
    “I’m not talking about a pact with Lucifer, or with Satan, or with…” She began to speak the names of various demons, and her face looked strange.
    “Don’t say those names,” Paulo interrupted. “God is in the words, and the devil as well.”
    Valhalla laughed. “It looks as if you’ve learned the lesson. Now, break the pact.”
    “I have no pact with evil,” Paulo repeated.
    “I’m talking about your pact with defeat.”
    Paulo thought of what J. had said—about destroying what we love most. But J. had said nothing about pacts; he knew Paulo well enough to know that his pact with evil had been broken a long time ago. The silence within the mine was worse than in the desert. Not a sound was heard, except Valhalla’s voice—which sounded different.
    “We have a contract, you and I: not to win when victory is possible,” she insisted.
    “I have never made any such pact,” Paulo said for the third time.
    “Everyone has. At some point in our lives, we all enter into such an agreement. That’s why there is an angel with a burning sword at the gates to paradise. To allow entry only to those who have broken that pact.”
    Yes, she’s right,
thought Chris.
Everyone has made this pact.
    “Do you find me attractive?” Valhalla asked, once again changing the tone of her voice.
    “You are a beautiful woman,” Paulo answered.
    “One day, when I was still an adolescent, I saw my best friend crying. We were inseparable, and we loved each other completely, and I asked whathad happened. When I insisted on knowing, she told me that her boyfriend was in love with me. I didn’t know that, and that day I made the pact. Without really knowing why, I began to gain weight, to take poor care of myself, to become unattractive. Because—unconsciously—I felt that my beauty was a curse, and had caused suffering for my best friend.
    “Before long, I had destroyed all meaning in my life because I just didn’t care about myself anymore. I reached the point that everything about my life became unbearable: I thought about dying.”
    Valhalla laughed.
    “As you can see, I broke the pact.”
    “True,” Paulo said.
    “Yes, it is true,” Chris said. “You are lovely.”
    “We are in the heart of the mountain,” the Valkyrie continued. “Outside, the sun is shining, and here there is only darkness. But the temperature is pleasant, we can sleep, we have nothing to worry about. This is the darkness of the pact.”
    She raised her hand to the zipper of her leather jacket.
    “Break the pact,” she said. “For the glory of God. For love. And for victory.”
    She began to lower the zipper slowly. She wore nothing beneath the jacket.
    The light from the lantern caused a medallion between her breasts to gleam.
    “Take it,” she said.
    Paulo touched the medallion. The archangel Michael.
    “Take it from around my neck.”
    He removed the medallion and held it in his hands.
    “Both of you, hold the medallion.”
    Suddenly, Chris blurted out, “I don’t need to see my angel! I don’t need to. Just speaking will do.”
    Paulo held the medallion in his hand.
    “I’ve already begun talking with my angel,” Chris went on, more quietly. “I know that I can, and that’s good enough.”
    Paulo didn’t believe her. But Valhalla knew that it was the truth. She had read it in her eyes when they were outside. She also knew that her angel wanted her to be there with her husband.
    Nevertheless, she had to test her courage. It was the rule of the Tradition.
    “All right,” the Valkyrie said. With a rapid movement, she blew out the