Shadow Empress (Night Elves Trilogy Book 3)

by C. N. Crawford

  Gently he lifted my arms. I could smell him now, wood smoke and sage. Familiar but distant, like something from a dream.

  Black vapor from the runes on his chest drifted over my shoulders. Hela’s magic.

  “You need to focus,” whispered Galin. “What makes you angry?”

  What had he said to me? That he was glad I’d severed the ties with him so he didn’t end up with a selfish wretch?

  That should do it.

  And then there was Hela, who had branded Galin and stolen Barthol.

  “Concentrate,” Galin whispered.

  The problem was, when I thought of Hela, or of Galin’s dismissal of me, a different emotion started to seep in: sadness.

  I needed to think of something else.

  So as I closed my eyes, I remembered how I’d been full of rage when I was imprisoned in the Audr Mine. Back then, I was thinking of all the ways I could hurt Galin—the High Elf prince who I thought had betrayed me. I wanted him dead.

  But he hadn’t betrayed me, had he? It had all been a trick played on me by Revna and Gorm, with forged letters.

  All the time I’d been suffering in the mine, Galin had been trapped in the Citadel, desperately trying to save me.

  Galin swung my hands through the shapes of the runes as I tried to remember the words to the spell. I breathed in, as if I might fill my lungs with rage, but instead I smelled Galin again. Warmth from his body radiated over me. Once, I’d been curled up in his arms.

  That wood smoke was so distinctive. Did he smell like that naturally?

  “Are you focused?” he purred.

  “Yes,” I said, too quickly. I turned to face him. “I was just thinking of the time Barthol ate sixty-three portobello mushrooms on a dare and threw up all over our house. I was livid. It’s not working, though.”

  Galin stared at me, the icy breeze rippling over us.

  “Let me try without you for a moment.”

  Turning from him, I hurried up the trail, without looking back.

  That had been disorienting. I felt something for him, and he’d made it clear that nothing was returned.

  It was better this way, I reminded myself. I had a kingdom to rule.

  I just needed Galin’s help for this final task. Once the draugr were sent back to Hel, I could focus on my people. The Norn had been clear—an Empress’s duty, first and foremost, was to her people.

  And if I needed to learn magic, I could figure it out on my own.

  So why did I still feel like my heart was breaking?

  Chapter 11

  Galin

  I walked behind Ali. The sun stained the sky with peach, gold, and violet—a riot of warmth spreading over the blue-gray crags around us. Hours ago, we’d left the forest, and we now climbed a steep slope of football-sized boulders.

  Even in the gathering darkness, I had no trouble seeing the massive headwall of Mount Steton. It rose up like the side of the Citadel—a sheer face of granite, nearly vertical. Ali had asked me a few times how we were going to climb it, but the truth was I had no idea. I only knew that the Bifrost bridge was supposed to extend from the top of the mountain, and I hoped we’d figure it out as we got closer.

  I was certain the gods had created some sort of path; it was just a matter of finding it.

  As I watched Ali climb up the trail, I could tell she was exhausted. Each step plodded in front of the other, her back slightly hunched under the weight of her pack. She wasn’t accustomed to hiking miles upon miles up mountains. Now she looked like she might hobble off the trail at any moment. And I could hear her stomach growling.

  Something stirred in my chest, an overpowering need to see her stop and rest. The sight of her staggering was starting to make me feel something, visceral and hot.

  But whenever I suggested stopping, she tried to tell me she was fine. It seemed as Empress, she was determined to feign strength, even if she was exhausted.

  “You don’t have to pretend you’re not tired,” I said, unable to hide the irritation in my voice.

  She flashed me a sour look. “Okay. I’m tired. But I just want to get there faster. The faster we stop the draugr, the better.”

  I looked up at the headwall looming over us. No question it was too dark to ascend it tonight. We’d have to find a place to camp.

  We reached the top of the ridge, and I took in the beauty around us. Below, a small pond nestled in a hollow. A lip of rock and boulders wrapped around it, like a sort of giant nest of stone. Most importantly, I saw a large patch of alpine grass just next to the water.

  I pointed to it. “I think this is the perfect place to set up camp. We can’t keep climbing in the dark, Ali.”

  The relief on her face was apparent.

  Together we stumbled down the final hundred yards of scree. I dropped my pack in the center of the grassy spot, and sat down.

  Stretching out my legs, I leaned against my pack. As I stared at the last rays of the setting sun, Ali plopped down beside me, drinking water from her canteen.

  When she finished, she handed it to me, and I realized my throat was parched.

  Closing my eyes, I took a long slug from it. The water tasted delicious and pure. Living in Hela’s realm, I’d forgotten how to enjoy anything. I’d forgotten how drinking water after a long day in the sun could be the most blissful feeling in the world.

  After draining the canteen, I met Ali’s gaze. She was staring at me.

  I nodded at the pond. “We can refill it.”

  Her silver hair was stuck to her forehead, her face flushed. She slumped against her backpack, deflated. A sharp pang of guilt ran through me. I’d just drunk all her water.

  Quickly I rummaged in my pack, until I found my own water bottle.

  “Here,” I said, handing it to her. “You can drink this. We can refill at the pond.”

  “Thank you.” Ali immediately put it to her lips. She closed her eyes and began to drink.

  I stood, refreshed by the water, and walked to the edge of the pond. A breeze ruffled its surface for a moment, dappling it with catspaws, but then it went still. Gazing into it, I could see all the way to the stony bottom.

  My breath caught when I dipped my hand into the ice-cold water. As the canteen filled, I saw a flash of movement in the depths. A trout by the looks of it. How trout had made it into this tiny pond I had no idea, but I knew with certainty that I wanted Ali to eat something properly nourishing. If she was going to make it all the way to the bridge—and not slow me down—she’d need her strength.

  It seemed absolutely imperative that I get this fish for her. I’d brought food with us, but it was mostly dried goods. Bread and butter, dried meat and fruit. This could be a real meal.

  I watched the fish swim back and forth. I didn’t have a fishing rod. Luckily, I had magic. I began to scribe the portal spell. When the fish paused for a moment, I cast the portal an inch in front of it.

  Unfortunately, the portal I’d placed “in front” of the fish appeared right in the middle of its body.

  There was a searing hiss of static as the exit portal appeared next to me, and half the fish shot out, projected by a jet stream of water.

  Quickly, I canceled the portal. I realized that I’d forgotten to account for the difference in light refraction, the old spear fisherman’s trick of aiming a foot or two in front of the fish in order to hit it in the body.

  Still, it was freshly killed, and we could eat it. I picked up the fish half and walked back to the campsite.

  As I approached, I saw Ali standing with her back to me, moving her arms and muttering to herself. Practicing the fire spell. I paused to watch. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders and down to her lower back. She’d planted her feet firmly into the grass, her leather outfit hugging her body. Even without the soul bond, I found her shockingly beautiful.

  The memory of the crystal cave burst into my mind. How she’d wrapped those legs around my hips. She’d laced her fingers through my hair as I lifted her up … pressed h
er against the rough wall of the cave …

  I shoved the thoughts away. With the mating bond severed, there was nothing between us. As she’d made clear, she felt nothing for me. She didn’t want me as her mate, I was here only to help her.

  What we’d had was magic, that was all. A trick of the Norns.

  I dropped the meat on a nearby rock, pulled out my knife, and carefully filleted the fish. Then, I began cooking it with some fire magic, slathering it with butter from my satchel. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Ali was watching me carefully.

  “Is that a half a fish?”

  “Accident when I portaled it out of the pond.” She didn’t look convinced. “It’ll still taste good.” The fish sizzled as I cooked it.

  “What do you usually think about when you call fire?” asked Ali. “When you need anger?”

  I suddenly realized I had no idea. I’d been scribing kaun for so many years, I didn’t really think about it anymore. “I just get angry.”

  “You can get angry on command?”

  “Yes.” I melted more butter in a spoon, then dripped it over the fish. “We don’t have any plates, we’ll have to eat straight off the stone. We could go back if you like. I can make a portal and we can stay in Vanaheim tonight.”

  “I wasn’t born an Empress. I can sleep on the ground,” said Ali, again not wanting to admit any weakness. “And I don’t need plates, either. I was raised on mushroom gruel.” She crouched down next to me, and I handed her a fork from my bag. She was so close to me our shoulders were almost touching.

  Her smell was familiar. In the cool mountain air, I felt the heat from her body radiating against me.

  She swallowed a bite of fish. “This is amazing.”

  “I didn’t want you hungry. I couldn’t have you slowing me down further with your weakness.” The words just came out of my mouth. I knew they were wrong somehow, yet I was broken, and they came out.

  She frowned at me. “Right. Thanks.”

  Quickly I speared a piece of fish with my fork, and popped it in my mouth. The flavor of butter and the rich taste of the trout exploded across my palate. Until I took that bite, I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.

  “Hungry?” Ali asked.

  “Famished.”

  She stared at me. “So you feel something.” Her tone was icy, but her eyes were pure fire. She was accusing me of something, and I didn’t quite understand it.

  All I knew was that she was right—I did feel something. And that was deeply inconvenient, because I did not want to feel a thing for her.

  Chapter 12

  Ali

  The sun had set, and darkness had settled over the mountain. Galin and I sat with our rucksacks at our feet and our backs against a boulder at the edge of the grass. Faint heat radiated from the rock, built up from the sun hitting it over the course of the day, but otherwise it was freezing cold. My breath clouded every time I exhaled, and my fingers felt like icicles, even though I’d pulled my hands into the sleeves of my leather jacket. I had to grit my teeth to keep from shivering.

  Galin seemed unperturbed by the drop in temperature. So he could feel things—sometimes.

  Just not for me.

  No matter. I didn’t care one bit. I just wasn’t sure I could actually sleep with my mind racing a million miles an hour. And I definitely wasn’t about to admit I was cold.

  Forcing myself not to think about him, I looked up into the night sky, and instead lost myself thinking about the glorious stars beaming above us. Swegde had taught me their names; the shining star he’d called Aurvandil's Toe, and the giant chariot, Karlvagn.

  I pointed to Karlvagn, “Do you know the name of that constellation?”

  “The Big Dipper.”

  I frowned. “I thought it was called Karlvagn.”

  “Oh, it is. The Big Dipper is the name the men of Midgard gave it.” He pointed. “You see the middle star in the handle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anything unusual about it?”

  I studied the star. It did seem a little odd. Blurrier than the others. I squinted. “It’s two stars close together.”

  “That’s right,” said Galin. “I’m pleased you haven’t lost any of your Night Elf eyesight. Men named those stars Mizar and Alcor.”

  “Mizar and Alcor,” I repeated in a whisper.

  “The little one is Alcor. It means ‘forgotten’ in Arabic.”

  There was a long pause in which we both stared at the pair of stars. After growing up in the Shadow Caverns, the night sky would never cease to amaze me.

  As I studied the stars, I had the sense that Galin was looking at me. When I glanced at him, his inky eyes gleamed in the darkness. “You should sleep.”

  What I didn’t say was that it was too cold for sleep, and that even right next to him, I felt completely alone.

  I rolled over anyway, an immense wave of fatigue washing over me. My eyes closed, and I found myself drifting off—dreaming of frozen Midgard. I was walking above the Citadel, my body turning to ice. Teeth chattering, fingers going numb.

  Midgard was completely abandoned now. It was just me, and the dark, winter world stretching out before me. The gods, the elves—everyone had left for another place.

  The cold was going right down to my bones, ice crystallizing in my veins, and I couldn’t stop the shaking—

  Then, my dream shifted. The sun was rising over Midgard, ice starting to melt. My body was thawing. For a moment, I opened my eyes, and I breathed in the scent of wood smoke—felt a powerful body move close, and steely arms wrap around me. A protective inferno of heat warmed me to my very core.

  When I dreamt again, it was of spring.

  “Ali,” Galin whispered sharply. “Wake up.”

  “What—” I didn’t finish as Galin’s hand clamped over my mouth. My eyes snapped open.

  I blinked, trying to focus. It was pitch black. It must have clouded over while I was sleeping, because the stars had disappeared. I peered blearily at my legs, noticing that Galin had placed a blanket on them at some point. Maybe that was why I’d dreamt of warmth.

  That was nice of him, but it didn’t explain why his hand remained latched tightly over my mouth—and my nose, too. I couldn’t freaking breathe.

  “Mmmhhh.” I tried to speak.

  Galin twisted my head to face him. He stared at me, Hela’s shadow magic drifting off him, dark and mysterious. He was suffocating me.

  Adrenalin filled my veins, and a terrible thought slammed into me—what if she’d asked him to assassinate me? She was his goddess. Would he do it? Bury my body under a pile of stone? Tell everyone that I’d fallen off a cliff?

  If he felt nothing for me—would he do that?

  I tried to open my mouth to call Skalei, but of course that didn’t work. His hand was like a muzzle on my lips.

  He shook his head, then a distant howl pierced the darkness, and instantly everything made a terrifying sense. He was trying to silence me, not smother me. I gripped his wrist and pulled it off, gasping for breath.

  “Blooooggaaaahhh …” A second howl cut through the night. Far down the slope of the mountain, but nevertheless unmistakable. Not draugr.

  Worse, much worse—the rumbling cry of a mountain troll.

  “You hear that?” said Galin, finally breaking the silence.

  I nodded stiffly as my heart began to slam against my ribs.

  “We can’t stay here,” he whispered.

  “Portal?”

  “No time.”

  “BBBllooGGoogghh!” The troll’s cry echoed off the rocks, the sound reverberating over my skin.

  Galin stood, and I clambered up. From all the walking we’d done, my legs felt like someone had run a rolling pin all up and down them. My shoulders ached painfully where the straps of my pack had cut into them.

  I hardly noticed.

  Mountain trolls were out there in the darkness. Grotesque, horrifying beasts. I’d nearly been beaten to death by one once. They were literal
ly indestructible—solid stone that even Skalei couldn’t penetrate.

  If they caught us, we’d be ripped limb from limb. Even Galin.

  I reached to pick up my rucksack.

  “No,” said Galin in a sharp whisper. “Leave it.”

  He caught my wrist, pulling me away, towards the scree field. We ran in an all-out sprint over the craggy rocks, heading up towards the cliffs of Mount Steton.

  I tried to be quiet, but the stones kept skittering out from under my feet. My heart squeezed every time I heard clicking and clacking as they bounced down the mountainside.

  My lungs were heaving when we reached the ridge at the top of the scree field. I stopped to catch my breath, and turned to look down. My heart skipped a beat. Next to our campsite was a dark form—not the boulder we’d sat against. Bigger. It had to be a troll. It moved, and I stiffened with fear.

  Not one troll. Three.

  Galin pulled my arm, hastening me to move again. I pumped my arms, my breath ragged in my throat. We ran along the ridgeline, up towards the talus slope. Unlike the rocky scree field, these boulders were big—nearly my height.

  I took the lead then, using my night vision to find the easiest path.

  Galin kept pace behind me, but every now and then I’d hear him brush against a rock in the dark, knees and shins banging into stone. But he didn’t complain, just kept pushing forward.

  Then, while trying to navigate a particularly awkward series of boulders, he fell flat. His head cracked loudly on a rock.

  I ran to him. “Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine,” he said in a husky voice.

  Below us, I could hear the trolls calling to one another in their howling cries, but I couldn’t see them.

  I grabbed Galin’s wrist, somehow pulling him to his feet.

  He stumbled after me as I turned again to the rocky slope. Above us, I saw a line where the jagged stones ended and the night sky began.

  “I don’t think it’s much farther,” I said.