Shadow Empress (Night Elves Trilogy Book 3)

by C. N. Crawford

  Galin frowned. “What is it? You have taken something from Odin?”

  Gondul tossed her braid behind her shoulder. “Open it. Where is your sense of adventure?”

  Galin stared at the case for a long minute. Then, in a swift and fluid move, he unclasped the lid. As he did, a horrible shriek filled the room. Galin stepped back, shielding me with his arm.

  It took me one horrifying moment to realize what it was—a severed head, matted with blood, shrieking into the air.

  What the fuck?

  “Is this some sort of joke?” I said. Was this what Odin had become?

  “No,” said Galin. He leaned down, staring into the eyes of the head. “Mimir?”

  I frowned. The name seemed vaguely familiar.

  “What?” the head grunted.

  “You know who this is?” I asked.

  Galin nodded, not taking his eyes off the head. “We’re interested in going to Mimisbrunnr. Can you tell us how to get there?”

  “No,” said the head.

  “Oi!” interrupted Gondul, “Tell the handsome sorcerer where to go, or I’ll let the girls play soccer with you again.”

  Mimir’s features contorted into an expression of abject terror. “No, not that.”

  “Remember how Hildr made you listen to her talk for hours about her recurring dream of being a cat? And the one about mushrooms? No one else will listen to her.”

  “Please no! It just kept going. I can’t get away. I have no legs.”

  “Then tell the sorcerer what he wants to know,” said Gondul through clenched teeth.

  Mimir’s eyes flicked back to Galin. He began to speak quickly. “You can find Mimisbrunnr in the roots of Yggdrasill—”

  “We’ve looked there,” I cut in.

  “Did you bring Gjallarhorn?” he asked quickly.

  I was thoroughly confused at this point. Mimir, Gjallarhorn?

  “No,” said Galin.

  “Well, you need to blow the horn to reveal the well,” Mimir shouted.

  Galin leaned over and fixed Mimir with his dark gaze. “Where can we find Gjallarhorn?”

  Mimir’s eyes flicked to Gondul, but he didn’t answer.

  Galin whirled. “You know where it is? You vowed to help us find Mimisbrunnr.”

  Gondul sighed, obviously annoyed. “One moment.”

  Without another word, she disappeared from the room.

  Galin, the head, and I were left alone.

  I stared at the head, finding myself moving closer. At last my curiosity was too much. “Your name is Mimir?”

  The head blinked.

  “I recognize the name,” I continued, “but I can’t remember where—”

  “I worked for Odin,” Mimir grumbled.

  I didn’t understand why he was so tetchy. We’d just released him from a suitcase. I’d have thought it would have been pretty unpleasant to be kept in a box for who knew how many years.

  “As a head?” I asked. “What did you do for him?”

  “I was decapitated by my enemies, but Odin revived me.”

  “And Mimisbrunnr is named after you?”

  “Yes,” croaked the head. “I was the pool’s guardian when I had a body.”

  I nodded. Oh, this makes a lot more sense now.

  Mimir’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you wish to visit the well?”

  “To drink from it,” Galin said.

  Mimir’s eyes widened. “You know that such knowledge comes at a cost. Odin lost his eye, I lost my entire body.”

  I did not know that.

  Galin shook his head. “I have no other choice. I am willing to accept whatever penalty I must pay—”

  At that moment, the door to Odin’s apartment burst open, and Gondul returned with Hildr in tow. Hildr rushed into the room, her face flushed with excitement. “Mimi! My dearest friend.”

  “Don’t leave me alone with her!” shouted Mimir frantically.

  “You’re such a good listener, Mimi.”

  “I have somewhere else to be right now—” continued Mimir.

  “I had a dream about a herd of cows,” she began. “But then they were not cows at the same time. They were cows, but not cows—”

  “Hildr,” Gondul barked, pointing at Galin. “You need to give this man your drinking horn.”

  “It’s my horn.”

  Gondul’s schoolmarm voice returned. “Give him the horn, or I’ll put Mimir away.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, Hildr passed her horn to Galin. Then she snatched Mimir from the bed, and ran with him from the room.

  Chapter 26

  Galin

  For the second time in as many days, we flew above the roots of Yggdrasill. I tried to concentrate on flying, and not on the feel of Ali’s legs pressed against mine, or her arms wrapped around my waist. Or how she’d looked in that red underwear …

  I had to concentrate on the flying.

  After Hildr left, I’d managed to call a portal, and we travelled to the Citadel in Midgard. From there, we took a moth, and soared back into the Well of Wyrd.

  I had Gjallarhorn at my hip, but I didn’t reach for it yet. As we flew, I scribed sowilo, directing the glowing spell to fly along with us.

  We soared over roots that twined together, glistening in the dark.

  “Galin,” whispered Ali, “are you ready?”

  I nodded, finally reaching for Gjallarhorn. It was a ram’s horn rimmed with gold. Runes I didn’t recognize were carved into the sides. If I had more time I would have studied it, learned its secrets. I could sense ancient gods’ magic within it—also a great deal of stale mead.

  What had Hildr been thinking, using this relic as a beer cup? Criminal.

  I shook out the last drops, then used my thumb to pop a cork out of the mouthpiece. Drawing in a breath, I blew, the air buzzing between my lips. The sound started small, like a bugle or a trumpet. Then it grew, louder and louder. I ran out of breath, but the horn kept sounding.

  Ali withdrew one of her arms from around my waist, and pointed to the roots below. They’d begun to twist and move like a nest of serpents, intertwining and coiling upon themselves. Holding the sounding horn with one hand, I used my other to guide the moth lower. We swooped just above the writhing roots.

  “There,” Ali shouted over the noise of the horn.

  In the dim light my eyesight was not as sharp as hers, but I could just make out the mouth of a cave.

  Pulling its antennae, I directed the moth downward and into the opening. Powerful magic washed over me as we crossed inside, a deep thrumming that seemed to hum in my heart and bones.

  “What is that?” whispered Ali.

  “Magic.” I guided us into the cave—an enormous cavern of wood, easy to navigate—the walls glowing with faint silver light.

  As we descended, dark magic swirled around us, until I could no longer see where we were going. “I need to set it down. We can walk from here.” Through the haze, I guided the moth down to the roots.

  I dismounted, and Ali slipped off after me. I swayed for a moment before I got my bearings, like a sailor stepping from a ship to dry land.

  “Galin,” Ali said, “what about what Mimir said? That there are consequences to drinking the water?”

  “I don’t think we have a choice, Ali. We don’t know how else to defeat the draugr. Better to lose an eye or a hand than to lose all nine realms.”

  She shot me a nervous look. “But I wish it didn’t have to be you.”

  “This is my responsibility to fix.”

  “I don’t like it,” she said quietly.

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  She shook her head. “I wish I did.”

  Around us the walls of the cave began to narrow. Small mushrooms, glowing faintly in the gloom, now dotted the root bark. They gave off a warm light.

  “Foxfire,” said Ali, studying the fungi. “Very rare. I saw them only once or twice in the Shadow Caverns.”

  We followed the mushrooms round the great coils of
Yggdrasill’s roots. A narrow path carved between them. As we made our way deeper, the cave began to fill with the sound of dripping water, echoing off the walls.

  Ali’s hand brushed against my arm. “We must be getting close.”

  I nodded. We rounded a gnarled root, and I saw that the cave ended with a strange formation of wood in the ground—a perfectly circular hole not far from us, about thirty feet wide. Roots ringed the edges and climbed down the walls.

  My breath caught. Mimisbrunnr.

  What I had initially thought was empty was actually filled with water. It was just that the liquid was so perfectly still and clear that it looked black. I only realized it was there when a drop of water from the cave’s ceiling sent ripples racing across its surface.

  “Do you see it?” whispered Ali.

  I nodded. As we neared the well, I studied the roots at the edge of the water. The magic thrummed so strongly I could hear it.

  Was the well the source of Yggdrasill’s magic, or was Yggdrasill the source of the well’s magic? Or did they feed each other?

  I stood at the edge with an overwhelming mix of relief and foreboding. On the one hand, I was ready to learn how to escape Hel and defeat the draugr. On the other, I knew it was going to require a terrible sacrifice. Yet I would do anything to protect the nine realms.

  I looked into the depths, half expecting to see the answers reflected there, but the crystal-clear water only revealed Yggdrasill’s roots under the surface.

  “Galin, look.” Ali pointed to a large granite boulder, one of the few right at the water’s edge. “I think this is what you’re supposed to drink from.”

  I followed her onto the boulder. It extended a few feet into the water, creating a small platform. One end of a silver rod had been hammered into the rock, while the other end curled into a sort of hook. A silver teacup hung from the hook.

  My throat still burned from the dragon blood, so I wasn’t speaking much. Instead, I knelt and took the cup in my hand, then dipped it into the pool. As the water brushed my knuckles, I sucked in a short breath. I’d never felt anything so cold.

  Holding my breath, I lifted the cup. Mimisbrunnr’s water shimmered within it. It was strange to think this cup contained all the answers. How to defeat the draugr. How to free Hela so she would open the gates to Hel, willingly. Perhaps a new fate.

  Ali’s hand shot out, and she touched my arm, a fierce expression in her silver eyes. “I don’t think you should do this.”

  “So you care for me then? Even without the mating bond.”

  “Yes. And I don’t want your legs to fall off or something.”

  “Neither do I.” And yet, it was my job to fix this.

  Dread shivered up my spine when I looked into the cup again. I realized, with a shock, that I was still holding out a glimmer of hope for Ali. And I didn’t want to lose that chance with her by turning into a severed head like Mimir.

  But I’d come this far to stop the draugr, and warriors like me didn’t have the luxury of finding a more comfortable plan.

  “Wait.” As she reached for my arm again, I lifted the cup and drank. The water touched my lips, sliding down my throat, glacial.

  I tried to inhale, but my lungs had completely frozen. Again, I tried to inhale. Nothing.

  I gripped my throat, even as a chill spread from my stomach. Out my arms, down my legs. My vision wavered. Distantly, I heard Ali calling my name.

  My mind swarmed with shadows, suffocating darkness. Disorienting.

  Then—I began to see things.

  A glimmer in the depths. Slowly brightening, reddening, hot red blood washed over me. Cries of dying warriors rose up around me, the harsh voice of a raven squawking, the screaming of children, the iron clang of swords, the crowing of a rooster, growing louder, louder, changing, morphing into a deep bestial howling.

  Fear gripped my heart. I’d seen this before, heard these sounds. A thousand years ago when the gods died, when the world was plunged into despair, when Ragnarok froze the earth. When I lost my soul, was cursed and imprisoned, when all hope was lost. When meaning was buried under an icy earth.

  And I didn’t find a glimmer of hope again until I met Ali, a bright spark in the darkness, our souls twined together. For a time.

  My heart slammed in my chest as a creature moved in the darkness. I was spun around. The terrible howling filled the void. A massive jaw slammed shut around me, trapping me in its teeth, and just as I was swallowed, I realized it was Fenrir. The great wolf who heralded the beginning of Ragnarok.

  In the great beast’s stomach, ice-cold water filled me entirely. I couldn’t move. I only sank, deeper and deeper. This was the end, I realized. No mortal should drink the water of Mimisbrunnr. I had paid the price for knowledge, and it was with my life. And all I wanted was to tell Ali that I still loved her.

  Then a strong hand pulled me from the water. I gasped, finally drawing in breath. Rejoicing as my lungs filled with warm air.

  I gasped, coughing out the last of Mimisbrunnr’s water onto the rock. Then, I straightened.

  “Galin?” said a deep voice.

  I twisted round, confused. Instead of Ali, a large man stood over me. He wore silver chainmail, and a gleaming sword hung at his hip. A thick hood hid his face, except one bright blue eye, like a sapphire caught in a sunbeam.

  “Odin,” I rasped. “But you’re dead.

  “So I am.” The King of the Gods’ voice resonated through my entire body like powerful magic. “But part of my soul remains in these waters.”

  He took a step closer. “You have something you wish to know.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you accept the price?”

  Ice spread through my chest. I was going to learn what I needed to know, but I would pay for it dearly.

  “I accept the price.”

  “What is it you wish to know?”

  “Hela has closed the gates to Hel. The dead are ravaging the lands of the living. There’s a draugr horde threatening Vanaheim and Midgard. Hela refuses to stop this. How do I stop them?”

  Odin’s blue eye blinked slowly. “To defeat the draugr, you need Surtr’s sword.”

  This was not what I wanted to hear. “Surtr the fire giant? King of Muspelheim?”

  He inclined his head. “Yes. I will tell you how to defeat him.”

  Odin drew a small piece of parchment from under his chainmail and showed it to me. I sucked in a short breath as I looked at the runes scrawled on the page—a new spell, one I’d never seen before.

  “I see,” I whispered, reading them. “That would work.”

  “Once you have the sword you can use it to destroy the draugr.”

  He began to turn away from me.

  “Wait,” I said quickly. “This will only happen again unless Hela gets what she wants. She wants to be free of Hel. How can she break down the walls?”

  “Surtr’s sword is the only thing that can pierce the iron walls that surround Hel. Carve a hole in the wall. But know if you do that, the souls of the dead will overwhelm the lands of the living. All the mortals will perish.”

  “So there is no way to save them?”

  Odin’s sapphire eye swept down to the runes on my chest. “Tell Hela you failed. Remain in Hel. Live for eternity as the consort of a goddess? You’ll have power, immeasurable magic.”

  I shook my head. “Are you certain there is no other way?”

  Odin paused, running a hand through his beard.

  “There is, but it is difficult. If you fail, all will be lost.”

  Hope thrilled within me. “Tell me.”

  “Reverse Ragnarok. Bring back the gods.”

  I stared at him. This was tempting. I wanted the gods alive again, to reverse Ragnarok. The world thriving with spring, with life—with the magic of the gods. And yet … it hadn’t gone well when I raised Hela. This could have unforeseen consequences.

  “You have already raised a goddess,” Odin went on. “You must do the same for the rest of u
s. You’ve seen where our bones lie in Asgard. Cast that spell there, and we will rise again. This is the only way.”

  And with that, he began to fade, slipping into the shadows until only his blue eye remained. Then he was gone.

  “Galin.” Ali’s voice sounded distant. “Galin?”

  I cracked open my eyes. I was freezing cold, lying on the granite boulder, Mimisbrunnr’s icy water only inches away. Ali crouched next to me, one of her hands pressed on my bare chest.

  “Are you all right?” She scanned me from top to bottom. “It doesn’t look like you lost anything.”

  I nodded weakly. Now that the vision had faded, exhaustion remained, and I felt chilled to the bone.

  Ali’s beautiful silver eyes filled with hope. “And you know about the draugr? You know how to get rid of them.”

  I nodded again. Relief spread over her face, and without saying a word she hugged me. “Thank you Galin.”

  I breathed in her scent, enjoying the feel of her warmth next to me.

  When she pulled away, I sat up. “Ali, it’s not going to be easy.”

  Except when I tried to speak, no sound came out of my mouth. I tried again. “It’s not going to be easy.”

  Silence—just the rushing of breath from my mouth.

  Fear clawed at my heart. Something was wrong. I could not make a sound.

  Ali stared at me. “Galin, are you all right?”

  My heart was a wild beast. If I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use magic. I tried to just say Ali’s name. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Grimacing, I spat, expecting blood, but instead a fine black dust escaped my lips.

  She touched the side of my face. “You can’t speak?”

  I nodded, then dipped my finger in Mimisbrunnr’s icy water. I traced on the granite a pair of words: “Price paid.”

  Disappointment crushed my chest, but I couldn’t say I was surprised. Odin had lost an eye, Mimir had lost his body. It made sense that I was to lose the thing that defined my existence.

  By taking my voice, Mimisbrunnr had also stolen my magic.

  Chapter 27

  Ali

  I stared, watching as Galin pulled off pieces of Yggdrasill’s bark, not understanding what he was doing. He spent a few minutes crushing up the foxfire fungus into a sort of pulp, then filled Hildr’s horn with the glowing juice.