by Gwen Rivers
The ghost nods. “So, she can free you?”
“No. I don’t want anyone else crossing the Veil. The FBI know about us and they won’t hesitate to kill any of us on sight if they can. Midgard is no longer safe.” As an afterthought I add, “Get that message to Freda, too, if you can.”
Nightweaver nods and then fades into the translucent mist that the dead of the Hunt dwell in.
I exhale a moment before footsteps sound from down the hall. The medic. I coil my muscles, ready to pounce. It’s time for me to decline the invitation to stay at Club Fed any longer. Time for me to get back across the Veil. To save my real home and kill my mother.
For good.
When the door opens, I groan theatrically, hoping a show of pain will throw the medic off stride.
“Is it your wounds?” The voice is matter of fact.
I nod, rattling the chains as I grip my stomach. “I think whatever you gave me for the pain is making me sick.”
She moves forward and I prepare to headbutt her when I spy two armed guards at the door. Damn it. This is supposed to be my escape. But even if I knock the medic out, the guards in this place won’t hesitate to shoot me.
Letting out a breath, I settle in to wait for my next opportunity.
With a full belly, Jasmine escorts Aiden into the empty throne room. It smells of fresh-cut wood and green and growing things. A live oak table sits in the center, with the infamous Green Throne situated at the head. Freda is already seated, her winged helmet on the table within easy reach.
“Jazz, go back to our quarters,” Freda says to her daughter.
The nymph looks from her mother to Aiden and then back. “But, Jord—”
“Now.” Freda’s tone brooks no-nonsense.
Jasmine squeezes his hand once and then retreats.
“There you are, lad!” A thunderous voice booms and a beefy palm claps him on the shoulder.
“Thor.” Aiden grins at the god. “I’m surprised to find you still here.”
“I promised your little dumpling I would look after the place. Besides, the food here is some of the best I’ve consumed in recent memory.” The thunderer pulls out a seat and drops into it with enough force to make the hearty wood groan.
No wonder the fey are worried about the food stores. Thor’s appetite is the stuff of legend.
“What happened to you?” Freda turns to face Aiden. “The last we’d heard you were going to help Wardon secure his heir.”
Aiden nods. “Jedda. And the boy was successful. The Gray Throne has a new ruler.” He looks in the direction Jasmine had darted off. “One younger than your daughter.”
Freda’s tone is coated in permafrost as she accuses, “And you left him alone?”
“I sent him across the Veil. I thought he would be safer there.” What he didn’t say is that he’d turned one of the four fey monarchs over to a giantess he’d hated his entire life. Certain details are unimportant and would only cause Freda’s infamous temper to get the best of her.
“I need to see Soladin.”
Freda scowls at him. “Didn’t you know? Soladin rode out with Nic.”
Dread coils in his gut and the wolf lunges for control. If Angrboda had been right Nic had crossed the Veil. Was Soladin with her, taking with him any chance of staving off Aiden’s madness?
“Then who lowered the air shield?” Only one of the four monarchs could command such magic.
“Taj. He’s Soladin’s longtime consort and the new Seelie king.” Freda sucks in a breath. “He won’t be happy to hear that Soladin’s been captured as well. He’ll want to mount a rescue.”
Aiden couldn’t blame the other man. All of his thoughts focused on getting across the Veil to retrieve Nic. “Where’s Seelenverkäufer?” he asks.
“Nic had it with her.”
Aiden shakes his head. Could nothing go right?
They fall silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Off to the side, a fire roars in the massive stone hearth—the antlers of a large animal mounted above it. Aiden recognizes it as the great stag the god Pan slaughtered while he reigned supreme in this court.
A man with dark skin and cat eyes strides into the room. His expression is grim as he approaches the Green Throne. “This is the wolf who burned the dead?”
Freda nods once. “He’s Nic’s….well, he’s Nic’s.” She shrugs as though she doesn’t know how to qualify their relationship.
Instead of sitting, Taj steps forward and offers his hand. “Your mate has told me much of you, Aiden. I am honored to have you here.”
Aiden gets to his feet but before he can take the fey’s hand, there is a stirring within him.
Bloodprice, the wolf whispers. Taj’s male had abducted Nic. Soladin isn’t here but the wolf swore vengeance.
We need him, Aiden tells the beast.
The wolf is poised to tear the Seelie king’s throat out, but at least he doesn’t try to wrestle control away.
Aiden refocuses on the king. “You know Nic?” And she’d told this man she was Aiden’s mate? His heart pounds. He will never tire of having her claim him as her own.
The large male’s eyes gleam. “Not as well as I would have liked. Do you bring news from the other courts?”
“I do, but there’s something I need from you first.” Aiden takes a step forward.
“And that is?” Taj raises one hairless eyebrow.
“The Kiss of Clarity.” Briefly, he describes how Underhill had infected him with madness. “It is the only way I can rejoin my mate.”
Freda tilts her head to the side and he can feel her scrutiny. “You don’t look mad.”
“It’s dormant. One of Underhill’s games. I can’t cross the Veil until it is removed or risk unleashing my wolf to run rabid across Midgard.”
Taj studies his face. “I’ve never bestowed it before. I’m not sure if I even can.”
“You sat on the throne.” Aiden gestures to the branch and leaf seat that thrums with life magic. “You must be able to give the gift of the court.”
“For Nic’s sake, and for the sake of true love everywhere, I will try.” Taj moves forward and takes a deep breath. “Hold very still.”
Aiden does. He doesn’t close his eyes but lifts his chin to receive the kiss. Taj’s lips are soft and gentle on his. A steady pressure. The intimacy of the moment stretches out but there is no pulse of magic. Aiden closes his eyes in frustration. Worry courses through him. What if it doesn’t work? What if he can’t cross the Veil? Nic’s been banished.
I might never see her again.
A single tear tracks down his face and lands on their joined lips.
Suddenly there is a brilliant flash. Power radiates from Taj’s body and floods into his own. A sharp pain stabs into his mind but as quickly as it came, it dissolves.
“Did it work?” Taj asks.
Aiden hesitates and searches his thoughts. Smooth, clear, focused. The wolf too seems on point.
“Well, that was an interesting spectacle.” Says a familiar voice, peppered with Latin spice. “Too bad our queen missed it.”
Aiden pulls away and turns to the seer, Harmony Goldfeather. The purple-skinned fey tosses him a wink. “Two royal consorts necking in the throne room. The end of the worlds must be at hand.”
“Watch your tone, slag,” Freda barks. Aiden is surprised that the First would bother. Of course, the leader of the Wild Hunt is eternally loyal to his mate.
As loyal as he himself.
It’s done. The wolf rises again. Bloodprice.
No. Aiden thinks. We must get to her.
Again the beast crouches. It wants Nic more than it wants vengeance. It helps that Soladin isn’t here and that Taj isn’t a threat. Aiden needs to get out of here and away from the new Lord of the Land.
“Where is the nearest in-between.” Aiden turns to Freda. “Or how far is the tear in the Veil? I need to get over there immediately.”
“Slow down, lad.” Thor holds out a hand. “What’s wrong?”
>
“Everything.” Having his mind cleansed lifts one weight from his shoulders but there are so many others. Against his wishes, he sinks back into the chair.
“Our queen is in mortal custody.” Harmony takes the chair on the opposite side of the table from Freda.
“You saw this?” Freda inquires.
As a seer, Harmony has visions of events before they occur. Their abilities are so rare that seers often rise to the highest ranks of the courts.
Harmony bobs her head. “I did. She was betrayed and in turn captured by a special unit of federal agents.” Her lips curl up as she turns to face Aiden. “And she just received some very interesting news.”
Aiden doesn’t give a damn about the news. “Is she hurt?”
“She’s been shot twice but is healing.”
Pain pierces his heart. The mortals shot her.
We’ll shred them to ribbons, the wolf vows.
“Mostly, she’s worried about what is happening here. With you.” The seer holds his gaze. “If her mother has captured you yet.”
Aiden shakes his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m nothing to the Unseelie or Underhill for that matter. Why would she want me?”
“The prophesy.” Harmony whispers.
He frowns. “What prophesy?”
Her eerie gaze is transfixed on him but he gets the feeling she is looking through him to something he cannot see. “Ragnarök. Once Loki has been freed, the end is unavoidable.”
Even Thor appears uncomfortable with that.
The prophecy of Ragnarök—the end of the worlds. Aiden knows it well. “What does that have to do with me?”
Harmony’s dark gaze meets his. “Underhill intends to free your father and hasten the end.”
His lips part. “How?”
Her expression is somber. “The gods used your brother’s intestines to create the trickster’s bindings so he is held by his own blood. They need your bones to break them.”
A shudder travels through him. “And once he’s free he can unleash Fenrir.” The wolf who will swallow the world. His half-brother.
“Fenrir rules from the Shadow Throne,” A sibilant voice says.
Aiden turns and spies a ghost hovering in the doorway. Taj’s guards draw their fey blades but the king holds out one hand to stay them.
“What do you want, Valkyrie?” Taj asks.
At the same time, Freda narrows her eyes. “Nightweaver.”
“I come on behalf of she who was queen.” Her gaze rests on Aiden. “I was just with her across the Veil.”
His heart pounds. Nic. “How does she fare?”
“She is intact,” the ghost says, making all the hackles rise along his spine. “Her message is for the First. She bids that no one cross in an attempt to save her.”
Freda frowns. “What? Why?”
The ghost drifts farther into the room until she is situated above the table, her transparent form like an untethered balloon. “She has been captured by mortals.”
“Tell me where she is.” He’d find a way across even if he needed to tear the Veil himself.
The first shakes her head. “Did you not hear the part about how she doesn’t want rescue, wolf?”
He meets Freda’s stare. “I am her lover, not her soldier. I go where I will.” Nic saw to that.
Freda smiles. It’s gone in an instant but he saw it. “Fine, but if we can’t cross to Midgard, where shall we go? Without you and the dead of the Hunt to protect it, this stronghold will fall.”
Harmony steps forward. “We need to evacuate these people. Without Nic’s barrier, we’re all sitting ducks here.”
“Where can we go?” Taj asks. “Where is safe?”
“The lands of the Vanir.” Aiden breathes. “There is a portal, two days walk from here. It will take you to their world.”
“It’s forbidden.” Thor’s face is stern. “The gods exiled the fey.”
Aiden turns to face the Asgardian. “Better to court the wrath of the gods than stand against the dead. Help us, Uncle. Plead a case for the fey.”
Thor shifts and then nods. “For you, Váli, I will try.” There is a clap of thunder and then light explodes through the room. When it dissipates, the thunderer’s chair sits empty.
“Organize the evacuation,” Aiden tells Freda. For once, the First doesn’t argue.
“And you won’t come with us?” The Seelie king asks.
Aiden shakes his head. “I need to get to Nic. I will retrieve her and we will meet up with you as soon as we free the others.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Freda says. “You don’t know what you will face over there.”
“Worried for me, First? I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t.” As a turned mortal, Freda can’t lie, as she proves by adding, “But my daughter does. And you stand the best chance of freeing Nic and getting her back on the throne where she belongs.”
“Nic wouldn’t want me to risk anyone else. She would want you to see these people safe.”
“What will you need for your journey?” Taj asks.
“Perhaps some more food.” It would save him time if he didn’t have to stop and hunt.
“I’ll take him to the kitchens,” Harmony offers.
“Good luck, wolf.” Freda holds his gaze a moment and then turns to make plans with the Seelie king.
Harmony is already on her feet. Aiden follows the seer through the wooden hallways, past a giant tree and down stone steps into a bustling kitchen.
The grumpy old cook is nowhere in sight. At least Aiden won’t have to argue with the fey over what he is taking. He hunts for some sort of satchel to carry his haul and settles on a nearly empty potato sack.
“Why didn’t you tell them about Angrboda’s suggestion?” Harmony asks as he lays out the food. Cooked chicken and ham, three varieties of cheese, fresh fruit and vegetables. It’s enough to feed a fey army.
Or one hungry wolf.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Something about Harmony unnerves him. She can’t lie any more than Freda, but the seer has a nasty habit of not sharing vital information until it suits her.
She tilts her head to the side, her expression inscrutable. “I think you do. The giantess intimated that Nic could still rule in the Unseelie Court.”
“You mean by claiming the Fire Throne?” He shakes his head. “Her magic is based on air. She can’t wield flames. The magic of the throne would destroy her.”
“So that’s it then?” The seer studies his face. “You’re just going to walk away and let the worlds burn?”
“Ragnarök is unavoidable.”
“But it doesn’t have to be now. Loki isn’t free yet.” Her lip curls up in a snarl of contempt. “You just don’t want to risk your precious mate.”
A warning growl echoes in his chest. “You’re right, I don’t. If Nic really wants the Fire Throne, I will help her obtain it. But I’m not going to force her to face off against her mother and Fenrir, never mind an army of the dead, just to see her burned to ash by that bloody fey chair.”
“So that’s it then.” Her face falls. Is the seer disappointed in him?
“What would you have me do?”
“Remind her of her promise. She told Freya she would kill Underhill.”
Aiden steps closer to her. “I won’t pressure her. Nic makes her own choices.”
“And what of you?” Harmony’s chin juts up. “When will you start making your own decisions?”
“I owe Nic my allegiance, not the Unseelie Court.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, Harmony. You’re better off without my assistance. Nothing good comes from my bloodline. Nothing.”
Harmony’s lips part as though she is about to say something, then she shakes her head. “I’ll leave you to pack. There’s a room down the hall that’s empty. I’ll have the servants draw you a bath.”
“There isn’t time—,” he protests but she holds up one hand, cutting him off.
“Freshen u
p for your journey, while I find you some real clothing. Better than drawing mortal notice.”
It’s easier to acquiesce than to argue. Besides who knows when his next bath might be? “Thank you.”
After securing as much as he can carry that won’t spoil, he cinches his bag and totes the bundle to the room Harmony had indicated. The door is ajar and he steps through.
The smooth wooden tub sits along the far wall. Steam curls enticingly from the water. There must be some sort of herb mixture within. He can smell rosemary and lavender and something else he doesn’t recognize. It is familiar though. A servant must have just filled it. Setting his food down on a low table, he strips off the tattered clothing Jasmine pinched for him and sinks down into the warm water.
He lays his head back and sighs in pleasure. His lids are heavy. How long since he last slept?
No time. The wolf argues. But the animal’s voice is distant. His lids slide closed as he breathes in the perfumed water.
When his eyes open, he’s in another place entirely. White marble, ornate gilt. Even the tub itself is different.
And he isn’t alone.
“Hello, Váli,” Freya’s hands wrap around him from behind. “You’ve come back to me at last.”
Friends and Foes
Days pass and I’m beginning to give up hope that I will have an opportunity to escape. It’s not just because I’m incarcerated—a fact that sets my teeth on edge. Part of the problem is that I have nowhere to run. Undoubtedly the feds made sure all of my finances are frozen. With no magic and no safe haven, escape will only delay the inevitable.
Of course, there is the possibility of going back across the Veil—death sentence or no. Underhill can’t kill me if she can’t catch me.
Nightweaver returns in intermittent intervals, passing messages back and forth across the Veil. If not for her to talk to, I would go insane.
The Valkyrie’s reports are grim. The dead are everywhere and the few fey remaining are evacuating to the Vanir lands. Worst of all is when she tells me Aiden has vanished.
“What do you mean he disappeared? Did he cross the Veil?” My heart thunders against my ribs. Maybe my wolf is on his way to come to save me even now.