by Everly Frost
We hit a branch, catching the edge of it. Only the eagle’s body stops me breaking my ribs against the wooden limb. The bird twists wildly as it falls, but I manage to hold on, beating my wings and directing us at full speed toward the next branch.
The bird shrieks as we plummet onto the wooden surface, its body beneath mine cushioning the impact. It is stunned for long enough for me to reach for my katana and raise it above my head, ready to end its life.
Lying on its side, one golden eye pins me. It gasps, “Do you know what you plan to kill?”
My chest heaves. We tumbled through space so suddenly, but I was holding my breath the whole time, not wanting to inhale the mist. The eagle is much bigger and more powerful than me. I caught it unawares, but I will only have the upper hand for a moment longer.
With one fist firmly planted on its neck, I shout, “You speak!” Then I shake my head, preparing to drive my sword through its neck. “Of course you speak.”
It says, “But are you listening?”
I halt. My hand shakes around my sword. The rock giant told me I should choose wisely which voices I listen to, and now this creature is asking me to listen.
I say, “You were going to kill me.”
“Was I?”
My eyes narrow, my focus narrowing with them. The mist wafts in again. I don’t know where Slade, Cain, or Archer are and sudden panic floods me.
The eagle asks, “Who are you?”
This time the answer comes quickly. “I’m an assassin. Killing is what I do best.”
“How do you choose who dies?”
I frown. “All my kills are sanctioned.”
“By a Guardian who makes choices for you. What if you were the Guardian? How would you choose?”
I swallow. The Guardian’s choices were never my business. How she made her decisions wasn’t something I had to worry about, but I always trusted her. She was harsh at times, a rule-follower when I hated the rules, but she was a constant, steady force. Reliable. Even formidable.
The eagle peers at me. “It is not so easy anymore, is it?”
This creature isn’t trying to kill me. In fact, it might have been trying to help me. Whatever grabbed Cain might have been about to grab me, too. With a grimace, I release the eagle, stepping back but remaining ready in case it tries anything.
As it rises in slow movements, keeping its eyes on me, I ask, “Who are you?”
“I am Justice.”
“And this place?”
The eagle ruffles its feathers and settles onto the branch. “This is Yggdrasil.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “The World Tree?”
That would explain why the tree is so enormous, but if the myths about the tree are even remotely true, then there are other beasts living in and beneath it—beasts I don’t particularly want to meet, including Nidhogg, the serpent that dwells beneath its roots and gnaws on its foundations.
The eagle says, “Your friends are at the bottom of the tree. They are alive but in danger. I wanted to spare you from what lies beneath, but it seems conflict is in your nature.”
I grit my teeth. “I don’t see good where there could be evil.”
The bird’s eyes fill with sadness. “You distrust even those who love you.”
I swallow again. I distrusted Slade, even Vlad and Cain, and definitely Tansy, but not anymore. “I’m learning… slowly.”
The eagle says, “I only control the sky. I can’t go with you to the ground beneath the tree. Beware of Ratatoskr on your way down. He is malicious and enjoys conflict. He grabbed one of your friends but I don’t think Ratatoskr anticipated your friend’s strength.”
The bird must be talking about Cain. Slade and Archer fell, but Cain was pulled under. If any one of us had a chance against a malicious beast, it is Cain with his ability to see into the heart of things.
The eagle’s eyes twinkle as it spreads its wings. “It is good to know that Malice was defeated for once. Fly now Silver Wings. Your friends need you.”
It takes off, rising into the mist, its wings beating away the cloud cover for a second before it disappears.
I peer into the gloom below, unable to see beyond a few feet, preparing myself to dive once more into the unknown.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I sail through the clearing mist, hundreds, maybe thousands of feet down, the air growing warmer the further I descend. I fly as wide of the branches as I can, keeping my eye out for Ratatoskr, and catch sight of the creature as I pass. The squirrel is hard to miss. Like the eagle, it is massive, its burnished orange fur standing out against the bright green leaves. Its black eyes dart to me, quickly narrowed and unwelcoming. It nurses its side, but it doesn’t appear wounded. It chitters at me. Maybe only its pride.
The further I descend, the more worried I become. I can’t see Slade, Cain, or Archer. The land below is lush and green, a grassy meadow around the base of the tree. The roots twist across the earth, large thick cords that plunge beneath the surface. Nihdogg hides under there. I will need to watch out for him.
I wheel around the trunk, finally spotting the others at the base of the tree on the other side. They stand apart from each other, Archer beside Cain, both of them facing Slade.
As soon as I land and fold away my wings, Cain repositions himself in front of Archer, his posture taking on the appearance of a protective shield.
He urges Archer to back away from me through the rich grass, one hand raised up as if to ward me off, a dangerous warning in his voice. “Stay away from us, Hunter.”
My lips part in surprise. “What? Why?”
I look to Slade whose expression is set in hard lines. A dagger gleams in his hand, raised in a defensive position as he holds his other hand out to me, beckoning urgently. “Hunter, come away from Cain.”
“Why are you both…?” I take glances between them before I plant my hands on my hips, not moving. “What’s going on here?”
Cain’s glare is searing, focused on me with more vehemence than I’ve ever seen. I was just telling the eagle how far I’ve come with trusting people and now I’ve fallen right into the middle of a situation where Cain and Slade are giving off killing vibes. Killing each other vibes.
Cain’s anger is like a whiplash. “Where were you, Hunter? Were you trying to get to the feathers on your own? Were you going to leave the rest of us to die?”
I flinch at the accusation in his voice. “Of course not! I ran into trouble up there. I want a feather for Archer too.”
“You’re a liar, Hunter. You lied about what you are. You lied about why you became an assassin. You’re still lying. You never stop.”
His accusation hits me hard. I stumble toward Slade, my heart squeezing tight in my chest. It’s true that I have lied. Constantly. I justified my actions, believing them necessary, but ever since I fought Amalia at the ball I’ve made it my mission to speak the truth, even when it hurts or endangers me. Cain should know that. As an assassin, he should understand it.
Slade growls from behind me. “Cain only came with us because he wants the chance to kill you, Hunter.”
“What?” I shake my head, vehemently. “That’s not true. Cain would never hurt me.”
I turn back to find Cain breaching the distance between us, his power glowing around him as he strides toward me. His assassin’s ring gleams, its force sparking across the distance as he pulls a dagger from the belt around his chest.
I flinch, my guard flying up. When he first brought Archer to me, Cain was worried and angry, fearful that I would hurt her. I thought I convinced him that I never would, but now the look on his face tells me he has stopped believing she is safe.
But, why? What changed his mind?
Cain growls as he walks, “I will kill you before you kill Archer.”
Slade leaps in front of me, his Valkyrie power washing through him so fast that it makes me gasp. It fills the space around us, forming an instant shield from the Keres power radiating from Cain.
Slade shouts, “I won’t let you hurt Hunter.”
Cain ignores him. “I won’t let Archer die!”
The two men are like electrical currents about to ignite. When Archer’s power and mine touched, we were blown across the room—and that was a small spark. Slade and Cain have released their power at a thousand percent.
My back is to the tree and I have nowhere to go. Off to my right, Archer stumbles away from the fight, her face pale, one palm pressed against her temple, the other pressed against her ear as if she is in pain. Her gaze is unfocused, distant. She staggers but I don’t have time to see what she does next because Cain charges.
“No! Stop!”
My scream is futile. The air explodes, the blast splitting the space around me, knocking me into the tree. My head thumps against it, my lungs compressed, and my spine bashed like a twig. Pain explodes inside my skull and through my back, and the air is knocked from my lungs.
Slade and Cain are blasted apart from each other, tumbling through the grass on opposite sides of me, their daggers flying wide.
Ears ringing, I drop to the ground at the base of the tree, trying to breathe, wanting to scream. Slade rolls to his feet, his forehead bleeding, and races back to me, shouting my name but Cain beats him to me. I duck and roll just in time to avoid Cain’s fist. He hits the tree instead, splintering the bark where my face used to be. He isn’t harnessing his power this time, so I guess he has decided to end me the old-fashioned way.
A voice in the back of my mind whispers: He was always going to kill you. Trusting people only makes you vulnerable.
In the next second, Slade crashes into him, the force of the collision driving Cain away from me. “Get away from Hunter!”
Cain responds with a powerful fist, crunching Slade’s cheekbone. When he follows up with another fist, Slade grabs it, holding tight and pushing back, blood running down his face. The strength between the two men as their hands lock causes their arms to shake, muscles straining as they push against each other. With a final twist, Slade forces Cain’s hand down but Cain retaliates with a boot to Slade’s chest, sending him flying backward again.
With a snarl, Slade releases his wings, powerful currents filling the air as he flies back into the fight. The two men are brutal with each other, every fist, every hit smashing its target. Within seconds, they both spit blood, and they don’t stop.
I clutch my chest, trying to find my voice, my stomach roiling. Amalia asked me who would win in a fight between Slade and Cain and I swore I never wanted to find out. This can’t be happening. Just minutes ago, Slade told me that Cain was like a brother to him. Earlier I saw for myself the trust that Cain placed in Slade.
The whisper in my mind becomes a shout. Trust is worthless, Hunter. You have to kill Cain before he kills you. Help Slade. Help him kill Cain.
I slap my hands over my ears. No.
This isn’t right. None of this is right.
Beyond the fight, Archer drops to her knees in the grass, her hands pressed over her ears as if she, too, is trying to block out… a voice.
The wrong voice.
My heart plummets.
We chose conflict.
Now we’re listening to the voice of our fears.
My thoughts speed up while movement around me slows down.
Blood sprays as Slade slams his fist into Cain’s stomach, the force of his power doubling Cain over. Slade follows up with an uppercut that crunches Cain’s jaw and a boot that sends him sprawling into the grass, Slade’s wings giving him height and strength.
Who will win in a fight between Cain and Slade?
Slade will win… because he is angrier, more brutal, and my power flows through him.
I spin from the fight to the creature sliding beneath the roots of the tree. The serpent’s dark tongue licks the air, its eyes bright with cruelty and its voice loud in my ears: Kill Cain.
My eyes narrow. It’s Nihdogg, the Villain. Whispering into our minds, drawing out our greatest fears, and trying to make us fight and kill each other.
Cain fears that I will kill Archer.
Slade fears that Cain will kill me.
I dropped my backpack when I landed. Now I scramble for it, crying out as my back protests. Oh, please, don’t let anything be broken…
I force myself to reach my bag, crawling through the grass to curl my fingertips around the straps, trying to drag it closer. My katana is strapped to it, so close yet so far…
A heavy weight slides over my feet, pinning me to the ground. I twist to find the serpent slithering over my legs, its massive body covering my calves and thighs, its head softly swaying as it glides closer.
Its face rears up over me. “You have seen my true form,” it says into my mind. “Now you must die.”
I snarl, “Too shy to show your face, is that it?”
One inch at a time, I draw my backpack closer, hoping the beast is too distracted to notice.
“Only someone who has accepted their own death can see me,” it replies. “Someone like that is dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because you know your own strength. You know your own fears. You are willing to die to save the ones you love. You know who you are.” Its mouth widens. “Don’t bother with your sword. No blade can kill me.”
There’s a shout beyond us: it’s Archer’s voice but I can’t make out what she screamed.
Nihdogg’s head shoots up in her direction. Archer is staring wide-eyed at the snake, but she is only paralyzed for a second. She launches herself into a run, sprinting around Slade and Cain, her arms pumping.
I’ve seen this woman kill without mercy and right now, the snake is her target.
Nihdogg hisses, “Golden Wings can see me. She will have to die, too.”
The serpent refocuses on me, its jaws opening so wide it could bite my head off, fangs descending, rearing over me. Within its mouth is an entire world, a place of malice, chaos, pain—and everlasting night.
I say, “You first.”
I whip my hand from my backpack and launch myself upward, thrusting the contents of my fist into the beast’s wide-open mouth and as far down its throat as I can.
The verdan plant disappears inside Nihdogg’s mouth, pot and all.
The serpent jolts backward, its mouth snapping shut in reflex. I pull my hand out just in time before it can break my arm in its closing jaws.
It coughs, chokes, and writhes backward, preparing to spit the plant out, but I harness all my strength and slam my fist upward into its jaw, releasing my wings at the same time to give me momentum.
Crunch. The hit smashes the serpent’s jaw against its upper lip. It lurches back from me, and at the same time Archer crashes into it from the side, leaping under it at just the right angle to punch the verdan from the outside. The resounding crunch tells me she has shattered the pot.
The beast recoils, releasing my legs, spitting pieces of ceramic smothered in crimson sap. It screams, “What did you do?”
I leap away from it, grabbing Archer and drawing her clear of the verdan poison leaking from the serpent’s mouth.
I shout, “Your voice is an instrument of darkness!”
The shield around the verdan only disappears in a place of true darkness—a place where the light never reaches. The serpent’s mouth is such a place.
The snake writhes, convulsing in the grass, trying to escape the pain, but it doesn’t matter how much it roils and rocks, the poison quickly does its work.
The serpent shudders one last time. Its head drops to the ground, its black eyes dull and lifeless. Its final hiss ripples across the clearing and the hateful voice in my mind finally falls silent.
Archer draws close to me, a disgusted curl on her lips. “Its words were murder.”
I nod. “You recognized it.”
Worry enters her eyes. “We need to mend the damage now.”
Nearby, Cain and Slade back away from each other, their chests heaving, their knuckles bloody. Slade wipes his mou
th and Cain tests his jaw. They are both shell-shocked, pacing backward.
Cain stumbles. Archer launches into a sprint, racing toward him.
She arrives in time to grab him as he drops to his knees. She follows him down, supporting his torso while he rests on the grass, his face turned to hers. She strokes the hair out of his eyes, checking his wounds with a worried expression.
I follow closely enough to catch her softly-spoken statement. “You’re hurt, Cain.”
“I’m an idiot is what I am,” he says. “I could have killed Hunter.”
His gaze follows me as I hobble across the grass to Slade. I’m much slower than Archer. There’s no doubt in my mind that my back is bruised, but thankfully not broken. I’m glad the protective suit covers me. I don’t want to see the damage myself, let alone show anyone else.
Slade crosses the distance to reach me first, checking me over with gentle hands—hands that are covered in Cain’s blood.
Slade is healing rapidly, his cheekbone knitting back together and his bruises disappearing, but he knows I can’t heal myself. His voice is an urgent murmur. “Where are you hurt?”
There’s no lying to him. “My back, but I’m moving so that’s a good sign, right?”
He unclasps the side of my suit to peel it off my back and check me over. His silence shouts louder than words, his fingertips careful and gentle as he checks each part of my spine. Returning my suit to its place and clasping it up again, he says, “There’s nothing we can do. You need to rest—”
I shake my head. “We have to keep moving.”
Slade drops his forehead to mine, taking deep breaths. His arms drop to his sides and his wings droop. The misery on his face kills me. “What the hell happened to us?”
I meet Archer’s solemn eyes for a moment, before I say, “We were being manipulated. All of us. The conflict we faced was our own.”
Slade asks, “Manipulated by what?”
Archer and Cain remain kneeling in the grass. Archer tips her head back to study the clear sky, the wispy clouds, and the colossal tree branches, its leaves the size of her torso.