The Unyielding

by Shelly Laurenston

  Erin briefly debated lying, but she knew there was no purpose. Not with this one. “Did you translate the runes for her?”

  “If I had, you’d have been dead hours ago. The runes on these weapons and the runes on your bodies spell out exactly what you are and those you both worship. Very foolish.”

  “We don’t normally shy away from conflict.”

  “Except now. Not that I blame you. The princess has a rather unhealthy lust for gameplay. And her games are not to everyone’s tastes. I’m sure they won’t be to yours.”

  “Are they to yours?”

  The elf carefully placed the blade back on the table, taking a moment to align it with the others. His care was obsessive.

  Obsessives were the most fun.

  “Used to be. Long time ago. Most of us age and change. She does not.” With the blades perfectly lined up, he gestured to the walls around them. “Does this seem like the kind of place for elves like the princess?”

  Erin smirked. “No. It doesn’t.”

  “That’s because a few centuries ago, this was dark elf territory. You are in what was once Svartalfheim.”

  “I thought we were in Alfheim.”

  “No, no. The entrance into Alfheim from Jotunheim was closed off long ago by the elves. They feared the giants coming in and stomping them to death. We’re immortal, but not that immortal.”

  “You don’t seem to fit here, either,” Erin noted.

  “Unlike the princess, I fit nowhere. My mother was of Svartalfheim, my father of Alfheim, which means I have no true home.”

  “I get that. My mother’s Jewish, my father’s Catholic, but both are more agnostic, which made my bat mitzvah slash confirmation quite the event with the rest of my über-religious families.” She shrugged. “Cops were called before the night was out.”

  The elf smiled and she saw fangs. Neither the princess nor her entourage had fangs.

  “What would make a human such as you and your friend”—he nodded toward a still-silent Stieg—“attempt a trek through this territory?”

  “I’m on a quest and I’m running out of time.”

  “A quest for what?”

  Hedging, Erin replied, “I need to stop the goddess Gullveig from starting Ragnarok.”

  He snorted. “Gullveig? I remember her. She is . . . a problem for you and your precious Aesir gods. She loathes all of them for what they did to her.”

  “I know. That’s why I don’t have time to sit around here, playing games with your princess.”

  The elf turned away, moving to another table. “She’s not my princess. No one is my anything.”

  “We can’t stay here,” Erin calmly insisted.

  He faced her again. “You act like you have a choice. She’s not going to let you go. You and your oversized friend are her entertainment. She plans to use you for as long as she can.”

  “And when we’re no longer entertaining?”

  “How do you people put it? Ah, yes . . . she’ll throw you to the wolves. Literally. The forest is filled with wolves.”

  Erin looked at Stieg and he nodded, agreeing with her. They’d gotten really good at communicating with each other without saying a word.

  She walked over to the elf, leaned against his table. “What’s your name?”

  “Dualtach the Witch.”

  “Well, Dualtach the Witch, tell me what we can do in a short amount of time to become less entertaining.”

  The elf gazed down at Erin, his eyes searching every part of her face. She didn’t turn away; she waited. Patiently.

  He eventually moved to another window and stared out into the darkness. She couldn’t tell if he was contemplating her request or if he saw something. Or more important, if he saw something. The mystical shit.

  Whatever it was, he finally told her, “Take your weapons, hide them on your person, and go back to your room. And if I were you, I’d go very quickly.”

  Erin didn’t know how to read that, but she grabbed her weapons and put them on under her clothes. The only two things she couldn’t find . . . “I need the hand and the map.”

  “Be careful,” he said, still staring out the window and ignoring her request, “on your way back. The walls have eyes here.”

  Stieg touched her arm and gestured to the window they’d used to get in. Realizing she didn’t have any other choice, Erin went.

  Before she could climb out, the witch said to her, “You are very calm for a human. I strongly suggest you keep that up. The less you give the princess, the more . . . spontaneous she will be. It could work in your favor.”

  Erin nodded at his recommendation, and climbed out the window first. Stieg followed and down they went to the bedroom they’d been given.

  Once back in their room, they sat down on the bed, side by side, their thighs touching. After several minutes of silence, they looked at each other. Looked away. Looked at each other. Looked away. Looked . . .

  Stieg abruptly stood and went to the head of the bed. He placed his hand against the wall and moving slowly, he walked from the bed all the way down the length of the room, perpendicular to the wall, his hand dragging along the stone. When he reached the end, he began to do the same to the next wall—the wall that faced the bed they were to share. He suddenly stopped, his head twitching the slightest bit. Balling up his fist, he rammed it into the wall.

  Erin watched, fascinated, as he pummeled the stone into submission with both hands, putting a sizable hole into it. He shook out his battered fists before digging his right hand into the hole.

  When he looked back at Erin—she knew.

  * * *

  She charged over to Stieg’s side, waiting until he’d managed to get the elf male watching them halfway out of the hole. She grabbed the elf by his finery and together they dragged him out and slammed him to the ground.

  When the elf witch had warned them that the walls have eyes, Stieg had thought he meant the other elves would rat them out if they found them roaming the halls. But as he and Erin had sat on the bed, silently trying to figure out what to do next, they’d sensed—as only humans with the instincts of birds can—that they were no longer alone. That they were being watched.

  For entertainment. Just as Dualtach had said. And what’s the best entertainment for adults? A human sex show.

  The thought clearly irritated Erin, considering the way she was stomping the elf into the cold stone floor. She was a little thing, but those legs of hers—after years of gymnastics and ballet training—were mighty.

  She kicked the elf in the head a few times until she was sure he was unconscious. Then she looked up at Stieg . . . and smiled.

  They grabbed the elf again and lifted him to his feet, dragging him across the floor until they reached what was quickly becoming their favorite window. With a hearty grunt, they flipped him up and over and out the open window.

  Unfortunately for the elf, he woke up in time to realize what was happening, his screams echoing off the walls as he fell and fell . . . until the screaming was brutally cut short.

  Erin cringed a bit. “That had to hurt.”

  In the distance, they could hear the calls of the guards and screams of horror from the royals.

  Stieg and Erin sat down to wait.

  It took almost ten minutes before the bedroom door slammed open and the guards flowed in, followed by a seething princess. She wore a very thin nightshirt that hid nothing—she might as well have been naked—and her several feet of blondish-brown hair appeared artfully tousled.

  Erin leaned over and whispered, “Bet she was hooking up with her brother.”

  Disgusted, Stieg pushed her face away. The woman had been binge-watching too many cable shows.

  The princess stalked up to them. “Can’t you two just do what you would normally do anyway? Like good little pets. Must you make things so difficult? Just”—she waved at them—“perform!”

  Stieg exchanged a glance with Erin. Her smile was so intense, he actually saw her dimples.

&nbs
p; Then, without warning, Erin backhanded the princess into the pit fire, nearly setting the She-elf on fire.

  The guards were on them in seconds, dragging Stieg to his knees, putting a thick chain around his throat and metal cuffs on his wrists. They did the same to Erin but didn’t make her get on her knees.

  The princess was helped up by her guards, who patted her down to put out the smattering of flames.

  Pushing the guards off, she moved to stand before the prisoners and leaned in close to Erin, her voice no longer soft and alluring as it had been, but hard as glass. “Don’t worry, human. I have a game that you can’t help but play.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Erin wanted nothing more than to unleash her wings and kill everyone, but she knew it wasn’t the right time yet. She was going on instinct here and more than once, her instincts had been wrong. Like when she didn’t think Tommy Boy would kill her if she moved to Los Angeles. She’d been wrong about that.

  She could be wrong now.

  But ever since becoming a Crow, she’d forced herself to start trusting her instincts again. So she’d wait until the time seemed right and hope that the plan didn’t get her and Stieg killed.

  The guards took them deep into the bowels of the castle. Thankfully, the hallways were well lit. She wasn’t in the mood for the dark lighting of a fantasy movie where everyone died.

  The problem was that the light showed the remnants of others who’d been there before. Some were just mounted heads. There were even a few sets of wings. Ravens, Crows, and even Protectors.

  The group turned a corner and stopped in front of a long row of cells. They appeared empty. Although the light didn’t reach all the way into the back of each cell. One of the guards opened a cell and shoved Erin inside. She assumed Stieg would be thrown into the next cell but that didn’t happen.

  Instead the princess growled, “I really want you to meet your new neighbor.”

  She came from the shadows of the other cell, throwing herself against the bars. A Svartalfheim She-elf who’d been turned into a psychotic wild animal. Scars covered her dark elf skin and bald patches showed on her scalp where someone had ripped the hair out. Old and fresh blood was everywhere. On her. On her cell.

  The She-elf raged and screamed, completely incoherent.

  All Erin could do was stand there and watch. She was grateful for the bars between them since her hands weren’t free. She still had her weapons—the guards hadn’t bothered to recheck—but she couldn’t reach any of them so it didn’t really matter. And what was that smell? Was that the remains of those killed before her or just the general funk one finds in dungeons and New Jersey prisons? How long would she have to deal with that smell? How long would she be trapped in this jail with the crazy elf?

  “Hey!” the princess yelled, startling Erin.

  “What?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Standing here. What should I be doing?”

  “Recoiling in fear?”

  “Oh. Right.” Erin looked at the crazed She-elf still trying to reach her through the bars and let out a less-than-enthused “Aaah.” She turned back to the princess. “Like that, you mean?”

  “Worthless human!” She pointed a finger at Erin. “When you’re in the pit, you better give a much better performance.”

  Erin smirked. “Oh. I promise.”

  With a flip of her hair, the princess stormed off, taking her entourage and Stieg with her.

  “Wait!” Erin called out, moving closer to the front bars. “Where the fuck are you going with him?”

  The princess said nothing, just kept moving.

  But her brother stopped and gazed down at Erin. “Now I see fear,” he murmured before leaving, the sound of the mad She-elf’s screams the only thing keeping her company.

  * * *

  Stieg was pulled into the princess’s room and forced into a corner, again on his knees.

  Her brother lingered behind as the guards exited. “I don’t think you should be alone with him.”

  Princess Uathach dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand, removing what remained of her burned nightdress and tossing the material on the fire. “He’ll be fine as long as he knows we have the woman. He wouldn’t risk her life . . . now would you, human pet?”

  Stieg said nothing, just stared straight ahead.

  “Besides,” she went on, “he needs to get used to his new life.” She giggled and stroked her brother’s cheek.

  Stieg couldn’t help it—he sneered a little, assuming Erin had been right.

  The brother caught Stieg in the act and quickly snapped, “Oh, come on! She’s my sister! What is wrong with you humans?”

  * * *

  Finally, after several hours, the She-elf calmed down and literally crawled back into the shadows. Occasionally a guard came by, looking in on Erin, and they’d even brought her out once when she’d flatly refused to use the bucket they had for her in the corner of her cell. That wasn’t going to happen and what she threatened them with—because no matter the species, males were males—had them moving fast enough to find a private place for her within the castle. Other than that, they left her alone.

  Then, in the early morning, Dualtach the Witch appeared before her bars. She didn’t believe for a second he’d come to release her. The elf was a survivor. She sensed in him the same thing she’d sensed in Stieg when she’d first met him—their lives had been much harder than what they now were surrounded by. So Dualtach wasn’t about to do anything that could put his life at risk. Not for her.

  Then . . . what did he want?

  He glanced over at the cell where the She-elf panted in the darkness. “She doesn’t sleep, you know. Barely eats. She’s kept alive by rage and hatred. Her mind trapped there.”

  Erin let out a bored sigh. “Too bad.”

  “Her madness isn’t natural, though.”

  Slowly, Erin turned her head to look at him. “What?”

  “It isn’t natural. It was forced upon her. By me. Could be removed just as easily.”

  “With blood magic?”

  “Not everything requires blood. I wouldn’t worry about that, if I were you.” He walked away, “Soon you’ll have more than enough for entire ceremonies.”

  She watched the witch disappear around a corner, her mind turning, until the She-elf again threw herself against the bars, reaching out for Erin, screeching, and desperately trying to catch her so she could tear her apart.

  * * *

  With the thick metal cuffs still on his wrists, his hands bound behind his back, Stieg rested on his knees in front of Prince Uinseann’s throne. A leather collar was around his neck and the prince held the leash. His sister didn’t want the bother since Stieg hadn’t been “trained” yet.

  He didn’t think about any of that, though. He focused on seeing Erin again.

  It had been nearly eighteen hours, the sun had gone down at least an hour ago, and they had returned to the hall. The tables, however, had been pulled back and part of the floor removed to reveal an actual pit. Not a deep one, thankfully, but the kind of pit used for dogfights back home. The kind of thing he’d gone to once in his younger days and vowed never to return to again. He’d been too disgusted and freaked out. Only this particular pit had a round metal cage over it that had been locked into the floor. There’d be no easy way out of it for Erin.

  The royal audience was brought in first, cheering and ready for the imagined blood they were already banking on.

  The princess waved at friends and called out to people like she was at some fun-filled brunch thing with girlfriends.

  The prince occasionally yanked on the leash—in his mind, reminding Stieg who was in charge. In Stieg’s mind, though, it was just giving him more reason to hate everyone in this room.

  Finally, the guards brought in Erin, uncuffing her before shoving her into the cage with a kick to the stomach. She stumbled back and fell on her ass, making the crowd laugh loudly. Happily.

  Winci
ng, she got to her feet, her hand rubbing her stomach while she looked through the crisscrossed bars until her gaze found his. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and he expected her to laugh at the picture he made. But she didn’t. Instead, her eyes narrowed on the princess and he saw pure hatred. An expression usually reserved for worshippers who spilled innocent blood to call on their powerful demons.

  Erin lowered her hands to her sides, her fingers curling into fists.

  “Ooooh,” the princess purred. “Your friend is angry at me, pet.”

  “Can we teach him to speak?” the prince asked about Stieg.

  “To be honest I’m not sure I want to. I had a chatty one once. It got a little tiring. All that begging.”

  “Good point.”

  Guards brought in the She-elf from the cell next to Erin’s. She had on a muzzle to protect the guards from her bite and a long leash attached to a collar like Stieg’s that allowed them to drag the hysterical female through the frenzied crowd.

  They wanted blood and knew the mad She-elf would give it to them.

  Stieg eased his fingers around the thick chain between the cuffs. The cuffs were dwarf made. As a Raven, he’d retrieved enough enchanted dwarf-made items to know the difference. That meant the cuffs would not be coming off without a key or the help of an actual dwarf. But the chain . . . it was not dwarf-made.

  Stieg lowered his head and watched in horror as the She-elf was shoved into the cage with Erin. Still leashed, she immediately went for Erin, and it was only the guards holding her back that kept Erin safe. But everyone in this hall knew that wouldn’t last long.

  Yet Stieg forced himself to do something he’d never really thought he could. He placed his fingers on the chain and waited until Erin Amsel gave him the signal.

  * * *

  Erin waited on the other side of the cage, her back against the bars, watching as the guards pulled the She-elf close so they could remove the leash at the princess’s command.

  She’d really only have one chance to make this work, but until that one chance came, she’d have to somehow keep this female from killing her. She just wasn’t sure how she was going to do that. You know . . . other than running away. But guards with spears encircled the pit, and she knew they were there to push the females toward each other should one try to run.