The Ever After

by Amanda Hocking

  Two more injured were brought in, and Rikky enlisted a healer and Patrik to start doing triage.

  Across the canvas covering the tent, a pattering sound trickled above us, and the sound reminded me of hail. The canvas rippled, and I heard a girl scream right outside the front flaps.

  I ran out and saw that a pack of spiders the size of fat house cats were on the tent, descending on a teenager. Two of them launched themselves at her—one clung to her leg while she tried to pull another smaller one off her arm.

  I focused my energy at them—when I was angry or frightened I had the ability to harness it and direct it at other living things. In other trolls, it caused a pain inside their head, short but intense, like they were being slapped.

  In the spiders, apparently, it had a much more aggressive effect. Because all at once, the spiders exploded—their thick abdomens bursting with gooey innards. The girl lifted her arm over her face, but she couldn’t hide from the gooey lemon-lime splatter. And then she just stood there, screaming.

  “Hey.” I took her shoulders, and she finally stopped. Soot and ash clung to her long brown hair, and blood—red and green—was smudged across her cheek, and I realized she was only a few years older than my son, Oliver. “What’s your name?”

  She stared blankly forward and blinked slowly. “M-Minnie.”

  “Minnie, you’re okay.” I wiped the blood off her face. “You’re going to be okay.”

  Nearby, I heard my husband yelling. I couldn’t see him—I thought he’d been out here, securing the tent, but his voice sounded like it was coming from around a crumbling tower nearby.

  “Go inside,” I told Minnie, and let go of her. “They’ll make sure you’ll be fine.”

  She nodded and started toward the tent, and I turned and took a step toward where I heard Loki shouting, “Fall back! Fall back before they eat you alive!”

  And then he rounded the tower. Thrown over one shoulder, he carried a limp body in a Trylle uniform, and he had his other arm around a Kanin soldier with a bloody stump for a right leg. Thanks to Loki’s preternatural Vittra strength, he carried them easily.

  “Get back, Wendy!” he yelled as he hurried toward me. “There’s a lot more coming.”

  66

  Underground

  Ulla

  With the wyrm otherwise occupied circling above us, the entrance to the underground city of the Älvolk was open, relatively speaking. To get to the stairs, we had to pass through the stables, where the mutilated corpses of the giant woolly elk had been piled.

  The air was thick with buzzing flies and the scent of sulfur and ash. I led the way, since I remembered our time here better than the others.

  Eliana was at my heels, and I kept taking her hand because I didn’t want to lose her. Elof and Dagny were a few steps behind, with Dagny using her bow and arrow to take out several giant spiders that rushed toward us.

  At least we made it to the stables without crossing any thrimavolk or Älvolk, but I suspected that they had their hands full with the monsters they’d unwittingly released, the ones we were trying to contain.

  “Why would they do this?” Eliana asked in quiet horror as she surveyed the carnage.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, and swallowed back my revulsion. “Stay with Elof. I’ll clear the path.”

  She and Elof waited near the entrance while Dagny and I went over to get the heavy bodies out of the way. I took a fortifying breath, closed my eyes, and I moved the dead elk out of the way enough to clear a path.

  “Ulla!” Sunniva yelled in surprise, and I looked over to see her standing in the doorway. “I’ve been looking for you!”

  “Why? What’s going on?” I asked, and wiped my hands on my jeans in a vain attempt to get the blood off.

  “Other than the end of the world?” she asked as she stepped over a bloody elk antler. Her expression was grim as she reached me. “I just feel like I’m supposed to be with you.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  She shook her head uncertainly. “For whatever comes next.”

  “We should get downstairs,” Dagny said, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm.

  “Where are you going?” Sunniva asked as Dagny helped Elof over the animal remains that still littered the stable floor.

  “Down to the Älvolk living quarters,” I explained. “We’re trying to find a way to contain or stop anything that comes across the bridge.”

  “I’m in,” Sunniva said, and she joined us as we made our way through the stable massacre and down the spiral staircase.

  As we descended the stone stairs into the earth, it seemed darker than when I had been here last. There was the earthy mildew smell that I remembered all too well, but it was currently being overwhelmed by the strong scent of burnt sulfur and metallic heat.

  I ran my fingertips along the wall, using it as a guide, until my fingers grazed a bloody handprint smeared across the stone—still warm and sticky.

  The stairwell ended in a large stone room with an archway that led to the two respective wings: the Älvolk under their triskelion sigil, and the thrimavolk under an ouroboros of a serpentine dragon biting its own tail.

  “I know they had a lot of texts in the häxdoktor’s office in the medica,” I said. I had a sharp memory of running down the hall from the thrimavolk dormitory, and then down a narrow stairwell. That’s where the medica was located.

  “Wait.” Eliana grabbed my hand and peered into the darkness of the thrimavolk wing.

  “Why?” Dagny asked.

  “There’s something…” Eliana trailed off and went toward the room, gently pulling me with her.

  Then I heard it too. A whimpering sound and ragged breathing.

  Elof pulled out a torch, flooding the thrimavolk living room with amber light. Huddled in a group behind the sofa were twenty or so children—boys and girls, none of them older than nine or ten.

  They cried out when they saw the flame, and Eliana rushed over to comfort them.

  “No, no, it’s not the wyrm,” she said, and crouched down in front of them so they could see she wasn’t a fire-breathing monster. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Eliana, leave them,” Dagny said. “We should go.”

  “They’re terrified,” Eliana protested.

  “But they’re safe,” Dagny persisted. “As safe as they can be until we find a way to close the bridge.”

  “We can’t just leave them alone like this!” Eliana argued.

  “Why don’t you stay with them?” Elof asked. He handed her another torch and a dagger from his belt. “Keep them safe until we come back for you.”

  She took the blade tentatively, and her hair color rippled—it matched the flickering golden flame of the torch.

  “You’re strong and brave,” I told her, remembering the impressive acrobatic stunts I’d seen her do in the past.

  Eliana straightened up and gave me an uneasy smile. “I can do this. You go do what you need to.”

  I wanted to hug her, but Dagny told me we needed to hurry, and she wasn’t wrong.

  We were on the move again. Elof handed another torch to me, to light the way as we ventured deeper into the dark underground. Down another stairwell—much more narrow this time, but shorter—and the medica was right off the stairs.

  When the air smelled of dry lilies and rotting fruit, I knew we were getting close. The scent of the sorgblomma permeated the häxdoktor’s office, and I saw dim light coming through the door left ajar.

  Glass shattered inside the room, and I pushed open the door to see the man from my nightmares. Lemak, the häxdoktor, his long, slender frame cowering in the corner, behind the contraption that he used to steal my blood.

  67

  Patriarch

  Bryn

  Tuva convulsed on the ground beside the dead murder snail.

  “What the hell’s happening to her?” Pan asked. He stood a few feet away from me, and his arms were extended back behind him, holding a stretcher. It was empty
, and he carried it alone, the rear handles dragging in the dirt.

  One of Pan’s sleeves was torn, there was a fresh gash across his runic clock tattoo, and mud and ashes were tangled in his curly hair. Around his waist, he wore a satchel marked with a green cross—the Trylle First Aid symbol.

  “She’s dying,” I told him.

  Her eyes began to bleed as she writhed and moaned, so I drove my sword through her throat, severing her brain stem with a slick crunch.

  Pan winced and looked away.

  “You couldn’t have saved her,” I said, and wiped my blade clean on her tunic. “Ending her pain was the only kind thing to do.”

  “I don’t know that I can save anyone,” he said quietly. His face was pale, and his eyes were dark as he stared down. “I’m not a medic, but I’m not a fighter either. A nurse I know needed help, and I wanted to help…”

  “You can’t think too much out here,” I said. “You gotta keep moving. You gotta help those you can help. You gotta keep yourself alive.” I pointed to the dead shelled monster behind me. “And stay away from the murder snails if you don’t want to end up like her.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded grimly, then jogged off with the stretcher in the direction of someone crying out.

  From a crumbling stone house half hidden in the fog, I heard swords clashing and men arguing. I went closer to it to get a better look, and I saw them walking backward up a mossy staircase.

  Jem-Kruk was on the defensive, nimbly blocking the aggressive blows of a man in a cobalt kaftan.

  “It never had to be this way,” Jem was saying.

  His Älvolk aggressor retorted through gritted teeth, “No, this was always how it ended. You dying by my hand.”

  “Your arrogance will be your downfall, Indu,” Jem said, but he sounded weary, and he stumbled on the stairs.

  “But I will be yours,” Indu snarled.

  I raced up the steps, running at Indu’s back as fast as I could, but I wasn’t fast enough. Indu stabbed Jem-Kruk through the chest, and then he tossed the body off the third-floor landing and it fell on a pile of rubble with a wet thud.

  He finally turned around and looked down at me. And for the first time in my life, I was face-to-face with the man that impregnated my mother. I was a few steps below him, and he tilted his head, giving me a curious expression, like he recognized me from somewhere.

  Indu looked more like Iver—my father, the man who raised me—than I had thought, and it was disorienting. I had expected a stranger’s face, but the familiarity was unsettling.

  Just before I had left Doldastam a few days ago, I had gone to see my parents. I forgave them for keeping this from me—I knew they had their own complicated reasons for it. Dad told me that he’d always love me, no matter how I felt about any of this, and I told him that he was my dad and always would be.

  I cleared my throat and asked, “Indu Mattison?”

  Realization flashed across his face, and he smiled. “You’re Runa’s daughter. My daughter.”

  “My father is in Doldastam,” I corrected him, and tightened my grip on my sword. “As far as I can tell, you’re nothing but a womanizing sycophantic murderer, and you just killed my friend.”

  His smile fell away and his eyes hardened. “Not to sound like an overprotective father, but Jem-Kruk is slime. You shouldn’t be spending time with a worm like that. I did you a favor.”

  “I suppose I ought to return the favor,” I said, and I charged up the stairs at him.

  Indu didn’t hesitate to swing at me, and I caught the blade with my arm guard. “We don’t need to fight. You can join me.”

  “You opened a portal to hell, and you think you can tempt me with an invitation into the fire?” I sneered at him.

  We crossed swords. He held his with both hands as I backed him up, but I wielded mine with only my right. My left hand twisted behind my back to lift the dagger from my belt. The ornate handle of ivory felt hot against the palm of my hand. They were beautiful daggers, but most importantly, they had long sharp blades of silver.

  I blocked his strike, but he pushed hard, his blade hovering mere inches from my face. With my left hand, I swung wide and drove my dagger deep into the side of his neck.

  His eyes widened in surprise, and he made a gurgling sound as blood filled his mouth. I pulled the knife from his neck, and he fell back onto the steps. His sword fell to the ground, and I used my foot to kick him, and he rolled off the stairs.

  Indu tumbled to the ground two stories below, his body landing a few feet from Jem’s.

  68

  Venom

  Wendy

  Rikky had taken charge of the triage, quickly giving out orders to any available hands, and that included me, but honestly, it was a relief. This wasn’t my usual role when the Trylle went to war. Acts of diplomacy often kept me from the front lines.

  But this was too important. All five kingdoms had united for this because the enemy was so fierce. They had followed me here, and I couldn’t stand back and do nothing. My captains with their military expertise were leading the troops, but my talents lay elsewhere.

  Right now, following Rikky’s orders seemed like the best way to be useful. Minnie had overcome her initial shock, and she had snapped into action beside me. We applied a tourniquet on the calf of someone who’d had their foot ripped off by some kind of monstrous animal. Our main goal was to stop the bleeding until a healer or medic got to them.

  But I had no idea when that would be. Rikky had her hands busy with a trio of violently convulsing patients infected with a powerful venom. The medical tent itself—despite its large size—was already filling up.

  The injuries and casualties were far more than we were prepared for, but I couldn’t let that knowledge overwhelm me. I kept my head down and moved quickly, doing as much as I could as fast as I could.

  While Minnie cut away the fabric around a wound, I went to grab an elixir for the pain from a nearby cart, the way Rikky had shown me. By the time I made it back, Minnie had stopped her frantic work and just stared down at the wounded troll.

  “Minnie, what are you doing?” I asked.

  “He died.” She nodded at the motionless body on the cot in front of her. “While I was trying to help him, he just died.”

  “You did what you were able,” I said, but any more words of comfort I might’ve given were overridden by someone shouting from outside the tent.

  “Can someone help me?” he shouted, and I ran out through the tent flaps and saw Rikky’s friend Pan struggling to bring more wounded to the tent.

  Rikky had sent him off with a stretcher and a medic kit, and he’d returned with two burnt soldiers in blue strapped to the stretcher, and a large Omte with an arrow in his back was leaning on him.

  I rushed over and put my arm around the Omte and let him put his weight on me. He was a big guy with broad shoulders, and he somehow managed to be even heavier than he looked. I struggled to hold him up but I managed.

  “Sorry,” he said when he stumbled.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I said, digging deep to hold him up. “What should I call you?”

  “Knut,” he said in a low grunt and tried to stand up straighter.

  Try as we both did, we weren’t moving fast at all. Even Pan, pulling two soldiers with only the petite Minnie helping him, was ahead of us.

  As we walked, I could hear the wyrm roaring, and I looked up toward the sky. I couldn’t see the creature through the haze, but the mountain wall was close enough that I could see the cages made of stone and iron, filled with bizarre beings with trollian eyes and extended hands.

  “What in the world do they have caged to the mountain?” I asked.

  Pan looked up, and his expression changed to confusion. “Those are Ögonen, but I don’t know what they’re doing up there like that.”

  I had heard of the Ögonen before, but I had never seen them. Merellä rarely extended invitations to the Kings and Queens, and I hadn’t yet had the pleasure. The offic
ial briefings I’d had on the Ögonen described them as cousins of trolls, more in tune with nature and plants. They volunteered their powerful psychokinesis to help protect our kind and our way of life, which Merellä and the Mimirin institution professed to be their true purpose.

  I don’t know what the Älvolk were doing with the Ögonen, but they certainly didn’t look like they were here of their own free will. They strained at the bars, and their large eyes stared down at us in desperation from their haunting, mouthless faces.

  “We have to free them,” I said.

  Pan and Minnie were now too far away to hear me, but I was speaking more to myself, making a promise I hoped I would keep.

  But now wasn’t the time to worry about what came after. Now I had to focus on surviving and getting Knut to the tent as quickly as possible.

  Beneath my bare feet, the ground began to shake, and a loud rumbling came from within the mountain. I picked up my pace, the adrenaline giving me the strength to start dragging Knut along.

  “Run!” I shouted at Minnie and Pan.

  69

  Girjastu

  Ulla

  Lemak whimpered when he saw me. I grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him roughly into the apothecary table.

  The memories came rushing back all at once, as vivid and raw as if it was happening now. Dozens of times, Lemak restraining me with the wolfram metal cuffs.

  All the times he’d watched as stronger trolls than him held me down so he could steal my blood. But now he was on his own, and the wolfram restraints were secured on the medica bed across the room.

  Lemak fell to the ground, and beakers and instruments on top of the apothecary table rained down on him. As he lay simpering before me, his bony fingers skittered across the floor, reaching for a giant needle attached to the end of the rubbery tube.

  But I stomped on his hand before he could grab it. His bones crunched and he yelped as he recoiled back against the wall.