“No! It wasn’t like that. I met Cerball later. The friend was not from Midgard, and he paid severely for helping me. When I had to uproot again, I convinced myself that it would be better to hide Alberich. If I sent him to live with another family, where he wouldn’t know who he was—away from both of us—he would have a good life. If you found me, it wouldn’t risk his safety. So, I gave him to someone who took him away to a village. The only information given to me was he would go to a woman who wanted a child but couldn’t have one of her own. I thought she would love him and give him a better life than I could.”
“Not a better life than we could have given him together,” Jarrick said through his teeth. “He would have wanted for nothing, raised with his own people.”
Ingrid felt Jorg flinch and looked as though he was going to say something, but then clamped his mouth tight.
Jarrick tipped his chin to the ceiling before he stared at Galwain again. “I loved you more than I ever thought possible.” He reached up and brushed his fingers along the side of her face. “I don’t know who kept you from me, but I will destroy them when I find out,” his voice calm, cold, and deadly.
“They’ve suffered much already. Can’t we try to move on from here?” Galwain spoke softly and put her hand over his. The gold of the band on her index finger glinting in the light.
Jorg stiffened as he watched, clutching Ingrid’s hand tight enough to break bones if she wasn’t protecting herself. Bremen struggled in vain to free himself, while Selby tried to calm him and explain that it was useless. She had been bound in the same manner before.
Faster than anyone could blink, Jarrick stood behind Galwain and stared at Jorg. Leaning down, he spoke next to her ear while he wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her tight against his chest. “Let’s listen to our son’s story about this woman he calls mother instead of you, and then we can decide if you did the right thing.” Standing to his full height, he tipped his head to Jorg. “Your turn, son. Explain how your life was so much better without your true parents.”
Jorg smirked and shook his head. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“That’s a shame. From how close you are to Ingrid, I would guess you grew up near her, possibly in the same village—the village that I will destroy if she doesn’t come with me, and yet you take that chance. You must not have that much love for the imposters who kept you from me.”
“He has people there who he loves and love him. My family does, almost as much as I do,” Ingrid smiled at Jorg. “If you kill them, it will hurt Jorg, too.”
“Then you’re aware what needs to happen, Ingrid. Are you ready? Eir was smarter than I gave her credit for, taking you to Asgard, but if you want to protect all those people you both claim to love so much, come with me.”
“Why do you want her? What’s your goal in this?” Jorg asked.
Ingrid had tried to explain it before, but she didn’t understand enough herself. She was as eager as Jorg to hear Jarrick’s reasons.
“It is a long story of an idealistic boy who thought he could rebuild a broken realm to its former glory, bringing honor back to his family in a way they deserved.” Jarrick wove his finger through a curl of Galwain’s hair, a dreamy look on his face as she shuddered. “The more I learned about how it all came to be, the more I was determined to make things right.
“Odin cheated the Vanir, persuaded them to accept a deal that only benefitted himself, and because of it, Vanaheim lays in ruins. A once vibrant and rich culture of artists, poets, and philosophers stamped out by the greed of those who care only for themselves. It is a society and realm that deserves—” he jerked Galwain hard against his chest as he tightened his grip, making her gasp “—to thrive as the true leaders of the realms.
“The Vanir could have won the war of the gods, especially if the elves had joined them like they should have. This time, they will. They will rise and restore Vanaheim to glory, and Asgard will receive its justice.”
His voice was full of passion and grew stronger and angrier as he spoke. Tears streamed down Galwain’s cheeks as she listened.
“You don’t need Ingrid. She can’t help you with any of that,” Jorg said.
“Yes, she can, and she will. There was a reason that Odin and Freya cast their net around Midgard. Odin represents Asgard, and Freya is still Vanir. I believe it as strongly as I live; she has been waiting for someone to break her out of that prison. Midgard is in the center of all the realms. The gods who control it, control all the others. Freya used Odin’s arrogance against him and set up a way to defeat Asgard. Ingrid holds inside of herself the blood of Midgard and Vanaheim.”
A cold fear slithered down Ingrid’s spine. Jarrick did know that Freya’s blood flowed through her veins. So why hadn’t he forced her to go with him to Alfheim? Was that why he’d come now?
“Even if she adds her powers to the spell without me,” Jarrick continued, “the balance will be in the Vanir’s favor, leaving an opening to break Asgard’s rule once and for all. It’s why Eir is trying so hard to keep Ingrid from learning exactly how powerful she can be and what she truly means to all the realms. Odin wants to control her, and he is doing it through his wife’s handmaiden. I don’t want to control you, Ingrid—I want to join you.”
“Join me? My destiny is to keep Midgard safe and protected from the evil of the dark realms, from creatures like dragons that you let into our world and used for your purposes.”
“I controlled that dragon. It did not hurt you.”
“Really?” Ingrid pulled up her sleeve to show the jagged claw mark that disfigured her forearm. “I almost died.”
Jarrick rolled his eyes and let out a long breath. “Almost is the key. You were being obstinate. But I’ve realized now that we should work together instead. In fact, the more I have studied the spell, I believe that Freya’s intentions were to make sure that her descendant didn’t just restore Vanaheim as a realm but rule it as well. I am convinced that you, Ingrid, are to be the new Vanir Queen.”
“Ha! That is the craziest thing you have said so far,” Ingrid said. “And who is to be the king? You?”
Jarrick laughed. “I’ll admit, the thought crossed my mind, many years ago.” He tightened his grip around Galwain and used his right hand to let his fingers roam up and down her arm. When he reached her hand, he pulled it to his lips and kissed the ring on her finger. A flicker of light bounced off the matching one he wore.
Galwain closed her eyes and let her shoulders sag in defeat.
“But look at you, standing next to my son. It’s more than I hoped for. When I dreamed of building this legacy, I couldn’t see past the restoration. Who would lead and where they would come from wasn’t clear to me. Not like it is now. Alberich, royal elven and Vanir blood flows in your veins. Together with Ingrid, you are both the rightful heirs to Vanaheim.”
Ingrid shivered, her energy coiled so tight and deep down it left her feeling vulnerable. Part of her struggled to ignore what he was saying as lies. There was an odd truth to it, but in her heart, she knew it was a twisted version of Jarrick’s form of truth. It had to be.
We need to get away from him. He is confusing me.
“Why is it then, that you only want Ingrid to go with you to Alfheim? If I’m to be a part of your plans, shouldn’t I go as well?” Jorg asked. “In fact, you should take me instead. I have much to learn about the homeland I was denied.”
Jarrick let a slow grin split across his face. “Now that is not an offer I thought I’d ever hear. My son willing to join me despite the years he was kept from me—”
“Jorg, please don’t.” The urgent panic in Galwain’s voice billowed into the room. “You don’t understand what is at stake. Let me explain why I did what I did, and you’ll see it was the only way. Even your uncle, the king, felt the same. It’s why he sent us back here to our own lands.”
A low rumble echoed against the stone walls. At first, Ingrid thought it might be a storm brewing on the horizon, but it was
much nearer. The sound emanated from Jarrick as he clamped his mouth together so tightly that his lips were translucent.
“Apparently, your mother thinks so little of your heritage she can’t even use your proper name. I am not of the same mind, Alberich. However, while I appreciate your offer, I must decline. There is a reason Ingrid is essential, and until she does her part, nothing else can proceed,” Jarrick said.
Once again, the dark elf turned his focus to Galwain. “Marriage on Alfheim is eternally binding. You know that or you would have removed your wedding band.” Jarrick touched Galwain’s golden ring.
“I expected that Ingrid would choose to join with me when I arrived, but another day won’t hinder my plans. Now that you and I have so many things to discuss, my love.”
“Mother!” Bremen yelled out as Galwain’s eyes grew wide and then she disappeared in a flash with Jarrick.
Released from his constraints, Bremen scrambled and grabbed hold of Ingrid, spinning her to face him. “Where did they go? Can you take us there?”
“Let. Her. Go.” Jorg kept his voice low but spoke through his teeth. Ingrid had no doubt he would lose every bit of his anger on Bremen if he didn’t release her arm immediately.
Moving slowly, she laid her free hand over Bremen’s and eased his pulse to a steady rhythm. He relaxed and let go of her, but the expression of loss on his face ripped a hole in Ingrid’s heart. A desire to climb into her own mother’s arms and forget about her destiny squeezed her like a vice.
“Most likely, he took her to Alfheim. And I’m sorry, but I can’t make portals between the realms.”
Bremen raked his hands through his hair and spun around, striding several paces away before the upheaval of Lazuli’s tantrum stopped him. Selby stared at Ingrid, speechless as the loss for Galwain covered her face.
“Go to him,” Ingrid whispered to her friend. She saw the shine of tears pooling in Selby’s eyes before she gave a weak smile and made her way to Bremen. When Ingrid faced Jorg, his features were hard as he stared in the direction Jarrick and Galwain had stood only moments before. “He’ll bring her back,” she said, though not with much conviction.
“Why? What would make him bring her back? He believes she’s still his wife.” Jorg made a sound that crossed between disgust and a dangerous predator. “You said you can’t make portals between realms, but you can make them within one?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do you need to practice? Will Eir help you with that?”
“Jorg, please try to stay calm and let me explain.” Ingrid reached out for him, but he stepped out of her reach.
The growing heat of his temper rolled off his shoulders and constricted the air in Ingrid’s lungs. She stood staring at his back. Did he blame her? After all, Galwain would still be there if Jarrick hadn’t come for her. “He’ll come back for me. We can make a trade.”
“No! That’s not what will happen.” He spun and closed the gap between them. The emotions swirling among the green and gold in his eyes. Ingrid sank into his palm when he cupped her cheek in his hand. “If you could make a portal, I would go and get her, but I won’t sacrifice you for anyone.”
Ingrid sighed. “It may be the only way, and I’m prepared. I’ve trained, and I’m ready.”
“The spell is complete?” Selby asked as she and Bremen moved closer.
All three sets of eyes bore down on Ingrid as she felt the weight of their hopes on her shoulders. Eir had said she needed to release her worries and cares for those she loved before she was fully prepared to bind the spell. How could she do that now when another person close to her was in danger?
“No, it’s not complete yet. There’s one more step I need to take.”
“If you do that—bind the spell, whatever that means—will my mother be able to return?” Bremen asked. “If this realm is protected, will it trap her outside of it?”
Oh gods, could that be true? Ingrid clutched her stomach and opened her mouth to speak but had to close it again. She didn’t know, but she’d have to find out. How many more days were left before Jarrick’s deadline for the village? Eir said she’d return in time, but was it enough?
“There has to be a way to bring her back, even with the protections in place.” Jorg’s face was pale, the reality of Bremen’s questions soaking in.
“I will have to go. There isn’t any other way. Either Galwain is trapped, or the village is destroyed . . . unless I convince Jarrick to make the trade.” Ingrid straightened her shoulders. She’d do whatever she needed to make everything right.
26
Later that afternoon, after helping to deliver a warm pie to Lazuli and ensuring the kitchen was back in working order for Vevina, Jorg and Ingrid sat in the chairs of her room staring into the quiet darkness. The weight of the next day wrapped around them.
Jorg rested his forearms against his thighs. The waning sunlight angled through the window to shine on his face. “If I can convince him that I believe in his cause, maybe he’ll take me with him instead of you. Then I can keep him from hurting you while you do what you need to do for the spell. At the very least, maybe I can gather some information that will help stop him. Whatever it takes to keep you from going to Alfheim with him, I need to try.”
It was what she expected him to say, and Ingrid didn’t bother to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. She was unsure if they fell from pain or anger—both were viable reasons. “You asked me to trust you, but you won’t trust me. I’m stronger now, and he won’t hurt me. He thinks he’s making me some kind of queen.” She let loose an ironic chuckle at the absurdity of Jarrick’s comments, even as part of the sentiment enticed her.
“That’s the same reason he’ll take me instead. He’ll be eager to teach me everything he thinks I missed out on, and I will keep him preoccupied enough for him to stay away from you. There’s so much about myself I don’t know, and I hate it, but at least he can explain who I am.”
“From his point of view. He uses dark magic, Jorg.”
“I understand that.” Jorg stood and paced behind the chairs. “But he wasn’t always dark. He became that. I won’t.”
“And what if you do? How can you be sure you can avoid his manipulation? Jarrick is strong, and if I have to fight him with you by his side, I won’t be able to. The protections will fall. If I have to choose between you and the rest of the realms, I’ll choose you.” Ingrid stood and faced him. “Please don’t put me in that position.”
“She’s my mother.” The words were soft, and Jorg hung his head, not looking at Ingrid. “I can’t let him take both of you.”
Ingrid slipped her arms around Jorg’s waist and pulled herself close to him, breathing in his grassy scent. His body trembled, and his heart pounded through his tunic against her cheek. The thought crossed her mind to ease his pain, but it would be a violation. His grief was true, and it wouldn’t be fair to take it from him.
“For a time, while we walked along with Bremen’s men, I couldn’t help but think it might have been best if we turned back. Persuade Bremen to use his forces to help the village and battle Jarrick that way instead of continuing to search for Eir.”
Jorg sat down again, holding Ingrid tight against him and allowing them to speak face-to-face.
“I had a grand picture in my mind of how it would all work, and everyone would be safe and happy. But, that’s not sensible . . . no more than you going to Alfheim alone.”
“It’s different.” Jorg stared into the space above Ingrid’s head when she glanced up at him. His hair had grown longer since they’d left the village, and it mingled with hers. Light and dark, just like they would be if Jarrick had a chance to teach Jorg his ways.
Before Ingrid could say anything more, a commotion rang through the halls from outside her door. They both sprang to their feet and rushed into the corridor.
Bodies scrambled everywhere grabbing weapons as shouts ordered men to their posts. The druht army had arrived. Ingrid and Jorg hurried down to the courtyar
d to find the others.
“Close the gate! Close the gate!” a caller from the watch tower yelled over the din of preparations as he waved a flag.
Chaos erupted at the sight of men sprinting across the bridge through the open gateway. They were out of time.
Bremen emerged from the building and yelled for the archers to fire at will, and men to gather at the front. Ingrid fell backward as a set of hands grabbed the side of her tunic and yanked her from behind. A jolt of pain shot up her spine from the hard landing but disappeared in a heartbeat. Plintze stood in front of her, sword drawn.
Not anymore!
Ingrid stood and moved herself next to the overprotective dwarf. The days of feeling helpless and hiding behind others were gone. Ingrid pulled her daggers and steadied her breath. The vines and leaves on the carved bone dug into her palm as she tightened her grip.
This was not like the forest, where she had concentrated on only a handful of men. Now there were too many streaming into the courtyard and blending in with Bremen’s men. She would have to fight like the others.
Men charged over the bridge and through the gate, despite the arrows flying at them from the archers above. There were so many of them. Ingrid gulped down a hard lump rising in her throat and wrapped her fingers tighter around the hilt of each dagger. The runes in her pouch seemed to vibrate as if reminding her of her destiny.
A wave of doubt flashed through her mind. Eir said she would be ready to bind the spell only when her desire to save and protect all the realms transcended her loved ones. How could she do that knowing they faced such a danger as the angry warriors flooding the courtyard? The army was there because of her.
She had to fight—to keep everyone safe.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Selby. Each of them gave the other a nod. There was a slight grin on Selby’s face and a confident set to her shoulders.
For a quick second, Ingrid closed her eyes and relaxed into the same confident pose. When she opened them, heat crept up from her middle as Jorg brushed the back of his hand against her arm and gave her a wink.
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