Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  Let me go! I shouted at Ganglati.

  All lives must end. The shade sounded casual.

  I strained to move as the assassin lifted a blade to Ali’s throat. Panic was ripping my mind open.

  She was going to die.

  I tried to look away, but Ganglati kept my eyes focused on Ali’s throat. I haven’t seen a death in thousands of years, he whispered excitedly.

  He had taken over my body, but Ali was my light in the darkness, and I would get to her. I felt like ice had stiffened every part of me, and when I moved, it was like my muscles were being sliced with shards of glass. Still, I tried to rush for her before it was too late.

  Chapter 23

  Ali

  The assassin lifted me by the throat, and the edges of my vision swam.

  She leaned against me with her full body weight, pressing me into the wall. I could feel her free hand moving towards me. I didn’t have to see the blade to know I was about to be stabbed.

  With the last of my strength, I brought my knee up into the assassin’s gut.

  I couldn’t see her face behind the hood, but I heard the grunt of pain. Her body spasmed, and I knew I’d knocked all the wind from her lungs. And then, most importantly, I heard the distinct clattering sound of a dagger hitting the floor.

  She doubled over.

  “Skalei.”

  She looked up as my blade appeared in my hand. That gave me the opening I needed. I lunged forward and plunged Skalei into her eye. Dead. Finally.

  But before she could fall to the ground, Galin gripped her by the head and twisted. The crack of her breaking neck echoed off the walls.

  The assassin slumped forward, against me, then slid to the floor.

  “Took your time to jump in,” I said as I looked up at Galin. “I had actually already killed her, for the record.”

  “Ali, I couldn’t move. The shade Ganglati paralyzed me.”

  I no longer had any idea what mystical gibberish he was banging on about.

  “Well, I was fine on my own. As I said, I did kill her.” Some of my pride seemed to be at stake here.

  Galin crossed to the door and locked the deadbolt.

  When he returned, he nodded at the body. “Who is it?”

  The assassin lay face down on the floor, and I knelt to give her a better look. I rolled her over, then let the hood fall away, revealing her identity.

  I’d expected to see golden hair, but this elf’s hair was a dark brown. Wavy and thick, it draped over her face. I brushed it away. The elf’s remaining eye stared up at me, lifeless. She was unquestionably dead, but that wasn’t what interested me. It was the color—not gold, not silver, but a deep emerald green.

  “It’s a Vanir,” I said at last.

  Galin whistled low. “I didn’t see any women when we were in Vanaheim, but you did kill their Emperor. The Vanir must have recognized you.”

  That again. “Right. I had hoped that might be water under the bridge.”

  “It could, in fact, explain why the Vanir came at all,” Galin said thoughtfully. “And now both the High Elves and the Vanir want you dead. I can protect you from my family, but the entire kingdom of Vanaheim will be more complicated.”

  Galin began pacing the room, and I checked the dead elf’s pockets. I found them empty. Picking the dagger up from the floor, I tucked it back into her belt.

  Then, I turned to Galin, but he was muttering something about full body protection charms.

  “Galin,” I said. “We have to get rid of the body. If she’s found in my room, no spell will protect me. The penalty for killing an elf of another tribe is forfeiture of the Winnowing, if it happens outside the contest trials.” I went to the nearest window and began to unlatch it. “We should throw her out the window.”

  “Ali.” He gave me a lazy smile. “I’m not Marroc anymore. I’m not a lich. My magic is much more powerful now.” He pulled off his shirt, revealing his chest and arms, thickly corded with muscle.

  I stared at him. “What kind of magic are we talking about?”

  Without answering, he traced a rune on his chest. It glowed with golden light, and then an electric sound crackled as a portal opened in the center of my room—a ring of sizzling energy with an inky black center. “There are more discreet ways to dispose of a body.”

  “Weird, but okay.”

  Galin flicked his fingers, and the portal rotated so that it hovered flat, about a foot above the floor. Then, he crouched down to pick up the body bridal style.

  I stared as he dropped her in, and she plummeted into the darkness.

  He flicked his fingers again, and the portal twisted back into a vertical position. “We should both leave before the Vanir send backup to find out what happened.” Galin glanced at the window. “Sun’s coming up already. Follow me.”

  He crossed through the portal just as I heard footfalls outside.

  “Skalei.” I still didn’t know where the portal was going, but I leapt in anyway.

  I landed in a forward roll, which turned out to be a terrible idea because Galin’s portal had taken us outside. I rolled through a deep drift of snow.

  I leapt up, frantically wiping snow from my face. “I’m fine,” I said before he asked. I shook snow from my hair.

  Galin was standing a few feet away, in front of an open grave. The Vanir corpse lay at his feet.

  It seemed we were in a graveyard. Ancient stones jutted from the snow like a hag’s teeth, and above us, the frozen branches of an elm speared the night sky. Bitter cold gnawed at my skin.

  “Galin,” I said. “I need you to tell me about the letter. The one that got me thrown into the mines for treason. You still haven’t explained it to me. Did you expect me to die there?”

  He looked confused. “I didn’t send a letter. Of course I didn’t want you in the mines. I was trying to get to you.”

  “So who wrote it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know yet. But Ali … you must realize at this point that I don’t want you dead.”

  I bit my lip. My hatred for him had brought a strange sort of familiar comfort in the mines. I was almost reluctant to let go of it. No, it wasn’t just comfort—it had given my life a purpose.

  Without it? I had no idea what I’d do with myself.

  But I had to admit—if he’d wanted me dead, he’d have killed me in the battle. And I supposed letters could be forged. “I guess it could have been written by someone else,” I admitted.

  “Ali, I can’t stop thinking about you … and with the gods dead, you are the only thing that has meaning for me anymore. We are bound, our souls entwined. I have no choice but to love you.”

  My breath left my lungs. “No choice?” Apart from the speed at which I was trying to adjust my conception of him, there was something about that particular point that bothered me. “No choice. You make it sound like a prison sentence. If you have no choice, it’s not real, is it? If you take the magic away, maybe we have nothing in common. I can’t talk about which rune will best stun a draugr, just as you wouldn’t know how to slice an elf’s throat without soaking your clothes in blood. What if it’s not real?”

  His expression had gone glacial. “It’s not fake. That is a very limited understanding of the importance of fate, Ali.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I want the bond to be broken. It’s the only way to know what’s real.”

  His divine gold eyes now held a mournful expression. “I’ve seen what happens when Wyrd is ignored.”

  “You have?” Here he was, making things up again.

  “My mother’s soul was also bonded to another.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes, I had one of those once. She died a long time ago.”

  This was the last thing I’d expected to come out of his mouth, and my heart twisted. When my parents had died, I’d been a wreck for months. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shhh, listen—” He pressed a finger to my lips. The wind gusted, and Galin moved so that he shielded me from th
e blowing snow. “Wyrd bound my mother to a human. Someone named Brian. She tried everything to escape her fate, even going so far as to marry another. But the Norns had spoken.”

  “And that’s how she married King Gorm?” I breathed.

  “Exactly. She tried to break free of Wyrd, but she couldn’t. In the end, it destroyed her. Her life was empty, rotten, wrong without Brian. I vowed never to make the same mistake as her. Wyrd is unfair, cruel, but you cannot fight against it. In the end, fate always wins.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  “Gorm had her killed.”

  “Why?”

  But I already guessed the answer. Galin’s broad shoulders, his enormous hands. The complete lack of that stupid High Elf sing-song voice. It all made so much more sense now.

  My jaw dropped open. “Your father was Brian. You’re part human. That’s why Gorm hates you. Right?”

  Galin nodded. “And it’s also why Sune and Revna despise me. I’m the physical manifestation of my mother’s unfaithfulness, and I’m not even a pure elf.”

  “Why doesn’t Gorm just disown you, then?”

  The wind toyed with his golden hair. “That would require him to admit that she cheated, that he was a cuckold. To an elf like my father, that’s far worse than having a bastard son.”

  “So, you’re not really his heir?”

  “No, but I will be king.” Gently, he brushed the back of his knuckles over my cheeks. “So, do you understand now why we can’t fight Wyrd?”

  I drew in a deep breath, feeling like my heart had iced over. And that I needed it to ice over, or I’d drown. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I just can’t do it. I just can’t accept that there’s some magical bond that prevents me from choosing who I desire, who I love. That it was decided for me by a Norn. To me, that’s not true love. It’s a spell.”

  He pulled his hand away from my cheek, and a muscle worked in his jaw. He fell silent, the wind toying with his pale hair. “All right, then. If that’s truly what you want, I will help you break the bond.”

  Chapter 24

  Galin

  I sat at my desk, watching the first rays of the sun creep over the Boston skyline. I was exhausted, but my thoughts raced wildly. I knew I needed to think, to come up with some kind of plan, but I was simply too tired to focus.

  Well, that was quite the night, Ganglati whispered from some deep recess in my mind. I tried not to think about what he might find while rummaging around in there.

  I really don’t have time for you, I replied.

  You promised—you vowed your soul, you gave me an oblation.

  And I will fulfill that promise.

  Suddenly, the fingers in my hand clenched, my bicep contracted, and I found my fingernails piercing my own palm, drawing blood.

  Ganglati, I snapped inwardly. It’s 5 a.m. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t help you right now. King Gorm is asleep in his quarters, surrounded by twenty guards, each armed with the most lethal hexes. If I teleported into his room, I’d be struck down in seconds. If I’m dead, I can’t help you.

  Construct a spell to protect yourself, he replied.

  Again, my fist tightened involuntarily. I was beginning to seriously regret inviting the shade to share my body.

  I could do that, but remember, Gorm also has Levateinn. It would overpower any protection spell I could construct. We need to take a stealthy approach. Steal it from him without him noticing. We would do better with Ali’s help.

  The shade didn’t answer, but my muscles didn’t clench any tighter, which I took to mean that he understood.

  I rose and pulled the curtains closed before I stalked over to my bed. I threw myself on it, not bothering to undress. Sleep was more important, and I probably had only an hour left of it.

  As soon as I closed my eyes, Ali’s visage came to me. Dripping wet, fresh from the bath, her silver hair draped over her towel.

  I wanted to pull the towel off her.

  Why had I told her I would help her break the bond between our souls? I felt as if someone had hollowed out my chest. But perhaps I’d do anything she asked if it made her happy.

  I closed my eyes again, determined not to think of her. Sleep—that was the crucial thing. But just as I was drifting off, someone knocked loudly on my door.

  My eyes snapped open, and I snarled. I instantly looked to the runes I’d drawn on the door frame. They glowed softly. The door was locked.

  I slipped out of bed and snatched a dagger from my desk. The knock sounded again. Louder. Urgent.

  “Who is it?”

  “Sune and me,” Revna replied.

  I groaned. “I was sleeping.”

  “The king asked us to talk to you.”

  With a quick flick of my fingers, I unlocked the door.

  Revna and Sune strode in like they owned the place. Revna plopped herself onto the sofa, while Sune began to wander aimlessly around my room. Between the wandering and his vacant expression, he could almost have been mistaken for a draugr.

  “How well do you know the Night Elf?” said Revna.

  Every one of the muscles in my body tensed. “Which Night Elf?”

  Revna held up her right hand, then bent down her ring finger. She grinned, raising her eyebrows. “The one whose finger I cut off. I thought I saw you canoodling on the barge.”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  She leaned forward suddenly, like a snake striking. “She might end up injured if you don’t tell us what we want to hear. Father wants to know what the Night Elves are planning.”

  Her voice was like nails scraping inside my skull. “He can ask them himself.”

  “Sune, make him talk.”

  Suddenly, Sune was by my side. He tugged at the helm, and it began to grow hot, sizzling.

  Anger started roiling in me, and I had a very vivid image of myself hurling them off a Citadel tower.

  “You’re going to have to do what I say,” Revna trilled.

  Do you need my assistance? asked Ganglati. I can take over and temporarily deactivate the helm. A short break from the Helm, and we can hurt them.

  No. I don’t want them to know that I’ve found a way to sometimes break the spell.

  As you wish.

  I arched an eyebrow. I wouldn’t share any information with them even if I knew it. “I only know what you know. The Night Elves are planning some sort of footrace.”

  “There has to be more than that,” she said. “They’re not stupid.”

  I rose, towering over my siblings. I felt a flash of satisfaction as they both shrank away from me. “As soon as I know anything, you’ll be the first to hear,” I lied. “Now get the fuck out.”

  I would end them both soon enough, when they least expected it.

  Chapter 25

  Ali

  I rubbed my eyes as sunlight streamed into my bedroom. I glanced at a clock on the bedside table and, finding it was nearly eight o’clock, leapt up—breakfast was in ten minutes. After washing my face and changing into my leather outfit, I hurried down to the mead hall.

  I found the hall full of elves and, more importantly, the scent of food. Instead of servers, there was a buffet: a table piled with pastries, platters of hot eggs and sausages, even some fresh fruit.

  I’d been missing out on so many things in the caverns …

  I was piling sausages on my plate when Bo sidled up to me. “Have you tried this?” He held up a mug full of a steaming black liquid.

  I sniffed it, not recognizing the smell. “What is it?”

  “It’s called coffee.”

  “Coffee?” Something about it triggered a distant memory. When I was a child, my mother had told me stories about it—a hot drink made of beans that humans had loved. As a concept, it sounded pretty strange, but according to her stories, the humans had worshiped it like a god.

  I’d never actually drunk coffee myself, though, and neither had my mother. After Ragnarok, supplies had immediately run out, and it was impossi
ble to obtain.

  I sniffed the mug again. “Do you think this is actually coffee?” Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

  “No idea.” Bo pointed at a tall silver contraption on a nearby table. “I just got it out of that.”

  I put my plate of sausages down and hurried over to the coffee dispenser, then filled a cup and took a small sip. The flavor was not at all what I’d expected. Bitter and acidic. A bit like the juice of a rancid portobello mushroom. Discreetly as I could, I spat the rest of the mouthful back into the mug.

  “What do you think?” asked Bo, grinning a bit too broadly.

  Cheeky bastard knows it tastes worse than bat piss. “It’s not … not what I expected. I thought it would taste good.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my voice.

  “Right? The humans had super weird taste in food. Have you ever had haggis?”

  “No.”

  “Well, how about I tell you about it over breakfast?”

  I snatched up my plate of sausages and followed Bo to a nearby table. He sat down with his coffee cup warming his hands, waiting for me to get settled.

  Then, he looked me dead in the eyes. “So, you threatened to kill me.”

  I was beginning to realize I overestimated everyone’s ability to designate things as water under the bridge. You assassinate an emperor, you threaten to kill a friend, and it turns out people don’t simply forget it. Which, frankly, was deeply inconvenient for me.

  “Sorry about that; I didn’t have much of a choice.” I held his gaze. “I was worried you could misinterpret the fight.”

  “And why was that?” Bo leaned forward, maintaining eye contact. I had to give him some credit. It took serious balls to interrogate a professional assassin like this. “Do you know that I happen to know your brother, Barthol?”

  My jaw tightened. “What?”

  Bo took a sip of his coffee, grinning conspiratorially. “I was sent to the mines a week ago. The week before that, I was working with your brother. I got caught. He did not.”