Thyra looked down State Street. “If you hurry, you’ll be number one hundred and forty-six.”
I could feel blood streaming down my leg under my leather pants.
Clenching my jaw, I pushed forward. Twenty, ten, five yards remained. I gasped for air like a dying fish, but my leg wouldn’t keep going. I tumbled forward into the snow.
I was going to die here. Even before they had a chance to execute me, the cold or the blood loss or the draugr would get me.
But Galin had sacrificed himself for me. I wouldn’t let this chance go to waste.
Keep going, North Star.
The words emanated from somewhere deep in my brain. I pushed myself up on to my elbows. Army crawling the last three yards, I crossed the finish line at last.
I fell flat in the snow, breathing deeply. Thyra crouched by my side, and I groaned. I must have been moving on shattered bones.
“That was something else,” said Thyra.
I grimaced again at the pain. “I don’t fuck around.”
I wanted to ask her if she’d seen Galin, if he’d managed to get here, but that was probably a bad idea. So, I pushed myself up, scanning the snow drifts for him.
I’m pretty sure that was when I blacked out, because the next thing I remember, I found myself propped against a rusted fire hydrant. I heard the elves cheering, saw them pointing down State Street. I concentrated, willing my eyes to focus. A single Vanir ran toward us.
“Last one!” shouted a Night Elf standing next to me.
“What do you mean?” My voice sounded distant and hollow. How much blood have I lost, exactly?
“We’re at two hundred twenty-six elves! This is the final one! The rest will die in an execution.” She clapped her hands.
Panic climbed up my throat, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I looked up at the Night Elf. “Is Galin here?”
“The High Elf prince? I haven’t seen him.” She grinned. “Let’s hope he got eaten by the draugr, right?”
Gripping the frozen fire hydrant, I pulled myself into a standing position. My heart ached. Yes, I’d spent my whole life wanting to kill Galin, but he’d also saved my life several times. And now, I felt safe around him. I hungered to learn everything about him. I felt my soul splintering.
Around me, the elves were focused on the single running Vanir, cheering him on. Then, after a few moments, I noticed their shouts rising … they were cheering more wildly. I squinted at the track to see what had them so excited, and my breath caught.
Behind the Vanir, a second figure had appeared, running in great, galloping strides. A massive elf, shirtless, pants shredded and torn. His golden hair streamed behind him.
Somehow, Galin was alive.
The Vanir warrior glanced over his shoulder, then picked up his pace.
“Pity he’s never going to catch up,” said the Night Elf next to me. “Would have been an exciting finish.”
The Vanir raced closer, Galin running behind. With his blood-soaked clothes and his blond hair flowing out behind him, he looked like a rampaging Viking. But I didn’t think he could catch up. I forgot to breathe.
As he moved closer, I realized I recognized this particular Vanir. This was the very fucker who’d thrown the javelin into the air.
I was woozy with blood loss, but my mind became focused on the injustice of the situation. Galin had saved my life. The Vanir had tried to kill me. I needed to give Galin the upper hand, even if it was breaking the rules. Fuck the rules.
I took a step closer, my eyes locked on the Vanir. “Skalei.”
The warrior was twenty yards out. I swayed, balancing on my good leg.
“Fly true,” I whispered.
I flung the blade at the Vanir. He was running, but it slammed into his leg, just as I’d intended, slowing him down. With a scream of pain, he stumbled, clutching at his bicep. I’d been practicing my knife throwing, and it seemed like it was paying off.
I started to smile, but within moments, other Vanir were running for me. From behind, someone punched me hard in the skull. “Cheater!”
“Skalei,” I turned, ready to fight with whatever strength was left in me.
But before I had to land a blow, a shadow spread over me—a massive elf, blocking the sun.
“Get back,” growled Galin.
“The rules were clear!” shouted a Vanir. “In this trial, no thrown projectiles were allowed. She has forfeited her life.”
I stood unsteadily, looking at the Vanir—the Regent himself, his hawk on his shoulder as always. He was pointing a finger at me.
“You want to lecture me on the rules?” Galin’s voice was low and controlled, icy as the winds around us. “You who tried to have this very Night Elf murdered on the practice field.”
“That was an accident—”
“It was not.” Galin’s hand shot out, and he grabbed the hawk.
I stared. What was he doing?
The bird screamed, thrashing in Galin’s grasp. The Vanir were shouting, jostling each other. My leg screamed with pain, but I forced myself to remain upright.
Galin held the bird above his head and chanted in ancient Norse, and magic beamed around him. Screeching loudly, the bird bit and clawed at Galin’s arm, and the air hummed with electricity.
The body of the hawk began to twist and shiver. Its feathers fell away, and Galin laid it down in the snow. Its skin peeled open, and slowly, a woman rose from the pile of feathers and skin. Her gray hair hung in a braid down the back of her gray wool dress. Her lip curled in a snarl, green eyes glaring. Shadows filled crevices in her gaunt, wrinkled face.
Galin pointed. “And here we have the person who directed the spear. A hamrammr. A shape shifter. In the form of a hawk, she tried to kill Ali.”
The hag glared at Galin but didn’t speak.
Thyra shoved her way into the crowd, eyes flashing, “Not just a hamrammr. A seidkona. A witch. The Vanir have been using magic to help them win all along.”
“And so have you,” hissed the seidkona. “Just now, as I was flying above Faneuil Hall, I saw the girl step from a portal. You’ve been cheating, too.”
Thyra turned to me. “Is that true?”
I fell silent. Shit.
Thyra shook with anger, looking like she wanted to lunge through the snow to attack me.
The Vanir were starting to spread out now, slinking away. But King Gorm was moving closer, grinning. “So, both the Night Elves and the Vanir have been cheating.”
Galin shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as snow fell on his bare chest. “Yes. And the High Elves, too. I created the portal.”
“You what!” King Gorm’s fluting voice blared off key.
Galin looked at the night sky. “We all cheated. Seems like it cancels out.”
Silence fell over us.
Finally, Thyra spoke. “I find this acceptable.”
“What about him?” said the Regent, pointing at the man I’d stabbed with Skalei. “If he hadn’t been stabbed, he would have taken the last place. The prince cheated.”
Galin cocked his head. “It seems to me that you’ve had an extra soldier on your side all along.” He pointed to the feathers at the hamrammr’s feet. “That would mean that instead of two hundred and twenty-five elves, two hundred and twenty-six elves may survive this contest. Rounding up, of course.”
The Regent grunted. “Fine.”
“Icy Hel, Galin,” grumbled Gorm, his eyes blazing with rage. “Whose side are you on?”
Chapter 30
Galin
An hour later, I was back in my quarters, and Ali was in the care of a Night Elf healer. Now, I understood exactly who’d come to my room that night before the melee—the hamrammr. The witch had visited me disguised as Ali, and she’d escaped by turning into a bird.
So much made sense now. When we’d visited Vanaheim, we hadn’t seen any women. But they had been there, hidden. Witches in alternate forms.
I paced my room, trying to decide what to do.
<
br /> Take me to the girl. Ganglati hadn’t spoken for hours, and his voice startled me.
Why?
You told me you needed the girl to steal the wand.
I sighed aloud. Fine, let me scribe a portal. I wanted to see her anyway.
Quickly, I traced the rune in the air, and magic crackled over my skin as I stepped through into Ali’s living room. Despite the darkness, I could smell her clean scent in here.
A few moments later, the door to her bedroom suddenly creaked open, and she stood in the doorway. She wore her leather outfit, and Skalei gleamed in her hand. She looked ready to kill me, which was oddly sexy.
“Oh.” She slowly relaxed. “I thought you were a Vanir.”
Someone banged on the door from the hallway outside and barked, “Who’s there?” A male voice.
I went tense. We wouldn’t be able to say much in front of whoever that was.
“Just me!” Ali called.
“I heard voices.”
“Just talking to myself!” Under her breath, she hissed at me, “You need to leave now. Thyra’s having me watched.”
“Are you sure you’re okay in there?” The door creaked open, and I slipped out of sight, into her bedroom.
“I said I was fine,” I heard her say more firmly. “Don’t make me annoyed.”
“All right.” The voice now sounded a little nervous. “Just doing my job.”
As soon as I heard the door close, I stepped back into the room.
Ali’s silver eyes flashed with worry. “You have to go.”
“We both need to go. It’ll be quick, I promise.”
She let out a long sigh, and I caught the faintest hints of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “It’s really hard to turn down someone who faced a horde of draugr to save your life.”
“I was counting on that answer.” I began to scribe the portal spell. In seconds, it hummed in front of me.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk privately.”
I gestured at the portal, indicating she should step through. She flashed me a wry smile—like she wanted to be annoyed with me but couldn’t—then stepped through. I followed close behind.
When I came through, she was standing with her back to me, before a row of twenty-foot glass windows affording a spectacular view of Boston. Moonlight streamed over her silver hair, her form-fitting clothes. From where we stood, I could see both the frozen expanse of the Charles River and the marble walls of the Citadel.
Ali pressed her hands on the window, her breath clouding the glass. “This is amazing. Is this one of the old— What are they called again?” Her brow furrowed for a moment before she thought of the word. “Skyscrapers. But most of them are falling down.” Her eyes flicked up to meet mine as she figured out where we were. “Except for the Prudential Tower.” Ali breathed a low whistle. “Nice choice for a meeting spot.”
I gestured at the room we were in. “Exactly right. We’re on the very top floor of the Prudential Tower. A thousand years ago, this was a fancy restaurant. Rich humans would come here to eat expensive meals while they looked down on the city.”
“Are we safe?” She nodded at the enormous windows that ringed around us. “Anyone could see in, right?”
“No one can make it up here on foot. The elevators broke hundreds of years ago, and the stairs are blocked by ice. The only way in is by moth or portal, but we’re fifty-two stories up and the wind is fierce. Very few moths can fly high enough.”
“Okay,” said Ali, seemingly convinced by my explanation. “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”
Ganglati can you give me a hand?
Certainly, answered the shade.
Without speaking, I reached up and took off the Helm of Awe. I placed it on the floor in front of me, then took a step back.
Ali’s eyebrows furrowed, then suddenly, her eyes widened. “You figured out a spell to remove the helm?”
“Temporarily, at times. You didn’t notice when I helped you bury the body? I was able to walk around outside the Citadel then. Prior to that I had to get Gorm’s permission to leave the Citadel.”
“I didn’t think of it,” she said as she eyed the helm. “I guess traveling through portals is a bit disorienting for me. So, what kind of spell was it?”
I took a seat on top of one of the old restaurant tables. “I didn’t use a spell. There were none strong enough to break the bond.”
Ali cocked her head. There was something about the curiosity in her eyes that made her irresistible. “I don’t understand. How did you do it?”
“I had to enlist help.”
Ganglati, I said to the shade. Reveal yourself.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, I felt the shade move within me. Frigid and cold, he filled my veins with ice. Wisps of black vapor began to rise from my skin.
Across from me, Ali’s eyes widened, and I heard her whisper for Skalei on instinct. “Galin. What did you do?”
“I struck a deal.”
“You did what?”
My mouth opened, and Ganglati spoke through me in an icy voice. “It’s so nice to see you again, little Night Elf.”
Ali stared. I wanted to tell her not to worry, but Ganglati was in control of me now.
“You don’t remember me?” said Ganglati. “Marroc’s companion. We met in Helheim …”
Recognition sparked in her eyes. “The shade from Helheim.”
“None other,” said Ganglati.
“What did Galin agree to do for you?” said Ali suspiciously.
“Just a boon for my people. And I need your assistance,” added the shade.
She gripped Skalei tighter. “Oh, Hel no. You won’t even tell me what we’re doing?”
“I’ve heard about your little problem with the Wyrd.”
This got Ali’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it true that you want to break the bond that connects your souls?”
She crossed her arms, cocking her head. “Okay. What are you offering?”
“If you agree to help, I will take you to the Norns.”
Chapter 31
Ali
I stared at Galin—or, rather, the shade that controlled him. He was rigid, his back ramrod-straight. Black mist rose from his skin, and his hair swirled about his head. His beautiful golden eyes had turned pitch black.
As terrifying as he appeared, he’d just made a pretty compelling offer. A chance to break the bond that bound my soul to Galin’s.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
“I need you to steal Levateinn.”
Again? I crossed my arms. “And how would I do that?”
“I thought you might know, since you’re the expert thief and assassin.”
“Well,” I said, thinking quickly, “if I had Galin and his portal magic to help me, I might be able to do it. But how will I know you’ll follow through on your end of the bargain?”
“A shade cannot lie.”
True. “Okay, then I’ll consider it. But I’m going to need to speak with Galin first. Can you return him?”
Slowly, Galin’s eyes cleared, and the black vapor began to dissipate. He shuddered visibly. “That was unpleasant.”
I stepped closer to him. “Tell me what you agreed to do for the shade. Wait,” I said after a moment, “I think I know.” I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with the shade in Helheim. The memory sparked in my mind. “He wants you to raise his queen, Hela, the goddess of the dead. Isn’t that right? You said you could use Levateinn to bring her back, right?”
“Precisely.”
This seemed like a terrible idea. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to raise the dead goddess of the underworld? It seems like that might have consequences.”
He gave a shrug. “Probably not, but making safe decisions isn’t my strength.”
“I’m starting to understand that.” And yet, knowing Galin, I wondered if he had something els
e up his sleeve—a way out at the last moment—exactly like he’d done today with the portal. Getting out of insane situations clearly was his strong suit.
So how much confidence did I have in him to handle this?
With a shock, I realized that I was actually starting to trust him. But I’d keep this assessment to myself; if his plan was to turn the tables at the last second, he’d be hiding it from the shade.
I nodded. “Okay. You two want me to help you steal Levateinn. In exchange, he’ll take me to the Norns, so I can become the mistress of my own fate.” I shrugged. “I think it’s a shit deal. There’s no guarantee that the Norns will actually help me. And I believe you, but I’m not sure about this shade character.” I nearly said he seems a bit shady, but then thought the pun would annoy me more than anyone else.
“Look.” Galin scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his eyes gleaming. “There’s more than just our bond at stake here. If I can get Levateinn, then I can take over as king of the High Elves. The first thing I’ll do is break the wall that imprisons your people.”
Now that was something worth considering. Hope beamed in my chest, a star growing brighter. At last, my dream was within my grasp. Maybe this was it? Maybe it was my destiny. “Do you promise?”
“Of course.”
And there it was again—that strange realization that I trusted him. I smiled. “Okay. Now that you’re free of the helm, can’t you just open a portal? Should be a simple snatch-and-grab, right?”
“Unfortunately, no. King Gorm has thousands of runes protecting his quarters. The moment I open a portal in his room, it will be swarmed by guards.”
“So, what are your thoughts?”
“I think we should try some human magic.”
My forehead furrowed. Had he lost it? “Humans don’t have any magic. That’s why the High Elves have them completely subjugated. When Barthol and I were preparing to rob Silfarson’s Bank, we had to live with them. They mean well, but many of them still refuse to accept Ragnarok. They insist that something called ‘global cooling’ is the cause of the endless winter.”
“Human magicians do exist. Before Ragnarok, there was a subculture of humans who studied trickery. Specifically, sleight of hand. For example, they’d say they could make a coin disappear. But instead of actually doing magic, they'd distract the other human, and when they weren’t looking, they’d hide the coin in their palm. It would only appear as if they’d done magic.”
Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2) Page 14