My father grinned, enjoying what he perceived as a victory. “I have to give you credit, Galin, you came close. But to beat me, you need to be focused on the real world. You always had your mind on runes and spells. The gods. You were better as a lich than as an elf, because at least you’d forgotten the gods.”
The troll squeezed. I had a plan; I just needed to goad him. “The Norns have decreed that I will rule the High Elves, Gorm. I’ll bury you in the snow.”
Gorm was shaking with rage now. “You don’t deserve a death at my hand. A troll is too good for you. I should feed you to the dogs.”
The troll was pressing harder. I was barely able to speak, “Is that what you said to my mother? Before you had her murdered for choosing a better lover?”
Gorm’s grin disappeared in an instant. “Do not speak of your mother in my presence.”
“Still embarrassed that she found you boring?”
Gorm was nearly screaming with rage now. “Bring him to me!”
Porgor grunted and began to shuffle forward. Beneath his massive feet, the floor shook like the skin of a drum. My father’s eyes bored into me, filled with pure, unadulterated rage. He'd drawn a dagger from his belt.
I flashed him a wry smile. “You can’t imagine how happy it makes me that you are not my real father.”
Under the light of the stained glass, Gorm’s eyes burned with anger.
Porgor took another thumping step directly in front of the towering window. The tip of Levateinn was aimed straight at the glass now.
I shouted, “Kaun!” and a great gout of flame rushed across the room, melting his sacrilegious image.
The breaking glass revealed the snowy landscape outside, eddies of snow blowing wildly. I stared out at the eternal winter. The ruins of the city spread out beneath us, tiny buildings buried in snow, brick homes with icy roofs, the husks of the frozen skyscrapers.
In the distance, the shining ice of the Charles River reflected the last amber rays of the sun. My salvation.
“Blrooooo—!” Porgor’s howl was cut short when he noticed the light. He stopped moving, his beady eyes staring out the window. Caught in the glow of the setting sun, the skin over his knuckles began to harden into solid stone.
With a grunt of pain, the troll released me. The floor shook as he stepped back into the shadows.
“Porgor!” shouted Gorm, panic rising. “I order you to get back here and kill him!”
Porgor grunted a final time, his eyes flashing red hot as he looked at my father. Then, with a final step, he disappeared into the hole he’d made in the floor.
Gorm howled with rage and lunged for me, his dagger aimed at my chest, but I easily dodged out of the way. He sailed past me, losing his balance. I pointed the wand at his chest.
As he picked himself up, his eyes locked on Levateinn, “You wouldn’t dare. This is regicide.”
“But I will be the new king.” I raised Levateinn and shouted, “Yr!”
The bolt of magic struck him in the chest, slamming him backward. Smoke rose from his torso, and the scent of burnt flesh curled around me.
Chapter 43
Ali
The Regent was leading me to the Vanir temple, but I still didn’t know why he’d saved me. And I didn’t know what the fuck had happened to Galin. Just before we’d gone through the portal, I thought he was about to slam into a wall. I worried for him, but at this point, I knew one of his most defining characteristics: getting out of near-death situations at the last second. I tried to convince myself that he was probably fine. He’d gotten out of worse, hadn’t he?
As for me? I had a strong sense that I was being led to my death.
This seemed less like a rescue and more like an abduction. After all, I’d killed their Emperor. What was the Vanir punishment for regicide? Being hanged, drawn and quartered, slowly tortured to death? Pierced with a thousand arrows? Drowned in boar’s blood? I had no idea. It would probably be excruciating, and dread stole my breath.
The temple rose before me, and fear made my heart skip a beat.
We entered, and I stared around, panic crackling up my spine. When I’d visited it before, it was largely empty, a sandstone mausoleum with a giant hall full of golden light and not much else. But now, it was packed with Vanir warriors standing in rows. Hundreds of elves, each wielding a curved saber. Each of them here to watch me die—I was now certain of it.
The Regent led me to the front of the temple, then turned to face his men. His hawk—the hamrammr—flew down to rest on his shoulder. He spoke to me and to his men. “In our kingdom, bloodline does not matter, only strength—power. Only the strongest of our warriors can become our leader. If you kill the Emperor, that is the first step to becoming the new ruler. If you then withstand three attempts on your life, you become the rightful heir to our realm. We have sent assassins twice. Our witch sent the spear at you. You withstood all three trials. You are the North Star we have been waiting for.”
“The what?” I stammered.
“The North Star,” he repeated. “Our savior, as it is written in our chronicles. The one we have been awaiting. You will lead us to greatness.”
I felt as if the world was tilting beneath my feet. The North Star?
There was a puff of feathers and then the seidkona stood before me, her eyes blazing with anger. “Not yet. I only sent one assassin.”
I shook my head, trying to get my bearings. She was lying, and even though I felt dazed by this turn of events, I knew I had to master control of the situation. This was life or death. “You sent an assassin to my room, personally directed a spear at my leng, and lets not forget the mob of Vanir that attacked me during the footrace. This is why you joined the Winnowing, isn’t it?” I said, finally putting it all together. “You wanted to kill me yourself so that you could claim the throne?”
The Regent glared at the seidkona. “That is enough. I kept very close track of the assassination attempts. There were three. Three trials, as required. Our North Star is with us.”
The seidkona sputtered, “But the Night Elf hasn’t been thoroughly tested. She cannot lead us. We must amend the rules in this situation.”
My legs felt weak, shaking. But this moment was a crossroads, a test in its own right. I could either crumble, or I could seize control—the way a true leader would. If I could control the Vanir, I could save the Night Elves in the caverns.
The Vanir and the High Elves were still deadlocked in a tie. If the Vanir could still win the final tiebreaker—with me at the helm—freedom would be ours at last. My mind was whirling a million miles a minute, but I had to get control, immediately.
Swallowing hard, I raised myself to my full height. I schooled my features into a serene expression. “Do not speak to your Empress that way, witch,” I said firmly. “And do not doubt me. I stabbed your Emperor in the heart. He was dead before he began to burn. You have sent assassins after me twice, and you personally tried to kill me on the practice field. All three attempts failed.”
A hush fell over the hall.
The seidkona’s eyes widened. “But she is a Night Elf!”
“The law is clear,” said the Regent. “And we will not amend it. She killed the Emperor and withstood three trials. The Night Elf is heir to the realm.”
Hope swelled within my chest like a sea breeze filling a sail.
In a rush, the Vanir warriors surrounded me, shouting my name and banging their swords on their shields. The noise was deafening, but I had to focus. We still had a Winnowing to win.
“Stop!” I said.
Immediately, they fell silent.
“You accept me as your Empress?” I asked.
“Yes!” the warriors shouted in unison.
“We are at your service!” someone shouted.
“Our lives are yours,” said another.
I locked eyes with the Regent. I knew the seidkona wasn’t about to let this go. “We must speak in private. In an hour. And between now and then, I want you to send warriors t
o look for Galin.”
An hour later, I was sitting in the Emperor’s chambers dressed in fresh clothes: black leather pants and a dark silver shirt.
I sat at an oak table by a window that overlooked rolling fields. On the table before me was wine, hot venison stew, and a salad of tomatoes and dandelion greens. I was starving, but before I could bring myself to eat, I needed answers.
“What is the news of Galin?” I asked the Regent, my heart hammering.
The Regent shook his head. “He has not been found. At your request, one of our warriors flew to the bottom of the well. He retrieved the body of one of our men, but that is all. Galin, it seems, did not fall to his death.”
I loosed a sigh. Good. Now, my stomach started rumbling, and I dug into the rich meal. Gods, it was amazing. “And you locked the seidkona away, right?”
“As you commanded, Empress,” said the Regent. “But these are not the most pressing matters.”
I beg to differ.
He shook his head again. “We need to make your position as Empress official. We must arrange for a coronation.”
“Why?”
“It will ensure your safety. The Vanir will not touch you once you are crowned.”
I felt blindsided, my mind still on the Winnowing. I didn’t feel like an empress—still like a soldier who had a final battle ahead of me. “Can we make this coronation fast? After the ceremony is over, we must prepare for our final trial with the High Elves. We must win the Winnowing. Can we go down to the throne room and do this coronation now?”
“There is no throne room, Empress. Your power comes from the land—from Vanaheim’s mountains, plains, and forests. You must ask them personally that they recognize you as Empress. Then, you will be secure.”
I sighed. “How exactly does that happen?”
Eight great stones ringed us. Nearly as tall as the treetops, they towered over the grass of the meadow. Beyond them, the verdant forest stretched out over rolling hills. It had rained recently, and I could smell the fresh pine and wet earth. Clouds hung low above us, misty and gray. The air was completely still. It felt like the world was holding its breath. Waiting for what was to come next.
Meanwhile, impatience was rising within me, my mind still on the Citadel.
The Regent stood before me, his cloak pulled tight. He held a simple wooden crown in his hand. With a slight nod, he indicated that I should kneel. Then, holding the crown above me, he spoke in a clear voice.
“Astrid, daughter of Volundar. With this crown, you become Empress of the Vanir. You take up the mantle once worn by our gods: Freyja, Freyr, and Njord.”
The Regent placed the crown on my head. And at that moment, I felt a surge of power within me, like a light piercing the darkness. I forgot about the Citadel, the Winnowing, about the caverns. Warmth and light beamed down my body, filling my limbs, my bones. I knew it then, down to my marrow. Strange as it seemed, this was my destiny. I felt myself melding with the land—the lush green forests, the undulating hills and the golden sunlight. The spirits of Vanaheim were calling to me, whispering around me, filling me with joy.
When I opened my eyes again, the memory of the Night Elves rushed back into me. And I started to understand. I would lead them here. This could be our home. As Night Elves, we would live in the real light of the moon and stars, under an open night sky. I would join our two kingdoms.
“Now, rise, Empress of Vanaheim, and meet your people.”
I stood slowly, but I saw no people, just the ringstones. What people? For some reason, my heart was pounding in my chest. Not exactly fear, but something close to it. I stole a glance at the Regent. He was still as a statue.
Then, I saw it: a low fog creeping out from between the trees. It drifted over the grass of the meadow, slipping like water between the stones. I shivered as mist wound around my ankles.
The mist thickened, and the light dimmed. Cold, damp air slid over my skin.
The crown felt heavy on my head.
Around me, the colors of the forest faded; the smell of the pines vanished. The only thing I could see was the ring of stones looming above me. Under my feet, the soft grasses turned hard.
A footstep crunched on gravel.
“Empress.” It was a new voice, cracked and brittle.
From between the stones stepped an ancient crone. She was tall and bony, with white hair that fell in thin wisps to her shoulders. She wore a ragged gray dress, and a small rucksack was slung over her shoulder. Slowly, she shuffled towards me, towering over me.
“Are you a seidkona?” I asked, nerves sparking.
“My name is long forgotten.” The crone fixed me with a pair of shining blue eyes.
I stiffened. They were the exact same color Galin’s had been when he’d been a lich.
The old woman smiled. “You have nothing to fear from me, dear. I am here to help you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You are the new leader of the Vanir, the first Empress in a thousand years. You’ll need all the help you can get, correct?”
Cautiously, I asked, “What are you offering?”
The crone’s smile widened. “I’m offering the thing you most desire. A chance to start fresh. A clean slate.”
“Why?” If there was one thing I'd learned, it was that nothing was simply free.
“Because the leader of the Vanir cannot be encumbered. The ruler of the realm must be unbound. Don’t you know who I am now?”
I frowned. “No idea.”
“Silly girl. You’ve been looking for me. And now that I’m finally here, you don’t recognize me?”
I stared at the crone, completely confused.
She grinned, revealing a row of gray teeth. “Think hard, dearie. You’re a clever girl.”
Finally, it clicked in my mind. “Ah. You’re a Norn? A weaver of Wyrd?”
The crone nodded. “You look chilled. I’ll brew some tea that will warm your bones.” She unslung the rucksack. Dropping the bag next to her, she slowly lowered herself to the gravel and pointed at the misty grass. “Sit just there. I’ll pour.”
I took my place opposite her, crossing my legs. With a skeletal finger, she traced kaun. Instantly, flames sprang up from the stones by her side.
The Norn dug into her bag, retrieving a small, cast-iron teapot and a pair of old mugs. She placed the teapot on top of the fire, then with spider-like fingers scribed a rune I hadn’t seen before. The pot hissed with steam as water filled it.
Then, she dug around in her rucksack until she found a leather pouch. From it, she dropped a handful of herbs into one of the mugs, then handed it to me.
Steam began to rise from the teapot, and she poured the boiling water into my cup. “I’m ready to sever the bond whenever you are. The link between your soul and Galin’s.”
I felt a strange twisting in my heart that I didn’t really understand. But this was what I wanted. Wasn’t it? “Really?”
She reached again into her rucksack. This time, she withdrew a ball of gray yarn the same color as her dress, as well as a silver pair of scissors.
I stared at the scissors. If the connection was severed, I could be master of my own destiny. I’d know if I actually loved him or if it was simply magic that drew me to him.
I’d be able to focus on freeing the Night Elves. And as Empress of the Vanir, I’d be able to protect them. They could come to Vanaheim. I’d seen the open plains, the vast forests—there was plenty of room. My brethren could soak in the warm sun, run their hands through the prairie grasses, breathe in the scent of the ancient trees. Under my protection, they would be free, safe, and happy.
I could truly be the North Star, for both the Vanir and the Night Elves.
But what was it that made me hesitate? Why hadn’t I already told her to cut that thread? Was the Wyrd fighting back even now?
“Leading a people always requires great sacrifice,” said the Norn quietly. “Your duty is bigger than you are. There are great snarls in the Wyrd for you to untangle; both your peoples nee
d your full attention if they are to survive.”
I looked at the ball of yarn in her hand and at the razor-sharp scissors in the other.
“Cut me free,” I said.
The Norn smiled, and again, I saw gray teeth the color of death. Then, she raised the ball of yarn, drew out a single strand, and snipped it off.
I gasped as a great sense of hopelessness lanced through my heart, a shattering sense of loss. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. Worse than my imprisonment in the Audr Mines, worse than being eaten by Nidhogg. It felt worse, even, than the deaths of my parents.
Had I just made a terrible mistake?
Never in my life had I felt so alone.
Chapter 44
Ali
The mist dissipated, and I found myself once again standing in the stone circle with the Regent, grief splintering my chest.
“Where did you go?” he asked, looking at me strangely.
“To see the Norn.”
The Regent frowned, looking perplexed. “The fairies needed to meet you, but they have come and gone. They will return later to give you their blessing. They remember you fondly and are hoping you have new music for them. Apparently, they’re getting tired of singing some song called ‘Halo.’”
I smiled. “I have a new one they’re going to love.”
“They’ve disappeared for now. We must come back later.”
He led me back through the forest, and as we walked, I asked him all about the realm. I learned that the Vanir weren’t completely united. Though I was the Empress, thousands of years ago, they’d broken into four main clans. Various clans and factions complicated things further.
“Keeping them all in line,” the Regent explained, “is going to be a full-time job.”
“There must be a significant risk of assassination if it gets you the crown,” I said. “How do I know that someone won’t leap over the table, stab me in the heart, and declare himself new Emperor of the Vanir?”
Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2) Page 19