by Farah Cook
The elves are known to be smart sorcerers and seal their magic in spell books. They hold the power of immortality and death – and they sense many things, including fear and love. I stand still when the queen catches me with her golden gaze.
I recognize the stabbing pain in my chest from the awakening, and the image resembles that of her silver long hair and glowing eyes, mysteriously hanging onto mine. She hides substantial rage under her wary expression. Frederick reaches for my hand, but I fold my arms across my chest jerking a little sideways.
“We have guests,my queen,” says the elf and releases us to the front of the stage where the queen sits pondering. She waves her hand and the gathering splits, breaking into two parties. One, the gloomy-looking elves with charcoal eyes and raven-black hair in rigid expressions. The other, shining in silver moonlight, is beautiful beyond measure – eloquent and graceful with honey-blond hair strands dancing in the wind. Blue eyes, green eyes and some even with brown eyes showing softer expressions on their faces.
“Guest or intruders? What business has a Veran and Goth in the kingdom of elves?” asks the queen and claps her hands together. Someone from the crowd sweeps in and ties a cape around me covering me up. I keep my chin high and pull off the cloak, showing my back. She rolls her eyes in disbelief and looks at the king elf, now standing next to her, his mouth wide open.
I take off the cloak and slip into my shirt again. The queen’s eyes following me sharply.
“Leave us!” shouts the queen and the gathering clears out. She gets up and walks slowly toward me, her mantle trailing on the flower path. Her long nails prickle my back. Astonished, she takes a step back and holds her hand in front of her mouth. “The actual map of the nine worlds forged by the Norse gods.”
“I have to get to the City of Vikings,” I say and slip into the cloak. I wonder what she’s seen to retract her hostility? I feel her thoughts trying to enter mine.
“Silly girl. Don’t you know – the only way to enter that city is to pass through the trolls of Norumb. Only they hold the keys to the golden gates of the old Viking city – that is, if you pass the test of the elves first.”
I reach into my satchel and take out the book I found in the cave earlier and believe is the real copy similar to the one Hildebrand gave me, and show it to the queen. The book is elvish, and I believe it’s been stolen from your kingdom.
“I’m not your enemy or the one who is trying to steal your wisdom. I have nothing against elves.”
“Where did you get this book from?” her eyes widen as she snaps it from my grip. I feel Frederick breathing heavily next to me. I know what haunts his mind.
“The person playing with your spells is your enemy and if you let us pass without the death test, I will give you his name.”
“Do you take me for an idiot?” asks the queen wickedly. “Why should I believe you?”
“She’s telling the truth,” says Frederick. “She was raised in the East.”
“Judith is nothing but an empty law for people of the East and has no value outside the Triangle,” says the elf king condescendingly. The queen switches her looks between Frederick and me. She has detected something and I am afraid her trust in us is fading even more.
“You love her and would say anything to protect her,” she says in a pompous tone. “Forbidden love – I’ve always wondered what drives mortal souls to love for something they cannot have.”
“Elves love only their own kin,” says Frederick. “You wouldn’t possibly understand…” The queen rustles the feathers of her arrows and pulls one from her quiver – cut in flawless and even lines she takes aim at my heart and without hesitating Frederick steps forward. He shakes his head and then turns to look at me. His deep-blue eyes, cold but not distant.
She moves to aim the arrow at Frederick’s heart, and without hesitating she shoots. I jerk to the floor, my heart in stinging pain. Frederick doesn’t lose his footing at first but when he sees me scramble to the ground he takes my head into his lap, while I gasp for air. Puzzled, the arrow sits firm in Frederick’s chest, but he’s not hurt. I am.
The queen squats down and lays her hand on Frederick’s chest. With unearthly whispers leaving her mouth the arrow begins to spin itself out. The pain eases in my heart and I crouch, rolling onto my feet. Frederick supports me with his arm and stares at me holding my face between his hands. He kisses me – a soft firm kiss from his full lips feels like life in my veins. My heart beats, revived, singing in joy his name, only his name. Frederick, Frederick, Frederick.
Astonished by the power of our love, which conquered the test of the elves, the queen swiftly wants to send us on our way. I recall Magnus’s warning and before I leave I have to remind myself – she did try to kill me. The assassin inside me wells with rage. She will not see you coming. I hear Magnus whisper in the wind.
As I turn around to leave the kingdom of the elves, I crane my neck anticipating danger. At first her face is serene. She knows I am on to her. The queen hisses at me with large fangs and about to lash with her claws, her large wings spread. I take the sword into my hand and strike her. She flies right above me, her wings larger than the crest of an ocean wave.
“Hurry,” I say. “Take cover!” I push Frederick to the side, as she blows out fire at full force. The shield of the sword protects me and I stand firmly before forcing my way forward without losing my footing. The fire is powerful and soon I begin to feel the heat.
Frederick whispers a spell, but his magic is useless here. Protected by their wisdom and knowledge, the elves have zones where magic will only work to their advantage. She tugs me with her hand, scraping my heels in the dirt. I have no power over her. During the awakening, I defeated the queen – she must know of my powers. I turn my wrists at her, but the arrows are inactive.
Black clouds and cawing birds gather above us. Undistracted, the hunger in her eyes grows stronger, and she pulls me into her wings, I slip and fall on her feathers and slice my sword across them. The blood taints the ground, and she shrieks. I lunge at her with my sword striking her neck. She flees, and with her broken wing she falls into the flowerbeds of her realm. Frederick runs toward me. Flushed, he stares at her with eyes wide open.
“Quick, do it now,” he says. “Cut off her head and claim her wisdom.”
“I can’t,” I say.
“Nora, you have to end her life, or you will die,” says Frederick. “The revenge of the elves is on you whether you like it or not.” I glare at the queen, counting her breaths. Her soul is immortal and will find a new vessel to survive, but her wisdom will be lost, unless I claim it and take off her head from her neck.
“Frederick—”
“What are you waiting for, assassin?” he says. “You’ve done this before. Do what you have to or we walk out in defeat.” I swing my sword and sweep it across her throat. Her head rolls to the ground and lands between my feet. “Claim it, Nora. The wisdom of elves is powerful.”
“I can’t,” I say feeling repulsed.
“You have to,” Frederick takes the top of my finger, and dips it into the queen’s blood, pooling around us soaking the green grass so it’s black.
“I’m not hungry for power, or wisdom. If this is what it does to you—”
“There’s no time for pep talk,” says Frederick. “This is the road you’ve chosen and I told you there would be blood.”
“No!” I say and dry the blood on my shirt. “I will not claim her wisdom.” I walk out of the elf kingdom feeling empty. I am a vicious killer. I’ve killed two people, and their faces will always haunt my memory.
A hidden door to Norumb – the home of the trolls – lies buried in the Jötnar region. Here the trolls guard their way of life, seeking isolation from all other creatures.
Passing through the forest at dawn, the misty fog cuts a silver line through the path that leads to Norumb. I walk next to Frederick, short of words. I have nothing that I want answered, only questions that he does not owe me any explanation fo
r.
He’s still vexed at me, I can tell by the look on his face. Stern and emotionally cold. If my heart didn’t belong to him, he would have died. With that alone I am convinced he was made for me and I for him. No rivalry or war can come between us. And with that the pain of separation that threatens us is suddenly the only bearable thing my mind seeks comfort in.
Hope is a foolish thing – it makes us believe in the things we never thought possible. And hope is a wonderful thing – it relinquishes in disguise only to rise again. Yes, I am buoyant, after all I am a Viking assassin and I have to have hope that the love Frederick and I share is the thing that will set us free.
We suddenly stop wading and he stares at me with a question. Why? I don’t answer. Instead I trudge ahead. He knows exactly why. Underneath my cold skin, I still have feelings. My purpose is not power, if it was, I’d be following the dark ways.
26
AUTUMN IS EARLY and the wind is stroking the trees arching over us as we draw closer to the Jötnar region – realm of the trolls. Mountains cut through the valleys giving the dense landscape an obscure sight. The green leafy woods are left behind, and the wetlands, swamps and bogs fill the ground and every step we take feels soft pulling us one step further down.
“Nora?” Frederick says as we walk. “I feel like we have to talk about the alliance between Verans and Lord Nourusa.” I remain quiet and lift my chin and march ahead of him. I make it my business to show my annoyance.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Frederick, because you thought it was right to keep something like this a secret to me.”
“If you give me a chance to explain…”
“You should have done that earlier,” I say making my walk brisker. “Nourusa is not just another evil lord – he’s also the most feared, powerful and dangerous creature who’ll control everything if he defeats us. You may think it’s a small thing to hide information from me, but this changes everything. Before, there may have been a small chance of hope that our clans could find a way to preserve peace. Your clan’s alliance to Lord Nourusa means war will be upon us no matter what.”
“And telling you this would have changed anything?”
“Plenty,” I say. “It could have guarded us better. There’s no way Magnus will see this coming. He has few men – hardly what you call an army. He’s relying on me to bring back those weapons.”
“Magnus holds the eye of Odin and I am on your side now,” says Frederick. “Just promise me, whatever you do, you will trust me.”
“Trust you?” I ask. “Yes, I trust you. I have no other choice because my heart beats in your chest.”
“Because you love me,” he says with a subtle joy and takes my hands into his. I gaze at him, his face open and honest as I’ve never seen it before. No mysteries or lies. He’s here with me – ready to die for me and where do I stand?
“What if—”
“Nothing,” he says. “No ifs and no more buts. Just let it be.”
“Do you trust me, Frederick Dahl?”
He smirks. “My dad told me never to trust a woman.”
“So, you don’t,” I say, “trust me?”
“I love you,” he says. “And I trust you, with all I’ve got.”
With that I let it be. Although the whole thing is playing on my mind and a strange sensation sinks to the pit of my stomach as if I’ve swallowed a giant rock. He loves me, and the words thrill me, but not as much they should for the distraction – the thought of Lord Nourusa is hanging over me like a black cloud.
After an hour of wading through the forest, the mountains are surrounding us. Jötnar region is a strange place, dry and dense on the inside, and humid and leafy on the outside – as if we’d entered a sharp and hollow shell. Mountain trolls are unpredictable, and as we walk we may have already alerted them to our presence. I’ve heard stories of the trolls of Norumb. Multiple heads, deformed bodies, claws and fangs sharper than razors. Harmless unless they work up an appetite to eat you. But they’d eat anything.
Suddenly Frederick wiggles his ears, and lifts himself slowly off the ground, pulling with his hands. It’s the first time I’ve seen him using magic openly. He’s high above the ground, with a panoramic view over the mountains.
“Do you hear that?” he asks.
The sounds of someone singing echo through the valley – a whistling and humming. Frederick turns around and now we both hear it. Someone is singing a song, joyful and in high spirits. He eases down, like a dark angel, his arms spread out. He returns my gaze, his tattoos black and mysterious.
“There are fields of magic,” says Frederick. “Electric wires in the air and I feel it. In the West, the wires are limited, but in places like Jötnar, they are everywhere.” He smiles as if he’s found a new source of life. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for Frederick to use magic to protect us, and although we need everything we can get standing defenseless against these creatures, I don’t like the sound in his voice.
“In the kingdom of the elves?” I ask. “Were there no wires there?”
“It was different there,” he says. “It’s protected and coded. The reason why Hildebrand wants to decipher elves’ spell books is so he can gain access to their world and powerful sources of magic.”
He wants more than that, I tell myself. I should have dropped his name to the elf queen while she was still alive, but she might have pulled it out of my mind – her breaking and entering was successful. I felt her voice inside my head and who knows what else she discovered. How else could she know about Frederick and me? I fear her return from the dead as she will come for me. I know she will.
“What about the trolls?”
“Singing spells. Do you hear it?” I tune in and hear a lot of nonsense getting louder. “They sing to seduce…”
In the midnight mountains! Troll! Troll! They call me!
My dwelling is a mountain! Troll! Troll! They call me!
I shall swallow the heaven-wheel! Troll! Troll! They call me!
“Frederick, that sounds like a hungry troll to me.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll not eat us,” he says with a mocking leer. “Their spells to trap humans don’t work on us, we’re a superior race.”
“Is that why the mulhog didn’t eat me that day in the Forbidden Areas?”
“Mulhogs are sworn predators and usually reside in the shadows,” says Frederick. “How you met one still startles me.”
“Why? What’s so special about them?”
“Mulhogs belong to the lowest Garm clan and would be stupid to eat Goths or Verans for that matter.”
“What happens if they do?” The singing gets louder as we enter the mountain, wide and tall with dry bushy branches scratching the surface of the cave’s mouth.
“They’ll transform,” says Frederick. “Mulhogs have been cursed for hundreds of years – eating our kind will turn them into hideous little goblins.”
Thumping, rhythmic pounding of spears closes in on us when we enter the cave. The sun is the last thing we see, when the seal covers the cave’s mouth. We’re trapped.
I hear water dripping from the heart of the mountain into small pools of water. Inside as I look around a great discovery lies by my feet. We’ve reached Jötnar, which is a breathtaking and beautiful crystalized limestone cavern with flowing streams, deep pools of crystal-clear water and towering columns and majestic stalactites adorning the unusual cave.
I lift my head and stone soda straws hang like thick threads above me. Behind the stalagmites and columns are the glistening eyes of trolls. Large olive-green eyes, small heads in twos and threes springing out from one neck. Some step forward while others are hiding.
Frederick shuffles me to the side, and it upsets me. He doesn’t need to protect me, and if the fields of magic are in abundance here I wonder where that puts me? I look down at my wrists – conked out, my secret raider weapon doesn’t work. I rub the tattoo on my wrist and take a step forward, standing side by side with Frederick, my fin
gers drumming the pommel of my sword.
The trolls look harmless at first, until one by one each of them steps out and gathers around us like ants. Pointy ears and wide big eyes, big feet and hands, trolls are skillful craftspeople. They clutch onto metal clubs, hammers, spears and axes.
A taller-looking troll stands before us with red hair and emerald-green eyes. He’s an ugly creature, with thick leathery skin. He grunts loudly like a pig unable to speak before he groans.
“What matter brings humans to our world?” he asks.
Frederick whispers unearthly words and pushes the palms of his hands in front of him. Trolls are not particularly smart creatures and it is evident that Frederick’s gesture of magic means nothing to them. A stillness runs through the cave and light shining from the crystalized limestone reflects in the trolls’ eyes as they widen and shift color from green to tawny.
“We want the key to the City of Vikings,” says Frederick as he clears his throat.
“Trolls of Norumb you come to and ask for keys to City of Vikings,” he grunts louder and grinds his teeth so my ears ache. “Magic don’t work on magic. Your spells will reverse, yes, they will. They will reverse.”
“I doubt it, troll,” says Frederick condescendingly. “Just because you repeat yourself doesn’t mean it will happen, troll. It will not happen for I know about your magic spells.”
The troll pulls a face.
“Sumras is my name, Sumras,” he says and beckons for his troll patrol to come closer circling around us. “In Norumb the mountains are deep, very deep they are and lead to forest open, but you know that already, yes you do,” says Sumras and glares into Frederick’s eyes. “You, yes you,” he points at Frederick. “I’ve seen you – you’ve been here before. Yes, you were here.”
“How do you know?” I say.
“Trolls see and hear everything above mountains. We see and hear…”
“Yes, we got it,” says Frederick impatiently. “We hear you, we hear you.”