by S. T. Bende
You’ve got this, Elsa, I assured myself. Just keep everyone calm enough to get through this exchange. You’ve got Brynn and Tyr at manageable anger levels—if you can just keep Forse from going berserker, and hold Tosk and his minions at bay for a few more minutes, we’ll be back home and this will all be over. I sent another shot of cooperative energy along the perimeter of my aura, praying some part of it would be absorbed by the dark elves, but it all returned to me, untouched. Dang it.
“If that’s settled, we’ll be on our way. Clear out before the Bifrost—”
Tyr’s warning was cut off by a guttural growl. I froze as Tosk launched the crystal at the cliff directly behind us. The stone shattered against the black surface, raining down shards in a gravity-defying arc. Tyr, Forse, and Brynn quickly closed ranks around me, but their focus was misdirected. As one of the shards flew over Runa, she leapt off the ground and ripped off her hood. Red curls tumbled free, cascading down the back of her leather vest and stopping at her waist. As she leapt, Runa opened her mouth. The shard landed on her tongue, and when her feet touched the ground, her skin sparkled for a moment, as if the crystal had infused her with its brilliance. She pulled her wrists away from each other, tearing free of her handcuffs and twisting out of Forse’s grasp in one quick movement.
“Skit.” Forse turned toward me and dove, his arms outstretched to pull me close. I released my grounding and leapt toward him. As I did, I sent another calming pulse through my aura in a futile attempt to soothe his panic and help him make the most level-headed choices. But before he could port us out of danger, Runa held up a hand. A beam of light shot from her palm. It struck me in the chest and wrenched me away from my protectors.
“Arugh!” I cried out as the beam seared my flesh, pressed between two rib bones, and squeezed my heart in a vise-like grip. The organ thudded in protest as the beam drew me forward, pulling me with unfathomable force. I reached for my dagger to cut myself loose, but the beam shot through my arms, immobilizing them, as I was dragged toward the only goddess in the realms I truly feared.
It must have been my absence of love for Runa that enabled her to take me. I’d felt that same fear for the only other creature who’d ever managed to hurt me—Fenrir.
The mortals were right. Hate wasn’t the enemy—fear was.
“Elsa!” Forse dropped low in a crouch as the beam ripped me farther from his reach. He launched off his toes at the same time as my brother ducked his head and barreled toward Runa. The closer they got to the beam, the faster it vibrated, sending me flying at Runa. It only took a second to reach her side, and once I was there she dug into my arms with her awful man-hands. I was barely able to cry out for Forse before Runa ported us out of the field, and into an abyss so dark, it looked like a black hole.
For all I knew, it was.
CHAPTER SIX
“HEI?” THE DARKNESS SWALLOWED my voice, before shooting it back. From the amount of time it took to echo around, I deduced I was in a small room—maybe three-by-three meters, if it was square. I was curled in a ball on a hard floor, my arms cradling my torso. My ribs were still tender from Runa’s blue beam assault.
Tyr! Can you hear me? I shouted for my brother inside my head, and waited. Tyr! After a beat, I pushed myself to a seated position, ignoring the residual pain in my chest. Tyr? My spirits sank as I realized he wasn’t going to answer. Wherever I was, the location must have held enough dark magic to block his telepathy…or maybe he was busy dealing with the evil elves Runa left behind. Either way, things were not looking good.
“Hello?” I called out loud, this time paying attention to the way the sound traveled above me. The ceiling was high. Six meters? More? It was impossible to tell when it was pitch black. I opened my palm and held it face up at chest level. Calling on one of my more mundane—albeit practical—abilities, I closed my eyes and summoned a glowing orb of light. My hand began to heat, and a faint vibration ran along my fingers. Any moment now, I’d hear the pop, and the room would be bathed in a faint white glow.
My brother got to fly, and I was an immortal flashlight. Odin’s sense of equity was questionable.
“That’s odd,” I murmured as I opened my eyes. The room was still black as night. Where was my orb? I furrowed my brow and focused on my fingertips. The tingling sensation confirmed my magic was still within me, so why couldn’t it summon the light? Maybe…
A chill ran up my arm and wrapped around my heart. No. It would take a lot of darkness to mute my magic. Did Runa take me to Helheim? Or did she find a way to summon enough darkness to cloak a building in Svartalfheim? It was a dark realm, sure, but nowhere near dark enough to cancel out my magic. Oh gods, could it mute my abilities too? I pushed my energy outside my cell, scanning the area for other signatures. My bubble recoiled as it bumped against a being a floor beneath me, emitting a pulse of malice. Thank Odin. I might have encountered a hostile element, but at least my magic was the only thing that was muted…my energy-based abilities remained intact. I supposed it made sense. Summoning my orb required I access light magic, which could be muted by a surplus of dark magic. But energy was a universal truth, not governed by the laws of magic or affected by anything beyond the user’s will. Energy followed intention, and so long as I remembered that, my energetic abilities would be strong enough to manifest my desired outcome.
And right then, I intended to manifest that we all find our way safely back to Arcata. Fast.
After I pulled my energy back, I continued my assessment. My cell was so dark I’d have thought my eyes were sealed. I blinked against the cold air, willing my body to fight off the chill coming from my right. Hold on. I inched across the rough, uneven floor. It felt as if it was made of stone, and if the smattering of pebbles beneath my fingers was any indicator, the construction job had been a hasty one. My hands pressed on until I came to a wall. I moved up the rocky surface, and followed the curvature of the room in a careful exploration. Interesting. The room is round. I paused when the stone turned to wood, and knocked quietly on the surface of what I assumed to be the door to determine its density. My knuckles made a low thud, and I knew the barrier was too strong to break through without a heavy tool. My palms lightly traced the door’s surface, and I made a note of the metal rectangle at face level. It must have opened from the other side—maybe it was some kind of a window so my captors could look in. For now, it was sealed shut, and I took advantage of the alone time to complete my evaluation.
The stone picked up where the door ended, and as I circled back to where I’d started, the draft grew stronger. I moved my hands upward until I felt the square-shaped break. Thank Odin. The room had a small window, sealed with thin metal bars. I didn’t know how this would figure into my escape plan, but it sure as snow didn’t hurt things.
Plus, it meant I had fresh air. Even if that air was freezing.
I ran my fingers across the metal bars. They were close enough together that I’d be able to fit my forearm through, but not much more. Climbing out wasn’t going to be an option. Besides, I didn’t know where the window led. Svartalfheim had one sun that only shone on the realm a few hours a day during the winter, and no moons. This meant the realm was blanketed in blackness most of the time. My friends would be able to use technology or their extra abilities to create light, but so long as I couldn’t summon my orb, I was literally in the dark. Fabulous.
I shoved my forearm through the bars in case the block only worked inside this cell, and made one more attempt to produce light from my palm. When my orb refused to appear, I accepted my temporary fate. Darkness it is. Move on to assessing an escape route. I dropped to the ground and patted the stone surface until I found a pebble. Picking it up, I moved carefully back to the window, and felt the walls until I found the opening. I pressed my cheek to the metal bars so my ear settled between them, and dropped the pebble out of the window, listening carefully as it fell. My heart plunged as the silence stretched on. When I finally heard the faint plunk of the rock hitting water, I presse
d my back to the wall and slid down.
Mom had read me plenty of Midgardian fairy tales in my childhood—the mortals’ tales were much more lighthearted than our own, and Mom chose to infuse our lives with joy over fear, whenever possible. But for all the times I’d asked for the story about the princess locked in a tower…well…I suddenly wished I’d been more partial to the one about the Snow Queen. Or the one where the servant girl falls in love with the handsome prince, and lives happily ever after with a closet full of fabulous shoes.
But there was no sense in dwelling, when I needed to ascertain exactly whose not-so-ivory tower I was locked in. Then I could call my friends, enlist their help to break me out of here, and put this whole ordeal behind me.
I folded my hands in my lap and closed my eyes, preparing to push my energy outward until it came into contact with the malicious being I’d felt earlier.
But before I’d finished grounding myself, a sing-song voice came from the other side of the door. “Well, don’t you look relaxed.”
The creak of metal let me know the viewing square in the wooden door was opening. I stayed where I was, only moving enough to open my eyes. When I did, candlelight illuminated Runa’s angular face through the window. The light cast an orange hue on her skin, and made her crimson hair look like it glowed.
Sure, she was pretty. But what had Forse ever seen in her?
“You might as well release me now. My friends will be coming for me.” I spoke matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Runa’s mouth turned up in a cruel grin.
“You want them to come here? If you wanted a fight, you could have just had it back at the mountain. Why drag everyone all the way out to…where are we, exactly?”
“Nice try, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Tosk and Bagatha are having a little fun with your friends as we speak. If they survive what the dark elves have planned for them, I’ve got a few games of my own I’m going to play while they hunt for you.” The candle flickered, and Runa’s mud-colored eyes reflected the flame. Hate shot at me, the emotion so strong it nearly broke through my protective bubble.
“Why are you doing this?” I kept my voice even.
“Because you’re hiding my dog.”
“Fenrir?” My pitch shot up, betraying my surprise. “He’s my dog, or he used to be. Now he’s a prisoner of Asgard. And if you want him so much, why did you trade him for the stone?”
“We knew you’d never hand him over willingly, so we asked for the stone in his place. That crystal gave me the powers I needed to capture you, and now you’re going to take me to Fenrir. The effects of this crystal will wear off, but the dog…” Runa chuckled. “His effects last forever. Don’t they, Elsa?”
Rage bubbled inside me like a hot spring, and it took every bit of willpower I had to not react. I drew a cleansing breath, inhaling more forcefully than I would have liked, before exhaling. When I was positive I was in control of my faculties, I allowed myself to speak.
“We’ll never give you Fenrir.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you will.” Runa’s eyes narrowed. “Which will make Tyr responsible for the fall of everyone he loves. And your precious boyfriend will know he stood by and let it happen. If only he’d been a better judge of character when he was dating me.” Runa threw her head back and laughed.
I leapt to my feet and reached for my dagger. My hand closed around nothing, and I patted my waist frantically. Where is it?
“What’s the matter, goddess? Missing this?” Runa raised her hand. My dagger dangled between two fingers.
“When did…” Ugh. She took it while I was unconscious.
“Do I look like an idiot? I confiscated these when I brought you here.” Runa held both hands up to the window. My phone and my dagger glinted in the sliver of light. I lunged for them, my hands reaching through the metal bars to close around my lifelines home, but Runa stepped back before I could make contact. “I’ll let the Asgardians find you eventually, but I plan to have some fun with them first. A lot of fun.”
Before I could respond, Runa jammed my arms back through the bars and slammed the window shut, encasing me in darkness once again. The rage turned to a swirl, bile churning in my gut as I took enough cleansing breaths to blow down the world tree, Yggdrasil. No way was that wench—I mean, that creature of Ymir—going to hurt another soul.
Especially not my friends.
I pressed my pointer finger to my wrist and murmured into the com. “Call Tyr.”
And then I waited.
* * * *
When a full minute went by and my arm was still just an arm, I gave up. There was no sense in drawing attention to the com in case Runa came back. It rang loud and clear on my end, a testament to Mia’s älva dust-free design—the device worked even where dark magic rendered light magic useless. My inability to make contact with my brother must have been because of a problem on his end; maybe he was still in the heat of his battle. I’d have to rely on my abilities if I wanted a line out of here.
I grounded myself and set a protection around my aura. When it was secure, I pushed my energy outward, searching for the mind signature I knew almost as well as my own. All of Svartalfheim looked the same to me, and I tore across mile after mile of dark-sooted plain. An eternity passed as I scanned the ground for my friends. I could have been traveling in circles, for all I knew; the sky was the same black void as the ground. The only light cutting through the Svartalfheim night came from the homes of the occasional settlement, and the parliament building. Hold on. The parliament building? If the map Tyr made us memorize after last night’s dinner was correct, that would mean I was three kilometers due north of our drop-in spot. If I could find the outcropping where Runa had captured me, I could follow my friends’ energy trails until I tracked them down.
I pushed my energy south until I came to the mountains. Once there, I shot over the range, intent on picking up my brother’s blazing red energy trail of fury.
I didn’t have to look far.
On the cactus-strewn hill beneath me, Tyr, Forse, and Brynn remained locked in battle with the outlaws who’d conspired with Runa. Their auras were so dark I couldn’t get a clear read on their strategy. The only thing I knew for sure was that they fought to kill. Rage practically seethed from their pores, the angry energy tainting the air with an unseemly smell.
All energy had a scent. It explained why easygoing souls like Henrik smelled like sunshine, protective souls like Tyr smelled like redwoods, and peaceful souls like Mia smelled like lavender. And right then, those dark elves filled the plain with the undeniable odor of an evil soul…sulfur.
I locked in on Tyr’s brain and entered without asking permission, violating our self-imposed rule. The minute I dove into his head, I remembered how complicated Tyr’s job was. His brain monitored multiple scenes simultaneously, each scene playing on its own screen like the inside of a mission control room. On the right, Forse wrestled Tosk’s apparent second-in-command—the dark elf wore an insignia on his jacket that resembled Tosk’s. He threw Forse on the ground with the confidence of a seasoned fighter. Forse rolled to the side, tucking his long legs beneath him and jumping back before the second could deliver a blow. When the dark elf crouched to attack, Forse leapt in the air, delivering a front kick to the elf’s jaw that sent him reeling. The second stumbled backward, howling as Forse threw a series of punches that would have broken a mortal’s jaw. His frenzied attack left me confident he had the upper hand, so I switched screens and assessed Brynn’s situation.
Brynn’s opponent was Bagatha—the white-haired female. She gripped a thick blade in her hand, expertly deflecting the parries of Brynn’s rapier with her much shorter weapon. Where Brynn was the embodiment of power, a striking contrast of Asgardian warrior and ballerina-like fluidity, Bagatha battled like a viper. Her short, choppy strikes betrayed her rage, and each time she advanced on Brynn it was clear she struck to kill. If Brynn wasn’t such a seasoned valkyrie, I would have been worried. But I knew
she had this. She always did.
You go, Brynn! I cheered her on.
“Elsa?” Tyr grunted as he swung his broadsword. The weight of the weapon and the shock of finding me in his head must have thrown him off-balance, because his equilibrium shifted and he stumbled to the right. Forse stopped pounding on his opponent long enough to steady Tyr. He pulled his gun, twisted his wrist, and fired at Brynn’s attacker. The force of the capsule launched Bagatha off Brynn, who in turn took off running. As she distanced herself from the impending implosion, Brynn pushed off her toes and flung her body into the air. Tyr held Tosk’s attention with a one-handed parry, giving Brynn the element of surprise. She landed easily on her toes, raising her arms above her head and driving her rapier deep into Tosk’s back. Tosk’s mouth fell open as he looked down, his bony fingers wrapped around the blade sticking through his chest. A tar-like substance oozed from the wound, and in the second it took him to reach behind his back and withdraw the weapon, Bagatha let out a wail. My focus shifted again as the implosive took hold. A pungent odor filled the air and Bagatha’s hands shook as her bones, organs, then flesh were sucked inward. With a sickening pop she disappeared completely, her remains no more than an ashy film settling on black soot.
Forse’s attacker looked up in horror. Forse’s rage was palpable, and I knew him well enough to understand he needed a release. He holstered the gun and reached out so both hands circled the dark elf’s neck. His eyes were dark as he wrenched the elf’s head to one side, breaking the spine and declaring unapologetically, “That’s for taking Elsa.”
If the sight of a dangling dark elf head wasn’t so disgusting, I would have kissed him. Though since I was nothing more than an energy signature in my brother’s head, maybe a kiss wasn’t exactly appropriate.
An anger surge in Tyr’s brain brought my attention back to my host. As Tyr prepared to drive his sword through the still stunned Tosk, the elf pulled Brynn’s rapier from his torso and flung it onto the ground. He twirled in a fast circle and disappeared, leaving behind nothing more than a thick pool of blood.