by Alane Adams
There were mutters of agreement. None wanted to die, no less in this dark hole.
Teren raised his sword, and they raised theirs with his. “To Orkney,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
They joined in, rattling their swords and shouting loud enough to shake the stone.
Howie started to draw the rusted sword that hung at his side, but Teren stayed his hand. “No, lad. You don’t leave this cave. Hide until it’s over. That’s an order, squire,” he added as Howie opened his mouth to argue.
As one, the soldiers emptied out and charged at the creatures, leaving Howie behind. He hovered in the entrance, wanting to follow but too scared to move. He grimaced as Teren swung his sword, taking off the head of the first ape-man. Another loped toward the captain, and he pivoted around, stabbing it in the chest. Two more came at him. Howie watched in awe as Teren relentlessly parried and thrusted, fighting his way forward.
On Teren’s right, Heppner took out a pair before throwing his crossbow aside and running at them with his sword. Two of Teren’s men went down. These ape-men had a vicious overpowering strength.
As another creature came at Teren, he ran it through with so much force his blade embedded deep in a tree. As Teren yanked on it, another of the creatures snarled and loped toward him. Teren was defenseless. Heppner was busy fighting off his own attackers.
Howie swallowed the lump in his throat. He thought about Ronnie Polk and being pushed around and forgotten his whole life. Teren had trusted him, had given him a shot. Before he knew what he was doing, Howie charged out of the cave and ran toward Teren, screaming at the top of his lungs like a raving lunatic. Odin’s second-hand sword clanked against his leg. Might as well give the old thing a workout before he was dead.
Howie gripped it, then started to pull it out. But a strange thing happened. As he withdrew it, gold sparks shot out in every direction. Blazing light flickered from a razor-edged blade. The plain hasp was now crusted with jewels. In a blink, it changed from a rusted heap to a glowing golden sword, whole and without decay or rust. It shone in the fading afternoon light.
A single act of bravery can turn rust to gold.
Fetch’s annoying riddle made sense now. But Howie didn’t have time to admire it. He kept running, holding the sword over his head, and made a beeline for the monster. The creature flinched at the golden rays shining from Howie’s sword. Howie kept yelling, ready to take its head off, but just as he brought the sword down, a flash of blue light arrowed through the trees, incinerating the creature to trickling ash. Howie slashed air.
Staggering, he held up his hand to block the blinding light. What the heck had that been? The blue light moved off, flashing and sending screams into the air.
“Come on, lads, we have them!” Teren called, digging his sword out and rallying his men. He flashed a grin at Howie. “I thought I told you to stay in the cave.”
“I was never good at taking orders,” Howie said, grinning back.
As they pushed forward, Teren and Heppner took out two more of the apes. One dropped out of a tree, nearly squashing Heppner. Without hesitation, Howie ran it through with his golden sword, watching it grunt in surprise before toppling over. The redhead flashed him an appreciative grin.
Quickly, the forest emptied, leaving only grotesque bodies littering the ground. Blue fire continued to flash through the trees. Teren headed for the light with Howie and Heppner on his heels.
A woman stood in the clearing cloaked in black. Before her, a witch hung in the air. A flare of blue lightning held her there. The cloaked figure murmured words. The witch began to spin and whirl around, sending a strong wind. Then she exploded into a spray of green light. The remaining beastly creatures ran off, screeching into the night.
Teren held his sword, ready to slay this latest adversary. Howie did the same, clutching his awesome golden sword. Heppner stood at his other side.
“Nice sword,” Heppner muttered.
Howie just grinned. Odin had climbed to a whole new level of awesomeness in Howie’s mind.
“Show yourself,” Teren ordered.
The woman turned, her face cloaked in darkness. “You would kill the one who just saved your life?”
Howie froze. He recognized that voice. Teren must have, too, because his face went white with shock. “My lady,” he whispered. “Can it really be you?”
She threw back her hood, revealing herself. “Yes, Captain Teren, it really is.”
Teren dropped to one knee. “My Lady Abigail. You have returned to Orkney.”
Sam’s mom smiled at Teren. “Oh, I’m back, all right. Now where is my son?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Keely followed Rifkin because she had no choice. She wouldn’t survive the glacial temperatures of Rakim on her own. How did the frost giants live here? They had to be like polar bears. Snow seemed to fall constantly, leaving her numb and chilled to the bone. Her cloak had a fur-trimmed hood, but it felt like the tip of her nose had frozen off. Her fingers were permanent chunks of ice. She stuffed them in her armpits to keep warm, praying she didn’t get frostbite. Her once-new boots had split along the seams, letting snow in. And forget about her toes—she had lost feeling in them days ago.
Rifkin plowed through the snow just ahead of her.
“How much fa-fa-farther?” she asked through chattering teeth. She was plagued with worry about Mavery and Galatin, fearing for their safety and hoping they didn’t think she had abandoned them.
“Not long now,” he said.
Annoyance flashed through her. “You said that before. I’m hungry.” She hadn’t eaten a full meal in days; her pants hung off her hips. Hunting had been impossible with the loss of her bow.
He stopped abruptly and turned to grab her by the collar of her jacket. “You think you’re the only one that’s cold and hungry?” His eyes were bloodshot and sunken. His beard hung in frozen clumps around his jowls. “Even if we caught something, we couldn’t cook it, or the smell of a fire would bring the Vanir on our heads. Or is that what you want? To be captured by them so you can join your friends in their prison awaiting a sentence of death?”
Keely wasn’t afraid of Rifkin, but she didn’t want to antagonize him. He was still her only hope. “No, I want you to take me to the Cave of Shadows.”
“Then stop your bellyaching. We’re wasting time.”
“How do you even know where we’re going? Every tree looks the same.”
“Find the star, we’ll find the Cave of Shadows.”
Keely’s pulse gave a leap. This was the secret Rifkin had been keeping about the location. “What star?”
“You’ll see.”
After that, Keely didn’t complain and didn’t ask how much longer. The trail broadened at the bottom of the valley, and walking became easier. Keely allowed herself a glimmer of hope that they might actually make it. So far they had managed to steer clear of any frost giants by staying off the main trails and sticking to the trees.
Keely followed in the steps Rifkin made in the snow and put all her energy into forcing herself to keep moving. She was dreaming about Chuggies and Howie’s sizzling tower of fries when she ran into Rifkin’s back. He had stopped in the middle of the trail.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, grateful for the rest.
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right as rain. There it is. See, I told you ol’ Rifkin knew the way.”
Keely followed his finger, and a gasp escaped her. Rifkin hadn’t been lying. There was a star shining low in the sky. It twinkled like a living thing, visible even in the grayish light of day.
“Is that—”
But Rifkin cut her off. “Shh,” he said, listening. Then abruptly he shoved her headfirst into a deep snow bank and dove behind the tree. Keely was buried under the snow when it happened. Hooves thundered down the trail. Something sharp clipped her on the side of her knee, and she cried out in pain.
A horse whinnied in surprise, and the hooves stopped their thundering. A deep
voice rumbled, calling out. Keely’s knee was bleeding where the edge of the hoof had connected with it. She could no more run away than she could make herself invisible.
A hand reached into the snow and grabbed her shirt, yanking her out. She came face-to-face with a frost giant.
He was as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He towered over her, standing well above seven feet tall. His shoulders were as broad as a barn. Shaggy hair was tied back with a leather band. A fur pelt was belted at his waist, leaving his arms bare. In his hands he clutched a deadly looking club.
They stared at each other for a moment, and then he let out a piercing whistle. It was answered from another clearing not far away.
The Vanir said something to her she couldn’t understand. His words were harsh. He shook her and repeated the question. Then he lifted her like she was a ragdoll, hanging her several feet off the ground. A shadow moved behind him, and then his hand went slack. She slipped through his fingers, sprawling in the snow. Blood sprayed the white surface as the giant keeled over, Rifkin’s knife sticking out of his back.
Rifkin held out his hand to Keely. She took it without a word.
She put her arm over his shoulder, and they limped over to the Vanir’s horse. It was even bigger than a Clydesdale, with a bushy hair around its hooves and neck. It shied away from them, but Rifkin whistled softly, stroking it on the nose. It snorted but let Rifkin hold its mane. There was no saddle. Rifkin lifted Keely up and sat her on top.
He led the horse over to a rock and climbed up behind her, giving the animal a hard kick. It took off like a rocket, streaking down the trail. Keely grabbed the mane with two fists. Rifkin wrapped his arms around her and gripped the mane as well, tugging the horse to the right, away from the main trail.
They broke into a wide snowfield that fell away from the forest. Rifkin kicked the horse, urging it through the deep snow. They didn’t have much time. Even now the sound of whoops in the forest alerted them that the Vanir were after them.
Ahead, the outline of a knoll came into view. Not a hill, but a rounded mound of snow. It was directly under the shining star, which was now much higher than it had appeared from a distance. Keely could just make out an opening of sorts down an incline.
Three arrows hit the snow in front of them. The Vanirian’s horse snorted, rearing up. Keely couldn’t hold on. She tumbled off, taking Rifkin with her into the field. Behind them came a short blast of a horn. They had been spotted.
Rifkin grabbed her, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran for the entrance.
He broke through snow with each step, but he grimly muscled his way on. Then he stumbled and fell, dropping her. She brushed the slush out of her eyes and let out a scream. Rifkin had an arrow sticking out of his back.
“Come on,” he said, reaching around to yank the shaft out. “Keep moving.” He struggled to his feet, swaying, then grabbed her arm in a viselike grip and dragged her forward.
There were a half dozen Vanir chasing them on horseback. They let loose more arrows. The shafts plonked into the snow. Keely let out a yelp as one grazed her.
Still, they limped on. They were so close. Below them, the opening was clearly visible now, a slash in the side of the mound at the bottom of this hill. It glowed faintly blue with a hint of the ice that lined the interior walls.
Another arrow whizzed by Keely’s ear. Rifkin gave her a push, and she slid down the remaining slope, hitting the bottom of the hill just outside the opening. Rifkin came crashing down next to her, knocking her forward into the cave.
She passed through a film of icy mist. Keely could feel the difference in air pressure. It was quiet in here. The sounds of the Vanir pursuit were muffled and distant. She waited for Rifkin, but he didn’t join her. Turning around, she saw him just outside the entrance. He was screaming at her. His face contorted in angry motions. He pounded against some invisible barrier with his fist.
Keely stepped forward, to see what was the matter. Before she could reach him, Rifkin twisted and turned, convulsing.
The Vanir had arrived at the top of the hill and filled him with arrows. He fell to his knees and then dropped forward facedown.
Keely reeled in horror, pedaling backward three steps. The Vanir streamed down the hill. They kicked Rifkin’s body, rolling him over, then stared directly at her. Keely stood five feet away from them, but it was as if they couldn’t see her. Somehow she had broken through the veil that sealed the entrance. So Rifkin had been right. She was part Eifalian now, thanks to Mimir’s tricks.
The men dragged Rifkin’s body up the hill. Keely stared at the red stain in the snow and sank shakily to her knees. Even though Rifkin had been a traitor, in the end, he had protected her in his own way. First by telling Catriona she was dead, and second, getting her here safely. So what if it had been to line his pockets with treasure. In her gut she wanted to believe ol’ Rifkin would never have actually harmed her.
The cave radiated a chill that pierced her skin. The walls were blue frost, glimmering with a faint reflection of light. Icicles hung down like warning spikes, threatening to impale her head. Jagged outcrops of rock encased in ice loomed in every direction.
She forced herself to stand and put one leg in front of the other, favoring her sore knee. A shadow appeared on the wall. Her shadow. She held up a hand and waved. The shadow waved back, as if it had a life separate from her.
Keely remembered: she was in the Cave of Shadows. It must have taken control of her own silhouette. She limped forward, and the shadow followed, matching her movements. The ground was hard and rocky. Ice covered most of it, making it treacherously slippery. She fell on her rump hard enough to knock her teeth back.
Keely gritted her jaw and stood up. She was getting angry now. This was too hard. For anyone. What was she fighting for? A magical realm she barely knew? She was tired, cold, hungry, aching, and she would have sold her soul to sit in a steaming bubble bath for two days straight.
“Enough!” she shouted. She let out a scream, sharing with the universe how frustrated and scared she was. It bounced back at her, echoing in the confines of the cavern. Her shadow covered its ears with its hands.
But her scream sounded puny next to the screeching roar that followed. The bellowing noise sent thundering shock waves through the tunnel, sending icicles crashing to the ground, splintering shards of ice everywhere.
Cold sweat trickled down her spine. Her shadow frantically pointed in the opposite direction, like it wanted to flee. She flashed on her vision of the eight-legged beast that guarded the place. Fleeing sounded pretty good. Run screaming from this cave and fling herself on the mercy of the frost giants.
Then she remembered: the Vanir had no mercy.
She sighed. Enough pity-party, she chided herself. She was here fighting not just for her friends, but also for what was right. Catriona was evil. She couldn’t be allowed to win. Not as long as Keely still had life in her.
She looked around. There was nowhere to hide, and no one to call on for help. She would just have to face whatever happened and hope Odin had picked the right girl for the job.
Keely doggedly dragged herself forward, dreading what she would find. Her shadow was her only company, limping along beside her. She found it oddly comforting. The trail became steeper, and the icy blue walls pressed in closer. She tried to stay on her feet, but the ground was too slick. She ended up falling, rolling, and tumbling down a steep incline, bruising every inch of herself.
She stood shakily, hoping she hadn’t broken anything. Her shadow looked woozy. With no wall to support it, it stretched out from her own feet across the floor, swaying side to side. She had rolled into a big blue cavern. In the center, a large spear of ice hung down from the rocky ceiling. It was a glittering icicle, reflecting the light of a million captured stars.
“Whoa,” she said out loud. It was bright in here. Light shone on a smooth pond. Excitedly, she recognized it from her vision. The Moon Pearl had shimmered at the bottom of the clear wate
r.
She didn’t see the pearl, but she did see the moon. Or rather, its reflection. It shone brightly on the surface, as if Keely were out under a clear night sky instead of deep underground. She could pick out the detail of the craters and the shadows of the moon’s face in the shimmering image.
Caught up in the beauty, Keely forgot about the horrible screech—until a large furry beast entered the cave from a round tunnel and shuffled toward her. It was the creature from her vision, a beast with eight legs. The legs on each side stepped in unison, moving the monster forward like a freight train. Its body was the size of a small house and was covered in thick white fur. Its head had a long snout that ended in a row of white teeth it bared at her. Strands of drool dripped from its jaw, as if it was dreaming about making her its next meal. Its ears were pricked up to a point, and its eyes were luminous and wide, staring at her with distrust.
Keely started to back away, but her feet wouldn’t move. She looked down and saw that while she had been distracted, a solid rim of ice had formed around her boots. The ice swiftly climbed to her knees. It was rising higher with every second, inching its way up her body. At this rate, she was going to be encased in ice in moments. Her shadow tried to help, lifting from the ground to tug on her hand. There was pressure and coldness, but it couldn’t budge Keely.
The beast drew close and gripped her shadow by the head with its teeth and tossed it high, flinging it into the water of the pond. It hit with a splash, black arms floundering, and then sank.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Keely’s shoulders slumped. She had made it so far. Was this the end, then? Would Sam be lost to Catriona forever? Evil magic would erupt into her world, creating pandemonium. Everything she had seen in Mimir’s vision would happen. All because she had failed.
“Why?” she cried as the beast inched closer to her. “Why are you doing this?”