“Yeah.” The zombie sighed, looking at Marius like he was bad medicine he didn’t want to have to take. “This Norn she was tryin’ to recruit turned out to be Gloaming. Edie’s gone.”
The spark burned hotter. Images of Edie in battle flashed before his eyes. Crouched, holding her friend; arms covered in blood, eyes pleading him for help. What state was she in now? Was she even still alive? The dread that question brought with it surprised even him.
Then the zombie spoke again, sharply, refocusing Marius’s attention. “So? Are you in or what?”
Marius glanced back at the temple, at the golden dome, the etchings on its frieze. He should go back in there and forget he had ever met the hellerune.
“I’m in.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
An ice-cold smack woke Edie from her sleep, and she cried out, eyes snapping open. It took her a moment to register that the coldness was everywhere, clinging to her and seeping through her clothes. Wet.
Though her vision swam, she managed to lift her head. A woman in a long velvet dress stood beyond some iron bars, holding a wooden bucket. Edie might as well have woken up in someone else’s body, because she had no idea where she was or who was standing in front of her.
The cell door swung open, and a pair of men in black robes stepped in. Black veils hanging from silver circlets obscured their faces. They descended on her, one of them holding her firmly by the upper arms while the other unshackled her ankle and produced new manacles from within his robe. He clamped cuffs around her wrists and ankles while his partner pulled her to her feet and secured them to another chain around her waist.
The world spun as she was shuffled out of the cell.
“That’s enough napping for today, lazybones,” said a voice. “You have an appointment to keep.”
Scarlet. Scarlet was the woman standing there, and the one coming out of the cell across from her, shackled similarly, was Satara. She was quiet and shaking. They weren’t supposed to be here….
The memories trickled back in; terror stiffened her joints as she and Satara were pulled down the dark corridor. Unlike before, there was no distant talking or laughing. Not even their footsteps seemed to make noise as they were led through the labyrinthine passages. The silence coming from the veiled figures was reverent, and they seemed to walk in perfect sync.
Finally, they turned a corner, and an eerie blue light filled the hallway. Not thirty feet ahead of them, a spiked gate separated them from a much larger room. Two of the veiled figures opened the gate, letting the rest pass through.
Stepping into the cavernous stone room was like stepping into a completely different world. The energy shifted significantly. All at once, Edie’s body was buzzing with the latent power contained within these four walls. A circular dais rose from the center, etched with thin carvings that shimmered a faint iris color. Blue-white streaks of light rose from the etchings, curling like smoke until they touched similar markings in the ceiling.
Edie felt like she was standing in the presence of someone very important, but no one was here. She glanced up at the ceiling and noticed a hundred little points of light, twinkling and disappearing at intervals like blinking eyes. Wooden fetishes decorated with bone and gems hung from the ceilings, too. Some of them had faces carved in them; some didn’t. Under their gaze, she felt uneasy.
Even through her haze, she didn’t have to be told that this—not the room Indriði had shown her to earlier—was the ritual room.
Smaller, lower daises in the floor surrounded the main one like moons. Edie and Satara were led to two near the far wall and forced to their knees, their shackles secured to thick loops riveted in the stone. Once their prisoners were in place, the veiled figures seemed to melt into the shadows. When Edie squinted at where they had disappeared, she was sure she saw movement. Were there more here?
She tried to calm her breathing, focus on slowing her heartbeat. Maybe there was yet some way they could get out of this, but she and Satara were too far away from each other to hatch a plan in whispers. She turned her head to the side and tried to catch her friend’s eye.
Satara wasn’t looking at her. Her eyes were closed, head bowed, cheeks streaked with tears. Between her knees, however, Edie could see her moving her hands, slowly trying to find a way out of her shackles. The chain connecting them to the stone floor tensed and relaxed as she pulled and worked.
Edie looked down at hers and tugged a little as well, rattling the chains lightly. The loop was secure, every link as strong as could be. She’d break her wrists before she broke these chains.
Just breathe.
But any pretense of calmness, from either woman, was thrown to the wind when the gate opened again and Astrid emerged from the darkness.
“Astrid!” Satara called out, but the valkyrie didn’t seem to hear her.
She was flanked by veiled figures, her entire body bound with thick spectral chains, transparent and glowing faintly blue. They looked so insubstantial, yet the way she walked—hunched, labored—betrayed how heavy they must have been. She was still in her human form, but had been stripped of her armor, wearing only leggings and a tunic. Her face was dirty, her skin and hair matted with both dried and fresh blood. She could barely open her eyes for how bruised and swollen they were.
From behind her, Indriði entered.
Edie wasn’t prepared for the stab of hatred she felt go through her body. When she noticed the keeper paragon around Indriði’s neck, the knife twisted even deeper. If this was Indriði’s ritual room, then whatever she had done upstairs had been completely fabricated. She had never really planned to empower Edie’s fylgja; she hadn’t even tried. The “ritual” had always been fake, a ploy to get the paragon.
That hadn’t been her only ploy. She’d tricked Edie into thinking that Astrid and Cal were working against her. It was because of Indriði that Cal was gone. Looking back on the runecasting, Edie remembered that the rune symbolizing what she would do in the face of her catastrophic future had been blank. Fate will decide. Maybe it had really meant that she didn’t have a future.
The Norn motioned for the veiled figures to bring Astrid to the central dais, and Edie watched as they secured her spectral bindings to the floor, too. The chains lay heavily on the stone. Astrid’s struggling was weak and sluggish.
“Astrid,” Satara said again, then looked at Indriði, glare brimming with tears. “What have you done to her? What do you have to gain from this?”
Indriði put a finger over her own dark-painted lips, which curled into a smirk. “Shhh.”
Another person stepped through the gate, pulling Edie’s gaze from Astrid and the Norn. A very familiar person.
Zaedicus. He wore a luxurious burgundy suit, and Scarlet stood next to him, grinning at the scene before her.
Maybe it was the blow to her head, but pieces seemed to be sliding into place. Zaedicus, the Gloaming, Indriði, Sárr, the party…. The realization of what was truly going on felt like a slap.
“He didn’t just recruit you in the past couple months.” Burning with rage, Edie looked up at Indriði, who had climbed the dais and was standing above her. “He didn’t recruit you at the party. You must have been Gloaming for years. Or at least Zaedicus’s friend.”
Across the room, Scarlet loosed a laugh.
The Norn sneered down at Edie. “Figured something out?”
“We thought we were safe because he had no way to know we were looking for you,” she continued despite their teasing. “Even if he had, he couldn’t have known for absolute certain that we would come to his party. Unless he knew someone who could see the future. You.”
The room was silent except for the ambient hum of the magical energy.
Edie panted. “He needed us all in one place, so he asked you for help. You were already watching me. That figurine I found in Astrid’s shop, the one without a face … the room I saw while we were scrying. It was all you, already close to us, looking in on me or Astrid or whoever.”
“Maybe— maybe you had a vision that we would find you,” Satara said, voice cracking. “Maybe you saw a dozen possible futures where we always sought you out.”
“And in one of them, we were all together, at one of his parties. So you told him, and you both made sure that would happen,” Edie finished, tone betraying her rage. She shook. “‘The future isn’t so cut-and-dry, babe.’ Did you just count on probability, or did you fuck with Fate to make sure we’d come?”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Indriði calmly crossed one arm over her chest, resting her other elbow in her hand. She brushed a streak of white hair back into place. “We all know how it ended up.”
Satara raised her voice, indignant. “You’re not supposed to take sides or manipulate time to your own ends. You’re not created to. Norns are supposed to weave Fate, not carry it out!”
Indriði’s jaw clenched, her pale eyes fixing the shieldmaiden. “Screw what I was created to do. I’m taking justice into my own hands.”
“You lied to me,” Edie ground out.
The Norn shrugged. “Oh well.”
“You made me believe you were my friend, that you were helping me, that you were the only one I could trust. That runecasting … you made me believe that it was Astrid and Cal who wanted to hurt me, but it was you.”
“You’re too easy, hon.” Indriði sighed. “Show you a little bit of affection and you’re hooked.”
Zaedicus chuckled, and when he did, the Norn seemed to remember he was there. She turned and walked past Astrid, stepping down from the dais to take something from him. When she ascended again, she carried a dark iron dagger in one hand.
Edie’s heart pounded. Beside her, Satara mumbled a prayer under her breath.
Indriði circled Astrid slowly, apparently not impressed that the valkyrie had stopped struggling a while ago. “Come on now, really? Already no fight left in you?”
She traced glowing white fingers along the kneeling woman’s shoulder, but her fingers turned to talons soon enough, digging into Astrid’s flesh. She drew her arm back and thrust the dagger into Astrid’s shoulder blade.
Astrid’s form sparked with white light for a split second. She started awake and threw her head back, screaming in agony. The sound reverberated off the stone walls and shook Edie’s bones. Satara shouted wordlessly, straining against her bindings.
Indriði snorted and drew the dagger back out with a faint squelching noise. Runes that Edie hadn’t noticed before blazed purple-white on the blade.
“To be fair, Edie, it wasn’t all lies. The Reach still isn’t worth trusting. The only person left in it is a traitor.” Her tone was casual as she circled Astrid once more, looking for another place to bury the dagger. “Justice doesn’t always come to the people who deserve it, you know? Sometimes you have to make your own.”
Without warning, she jerked to the side and sliced through Astrid’s tunic and arm. Blood burst, coating Astrid’s side and flowing down heavily. Edie knew it wouldn’t kill her, but the valkyrie’s moan of anguish turned her stomach.
There was silence for a while as Astrid panted. Then, for the first time since she’d come into the room, she spoke. “This isn’t … justice. I committed … no crime.”
“Bullshit.” Indriði slashed again, and Astrid writhed, growling.
“All humans die … soldiers more often than others. Kolya was … already rewarded. You should be honored … that he went to Valhalla.”
With faux thoughtfulness, the Norn withdrew the blade and wicked the blood off between her forefinger and thumb. “That’s true. All things do die.” She inspected the glowing runes. “I wonder where valkyir go, or if there’s nothing at all.”
Shouts erupted from Satara and Edie, their words jumbled as they ran over each other’s, incoherent in their panic. Their shouts were joined by laughter from the two wights at the other end of the room.
It wasn’t until Edie shouted, enunciating each word, “All of this because she killed your boyfriend?” that the room fell silent.
Indriði looked genuinely shocked. She glanced from Edie to Astrid a few times, then squinted at the valkyrie. “Is that what you told her? You told her Kolya was my boyfriend?”
“I said you were fixated on him,” Astrid mumbled.
The Norn reeled for a moment before erupting. “You bitch!” She grabbed a fistful of Astrid’s hair and yanked her head back, literally incandescent with rage; her skin, her eyes, her hair glowed. Edie couldn’t tell if it was the odd lighting in the room or some sort of power. “Fixated on him, was I? Is that what I was?”
Astrid only winced in reply.
“I don’t understand,” Satara cried out. “If he wasn’t your lover, who was he?”
Indriði released Astrid’s hair and pushed her head forward, forcing her to bow her head. With ragged breath, she took a step back, examining the valkyrie before turning toward the two other captives.
“He was my son,” she said, voice thick. She looked at Astrid again. “Our son.”
Of course. In a horrible sort of way, it all made sense now. The way Astrid had talked about Indriði, so reverently; the way she hung on every bit of news of her. She had been in love with her, perhaps still was, and she had been purposefully vague when telling them about why she and Indriði had fallen out.
“But….” Edie’s voice shook. Nothing was making sense anymore. “Valkyir are dead. They can’t make babies. How could Kolya be your son?”
Indriði’s gaze was flint. “He was abandoned. We raised him in our home, loved him, cared for him just like any mothers. And she”—she pointed the dagger at Astrid—“let him die.”
“You’re lying,” Satara said weakly. “Astrid wouldn’t keep that from us.”
Astrid raised her head, gaze teary. “She’s telling the truth,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The shieldmaiden looked at her, grimacing, chest jerking as her breath hitched. Her glittery eyes were full of sorrow.
Indriði leaned in close to speak in Astrid’s ear. “You are a miserable mother…”
Astrid squeezed her eyes shut. Fat tears slid down her cheeks.
“…and this world will be better off without you.”
The valkyrie turned her head to look at Indriði. “There’s no need of this. You already had your revenge when you took Daschla from me.”
“Ah, yes.” The Norn looked at Satara. “I’d say I’m sure you’ve heard all about the shieldmaiden before you, but now we know that Astrid loves to keep things to herself.” She looked back at the valkyrie. “I didn’t take Daschla anywhere. I told her the truth—more than you ever did for her—and she decided to leave.”
“She’s doing the Gloaming’s work now,” Zaedicus added, crossing his arms.
“Hell”—Indriði laughed—“even the Aurora is doing the Gloaming’s work now.”
That statement chilled Edie to the bone. She knew enough about the Aurora to know that any one of them would die before they worked with the Gloaming. Had someone been tricked like Edie had, or was there some sort of conspiracy?
Indriði shook her head and motioned for two veiled figures to join her. They each grabbed one of Astrid’s biceps and hoisted her to her feet.
“I’ve never felt better about what I’m going to do to you,” the Norn whispered, holding the knife above her head. She slashed downward, creating a long gash in Astrid’s stomach.
The valkyrie cried out weakly. Now that she wasn’t curled up and the light was hitting her just-so, Edie could see that the blood she’d assumed to be deep red was actually a dark amethyst color. It flowed from Astrid more like water, and was practically coating her after all this torture.
Zaedicus eyed her. “If you unveil, we won’t be forced to keep hurting you.”
Astrid glanced at the paragon around Indriði’s neck and gritted her teeth. “You can do what you want to my body. I will never obey you.”
The valkyrie steeled herself in time for the Norn’s next blow. She t
hrust the knife into her stomach and twisted, but Astrid barely winced. Edie watched with bated breath as Indriði searched her former lover’s face, then pulled away. Was it over?
“She’s telling the truth,” the Norn finally said, dislodging the blade.
For a moment, it looked like she might give up. Then, she turned back and stabbed the dagger through Astrid’s chest rather unceremoniously. Edie could hear the resistance of Astrid’s flesh; a soft, wet pop as the dagger broke through layers of skin and muscle. Blood surged around the hilt and covered her chest. Though Edie knew the blow wouldn’t be fatal, she gasped and had to swallow the bile that raced up her throat.
Beside her, Satara begged, “Stop. Whatever she did, we can find some other way to repay you. Stop hurting her!”
Indriði took a step back, looking Astrid over. “You know what, Astrid? I believe you. Torturing you is gratifying and all, but it’s not going to get me what I want, is it? You can take the pain.” Those dark lips curled into a smirk, and she looked at Satara. “But, ah … I wonder if your shieldmaiden can take a beating, too.”
“No!” The cry ripped from Astrid’s throat with such force that it seemed to shake the room. A shard of pain stabbed through Edie’s brain, and her ears began to ring again.
“Are you willing to lose another child just to keep running from your punishment, Astrid?”
“Keep your hands off of her!”
There was a ghostly shriek—a long, disturbing howl, echoing as though someone down the hall was being tortured, too. Edie knew what was happening before she saw the light burst forth from Astrid; it filled the room, and she had to close her eyes against the radiance of it, her injured head pounding.
After a few moments, she cracked an eye open to see exactly what she had feared. They had coaxed Astrid to unveil. The valkyrie stood on her own, the force of her change having pushed the Norn’s lackeys back—a towering figure of white-blue light with flowing platinum braids, gleaming armor, and blade-like black wings. The spectral chains held fast, but she beat her wings, straining against them. The movement kicked up a wind that whipped the clothes and hair of those present and sent pebbles flying.
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