Cursed Prince (Night Elves Trilogy Book 1)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Let go of the rope,” he said.

  Then I saw it. A huge form rising in the darkness behind us, nearly as thick and as large as Yggdrasill’s trunk. Pale as bone and covered in opalescent scales, it was unquestionably the coil of a massive serpent.

  “Ah,” I said, letting go of the rope. “Nidhogg is here.”

  Chapter 51

  Marroc

  Nidhogg’s huge shadow passed over the boat, and I turned to face her. The air vibrated as the wyrm spoke in a deep voice. “Who has sailed the Naglfar into my domain?”

  “I’m known as Marroc,” I said.

  The beast was impossibly massive, her head longer and wider than our boat. Behind it, a giant body looped and twisted. The coils were so large that, had I not known they were part of the wyrm, I would have mistaken them for islands.

  The serpent’s head lowered until it was level with the longboat. “Marroc?” she said. She inhaled, and as she did, her breath sucked the Naglfar closer. “But I don’t sense a soul in you.”

  Slowly, her head turned so that a massive yellow eye fixed on me. A long pink tongue, thick as a tree trunk, flicked out. “But I smell warm flesh. You have brought me a living elf?”

  “I have,” I said slowly, my entire body tensing.

  “I haven’t tasted fresh blood since Loki and Thor last sailed these waters. I accept your offering.”

  “The elf is not an offering.”

  Nidhogg’s tongue flicked out again, and a deep hiss shook the boat. “She is not? Why bring her to me, then?”

  “She’s a warrior, and she is helping me on my journey.”

  Another hiss, followed by another. The Naglfar tossed and bounced. It took me a moment to realize the wyrm was laughing.

  “A lich has help from another? A compatriot? No, no. Do not think I am so gullible. A lich serves only himself. A lich does nothing without a purpose for himself. If you told me she was your mistress, I might believe you.”

  The wyrm drew in another great breath. Her giant yellow eye remained fixed on me, glistening with red seawater.

  “Oh, I see.” She breathed out in a low hiss. “I see now. That’s a complicated position you’ve found yourself in, isn’t it, lich?”

  “What is she talking about?” whispered Ali.

  I shrugged, pretending that I didn’t know, though I was pretty sure the beast had sensed the pair of souls within Ali.

  My voice boomed over the sea as I said, “I am here for the wand.”

  The serpent paused. Her yellow eye studied me. “The wand?”

  “Loki’s wand, the Levateinn. You have it.”

  Slowly, the giant wyrm’s head moved. “I have no such thing. I defeated Loki nearly a thousand years ago. The god is long dead.”

  “That’s not possible,” I said. The spell I’d conducted had been very clear. The wyrm had the wand. There was nowhere else it could be.

  Nidhogg gave a great, thundering laugh. “I remember it like it was yesterday. Loki, the fool, tried to fight me. He lost, of course. Not even a god is a match for me. I ate him in one bite.” Her head moved closer, her shadow once again falling over the bow of the ship. “Give me the elf now. My stomach churns with hunger. I haven’t had fresh meat in a thousand years.”

  Doubt flickered within me. Had my spell, the one through which I’d divined this was where the wand was, been wrong?

  I’d never been wrong before.

  “No,” I said. “My magic was—”

  But before I could finish speaking, the beast struck. The hull shattered beneath my feet as the serpent’s jaw tore through it. Pain erupted in my stomach, and I looked down to see a venomous fang protruding from the center of my gut.

  Chapter 52

  Ali

  For an impossibly long moment, which couldn’t have been much more than a second or two, Marroc struggled in Nidhogg’s maw. Then the wyrm’s jaws slammed shut, and Marroc and half of the Naglfar disappeared into its mouth.

  I screamed as a wave slammed into me. I slid toward the sanguineous sea, fingers scraping along the hull. For a moment my mind was blank with panic before I remembered Skalei.

  With a shout, I called the blade to me, then drove it into the side of the boat. The dagger punched through the hull and, like a mountain climber’s axe, arrested my descent.

  I looked around. The front half of the boat was missing, and the stern, where I hung, was slowly lifting into the air. Beneath my feet, red seawater bubbled and churned as the ship sank.

  The wyrm’s voice boomed from somewhere in the darkness. “Where are you, elf?”

  I clung to the hilt of the dagger, hardly daring to breathe. I peered over my shoulder. I couldn’t see Nidhogg’s head anymore, but the sea writhed with her massive coils.

  I tried to think of a plan. A way out. But all I could think of was Marroc. I’d just seen him impaled and devoured, and I wanted to cry. Surely that would kill even a lich.

  My heart ached, and the boat shuddered, sinking fast. There wasn’t time to think about Marroc. I needed a plan. A life raft.

  The boat lurched. The sea of blood rushed up until it was only inches from my feet.

  “There you are,” said Nidhogg.

  The wyrm’s massive head hovered over me. Her tongue flicked out, nearly a meter in diameter and split at the end like a snake’s.

  “What do you want?” I cried out.

  “You. Two souls for the price of one.” The serpent’s tongue brushed my cheek, slimy and cold.

  I yanked myself up, lunging for the gunnel. My fingers had just brushed the edge when the wyrm’s tongue wrapped round my stomach.

  She jerked her head and tossed me high into the air. I spun, twisting awkwardly. I flung out my arms, trying to steady myself. Below me, Nidhogg tore through the remains of the long boat. Pale skin, eyes, and fangs long as lances. She lunged for me.

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The wyrm’s mouth gaped so wide that I could practically see down its throat. Her fangs flashed, coated with green venom. This was it. The end of my life. Swallowed by a giant snake.

  And then I knew where to find Levateinn. At the moment of my demise, I knew I’d discovered the final resting place of Loki’s wand.

  There was only one thing to do. The wyrm’s jaws snapped shut, closing around me, ready to cut me in two, but I was gone—vanished in a flash of purple light.

  Chapter 53

  Marroc

  A burning pain overpowered my senses. It grew hotter and hotter, like a fire poker piercing my stomach. I could feel my skin burning, my viscera scorching. It felt like my curse had been condensed and focused on just one part of my body.

  I would get out of this. Wyrd had decreed it. My magic had never been wrong before.

  Blocking out the pain, I reached down, fingers gliding over the wound in my stomach—a six-inch hole punched clean through me. Pain lanced up from my fingertips as venom burned them.

  It all came flooding back in an instant: the ship, the wyrm, the fang that had impaled me, the final moments as Nidhogg’s jaws snapped shut. The end of everything. My magic had failed, and I’d failed Ali.

  Guilt spread through me, burning hotter than the poison.

  I opened my eyes. I saw only darkness. I closed them and reopened them. Still darkness.

  I tried to inscribe sowilo, to shine light in this infernal darkness, but nothing happened. I tried again—still nothing. My body didn’t work. I had no magic.

  Fear rose within me. That could only mean one thing. I was dead. Actually dead. Sent back to Helheim for the shades to collect their debt. Beneath me, a thick mud oozed. The shades would be on me in minutes.

  I’d promised them I’d raise their queen. Clearly, I’d failed, and they would want vengeance. My chance at regaining my soul was gone. Lost. The shades would not be kind.

  I considered standing, trying to run, but there was no point. Even if I made it as far as the iron wall, I’d already confirmed that it was impenetrable. This was one prison
from which I couldn’t escape. Besides, I deserved what I had coming.

  I lay in the mud, my eyes closed, and silence pressed down on me.

  Ali…

  Her face came to me behind my shuttered lids. I’d failed to protect her. Left her to die in the sea of the dead. Nidhogg would tear her to shreds. This was the worst possible outcome—and it was all because of my unwavering belief in my own magic.

  Why had I been so certain of myself that I’d led her into the very depths of Helheim?

  She was my perfect counterpart. I wished to be near her now. To hear her voice. To see her. To smell her. I should have left her in Boston, safe in my home, and visited the Nastrand on my own—even if my magic had told me otherwise.

  So why was it that I could still feel the wand, its magic like a shimmering balm over my skin?

  A faint voice came from the darkness. “Marroc?”

  The shades were coming. I was ready for their punishment. I certainly deserved it.

  “Here,” I gasped.

  “Marroc?” The voice again, louder. I lifted my head from the mud, and the ooze trickled from my ears. Something wasn’t right. This shade’s voice was clear.

  “Marroc?”

  My entire body stiffened. Pain erupted from the wound in my gut. But now, I recognized the voice.

  “Ali? What are you doing here?”

  Chapter 54

  Ali

  I reappeared in darkness on my hands and knees and felt for my vergr crystal. My fingers wrapped around the stone, and I slid it into my pocket.

  I stood slowly as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. I was in a narrow corridor. It was hot in here, and wet. It smelled terrible. There was no question where I was now. Nidhogg’s stomach. Exactly where I’d intended to go.

  “Marroc?”

  My voice echoed faintly in the cavern, but there was no answer. I peered around, looking for his massive form, but all I could see was glistening stomach lining.

  “Marroc?” I called again.

  Then I saw him. Lying on his back, his eyes staring blindly. It took a second for me to realize why. He couldn’t see in the darkness. He just didn't have Night Elf vision like I did.

  “Marroc,” I said, hurrying to his side. “Are you okay?”

  “Ali?” He reached out for me. “I’m sorry. I failed.”

  “You need to get up.”

  “No. When the shades come, they’ll destroy me. They’ll probably condemn you, too. They know that you’re my—”

  “Marroc,” I said, “how do we find the wand?”

  He stared at me, eyes wide and unseeing. “What do you mean? We lost. Nidhogg won. The wand wasn’t with her.”

  “No, I’m certain it’s close by. And you’re not dead. We’re inside Nidhogg. And we need to get out of here, fast.”

  “That explains why I can still feel the wand’s presence.” Marroc paused. “We’re inside Nidhogg?”

  “Don’t say I never took you anywhere nice. And do you remember when she said she’d eaten Thor and Loki? They must have brought the wand in with them. That would explain why your spell said the wand was with Nidhogg.”

  Finally, I saw hope return to Marroc’s face. “Brilliant. So my spell was correct.”

  “Let’s cut down on the gloating and get moving. I can show you where to walk.”

  Marroc slowly got to his feet. The way he stood, I could see he was in serious pain.

  “Will that get better?” I asked, pointing to the wound in his abdomen.

  “It’s taking longer than usual. Maybe it’s because the fang severed my spine…” He paused, obviously frustrated. “You go on ahead; I’ll walk more slowly behind you.”

  I shook my head, forgetting that Marroc couldn’t see me. “I’m not leaving you here. We can both go slowly.”

  He walked behind me until the stomach walls expanded into a large chamber, then closed off. I stopped, sucking in a short breath.

  “What is it?” Marroc asked, sensing my hesitation.

  “The stomach stops here.” My breath started coming fast, and panic was about to overtake my mind. I’d grown up in dark spaces, but they had been nothing like this. We were inside the gut of a monster, and I felt like the walls were closing in around me.

  Marroc frowned. “I can sense it here, but not its exact location. If I travel to the astral plane, I should be able to sense the wand and home in on it better.”

  I could hardly parse his words; the sense of claustrophobia was suffocating. Was there enough air in here? If we couldn’t find the wand, how long would it take to suffocate?

  He closed his eyes. For a long moment, he stood perfectly still. And as he did, it was like all the darkness and filth around us faded away, and there was only Marroc. Slowly, I started to feel like I could breathe again, like there was air fresh around me.

  With his arms out to the side, his body glowed with a pale light, his hair lifting and whirling around his head. Blue light carved the masculine planes of his face and streamed from his body. The light shifted in hues, like sun rays through a stained-glass window. I’d seen so little beauty in the past few days that I didn’t want it to stop.

  I looked down at myself, watching as the light streamed over me and cleaned the filth from my body, from my clothes.

  The stomach walls around us transformed, now shimmering with white light. A faint music filled the air—like I’d never heard before, so beautiful it could have been written by the greatest of the gods’ bards, Bragi, when he’d been alive.

  The gods were dead, but right now, Marroc seemed a lot like one. I wanted to know what wonders he was seeing in the astral realm. I envied his ability to transport himself to faraway places.

  Then his eyes flashed open, and the light faded. The music fell to silence. I regretted the loss of that beauty for a moment. The claustrophobia started to return, my breath quickening, heart rate speeding up.

  “It’s close by.” He pointed at one of the walls.

  “Skalei.” My dagger appeared, and I turned, slashing downward and carving through Nidhogg’s flesh.

  Instantly, the wyrm’s stomach muscles contracted, and we were thrown upside down. Somehow, I managed to hang on to Marroc’s waist. But even as Nidhogg thrashed with pain, I didn’t hesitate. With one hand, I gripped the edge of the wound, and with the other, I hacked at it. With each slice, I carved deeper and deeper into the stomach lining.

  I felt its power, even from here. I reached inside, my fingers tightened around a smooth surface, and I pulled out a gleaming silver wand. My breath caught in my throat at its beauty, so stunning that I was sure it was never meant for mortal eyes. I didn’t want to hand it over to him, but this was why we’d come here.

  I held it out to him. “I hope I can trust you with this kind of power.”

  Chapter 55

  Marroc

  The power of Levateinn flowed into me. I closed my eyes as a thick metallic taste filled my mouth. It was a magic like I’d never experienced, smooth and silent. Quicksilver, I realized, was its basis. This, I knew intuitively, was the wand’s innate power of transformation.

  The wand’s energy continued to thrum in my fingers. My senses expanded. I could hear the movement of Nidhogg’s blood, feel the flex of her massive muscles as she swam. I could even sense the movements of jellyfish floating in the sea.

  My perception narrowed. From here, I could feel Ali’s beating heart. I could sense her mixed emotions, her fear and excitement at being so close to this relic of the vanquished gods. And in the center of everything, I could feel her soul and mine. Entwined together. A perfect pair.

  At that moment, I had but one desire: keep Ali safe. I drew magic from the wand. While my magic was powerful, it was nothing compared to Levateinn. Ancient and primordial, the wand was a direct conduit to the power of the gods.

  This was the kind of power that could drive a person mad.

  Chapter 56

  Ali

  “Do you have the crystal?” asked Marroc.


  “Why?” I asked, my mind no longer working logically. All I could think was: We have to get out of here before we suffocate.

  “I’ll use a spell to send it back to Boston.”

  A sort of euphoria blazed in my mind, so overwhelming I was on the verge of hysteria. “Oh, right! The wand. The wand can get us out of here.”

  A maniacal sort of laughter escaped my throat, which I regretted instantly. I wasn’t sure I could ever be in an enclosed space again after this. Which meant I definitely had to find a way out of the Shadow Caverns.

  With shaking hands, I dug in my pocket for the crystal. I tried to hand it to him, but he stopped me.

  “Not yet. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

  As I stood by Marroc’s side, he waved the wand in a complex series of runic shapes. The air around us glowed, brighter and brighter. Once again, I could breathe. We’re getting out of here. At last, this horror would be over. And if he was telling the truth, I’d finally get to Galin.

  Slowly, a circle of blue light formed in the air, growing wider and wider. The ring expanded, revealing a portal. Through it, I could see a much cleaner place: a rug over a wooden floor and a blazing hearth. Marroc’s living room. Oh, gods, it looked nice.

  Marroc turned to me. “All right, put the crystal into the portal.”

  I lifted my vergr crystal and began to shove it toward the glowing portal.

  “Watch your fingers. This magic is powerful.”

  Carefully, I reached through the hole into Marroc’s living room and placed the crystal on the floor of his hall.

  “Are you clear?”