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Secret of Gloomwood Forest

Page 11

by Keira Gillett


  Jorkden’s freedom was short-lived as Olaf used his river to push the troll under the waters. Zaria was horrified. She couldn’t watch it.

  She shouted, “Olaf, I agree to complete the bargain. The heart of Gloomwood Forest for the freedom and safety of my friend, Christoffer.”

  Olaf laughed happily and immediately stopped attempting to drown Jorkden. Zaria reached up to her neck to pull off the necklace, but Olaf didn’t slow at her; he raced past her to the elk. Zaria dropped her arms, confused.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Olaf stroked the white pelt with delight. The elk reared back with an awful bugle of alarm. He pranced away from Olaf, but didn’t get far as Olaf snared him with a collar made of ice.

  “That’s not the heart,” Zaria said.

  Olaf laughed. “Silly, Princess. The Hart be the next Stag Lord of the ellefolken. With him in my possession, they and the elves be not stopping what comes next.”

  “No wait,” Zaria said, rushing forward. Olaf froze her feet in place.

  “No take backsies. I be taking the Hart of Gloomwood Forest,” he said firmly. Then he clipped a harness on the elk.

  “You tricked me,” Zaria accused, eyes welling with unshed tears. “I would never have agreed to a bargain where I had to trade one innocent life for another.”

  “Tricked, Princess? You made your choices. Don’t blame me for the outcomes of them. Your friend be freed, and you will be too once we be safely gone.”

  The river parted then and a hole appeared. The stag grappled mightily with Olaf, but was no match for the troll. The journey had sapped too much of his strength. Zaria sobbed. She didn’t understand, but knew this was wrong. She’d made another horrible mistake.

  When the elk and the troll vanished from sight, the river closed over the hole and was gone. Zaria’s feet loosed and she half-ran half-stumbled to her friends on the bank. She barely heard the mountain-trolls renewed struggle for their freedom.

  Aleks opened his arms as she neared and Zaria collapsed into them sobbing. The friends hugged tightly. Zaria blubbered incoherently until Filip shook her.

  “Enough,” he said kindly. “We can’t understand you.”

  “This is… this is awful,” Zaria cried. Her violet eyes and nose were red from her hysterics.

  “I should have realized it sooner,” Aleks said, taking the blame. “My dad and I go hunting all the time. Bucks, harts, bulls, stags – these are all names for the male of the species. I should have known Olaf didn’t mean a physical heart.”

  Geirr’s attention was focused on the struggling mountain-trolls. More were regaining their feet as the ice melted or they chipped at it.

  “They’re breaking free,” Geirr stated worriedly.

  Aleks groaned. “I can hardly walk let alone run.”

  Zaria watched as Jorkden broke his legs out of the ice. “The ice is melting and becoming fragile. Hurry, get to the water.”

  “What?” Filip asked. “Why?”

  “The bargain with Olaf,” she explained, pushing Filip in. He fell backwards into the freezing water with a yelp. “Oops! Sorry! Hurry! Go!” she urged Aleks and Geirr.

  They hopped into the river and Zaria quickly followed as Jorkden moved toward them angrily. He stopped feet from them and glowered.

  “Olaf’s protection might extend to you here on his river, Princess, but you won’t be able to stay in it for long. We’ll wait you out.”

  He motioned to his trolden, and they scrambled to the shoreline. There he reunited with his great bear and waited, just like he said he would. Flint colored eyes watched them, glittering with hatred. He pulled his three lieutenants over and whispered to them. Without a backward glance the three trolls melded into the forest.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen: Unleashing the Dragon

  They had been standing for hours in the river’s waters. At first they had tried to walk in the shallows of the river to get away, but all too soon Aleks became too tired to go further. He’d then been carried a ways by Filip and Geirr at turns. It didn’t do any good. The mountain-trolls kept apace, taunting from the shoreline, until Zaria stopped and told the boys to stop.

  Zaria, Filip, Geirr, and Aleks were now huddled together for warmth. Zaria’s teeth chattered. She kept a wary eye on the trolls as they milled around their makeshift camp. A group had started a fire some distance from the river. The warm glow beckoned to Zaria. She wanted to reach out and touch the flames. She was so cold.

  “This sucks,” Filip groused, voicing everyone’s thoughts. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead, his nose was bright red, and his green eyes drooped with the need for sleep.

  As the temperature dropped with the sun’s setting, fog crept over the water. At first nobody paid it any attention. As it grew thicker Zaria gasped in delight. Her outburst garnered the attention of her friends, and also the trolls.

  Jorkden frowned at her and looked around. His eyes widened. “Get cover!” he bellowed.

  Trolls scrambled, and the camp fell apart in the stampede for the tree line.

  “What is going on?” Geirr asked. “Why did you gasp?”

  “Norwick!” Zaria said, pointing skyward.

  “Wyvern!” yelled the trolls.

  Geirr and the boys looked up. Through the gloom and fog, a large and familiar shape appeared. It was Norwick and a very angry looking Hector.

  Other shapes emerged and Zaria gasped again in delight. More riders came in on other wyverns. The wyverns were glorious, ranging in shades of white, grey, and brown.

  Archers aimed and fired. Arrows rained down on the trolls’ camp. A half a dozen trolls were wounded in the initial onslaught. None were killed. It was clear that the mounted elves were not aiming to kill but to wound.

  It was not so with the trolls. Jorkden and his trolden threw their spears at the flying cavalry. One of the spears struck and the wyvern screeched in pain, tumbling end over end in the air. Zaria and the boys cringed expecting the worst. His rider, however, was skilled and confident, and pulled the wyvern out of the freefall and out of harm’s way.

  “Go home,” Hector shouted to Jorkden and the trolls. His face a furious mask. “You know the rules. The Wild Hunt is not allowed in these woods.”

  “We’re not leaving without the princess,” Jorkden shouted.

  “I won’t ask again,” Hector said.

  “The princess is ours!”

  “I’m not going with you,” Zaria shouted back, crossing her arms. “So don’t hold your breath.”

  “You don’t know what she’s done,” Jorkden taunted.

  A string of curses exploded from the troll, when Hector casually aimed and fired his rifle. The bullet deeply grazed Jorkden’s arm.

  “Believe me,” Hector growled, lowering the weapon. “I do.”

  Zaria shrank, keeping her gaze lowered. The anger in Hector’s voice worried her. Her mouth went dry from nervousness.

  Jorkden opened his mouth and cursed again, swiftly dodging another volley of arrows from the other riders. He was fleet-footed for a troll, Zaria observed.

  She watched the proceedings; her attention riveted to the trolls’ dirty fighting tactics. They hurled logs, tossed pots, and climbed trees to jump at the wyverns. Geirr tugged on her arm. She looked at him. He pointed to their feet.

  “Grab rocks,” he said, bending over to grab a handful.

  Zaria didn’t want to stick her hands in the cold water, but did it anyway. Filip gave Aleks an armful and reached back into the water for more.

  “Aim as best as you can,” Filip told her with a wink.

  The boys hurled the rocks with force. Their added distraction helped the riders. With trolls ducking in one direction from the children, the elves were able to aim at them in such a way that the trolls couldn’t recover and dodge in the other. They dropped like flies, clutching arms, legs, and their sides. Their howls of outrage filled the clearing.

  “Children,” Hector called. He and three other
riders landed in the middle of the camp. “Hurry!”

  Zaria and the boys dropped their rocks. Geirr and Filip shoved their shoulders under Aleks’ arms and ran as fast as they could toward the wyverns. Zaria hesitated a fraction of a second then followed.

  Hector pulled Aleks up onto Norwick and took off. Geirr and Filip went with two of the riders as Zaria hurried over to the last.

  The rider was a tough looking female with skin the color of bark. The woman was reserved and didn’t look at Zaria. She hauled Zaria up with an iron grip and launched her wyvern into the air without a word.

  Zaria clung to her, unable to enjoy the flight, knowing she would be in trouble when they landed. Hector was the current Stag Lord and she was fairly certain she’d just traded his son’s life for her friend’s. There could be no forgiveness for an action like that.

  ***

  Learning the consequences of one’s actions was not pleasant, especially when the results were bad. The minute Zaria landed in the elves’ silver clearing Hector hauled her off the wyvern and stood her in front of him. His eyes blazed with fire. He scared her.

  “I’m sorry!” she wailed, not waiting for him to speak, her face crumpling.

  “Don’t cry,” Hector said, the fierceness in his face softening slightly. “Tell me what happened. How did Hart end up in Olaf’s control?”

  “Hey!” Filip yelled, rushing over. “Leave her alone!” He stood between Zaria and Hector.

  Zaria sucked in a deep breath, willing her eyes to stop watering. There was nothing worse than crying when you didn’t want to cry. “I didn’t know Hart was the elk. I thought Olaf meant the shape.” She made the shape with her fingers.

  Hector motioned for Filip to move aside. “Zaria, I need to know what happened. It’s important. Don’t spare any details.”

  “Olaf would only release my friend for the Hart of Gloomwood Forest.”

  “Good Lord,” Hector breathed, his eyes widening in understanding. “So my Hart was the target all along.”

  “Hart?” Filip asked, confused. “The elk? Yours?”

  “He’s my son,” Hector said, grimly, confirming for Zaria what she had suspected.

  “But he’s an elk!” Filip interjected. “How can he be your son?”

  “Hakon will have to be informed,” Hector said to himself, ignoring Filip. “This will change things.”

  “How is an elk your son?”

  Hector looked up, catching Filip’s gaze than Zaria’s. “Ellefolken – elk-folk. You children have no idea the predicament you’ve put us in. None. Tensions were high before, but now… Damn.”

  Zaria bit her lip. “Tell me. I can make it right.”

  Hector laughed hollowly. “Oh Princess, you are kind to think it, but this will be for the elves and ellefolken to decide. We are the guardians after all.”

  By then Geirr and Aleks had hobbled-slash-hopped over. Geirr panted heavily under Aleks’ weight.

  “You need to lose weight,” he complained.

  Aleks whacked him on the head. “You need to work out more.”

  “Guardians of Queen Helena’s realm?” Zaria asked.

  Hector nodded, grabbed Zaria by the arm and marched her to Edevart’s and Frida’s home. The boys followed. The looks on their hosts’ faces were grim. Hector shut the door as the children arranged themselves at the table.

  “We heard the news,” Edevart said quietly. He gripped Hector’s shoulder in commiseration. “We will get Hart back.”

  “Thank you, friend,” Hector said. He pulled out a chair and sat in it heavily.

  The weight of the world seemed to weigh on him. Zaria felt awful. She sniffled and clutched at the necklace she was still wearing. Hector’s gaze burned brightly. He leaned forward and snatched it up.

  “You have the necklace,” Hector said with a laugh. “Princess, I believe all is not lost. Give it to me.”

  Zaria undid the knot and handed it over. She was happy to learn she did something right in this mess.

  “I thought this necklace was what Olaf was after, Hector,” she said with regret.

  “It isn’t,” Hector said, carefully securing the necklace around his neck. “But it’s linked to Hart and will lead me to him. I can do the rest.”

  “Why does Olaf want your son?” Filip asked.

  Frida answered for Hector. “Because, without Hart, Hector cannot reinforce Helena’s realm.”

  At their puzzled looks, Hector explained. “The elves guard the river to ensure nobody crosses in and out of Helena’s realm. It is the most obvious way into the realm, but it is not the only.

  “The kings of the ellefolken are the barriers of Helena’s realm. Our females can change their shape at will. They can be being, elk, or tree as it suits them.

  “The males of our species are few. There is always a king, an heir-apparent, and the spare. As males we can change our shape but once.

  “We start out as elks and grow to adulthood in the glade of the Golden Kings, surrounded by our fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers.”

  “The circle of trees are the ellefolken kings,” Zaria said putting it together. The hidden faces in the bark made so much more sense.

  Hector nodded. “Yes. The glade is the safest space to raise the males. The protection of the other males makes it impenetrable to those who seek to disrupt Helena’s realm.”

  “Why would losing Hart disrupt Helena’s realm?”

  “Our roots anchor her realm. The kings of present and past work together to secure the realm and hold it in place. We are the foundation of the Under Realm.”

  “Is that what you meant when you said as king you wouldn’t have freedom?” Aleks asked, his eyes troubled.

  Hector sighed. “Yes, it is what I meant. I will be stuck in place forever. I may watch the others live but I will be separated from it ever after.”

  “That’s so sad,” Zaria whispered.

  Hector stood and took off his cloak. He hung it on a peg and sat back down. “I never looked forward to it. I had hoped to stay in this form for many more years. Hart wasn’t happy about it, for he couldn’t change forms until I did. I regret our last argument about it.”

  Frida touched his hair and moved around him to make a tea service. “Your son knows you love him. We will all work to rescue him. Do not doubt it.”

  “He knew better. In our elk form we are not to leave the protection of the glade unless under dire circumstances.”

  Zaria gulped. “I might have implied that my circumstances were dire.”

  Hector rubbed his neck tiredly. “The complications involved will be tremendous. The implications are unfathomable. What exactly is Olaf up to?”

  “Something about coal,” Geirr offered.

  Edevart plopped heavily into a chair. “No!”

  “How bad is that?” Aleks asked, stretching out his leg with a grimace.

  Edevart noticed and hopped back out of his chair bustling around for a bowl of water and a rag. Everyone watched him, not talking until he sat at Aleks’ feet and started to tend him.

  “Koll,” Hector said gravely, “Is the first dragon. His name literally translates to darkness. If Olaf seeks to free him, the dangers we face have just increased greatly. And Olaf now has one piece of the puzzle. Hart.”

  “And Helena’s shoes?” Zaria asked.

  “Another part,” Edevart said, wrapping Aleks’ leg in clean bandages. “You’re fine,” he told Aleks and stood to clean up.

  Zaria bit her lip, worrying it. “How many parts?”

  “Four,” Hector said. “Taking Hart cripples the ellefolken because I will not be able to take my place by my father in the circle. If there is rotting I will not be able to shore up defenses. I will not be able to reverse the rotting. The corruption will spread, taking out the Golden Kings one at a time until the Under Realm collapses.”

  “What are the other two parts?” Filip said, standing to pace. He got in Frida’s way, and she pressed him into helping her serve the others.
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  “The Drakeland Sword. Olaf will need it to break Koll’s chains before the Under Realm collapses, or theoretically Koll will be crushed in the void with the others. And you, Princess,” Hector said.

  “Me?”

  “It was supposed to remain a secret until you came into your powers, but we can’t afford to keep you in the dark any longer. You must remain safe.”

  Zaria kept her gaze firmly trained on Hector with a feeling she already knew the answer. “Who’s my mother?”

  “Queen Helena.”

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen: Reuniting with Families

  Hector and the three riders from before took them home. Zaria was of conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay and undo the damage her choices had caused, she wanted to go home and hug her parents tightly, and she wanted to see Christoffer to know he was safe.

  From Norwick’s back she watched as the miles sailed by. The struggle to get north contrasted sharply with the smooth sailing on their journey south. It was impossible to imagine that it was midnight on Saturday and that by the time they were home it would be Sunday morning. The week had flown.

  “Down there,” Hector said, pointing.

  Zaria followed his finger and saw the first lights of Fredrikstad. Hector motioned to the others and they started their descent. Zaria strained her gaze to see if anything or anyone was moving.

  The wind whipped at her face and hair, sending her braids flying. She worried that her parents knew of her adventure. She was in so much trouble already, and she didn’t want any more.

  Hector harrumphed. “It looks like the stargazer held. Remarkable. I wonder who crafted it because they generally do not hold up this well.”

  Zaria looked and saw the city. Unmoving cars with headlights snaked around the streets. It looked like a massive traffic jam, except the noises one would associate with a city were absent.

  “That’s good isn’t it?” she asked after a beat.

  Hector shrugged. “I don’t know. Ellefolken do not play with time. Its power is not meant to be this strong. The further you travel from the place you set it the quicker time should have snapped back into place.”

 

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