TheElskerSagaBoxedSetIBOOKSdec2014

by ST Bende

  “Fly!” Elsker ordered. She reached for my hand and pulled me up after her. We shot from the ground through the window as the demons thundered after us.

  “Which way did they go?” a grating voice cried. In seconds they were right behind us, and closing in.

  “What do we do?” I asked Elsker.

  “When I give the signal, turn and hold your palm to them. I want you to picture a lion charging at them, teeth bared, ready to pounce. Push that image out from your hands. Can you do it?” She didn’t stop moving as she spoke.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  “Okay…now!” Elsker shouted.

  We stopped and turned toward the pursuing mob, palms out to project the image. I saw not one, but nine giant cats leap from our hands and bear down on the group. There wasn’t time to process the absolutely insane fact that my hands could congure magical attack animals in this realm. And there wasn’t time to absorb the shrieks of fear or the crunching of bones as the lions picked off the demons one by one, flinging their remains to the dusty ground until only a dozen of the monsters remained. Every bit of energy I could muster was focused on our escape.

  “Now fly!” Elsker grabbed my hand and took off again. We shot through the air.

  “Follow the light,” Elsker hissed and we directed our cords skyward. Up, up, until we reached a doorway nearly exploding with brightness. “Go through.”

  “You first.” I opened the door and shoved her inside, tumbling after her.

  “My path leads back to Asgard—my body is there, under Odin’s protection. Get back to your body quickly. And thank you.” Elsker gave me a nod and shot off to the left. I heard footsteps behind me but I didn’t turn to see which of the monsters was tracking me. I raced to the right until I saw the gates of Ýdalir. I flew through, back down to the chamber, and climbed back into my body.

  I’d made it. But it had come at a price.

  Chapter Ten

  THE VISION WAS TOO much. My head spun, the needles now machetes hacking my frontal lobe, and without knowing how I got there I was back with Olaug, crouching on the floor. My entire body was covered in sweat and the only thing I wanted was sleep. It had been worth it. In the same way I had known so many things, I was positive this was the vision I was meant to see—the one with the potential to alter Ragnarok, to save Asgard and Earth.

  Olaug handed me a glass of water and a towel. As I gulped it down, I panted. Words gushed out of me in a downpour as I relayed the events I’d seen. “Did you get all of that?”

  Olaug’s grim nod confirmed my hope—this was our enemies’ battle plan. It was what we had been waiting for.

  Without a word, she strode to the laptop that was her lifeline to Asgard. Odin came to the screen. He looked very different than he had at our wedding. His face seemed much older now, lined with the stresses of the past few weeks. His expression was guardedly hopeful.

  “Ja?” he asked in Norse.

  “It is time,” Olaug replied. “Kristia has seen the plans.”

  “Bare bra—very well. Kristia, stay at Ýdalir and wait for Ull. You shall be protected; our enemies would make terrible use of your gift. Olaug, come to me the moment Ull returns. Tyr and I will finalize our strategy when you arrive. And Kristia.” Odin’s voice softened. “Thank you. You have done us all a great service.”

  I was too exhausted to do more than nod but Odin’s gratitude touched me. I knew it had taken a lot for him to welcome me to his family.

  “I will await your arrival, Olaug.” He signed off.

  Moments later, Ull climbed out of the chamber in the wall. He looked like he’d been to hell and back. His shirt was caked in blood, and there were speckles of crimson in his hair that I seriously doubted were barbeque sauce. If the way he limped through the door was any indication, he had to be in an enormous amount of pain.

  “Oh Ull!” I tried to stand to help him, but I was too weak to do more than push myself up on my elbow. When Ull’s eyes fell on me, still crumpled on the ground, he rushed to my side in a panic.

  “Kristia, are you all right? Is she all right?” He turned on Olaug. “What happened to her? Great Odin, why is she curled up like that?” He dropped to kneel beside me. “Darling, I am so sorry I left you here. Can you move? Are you hurt?” Turning on Olaug again, he thundered furiously, “What happened to my wife?”

  I lifted a shaky finger to his lips. Even in this state, just touching their soft perfection was almost too much. I pulled his face to mine with all the strength I had left and kissed him.

  “I’m all right, Ull. I promise. But are you? You look like…what happened to you?”

  He ignored my question. Instead he breathed with relief, scooping me off the floor to cradle me in his arms. “What is going on?” It was directed at Olaug; he couldn’t ask any more of me.

  “Are you okay, Ull?” Olaug’s face formed a mask of concern as she took in his appearance.

  “I am fine. My concern is for Kristia.”

  Olaug nodded. “Her visions worked. She saw the meeting. She has seen what we need to win.” Olaug quickly described my revelation, and Ull’s eyes grew.

  “Kristia, you promised you would not do anything risky. If I had known you were planning to do this tonight, I would have watched over you.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry about me. You have so much to deal with, I couldn’t give you anything else.”

  “Oh, Kristia.” He buried his head in my hair. Any other man would have looked at my exhausted form and said ‘I told you so,’ but my bloody warrior just held me. “You can always talk to me. Please do not take on such an enormous burden on your own, ever again.”

  “But I wasn’t on my own.” I pointed out. “Olaug was with me. Elsker was too, kind of. She was trapped in the tenth realm, but we got her out. Ull, breathe! I promise, she’s okay. We all are.”

  Ull’s gratitude toward his grandmother was matched only by his irritation. “Then both of you must promise to include me in your schemes from now on. Please.” His concern as he took in my sweat-soaked body was evident. “This took far too much from you, my love.”

  How could he say that? Ull’s burdens over the past few months had far exceeded mine. His hands trembled, though with fear for my welfare or exhaustion from whatever he had been doing in Asgard, I couldn’t say. It didn’t matter; we couldn’t afford any weakness now. The crux of our battle was only beginning. Olaug had to leave right away to get word to Odin so he, Thor, Sif, and the strongest warriors could move to destroy the creatures I’d seen.

  “Wait—Olaug,” I whispered. She paused on wobbly legs. “Forget what that creep said. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  “What did what creep say?” Ull asked.

  “I’ll explain later.” I squeezed his hand and turned to Olaug. “You’re going to be just fine. I know what we have to do to fix this, and I promise we’ll set this right.”

  Olaug nodded and turned to the Bifrost. With utmost care she grasped her notes in her hands, entered the chamber, and spoke the oath of fealty to Asgard that Heimdall required before opening the bridge.

  When she was gone, Ull cradled me tightly, stroking my hair as he rocked back and forth.

  “Explain. What is happening with Olaug?”

  “Oh, Ull. It’s awful. Elf Man cast the Crushing Curse on her—and unless we kill him, she’s going to die!”

  “No,” Ull growled.

  “And there’s more. Turns out Elfie is Loki. He’s the one who’s been coming after me in my visions. And he’s the one who cursed Olaug—he’s the reason she’s sick. I’m sorry I didn’t realize who he was before.”

  Ull sucked in air. His eyes narrowed to slits and I was fairly positive he would have shot daggers from them if he could. “That venomous backstabbing…after all Odin has done for him.” He shook his head. “Well, you are safe now. He will never get through me. And we will set things right for Olaug.” Ull’s hands cradled my body, and his blue eyes bored into mine with such intensity my mind w
as wiped clean. “Kristia Myhr,” he murmured, in a tone that wasn’t altogether reproachful. “What were you thinking? You scared me half to death.”

  “I’m sorry, Ull, I really am. But I couldn’t give you anything more to worry about.”

  He eyed me with admiration. “And I thought you could not get any braver.”

  “Speaking of brave, why is there blood in your hair?” My voice cracked. “And all over your shirt?”

  “There was a situation.”

  “I thought Odin was just giving you busy work so I could do my whole Seer thing?”

  “Hardly,” Ull snorted. “I would have seen through that. No, my dear, we were overcome by ikkedød.”

  “Ikkedød?”

  “How do I explain?” Ull looked to the ceiling. “They are a hybrid of demons; undead warriors of Helheim’s mistress, Hel.”

  I shuddered. “What do they do?”

  “The better question is what do they not do?” Ull shrugged. “They are shape shifters; mood influencers who steal their victims’ souls by sucking their energy right out of their bodies; and intensely efficient fighting machines. They can overpower their prey in the amount of time it takes most gods to draw their weapons. If an ikkedød wants you dead, it is nearly impossible to survive.”

  My breath caught. “Then how are you here?”

  “I said they could overpower most gods. It would take a lot more than Hel’s minions to keep me from my girl.”

  “Oh, Ull.” I held my hands to his cheeks and pressed my forehead against his. I wished I could have been with him to help him through whatever nightmare he’d just endured. I probably wouldn’t have been of much use, but I hated knowing he’d been on his own.

  Except he hadn’t been on his own. Gunnar and a team of warriors had been with him. They’d already taken down a dozen of the monsters and were making sure the forest was clear when one dropped in on Ull and stabbed him right in the—

  I pulled my face away from Ull’s and lowered my hands. My voice was far shriller than I meant for it to be when I demanded, “Show me your stomach.”

  Ull lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it on the ground. “It is not the ideal time to be romantic, but I am always in the mood if you—”

  “That’s not what I mean. Good Lord, Ull.” I ignored the streaks of blood that covered his chest like war paint. Instead, my fingers reached out to hover over the gaping wound on his midsection. “No wonder you’re so bloody. We have to get this stitched up. I can’t believe that demon stabbed you with a tree. A tree. Seriously?”

  “It was a large branch, maybe a few inches in diameter. Not a tree.” Ull stilled. “And how did you know that?”

  “I…I saw it. When I touched your face.” I jumped up and ran for the tiny kitchen. “We can talk about that later. I need to get you fixed up. Why isn’t that healing?”

  Ull shrugged. “It was probably laced.”

  “With what?” The banging of the cupboard doors echoed through the chamber as I tore the space apart. “Where in the name of all that is good and holy do you people keep your first-aid kit? It isn’t anywhere in here! And why are you laughing?”

  “Because.” Ull crossed the room and stood beside me. His biceps flexed as he placed his hands on the kitchen counter. “I do not need a first-aid kit. The ikkedød probably laced their weapons with some kind of poison, which accounts for the slow healing. Toxins affect us, just as they affect humans. But Heimdall injected us with a repulsion serum when we crossed the Bifrost. Any object, liquid or gaseous that enters my bloodstream in the next twenty-four hours will automatically eject itself within a quarter of a day. Most poisons take longer than that to damage our cellular structure—a perk of immortality. So while this is inconvenient, and not all together comfortable, it is not something that requires a first-aid kit.”

  My hands wrapped firmly around my waist and I tapped my foot. “First of all, that is seriously ingenious of Heimdall. And second, I’m your wife, and you’re bleeding. Humor me. Where is the kit?”

  Ull sighed, then returned to the couch. “Second shelf, cabinet to the left of the sink, in the back.”

  “Thank you.” I found what I was looking for, then ran a clean towel under warm water. Ull raised an eyebrow as I approached, but he didn’t object when I kneeled in front of him. “Oh, Ull. This looks terrible.”

  “I have had worse.” He winced as I dabbed at the wound.

  “It hurts,” I sympathized. “This will hurt more. Sorry.” Ull rested his head on the back of the couch as I poured rubbing alcohol on a fresh towel. He sucked in a sharp breath as I pressed it against his stomach. “I’m sorry,” I apologized again.

  “I can take it,” he muttered.

  It took a few minutes to clean the wound, and by the time I’d removed most of the blood I could see the actual injury looked smaller. The flesh was slowly knitting itself back together. At this rate, it would be nothing more than a memory by the time I put away the medical kit.

  “You weren’t kidding. Whatever Heimdall gave you is working.”

  “I know.” Ull held out his arms. I climbed onto the couch and snuggled against his naked chest. “What I do not know is how you saw inside my head. Your visions do not usually work like that, do they?”

  “I didn’t think so,” I admitted. What had I been doing when I saw the ikkedød drop out of the tree and stab Ull? Had it been the way I touched him? Or was it the intention behind my thoughts? “Can I try again?”

  Ull ran his fingers along my hairline. “Be my guest.”

  I sat up and cupped Ull’s cheeks, placing my forehead to his, like I’d done before. I focused on remembering the image I’d seen of Ull, Gunnar and the ikkedød, and suddenly Ýdalir disappeared. Instead, I had a panoramic view of a moonlit forest.

  It was cold; a thick fog settled around my legs, obscuring my view of everything from waist-level down. Not far away, I could see ten gods moving slowly through the darkness. They wore black, and carried weapons of varying sizes—Gunnar held his cross-bow at eye level, Ull carried a broad sword. Another held two daggers, while one had a mace. They crept on silent feet, shifting their attention with each tree they passed. They kept glancing up, though nothing in the forest moved.

  “This quadrant’s clear,” Gunnar called.

  Ull nodded. “They must have gone underground. Regroup and head for the south fork. We will sweep the riverbank, then report back to Odin in—”

  Before he could finish, something dropped out of a tree. It lunged as it fell, impaling Ull’s stomach with a branch.

  “Faen,” Ull swore. He doubled over, clutching his arms across his torso as a dozen other figures fell from the trees. They were gnarled; flesh and bandages hung off exposed bone as if they’d been decaying for decades. But any resemblance to the dead stopped there. These creatures moved fast, struck faster and looked like they were designed for destruction. They were disgusting, deadly, and absolutely terrifying.

  Ull pulled the branch out of his stomach with a deep groan. “Elite Team, strike…now!”

  The warriors jumped to action. Blades swung as metal clashed with exposed bone. Some the ikkedød dropped into the fog, cut in half by the enraged assassins. But the others swirled in a mist that blended with the fog, disappearing completely.

  “Regroup,” Ull commanded. The warriors formed a tight circle at his side.

  “You okay, mate?” Gunnar nudged Ull with his elbow. He never lowered his crossbow as his eyes scanned the trees for another attack.

  “Fit as a fiddle,” Ull grunted, shifting his sword in his hand.

  “Kristia’s little idioms rubbing off on you?” Gunnar’s game face disappeared as he broke into a smirk.

  “Shove it,” Ull retorted. “My two o’clock.”

  The warriors turned as a unit, and charged at the figures emerging from the fog. The ikkedød came in the form of bushes but when Gunnar fired a series of arrows the foliage exploded, leaving behind nothing more than the stench of decay.
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  “Was that all of them?” Gunnar turned a full circle, never lowering his crossbow.

  “Anders is on stats. What was the projection?” Ull turned to the ginger-haired god next to him.

  “An attack unit should have held a dozen.”

  “And how many went down?”

  “By my count? Eleven.”

  “Dritt,” Ull swore.

  Gunnar stalked toward the nearest boulder. He leaped into the air and came down, crushing it with his bow. The rock dissipated, and shards of granite flew in all directions.

  “Was that it?” one of the warriors called.

  “Naw. No stench.” Gunnar threw his fist at a tree. The impact left a deep hole, but the tree remained standing. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he warbled.

  “That should send it running. Is that your plan? Flush it out with bad singing?” Ull swung his sword at a shrub, chopping off seven inches.

  “Maybe.” Gunnar grinned. “You got a better plan?”

  “Get down!” Ull yelled. Gunnar dropped to the ground without question, disappearing beneath the fog as a rotting figure flew out of the trees. It dove after Gunnar, and for a moment all I could see was the ripple of the mist as god and monster struggled underneath. Ull charged across the forest. He leapt at the spot I’d last seen Gunnar, arms and legs outstretched. There was a heavy thud as he struck the ground, followed by the raking sound of metal on bone. For a brief moment I could see Ull’s sword poke through the vapor before it disappeared again. Then I heard the sound of metal piercing flesh, followed by a thick gurgling; it sounded like a clogged sink. In a flash I surmised someone was choking on his or her own blood, and my stomach clenched as I waited to see whom it was. I hadn’t seen Gunnar in more than a minute.

  Ull’s sword flew out of the fog, the final ikkedød still attached to the blade. It struck the thick trunk of the nearest tree, pegging the monster to the trunk. Before I could blink, the demon vaporized, leaving nothing more than a heinous odor behind.

  My eyes combed through the haze, searching for the spot Ull and Gunnar had been. I waited for what felt like an interminable period, but the mist stayed as still as the Nehalem River at low tide. Ull’s team closed in, canvassing the ground through three feet of pea-soup fog. As they searched, a movement caught my eyes. A tousled, blond head rose from the mist, followed by thick shoulders, and finally a strong torso. Ull stood, carrying Gunnar in his arms. Our friend’s chest was covered in blood, and his eyes were tightly closed. His left arm hung limp at his side, sliced so deep I got an anatomy lesson much more vivid than anything I’d had in school. Before it had been destroyed, the ikkedød had sliced clean through Gunnar’s tendons.