by Leia Stone
Tore crawled unsteadily toward me, a dark blob hovering near his stomach. I hated Nott even more for hurting Tore. That goddess was going down.
“Get up, Pepper,” Tore rasped as he closed the distance between us. His boots squeaked on the wet ash as he struggled to stand. “Greta won’t be able to hold Nott off for long, and we need to get that weapon piece off this realm. Now.”
“But the Mack Pack—Greta. I won’t leave them!”
“They’ll be fine. Bodie, Johann, Sar, and the rest of Astrid’s team are on the bluff with Greta. They can take care of things here. But you and that piece are the priority. Move.” Tore wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me forward. I lost my footing when the ground shook again, and as I stumbled, I turned my head to the left. Across the river, Greta held her crystal wands above her head. She brought them together in a violent clap, and the rocky walls of the gorge trembled. Stones shook, and several mid-sized boulders tumbled from their perches. Not good, Greta. She may have wanted to bury the night goddess, but at the rate those boulders were falling, it looked like she’d bury us right along with Nott. Think Allie, think. How are we going to get out of this?
“Allie!” Greta shrieked. “Incoming!”
Incoming what?
“Hold out your arms, Allie,” Tore barked from behind me. He moved to my side and raised his arms so his hands were level with his shoulders.
Well, fine. Without a word, I mimicked Tore’s pose and made a T with my arms and my torso. When a shadow flew overhead, I looked up in relief. Scarlet. My dragon had heard the horn, and she’d come for us. Her scaly talons wrapped lightly around my waist, hooking me into her feet and pulling me upward so quickly, I gasped.
“Oh, my God, how high are we going to—what is happening?” I cried incoherently, kicking my legs as the riverbed grew smaller beneath me.
‘Master Allie scared. Scarlet bring friends.’ The voice of my telepathic dragon pressed into my head, answering one of my questions but raising a million others.
I looked down at the riverbed growing smaller and smaller, and sure enough, a multitude of many-hued dragons dropped in to pick up my friends.
‘How did you get here? How did you find me? Where did you get friends?’ I had no idea my dragon had buddies, other than her sister. I’d thought they were supposed to be territorial.
‘Stop moving, Master Allie. Hard to carry.’
‘Sorry,’ I apologized as I craned my neck. Scarlet’s sister, Big Blue, flew alongside us, holding Tore by his waist. He’d shifted his arms to grip the dragon’s feet, a solid failsafe in the event Big Blue accidentally let go, and his long blond hair blew in his face with each flap of Blue’s wings. And though we were easily a hundred feet above a raging river, Tore looked as calm as if he were sipping hot cocoa by the fire back in Trondheim. Showoff.
‘One of your friends picked up Mack, right?’ I asked my dragon. ‘He and his brothers were in trouble, and . . .’
I couldn’t speak the words and Elo died, not even telepathically. I’d barely gotten to know my god-brothers; it wasn’t fair that Nott had taken one of them from me . . . worse, from Elora. How was I going to tell my sweet, gentle godmother that she’d lost a son?
‘Dragons rescue all of Master Allie’s friends. Even fallen one.’ A wave of sorrow passed between Scarlet and me, and I knew she understood.
‘How did you—never mind. We’ll catch up in Trondheim. Can you get us out of here?’ I asked.
‘Scarlet not amateur,’ she huffed.
Despite my heartache, I couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to me to get the sarcastic dragon for my warrior-life-partner.
‘Then God speed, sister. Let’s book it. Oh, look out!’ My gut clenched as Scarlet nearly bruised my feet clearing the top of the gorge.
‘Master Allie,’ Scarlet admonished.
‘Right. Sorry. Not an amateur. But one more thing—can you guys pick up Astrid’s team too? They should be—’
‘On way to Midgard, Master Allie,’ Scarlet assured. ‘Warriors and protectors halfway to Trondheim. Just hold on. Dragon travel no like Bifrost.’
Well, that was the first good news I’d heard all day. I hated the Bifrost.
“Pepper!” Tore shouted from a few dozen yards away.
“What?” I called back. It was seriously weird to be talking to someone wrapped up in a dragon’s feet.
“Don’t know if Scarlet’s told you, but do you see that break in the sky up ahead? The jagged black shadow that looks like a rip?” Tore swung his leg forward and pointed with his foot.
“Uh, yeah? Oh, no, is that a dark portal? Scarlet!” I shrieked. “Look out for the dark portal!”
‘Please,’ my sarcastic dragon chuffed, at the same time as Tore shouted, “It’s not a dark portal, Allie. It’s the dragon’s transport site. Hold on really tight to Scarlet. My gut tells me their transport system’s nothing like the Bifrost.”
And here I’d just been thinking that was a good thing.
Dear Universe, I began. Please don’t let me die in the dragon-magic portal that—
But I didn’t get to finish my prayer. The second Scarlet touched the rip in the sky, a vise gripped my temples and squeezed all cohesive thought from my brain. My body was reduced to sensations—none of them pleasant, and most of them involving resisting indescribable amounts of pressure from every conceivable angle. My body was smashed from the outside at the same time as it was blown apart from the inside, and despite Scarlet’s reassuring grip, a fresh wave of terror washed through me. Dragons might have been able to withstand whatever insane transport system this was, but my poor body was clearly not up to the task. I was going to die today, not at the hands of a psychopathic dark goddess, but clinging to the foot of my very well intentioned, but apparently misguided, pet dragon.
I just hoped Ophelia would be willing to feed her once I was gone.
***
Relief washed over me as we were spit into Trondheim, right in front of the barn. Tore and I lay gasping on the ground. I clutched my stomach as I tried not to be sick.
“Greta!” I croaked. “Mack!”
Tore reached out and grasped my hand. “It’s going to be okay.”
I tugged my hand free and stood up, leaning against Scarlet as I struggled to stay upright. “You can’t know that,” I whispered. “Elo…”
A popping sound pulled my attention behind me. The air ripped open and a black dragon emerged, Johann carrying an unconscious Astrid atop the reptile’s back.
Oh, God, no.
“Astrid!” I raced toward my friends as Johann slipped off the dragon, Astrid in his arms. If she’s dead, I quit life. I can’t take this.
Tore limped to my side, his warm energy a soothing presence in the midst of the chaos.
“She’s okay,” Johann assured us. “She got knocked unconscious as we were leaving.”
Oh, thank God.
Another rip spit Bodie, then Malena, and finally my god-brothers onto the ground. The back door opened and closed, and I braced myself as my protectors’ parents filed onto the porch. I knew what was coming.
But Elora’s cry was something I couldn’t prepare myself for. And it was something I’d never forget. Not in a million years.
“Elo!” Elora’s garbled sob ripped from her throat, her pure, unbridled grief dropping me to my knees. She charged down the porch steps as Mack pulled his fallen brother from the back of an orange dragon. “Oh, my sweet Elo.” Elora cradled her son in her arms. She wailed at the sky, her long hair cascading down her back in trembling waves.
Greta emerged next, and Tore moved quickly to check her over but she shook her head, placing her hand atop my boyfriend’s stomach and wincing at the dark energy she pulled from its depths.
“We’re going to need to remove that,” she assessed.
“Soon,” Tore murmured. “We lost Elo in Svartalfheim.”
“Oh. Oh, no.” Greta leaned closer to whisper in Tore’s ear. But even as they spoke, I could
n’t take my eyes off Elora. There had been so much death—so much loss. It was more than I could handle. I needed a break.
From everything.
I fumbled with my pouch until my fingers wrapped around the last piece of Gud Morder. When it was in my grasp, I threw it on the dirt and charged away from the barn. My feet pounded the path along the side of the house, and I was gunning it for the garden when I heard Tore’s shout.
“Allie, come back!”
“Let her go. She needs time.” Mack spoke calmly, but Tore’s angry growl told me he wasn’t taking Mack’s advice like I had when the tables had been reversed.
Before he could follow, I hurdled the white picket fence to sprint across the neighboring field and away from my grieving friends. My breath came in heavy rasps as tears streamed down my cheeks. This was my fault—all of it. Elo and Vidar had been killed by Nott, just for being associated with me. Enough was enough. I couldn’t take this pressure anymore.
I ran without knowing where I was headed, not realizing my feet had carried me all the way to town until I pulled back the ivy on the secret door that led to the Hage. Creatures stared as I raced past the park, but at least nobody knew me there; nobody viewed me as the harbinger of death that I had surely become. I kept running, still directionless, until I reached the hedge maze. I made my way through the greenery, trailing my fingertips along the leafy walls, until I emerged on the other side. The row of cottages stood in front of me, and as I stared at a crimson front door with a wrought-iron knocker, I raised my hand to my head. What was I doing there? What was I thinking? My friends would be worried sick, and my boyfriend had a dark magic malady that needed Liv-level healing. Stupid, Allie. How selfish can you be?
I was about to turn around and go home, when the crimson door opened and a plump, wrinkled woman stepped out. Her silvery-grey hair sat in a bun atop her head, and I recognized her as the woman from the shop in Skykomish—the one who’d sold me my necklace a lifetime ago. She stilled when she saw me, and I half expected her to run. Instead, her features softened into a sympathetic smile, and she held her door open wide.
“My sweet child,” she tutted. “You’ve been through an ordeal, haven’t you?”
Had my wet clothing tipped her off? Or was it the blood caked along my ripped pants? I knew the woman was trying to be nice, but I’d literally been to Helheim and back since I’d last seen her. My friend had died in my arms on Svartalfheim. I wasn’t exactly feeling the pleasantries.
But rather than lashing out I just nodded. “Yes. I have.”
“Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?” she asked.
I hedged. Did I want to have tea with the woman who’d started me on this insane journey? The one who had led me to loss, and death, and heartache, but also to love, and hope, and an awakening of the most unlikely of sorts? My necklace pulsed, the crystal sending a surge of energy through my centers. Yes, it seemed to advise. You do. And I knew that its response rang true. This woman may have set me on the path to gut-wrenching loss. But she’d also introduced me to the family I’d never known I had—my mother, my god-family, my protectors—and the love of my immortal existence. I did want to have tea with her.
I also wanted to give her a stern talking to about the importance of obtaining informed consent before selling magical jewelry that outed one as a demigod, but that seemed slightly aggressive. Patience, Allie.
“I’d love a cup of tea,” I said instead.
“Then please. Come inside.” The woman smiled gently, and I made my way toward the door. The moment I crossed the threshold my concerns disappeared, almost as if someone had taken an eraser to the whiteboard of worry lining my brain. I looked back at the woman in confusion, wondering how I could feel so light when my heart had been heavy just seconds—and feet—before.
“There is no room for grief in my home. You can pick yours up on your way out.” The old woman closed the door behind her. She tottered to the kitchen, where she lifted an already steaming kettle from the stove, and filled the china teacups atop the counter with hot water. Wait, she had two cups and hot water ready. Had she known I was coming? More importantly, how did she just check my grief at the door like it was a coat? Who the heck was this woman?
My crystal pulsed as the woman placed two spearmint tea bags in the cups, and handed one to me. We settled down at the tiny kitchen table, and her eyes fell to the gem at my neck.
“It suits you,” she said simply.
“Thank you for helping me find it,” I said. And I meant it. No matter what pain this piece had caused me, it had brought an even bigger amount of joy. I wouldn’t have traded my love for Tore and my new family for anything in all the realms.
“It was yours by right.” The woman smiled. “I just helped it find you.”
I wrapped my hands around my teacup, inhaling the soothing spearmint, and met the woman’s curious gaze. “If this is your home, that must mean that you’re a . . .” I trailed off, recalling what little I’d learned about the Hage. Asgardian snowbird, Alfheim refugee, and masterful waffle maker were all possibilities, but given the woman’s awareness of my demigod identity even before I’d known of it myself, the more likely possibility was that she was a—
“I’m a Norn,” she said easily, confirming my theory and sending my brain reeling all at once. “And your destiny has been tied to mine since before you were born. I foretold your mother’s fate, just as I helped guide you toward yours.”
Whoa. That was a lot to take in. I was having tea with a Norn.
Craziness factor officially maxed out.
I gulped tea in an attempt to soothe my sudden onslaught of nerves.
“Allie.” The Norn reached across the table to rest her hand atop mine. “You need to know that it is not your fault that Elo now dwells in Valhalla.”
The tea lodged in my throat, and I spluttered for breath. Elo. The front door rattled, and the old woman gave it a sad look.
“Your grief is nearly too sizeable to be kept at bay,” she said. “But you must understand, this was always Elo’s fate. He was put on Alfheim to protect you, and thereby all the realms. No matter what you might have done differently in the past few hours, he always would have died at Nott’s hand.”
The door stopped rattling as I slumped forward in my chair. “I don’t want to be responsible for any more lives lost. I want to kill Nott myself.”
The Norn tilted her head to study me through narrowed eyes. She was silent for a long time, before shaking her head decisively. “No. No, that will not work. It is a noble thought, but one that will end with your death, and allow for Nott’s reign.”
I stared forlornly into my half-empty teacup. “I’m not afraid of death.”
The Norn set her own cup on the table with such force, I jumped. “If you die, Nott gains control of the realms. If you die, we all die.” She leaned forward, and I tried not to freak out as her intense eyes bore into mine. “You were given protectors for a reason. Do not let Elo’s sacrifice be for nothing. Heal Nott, wake your mother, and end the Night War. Tonight.”
The old woman raised her hand to her mouth in a gesture I associated with blowing a kiss. But when she breathed into her hand I flew backwards. My teacup slipped from my hands, landing neatly on the table as the front door opened and I was sucked outside. My grief slammed back into me as I landed on my butt on the porch, heaviness settling back into my centers like liquid lead. But I couldn’t focus on my pain. The Norn had said something that had certainly been a mistake.
She had told me to heal Nott. Not kill her, finish her off, or murder her sorry butt. Heal her.
What the hell was I supposed to do with that?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“ALLIE!” TORE’S RAW VOICE greeted me as I made my way back through the Hage. He scooped me into his arms with such force, the sentinel elf atop the pub shot me a look.
“You know him, miss?” the elf asked.
“I do.” I nodded gratefully. “But thanks for looking out
for me.”
“You need help, just yell.” The elf resumed scanning the area, but kept the wild-looking Tore in his sights. Though I didn’t need assistance, I appreciated the elf’s chivalry.
“Allie.” Tore inhaled deeply, his nose pressed against the side of my head. “Thank gods you’re all right.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyelids, and the liquid lead in my centers won out. “But I’m not,” I whispered. “Elo, Vidar—they’re both dead because of me. I don’t know how I can—”
Tore pulled back, placing one finger to my lips while snaking his arm around my lower back. My body pressed against his as I breathed in the scents of winter and redwoods and mint and . . . home. Tore smelled like home.
“Allie, are you kidding me? No one blames you. Especially not me.” He pressed his forehead against mine, meeting my eyes for the first time since he’d nearly tackle-hugged me. There was so much love in his gaze, my tears unleashed with a vengeance. I wasn’t normally a huge crier, but lately it seemed my tear ducts had minds of their own. Dang it. How do I turn these things off?
“Did you ask for Nott to do any of this?” Tore questioned me. “Did you force her to turn to the darkness?”
I groaned. “No, but—”
“Then it’s not your fault.” Tore stared at me. “Your own mother has been asleep for most of your life. It’s not like you’ve gotten to live without loss.”
Maybe. But that truth wouldn’t remove the memory of Elora’s cry. Or the way she’d cradled her dead son in her arms.
“Tore, I . . .” I couldn’t finish the thought. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh.” Tore kissed the top of my head. “No apologies. We need you back to work. Astrid’s got a pretty bad concussion. We could use some of that Liv back home.”
“You need a healing too, right? How’s your stomach feeling?” I scanned the area where Nott had struck him with her dark whip, but the darkness was gone. “Did Greta fix this for you?”