The sheets felt damp beneath me, but when I looked down at them, they appeared perfectly dry. I sat up, sorting out the foggy confusion that filled my mind.
“Is everything all right?” Asher asked, and I looked over at him with a start.
At the sight of him lying shirtless in bed beside me, relief rushed over me like a tidal wave, and a surprised sob escaped my lips. It was over, and he was here with me, and he would pull me into his arms, and I would feel safe and loved in a way that no one else had ever made me feel.
His blue eyes—normally so dark, like the ocean during a storm—almost seemed to glow in the light from the billboard.
I had the most intense urge to memorize every detail, as if part of me was terrified that this might be the last time that I saw him. So I took it all in, savoring the wonderful contradiction of him. The rugged roughness of his face mixed with the soft features of his full lips and high cheekbones, his black hair disheveled and his thick eyebrows pinched with worry.
I reached out, unable to stop myself, and put my hand on his cheek. I had to feel him, to know he was real, that he was here with me. His stubble scraped deliciously against the palm of my hand, and I let my thumb linger on the small scar at the top of his lip, like a soft comma.
“I had the worst dream,” I told him, barely able to speak around the lump in my throat. “I dreamt that you were gone.”
His expression turned sad and apologetic, and he put his hand over mine, the one lingering on his face. His skin felt rough and cold, and … somehow not quite right. Not how I remembered his hand feeling when he touched me.
“Oh, Malin,” he said thickly. “It wasn’t a dream.”
“What?” I asked, my voice trembling, and then I felt it in my chest. My heart breaking all over again, and his words burning into it. “No, but you’re here. You’re here with me now.”
“I’m not really here,” Asher replied forlornly. “And you can’t find me.”
He started slipping away from me. The bed began to lengthen, pulling him away, and putting distance between us. I reached out, grabbing his hand, meaning to cling to him forever if I had to.
“Why can’t I find you?” I asked. “Why won’t you let me?”
“There are far more important things in this world than me,” he said as his hand slid out of mine. “But I need you to know that no matter what happens, you will be all right, and I cherished every moment we spent together.”
“No, Asher, wait!” I started crawling across the bed, scrambling through the sheets, but no matter how quickly I moved, he only got farther away from me.
And then I was falling, plummeting into the darkness and through trees with pine-needle branches stinging against my skin, until finally I hit the bottom. My head smacked painfully against a rock, and a bright white light blinded me for a moment.
Cold raindrops splashed on my face, and I could only smell the exhilarating delicious scent of pine and earth and rain. I opened my eyes, staring up at the trees towering over me.
Then someone stepped into my view, blocking the dim light, and the rain falling on my face blurred my vision, so I couldn’t see who it was—only a shadow standing over me.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his voice deep and warm, and he held out his hand to me. “You need to wake up.” A raindrop splashed into my eyes, so I closed them tightly. “Wake up, Mal.”
Then I realized it wasn’t his voice, but Oona’s. And it wasn’t far away, it was right above me, speaking in a panicked whisper.
“Mal, you have to wake up,” Oona insisted, and I opened my eyes.
For some reason, I expected it to be dark, but I clearly saw Oona—her short black hair disheveled and damp, apprehension hardening the soft edges of her features and creasing her smooth skin. When she realized I was alive and awake, her taut expression changed to a relieved smile, although her dark eyes were still tinged with worry.
Beneath me, the ground was damp and uneven, and the air had a thick musty smell, like a root cellar or deep cavern. Despite the moisture, the air was oddly acrid, burning my lungs and throat and causing me to cough.
“Valeska says you’ll adjust to the air,” Oona assured me once the coughing fit had passed.
I tried to shake off the dream and the gnawing ache inside my chest. I could still feel Asher, slipping through my fingers as I cried out for him, and it left me with a longing so intense that it felt like my heart had literally been split in two.
I blinked back tears, gulping down the bitter air, and tried to take in my surroundings. I was in a whole new realm, seeing things that no Valkyrie had ever seen before, and I tried to focus on that and push down the pain.
The ceiling of the cavern we were in was hundreds of feet above us, and the trees surrounding us reached higher than the tallest skyscraper. There was no sun, at least not that I could see, but there seemed to be an ambient light, so it was as bright as the earth on a cloudy day. I lay in a tangle of thick roots gnarled up from the dirt around me, and cool water from the nearby river formed tributaries between them.
“We’re here, then?” I asked as I slowly sat up. “We made it?”
“So far,” Oona said with a grim smile.
A stone was digging into the palm of my hand, and I realized that I still had my fist clenched around the hematite crystal.
“Do you want this back?” I asked.
“No. Put it in your pocket. We need all the help we can get here.”
I did as she suggested. We appeared to be in the middle of a forest, with thick towering tree trunks with no branches or leaves. At least none until it got to the ceiling, where the branches appeared to be mixing with the dirt and holding it above us.
Valeska crouched a few feet away, on the banks of the river, and she was rinsing all the muck off the Valhallan cloak. The mouth of the river came from under the trees, and it widened as it flowed away from us.
“How long was I out?” I asked as I got to my feet.
“Not much longer than us,” Oona said. “We were all knocked unconscious when we came through, but we’re all okay.”
I stepped carefully over the roots to meet Valeska at the banks of the river. Up close, I could see the river had a dark cobalt color to it, like the night sky. She stood up and shook the cloak, drying it off some.
“Do you know where to go from here?” I asked.
“This is the Huber River,” she said as she began rolling up the fabric. “It runs straight through Kurnugia, and Zianna is the heart of it. So if we follow this river it should eventually take us to Zianna.”
“Are you sure about that?” I asked.
She gave a rather dramatic eye roll as she handed me the damp, smelly cloak. “No. I’m not sure about anything, but that is my educated guess.”
I looked back over my shoulder at Oona, who gave a helpless shrug. We were alone in the forest, at least as far as I could tell, but there was no telling how long we would be or what might be lurking around the trees.
“Are we all ready to go?” I asked as I shoved the cloak into my bag, and I glanced up at Oona and Valeska.
They were all geared up, with their packs on, and I could just make out the crescent outline of the Sibudu Key under Valeska’s tank top. Their clothes were wet and muddy, with dark smudges of earth smeared on their skin, and Valeska’s already untamed hair appeared even wilder than normal. I suspected that I looked about as filthy as they did, but there was no sense in wasting time washing up, especially since the underworld wasn’t exactly renowned for its cleanliness.
“Let’s get on with it, then,” I said.
“So what’s the plan?” Valeska asked as we made our way along the river, carefully stepping over thick roots. “I mean, we follow the river to Zianna, then what?”
“Odin said that Baldur took the spear into Zianna, so that’s the first goal.” I paused to help Oona step over a particularly tall bramble. Then I continued, “Once we get there, I’ll use the sólarsteinn to lead us to the exact location.”
> Even though Valeska wasn’t much taller than Oona, she didn’t need my help. When she stumbled or lost her footing, she merely flapped her wings and elegantly righted herself.
“But how are we going to get into Zianna?” Valeska asked. “It’s not like they just let anyone waltz in and out. That’s the whole point of the city.”
“I doubt there’s a lot of spells to keep mortals at bay, since we aren’t even supposed to be here,” I pointed out, crossing my fingers. “But that’s also why we brought Oona along.”
“When we get close enough I can get a sense of what kind of magic is protecting Zianna, and I can tailor a spell or potion to get us through,” Oona elaborated.
In front of us was a steep embankment several meters high, but fortunately the twisting roots worked as a makeshift ladder. Valeska bypassed it all and flew up to the top, while Oona and I followed more slowly.
As we made the climb, Valeska looked down at us and asked pointedly, “You really think you’re powerful enough to do that? No offense, but didn’t you say you’re just a sorceress-in-training?”
“I’m not just anything,” Oona snapped, giving her an icy glare. “I’ve been training for a long time, and I know a lot, and I’m actually at the top of my class. Besides that, I got us through that geyser safe and sound. You didn’t get any burns this time, did you?”
“Fair enough,” Valeska said.
She bent down and extended a hand toward Oona, who seemed to debate a second before accepting it and letting Valeska help pull her up onto the top of the embankment.
The trees had thinned considerably, and the roots were no longer protruding through the dirt to trip us up, leaving a relatively smooth path alongside the river for us to follow.
“I’d expected there to be more creatures and whatnot down here,” Oona commented. “There has to be thousands of years of beings. I didn’t think we’d ever really be alone.”
“We’re out at the fringes of Kurnugia,” Valeska explained. “But we’ll run into immortals soon enough.”
No sooner had the words escaped her lips than we heard a man let out a bloodcurdling scream, following by growling and the gnashing of teeth.
FIFTEEN
Instinctively, I crouched down, grabbing Oona’s arm to pull her down with me, and whirled around to see a rather disturbing scene unfolding about fifty feet away from us.
A body went hurling through the air before crashing into a thick tree trunk. When it landed, I realized it looked human, with delicate, androgynous features. Two small antlers poked through the long bright crimson hair on its head, the antlers being the only visible supernatural part.
But I only had a few seconds to look at the fallen body, because a large reptilian monster—a sirrush—was tearing through the trees toward it. While shiny emerald scales covered the majority of the creature’s body, running all down its long neck and torso, its legs were covered in a thick dark fur, appearing more like they belonged to a large jungle cat than a dragon. The talons were long and razor-sharp, and a solitary horn protruded from the center of the beast’s head.
I had seen pictures of a sirrush in books, but I’d never encountered one before in real life, and as it lunged toward its prey, I found myself immensely grateful that I’d never been tasked with returning one of these things.
While the red-haired victim wailed—screaming in agony, really—the sirrush reached out and sliced it open with a sharp talon, disemboweling it.
Without thinking, I stood up and shouted, “Hey!”
“Malin,” Valeska hissed, but it was too late. The sirrush turned back to look at me, flicking its forked tongue at me while blood and intestines oozed out of its victim.
It was stupid, and I knew that instantly, but I couldn’t stand by and let this dragon eviscerate somebody. Not when they were screaming and begging for mercy.
“Get out of here!” I shouted, hoping to intimidate a monster that very clearly would not be intimidated, and I unsheathed my dagger.
The sirrush stepped toward me with its solitary horn pointed right at me, and I dismally recalled the conversation I’d recently had with Oona in which I’d reminded her that because we were mortal, we could die in Kurnugia. And there would be no coming back for us.
“Lux splendida!” Oona shouted, and a bright white light flashed, more intense than a lightning bolt, and momentarily blinded me.
The sirrush cried out in surprise and pain, clawing at its eyes. Apparently deciding that whatever made that light wasn’t worth the trouble, it ran off into the woods, back to where it had come from.
“You’re so lucky that worked,” Valeska said.
“I should work on a cloaking potion,” Oona said. “I doubt very many of the monsters we encounter will be so easily frightened off by parlor tricks, so it’d be best if they didn’t notice us.”
“Good idea. And thank you for saving my life,” I told her, and though I meant it, my attention was fixed on the victim, who was still groaning and bleeding.
I walked over, meaning to help if I could, and as I got closer, I saw a looped square branded on the victim’s shoulder, where the shirt had been torn. It was the Hannunvaakuna—a Finnish symbol of good luck—and I realized that the red-haired victim was most likely Lempo, a trickster god.
“Are you okay?” I asked, extending my hand toward him.
He didn’t say anything and barely even glanced at me as he pushed himself to his feet. His intestines were literally tumbling out of him, leaking all kinds of grotesque fluids everywhere. He cradled them in his arms as he began to walk off into the woods, but a long loop dragged behind, collecting dirt.
“A thank-you would’ve been nice,” I muttered as he walked away, but he never turned back or said anything.
“Why would he thank you?” Valeska asked, and I turned to face her. “It’s going to happen again in a few days, maybe even tomorrow. Over and over, he’s going to be eaten alive by that sirrush or some other monster.”
“Holy shit.” I stared down at the trail of blood he’d left on the ground as my stomach twisted in knots.
I’d learned about this in school. Kurnugia was where immortals went when their time on earth was done. There was nowhere else for them to go, and they couldn’t die, they were immortal. They would just heal up and do it all over again.
One of the first stories we’d been taught in high school about Kurnugia was the tale of Prometheus. He’d angered Zeus, so he’d been chained to a rock, where his liver was eaten daily by an eagle, and every night it grew back, only to be eaten again the next day.
The teacher told us that when he was finally marked for death and the Valkyrie came for him, Prometheus had been grateful and thanked her for setting him free. Eternity in Kurnugia was a reprieve from his torturous life on earth.
That lesson was supposed to teach us that Valkyries were necessary, and not even a necessary evil, but something good. Something that spared immortals from the pain of living forever on earth.
Even then, I had known that wasn’t true. They still had eternity to live somewhere—it was only the humans that had been spared sharing it with them. And now, seeing the bright red blood of a repeat victim, I realized that the Valkyrie had not saved Prometheus.
There was no reprieve for him. He’d merely been shuttled somewhere else. It was the same eternal punishment, only with a different wrapping.
SIXTEEN
On the ground in front of us sat a squat black candle in a votive holder. All sorts of symbols were etched into the rhodium metal, creating a lattice effect that the light could shine through. Or at least the light normally would shine, except this flame was dark blue and cast little light.
Despite the small size of the candle, it produced a considerable amount of indigo smoke, but I guessed that was the point, based on the way Oona was fanning it toward us. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except the smoke had a pungent odor. Like fermenting blue cheese that had begun to rot in the sun.
“Ugh.” Valeska gro
aned in disgust and held her nose. “Is this really necessary?”
Honestly, I would’ve complained as well, but the combination of the putrid scent mixing with the acrid air caused me to have a bit of a coughing fit.
“It is if you want us to go unseen.” Oona remained undaunted as the smoke billowed over us, and she began chanting, “Omnium visibilium et invisibilium omnium manemus.”
When she had finished, she picked up the candle and blew it out.
“I know the valerian root candle reeks something fierce,” Oona said. “But it’ll help with our concealment.”
“So now we’ll be invisible?” Valeska asked.
“Not exactly,” Oona said and carefully placed the still-warm candle in the side pocket of her backpack. “But we will be less visible. Others can still see us, but they have to be looking for us.”
“Let’s move on so I don’t have to smell that awful candle anymore,” Valeska muttered, and started walking ahead without waiting for either of us.
As we walked along the river, none of us said anything. I tried to take in the sights, but there wasn’t much to see. It was mostly various shades of brown. The dirt ground leading into clay walls, with the occasional tree holding up the ceiling.
For a while we were alone. At least as far as we could tell. But eventually we started coming across some immortals. Several large griffins were drinking from the river, and we gave them a wide berth, but they never even glanced in our direction.
As we went on, the river became busier, with more immortals walking alongside it. Some were drinking from it, while others appeared to be swimming or socializing. It wasn’t all that different than going to a lake on a summer day, and there was something oddly disquieting about that. How normal and ordinary the immortals seemed to be existing here in the underworld.
“Your enchantment seems to be working,” Valeska told Oona, since none of the beings around seemed to notice us. We’d moved away from the flowing water to give them more space, and no one reacted to us at all.
“We still have to be careful,” Oona said. “I imagine it’ll be easier for the more powerful immortals to see through the spell.”
From the Earth to the Shadows Page 7