Shadow Empress (Night Elves Trilogy Book 3) Page 11

  Asgard.

  Below us, a massive city spread out—or what was left of it. It was immediately clear that Ragnarok and the years that followed had taken their toll. What once must have been the gold and gleaming city of my dreams was now a jumble of broken stones and twisted metal. My throat tightened as I took in the damage.

  The only thing intact was the castle looming at one end.

  The eagle brought us down just outside the city walls, in a barren landscape of empty fields and rocks. Hovering for a moment, wings beating mightily, it gently set us down on the ground. As I stumbled forward, the eagle’s wings churned the air. With a final avian scream, it disappeared into the clouds.

  Galin crossed to me, seawater sliding down his muscles in rivulets. Even now, even with the mating bond severed, tearing my gaze off his perfect form was a trial worthy of the gods. I felt the strongest urge to cozy up to him for warmth, but I resisted.

  Stiff from the ride in the eagle’s claws, I rolled my shoulders to loosen my muscles. Then, I studied our surroundings. We were in a large field before Asgard’s city walls. Not nearly as big as the wall that surrounded Hel, but definitely too big to climb—especially after what we’d already been through.

  I hugged myself, starting to walk. “There must be a gate somewhere.”

  As Galin and I walked, a statue came into view. The enormous sculpture was in ruins, with no head or arms. Only the massive marble hammer resting on the ground made it clear who it was at once. A sense of reverence whispered over my skin, raising the hair on my nape. I was shivering from more than just the cold.

  “Thor,” I murmured. This had once been his home—the strongest of all the gods.

  Galin nodded. Then he pointed farther down the wall, where a second statue stood. Weathered and missing an arm, he wore an eye patch.

  “Odin,” Galin said in a low, quiet voice. God of wisdom.

  A shiver of excitement rippled through me at being here on this sacred ground, even if the gods were dead.

  “Where do you think we find the Well of Knowledge?” I whispered. I had no idea why I was whispering. We were the only living people here, and yet I felt like I was trespassing.

  “I don’t know yet,” said Galin. He winced, rubbing his throat. The eagle cries had apparently wrecked his vocal cords. “But I think we’ll find what we need in Bilskirnir.” He pointed over the city walls, where the golden roof of the castle rose into the night sky.

  From the air it had been obvious that the castle was large, but the true vastness of its size only became more apparent from the ground. The marble tower was massive. At least as big around as Boston’s Citadel, but much taller. Wisps of clouds drifted past it, nearly obscuring the roof.

  We walked along the marble wall, passing more statues. A goddess holding out a box in one hand: Frigg, the wife of Odin. Her sister Freya, seductive clothing wrapped around her body. A lithe god holding a wand who I guessed was Loki, son of the gods’ worst enemies, the Jötunn giants. Loki—father of my new rival.

  It took me a while to realize that mounds swelled the ground before each statue. “Are these graves, Galin?”

  He glanced at me, nodding solemnly.

  At last, we reached a gate in the wall—iron doors, wide open. I held my breath as we crossed between them into the ancient, abandoned streets of Asgard.

  Crumbling ruins lay before us—buildings missing walls, rubble littering the streets. But it was impossible not to see what it once had been. We walked down wide avenues paved with fine marble.

  Dim light filtered in through the gray clouds. A clammy fog drifted between the broken buildings, and there was no sign of life here—no birds, no living trees. The broken roofs and rubble were a constant reminder that something that had once been great now lay in ruins.

  As we moved deeper into the city, the buildings grew larger, and a feeling of unease began to crawl over me. I had a creeping sense that we weren’t wanted here. It was as if the ghosts of the dead gods were watching us, telling us to leave.

  “Ali,” said Galin in a raspy whisper. “If something goes wrong and I make a portal, I want you to go through it straight away, okay? Don’t even wait for me.” His eyes shone fiercely.

  “Okay.” I didn’t really mean it. I might be an Empress now, but I wasn’t going to leave Galin behind. If shit did hit the fan, I could at least call Skalei and try to kill someone. I’d make my own determination as to when I’d be diving through a portal to safety.

  Above us the walls of Bilskirnir loomed ever closer. Massive and imposing, it rose from the ground like a giant obelisk. In its heyday, shining and new, I imagined it must have rivaled the gods themselves. Now the stone was stained with age, and in places there were great scars in its marble walls, as if some giant beast had once sharpened its claws on it.

  As we made our way toward the castle, the clouds thickened and the sky grew darker. Rain began to fall, a light drizzle that quickly became a drenching torrent.

  “Hurry.” Galin picked up the pace.

  A rumble of thunder boomed over the horizon. And then, even farther off, another noise. Not thunder, but a howl.

  “Fenrir’s children,” Galin said quietly.

  His words sent a shudder of dread through my body. For the briefest instant, his face was illuminated by a flash of lightening. Water dripped from his wet hair as he looked behind me. Real concern glinted in his eyes—and at that moment, I knew Fenrir’s children were terrifying.

  We raced along the marble streets, their howls growing closer. Galin in the lead, his broad shoulders carving a path through the rain, and I running just behind him.

  I tried to remember what I knew of Fenrir. If the stories were true, then he’d been one of Hela’s brothers. Not a man, but a giant wolf who’d killed Odin, who’d ravaged the world during Ragnarok. Which meant that Fenrir’s children were likely wolves.

  Another howl cut through the storm.

  A crackling bolt of lightning struck a rooftop a few streets away, illuminating everything in a strobing flash of light. Raindrops hung suspended in the air; the water sloshing from the rooftops appeared frozen, like icicles. In the distance, a furry creature ducked behind a building. Fear clutched at my heart. The wolf was several stories tall.

  Galin held a finger to his lips, then beckoned me to follow him.

  He cut away from the main boulevard, and we sprinted along dimly lit side streets, sticking to the shadows. The rain fell hard and cold. If we hadn’t been running, I would have been shivering uncontrollably.

  Galin yanked me into an ancient doorway, clamping a hand to my mouth. An instant later, another lightning strike revealed the silhouette of a massive wolf’s head the next street over. I turned, and we started running again.

  One leg in front of the other, lungs heaving, freezing water soaking my skin, I kept pace with Galin. In the distance, Bilskirnir grew larger, even as around us a cacophony of terrible howls rose.

  “They’re hunting,” Galin rasped, his voice ragged.

  I didn’t answer, just fought to keep running.

  Behind us the voices of the wolves formed a deafening chorus. I counted five or six of them at least.

  The storm was directly over us now. Lightning flashed every few seconds. Galin somehow seemed to anticipate each strike, keeping us in the shadows, out of sight of the lupine predators. But I could see them now, their hairy forms everywhere as we raced between buildings. It was only a matter of time before they spotted us.

  A howl tore through the air, so close it made the ground rumble.

  They were closing in on us.

  Chapter 20

  Ali

  We were nearly at Bilskirnir, the towering castle of the gods. Three blocks away now. My breath rasped in my throat as I ran in an all-out sprint, on a narrow street that took us between crumbling buildings.

  As I moved, my gaze swept up the length of the castle. The first few hundred feet were pure stone, but after that small windows dotted the walls, dark
and empty. If anyone, or thing, lived within the marble edifice, it was impossible to tell from outside.

  “Is there an entrance?” I gasped.

  “I hope so.”

  Galin, you need to learn to be more reassuring.

  I rushed after him all the same, running down a particularly narrow alley. Then lightning flashed directly in front of us, so bright it completely blinded me.

  When my vision cleared again, fear slithered up my spine, and I skidded to a halt. A massive shadow moved in front of Galin, glowing yellow eyes beaming in the darkness.

  Galin slowed, raising his hand to scribe. But the dragon blood had left his voice raspy, barely audible. And before he could finish, the wolf lunged, its huge maw gaping open, ready to snap shut like a bear trap.

  Galin dodged just in time, but the wolf was already crouching, preparing to spring.

  “Skalei,” I whispered. The hilt of my knife was in my hand, and I threw it hard. It spun into the wolf’s eye.

  The wolf leapt back. With a mewling cry, it turned and bounded off into the darkness.

  Galin whirled, shock etched on his features.

  I exhaled. “Been practicing more than just spells.”

  Galin opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t seem to raise his voice above a whisper. And that meant he wouldn’t be doing powerful magic anytime soon. Fear began to claw at me. If Galin couldn’t scribe a portal, and we were being hunted by giant wolves, we had no margin for error.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered. “Skalei.”

  With my blade in my hand, we started running again.

  We cut through the rubble of a ruined building, heading for the next street. Howls cut through the air, making the stones tremble, and Galin pulled me into a doorway. Just in time—two massive wolves bounded past, eyes glowing in the dark.

  “They can’t smell us because of the rain,” Galin whispered.

  With the wolves past, we crept out again, more slowly now. The rain fell in ice-cold sheets, hammering my skin. My clothes were saturated, and I started to shiver.

  A deep growl trembled over the horizon, rumbling across the ruins.

  Galin pulled us into another doorway. Rainwater slid down his tattooed chest in little rivulets.

  “Ali,” he rasped. “You need to scribe a portal. My voice isn’t working well enough for the spell. You did it before. When the troll—” He winced, falling silent, eyes closed. Clearly it hurt him to speak. “I’ll help with the rune.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Okay.”

  Galin slipped behind me, his powerful body pressed against mine. Warmth radiated over me from his chest, and he slid his hand down my arm, sending a hot shiver through my body.

  Distracting. If he wanted me to focus on the spell, he would need to stop distracting me.

  I extended my arm, pointing my finger—ready to scribe the spell. Galin’s hand wrapped around mine, helping to perfect the shape of the runes. His smoky, masculine scent wrapped around my body like a caress, and I could feel his magic thrumming over my skin. My back arched, breath quickening.

  Love. I need to think of love.

  As my hand moved, I concentrated on my voice, on the incantation, on the feeling of love. Before, when I was hanging on the ladder on the side of Mount Steton, I hadn’t had time to think of a particular moment, a time when my heart had felt full. I just did it. Somehow, it came from me.

  But now, I tried to remember what Galin had told me. How he’d explained that he always thought of his mother—the love grief had revealed to him after her death. I tried to think of my own mom, but it had been so long ago. And I could mostly only remember her sick, on her death bed. I’d been so little. I couldn’t even remember her face anymore.

  A wolf howled. So close and loud I could feel my lungs vibrate in my chest. Whatever sense of love I might have found was replaced with blinding terror.

  Love.

  A hundred yards down the street, a massive wolf strode into view—nearly three stories tall, with dark matted fur and long legs. It sniffed at the ground, then lifted its head and howled.

  Galin tried to speak, but it only came out in a whisper again. “Run.”

  We broke into a sprint, tearing down the street away from the wolf.

  We swerved sharply left, and Galin gestured to a broken window. I leapt in, narrowly avoiding the jagged glass. Galin was right behind me.

  The wolf tore past us, giant toenails clacking loudly on the marble. We ran again, rushing through the interiors of the abandoned buildings, leaping over piles of broken marble, ducking under shattered beams.

  All around us, a frenzy of howling boomed through the city, deafening. Wolves in a full chorus of hunting cries. Hungry for our flesh. It seemed like they’d surrounded us now.

  When we got to the end of the block, I saw that at last, we’d reached the great wall of the castle, built of marble blocks twenty feet high.

  Unfortunately there was no sign of any sort of doorway.

  My lungs heaved as I looked to Galin.

  “What now?” I mouthed.

  He nodded at the pack of wolves, and an understanding dawned. They were guarding the entrance.

  There was no other way in.

  Moving more slowly now, we began to make our way towards them, using the castle wall to protect our right flank, keeping our eyes fixed on the streets to our left. Looking for any sign of movement. As we reached a particularly large and open boulevard, I saw a giant set of doors carved into marble, a hundred yards off. Above it, a string of runes was written on the stone. Unfortunately, I couldn’t read them from here.

  We crept closer, and fear clutched at me again. Filling the entire end of the boulevard and blocking the doors was an enormous wolf—jet black fur and big green eyes that gleamed in the darkness. The largest wolf I’d seen yet.

  My heart skipped a beat as the beast’s head swung in our direction, and I realized it’d spotted us. For a moment its green eyes fixed on mine, then it raised its massive head and howled.

  Across the boulevard was a clattering of rubble as two more wolves strode into view. The fear that had been percolating in my veins began to curdle.

  “Skalei.”

  Side by side, Galin and I moved into the boulevard, away from the wolves. I gripped Skalei tightly.

  Then the black wolf barked, and another pair of wolves appeared, cutting off our retreat.

  Galin moved round behind me, so that we stood back to back. Prowling, the wolves closed in on us—two facing me, two facing Galin. The big black alpha continued to watch from the steps of the castle.

  The rain slowed, and the wet stones of the boulevard shone with moonlight. Across from me, the pair of wolves stalked closer, icy mist swirling around their forepaws.

  I threw Skalei, and the blade flashed in the moonlight. It was a good throw, but as the blade neared, the wolf jerked its head to the side and Skalei flashed past, clattering harmlessly on the stones.

  Balls.

  “Skalei.”

  Behind me, Galin tried to speak, but all that came out was a faint rasping sound.

  My jaw clenched. Of all the times to lose his ability to speak properly …

  But if I couldn’t summon love—what about anger? I dropped Skalei and raised my right hand. As fast as I could, I began to scribe kaun.

  The pair of wolves across from me crouched, ready to jump. Anticipatory drool dripped from their jaws. In moments they’d be upon us. We’d be torn to shreds.

  I gritted my teeth, letting rage build within me. I hadn’t come this far to end up as dog food. I was Ali, daughter of Volundar. I was an Empress, ruler of all elves. And I could do magic.

  The anger was white hot within me. Churning in my veins like molten lava. Galin pressed his back against mine. His muscles rock hard, his shoulders completely rigid. I could feel his sympathetic rage. The anger that was simultaneously boiling his blood, feeding mine. He must have sensed what I was doing, and he was helping me somehow.

&nb
sp; I slashed the final rune through the air, as I spat out the last syllable of the spell.

  My rage, Galin’s rage, every ounce of anger I could possibly summon, I channeled into the rune. Just as one of the wolves started to pounce, the air around us began to shimmer. Then, with a blast of heat, the air exploded in an incandescent inferno. Heat burst from my body, and flames raced out in all directions like the shockwave of a meteor strike. The wolves yelped with pain as they leapt away, racing into the rubble of the broken city, fur blazing.

  And then the spell was done, and my legs gave out. Weak, shaking, I slid down Galin’s back. My vision narrowed to a single point, but Galin’s powerful arms were around me.

  With one arm supporting my back and the other under my knees, he lifted me to his bare chest. I looked up into his perfect features, his pitch-black eyes reflecting the stars above.

  Then my vision flickered, as Galin turned to face Bilskirnir. The castle doors appeared above us, carved with the faces of the gods—and a single word. Valhalla.

  Chapter 21

  Ali

  Galin held me against his wet, bare chest as he carried me inside. Fatigue shattered my body, making my muscles shake. The fire spell had wrecked me.

  Inside Valhalla, darkness enveloped us. Galin of course couldn’t see a thing, nor with his wrecked voice could he call up a spell for light. I would have to be his eyes.

  Still, even before my eyes adjusted I knew something was off. It smelled of smoke and old food, as if someone was living here.

  I squinted until the room came into focus. I saw the marble first. There were stairs at one end, and long hallways in either direction. Detritus lay in heaps all over the place—gnawed bones, old ragged clothing, and a charred pile of logs in the center.

  “Galin,” I whispered, “we’re in some sort of entrance hall. There are bones everywhere, but I don’t see anyone around.”

  Galin grunted something unintelligible, then gently set me down on the floor. My muscles still felt like rubber bands, but I’d gained enough body control to lean against the doors. I was exhausted, still soaking wet. Galin slouched next to me, and I found myself leaning against his bare chest, which was like pure steel under his smooth skin. Warm, though.