Shadow Empress (Night Elves Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  But maybe there was another way—it was just one that involved sacrificing the wand, and I would be putting all my trust in Galin. What other choice did I have?

  I pulled the wand from the portal. “Release him, and you can have it.”

  Hela nodded, her eyes half closed, expression stony.

  “Get me the wand, my dark king,” she said to Galin.

  Galin crossed to me, but as he reached for the wand, I threw it behind Hela, watching as she turned to look at it. Then I lunged forward, and wrapped my arms around Galin.

  All it took was one word to connect us to the vergr stone—and I just had to pray that my brother would come to his senses and follow.

  Light flashed, and Galin and I disappeared.

  Chapter 8

  Ali

  For a moment, my eyes blazed with violet light. Then, the light faded, and I found myself in my quarters again, my arms wrapped around Galin’s chiseled chest. I forced myself to step back.

  “You can stay away from me.” My voice sounded like ice. “You’re only here because I needed a sorcerer to stop the draugr. And now, if Barthol doesn’t return, you will be collateral. When we’re done, I will trade you for my brother. Clearly, you belong in Hel.”

  “Is that right?” he said tonelessly.

  Anger still vibrated through me, and I glanced at the stones sitting on a shelf by an open window. They glimmered faintly, casting violet light over the clean white walls, and the gauzy drapes that floated in the breeze. One was mine, the other Barthol’s. His crystal was right where he’d left it.

  We’d lost the wand, but all Barthol had to do was say the word.

  I closed my eyes, uttering a silent prayer. Please say the word. Please give him back to me.

  But who was I praying to? Only one god walked the nine realms, and she was the living nightmare who’d trapped my brother.

  I pulled his crystal from the shelf, clutching it as I willed him to appear. My chest grew tighter, dread sliding through my blood.

  A minute passed, then another, but there was no sign of my brother. Dammit Barthol. Just say the word.

  I felt Galin’s warmth near me, and smelled his scent of wood smoke and sage. I opened my eyes to see those midnight eyes on me.

  He peered down at me, faintly curious. “He won’t be coming. Hela’s persuasive powers are unparalleled. I’ve only recently started to learn to resist them.”

  A million objections screamed in my mind, but through them all, a clear and quiet voice told me that I would find a way to get Barthol back. There was simply no question—I was not going to leave him there with the Goddess of the Dead.

  Galin had tricked me, and now, my brother had paid the price.

  “Your letter called us there,” I hissed. “Nice little trap you and your queen set for me. And this is why I had to sever the mating bond—to find out that deep down under that sexy exterior, you’re a monster. Now I know the truth.”

  He flinched, almost imperceptibly. The runes inked on his chest shimmered ominously. His expression was as grim as the shadowy magic that drifted around him. “And if you hadn’t severed the ties, I might never have realized I was entranced by a selfish wretch. I’d be thankful, except I no longer feel anything at all.”

  Fury ignited in me, and the words rang in my mind. “Nothing?”

  “Certainly not desire.”

  I tried to see through my haze of anger to focus. “Same with me,” I lied. But I was losing focus now, and there were more important things to discuss. “Wait. What do you mean her persuasive powers are unparalleled?”

  “Hela’s magic is invasive. It descends on your mind like a shroud. Once she sinks her death magic into you, it’s not easy to think on your own.”

  My throat tightened. “Okay. Wait. Did she force you to be her lover against your will? Is that how you ended up as her consort?”

  The breeze toyed with his hair. “No.”

  Nausea rose in my gut, and I glared at him, reminding myself that it was none of my business. “Okay. Never mind. Why did you tell her that Barthol was my brother, giving her leverage over me?”

  “You don’t need to be a goddess to see how alike you and Barthol are. She knew. She tests people. It’s what she does.”

  I inhaled deeply. “And when you tried to take the wand from me,” I said. “Was that her influence?”

  “I wasn’t trying to take the wand from you.”

  I blinked. “Yeah, you were. I was there.”

  “If I wanted to take the wand from you, I would have taken it. If I didn’t want to leave Hel with you, I would not be here now. You’re an assassin of the highest order, but your raw physical strength is no match for mine. I told her where the wand was because she knew it was there. It’s Loki’s wand—her father’s wand, connected to her magic. Even I could feel its power. She was testing you, testing me. Trying to see what we would do. She wanted to see if I still felt anything for you. I had to play along, or she would have just killed you. It would have been better if you hadn’t showed up exactly when she was there.”

  Shadows darkened the air around him. “And it would have been better if you hadn’t brought your brother. The bottom line is—Barthol won’t be breaking out. But having me here is leverage. You were right about that much, she wants me in Hel.”

  Horror washed over me as I thought of what my brother was being subjected to. I caught myself on the edge of the table as the room seemed to spin. “I have to get him out.”

  “I will return to the goddess as her consort, and you will get your brother back. As you said, I belong in Hel.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “If you’re so loyal to this goddess, then why are you defying her?”

  “I want to stop the draugr hordes from destroying the world. I was the one who raised her. It’s my responsibility to fix this. And when I return, you’ll get Barthol back.” He was offering to save my brother, but an edge of steel undercut his voice. “That is what you want, right?”

  “None of this is really what I wanted.” I started pacing, my mind still whirling with panic. “Will Hela hurt him?”

  “No, not physically at least.”

  I frowned. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

  A knock sounded on my door.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Empress, it’s Swegde,” he called through the door.

  “You may enter.”

  The door swung open, and Swegde’s eyebrows crept up when he saw Galin. “You returned with the sorcerer.” His eyes moved from Galin, back to me, then to the rest of the room. “Where is Barthol?”

  “In Hel,” said Galin.

  Swegde’s eyes widened, and I saw on his face the horror I’d felt only moments earlier. “Dead?”

  “No, he’s alive,” I said quickly. “Hela took him as collateral—to insure Galin’s safe return.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but I didn’t want Swegde freaking out.

  Swegde narrowed his eyes at Galin. “You will return in exchange for Barthol?”

  “Yes. There is little for me here, anyway.”

  Disappointment slid through me.

  A muscle in Swegde’s jaw worked. As much as I believed in Galin, he did not. “The council is waiting for you,” he said at last.

  Seated at the council table were Bo, Lynheid, Harald, and Sigre. Their eyes widened as they took in Galin—and the fierce-looking tattoos that slid over his muscles. From a chandelier above us, candlelight wavered, shadows moving back and forth over the room.

  “He’s here.” Lynheid stood. “But where is Barthol?”

  “He remains in Hel as Hela’s prisoner. We will get him back,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

  Harald’s face had gone pale, muscles rigid. With a scrape of steel he drew his sword, lip curled. “I am Harald, Prince of Midgard. As ruler of the High Elves, I place you under arrest.”

  Galin stared at him, hardly moving. “On what charges?”

  “You committed the most serious of crimes: regicide,
patricide, fratricide. You killed King Gorm, and you pushed your brother to his death. Do you dispute this?”

  “No.”

  “Then you will submit?” Harald stalked towards Galin.

  “No.”

  That was his whole defense? During his time in Hel, Galin had become even more reticent than usual. He hardly spoke more than he had when he’d been a lich.

  I sighed. “Put your sword away, Harald.”

  Ignoring me, Harald readied his sword. He stood five feet from Galin, close enough to strike.

  Galin had gone still as stone, his black eyes locked on Harald.

  Harald lunged. I shouted for him to stop, but it was too late. He drove his blade towards Galin’s chest, but just as the sword plunged into the sorcerer, Galin whispered a spell.

  Darkness filled the room, the candles snuffing out at once.

  There was a crash, and Harald swore. Then, the candles flickered to life again, bathing the room in warm light.

  I stared. Where Galin had been, there were only wisps of black smoke. He’d completely disappeared. Harald’s sword was lodged in the oak table. Now armed with only a dagger, the prince slashed at the empty air.

  “Where is he?” he shouted, his face red.

  “Here.” Galin reappeared beside him. Harald spun, but not before Galin’s fist slammed into his jaw. Harald crumpled to the floor, and his knife spun across the stone.

  My muscles tensed; I was quickly losing control of this situation. “May I remind you—”

  My lecture was drowned out by a shriek from Sigre as she yanked the hair pin from her platinum hair. Hefting it like a throwing knife, she flung it at Galin. This time the blade found its mark. The hairpin quivered in Galin’s shoulder.

  Galin yanked it out and stared at it. “Poisoned with eitr?”

  “Now you die,” said Sigre, her eyes wild. “As you should.”

  “I am the King of the Hel. Eitr cannot hurt me.” His deep voice boomed over the room. “You’ll need more than that to keep me down.”

  “You died twice,” said Sigre. “You no longer have the right to rule the High Elves. You are an abomination, and you will not have our throne.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Galin’s voice was ice. “You’re concerned about who sits on the High Elf throne?”

  “You wish to steal it back,” said Sigre, though she now sounded less sure of herself. “You abdicated the throne when you fell into the Well of Wyrd. The rightful claim now lies with the house of Scylfing.”

  “The Scylfings?” Galin spat. “Is that who rules the High Elves now?”

  She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Then they deserve you.”

  Sigre stared, caught completely off guard. “What?”

  Galin straightened. “The High Elves chose poorly.”

  At Galin’s feet, Prince Harald stirred. “Is the abomination dead?”

  “Unfortunately for you, I am very much alive.” Galin peered down at him. “Do not try to kill me again. Understood?”

  The prince made a groaning noise.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Sigre glared at Galin, but she didn’t speak.

  “Are you quite finished?” I asked. “We are, after all, here to discuss the draugr.”

  Galin cut me a sharp look. “Assuming there are no more attempts on my life.”

  “Then let us discuss our plans. You’re working against your lovely queen in secret.” I pinned him with my gaze. “Why, exactly?”

  His dark eyes locked on mine. “As I said privately, I was the one who raised the goddess from the dead. I will not allow the draugr to overrun the realms that I love. I am and always will be a protector of Midgard and the nine realms from the forces of darkness, as I was before Ragnarok. Even if it means defying a goddess.”

  I breathed out, relieved to learn he really wasn’t blindingly loyal to the goddess. “Okay. So as a protector of the nine realms, now would be a great time to fulfill your end of the bargain.” I bit my lip. “But if you return to Hel after defying her, what will she do to you?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I will find a way out.” The shadows drifting around Galin thickened. “Right now, our goal is to defeat the draugr. Let’s stay focused on that.”

  Swegde stepped forward. “All right, sorcerer, then it’s time you started building a wall to keep them out.”

  Galin shook his head. “That won’t work.”

  “Why not?” Bo glared at Galin from his place at the table. “You seemed to have no trouble keeping my people imprisoned for a thousand years.”

  “Draugr are not elves. And besides, Hela has closed the gates to Hel.”

  My stomach flipped. “She what?”

  “She’s shut the gate in the iron wall,” said Galin. “No souls may enter. This is why the dead now roam the lands of the living.”

  “But, why?” I asked.

  “Because she wants to take over the nine realms. She wants to unleash the draugr and shades and rule over a world of the dead. Closing the gates to Hel is her first step. But she plans total domination of all nine realms.”

  I glanced at the writhing tattoos on his chest. “If she can control you, what will stop her from bringing you back to Hel right now? She has the wand, and once she has you, she can just break free from Hel with your help. And she can mind control you or whatever to do it.”

  He shook his head. “Fortunately, her persuasive powers don’t work from this far. And the runes around the iron walls of Hel were inscribed by the gods. They will stop her from breaking out—even with me there. Even with the wand. But she is searching for a way out.”

  A terrible understanding dawned on me. “So if we kill the draugr …”

  “They will not disappear,” said Galin grimly. “And in a war, their numbers will only grow, no matter what you do. The more elves die, the more draugr we have on earth. That’s what it means that the Gates of Hel are closed.”

  “So what can we do?” asked Bo.

  Galin cocked his head. “You can start by not dying.”

  Frustration simmered. “How do you plan to help, then? Can you just spit it out, Galin, so we can get Barthol back?”

  Galin’s expression softened. “We need to visit Mimisbrunnr.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what that is.”

  Candlelight danced in Galin’s eyes. “When Odin was young, before he became the King of Asgard and leader of the gods, he wished to learn all that there was to know. So he traveled to Mimisbrunnr, the Well of Knowledge. Mimir, the well keeper, allowed him to drink from the waters, but only if he gave up his eye. Odin immediately drew a knife and carved out his right eye. This is how he learned more than any man could learn in a thousand lifetimes. This is how he learned of the runes and the rules of magic. This is how he was able to convince the gods to name him as their leader.”

  “I know the story of Odin’s sacrifice,” interrupted Bo. “What is the plan?”

  “Like Odin, I will drink from Mimisbrunnr. The waters of the well will show me how to defeat the draugr.”

  “This is your plan?” I asked. “Drink from a magic well?” Clearly, I was still feeling salty with Galin.

  His dark gaze rooted me in place, taking me apart. “You wanted me to help because of my knowledge of sorcery. And now it seems you don’t trust that same knowledge. Why?”

  Because you are breaking my heart.

  “Because you’re consort to the person who caused all this, and clearly she has influence over you,” I said quietly. “But I suppose we don’t have a lot of options. How do we get there?”

  “Mimisbrunnr is somewhere in Asgard. Unfortunately, I never visited the home of the gods.”

  “So no portal then?” I said.

  Galin shook his head. “We’ll have to go the old way. Over the Bifrost bridge.”

  Swegde looked confused. “The Bifrost was destroyed during Ragnarok.”

  Galin shook his head. “For
the gods it was, but we’re elves. I believe it will still support my weight. I will go alone.”

  I stared at him, certain there was something he wasn’t telling me. Something important, and I didn’t like it. What if he was still working for Hela?

  “No, you won’t go alone,” I said. “This is supposed to be a joint effort. We’ll join you.”

  Shadows seeped into the air around him. “It won’t work. The bridge would never hold that many people. And a large number is more likely to slow us down. You just said you trusted me to solve this problem, didn’t you?”

  “I’ll go with you then,” I barked. As the others began to object, I held up a hand. “That’s final.”

  “Very well,” said Galin. “Ali—the Empress—and I will travel to Jotunfjell. The top of Mount Steton is where we find the Bifrost.”

  Wonderful. It seemed I would be spending some time with my ex—after he’d moved on.

  Chapter 9

  Galin

  Across the room from me, Ali slowly nodded. “Okay. Whatever it takes. We’ll leave in the morning. Swegde, can you organize hiking equipment?”

  Swegde nodded, and my gaze slid back to Ali. I studied her—silver hair pulled up in a ponytail, eyes slightly narrowed. Her outfit was familiar assassin’s garb: leather pants and a black jacket that fit her curves perfectly. Everything was splattered with mud, but she didn’t seem to care. She may have only been Empress for a month, but already she was accustomed to being listened to. She looked strong, powerful. More confident, more poised than I remembered.

  The members of the council listened carefully when she spoke, even the murderous twins. I would have to ask her how they’d been chosen to represent the High Elves; their family was known for castrating their enemies. Still, even with Harald and Sigre in her council, Ali was clearly in charge, a natural leader.

  And in her new role, she had made it quite clear that she’d easily moved on from me.