Shadow Empress
C.N. Crawford
Corey Press Inc
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
43. The Fallen
44. Also by C.N. Crawford
Chapter 1
Ali
I crouched at the forest’s edge, my attention focused outward, away from the reassuring darkness. I was scanning Vanaheim’s great plains, looking for the return of my men in my new kingdom. I’d sent three out on a scouting party to the west. Now, as the shadows grew longer and the sky tinged with red, my stomach clenched. Something had gone wrong.
Swegde, the former Regent of the Vanir, crouched next to me. He wore buckskin trousers and a black vest that exposed thick, muscular forearms. His dark hair draped over enormous shoulders. Of course, he was armed to the teeth. A short sword on one hip, a hunting knife strapped to the other, and slung over his back a bow and quiver full of arrows. He was ready for anything—and anything could happen.
“Where are they?” I asked. “They said noon, it’s nearly sundown. They should be back by now.”
He glanced at me for just a second. “Don’t worry about them. Worry about your knife-throwing skills. Practice in your mind.”
I sighed. “We’ve been practicing nonstop, Swegde. I think I’m good.”
“We will be moving on to bear wrestling soon. As Empress of the Vanaheim, you must be skilled at bear wrestling. Focus on that.”
My forehead wrinkled. “But—why?”
“It’s a Vanir custom. We’ve been over this. You killed the Emperor, now you must fill his role. Wrestling bears is part of that. Don’t question it.”
I leaned against an oak trunk. Usually, I liked it here in the shadows. The forest reminded me of the Shadow Caverns, the caves where I’d spent my childhood. The massive oaks formed a canopy so thick it nearly blocked out the sun, and the air hung still and heavy with the scent of ferns.
I walked every day among the ancient trees—collecting the little golden chanterelles that grew on rotting stumps, listening to the sounds of tiny animals scurrying unseen in the gloom. I searched the dark places for pixies and fairies.
Here, I felt at home. Almost at ease.
Almost, but not quite.
Because always, I carried a sharp gnawing emptiness—the hole that Galin had left when he disappeared.
I pushed the memory of him deep under the surface, trying not to let myself feel that pain. It was a pain that shouldn’t exist, anyway. I’d severed our mating bond. There was no reason for me to feel anything at all.
Swegde had drilled into my head that as Empress, you had to separate your emotions from the business of ruling. He wasn’t wrong about that. What good would it do to pine over someone? None at all.
Beyond the trees, wind rippled the tall grasses like waves on an ocean. Birds flew in and out of the blowing fronds, collecting stems and leaves to build their nests. Great herds of bison and horses grazed in the distance. While I loved the dark comfort of the forest, the Vanir loved the grasslands. The fields provided food for our herds of cattle and horses, a place to run and ride.
But when I walked in them, I only felt exposed, like some massive eagle might swoop down at any moment and carry me away. Even now I could see a kettle of vultures circling in the late afternoon sun. Creepy as Hel.
They were growing more numerous, revolving in an ever-widening gyre of black wings.
“Those are vultures, right?” I said. “Do you think there’s something dead out there?”
Swegde nodded. “One of the horses, most likely. They break their legs in prairie dog holes.”
I stared at the vultures as they glided in great circles, round and round, their movements almost hypnotic. More of them now than even a few seconds ago.
“Are there usually this many?”
“No—” Swegde began, but I held up a finger, cutting him off. I’d heard a noise.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?” he whispered.
I heard it again. The sky was blue as a robin’s egg, but it sounded like thunder.
Swegde frowned, even as I squinted, staring across the plain, past the waving grass, to a dark shadow on the horizon. The hair on my arms stiffened. It hadn’t been there last time I’d looked.
“Do you see it? There’s something out there.”
Swegde’s eyes followed the path of my finger. “You’re right. Looks like a herd of buffalo.”
The sound grew louder, like thunder, but more guttural. “Is that what buffalo sound like?” I asked.
Swegde stared fixedly at the blotch of darkness, growing larger and closer.
“The scouting party are on horseback, right?” Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it wasn’t them. I’d only sent out three men, and this looked like a whole battalion.
Swegde nodded. “Yes, but that’s not what we’re looking at.” He was squinting hard, his lips pressed together.
“So, Buffalo?” I asked, trying to prompt Swegde to elaborate.
“No …” Swegde said slowly. “Buffalo don’t move like that. It’s men …”
I stared hard this time, trying to bring whatever it was into focus. Still too far. Then I heard the sound again, a great guttural cry, and fear caught my breath.
I knew exactly what I was looking at. It was men, all right—just not living ones. Barreling towards us was a great horde of draugr.
“Look.” Swegde pointed to a speck, just in front of the charging undead.
The fear became ice in my veins. In front of the horde was a lone elf, running at a dead-out sprint.
“It’s him,” I said, jumping up. “We have to help.”
I called Skalei to me, and charged into the plain.
I could hear the draugr calling now, their raspy voices in a full hunting chorus. In front of them raced the elf, hood over his head, cloak flying out behind him. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew exactly who he was. And I had to get to him.
The draugr barreled after him, ravenous. Even as I ran towards him, I could tell that he wouldn’t make it. The undead were simply too fast, too untiring. I had to do something.
Still sprinting, I drew Levateinn, Loki’s wand. A weapon of the gods. Gripping it tightly, I tried to scribe a portal spell, but I was also running dead out. I missed a downward stroke and the spell sputtered, nothing more than a crackling burst of sparks. Balls.
I looked to the running elf. The draugr were almost upon him. I had to focus. Focusing was the only way I was going to save him.
Heart hammering,
I skidded to a stop, then traced the spell precisely. My chest unclenched a little as a portal appeared in front of me. I leapt through.
I appeared a few feet in front of the elf I knew so well—and a few hundred feet in front of the draugr.
“Keep going!” I shouted, catching his eye. “I’ll hold them off.”
The draugr were bearing down on me, an army of the dead. I could hear their cries, smell the stench of their rotting bodies. If they got to me, they’d tear me to pieces. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
Holding Levateinn in front of me like a sword, I planted my feet. Focusing, I slashed the shape of the rune kaun. I felt power build in the wand, and then a great gout of flame burst forth. The draugr’s hunting cries turned to rasping screams as the fire tore into them. Their bodies blazed for a few moments, then burst like rancid fireworks.
But this horde was massive—more draugr than I’d ever seen in my life.
Standing before them, I kept scribing kaun, blasting any that came too close.
Swegde was shouting behind me. Moments later, flaming arrows began to trace the sky above my head as he fired into the horde. The fiery bolts ignited their dry and sinewy bodies. The monsters slowed as explosions rippled through their ranks.
“It’s working!” I shouted.
I wielded Levateinn like a flamethrower, burning the draugr where they stood. They were calling to one another now, croaking shouts as they began retreating. I smiled. Even in their guttural voices, I heard fear.
Slowly they began to pick up speed, lumbering back into the vastness of the plains. I raced after them, burning any stragglers. A protective fury ignited my body, and the air smelled of smoke and death.
When I finally paused to catch my breath, the sun had set. Fires burned around me, and injured draugr moaned as vultures picked their bones. Warm light from their burning bodies danced over charred grasses.
A hand touched my shoulder.
“Ali, they’re routed,” said Swegde, his eyes gleaming in the darkness.
“Where did they come from?” I asked.
“The important thing is you defeated them, you were brilliant.”
“They’re still out there.”
He stared into the distance. “We’ll send riders to kill off the rest of them in the morning. You need to get back to the temple.”
“Where is he?”
Swegde pointed behind me, to a cloaked figure couched in the grass. Forgetting my exhaustion, I ran to him.
“Ali?” his familiar voice warmed my chest.
Before I could yank his hood off myself, Barthol had wrapped me in one of his signature bear hugs.
“You’re okay?” I asked. “Not hurt?”
“I’m fine. A bit tired though.” Barthol tried to smile, but I could still see terror in his eyes. “I’m not used to running under the sun.”
I looked at Barthol’s outfit, heavy leather pants, a black cloak, and underneath—I frowned—his cave bear jacket. I was going to have to speak to him about the importance of function over style in a world with the sun.
“What happened to the other two scouts?” I asked.
He flinched. “Dead. Draugr ambushed us this morning.”
“Oh my gods.”
Barthol’s eyes had gone unfocused, clearly reliving something terrible. I hugged him hard.
“It was awful, Ali. Awful …” My brother’s arms tightened around me, and he rested his head on my shoulder for just a moment.
As I pulled away from him, I was already mentally reviewing his assignment, burying my emotional reaction. Just like Swegde taught me.
Swegde cleared his throat. “Tell us what you learned about the draugr.” By his abrupt tone, it was clear he thought we did not have time for Barthol’s emotions. “Are they the ones who were stealing our cattle?”
Barthol tried to school his features into something manly. “The draugr are everywhere in the west.”
“How many?” Swegde barked.
“Thousands upon thousands. In some places the plains are nearly black with their bodies. Vultures everywhere … the smell …” He shuddered visibly.
“Oh gods,” said Swegde under his breath. “You saw this with your eyes?”
Barthol nodded.
“Where did they come from?” I asked.
Barthol shook his head. “No idea. They just stretched back to the horizon. There were so many … There was no way to pass through them to find out.”
“So just the western plains?” Swegde asked hopefully.
Barthol’s expression looked pained. “No, they’re on the move. Headed this way. I think we have a week at best before they’re at the gates of Vanaheim.”
Swegde paled. “I need to warn the tribes.” He paused, looking to me for permission.
“Yes, of course, Swegde,” I said. “Go ahead. I’m going to walk back with Barthol. I’ve got the wand to protect us.”
Swegde nodded. “All right, Ali. I’ll see you in the temple in an hour.”
“Can you organize a meeting of the council?”
“Of course.”
As Swegde hurried off into the night, I turned back to Barthol. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine. I was able to escape, when—” Barthol grimaced. “When the draugr were eating. I’m fine. Just really tired.” He faltered, and I caught him by the elbow, helping him balance.
“Take your time, brother.”
We walked in silence for a while along the edge of the forest, the stars gleaming above us. It was a perfectly clear night, and I could see the Milky Way, the thousands upon thousands of stars that still felt so new and alien.
“Did you ever think you’d be walking under the stars like this?” I asked.
Barthol shook his head, half smiling. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Did you know they have names?” I continued, keeping the subject away from draugr. “That group of stars over there, it’s called Aurvandil's Toe, and that one there is Karlvagn, the soldier’s chariot.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Swegde told me.”
Barthol’s eyebrows flicked up, and he grinned knowingly. “Swegde? Is he your boyfriend?”
I rolled my eyes. “Definitely not.”
Barthol’s grin spread wider. “But have you seen his arms? They’re like tree trunks.”
“No brother, he’s just a close advisor. He was the Regent, he knows the most about the Vanir.”
“You should see how he looks at you, when he goes on about bear wrestling.”
“Barthol!” I said sharply. I wasn’t in the mood. “I’m the Empress now. Boyfriends aren’t a thing, and I don’t think of Swegde that way.”
I thought of what the Norn had told me: Your duty is bigger than you are. There are great snarls in the Wyrd for you to untangle; both your peoples need your full attention if they are to survive.
“So you’re still thinking of him, aren’t you?” asked Barthol.
“Galin? Of course not,” I lied. “The Norn broke the soul bond, at my request. Because that’s not real love, is it? It’s just magic.” My chest felt tight, breathless.
What I didn’t tell him was that when I severed the mating bond, I’d hoped we’d get to know each other in a normal way. Not that we’d never see each other again. I’d never meant for this to happen.
“Do you really think he survived?” asked Barthol quietly.
“He’s Galin. He’s definitely alive.” It came out sounding too sharp, angry. “I checked the bottom of the Well of Wyrd myself, there was no body—” For some annoying reason my voice decided to crack as I said body.
“Or that giant squirrel you told me about carried him off and ate him.” Barthol’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Ali, I think he’s gone. If he wanted to speak to you, he’d find a way to communicate. He of all people could do that.”
I didn’t reply. My chest ached sharply. The constellations no longer seemed interesting; the night had bec
ome almost oppressive.
Maybe Barthol was right. I had to believe he was still alive, but maybe he didn’t want to see me. He was the most powerful sorcerer the world had ever known. If he wanted to get a message to me, he would’ve found a way by now.
Chapter 2
Galin
From my throne, I stared out into the vastness of Hela’s dark hall. In ancient alcoves, votive candles cast wavering light over the flagstone floor and columns.
Just as I had done a minute ago, just as I had done an hour earlier, just as I had done the day before. I was familiar with every broken stone, every chipped column, every pile of dust and bone. The only thing that changed was the position of the shades. Sometimes there were hundreds floating around, other times only a few, but never were there none.
I closed my eyes, ready to ascend to the astral plane. This was my only escape from this world. In the astral realm, I could scan the souls of the living. When I first arrived in Hel, I’d visited the plane every hour. I had one purpose then, to check on Ali’s soul, to make sure she was safe.
In those early days here, I’d felt broken. I’d been king of the High Elves, ready to lead them to a better world. I’d had a mate I loved, a beautiful Night Elf with eyes that shone like molten silver.
And in just a matter of hours, I’d lost it all.
My mate had broken the bond. My sister had stabbed me, sending me into the Well of Wyrd.
If it weren’t for Hela, the Goddess of Death, I’d be dead.
Shadow Empress (Night Elves Trilogy Book 3) Page 1
