by S. T. Bende
And, for that matter, would I?
Chapter 2
I USUALLY STUCK TO the main road when I walked home. My aunt, Signy, was obsessed with safety, and I could count on a few cars per minute trekking up the hill from the high school to the entrance of Little Big Bear Forest. Signy really didn’t like me walking alone on the trail that went from our cabin to the school—it was one of countless activities she deemed ‘too risky’ for a light elf in hiding.
But the fact was, the hiking trail was shorter than the main road. It was also prettier, quieter, and didn’t require me to walk through the staging area for the homecoming rally . . . where, in all likelihood, I’d run into Bitch-Face and her butt-kissing minions in all their dance team glory.
So, I’d be taking the trail today.
It only took me three minutes to clear the back of the school and hit the base of the hiking path. Late blooming wildflowers lined the edge of the dirt, and I took mental snapshots of the different species as I scaled the steep base of the hill. Wild rose. Fireweed. Corn lily. Lemon lily. By the time I reached the top of the hill I’d catalogued no fewer than fifteen types of flowers. I’d also been reduced to shallow breathing. The trail may have been shorter than the road, but it was definitely more taxing.
I shifted my focus as I neared the cathedral of pines that was the halfway marker between school and home.
Okay, now on to trees. Douglas fir. Coulter pine—huh, that one looks different. Darker. Maybe because of the drought?
A loud snap from behind sent my pulse into overdrive.
Oh, gods.
My chest clenched as I drew my fists to my face and bent my knees. If I was about to face a human attacker, I could take him. But if it was something else . . .
I whirled around, prepared to punch, kick, or claw my way out of whatever situation I’d landed myself in. But when I saw the massive, grey bobcat perched atop a too-close branch, I dropped my elbows to my knees and doubled over in relief.
“Oh, my gods!” My heart thundered in my ribcage as the cat jumped down from the tree, landed neatly beside me, and sidled to my side with a jubilant purr. “Bob, that is seriously not cool. You have got to stop sneaking up on me.”
Bob nudged my hand with his head. My pulse still pounding, I begrudgingly scratched his ear and wondered for the hundredth time why a fully grown bobcat showed up every time I went into the forest. And also, why he never tried to eat me.
Maybe he was a vegetarian?
“Yeeooowl!”
Bob’s purr morphed to a growl the second the screeching howl pierced the forest. Goosebumps ripped from my forearms as my pulse shot up again.
“What was that?” I whispered.
Bob stepped in front of me while I dropped to a ready position and scanned the trees for threats. But everything seemed completely normal, from the pines to the moss to the angry deer charging through the low-lying ferns.
Wait. What?
With its silver, spiked antlers, beady red eyes, and a set of extended canines I’d never before seen on an herbivore, the animal racing toward me was the bizarro version of the woodland critter I always hoped to see on my walks. Before I knew what was happening, the deer had launched himself over Bob to bear down on me with his freakish fangs. I threw myself out of his path, landing in the dirt with a thud and scrambling to my feet as my attacker slammed into the base of a tree. He shook his head, rose on hoofed feet, and charged at me again.
What the hell is happening?
Bob jumped back up and barreled toward our assailant, knocking the monster off course in a blur of fangs and fury. He yowled, then pulled back with a hiss as the deer sunk those sharp canines into his front leg. Without Bob to restrain him, the beast changed course to fling himself at my ankles. His antler nicked my bone, eliciting a level of pain so excruciating that it made me drop to the ground. He seized the opportunity and leapt on top of my ribcage, driving his head toward my neck. A chill shot up my spine as his goo-covered fangs began to elongate.
The monster was going to eat me.
Bob’s furious growl distracted our attacker long enough for me to grab hold of his antlers, wrench him into a nearby trunk and jump to my feet. I bolted across the dirt with every ounce of strength I could muster.
Then I felt the burn.
“Arugh!” I dropped to my knees as a searing heat pummeled my back. Agony laced the skin between my shoulder blades, the sickening scent of singed flesh punctuated by the intense humming of . . .
Did the deer have a blow torch?
My vision blurred from pain, and the forest shifted from vibrant green to faded black. I blinked back tears that so weren’t invited to this death match, then curled into a ball and rolled on my back to put out the fire.
When the smell of burning skin gave way to a residual char, I pushed myself up and braced for another hit from whatever torch was aimed my way. But the flicker of a fluorescent green flame stopped me cold.
That is no blow torch.
The deer’s jaw popped open a second before a fiery green stream shot from its mouth. The flame landed at my feet, igniting the pine needles on the forest floor in a fierce, green bonfire that created a firewall between me and Bob.
What. The. Actual. Helheim?
I jumped behind a tree, careful not to brush my still-aching back against its rough surface. But the trunk trembled as another fiery blast struck the bark and I dove, quickly rolling out of the path of another shot. The deer had somehow cleared the green firewall and was coming for me—again. If I didn’t outsmart him fast, it’d be lights out.
Think, Aura. How do you kill a fire-breathing beast?
Said beast shot off another fire stream. This one missed my head by inches, landing at the edge of a low-hanging branch and sending its leaves up in blazing green flames.
That’s it!
I raced to the crackling branch and ripped it from the tree. I’d turn my assailant’s weapon around on him—literally fight fire with fire.
Gods, I hoped this worked.
Without dwelling on the consequences of getting even closer to the fire-breather, I charged at the monster and waved the blazing stick in his face. The flame reflected in his wide, red eyes as he tried to run behind a boulder. But Bob, who’d somehow cleared the firewall, intercepted the deer. He pinned him to the ground, allowing me to drive the stick into our attacker’s torso. A growl ripped from the deer’s throat and he turned on me again, firing off a stream that turned my stick to ash. He forced Bob back with a shot that singed the bobcat’s ear, before turning his attention back to me.
Skit.
Weaponless, defenseless, and utterly terrified, I turned my palms out, raised my hands to my face, and waited for imminent incineration.
But as the deer opened his mouth to fire, my palms trembled. Vibrations rocketed up my arms as a blinding white light shot from my hands. The light engulfed my attacker in a shimmering orb that somehow contained not only the monster, but also the stream of fire now shooting from his mouth. My palms shook harder, and in one inexplicable surge the orb imploded, destroying the fire, the deer, and any concept I had of my own sanity.
As black ash rained down on the forest, I raised my shaking hands and blinked at their now-shimmering skin.
What the hell just happened?
Bob limped to my side, using his slightly charred head to push me in the direction of home. I stumbled beneath the canopy of still-falling ash. A thousand questions filled my head, ranging from what was that thing? to when did I get laser hands? But Bob’s urgent growl kept me moving forward. By the time I reached the little cabin I shared with Signy, my brain was a fog of confusion.
Bob started to slip back into the woods, just like he always did when we reached our property line. Before he could slink off, I dropped to a knee and held out my hand.
“You okay?”
Bob stepped closer, allowing me to examine the still-smoking fur on his ear, the bloodied gash on his leg, and the tar-like goo coating
his back. Bizarro deer had gotten him good.
“Let me go inside and get some things to clean you up. It’ll only take a minute, and—hey!”
Bob’s thick skull bumped against my chest. He pushed so hard that I nearly fell backward.
“Don’t you want me to help you?” I asked.
Bob chuffed, nudged me again, then disappeared into the tapestry of greens.
“Fine!” I called after him. “But if you need anything, you know where . . .”
I didn’t finish. Bob never had trouble tracking me down. He’d come and get me if his injuries got worse.
I hope.
With a shaky breath, I made my way across the dirt and onto my porch. I wrenched open the kitchen door to find Signy leaning over a nearly frosted birthday cake. Flour dusted her brown pixie cut, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she piped icing along the confection’s edge.
“Nearly done,” she sing-songed. “And . . . ferdig! Happy birthday, my sweet, beautiful Aura. I can’t believe it’s been sixteen years since your mother promoted me from best friend to honorary aunt.” She looked up with a tearful smile. “If she and your father were still alive, they’d be so proud of the intelligent young woman you’ve . . .”
The smile slid off her face as she registered my torn shirt, muddied jeans, and the faint trickle of blood along my arm.
“My gods, what happened to you?”
“Why can my hands shoot light beams?” I blurted.
Signy’s freckled face paled. “What?”
“My hands,” I said shakily. “They shot light beams and destroyed the deer who tried to kill me with his fire mouth. What the Helheim, Signy? Am I going insane?”
Signy dropped the icing and rushed to the kitchen window. As she peered outside, she fired questions over her shoulder.
“The deer, did it have silver antlers?”
“Yes, but—”
“And was the fire green?”
“Yeah, and it—”
“And your light beams.” Signy finally turned around. “Is that the only power you developed today, or did the others manifest simultaneously?”
“It’s the only power that—wait, what? My powers aren’t supposed to show up until I’m eighteen! I have two more years!”
“That’s what I thought, but . . . they must have come early because you’re—” Signy’s hands flew to her mouth.
“What? Because I’m what?”
Instead of answering my question, Signy crossed to the freezer and retrieved an ice pack. She pressed it lightly against my back before running from the room.
“Hold that to your wound,” she called from somewhere down the hallway. “And don’t leave the kitchen!”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I muttered. Then, slightly louder, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Signy backed into the kitchen, her arm at eye-level. It took me a minute to register the now-familiar—but still completely crazy—white beam shooting from her palm. It coated the tiny living room in its shimmering light, encasing the space in an orb that quickly shrunk to the size of a golf ball. Signy directed the ball into a tiny case she held in her other hand, and when I looked back at the living room all of our furniture, books, and blankets had disappeared.
My gods. Signy was using her magic. I’d never seen her do that before. This meant things were bad. Really bad.
Also, my white light was . . . magic? I had magic now?
Breathe, Aura. Just breathe.
Screw breathing.
“Signy, I am about to lose my ever-loving mind so if you don’t fill me in right now I’ll—”
“It’s not safe here anymore.”
Well, obviously.
“Are you too injured to travel?” Signy’s pale green eyes bored into my sky-blue ones. She stroked a loose strand of my hair, and offered a sympathetic smile. “I know your back hurts, but we need to get to the drop site as quickly as possible.”
“Drop site? Signy, what is happening? Where are we—”
“Shh.” Signy typed quickly on her smartwatch. When she’d finished, she opened her palm behind her. “I forgot the kitchen.”
A white beam streamed from her hand, encasing the room in another orb and shrinking its contents into a golf ball which she tucked into her pocket. Then she wrapped both arms around me, held tight, and whispered, “The Bifrost.”
In one dizzying whirl I was pulled from the cabin through what I could only assume was an invisible portal, shot across the forest, and deposited atop Granite Ridge. There, an enormous rainbow tunnel streamed from the sky, positioned to beam us up to gods only knew where.
“Signy!” I raised my voice to be heard above the windstorm whipping off the rainbow. “You’d better start explaining right freaking now.”
“That rainbow is the Bifrost,” Signy said. “We studied it in the Prose Edda, don’t you remember?”
I remembered my aunt reading the Viking bible to me just fine. But never for a minute had I thought I’d actually be traveling by rainbow.
Despite what I’d always told myself, I did not want to be the badass valkyrie from my comic books. I just wanted to go back to being the junior class nerd.
Signy took my hands in hers. “We don’t have much time. Your powers manifested two years early, which means that none of you girls are safe here anymore. We have to evacuate to Alfheim immediately.”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m not ready.”
“Whether you’re ready or not is irrelevant. As your Protektor, it’s my duty to keep you safe. My regiment is sworn to protect not only the realm, but also the crown.”
“The crown? What does that have to do with . . .”
Lead landed hard in my gut. Was Signy saying that I was . . . that my mom had been . . .
“Sweetheart, look at me.” Signy lifted my chin with one finger. “First and foremost, you are my Aura. My family. The girl I would protect with my own life. And if I could keep you here any longer; if I could shelter you from the fight ahead for even just a few more months, I absolutely would. But that thing that attacked you in the woods was a Svartalfheim tracker. The dark elves know that you’re here, and they remain determined to eliminate the crown. With Midgard—Earth—no longer safe, it’s my duty to bring you home.”
“You said ‘the crown,’” I whispered. “Twice.”
“I did.” Signy held my gaze. “You’re more than just my charge, and my best friend’s child. You are Aura Nilssen, the granddaughter of Queen Constance, and the crown princess of Alfheim. And . . .”
“And?” I squeaked.
Signy drew a slow breath. “And it’s time for you to claim your throne.”
Chapter 3
“SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. I’m a princess?” I was a comic-reading, combat-boot-wearing, STEM loving, card carrying nerd girl. There was no world in which this was possible.
Not even one accessible by actual rainbow.
“Yes. But that must remain a secret. Nobody on Alfheim knows your mother had a child—she ran away with your father two years before the Svartalfheim attack, and stayed off-realm throughout her pregnancy. After she was killed, the queen and I decided not to tell anyone who you were—not only for your safety, but to ensure the realm had an heir in case . . .”
In case the queen was assassinated, too.
Like my parents.
“Wouldn’t the barrier keep the queen—uh, my grandmother—safe?” I knew from our Alfheim lessons that around the time I’d been born, the queen had authorized construction on a barrier to keep all off-worlders out of Alfheim. She’d done it in part because my father wasn’t from our realm, and she didn’t think he was good enough for my mom. But she’d also done it in the hopes of keeping her people—and herself—alive, as rumors of an impending dark elf attack grew.
“The barrier should have kept her safe, yes. But once it went up, things on Alfheim got very dark. The Kongelig took control of the queen’s cabinet, and convinced many of our citizens to fear thos
e who were different. Internal conflicts flourished, which meant the queen’s safety was no longer guaranteed—not even from her own citizens.”
Gods. What kind of backwards planet was Signy taking me to?
Pop!
I jumped at the loud burst from the other side of the rainbow tunnel. “What was that?”
“Oh, good.” Signy released my hands to wave across the Bifrost. “The others are here. We can leave.”
Right. Others.
Must keep princess-hood a secret. Must not disclose I’m descended from a bigot. Must not—
“Larkin, Elin,” Signy called. “Hurry—we need to go as quickly as possible.”
Liquid relief coursed through my veins. I may have been fleeing to a world run by zealots, but at least I’d have my best friend at my side.
Elin charged around the rainbow to envelop me in a fierce hug. Her ombre-blonde hair whipped around my shoulders, the blue tips a perfect complement to the late-afternoon sky. “We get to move to another planet today,” she squeaked. “This is so freaking cool!”
“Not the sentiment I was going with.”
“How do you not think this is cool?” Elin pulled away with wide eyes. “It’s straight out of a movie!”
“Yeah . . . a horror movie.” I warily eyed the Bifrost of Terror.
“Or a super cool adventure movie,” Elin countered.
“Hi, Aura.” Elin’s mom and Protektor, Larkin, approached from behind with a tight smile.
“Hey,” I offered. “So, I guess it’s time.”
“Are you holding up oka—”
Another pop interrupted Larkin’s question.
“You dragged me away from the rally to get inside of that? Oh, hell, no. Absolutely not. I am not going anywhere near that thing. Not when homecoming’s this freaking weekend, and everyone knows the dance captain’s a shoo-in to win Queen.”
Oh, gods. I’d know that high-pitched, nasal voice anywhere.
I whirled around to face Elin. “If Britney wants to stay, we should really let her stay.”
