The Elven king leaned forward in his saddle, staring past Phoenix at Jade. His expression tightened to something close to dismay. Phoenix felt his heartrate jump. What if he thought they’d killed Jade, a half-elf? They stood no chance at all against twenty well-armed Elves.
Without warning, the Elven king swung down off his mount. His followers exchanged startled, wary glances. Phoenix and Marcus moved to protect their fallen comrade but the king raised one thin eyebrow at them and stared until they edged aside. He knelt gracefully beside Jade, his frown deepening as he brushed hair from her face.
“What colour were her eyes?”
Phoenix stared at him blankly. The question was so unexpected he didn’t know what to say. The king stood swiftly, towering over him, his expression bleak.
“Green, sir,” Marcus put in quietly, coming to his rescue.
At this, the king’s already-pale face turned ashen. He closed his eyes briefly, glanced back down at Jade then drew himself up, his face once more cold and haughty.
“If you have called us to save her from death then we are too late.” With a swirl of his cloak, he turned away and placed a foot in the stirrup, preparing to mount.
“No!” Phoenix called. “We called for aid in destroying a troll.”
The Elven leader paused for a second, considering. He shook his head. “We are not interested in hunting trolls. Farewell.”
“But this troll killed the Svear king and many of his people,” Phoenix said urgently, “and it did this to Jade.” He couldn’t explain why he’d said it; he just hoped the Elves would want to be revenged on whoever killed their kin. He was right.
A frightening sternness came over the king’s narrow face. His dark eyes blazed with anger. In one smooth movement, he swung onto his horse and gathered the reins. Rapidly, he spoke over his shoulder in Elvish. Half of his troupe nodded, smiled with devilish delight and spurred their steeds toward the distant sounds of troll-wrought destruction. Their horses’ hooves made no sound as they skimmed above the earth. The dogs followed, baying again.
Phoenix, Marcus and the rest of the Elves stood frozen, listening. Moments later came the satisfying sound of trollish frustration and the spine-tingling laughter of Elves on the hunt. The two warriors gaped as ten Elven hunters appeared above the forest. Bound in a dozen slender, silvery ropes; dangling between the horses and dogs, threshed the roaring shape of Grendel’s mother. Still laughing, the Elves galloped overhead, out across the lake, heading east. As the grinding sound of the troll’s anger faded, Phoenix managed to shut his jaw and turn back to the Elven king. The Elf gazed down at him with faint humour. He inclined his head regally.
“It is done. The troll will be carried into the morning sun then dropped into the sea. Now may we go?” His question was tinged with irony.
Phoenix flushed. Obviously his little ploy to involve the Elves by appealing to their desire for revenge had not gone unnoticed. Plucking up his courage, he managed one more request.
“We need to get to Uppsala, quickly. Can you help us?”
The king frowned again, his slanted brows snapping together. “What of your fallen companion? Is she worth no more than a cold grave above ground? Will you not bury her with dignity?”
Phoenix took a deep breath. Here was the crucial moment. Would the king be angry when he found out Jade might not be permanently dead?
“I believe she can be returned to us, good sir, if you will give us further aid this night. Will you?”
“Returned to you!” The Elven king’s face showed quick series of emotions that baffled Phoenix: anger, disbelief then finally hope. “By what manner of magic can you, a mortal, restore life?” He asked haughtily.
“She and I are...unique... in this world, my lord,” he searched for the right words. “I can only say that I believe she will recover if given a chance. It’s worth a try.”
“A non-answer if ever I heard one, warrior.” The king was not deceived. “However, we all have our secrets, do we not?” He glanced one more time at Jade’s still face. “Very well. We shall take you to Álfheimr.” He paused for a moment, staring over Phoenix’s shoulder at the forest behind. A thin smile pulled at his lips. “Shall we also take the little godling who lurks among the trees, watching? She would appear to be far from home.”
Phoenix and Marcus sighed in unison and turned around.
“Truda!” Phoenix yelled. “You can come out now!”
There was a moment of silence, and then two small figures stepped out from the shrubbery. In front strode Truda, proud as any princess. Behind her, looking sheepish, came Brynn. He led their pack horses and cast awed glances at the glowing Elven host. When they were close enough, Truda exchanged stately nods with the king, who luckily chose not to take offence. Brynn bowed deeply and received a scornful glance from his young companion.
“How did you get here?” Phoenix demanded. “I wanted you two safe outside the village.”
“That messenger didn’t want to miss out on the fight,” Brynn was breathless. “He led us here. What were we supposed to do?” He spread his hands, giving his best innocent look. Phoenix didn’t believe him for a moment but whatever he’d intended to say was cut short when the boy caught sight of Jade’s body. Brynn gasped in horror, his eyes wide. He dropped the reins and threw himself over her with a wail of despair. He grabbed her slim shoulders and shook her.
“Jade! Jade! Wake up!” When she didn’t, he buried his face in her neck and sobbed.
Truda stood by, looking troubled. Marcus hurried over to Brynn, dragging the boy aside, murmuring explanations and reassurance into his ear. Slowly, Brynn’s tears dried. He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve.
“Do you really think....?” He cast hopeful glances between Phoenix, Marcus and the Elven king.
“I’m hoping we can bring her back,” Phoenix said for at least the third time – and hopefully the last, “but I think we need to do it fast, or she may be gone forever.” Truthfully, he had no idea if this was right but he was getting pretty tired of explaining and he wanted to get moving. Each time he thought about Jade, he had to suppress the fear that he might be wrong; that she was already gone forever.
Even if she weren’t then it was time to move on. The troll was gone. They’d done their duty by the village. Now they needed to get on with their own quest before Zhudai found them or something else nasty decided to get in their way.
Glancing up at the Elven king’s cold, aloof eyes, Phoenix wondered briefly if they hadn’t jumped into the proverbial fire. The Elves didn’t exactly look thrilled to be taking on passengers.
*****
Drifting in and out of sleep, Long Baiyu felt death like a hot needle in his mind. He awoke with a groan, eyes wide in the darkness of his cell. Cautiously, he cast his thoughts out. He needed help again. In her between-life state, she could be reached...taught...helped without Zhudai’s knowledge. He couldn’t risk reaching that far again himself. Zhudai had sealed the breach in his mental shields. There was one, however, who could again be of assistance.......
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jade swam slowly up from great depths; shying away from the memory of shattering pain; of utter blackness; of nothingness; into a familiar, grey world of shifting fogs and whispered, half-heard voices. Unafraid, she drifted for what seemed like eternity in this limbo; chasing voices, peering into the mists; wondering how to find her way home.
At last, a voice murmured her name clearly. A vaguely familiar voice: kind, tired and patient. She turned toward it eagerly, hoping to see a face but found only more fog. The voice called again, whispering reassurances at first; then instructions. Information she’d never read about this game-world: what the next three ‘quests’ entailed; what countries they would encounter; a basic idea of what they needed to do in each.
The voice faded eventually; getting fainter and more exhausted until it stopped altogether. Jade called out, hoping to find out more but to no avail. She was once again alone in limbo, trying des
perately to remember everything she’d heard.
Now, a different voice called. One she recognised but couldn’t put a name to. Puzzled, she turned toward it. Drawn by a green-gold glow, she floated reluctantly out of suspension and back to life.
With a gasp, Jade sat up, blinking in the light. She felt her body, patting it to make sure she had all her arms and legs, her head, her face. Everything felt ok. Tentatively, she rotated her shoulders, expecting pain. After all, her last memory had been of a massive troll fist crashing into her frail body. Nothing seemed amiss. Everything appeared to be functioning fine. How strange.
“Jade?” Another familiar voice drew her attention. This one she could name. Phoenix knelt beside her bed, looking both anxious and thankful. Behind him stood Marcus, his normally-solemn expression one of glad relief. Next to him, Brynn clutched at Phoenix’s shoulder with wide-eyed disbelief. Suddenly, the boy threw himself into Jade’s arms.
“I thought you were dead,” he howled. “Don’t ever do that again! I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Jade patted his thin back, wondering how to remind him it was probably going to happen at least another five times - if she couldn’t avoid it. Finally, his sobs subsided and he moved away, wiping his grubby face with an equally grubby sleeve.
“Where are we?” she asked, bemused.
She was in some sort of bedroom that much was obvious. It was a room unlike any she’d ever seen. The walls were some sort of pale, almost translucent white stone – the blocks fitted so smoothly that she could barely see the joins. The bed on which she lay was an enormous, canopied affair that dripped velvet curtains and gold tassels. All around were exotically designed pieces of furniture ornamented with plant designs picked out in gold leaf. Through a huge, arched window, she could only see darkness and faint stars.
“We’re in Alfheim,” Phoenix replied. “The Elves only just let us in to see you.”
“Alfheim.....” she frowned, trying to connect the dots. “Oh! ‘Elf-home’, the home of the elves in Norse mythology. How did we get here?”
Swiftly, Phoenix told of the arrival of the Elven Wild Hunt; the destruction of the troll; his plea to the Elven king. Jade stared at him with amazement. Asking Elves for anything was either impressively brave or astonishingly ignorant. They were known to be tricksy, fickle folk when dealing with mortals. She was pretty sure Phoenix’d been oblivious to the danger, although she had to admit that he’d shown a fair amount of bravery in the last couple of weeks.
When he finished, she frowned. “So how did we get to Alfheim then?”
The others exchanged glances, all three looking a little paler.
“The king gave our horses the ability to fly – temporarily, I hope,” Phoenix added with a shudder. “We travelled over what he called ‘Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge’ – kind of a solid rainbow into the sky then....somewhere else. Here, I guess.” He shook himself again as if to be rid of a bad memory. “Honestly, I hope we never have to do it again. It was....a long, long way up and there were no handrails.”
“Terrifying,” Brynn put in, shivering.
“Most unpleasant, I must admit,” Marcus agreed.
“Oh, yes,” Jade recalled what she knew of Norse mythology. “Bifrost connects Midgard to Asgard. I didn’t know it went to Alfheim, too.”
“I thought we had to go down the roots of that tree Truda told us about: Igdrizzle or whatever,” Brynn complained.
“Yggdrasil,” Jade corrected. “Yeah, that’s the other way to get here. I guess this was easier.”
“Debatable,” Phoenix muttered.
Jade chose not to dignify that with an answer. She had something more important on her mind. “Where’s Truda?”
“She’s with the king and his court, why?” Phoenix was puzzled.
“Don’t you understand?”
The others shook their heads.
“I’ve just remembered. The world of Alfheim is on the same level as Asgard, under the roots of the Yggdrasil tree. From here, we should be able to get across to Asgard!” Jade fidgeted with excitement as she recalled soft words whispered while she floated in limbo. They were finally nearing the end of Level Two. “Don’t you see? All we have to do is get there, return Truda to Thor before her birthday and .....steal...his...” Her words ground to a halt as she met Phoenix’s sceptical gaze. “Yes, I suppose we’re not really that much better off, are we? Stealing the hammer was always going to be the hardest part.” Sighing, she slumped back on her pillows as exhaustion swept over her.
Marcus leaned in, concerned. “You probably should rest.”
Phoenix nodded and quirked a knowing grin at her. “Being dead sure takes it out of you, doesn’t it?”
Jade smiled a little. “Speaking of being dead, where’s my knife?” Silently, Marcus handed her, her belt knife. She inspected the handle. Sure enough, one of the rubies was blackened and cracked through the middle. Only six left. Scary.
Phoenix grinned again. “An old friend of yours gave us some help. She and her ladies have been looking after you.” He glanced at the door. It opened and a familiar figure entered.
She sat up, surprised. “Aurfanon!”
Sure enough, the golden Queen of the dryads glided gracefully toward the bed. Phoenix and the others withdrew a little, leaving her space to sit beside Jade. The queen sank onto the mattress with hardly a sigh of her fine linen dress. She smiled, the corners of her amber eyes crinkling pleasantly. Reaching out, she placed a cool hand on Jade’s forehead.
“You are well, child?” Her voice was a whisper of wind through autumn leaves.
Jade nodded. “Thank you. How did you get here? You were in Engl...Albion, in Anoeth – the Timeless Land of the Elven folk there. How can you be here, so far from your oak tree?” As far as she knew, dryads were tied to their trees. Surely Sweden was too far away for Aurfanon to travel.
The Queen smiled again. “Silly child. The Anoeth is not like the mortal world. It is everywhere at once. What is Alfheim to the Svear people, is Anoeth to the Bretons. My tree is here, too. When the king told me of your need, of course I came.”
“Th…thankyou, your majesty,” Jade stuttered, humbled. “I don’t know why you’re being so kind to me. I’m nobody to you or the king.”
Aurfanon sent her a sidelong glance beneath long lashes. She smiled a secret little smile, shook her head and patted Jade’s hand. “When you are better, you must come to the dining hall and meet his majesty.” Standing, she swept the others with a cool look. “Your companions will dine here.”
“But…” Jade protested.
“I’m sorry but mortals are forbidden to enter Vídbláinn, the king’s own hall,” Aurfanon said firmly. “Your companions will await your return. That is the king’s will.” With that, the golden queen swept out of the room, leaving the four companions speechless.
After a few moments, Phoenix turned to Jade with an ironic smile, his arms folded.
“So you get VIP status again, huh. Happy?”
Jade glowered at him. “Don’t be mean. I didn’t ask her to do that.”
“No but you sure didn’t argue much,” he pointed out. “Well, I’m sure you’ll love getting the royal treatment again. We’ll just wait for you here, shall we?”
She felt hot tears of hurt and injustice sting her eyes. She turned her back and closed her eyes. “Just go away, Phoenix. I’m tired.” She heard heavy footsteps. A door slammed but not before Phoenix’s angry words reached her.
“Man, she can be such a princess sometimes.”
For a long time, Jade stayed curled up, shaking and struggling to hold back tears. She thought she’d found real friends in Phoenix, Marcus and Brynn. Now Phoenix was treating her just like her sisters did – trying to make her feel worthless. First on the cliff, now here. Why? Why did he do it? She didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t fair.
She sat up, thrusting the heavy covers aside. It didn’t matter. At home she might be the least-loved daughter of a huge family but here she was
something special. She wasn’t going to lie around in bed feeling miserable. It was time to go meet the Elven king. Phoenix could just get stuffed.
She slipped out of bed. The floor was stone but pleasantly warm to her bare feet. Looking down, she realized she wore only a thin woolen shift. Smiling, she reached for her pack and withdrew the beautiful green dress Ásúlfr had given her.
A few moments later, dressed as ready as she’d ever be, Jade swallowed heavily and opened the door to her room. Outside, with her hand poised in mid-knock, stood Truda. She wore the blue dress that matched Jade’s. The god-child smiled brightly up at Jade, her head cocked to one side.
“You’re all better! Good.” She grabbed her hand and tugged on it. “Come on, I’m supposed to take you to the hall. It’s really nice. I haven’t been here before.” On she went, chattering like a magpie about the wonders of Alfheim and her joy at being so close to home again. The child seemed certain she would be back with her family very soon, although she obviously had no idea how to get to Asgard from Alfheim.
With a laugh, Jade followed her down several confusing, white corridors. In the distance, sounds of revelry swelled. Soon, she saw a warm, golden glow streaming through an arched entrance. The sound of gentle laughter and breathy flute music came with it.
Jade stopped at the doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust a little. Truda dropped her hand and skipped straight in, leaving her alone. She fought the urge to run away. What if the Elves hated her? What if the king himself banished her from his hall in disgust at seeing a mere half-elf. She had no idea what attitude full Elves took toward half-breeds.
She drew a slow lungful of air, raised her chin and stepped into the room. Stretched out before her was a massive hall made of timber. It wasn’t cut timber but the close-planted trunks of tall trees. The roof was their arching, thickly leaved branches. In the centre of the floor was a circular, bare patch of earth. Surrounding it was a vast area of soft, green moss, out of which poked smooth, grey boulders like seats around a stage. Several beautiful dryad women sat on those rocks, strumming and playing instruments of strange design. The music was soft but eerie – not quite what her human ear was used to.
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