My hair had fallen across my face and I brushed it back. “Why are you being so benevolent?”
Illaria snorted. “That is a good question.”
“First, as a favor to your father, and then because you were useful,” Ragnall answered. “But your usefulness has run out, and I consider any favors to your father repaid.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and crouched down to my eye level.
“I let you up here so I could tell you that it’s over,” he said, his voice firm, cold, emotionless. “I have been looking for a way to cross the bridge and return home for a very, very long time. You had an important role to play, which is why you’re still alive. But your part is done.”
“You can’t cross the bridge,” I warned him. Tuva hit me in the back of my head with the pole, but I had already gritted my teeth, preparing for it. I winced but I didn’t fall forward this time. “There are dragons on the other side, and if you cross the bridge, you’ll unleash them on this world. They will burn it down to the ground.”
He laughed again, but it was completely devoid of any happiness or joy, and it stopped abruptly. As he looked down at me, scratching his eyebrow, he said, “I’m honestly disappointed that you fell for their lies. Until now I thought you were smarter than that.”
I looked over at Illaria. “You know the truth. That the earth can’t withstand the life in your world. That’s what the Grændöden was. Áibmoráigi fell in a matter of minutes. The whole city and all the life within it.”
“I don’t care about this place at all,” Illaria said. “Our mother’s fondness for this stupid blue world was always her greatest downfall.” She walked closer, so she stood just to the side of Ragnall, and sneered down at me. “I’ve been on the other side. I know the Älvolk will be revered like the gods they are when they return to claim what is rightfully theirs.”
“Jem-Kruk and Sumi—” I began, but that’s all that made it out before Tuva hit me in the head again. This time, gritting my teeth wasn’t enough, and I blacked out for a second.
“—not say the name of the heretic and traitors,” Tuva was saying as I blinked.
“It’s dangerous,” I said in a strained voice. “What you’re doing. Lives will be lost.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ulla,” Illaria snapped. “You are just a stupid, spoiled girl.”
“Our time for talking is done.” Ragnall looked to Tuva, and she put the weapon to my throat again, pressing hard enough that I could hear it grinding against my trachea.
Ragnall straightened up, rebuttoning his jacket as he did. “It is over, Ulla. It’s too late to stop any of this, and I have no reason to ever see you again.” He looked down at me. “If I do, I will kill you. I have no more time or patience for these childish games.”
54
Exile
My head throbbed as I ran down the steps. Somewhere, I heard a door slam, and I glanced back over my shoulder. By the time I reached the Inhemsk Project main offices, I was out of breath, but I never slowed.
“Ulla!” Pan jumped up from his desk when I came in. “What happened?”
“Are you okay?” Dagny asked at the same time as Pan.
“Get your stuff.” I leaned over, resting my hands on my thighs, and tried to catch my breath.
“You’re bleeding!” Dagny gasped.
She stepped toward me, like she meant to inspect the wound on the back of my head, and I straightened up to deflect her concern.
“I’m fine, but we gotta go now,” I said more authoritatively. “I’ll explain later. But make sure you grab everything you want to see again. Shit. And Elof. He should come with us.”
“Wait, are we being kicked out?” Dagny asked.
I shook my head and winced at the pain in my skull. “I don’t know.”
Pan, for his part, had been gathering up his stuff, and he came over to join me.
“Well, why else wouldn’t we come back?” she asked.
“Because it’s not safe!” I shouted, in fear and frustration. “Ragnall’s the leader of the Älvolk, Tuva is his daughter, and they’re working with Illaria to cross the bridge.”
Dagny opened her mouth, then thought better of it and went over to shove her laptop in her bag. She got all of her things together in a hurry, and the three of us walked very quickly out of the Mimirin. I glanced back at the ancient building looming behind us, and I wondered if I’d ever see it again.
Pan took my hand, holding it as we walked through the winding streets.
“What are we going to do?” Dagny asked.
“I don’t know. Ragnall said he’d kill me if he saw me again, and he and Illaria are dead set on crossing that bridge,” I said. “I have to get out of Merellä, and we have to warn somebody that has the power to stop this.”
“Well, you’ve got friends in high places,” Dagny said. “Isn’t Hanna’s dad close to the Trylle Queen? And Bryn is the Kanin King’s guard, right?”
When we got to the apartment, the three of us scrambled. Pan took the Jeep back to his place to load up his stuff and find pet care for Brueger, and Dagny took the landline first to call Elof. While she did that, I raced up to my loft to grab all the stuff that mattered most to me.
As Dagny candidly told Elof about the situation, I worried that Ragnall might be listening. But then I remembered the Ögonen were probably reading our minds, so it didn’t matter. I had to assume that everything we said and did inside the walls of the citadel, Ragnall and the Älvolk knew about.
I wondered if Mästare Amalie knew the truth. Or had she been duped by Ragnall like the rest of us? It didn’t really matter right now, I supposed. There were far worse things to worry about.
Pan returned about five minutes before Elof showed up. Elof had only brought along a laptop and a satchel bag with some clothes.
“Elof, we’re not coming back,” Dagny reminded him as she forced her steamer trunk suitcase closed. When she finished, she carefully set her bow and arrows, safely stored in a leather quiver, on top.
“I’ve got what I need,” Elof assured her, and patted his satchel. “Everything else is replaceable.”
“Did you know that Ragnall was the Älvolk chieftain?” Pan asked him.
Elof shook his head. “No. I never had any indication. But he didn’t interact much with me either. He seemed to have disdain for troglecology in general.”
I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder. “Is everybody ready then?”
Dagny took one last forlorn look around the apartment. “Yeah. I think so.”
We loaded up the Jeep, and Pan drove us out of Merellä. I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the seat.
“Don’t you wanna see the city one last time?” Pan asked softly. The vehicle slowed, and I knew the guard post at the gate out of Merellä had to be coming up soon.
“No,” I said.
Nobody else said anything more until we were beyond the walls, and the air felt easier to breathe.
The song had come back, a dull buzz gnawing through my killer headache. It wasn’t at full volume yet, but it was enough that I knew it was the enn morgana fjeurn on ennsommora orn playing on an infinite loop inside my skull.
“Now, why is it that we can never go back?” Elof asked, speaking deliberately. “I don’t think I got the full breadth of the situation.”
“The leader of the group that held us hostage and tortured us for a month is the leader of the Mimirin institution and basically the entire city of Merellä,” Dagny said, her tone exaggeratedly flat and monotone. “He attacked Ulla and threatened to kill her, and he plans to open the bridge to hell.”
“It’s not hell,” I corrected her, and I opened my eyes finally to see the thick forest of towering firs and hemlock trees surrounding us. “It’s just somewhere different, a world we’re not acclimated to.”
I remembered reading about the bottom of the ocean in Mr. Tulin’s nature magazines. The pictures made it look like a desolate hellscape with alien monsters. Like the angler
fish with its horrific mouth of spiky teeth. I was terrified of the ocean after that, but Mr. Tulin told me that I needn’t fear. Their world was a paradise for them and they were happy to be there.
“Just because their world isn’t for us doesn’t mean it’s worth any less or any more than ours,” Mr. Tulin said. “Life—all life—is worth something.”
“We have half a tank of gas, and I’m heading east,” Pan said. “Any ideas on where I should go?”
“My family’s in Ningrava,” Dagny said. “It’s just a small Kanin village on Newfoundland island, but it’s a fairly welcoming place. For a Kanin village.”
“I have a home in Ondarike in Colorado. You’re welcome to stay with me, if you’d like,” Elof offered. “We can make a game plan from there.”
“I’m going to Sweden,” I said. “You all go wherever you like, but I need to go back to Áibmoráigi to stop the Älvolk.”
“Ulla, you can’t go up against them alone,” Pan said incredulously. “We basically already tried that before, and it did not work out so well for us. We’re not soldiers.”
“I do dödstämpel and archery,” Dagny interjected, referring to the intense form of martial arts she practiced for self-defense.
“That doesn’t change the fact that the Älvolk held us in a cage for a month, and we couldn’t get free,” Pan said.
“I’m not planning to go alone.” I looked down at my phone and the full service bars at the top. “I’m going to call Finn and then I’ll call Bryn, and we’ll get backup from the kingdoms. They need to stop this just as much as we do.”
“I have contacts in the Vittra,” Elof said. “They can lend a few troops, I’m sure.”
Everyone was quiet for a minute. The way Pan’s hand was twisting on the steering wheel, I knew he was especially anxious.
“Should I book flights to Sweden then?” Dagny asked.
I looked over at Pan. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You oughtta know better than that by now, Ulla,” he said with a crooked smile. “We started this together, we finish this together.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand.
“So four seats?” Dagny asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “Pan and I have to make a stop first.”
55
Bolster
Even with the airboat speeding through the swamp, the wind wasn’t enough to cut through the thick, hot air. It had been just over twenty-four hours since we left Merellä, and this morning, Pan and I split from Dagny and Elof at the airport. They went north to Sweden, and we went south to Louisiana.
“You still wanna go to the hotel and freshen up?” Pan asked, as Knut drove us on the Yggammi Tree Inn airboat.
“Yes, that’s the first thing I have to do.” My hair was up in a ratty bun, and the back of my neck was still slick with sweat. Not only did I feel super gross, but nobody at the palace would take me seriously if I came around demanding an audience looking like this.
“And then we’re just gonna roll up to the castle and stroll on in and visit the Queen,” Pan said, not hiding his unease. “That’s the whole plan?”
“You’re oversimplifying, but yes. The plan hasn’t changed.”
“And why are you certain this will work?” Pan asked.
“Because.” I lowered my voice so Knut wouldn’t be able to overhear. I didn’t necessarily think that Knut was listening to us, but I was more paranoid since Ragnall’s threats against my life.
Pan leaned in closer, his shoulder against mine, and quietly asked, “Because why?”
“I think she knows the truth.” I looked over at him. “About who my father is. Or at least she suspects it.”
His mouth opened as realization hit. “That’s why she’s keeping tabs on you.”
“Yeah, that’s what I think.”
“But if she suspects…” He glanced back at Knut, and then he lowered his voice so much, I could hardly hear him over the fan engine, even with him nearly speaking in my ear. “You’re a threat to her position and her son’s. The Omte have absolute primogeniture succession. The firstborn child of the dynastic monarch inherits the throne, regardless of gender.”
I shook my head. “My mother isn’t Omte. I have no claim.”
“Your mother wasn’t,” he agreed. “But Orra Fågel was. And you once thought she might be. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to make the same connections you once did. But without the counterevidence that Indu and Elof gave you.”
“Alai,” I whispered. “You’re right. She thinks I’m a claimant.”
“You still think we should do this?” he asked.
I stared out at the swamp and the canopy of trees around us. My heart pounded hastily, as if trying to escape my chest, and my stomach convulsed.
“She hasn’t threatened my life yet,” I reasoned. “Unlike the man we’re asking her to help us stop.” I looked over at him. “We have to stop the Älvolk. This will help us do that.”
At the hotel, we checked into our room. We just got one room this time, only partially to save money. My savings were gone, and Pan had just enough to get us to Sweden. After that, I had no idea what we would do next, but I tried not to think about the fact that I was basically a homeless drifter now.
I didn’t have time to worry though, at least not yet, and I hurried to shower and dress. Since my hair was still wet, I did a quick fishtail braid. For my eyes, I did bronze on the lids with a smoky liner, and I paired it with a maxi dress dyed like an ombré sunset.
Pan looked gorgeous in snug jeans and a burgundy dress shirt, but I hardly had time to notice it because we were out the door and on the way to the palace.
The guard at the door let us in, but he waited with us in the foyer while the butler went to see if the Queen Regent would see us or not. I had tried to plead my case, but he refused to listen to anything beyond my name.
We waited long enough that I had started counting the snails on the walls to keep myself from freaking out. Pan kept shifting from one foot to the other and sighing.
A door slammed somewhere deeper in the palace, followed by bare feet stomping loudly on the cold stone floors. Then she appeared at the top of the steps, already in her dressing gown, which I should’ve guessed, since it was after six P.M.
“Why do you keep coming back?” Bodil asked, sounding incredulous as she descended the stairs toward us. “Have I somehow mistakenly given you the impression that you have a standing invitation to my home? Because you do not.”
“I need your help,” I said.
She glared down at me, her arms firmly folded across her chest. “I am not a magic fairy here to grant you wishes. I am the ruler of an entire kingdom. Who in the hell do you think you are to ask anything of me?”
I glanced over to the guard, and then I looked back at Bodil and tried to give her a knowing look. “Please. I promise this will be the last time I ask for your help.”
Her nostrils flared as she glowered at us a moment longer. “I’ll give you ten minutes, nothing more.”
“Thank you,” I said, but she didn’t say anything more as she strode down the stairs in a huff, her long robe billowing out behind her.
When she reached the main floor, she turned and stalked down the hall, and Pan and I hurried after her. It was dark in her parlor, no lights at all, and the black-and-red stained-glass window let very little of the setting sun in.
I hesitated in the doorway until Bodil lit two kerosene lamps, bathing the room in dim, warm light. The painting of King Thor was so large, the top half of his head was still in the shadows. Bodil had gone to a drink cart at the back of the room, taking a lamp with her so it illuminated her shelves of bejeweled figurines and wolfram statues while she poured herself rose-colored liquor from a decanter.
While she did that, I stepped over to the painting to get a better look at Thor. At my father.
His hair was short, but it was the same color as mine. His eyes were different, but his smile—lopsided, like his full lips—wa
s mine too. The picture was much larger than life, but he was obviously a huge guy, with burly shoulders and a thick neck.
There was something playful in his expression, and a knowing twinkle in his eye. He looked like the kind of man who loved life, and I wondered if, when he laughed, he threw his head back. I bet he had a loud belly laugh that could be heard all through the palace.
“Is he what you wanted to talk about?” the Queen asked. She stood just behind me now, and I looked over my shoulder to see her taking a long gulp from her glass.
I would’ve loved to ask her about Thor, to listen to everything she was willing to tell me about him. But the Queen had only given me ten minutes, and I couldn’t squander it.
“No, I’m not here for that,” I said.
She arched an eyebrow. “I suppose we should sit down then.” As Pan and I went to the velvet love seat to sit, she said, “I’d offer you a drink, but I’m afraid you’d accept, and I don’t want you staying long enough to finish it.”
“Thank you for seeing us at such an inconvenient time like this,” Pan said, attempting to defuse the tension. “We should never have asked this of—”
“Just get on with it,” Bodil commanded.
“The Älvolk are doing something stupid and dangerous, and we need warriors to help us stop them,” I said bluntly.
“Of course it’s about the damned lost bridge,” she muttered, and she took another long drink.
“They’re going to cross it and enter Alfheim,” I said.
“Let’s make it short then: no.” Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I won’t help you.”
“This isn’t for us,” Pan persisted, and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “This is for everyone and everything. The creatures that cross the bridge are not anything that this world can handle, and if they’re allowed to roam free, thousands of lives will be lost.”
The Ever After Page 25
