Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Looks like we can win this,” said Sune.

  “Don’t you dare,” I growled.

  “Skalei,” whispered Ali.

  Revna lunged with a knife, but Ali parried the strike. Fast as lightning, Ali lunged, slashing Revna in the face with the tip of her blade. Blood sprayed across the white marble of the tower.

  At first, I thought Ali had killed her, but then my sister moaned. Slowly, she sat up, clutching her face in her hands. Ali had carved a gash diagonally across her face.

  With a snarl, Sune slammed his fist into the side of Ali’s head, so hard I heard the crack echoing out over Boston. Before she had a chance to recover, he was holding his own knife to her throat. “You dare come after my sister?”

  Ali was out cold, limp in my brother’s arms.

  I wasn’t going to stand by and watch them kill Ali, even if it meant I would give away the truth about the Helm, that I’d found a way around it.

  Help me kill them, Ganglati.

  Certainly, he whispered.

  Sune brought his blade up, ready to bring it down into Ali’s throat.

  Ice water filled my veins, and I lost control of my body. With an inhuman scream, I ripped him away from her.

  I threw Sune over the side. For a final instant, I saw him suspended in midair, pale hair flying, eyes wide as saucers, before he disappeared out of sight.

  Then came the jubilant squeals of the boars, and the shouts from the judges that the hunt was over.

  Chapter 35

  Ali

  I paced the length of my room, back and forth, back and forth. Even after rewrapping the bandage, my leg ached. My thoughts whirled wildly between three things.

  The first was the Winnowing. The final tallies had been thirty-nine High Elves, thirty-nine Vanir, and twelve Night Elves remaining. The Vanir and the High Elves had tied so far.

  Worst of all, the Night Elves had lost. The addition of the Vanir to the Winnowing had disrupted our plans completely. I thought if they hadn’t turned up, we would have won. We could have freed ourselves from the caverns, lived in the sunlight, found a new source of food. We could have stopped the starvation.

  Grief carved me open. The Vanir boar had trampled our plans into the dirt.

  Now, we’d been eliminated from the Winnowing. Either the High Elves or the Vanir would have dominion over us. If the High Elves won, they would march their soldiers into the Shadow Caverns in the next few days. Then they would kill every last one of my brethren. I had to hope now that the Vanir would win, and that they would be merciful. But they didn’t exactly seem like the merciful type. I still didn’t understand why they’d entered the Winnowing to begin with.

  Then, there was Galin.

  He’d killed his own brother to save me, and I had no idea what sort of punishment he’d face. But it seemed our plans to find the wand were now in ruins.

  After he’d thrown Sune off the tower, High Elves on moths descended on us. Revna immediately told them what happened. Galin had been marched out of the tower in manacles.

  I turned Skalei over in my hand, then threw her at the door to my room.

  Thunk.

  She quivered in the wood. I was getting even better at the knife throwing, though I wasn’t sure what good it did me now.

  I swallowed hard. With Sune’s death, the trial had ended. The High Elf moth-riders took the little princess to safety, leaving me up there. I had to find my way back to the Night Elves. I didn’t exactly get a hero’s welcome. I was now considered a traitor again.

  When I’d reached them, they stood in a half circle, their weapons pointed at my heart. Bo, the lanky fucker, thought he’d make himself a new Shadow Lord. He revealed how I’d blackmailed him. He told them Galin and I were secret lovers, and that I’d pressed a knife to his throat and threatened to kill him if he told anyone.

  He told the Night Elves I’d abandoned them to join the High Elves, that it was my fault we lost.

  That sealed my predicament. I was supposed to disappear for good. So, I’d packed my bags and waited.

  I recalled Skalei, then threw her at my door again. Thunk.

  By consensus, I’d been banished to Midgard.

  I glanced at the door, hoping Galin would visit a final time. When I went into hiding in Boston, absolutely no one would be able to find me. Not even him.

  It was after 1 a.m. Disappointment slid through my bones. I thought that if he could have, he’d have created a portal by now to find me.

  I pulled open the door to my room just a crack and looked out into the dark hallway. I wondered if they’d taken Galin to the dungeons or simply locked him in his room.

  I moved into the hallway, keeping to the shadows. What I needed was an informant.

  I heard a cough, and ducked into a shadowy alcove just as a guard walked by. He passed, and I slipped up behind him and pressed Skalei to his jugular.

  “Feel that steel?” I whispered in his ear. “It’s cold, right? I’ll warm it with your blood if you don’t answer my questions. Now, nod to show that you understand me.”

  I felt him shaking as he nodded.

  “Good. Now, where is Galin? Answer me quietly.”

  The guard gave me directions in a tremulous whisper.

  When he’d finished, I wrapped an arm round his throat, squeezing to deprive him of just enough oxygen. I wasn’t going to kill him, but I wanted him out for a while. He struggled in vain for a minute or so before going limp, and I dragged his unconscious body into a room, out of the way.

  Then, quietly as possible, I followed the guard’s directions to Galin’s quarters.

  I’d expected Galin’s door to be locked, but instead, it was wide open. That didn’t seem promising.

  “Skalei,” I whispered.

  Moving quietly, I crept inside. His room was a disaster. His bed torn apart, his pillowcases cut open, books strewn everywhere. There was no sign of the prince.

  Quietly, I shut the door behind me and started searching the room, but I just found more destruction. I began to poke around, flipping over books, looking under the blankets. What had they been searching for? Some sorcery thing, probably.

  I stepped into the trashed bathroom next. What I saw stopped me in my tracks.

  With black charcoal, someone had written F-word A on the mirror.

  What in Hel?

  My eyes lingered on the mirror. What exactly did F-word A mean? Why not just write Fuck?

  But maybe it wasn’t some vandal guard who’d written that. What if it had been written by Galin?

  What if it was a message?

  F-word A. I looked closer at the A. There was something more beyond it, a part of another letter. A sort of vertical smear. Which would make the full phrase, as written, F-word Al.

  It could be a message to me, and Galin had been interrupted while writing. F-word Ali. That had to be what he’d been trying to write.

  What in Hel does that mean? Fuck Ali? I couldn’t see him censoring his own mirror-swears if he really wanted to express rage.

  “F-word Ali,” I said under my breath. “F-word Ali.”

  I paced around Galin’s quarters, muttering to myself. What was he trying to tell me? A warning, maybe?

  I tried to envision what had happened. Someone had come to his room, and he’d known he only had seconds to send a message. He’d grabbed charcoal and written on the mirror. F-word Ali—only he’d been cut short.

  Maybe his message hadn’t been a warning; maybe it was some sort of instruction.

  F-word. That’s what he wanted me to know. What F-word could he have been referring to? Fuck was out. Friend? Frog? Fluffy?

  But even as my mind raced through the possibilities, the answer was crystalizing in my subconscious. Galin had used a special magic word to hide his home in Cambridge. It had started with F.

  I racked my brain trying to remember what it was. It seemed like ages had passed since I’d been cornered by the horde of draugr on the broken fire escape. I remembered how Galin—or M
arroc, as I knew him then, back when he was cursed—returned, parting the undead with his makeshift torch.

  He had left me in the path of danger, but he’d returned to me. Just like he always did.

  I concentrated, trying to remember the word I’d used to reveal his hidden home. Finland? Farthing? Furniture? No, it had been in Old Norse.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that might help squeeze the word out of the depths of my mind. Now, I remembered how he’d used the burning femur to scratch the word into the frozen dirt while warding off the bloodthirsty draugr.

  It started with an F, then an I, then an N.

  He’d protected me. Kept me safe. And he’d smelled of smoke and sage.

  There was another N.

  I had it—all the letters in a neat little row in my mind.

  “Finnask!” I nearly shouted.

  At first, I thought nothing had happened. Then, I turned around. Where the remains of his desk had stood was now a neatly ordered workbench. A row of jarred herbs, stacks of vellum and parchment, a big stack of leather-bound spell books.

  I crossed to it to get a better look. In the center was a small scrap of paper.

  Dear Ali,

  I’m sorry, but I haven’t much time before they come back for me. Do not try to help me. It is too dangerous. If you want to save your people, now is the time. Gorm won’t be in his quarters tonight. Sneak in, steal the wand. Use it to free your people. Any sorcerer should be able to help you do it.

  Forever yours,

  Galin

  My heart sped up, my chest unclenching a little. So perhaps there was hope, after all? Maybe all was not lost. Not yet.

  I stuffed the note in my pocket and whispered, “Finnask,” again to hide the workbench. He was right. I still had to do whatever I could to save my people, even if we’d lost the Winnowing.

  I was turning to leave when I heard voices in the hallway. I glanced at the door and remembered that the lock had been smashed.

  Revna’s voice floated through the stone hallway. “The tunnel-rat is missing, but at least Galin is going to get what he deserves. Fratricide. It’s the worst sort of murder, except maybe regicide. And it was practically that, too! The monster was killing anyone with a claim to the throne.”

  I dove behind the bed just as the door to Galin’s room swung open and High Elf guards began to pour into the room.

  Chapter 36

  Galin

  I stood bare-chested on the dais, peering over into the Well of Wyrd. They’d taken my coat and shirt. A soldier pointed a wand at my heart. The obsidian lid that normally capped the well had been removed, and I stood inches from the depths. If I made one false move, the hex would slam me back into the void, and I’d plummet all the way to the roots of Yggdrasill.

  In the night sky, the moon shone brightly. Nearly full.

  High Elves crowded the amphitheater seats on the roof of the Citadel to watch my execution. It wasn’t every day the crown prince was accused of treason. Of murdering his brother. And while I’d planned to destroy my family all along so that I could assume the throne, this hadn’t been part of the plan.

  I’d done what I’d had to do to keep Ali safe.

  Perhaps there was still time for me to find a way out. Ganglati, at least, had gone quiet in my mind.

  A trumpet sounded, and my father strode onto the dais, not far from me.

  I peered down at the Well of Wyrd. This was where it had all begun—only, this time, Ali wouldn’t be here. This time, they intended for me to plunge to my death alone.

  Gorm looked like he wanted to gut me himself. Even his fear had burned away with rage. He knew he was next. “I should throw you in without a trial.”

  “The law says otherwise.”

  “Silence,” he snapped, and turned away from me to face the crowd. “I have asked you all to come here to pass judgement. My youngest son, Prince Sune, is dead. My eldest son, Galin, is accused of killing him.”

  A hush passed over the crowd. For many of them, this was the first time they’d heard of this.

  I looked around the amphitheater. There was no sign of my sister. “Where is the witness?” I asked.

  “Revna!” bellowed the king.

  His voice echoed in the wintery air. Silence greeted him. The frozen wind whipped over me.

  It began with hushed murmurs, then movement in the back of the crowd. Then more voices. At last, Revna appeared at the top of the steps. She wore a long, flowing gown of lace and fur. A bright red slash ran diagonally down her face where Ali had cut her.

  She raised her arms. “Father, I am here,” she said, loud enough that every elf in the amphitheater could hear her. “I am here to tell the truth about what Galin did.”

  Then, slowly, making a grand show of it, she began to walk down the steps. By the time she reached the dais, the crowd was murmuring with excitement.

  Revna stopped next to my father, then pointed her index finger at me. “This is the man who murdered my brother. But after careful consideration, I request mercy for him. The Night Elf cast a love spell on him. He is helplessly in her thrall.”

  The High Elves cheered wildly.

  Only when they quieted was I able to speak. “And how exactly was I able to murder my brother?”

  Revna looked at me like I was a complete idiot. “You threw him off the top of Washington Tower.”

  “Right, but how could I have done that?”

  She shook her head in disgust. “Is this going to be your defense? Parroting questions back to me? I saw you do it—you picked him up by the collar and tossed him over the side.”

  “But how could I have attacked him, dear sister, when I wear the Helm of Awe?”

  Revna was trembling with rage. “I don’t know how in Hel you did it! I know what I saw. I want you in chains, brother. In chains and under my command.”

  I didn’t want to entertain what disturbing fantasies she might have in mind.

  “Clearly, the helm is broken,” the king’s voice boomed. “You’ve used your magic.”

  “Absurd!” I returned, pretending to be shocked. “It’s unbreakable.”

  King Gorm’s eyes narrowed. “Prove it. You swore an oath to me, that you would remain loyal. As my loyal subject, I need you to prove your fealty.”

  “How would you like me to do that?”

  The king reached into his belt and withdrew a long dagger. Gold plated, of course. He tossed the dagger at my feet. “I order you to cut off the ring finger on your left hand.”

  Gritting my teeth, I reached down and picked up the dagger. This was … not ideal. And of course he would choose something twisted.

  “If you don’t do it, I’ll have you thrown into the well!” yelled King Gorm. And there it was again—that fear. He was terrified of what I’d do without the helm, if it didn’t work.

  I could ask Ganglati to take over now, to kill him. But this wasn’t the time. Not with all the wands pointed at me, ready to slam me into the well if I failed to prove my fealty.

  I gripped the blade tightly. It was just a finger.

  A heavy silence fell over the amphitheater. “As you wish,” I gripped the blade and pressed it against the first knuckle of my left-hand ring finger. With a sharp movement, I cut it off.

  The pain was unimaginable, taking my breath away, but I held up my hand and blood pumped from the bloody stump.

  The crowd roared, and that was when I knew I’d won.

  “You see,” I shouted, gripping my wrist, “I have proven my fealty undoubtedly. I’m afraid my sister was confused.”

  Quietly, under my breath, I whispered a spell to start healing the severed finger.

  “This is all the fault of the Night Elf,” said Revna. "The sorceress. Bring her out. We will have her confess her trickery.”

  An icy trickle of fear began to fill my veins. I didn’t want Ali anywhere near this.

  A guard appeared at the top of the amphitheater. Next to him, gagged and bound, was Ali. He shoved her down the sta
irs, and she stumbled.

  “She was a witness,” said Revna. “Let’s hear what she has to say. She’s a dark sorceress who has enchanted my brother. It is she who must die.”

  I felt a strange sort of déjà vu as Ali stumbled onto the dais. She couldn’t speak, but her eyes locked on mine.

  Revna ripped off the gag. “Tell them what happened. What really happened.”

  “You killed Sune. I saw it.” said Ali slowly. “You lied.”

  Now that was interesting.

  “No!” Revna clutched her hair, looking like she might rip it out. “You ruined everything. I knew you would ruin everything. Why are you even still alive? They were supposed to have killed you!”

  Ali’s nose wrinkled. “Who?”

  “The Shadow Lords! I sent a letter, telling them exactly what you’d done. That you betrayed your own people. That you helped Galin. Why did they let you live? You are a traitor to your own kind.”

  Ali’s silver eyes flashed bright. Her silver hair whirled around her head in the icy winds. “You were the one who had me sent to prison? You wrote that stupid letter?”

  Revna pointed to her face. “Do you think I regret it, after what you’ve done to me? You’ve been exiled now, haven’t you? You are no longer under the Night Elves’ protection, and your kind doesn’t get a trial. Time’s up, Astrid.”

  Every one of my muscles was now tightly coiled as I got ready to defend Ali.

  King Gorm fixed his eyes on me. “Galin, now you must truly prove your fealty. It is time for you to kill the Night Elf. Fail, and you will be thrown into the well.”

  I stood there, staring at him as it became completely obvious to everyone in the amphitheater that I’d been lying about my complete loyalty. And it also became clear to me that I was about to plummet into the well if I didn’t come up with something fast.

  “I order you to kill her!” the king shouted. “You promised loyalty to me, correct?”

  “I will not,” I murmured.