by S. T. Bende
Forget how, just do it again. But flowery fields aren’t going to work with Runa. Goodness won’t hold her off. You have to access something darker, the spirit urged.
Oh, I can’t use dark magic.
I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to debilitate her. Fill her head with darkness, not light. It’s the only thing that will save your friends.
A Unifier would never do—
Your mother did it. I saw her. Runa’s spirit spoke quietly.
My mother filled someone with a dark vision? There was no way that was true.
Your mother filled many someones with dark visions, the spirit corrected. She had to. Her job was to bring beings together, right?
I nodded.
Well, sometimes she had to work with beings like me—a spirit whose host rejected the virtues she tried to instill. In those cases, so long as she had the consent of the spirit, your mom pressed dark visions into the host to distract it when it was on the verge of committing a truly heinous act. In stopping that act of evil, she increased the strength of the spirit’s goodness. It was the only way she could preserve that being’s light. And it was the only way to save them from themselves.
I processed this quickly, as Runa’s hazy eyes came into focus. Her spirit was right—the flowery field wasn’t holding her off for long.
Even if my mom did that, I’m not sure I’d be able to. I’ve never willingly hurt anyone before—
You won’t be hurting Runa. You’ll just be taking her to a dark place.
Yes, but—
My protest was cut off by a blue beam shooting past my head. It struck the floor of the cell, searing a six-inch hole in the stone.
Oh, gods. She was going to kill me.
You have my consent; use a dark vision to stop Runa. Do it for me.
I didn’t have time to ask what exactly constituted a dark vision. I grabbed hold of the first picture that came to me and lobbed it at Runa before her blue beam of death could take me down.
Darkness. I pushed the cloak of night into Runa’s mind, blanketing her vision in a thick field of black. It was admittedly a softball interpretation of dark vision, but I hoped it would be enough.
“What did you do?” Runa screamed. “I can’t see!” Her hands swung around wildly, the blue beam firing in a chaotic stream. It ricocheted off the stones of the tower, and I threw myself onto the ground to avoid being hit. The moment I broke my focus, I lost whatever connection I’d forged to Runa’s brain. No! When I looked up, clarity colored Runa’s eyes. Now she held her hands steady, pointing them directly at me.
Use something darker, Runa’s spirit pleaded. I don’t want to hurt you. And I really don’t want to kill your friends.
I’d tried sending lightness. I’d tried sending darkness. With a lurch, I realized the only thing that could truly debilitate Runa was…physical pain.
Hurry, Runa’s spirit begged. And I understood that in this moment, hurting Runa was the only thing that could save her spirit—could save us all. I opened my mind to hers, and consciously forged a link directly to her brain. This time, I wouldn’t let it go.
I didn’t have a choice.
I took a breath and strengthened the connection between our minds. Darkness charged at me, barreling down the thick tube that joined us. But I pushed it back, sending my own energy at Runa with a force that made her step back. Here goes nothing. I closed my eyes and set my course.
Pain. I pictured a cluster of molten lava rocks percolating like an angry popcorn ball, and pressed my vision at Runa. It funneled down the center of her body, releasing a stone into each of Runa’s energy centers. Now. On my command the rocks exploded, setting off a fiery inferno of agony within each of Runa’s centers. The tiny balls seared her from the inside out, and she cried out. My stomach curled at my action, but I knew the consequences of not hurting Runa would cause far greater injuries.
Pain, I pressed again, praying I had enough power to halt Runa’s destructive path. A second cluster of lava rocks made its way down her spine, depositing explosives in each of her centers. Now. Runa clawed at her stomach, shrieking as the new blast set fire to the nerves throughout her body. As her face contorted, the blue spark at her palm extinguished.
“What are you doing?” Runa wailed.
Harder, Runa’s spirit urged.
This is horrible, I sent back.
Hurry, Before it’s too late.
Runa released her hold on her torso and held up her hand. The spark flickered.
Again, her spirit urged.
I fortified our connection. Pain. I dialed up the intensity, mentally coating the outside of each lava rock with a jagged layer of shrapnel laced with a paralyzing venom. I pressed the fortified cluster through the cord that bound us, depositing the enhanced weapons in each of Runa’s energy centers before detonating the devices. My heart tugged as I watched Runa drop to her knees, the blue flame extinguishing as she fell.
“Stop that!” She brought her hands to her head.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, as I sent another burst directly to her sixth energy center. She squeezed her eyes shut and fell to her side, writhing on the ground.
Her loss of control provided the window I’d been waiting for.
Pain. I pressed one final wave of explosives through Runa’s body as I released the cord that connected us and turned for the door. In my haste to escape, I failed to realize that breaking our bond would terminate my control. Razor-like fingernails gripped my arm before I’d taken two steps, pulling me onto the ground just before a spiky heel thrust against my chest.
“Whatever the Hel that was, it ends now.” Runa panted as she spoke, wiping sweat from her forehead. “After I take out the valkyrie, I’m going to wipe out Odin’s entire council. Then it’s goodbye, Asgard.”
“No!” I screamed as Runa stormed for the door. I scrambled to my feet and raced for the exit, trying to forge another connection between our minds. Pain. Pain. Pain! I sent the intention, but I was too late. In one swift movement Runa was gone, slamming the door behind her.
Stop her! I pleaded with the spirit. Its signature grew fainter as Runa raced down the stairs and out of the building.
I’ll hold her off as long as I can. But that’s all I can promise.
I nodded. Just tell her how sorry I am. It’s not her fault she’s my first assignment. I wish I was better at this.
Elsa…
It’s true. I’m a terrible Unifier. But you know who’s really, really good at their job? Forse. And if Runa just calls off this god hunt, leaves Brynn and Tyr alone, and lets me go, it will show Forse her soul is capable of choosing what’s right, and he’ll mitigate her sentence. Runa might be on a path she thinks she can’t turn back from, but she still has a choice here. There’s always a choice. And if she makes the right one, then Forse will …hei? Are you still there?
But she wasn’t. The spirit was gone, either snuffed out completely, or ported to another part of the realm by the goddess who’d seen too much loss in her life to recognize her chance at redemption. My shoulders dropped. I’d failed Runa. She’d made her choice.
She’d chosen fear over love.
I leaned back against the wall and resisted the urge to give in to the weight of my failure. Instead I scanned the room, looking for something that could help me break out of this cell. I couldn’t have Forse charging into the castle; the way Runa operated these days, he’d be killed before he made it to my cell.
My eyes lit up as I saw the smoldering ember of the lava rock at the base of a sconce. Either Runa didn’t know the power it held, or she was too preoccupied to bother to extinguish it. Either way, her oversight was my salvation. That rock was my ticket out of here.
Since the cell lacked any creature comforts, including potholders, I tore off the bottom of my shirt and wrapped the fabric around my hand. With great care, I picked up the rock and crossed to the window. The heat from the stone passed through the thin fabric in no time, searing my palm with its white-ho
t inferno. But I gritted my teeth and ignored the pain, sawing through the metal bars of the window like a crazed inmate. If Forse and I didn’t stop Runa right now, Tyr’s life would be forever changed—he’d be dead, or descending on a path to darkness that would break him.
And I couldn’t let either of those things happen to my brother.
Blisters formed as I sawed through the remaining bars, dropping the rock the second I’d created a space big enough to squeeze through. Then I climbed out of the window, closed my eyes, and sent my energy to my brother.
Hold on, Tyr. We’re all going to get out of here.
Elsa? Tyr’s confusion resonated inside my head.
Runa’s headed your way. Whatever you do, don’t engage her. Grab Brynn and fly out of there right now.
I think it’s a little late for that. Tyr’s thought radiated tension, but I didn’t have time to scan his vision screens to see what he was up against.
Just stay safe and get out as soon as you can. I’ll grab Forse, and we’ll port in to pick you up.
Else, I don’t think—
Our connection broke as I lost my footing. I pulled my energy back from my brother and scrambled to gain hold of the rocky outer structure of the castle, digging my nails into the stones as I slid down the wall. When I’d regained control, I didn’t dare focus my energy on anything but a safe descent. For the millionth time, I wished I’d gotten my brother’s flying ability. One minute. One minute and I’ll be with Forse in the forest, and he can port us to Tyr and Brynn, and get everybody out of here.
My stomach plummeted as I chanced a look down. One minute might as well have been an eternity.
Here goes nothing.
When Forse suggested we take up rock climbing last year, I’d thought he was insane. But as I descended the rocky wall of my Svartalfheim prison, I was grateful I knew the best angle to dig my rapidly chafing fingertips into the spaces between cold stones. And when I accidentally dislodged a pebble from the castle’s exterior, and it took a slow eternity to plunk into the moat, I realized I’d miscalculated the tower’s height. After thirty seconds of climbing, I was still fifteen-plus meters off the ground. Oh, well. There was no turning back now.
My toes sought purchase on a slight outcropping, and I descended with more caution than a hypochondriac in a sick bay. Odin hadn’t given me my brother’s flying gene, or even Henrik’s semi-gene that let him jump—or fall—ridiculous distances without getting hurt. For me, one wrong move on a tower cloaked with this much dark magic would mean a stay in Asgard’s healing ward…if the lower healers could even handle an injury of that magnitude.
Focus, Elsa. I pushed fear out of my consciousness and channeled happy thoughts, or at least less morbid ones, as I continued downward. Fingers, fingers, toes, toes. The tips of my fingers were raw by the time I made it halfway down, and I hoped any nearby drone birds weren’t equipped to sniff out blood. If they were, the skin around my nails would drive them into a frenzy.
I’d made it three quarters of the way down when I heard the rustling. Something shifted in the window just above me, and I pressed myself to the tower and held my breath. After an endless pause, I chanced a look up. A deep purple bird sat on the window ledge. It turned its head as I studied it, and its eyes dilated with unnatural speed. They formed a geometric pattern and widened, almost like the aperture of a…
Oh gods. The drones found me.
There wasn’t time to think about how much the landing would hurt. I bent my knees and pushed off the side of the tower. It only took a second to drop onto the thin patch of land between the tower and the moat, but in that time I heard the whoosh of the drone’s wings as the bird leapt from the windowsill. It let out a cry as my legs absorbed my impact, and I knew Runa would learn of my escape soon. There was no time to catch my breath, or even remove the rock firmly lodged in the heel of my shoe. I had to run. Fast.
Despite possessing more emotional gifts than physical ones, I managed to build enough momentum to launch myself off the sooty bank at the base of the tower, and clear the width of the moat. It should have been a moment of glory for a girl who was, admittedly, more indoors inclined, but the succession of bullets chasing my heels kept my celebration in check. My toes pushed off the grainy earth as I funneled everything I had into driving forward. I pumped my arms back and forth, and focused on their movement instead of the burning sensation rising in my legs. I sorely regretted not working out every morning like Brynn suggested. She’d been right about my post-coma fitness level.
Stupid Fenrir.
The shrapnel exploding in my path jolted me from my “should haves,” and I ran harder, making a beeline for the edge of the forest. If I could get under tree cover, I might be able to lose the bird, or at least evade it long enough to find Forse. He was somewhere in the trees; our paths were bound to cross if I just kept running.
A boulder exploded to my right and I darted left, running a serpentine pattern until I reached the forest. Then I put my head down and sprinted. If I hit a tree, so be it—the drone was closing in, and I couldn’t afford to waste energy on something as trivial as navigation. My focus was so singular that I almost didn’t hear the familiar voice calling through the trees.
“Elsa! I said get down!”
Forse’s warning finally registered, and I threw myself onto the ground. The drone’s wing grazed my back as it dove for the exact spot I would have stood, if not for Forse’s heads-up. Another shot rang through the trees, and as I rolled I saw Forse standing at attention with his pistol pointed at the bird. It plummeted to the ground, destructing in an explosion that rained faux feathers, wires, and a shower of black-sooted soil in a ten-foot radius. I curled into a ball and covered my head so my back bore the brunt of the impact. The razor-tipped feathers pierced my skin, and a stream of pain erupted at each point of entry. My body contorted of its own accord. I writhed on the ground, careful not to roll onto my back, and even more careful not to scream. Most drones signaled their controller when they self-destructed, and I didn’t want to give Runa any reason to come to this particular spot.
As if I could have kept her away.
“Elsa!” Forse’s voice sounded far away. Footsteps pounded behind me, but I couldn’t roll over to watch his approach. The razors sent their poison through my bloodstream, and pushing them in farther would only expedite the process. “Elsa, don’t move. When I get there we’ll port you to the healers and—”
“Stay back!” I yelled. A wave of darkness passed over me, alerting me to the third presence. The residual anger filling the forest confirmed my fear. “She’s here.”
“Who? Runa?” Forse sounded like he’d moved closer. He was almost at my side.
“I said stay back!” I pled. I wrapped my arms around my knees as a fresh wave of pain rocked my back, shooting up my neck and settling into the top of my spine. A drawn sob escaped my lips as the poison shot down my vertebrae, filling my nerves with fire before rendering me stiff.
I couldn’t move.
“Förbaskat,” Forse swore at the same time as a sharp energy filled my body. I was jolted upward, and drawn, as if along a pulley, into the arms of the psychotic creature I’d come this close to escaping.
“How many times do I have to kill you?” Runa screamed at Forse. Her claw-like fingernails scraped my arms as she cuffed my hands to restrain me. It wasn’t necessary; the poison had essentially left me frozen stiff from neck to toe. Only my facial muscles escaped paralysis, allowing me to watch as Forse drew his sword and charged at Runa. My avenging angel was stopped short by a blast from Runa’s left hand. The beam of energy sent him flying against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, and he crumpled to the ground, narrowly avoiding impaling himself on his own sword.
“Forse!” I shrieked.
He stumbled to his feet and raised his sword just in time to deflect four more beams from Runa’s hand. One ricocheted so close to her head she had to duck to avoid decapitation. As she stood, her glare intensified. Forse began to c
lose the distance between them.
“I wouldn’t do that again,” she warned. “Your girlfriend can’t defend herself. And it would be a shame for her to lose a limb…or worse.”
Forse froze. “What do you want, Runa?”
“I told you,” Runa hissed. “I want Fenrir. You gave him to me before, the day he killed the Fredriksens. I want you to do it again.”
“Forse didn’t give you Fenrir. You broke into his cage and turned him on my parents.” As I spoke, Forse’s face turned the off-white of the late-spring snow.
“You never told her?” Runa’s lips pulled back in a terrifying smirk.
“Elsa, I—” Forse’s eyes looked haunted. What was going on?
“Forse, give me the wolf, like you did when we were together,” Runa demanded.
“He never gave you Fenrir,” I repeated. “And there’s no way we’re turning him over now. He’s too dangerous.”
“I know.” A cruel smile stretched across Runa’s face. “Forse is the one who allowed him to kill your parents.”
She was trying to bait me. I kept my mouth shut and focused on Forse’s perfekt face.
“Don’t listen to her,” Forse pleaded.
“Why not? Afraid your little snowflake can’t handle the truth?” Runa stepped between Forse and me, and placed her hands on either side of my face. Without the ability to fight back, I had nowhere to look but into her mud-colored eyes. “Didn’t you ever wonder how your pet managed to procure the key to his cage and unlock his own door?”
“I know you stole Forse’s key and set Fenrir on my parents.” Despite the tumult swirling in my gut, I kept my voice void of emotion. “I know you’re the reason they’re dead. Is that what you want to hear?”
Runa laughed. “Oh, Elsa. You really have no idea. I’m only half the reason your idiot parents are no longer with us. Have you really spent all these years believing Forse would be stupid enough to let someone steal that key? Especially when that someone was dating the god responsible for locking Fenrir up and keeping that key safe?”
I moved my eyes back and forth, trying to see around Runa to Forse. “What’s she talking about?”
