by Alane Adams
Their branches hung limply, not even stirring in the breeze.
“Answer me. Did I change my fate?” he shouted.
The water rose higher, engulfing the trees and then swallowing the island in one large gulp, leaving him floundering back in the cold sea.
Chapter 9
Sam flailed his arms as he gagged on seawater. His boots weighed him down. It was so much work to fight all the time, to hold his head up, to not be buried in the shame of the past, of the anger, of everyone he’d ever hurt. The list was long, after all. He sank lower in the water as the weight of it pulled on him. The Norns had reminded him of his failings. He could hear Catriona whispering in his ear, calling him her son.
Kalifus.
How he had welcomed those words when he’d been under her spell. How he’d craved to hear them. Now they repelled him, filled him with disgust. But, still, they called him like a spider that had taken up nest in his ear. He clutched the pouch around his neck. Odin couldn’t help him, but maybe another could.
“Vor, I need your help. You have always been there in my time of need. Please, help me bring Odin back. I can’t fail. I have to make things right.”
He waited, hoping for a sign the Goddess of Wisdom had heard him. He sank lower as nothing happened. It was no use. There was no help coming. Just as his head was about to go under, something bumped him. A dark shape. He twisted, fearing what he would find. A pair of dorsal fins cut through the water, swimming in a circle around him, butting him with smooth gray snouts.
Dolphins!
A burst of hope ran through him. He grabbed on to a fin with each hand. They took off, jerking him forward as they swam, tails thrusting them like jets. Sam held on, keeping his head up as water rushed past.
It didn’t take long for a dark landmass to take shape, a sharp outcrop of rock rising from the ocean. The dolphins slowed and then peeled away to each side, forcing Sam to let go. He floated, kicking his feet as he surveyed the island.
Craggy and unapproachable, the island held no palm trees or any sign of green. He struck out for it, worried the waves were going to smash him against the rocks but seeing no other option.
As he got closer, his fear grew. Something was moving on the island, something large and black.
Was this Groll? The island prison of Fenrir? The wolf the Norns had said was going to tear him apart?
Sam paused, holding himself still. Every bone in his body told him to swim the other way, no matter how far. And then a familiar scream rang out.
Mavery.
A flash of green light splashed across the rocks. Perrin must be there, too. And then came the long low notes of a wolf howling. It echoed over the water, as if it was calling Sam personally: Come on in, witch-boy. Let me have a nibble or two.
Panic rose up, choking him with fear as he recalled the fate the Norns had predicted. Mavery screamed again, and Sam moved, kicking his legs as he chopped the water with his arms. Waves crashed against the rocks in a spray of white foam that threatened to smash him to pieces.
He wasn’t that lucky. As Sam got closer, he noticed an inlet between the rocks. If he struck out hard, he could slide through the channel and land on a smooth slab. It was also conveniently out of sight of the giant creature he had glimpsed between mouthfuls of seawater.
Pulling himself up, Sam took a moment to catch his breath. If he was going to be mauled to death, he might as well give it his best. He wrung out his clothes and dumped the water out of his boots. There was no mystery as to where the girls were. He could hear Mavery scream and Perrin shouting out and sending blasts of green energy. The wolf let out intermittent howls and snarls that made the hair on the back of Sam’s neck stand up.
Finding no other excuse to delay his fate, Sam began climbing over the rocks toward the sounds. He came out on top of a flat rock. Below him, Fenrir came into sight. He made Damarius look like a puppy.
The giant wolf was every bit as fearsome as Sam had expected. He was the size of a two-story house, with paws like a Mack truck. His pelt was a wiry gray fur with patches of black. He pawed at the ground, drawing boulders and scraping up dust. Piles of bones were scattered on the rocky plain, the remnants of seals and whales that had drifted too close.
Sam sized up the situation. The girls were trapped against a rock wall. The wolf lunged at them, snapping and snarling, but he couldn’t quite reach them. He strained against a long silver leash too thin to hold back the fearsome power of such a creature. Then Sam remembered: it was bespelled with magic.
Around the wolf’s neck, a silver key dangled from his collar—the key to the chamber of that deadly sea serpent, Jormungand—the chamber that held the map to Helva’s underworld, where Odin was being held. Or so Sam hoped.
Sam drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, drawing courage into his bones. He might die today. He might get eaten by the wolf, but not before he’d saved the girls, and not before he’d gotten the key so that they could carry on the mission without him.
That much he could do.
“All right, then, Baron,” he said aloud to himself, “let’s get this show on the road. Here, wolfie, wolfie,” he called out, using his magic to catapult himself across the craggy rock and land in a tumble at the wolf’s feet. Sam looked up at the beast, seeing the razor-sharp talons, the thickly matted fur, the feral eyes.
As Sam called, the wolf turned, baring his lips into a snarl as he snapped at Sam. Thrusting his hands out, Sam let his magic flow and lifted the closest rock, flinging it at the wolf’s head as he dove to the side, avoiding the snap of his jaws. The rock landed, striking the beast in the brow and causing him to yelp. A thin trail of blood ran into his eye. Fenrir stalked forward warily, taking his time, as if he knew Sam couldn’t leave this island alive.
Sam sidestepped, inching closer to the girls, but Fenrir moved to cut him off.
“Sam, watch out!” Perrin shouted as the wolf crouched low. “You’re in range.”
No kidding. Sam had already scoped out how far the wolf could go.
He was the bait.
He readied himself as the wolf coiled into a crouch. “When he comes at me, you run behind him and get Mavery to safety,” he called.
“Get back, Baron, you fool!” But Perrin’s shout was lost as the wolf howled and sprang forward. Fenrir flew through the air with lethal speed, paws outstretched, teeth drawn into a snarl as he lunged at Sam.
Sam held himself still, fighting the fear and urge to flee until the last second, when he hoped for a miracle.
The wolf’s fetid breath blew on his face as he shouted, “Fein kinter, temporalis!”
And then he waited to see if he was wolf food.
A blast of arctic chill filled his bones, like he’d been injected with frozen Jell-O. A sharp wind buffeted his face, and then there was sudden stillness. Opening his eyes, he looked around. He was fifty feet away from the wolf’s jaws.
He’d done it! The transportation spell witches used to disappear and reappear somewhere else. He had never mastered it until now.
Desperation was a good motivator.
The wolf looked confused, wagging his head from side to side, searching for Sam. Perrin and Mavery climbed the rocks a safe distance above the wolf. Sam nodded at them, drawing his hands in a circle as the girls did the same. As one, they released a blast of witchfire, sending green balls of fire at Fenrir.
The wolf yelped in pain and flipped over onto his back to rub out the fire in his fur. Sam sent another blast as he ran in closer, dropping into a slide and then reaching up to grab the dangling key.
Fenrir snapped at Sam, nearly snatching him up in his jaws. Sam got under his chin, grabbed on to the collar, and hung on as the wolf rolled onto his feet. Fenrir was working his jaw up and down, trying to bite him, but Sam dangled under his chin, out of reach. He could smell the wolf’s stinking breath as he brought a paw up to try and claw him away. Perrin moved in, sending boulders flying at the beast as Mavery added her own smaller rocks to distrac
t him.
Sam had his hands on the key, but it wouldn’t come loose. It was attached to the chain that went around the beast’s neck that kept him bound to the rock. To release the key, he would have to break the chain.
Before Sam could think through all the reasons not to, he conjured up a spell in his mind. Dangling by one arm, he called on all of his strength. “In the name of Odin, you will yield to my hand!” he shouted, and he blasted the links with a bolt of energy from his palm.
The chain glowed a fluorescent orange color, sending off a thin trail of smoke before it shattered in an explosion of sparks. The whole length of it began disintegrating into a pile of hot metal chunks.
Sam dropped as the chain broke apart, hitting the ground with a bruising thump. The key landed next to him, tinkling and clanging on the granite.
The beast had his chance. Sam was winded, flat on his back. Using that much magic had drained him. He couldn’t move, let alone run.
This is it, then; the Norns spoke the truth. I’m wolf food.
Fenrir came closer, prowling forward to sniff at him. Sam held himself still, refusing to cower or show fear. Let the beast eat him. Mavery and Perrin were shouting and screaming, but Fenrir ignored them. The wolf sniffed Sam from head to toe. Sam waited for Fenrir to snatch him up, but the wolf hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure.
Then he howled in Sam’s face, baring his teeth and spraying him with foul spittle. “You freed me, Son of Magic,” he growled, surprising Sam with his ability to speak. “For that I owe you a debt.” Then the beast launched in the air, springing over Sam’s head to land with a loud splash in the ocean. He swam away with fearsomely strong strokes.
Sam lay flat, heart racing in his chest as he came to grips with two facts. One, he was still alive, which meant the Norns were wrong. And two, he had just released Fenrir from his chains. That had to be bad.
Then Perrin and Mavery were at his side, helping him up.
“Are you crazy?” Perrin shouted at him. “Or do you just have a death wish?”
Mavery flung her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. “I knew you’d come,” she said, her face pressed against Sam’s waist.
He grinned wryly, patting her back as he looked at Perrin. “Hey, I saved your life, didn’t I?”
“But you let Fenrir go!” she shouted, practically beside herself. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Sam pried Mavery off and picked up the key and showed it to her. “What I’ve done is found the key to the cave of Jormungand the serpent! The key that is going to get Odin back. Once he’s back, it won’t matter what I’ve done; he’ll fix everything.”
“You think Odin is going to fix this?” She pointed at the wolf’s dark head bobbing in the water.
Actually, Sam wasn’t sure at all. He looked down at the thick silver key and gripped it tighter. “I’m fine; thanks for asking. And, no, I don’t know, but there’s not much I can do about it now. So if you’re done yelling at me, I say let’s get off this island before Fenrir finds out there isn’t any land for a hundred miles and comes back.”
“But we lost Skidbladnir,” Mavery said, her smile drooping. “When we got washed overboard.”
“You mean this lousy piece of wood?” Sam pulled it out from the pouch around his neck and tossed it to her. “I can’t get it to do diddly-squat for me. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”
Mavery’s eyes lit up as she snatched the carving out of the air and cradled it reverently. “Oh, mighty Skidbladnir, ship of the gods, I knew you wouldn’t desert us in our time of need. Help us find Jormungand; take us across the sea to his underwater cave. Help us so that we might help Odin be restored.”
She held it up. Her eyes shone as if she had absolute faith in the ship’s ability to transform. An annoyed Perrin wouldn’t look at Sam.
“Please, Skidbladnir, I know the way is hard and the journey long, but you can do it. I believe in you, and so does Sam.”
The little witch elbowed Sam. Personally, he didn’t know what he believed anymore, but he nodded. “Yup, I believe in you, old Skid, buddy. Would love to be your captain again. It was so much fun last time.”
Mavery reached back and threw the ship as far as she could into the water. It bobbed there, floating. Sam had visions of it just sinking, but then a cloud of smoke swirled around it, and the carving began to grow.
In a blink, it was there in full sail. Sam shook his head and followed Perrin and Mavery up the gangplank that rested on top of the rocks. As they stepped onto the deck, Skidbladnir lifted anchor and the wind puffed out its sails, sending it lurching forward.
Mavery took over the helm while Sam approached Perrin. She had her back to him, staring out across the sea.
“That was a pretty gnarly talking wolf,” he joked.
Waves of anger bounced off her skin, and she remained silent, her lips pursed tightly together.
“What’s the deal? Why are you so mad? It’s not like I had a choice.”
She whirled on him, giving him a hard shove. “You always have a choice, and you always choose something that makes everything worse.”
The Norns had said the same thing.
Sam’s hackles rose. Perrin didn’t understand how hard it was for him to adjust to being a witch and a Son of Odin. She had grown up knowing who she was, and he was just figuring it out. “I couldn’t let that wolf eat you.”
“So you just let him go? What if he eats an entire village? What if he kills innocent people? What then, Baron? Not your fault?” She shoved him again. “Not your fault people get hurt around you?”
“Hey!” he shouted back at her. “At least I’m doing something. All you do is stand around and point out my mistakes.”
“Somebody has to because you don’t ever bother to think about the consequences.”
“What do you mean?”
“We just released Fenrir the wolf, a beast so terrible he was chained for eternity to that rock, and now he’s free, swimming across the ocean to who knows where. And we’re heading to an underwater sea monster, and maybe we’re going to free him, too. Doesn’t that seem a bit odd that in order to rescue Odin, we have to let go every bad thing he fought to contain?”
Sam sat down on the deck, holding his head in his hands. It was all so confusing. “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know!” he shouted, looking up at her. “Maybe you’re right.” The enormity of it hit him. The wolf and his vicious fangs loose on the world. “Crud, what am I doing?”
Perrin slumped next to him, sighing. “Probably the best you can.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder as the ship cut through the seas, sending a spray of water into the sun and creating a cascade of colors.
Sam’s stomach chilled, like he’d swallowed a block of ice. Because he felt it now, that feeling that it was all wrong, that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life, and he was about to make another.
And even knowing that, he didn’t have a better plan.
Chapter 10
The sleek ship carrying Keely and Leo was small and cramped with only basic bunks and a tiny galley for cooking, but it was fast. The second morning after they departed, Keely stood in the prow, letting the water spray her. Dolphins kept pace with them, gliding along with their silvery bodies. They made her feel hopeful, as if the world had not yet turned against them.
Life was so different now. Good golly, she had magic! How crazy was that? She looked down at her hands, wondering at the energy that flowed in her veins. Her encounter with Mimir had left her with a touch of Eifalian blood. She reached a hand up to her silvery white hair. It was cool to be able to do things. Like, she could sense when someone was lying. Howie was the easiest. His aura fairly burned with shame when he denied passing gas or taking the last serving of jookberry pie.
In a leather satchel, she carried the pink healing crystal she had acquired in Ter Glenn and the small phoralite shell that lit up at night. The shell had given her courage in the darkness more times than she could co
unt. Orkney had become her second home, in a way, more home than Pilot Rock had ever been—at least since her mom had died.
A wave of regret washed over her as she thought of her dad and what he must be going through. Even though she’d asked the god Ymir to let him know she was okay, the great creator probably had far bigger things to worry about than whether or not a foolish girl had sent a message to her father.
Keely leaned back and let the sun warm her face. It would get colder soon. They had passed the eastern shores of Garamond at dawn and would soon reach Rakim, the icy island to the north. Memories of her last visit haunted her. If only she had done something different, somehow stopped King Einolach from sacrificing himself. A tear slid down her cheek at the memory.
Leo joined her. That boy moved silent as a cat. “Why so sad?” he asked, wiping the tear away with his thumb. “You’re thinking of the king,” he guessed. “It’s not your fault, you know. You couldn’t have seen what would happen.”
Keely shrugged, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. “You don’t look so hot yourself. You’ve been quiet since we left.”
Tension coiled under his skin like a live wire, and then he exploded. “I should have never let Loki go! I should have just stayed in the underworld. I was the Sacrifice, and I failed.” He pounded his fist on the railing.
“Hey, stop it.” Keely gripped his arm, yanking him around to face her. “Don’t you dare say that. We all have a lot to bear. Sam killed Odin, someone he loved and respected. I let a king die, let him lose his head in front of me. You let Loki out of his prison. We can’t fall apart because we made mistakes; we have to go forward together, or we will never beat this.”
Leo didn’t look convinced, but before Keely could go on, Galatin called out, “Land ahead.”
Keely looked to her left and gasped as the forbidding cliffs of Rakim jutted from the sea. Snow frosted the distant mountains that divided Rakim from the Eifalian kingdom of Torf-Einnar. The Vanirian capital city, Galas, perched on the cliffs, warning off invaders with its high ramparts. The long trail leading up to the gates brought back memories of her last visit.
