The Legends of Orkney

by Alane Adams

  Sam palmed a bolt of lightning at the rock face. There was a splintering sound as the surface of the rock shattered, and then a symbol appeared above each tunnel, glowing with a dim green light, same as the sky. Over the left tunnel, the outline of an eye stared at them. On the right was an outline of an eye that was closed.

  “That eye, I recognize it from Helva’s map,” Sam said excitedly, pointing to the one on the left. “I think I know what to do.” The closed eye had led to a dead end. The open eye had led to the next set of tunnels.

  Running back to the helm, Sam grabbed the wheel, and the ship lunged forward. Nosing the wheel to the left, he pointed the ship toward the opening under the open eye.

  As they entered the tunnel, the ship was swept forward by a strong current, hurtling them through the dark channel. Sam held on to the wheel, blind and unable to see. He imagined a grisly death when the ship ran aground on a sharp rock, but there were no bumps. In moments that felt like a lifetime, they exited the tunnel with a whoosh of cold air and coasted to a stop.

  Sam and Perrin made a ball of witchfire to light up their unknown destination. They both gasped. Their wild ride had taken them underground into a large cavern. Overhead rocks glistened and dripped.

  A strange green glow lit the water. Behind them, Sam could see the dark hole they had come through. Before them, three dark openings awaited. The ship kept moving forward, pushed along by an invisible current.

  Sam folded his hands and sent a blast of energy at the rock over the tunnels. Three different runic symbols appeared:

  “X marks the spot?” Perrin joked questioningly.

  Sam shook his head. “No, I remember that one. It dead-ended. The other two crisscrossed.”

  “Which is it?” the witch asked gently, touching his arm in encouragement.

  “The three-pronged Y,” he said confidently, remembering the path in his head. He nosed Skidbladnir into the center tunnel. Air rushed past as the ship began racing ahead. His stomach dropped as the prow tilted forward, as if they were going over the edge of a waterfall.

  “You’re doing it,” Perrin said in the dark, socking him on the arm.

  He grinned like a fool even though she couldn’t see him. “Piece of cake. I got this.”

  The ship slowly straightened out as Geela and Mavery came up from below. They got their first glimpse of the next cavern.

  “Cripes,” Mavery said with a gulp. “Where are we?”

  “This is the second chamber of Helva’s underworld,” Geela answered, looking around warily. “We must be alert. All sorts of strange creatures exist in this place.”

  Before them, four tunnels awaited. Sam sent a bolt of witchfire at them, but nothing happened. He did it again, gathering his strength and making it bigger. The rocks stood silent and blank.

  “What’s wrong?” Geela said, a small frown on her smooth features.

  He shrugged. “Maybe we need more juice.” He shook out his fingers and didn’t object when Perrin took a stance next to him, her hip cocked forward as she drew her hands in a circle. Together they sent out a twin blast of energy. It hit the face of the rocks and bounced off and ricocheted back at them, nearly singeing Geela where she stood at the helm.

  “Watch it,” she snapped, but it worked. The rocks slowly lit up and revealed their symbols.

  Everyone turned to stare at Sam expectantly.

  He stared at the glyphs, looking from one to the other. There was a lightning bolt, a radiant sun, a crescent moon, and a star. Which one was the right way?

  Mavery put her hand in his, looking up at him with trusting eyes. “You can do it, Sam, I know you can.”

  He winked at her and cracked his neck, shaking out his hands as he studied the glyphs. He spoke out loud just to reassure himself. “Okay. I’m sure I traced the sun and the lightning bolt to a dead end, so they’re out.”

  Mavery squeezed his hand. Drawing in a deep breath, he looked at the other two glyphs. “The star feels right, but so does the moon. They both went nearly to the next circle, but one of them stopped.” He drummed his fingers on the railing.

  “So where now, witch-boy, er, Sam?” Geela asked. “Pick one so we can move on. I managed to slow down the leak, but it won’t hold forever.”

  Sam felt drawn to the moon. It glinted at him, like it was calling to him. It reminded him of Keely. Calm and serene. He looked back at the star. It twinkled at him, welcoming him. Which was it? Moon? Star?

  Sweat rolled down his back. He had to choose.

  “Moon.” He nodded to himself. The moon was right.

  “Are you sure?” Geela asked.

  Doubt clawed at his stomach. He wasn’t sure of anything. His hands were slick with sweat as he grabbed on to the railing.

  Three pairs of eyes stared at him, and he erupted.

  “No, I’m not sure! What do you want from me? I can barely remember my name, let alone the scribbles on a wall in the underwater lair of a serpent that we killed before the map got turned to rubble. I’m doing the best I can, so maybe you can give me a break.”

  He stalked back to the helm and was about to put his hands on the wheel when he glanced at the star. It twinkled again. He took the wheel, and the ship jumped forward, heading straight for the star.

  Geela looked over her shoulder. “You said moon,” she said questioningly.

  “I know.” Sam tugged on the wheel, but it wouldn’t budge, heading straight for the glittering star.

  “It’s wrong, Sam,” Perrin said. “I can feel it.”

  She tried yanking his hands off the wheel, but it was like they were superglued on.

  “Stop the ship,” Geela commanded, coming to his side and grabbing his other arm. But not even the great strength of a Valkyrie could pry his hands loose.

  Chapter 23

  Skidbladnir lunged forward into the tunnel. As the prow passed the entrance, everything around them went silent and black. There was no rush of movement, no sudden drop; the ship drifted along slowly. Darkness pressed in. Sam couldn’t see his hands on the wheel.

  “What’s happening?” he called. His words sounded muffled, like he was speaking in a world filled with cotton.

  “We’ve gone the wrong way,” Geela said from his side.

  An eerie yellow glow lit up the water.

  “There’s something out there,” Perrin called. Sam could just make her out in the glow. She stood by the edge of the deck. She backed away as figures flitted up out of the water.

  “Stay back,” Geela cautioned, drawing her sword.

  Mavery squealed and ducked under Geela’s arm as the Valkyrie brandished the sword over her head in a shower of golden sparks. Sam lifted his hands off the wheel, relieved he had use of them again.

  “What are they?” he whispered as figure after figure rose out of the depths, disembodied, faceless, shapeless but not voiceless.

  They sent out high-pitched shrieks that rippled across the water. Sam covered his ears, and the others did the same. Their wailing cries were heartbreaking, filled with a sadness that nearly brought him to his knees with grief.

  “They’re Helva’s wraiths,” Geela called. “Everyone hang tight to the ship. They mustn’t take hold of you.”

  She lashed herself to the mast, wrapping the rope around her and Perrin. Sam grabbed Mavery and crouched under the helm, holding her tight in his arms.

  The cold fingers of the wraiths passed over him, reminding him of the ones he and Mavery had once encountered in the woods. At least these ones didn’t shoot bolts of ice. He caught the fleshless gaze of one. It looked sad, its features drawn back into a wide scream. Tendrils of fog formed and shaped an endless wail in the center of its face.

  “Back off,” Sam snarled, waving his hand at it and releasing a bolt of energy. It dissipated into wisps of fog. As it did, another wraith came in from behind, wrapping fingers around Mavery, tugging on her.

  The filmy fog was surprisingly strong and tensile. He pushed it away, but the wraith had wrapped bony hands
around Mavery’s waist.

  She screamed at Sam, clinging to his arms as her legs left the deck.

  “Sam, don’t let me go!” she cried.

  He held on to her with all his strength, calling on his magic to create a blast of energy, but he couldn’t release it unless he let go of her with one hand.

  Seeing no other choice, he threw his hand out, palm thrust upward, and sent witchfire that pushed the creature back, dragging Mavery with her. The witchling tumbled back against the side of the ship, then scrambled up, peeling away the wraith’s bony grasp as she reached for Sam’s hand.

  “I’ve got you,” he shouted, grabbing for her, but her fingers slipped out of his as another wraith swooped down and snatched her away up to the roof of the cavern before plunging straight down toward the water. A dark swirling hole opened, providing an exit. In unison, the other wraiths peeled away from the ship and vanished into the same watery hole.

  Sam lunged to the side of the ship, screaming Mavery’s name as she disappeared from sight. Determined to follow her down no matter what it took, he climbed on the railing, but Geela tackled him, knocking him to the deck before he could go over.

  “Stop, Sam, she’s gone.”

  “Get off me!”

  Sam struggled to throw her off, but the Valkyrie pinned him with her elbow across his throat. “You can’t help her by going to your own death. If there is any chance of rescuing her, we have to make our way to Helva’s mansion.”

  Sam pounded the deck with his fists, tears burning his eyes. Why did he always let down the people who counted on him? Every time. He couldn’t get anything right.

  Geela lifted her arm and rolled off him and went to stand by the helm. Perrin came over to Sam and stuck out her hand.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling him to his feet. “Mavery would want us to keep going. She’s a tough little bird. We’ll find her.”

  Sam staggered to the railing, gripping it with all his strength as he kept himself from vaulting over the side. “I’m coming for you, imp,” he whispered as tears ran down his cheek.

  He swiped at them and then went back to the helm and turned the ship around. It sailed docilely back the way they came in until they popped out in the chamber with four tunnels. The star had burned out. The other three symbols remained glowing.

  Sam pointed at the moon without speaking. The ship lurched forward, making its way silently toward the tunnel. It listed slightly to the left. The steering dragged. They were taking on water. A lot, by the feel of it. Sam looked at Geela, but the Valkyrie just shrugged.

  “There’s still time,” was all she said.

  Sam had his doubts. How much time before the ship sank? How long before they sunk to the bottom of this pit of horror? He was tempted to go down below and see how bad it was, and then he decided against it. Geela was right; all they could do was go on.

  As they entered the tunnel, Sam clung to the wheel as the ship tilted forward over a steep drop into a free fall. It seemed to defy the laws of gravity, but that was probably his imagination. At last, it evened out until the ship slowed to a crawl.

  They exited into another cavern, this one darker and gloomier than the others. Perrin lit up a large green ball of witchfire. Long shadows loomed over the water from rocky spires that hung down from the ceiling. The ship scraped its mast on one of the spires. A tearing sound echoed as the sail ripped in half.

  Geela stood by the railing with her hand on her sword. Sam swallowed back the bile and waited for the next set of tunnels to appear.

  Five dark openings loomed in front of them. He and Perrin stood side by side and sent out a blast of witchfire. The green ball of energy bounced off and ricocheted around the cavern, but nothing happened.

  “We need more power,” Perrin said. “We’re not strong enough.”

  Sam stared at his hands glumly, realizing she was right. “We need another witch.”

  Mavery.

  The pang hit him again, making him weak, hopeless. And then a stinging voice rang out behind them.

  “I knew witches were useless. Useless, powerless, can’t even send out a small blast of witchfire to save your friend.”

  Perrin and Sam turned as one to look at Geela. The Valkyrie stood behind them, arms folded in disgust.

  “What did you say?” Sam asked as anger prickled under his skin.

  “I’m saying that witches run when it gets hard. Admit it; you can’t light them up because you don’t care. You have a cold heart. Just like every witch I’ve ever met.”

  Anger boiled over in Sam, reminding him of the good old days when rage flowed like water in his veins. “You think I have no feelings? You think I don’t care? Mavery is the best person I’ve ever met. How dare you call me coldhearted!”

  He spun around and threw his hands forward, unleashing a tirade. The unfairness, the grief, the loss—all of it overwhelmed him. Beside him, Perrin did the same, matching his blast of energy with her own angry blast. When the air cleared, the symbols glowed over the tunnels.

  Geela just smiled and patted them on their shoulders. “That’s better. Now, which way do we go?”

  Sam glared at her, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. He and Perrin looked at each other, and the truth hit them at the same moment. Geela had just been pushing their buttons.

  Not appreciating her methods, Sam turned back to the symbols and took a deep breath, reading them out loud.

  “Ox, horse, rabbit, snake, raven.”

  “Anything?” Geela asked evenly.

  Sam bit the inside of his cheek. What did he remember? “Not the rabbit,” he said tersely. What if he made another mistake? Who would be lost then? Who would he sacrifice next with his mistakes?

  “Don’t think about it,” Perrin said. “What does your gut tell you?”

  Easy, raven. But he had to be sure.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You saw it, you traced the lines, you know which one it is. Just say it.”

  “What if I’m wrong?” he said, his voice shaky.

  Perrin’s eyes drilled into his. “You won’t be. You know what to do. Just do it.”

  “I can’t.”

  She gripped his arm, yanking him close. “Yes, you can. Mavery believed in you.”

  “And look what happened to her!” he shouted. “She’s gone, and I’m never going to see her again.”

  “Why are boys so stupid?” Perrin grumbled. “We’re going to come through this.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because you’re Sam Baron, son of Robert Barconian, the last Son of Odin, the first Son of Catriona, the last and first of your kind. You were born to do this, and no one, no one will deny you your role. You are going to win because it’s what you do. You just have to believe it, and you can do anything. Anything at all.”

  He stared at her, his breath heaving in his chest. And then calmness settled over him, a feeling of peace and strength, as if his mother had just given him one of her famous hugs.

  “You like me.” A grin split his face even though it was the most ridiculous thing to say and feel at this moment; it was all he could think of. “You like, like me.”

  She rolled her eyes, but a hint of color crept into her cheeks. “You’re an idiot,” she muttered, but he could tell she was pleased. “Just pick a symbol.” She turned her back on him, crossing her arms and tucking her hands in her sleeves.

  He smiled again as he made his way back to the wheel.

  He would choose. He knew what to do. He was a Son of Odin, and, yes, a Son of Catriona. He was a witch and the son of a god. He would not be defeated. At least not before he’d gotten in there and raised a little chaos of his own.

  “Raven,” he said, and he put his hands on the wheel of the ship.

  Chapter 24

  Keely rested her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs as she warily watched Loki sail the ship. She had cried every tear she had, weeping silently to herself over Leo’s sensele
ss death. She hated Loki with every fiber in her body. The heartless god did what he pleased without any thought for the consequences.

  That was his problem. He was like a spoiled child. He might not have meant to kill Baldur, but Leo . . . that was on him. She had to get away from him. She had to get back to Sam and the others and help in the fight against Surt. Keely had considered every escape possible, but, so far, jumping overboard into the cold and rough seas and swimming to the distant shoreline was her only option.

  Loki perched on the back rail, whistling to himself with his feet propped up on the ship’s wheel. He still favored his shoulder, the one she had shot with the mistletoe arrow. It was the only satisfaction she could take from their situation. Based on the direction of the sun, she knew they were heading north, running along the coast of Torf-Einnar.

  “Where exactly are we going?” she asked.

  Loki rubbed his hands together. “We have an errand to run before we collect our passenger.”

  Keely sat up straighter. “Passenger? Who?”

  “My beloved wife, Angerboda. Queen of the Dokkalfar.”

  She sifted through her memory but couldn’t recall the name. “Who are the Dokkalfar?”

  “They’re known as the Dark Elves. The opposite of your pretty Eifalians. A race of creatures so deadly they can tie your intestines in knots with a single thought. By the gods, I’ve missed her.”

  Loki looked teary-eyed as he reminisced about his evil wife like she was the girl next door. It made Keely want to gag, but she pressed for more information. “Where do the Dokkalfar live?”

  “The ice realm of Svartelheim. A long way from Orkney. Angerboda will be missing home, and she’ll be furious with me for taking so long. And when Angerboda is furious, well, cities burn to the ground, civilizations end—you get the drift.”

  “You know where Angerboda is?”

  Loki shrugged, his ruddy cheeks crinkling into a nasty grin. “Frey buried her deep in the Gomaran mines of the black dwarves, encased her in ice so far underground it would take a ferret to dig her out. Anyone who knew her location has been dead for a couple thousand years.”