The Legends of Orkney

Home > Fantasy > The Legends of Orkney > Page 79
The Legends of Orkney Page 79

by Alane Adams


  Jeric.

  He was handsome, with a square chin, thick brown hair, and golden eyes. His image wavered in the current as he held out his hand. “Nehalannia. I’ve been waiting forever. Come, it’s time to go.”

  “Jeric. Is it really you?” She held a hand up to his face.

  He smiled. “You found me after all this time.”

  Nehalannia turned to Keely and threw cold arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You have been a good friend. Please, let me give you a gift. Where I am going, I will not need this.”

  She lifted the pendant from around her neck and put it over Keely’s head.

  “This is the Pendant of Helina. It was gifted to me by my mother. It holds an ancient magic. In your time of greatest need, call on it, and you will find the strength to do what must be done.”

  Then Nehalannia took Jeric’s hand. She flickered and shimmered as her earthly flesh disappeared and she became transparent as he. She smiled at Keely one more time, waving goodbye over her shoulder, and then the light winked out.

  Keely floated helplessly in the cold darkness. She had no idea which way was up or down. She wrapped her fingers around the pendant, wishing, hoping with all her might that something might guide her. Energy vibrated under her palm. She could see a light glow from the stone under the algae and age.

  And then a hard snout butted into her, pushing her upward. A sleek gray body appeared next to her, its long bottlenose shoving her. It nudged her, giving a playful push. A giant wave swelled, pulling her along with it, sending her rushing through the water.

  A pair of hands grabbed her and roughly hauled her onto shore. Keely lay on her back not breathing, just staring at the sun through a haze of clouds. She was alive. Her fingers were still wrapped around the pendant, but it had stopped vibrating.

  A two-headed apparition came into view. Something pressed on her chest. Water was forced out of her. She vomited onto the ground. A great tearing breath drew into her lungs.

  Keely looked around. They were on the far shore.

  “What happened?” she asked, coughing up the rest of the water.

  The redhead, Snorri, answered gently, “We thought you were a goner. We saw the giant fins of that monster when she broke the surface.”

  “I don’t think Nehalannia will bother you anymore,” Keely said between chattering teeth. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  The pair of dwarf heads looked at each other in horror. “What do you mean, gone?” they said in unison.

  “Gone. She’s moved on. She found what she was looking for.”

  Norri groaned. “Ach, that’s terrible.”

  “A fine mess you got us into,” Snorri added, as if Keely had just ruined their day.

  “What? I thought you’d be happy,” she said, cradling the cup of tea they poured her. It kept spilling. Her hands shook like a washing machine on spin cycle.

  “That lovely monster was the key to our business,” Norri said. “You’ve put us out of a job.”

  “We should kill her. Before she tells anyone that Nehalannia’s gone,” Snorri said.

  “That’s horrible,” Norri answered, slapping his twin in the face. “She’s just a girl.”

  “Fine, we won’t kill her. We’ll just cut out her tongue.”

  “I’ll cut your tongue out,” Norri said, grabbing a knife and reaching for his twin’s head. They wrestled each other to the ground.

  Keely didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had just faced an underwater sea monster and met a ghost, and now this two-headed dwarf was talking about cutting her tongue out of her head. It was all so absurd.

  “Where’s Loki?” she asked once she had stopped laughing. She had a few choice words for him.

  “Right here, deary.”

  Keely looked up. Loki sat over her head in the low branches of a tree.

  “You threw me overboard,” she accused him.

  “And you survived.” He leapt down lithely and knelt next to her, studying the piece around her neck. “Looks a bit tarnished, but it will have to do.”

  Keely wrapped a hand around the ancient piece. Every bone in her body warned her not to give it to him. “You can’t have it. Nehalannia gave it to me.”

  He gave a shrug. “Go ahead and wear it if it makes you happy. I’ll take it when I’m good and ready. Now up you go; we need to be moving.”

  “I’m t-t-too cold,” she stuttered. “And I have no desire to help you find your wife.”

  “Too bad. I thought you might want to see your friend again.” He glanced down at his nails like they were suddenly interesting.

  Keely frowned. “My friend?”

  “You know, the dark-haired one that fancies you.”

  “Leo?” Just saying his name hurt. “But he’s dead. You said—”

  Loki waved a hand. “I might have exaggerated.”

  Shock made Keely breathless. “Leo’s alive?”

  Loki shrugged. “I’m counting on it. I left a very important piece of my knife in his back as a calling card for my beloved wife. With it, she will find him, and everyone will get what they want.”

  Keely punched him on the arm. “You let me believe he was dead!” she shouted. “That is the most horrible, cruel thing you could do.”

  He didn’t look the slightest bit chagrined. He pointed a finger at her. “And dead he will be if we aren’t there in time.” Loki turned and began striding off through the trees, whistling that aimless tune.

  Joy made Keely want to dance in the air. She closed her eyes in relief as tears pressed against them. Leo was alive. Loki might be lying again, but she had no choice but to follow and find out.

  Chapter 26

  Leo was living a nightmare. It was bad enough that Loki had left him for dead. An Umatilla warrior could accept death. But not this.

  He was a slave.

  After Loki had knifed Leo in the back, Leo had packed his wound with moss before blacking out. Sometime later, he had awoken, feeling weak. The frozen cold of the North had drained what remaining strength he had.

  The pain had been a burning prod in his back. Nearby the sound of brush being trampled underfoot had given him the strength to sit up. He had heard someone moving through the trees, the clomping of boots.

  He’d lifted his head to shout for help, to draw in the Vanir.

  The boots had moved closer. Leo had sighed with relief. And then a trio of bushy black-haired dwarves with grim features and hook noses had entered the clearing, eyeing him like he was a prize.

  And now he was their slave. The black dwarves had carried him to a place so deep underground, no errant light traveled down from the surface. He almost missed Sinmara’s underworld with its undead chasing him.

  It was better than this place.

  The layers of rock pressed down, cold and unfeeling. The only warmth was from the sweat generated from swinging a pickax into solid stone ten hours a day.

  Lifting his pick, Leo brought it down with all his might. Maybe his destiny as the Sacrifice was unchangeable. He had survived Sinmara’s underworld, only to find himself imprisoned again underground. It was cruel of Odin, if this was his will.

  Leo kept one eye on the slave master, Altof, as he worked. Altof was a foul-tempered, mean-spirited dwarf with a head full of black hair and a wiry beard he repeatedly stroked as the boys worked in a long row. There were a dozen slave boys in a line swinging their picks for endless hours until Leo’s arms ached and his bones were filled with sand.

  The other boys were all Vanirian, bigger and stronger than Leo, but young enough to be controlled by the dwarves. One of the boys kept eyeing Leo. His eyes sparkled like the sea on an icy day. He had a square chin, high cheekbones, and a natural confidence. Altof was hardest on this boy, cracking his whip over his head if he so much as paused.

  A twinge of pain made Leo gasp. His wound had healed oddly fast, sealing itself closed and leaving only a dull ache. Odin must want him to pay for freeing Loki
—that was Leo’s only answer for his predicament.

  Penance.

  At least the work took his mind off the fact that he had failed at every task.

  Finally, a low horn sounded.

  Leo wearily dropped his pick. The boys shuffled back to the common room they all shared. There were no beds, only rough wool blankets to shield against the chill. The boys slept on the stone floor and huddled together for warmth.

  The room smelled of sour sweat, urine, and fear. The boy with the arctic blue eyes sat across from Leo, his back against the wall as he ate his serving of cold rice.

  “You work hard for one who is not of this world,” he said softly.

  Leo’s eyes flared in surprise. “How did you know?” He kept his voice pitched low, one eye on the guard outside their cell.

  The boy shrugged. “You look Falcory but are not. We have heard stories, rumors of earth children that came to save us all.” He looked at Leo, his azure eyes piercing. “Is that true?”

  The other boys grew silent, holding their breaths as if the fate of the world rested on Leo’s answer.

  Leo smiled bitterly, spooning in some tasteless rice. “I was brought here as the Sacrifice. I should be dead, yet here I am, and the mischief-maker is free. I failed at my job.”

  The boy continued to stare at him. A small smile curved the side of his lips. “Maybe you were brought here for another reason. I’m Eithan,” he said, extending his hand. “I want to go home. Do you think you can help us?”

  Leo froze, looking at the ring of boys. Who was he to promise them anything? His role had been decided. A sacrifice. Someone to be left behind after his job was done. But something nudged at him, a whisper that asked, What would your father do?

  Not take this lying down, he answered. Chief Pate-wa would never stand to be another’s slave, and a flood of resolve made Leo so weak he almost dropped his bowl of rice. His father would not stand by, and neither would Leo. He set his bowl down and then took Eithan’s hand, grasping it firmly. “I’m Leo, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on staying long.”

  Another boy pushed through the ring, his face angry and flushed. “This earth boy couldn’t save a flea. We follow him, and we’ll get a beating and no meals. I say turn him over to Altof and be done with it.”

  Eithan stood to face the boy. He had a bearing about him, something so familiar to Leo he could swear he had seen the boy before. His golden hair hung in a ragged cut to his shoulders. He had a small scar over his left eyebrow. “Griggs, shut it. Or you’ll feel my fists, not Altof’s.”

  After a moment, the boy drew back, folding his arms as he sulked.

  They huddled in a circle while one of the boys kept an eye out for the guards. A stubby candle lit up their faces with a tiny flickering light.

  Eithan drew on the ground with a stick. “They just moved us to this new shaft last week. They’re looking for something. They’re not so interested in the ore anymore.”

  “Is that why they’re pushing us so hard?” Leo asked.

  Eithan nodded. “They seem in an awful hurry to find it. One of them was talking about how she was worth her weight in gold, enough to set them up for eternity.”

  “She? Who is it?”

  The boy shrugged. “All I know is that she’s down here somewhere. But here’s the thing. This new shaft’s not as secure as the other one. It’s too narrow to store the rock we dig out, so they have to haul it away every couple days. They load the rock into these carts”—he drew a long set of tracks—“and take it up to the surface. We can sneak up the rail shaft with the cars.”

  “And when you get to the top and Altof’s waiting to cut our throats?” Griggs sniped.

  “Shh!” the lookout hissed. They stubbed out the candle, and everyone dropped to the ground, feigning sleep. A light passed over them before moving on.

  After a few moments, Eithan struck a flint and relit the candle.

  “Well?” He looked hopefully at Leo.

  Leo studied the scratching. “It needs some work. Griggs is right. We need a plan once we get to the surface and enough time for everyone to go up the shaft. Tomorrow we will study their patterns. Everyone, pay attention. We need to know how many of them there are, what time they change shifts, what their weaknesses are.”

  The next morning, there was a hushed excitement among the boys. Few words were spoken as they shoveled in their rice allotment. Even Griggs looked hopeful, saying nothing as they shuffled along the shaft, taking their picks off the rack under the watchful eye of Altof.

  The mine was laid out like a hub with spokes. Their sleeping chamber was at the end of one narrow tunnel. It led to a main room, where all the tunnels met. This hub was where the rail cars were loaded and were run up to the surface by a pulley mechanism that clattered loudly when the handle was being cranked.

  As if sensing the unrest, the guards split up the boys into smaller groups. Leo was sent to work in a different shaft, with Eithan, three other boys, and a new guard, Brok.

  Brok had broken teeth and bushy eyebrows that grew in a straight line across his forehead. He looked mostly bored as he cradled a whip in his arms.

  After a while, he sat down, put his feet up, rested his head back on the rock, and began snoring. The sound of the pick ringing lulled him to sleep, but the moment they stopped swinging, his eyes would open, and he’d give them a nasty glare.

  Leo swung his pick down. It bounced back at him. The rock was impenetrable here. He swung again, and there was a clang as the head of his pick broke off.

  Brok shuffled over, studying the broken pick like it was Leo’s fault.

  “Stay here,” the ugly dwarf grunted. “No funny business,” he added, stubbing his finger in Leo’s chest. “You don’t want to see what I can do to your pretty face.”

  Leo didn’t answer; he just sat down, glad to have a moment to rest. Eithan sprawled next to him along with the other boys.

  “Here.” Eithan passed him a small flask of water.

  Leo drank it, grateful for the brackish liquid. He closed his eyes and dreamed a cool breeze brushed his forehead. It smelled like pine, like someone had just cut down a Christmas tree. The wound in his back throbbed, like there was a frozen ice chip lodged deep inside.

  Strange.

  Opening his eyes, Leo sniffed the air. He could make out just the faintest of odors. The other boys had their eyes closed, savoring the rare rest. Leo stood up. That chip of ice in his back pulsed faster.

  The tunnel extended on, dark and foreboding. Grabbing the torch off the wall, Leo held it in front of his face.

  The shaft tilted downward. He couldn’t see more than a dozen feet.

  Checking to see that Brok hadn’t returned, Leo began walking down the tunnel. The air got even cooler, prickling his skin with the sting of ice. The faint scent of pine led him forward. The ice chip in his back grew even colder. When he put his hand to his skin, he wiped away a crust of ice.

  Really strange.

  Leo stood perfectly still. A soft breeze feathered his cheeks—coming from a crack in the rock running up to the surface, perhaps.

  Holding the torch, he ducked as the ceiling grew shorter. The tunnel thinned out. After a few more steps, he came to the end.

  Crouched, he put one knee down and looked around. The draft was still fanning his face. Something was back here, something that promised freedom. Laying the torch on the ground, he ran his hands over the walls, feeling for a crack or an opening.

  He pushed on the rocks. One of them moved. Excited, he felt around the edges. The rocks at the end of the tunnel had been stacked here. There was more beyond the end. Prying one of the rocks loose, he was able to create a small opening. Holding up the torch, Leo peered through.

  A cavern opened up on the other side. The ceiling was higher than the tunnel Leo was in. In the center was something tall and large, like a large rock maybe. Tossing the torch in through the hole, Leo put his eyes back to the opening. The torch rolled to the center and
lit up the object there.

  Leo and the woman saw each other at the same moment. She was encased in solid ice. Her eyes were the only things that could move. As their gazes met, a connection zinged across the chamber.

  Who are you?

  Her voice was like a whisper in his skull. She was evil; he could feel it in her spirit.

  “I am Leo,” he whispered, unable to help himself.

  How did you find me?

  “I don’t know. I could smell pine. And when Loki stabbed me, I think he left—”

  But at the mention of Loki’s name, a piercing pain made him clutch at his head. Blood started to run out of his nose. “Stop!” he cried. “What did I say?”

  My cursed husband’s name.

  Leo pushed aside the pain and searched his memory for the day Mavery had told her story of Loki’s family. “You’re Angerboda.”

  The pain eased. She looked pleased that he knew her name.

  Queen of the Dokkalfar. I can bring down cities with a mere thought. I will repay you anything you ask if you release me.

  “Anything?” Leo wiped the blood from his nose, imagining freedom for himself and all the boys. He peered through the hole, gathering his courage. She remained frozen in the same place, but her mind reached into his.

  Anything. Now, release me!

  He hovered, trying to think. “If you are so powerful, why can’t you break free?”

  Instantly, excruciating pain like a nail driven into his temple made Leo’s knees crumple and his body bow in half. Slapping his hand to his head, he tried to make it stop.

  How dare you question me? Do it again, and I will blow out your eardrums so that you never hear another sound. I will gouge out your eyes so you never see another creature. Do you hear me? Her whisper rose to a shriek in his head.

  Leo clutched his head, nodding his whole body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please. Don’t do that again.”

  The pain receded enough that he could lower his hands.

  I have many powers I cannot access here. You were sent to release me. Do it, and anything you ask for will be given.

 

‹ Prev