Freed: (Phoebe Meadows Book 2)

by Carlson, Amanda

  The other elf snatched a torch off the wall as light was getting scarce the farther down we went.

  Junnal lumbered after them with me on his back.

  Moaning issued from behind some of the doors, and my stomach lurched, my hands itching to grab my swords. At the end of a long passageway, and beyond many doors, stood an open archway.

  Loud sounds and rumbling came from inside, the voices as deep as Junnal’s. The elves scurried through, and there, sitting at an enormous table, were five gigantic trolls. They didn’t look like giant hybrids either. Their skin was sickly green and sallow. They each had multiple tusks protruding from their heads—some erupted out of their foreheads, while others from their jaws.

  They all looked menacing.

  Upon our entry, the one in the middle stood up, toppling its chair, its huge fist pounding down on the wooden table, making it shake to the point of breaking. This troll wasn’t as tall as Junnal, so I let myself exhale. “Who are you?” it bellowed.

  “This is,” the elf leader glanced back as Junnal, “what’s your name? And hurry up about it.” It snapped its long, skinny fingers. “We don’t have all day.”

  “Junnal,” the Jotun intoned.

  “Yes, then, this is Junnal,” the leader addressed the other trolls, not cowed by their height or ferocity. “We’ve brought him here to join your ranks, as has been decreed. The Valkyries have been denied access once again, but our sacred leader knows those harlots will find their way in eventually. We must guard Odin’s favorite with all we’ve got and then some, so we have hired more help.”

  They were talking about my mother.

  She was here! We’d arrived at the right place.

  My joy was cut short as all the other scary trolls stood up, some of them clutching evil-looking weapons like maces and hatchets. Introducing the Jotun into their ranks wasn’t going to be as easy as these elves seemed to think. Junnal tensed beneath me, his muscles tightening, his club rising.

  “Well,” the elf sniffed, “we will leave you to whatever it is you do here.” It waved its hand. “You are all to await orders. I’m certain there will be some movement of some prisoners very soon.”

  Both elves turned and walked out without a second glance, leaving Junnal to fend for himself with five angry trolls looming over him.

  The troll who’d stood first snarled, “We don’t need your kind here! Get out!” Its forehead tusk quivered with each word.

  Junnal shrugged, unperturbed by their assessment of him.

  One of the other trolls came around the table, brandishing a short cudgel. “We don’t accept strangers . You are not of our kind.”

  Junnal’s back muscles twitched.

  That was my cue to get off.

  How was I going to do this so no one saw or heard? The Jotun sensed my predicament and slowly backed against the wall. The trolls took that as a sign of retreat and began to catcall.

  “That’s right, mixed race, leave us,” one growled.

  “Be gone, trash!”

  “It’s better to leave now, with your head still attached.”

  Junnal stopped a foot from the wall and lifted his club. As he winged it down, I sprang off. The weapon smashed into a chair that sat next to us, blasting it to smithereens. Yanking the cloak around me, I made my escape, hoping these foul creatures didn’t spot me. I edged toward the door as the trolls came forward.

  Junnal was quick to react, socking his huge fist into the side of one troll’s head, while smacking another with his club.

  I had no other choice but to head back the way we’d come. I rushed blindly into the hallway. The dark elves had taken the torch with them, so it was hard to see. Only a flicker of light at the other end allowed any visibility. I counted twenty doors, ten on each side, between where I stood and the stairway we’d taken.

  Could my mother be behind one of these doors? The odds were fairly good.

  This was a well-guarded level, according to the elves.

  Time to find out.

  I crept toward the first door, which was made of thick steel, or whatever metal they used here. It held traces of red rust and looked indestructible. There was a small grate at around bellybutton height that must have allowed the dark elves to communicate or give food to their prisoners.

  Behind me, smashing noises echoed down the passageway, followed by snarls and bellows loud enough to rattle the walls. I waited a few moments to see if anything happened, but no elves came running. It must be commonplace for trolls to fight like they were in the WWE.

  Trying to ignore the pandemonium, hoping Junnal won, I bent down to the grate. I didn’t unlatch it in case whatever was in there could sound an alarm, or worse, poke my eye out.

  Instead, I put my lips to it and whispered, “Leela? Are you in there?”

  Silence.

  I was just about to move to the next door when I heard a sinister cackle, followed by a low hissing, “Freeeeee me, young Valkyrie, and I will give you all the riches you desire. Sparkly, shiny things for the taking.”

  The voice held malice. There was no mistaking it.

  Nope. Nope. Nope.

  Wasn’t going to happen.

  To my horror, long, creepy fingernails poked around the grate, the voice louder, demanding, “Do not disappoint me, fair maiden,” it seethed, “or I will seek my revenge on you.”

  I backed away. “Um, I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m just looking for my mot—my motor…for my…car.” What? That was the worst backpedal ever. But I’d almost let the freak know I was searching for my mother! And how did it know I was a Valkyrie?

  The thing cackled, sounding like a wailing infant—if said infant was a scary, adult, long-fingernailed supernatural creature. “You are Odin’s spawn, are you not? The one they fear? I hear them bemoaning your very existence daily. Help me, and I will spare your life.”

  How did it know that? It was best not to answer. I backed away.

  Its voice followed me, taunting me. “I will be set free, mark my words, and when I am, you will perish!”

  Sorry, buddy, I’ll take my chances, thank you very much.

  I turned and rushed down the hallway, skipping a bunch of doors, but I couldn’t exactly stay where this creature could torment me. I stopped at the last cell before the stairway, listening for elves and hearing nothing, tucking my cloak hood down over my face even farther, just to be sure.

  Fen would have been an asset right about now, but I couldn’t think about that. He was likely frantic with worry. I hated that I’d had to leave without telling him where I was going. But finding my mother had always been the mission. It’s what I’d been training for since I’d arrived in the stronghold. Huggie had told me not long ago that it would be my mother who would protect me from the Norns, the three fates who wanted my blood. So saving her would also help me.

  A noise sounded behind, making me almost jump out of my skin. I whirled around to face the door. “I can help you, Valkyrie,” a voice whispered from behind the closed grate.

  He sounded male and human.

  I crept over, bending down. “How do you know what I am?”

  “I can smell you.”

  Oh .

  “You can trust me,” the voice continued. “I’m from Asgard, and I’m fated to die soon anyway, so I have nothing to lose.” The man’s voice held a stoicism I couldn’t deny.

  “I’m looking for the shieldmaiden named Leela,” I whispered. “Do you know where they keep her?”

  “Not exactly. They move her around often,” he answered. “But I promise I can help you find her if you set me free. I know she’s near.”

  That gave me hope. “If I free you, how do I know you won’t try to hurt me?”

  “I have no reason to harm you,” he answered matter-of-factly, a slight chuckle followed. He sounded like my brother Tyr. He had the same Asgardian accent.

  “Maybe not, but why would you choose to help me?” I asked.

  “As a gift for granting me my f
reedom, of course,” he said.

  I bit my lip.

  One of two things could happen. One, he could do as he said, or two, he could try to kill me or turn me over to the elves.

  Was I willing to take the risk or not? That was the question.

  There was no doubt we needed help. Getting it from someone on the inside would be invaluable.

  Bellows echoed down the hallway. The troll-giant fight was winding down.

  Sensing my trepidation, the man said, “I know you don’t have reason to trust me, but I know this realm. I’ve been here for years. I can be an asset. Free me, and I will help you find Leela and escape.”

  It was too tempting to pass up. “I have a hybrid Jotun as a bodyguard,” I warned. “If you try anything, he will protect me.”

  He chuckled. “If you fail to trust me, you may keep me bound.”

  “Bound?”

  “I am…restrained at the moment.” His voice was tight.

  My eyebrow quirked as Junnal shouted and a troll cried out in pain. I had to make up my mind. I decided to ask him one more question. “Why are you here? Why do the dark elves hold you captive?”

  “My mother felt this was the best way to protect me.”

  He could not have said anything to me that would’ve shocked me more. “Are you serious? Your mother sentenced you here?”

  “She pays the elves handsomely to watch me—it’s her way of keeping me alive, but honestly, it’s not really a life.”

  “Why are you bound if you’re not a real threat?”

  “Because I keep escaping.”

  “Are you a god?” I asked.

  “Yes, my name is Baldur. Open the grate.”

  I unlatched the small opening and bent down.

  He pressed his face near the small bars, grinning. He looked completely human. “Your bodyguard must be mighty. You’re lucky he’s winning. Those trolls are vicious. But the continued commotion could lead the elves here at any moment. You must free me now.”

  Making up my mind, I reached for the handle to yank open the door, but of course it was locked. I inspected the front. No keyhole. Instead, a small combination safe lock sat to the left of the jamb. There were no numbers on the face. The entire thing was covered in weird-looking symbols.

  A pair of gleaming blue eyes met mine as a wry smile played on his lips. “I know the combination.”

  10

  __________________________

  ____________

  “D on’t make a mistake,” Baldur warned. “If you do, alarm bells will ring throughout the realm. They take breaches in security very seriously here.” There was a hint of a chuckle was in his voice.

  “I’m glad you can be so lighthearted about this,” I said, trying not to elevate my voice. “If I make a mistake, and we get caught, I won’t get another chance to free my mot—the Valkyrie Leela.” I did it again! Must stop doing that. Even though this god seemed trustworthy, I’d just met him. “Freeing her is the only reason I’m here. So tell me the combination again, slower this time.”

  “Triangle, square, prism, back to triangle, then noose.” I squinted at the tiny hieroglyphics. The noose was particularly grisly with a limp body hanging from it.

  “Which one is the prism?” I was on my knees, trying to discern which was which so I didn’t make a mistake once I started. There were a ton packed on the dial.

  “The one that looks like a 3-D triangle.” He’d left off the duh .

  “There’s nothing here that fits that description—unless you mean the diamond? Or the inverted heart…with an arrow through it? Or maybe that’s a flaming sword?” I inspected it more closely in the low light as a commotion erupted behind me at the end of the hall.

  Something was storming out of the guard room.

  “Go,” Baldur urged. “Get clear of the cell. Wait until they leave, then come back.”

  “Where do I go?” I glanced around.

  “There’s a small alcove to the right of the landing. It’s just an indent in the stone, but judging by your voice, you’ll fit. Since you’re cloaked, you should be fine. But even though the elves can’t smell you, they can scent white magic, so be careful.”

  I’d already learned that helpful tidbit.

  I didn’t have time to ask him how he knew so much about me by my voice and scent as I hustled toward the stairs. I ducked into the alcove, narrowly avoiding the huge troll as it limped by. Junnal bellowed his disapproval of the escapee, pounding after the injured green guy at a brisk pace, shaking the floor as he went.

  The troll wore a slightly confused expression as it eyed the stairs, seeming shocked it was getting its ass handed to it. It was the leader—the one who had initiated the fight. That had probably never happened. Coffee-colored liquid leaked from several wounds, and its leg was turned at an odd angle.

  The Jotun came up behind it and grabbed it around the neck. With one move, Junnal arched over the stairwell and tossed the troll over the railing. As it fell, it roared, something between rage and fear.

  A long moment passed before we heard him land with a thud.

  Well, if the elves hadn’t known there was unrest on this level, they did now.

  Junnal turned and walked back, coming to a stop right in front of me. I pulled my hood back. He appeared no worse for the wear, aside from a few minor abrasions. “Can you see me through this cloak?”

  He nodded.

  “Are all the trolls down for the count?”

  He nodded again.

  “Super,” I said as I moved out of the alcove. “We have to free a prisoner, and then we can go—”

  He shook his head no, sticking his massive tree trunk of an arm out to stop my progress.

  I put my hands out. “Listen, I know it sounds crazy to spring a prisoner, but you have to hear me out,” I argued. “I found a god who says he can help us.” Junnal cocked his enormous head, giving me the inquiring minds want to know look. So I expounded on the cooked-up details for the breakout plan. “He says his name is Baldur and his mom locked him up. She pays the elves to keep him here against his will. Have you ever heard of such a thing?” I sniffed. “It’s awful! So, there’s this dial thingy, and he knows the code. If we free him, he says he’ll help us locate Leela.” Score one for not starting to use the word mother. “Then we’re out of here before Ingrid and Fen can be too angry I disappeared in the first place.” Finding my speech fairly eloquent, I took a step forward, assuming Junnal would see the logic and agree with me, only to be stopped by the Jotun again as he put his massive hand in front of him, shaking his head no.

  “Why not? He’s being held against his will! That’s inhumane on every level,” I insisted. My voice rose, and I struggled to keep calm. We needed help. “No adult should be kept anywhere without their consent. Fen was treated the same way. Baldur deserves to be free to live his own life.”

  “He’s worried Frigg will take her wrath out on you for springing me.” The voice came from the cell, Baldur having heard me loud and clear. “He’s right, of course. But that shouldn’t stop you. My mother is overprotective in the extreme, and if I’ve learned anything in all my years, it’s that you can’t escape your fate. If I’m destined to die and spend my time in Hel until Ragnarok, so be it. It has to be better than this. The food is horrible, if you can even call it that, and they are very low on sunshine. I haven’t attended good sporting event in years, and my vessel needs a captain. I’m mad with boredom, and I will likely die in this cell if I’m not freed soon. You came just at the right time.”

  “See?” You couldn’t argue with that. “You heard him. We can’t leave him here,” I urged. “It’s his life to lead, not his mother’s. What if Odin decided to lock you up? Would you want me to free you? Because I would.”

  The Jotun bowed his head and lowered his arm, appearing resigned.

  I took a step, smiling at him. “If it makes you feel any better, you can toss him back in his cell if he double-crosses us.” I patted Junnal’s tree trunk of an arm as
I walked toward the cell.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Baldur cracked. “You are my ticket out of this inferno. We gods honor those who do us service. My debt to you will be to find Leela and help you escape, and in the process, I will get to abandon this dreaded landscape forever.”

  I knelt in front of the door for the second time. “Okay, let me take a look at this combination again,” I said through the grate. “When you give me the code, go slow.”

  “Try to hurry. They will find the troll in the dungeon soon enough and raise the alarms.”

  If I made a mistake, we were going to pay dearly. My fingertips brushed the surface, and tingles filtered up into my hand. “This device carries a charge.” It was a statement, not a question. I was coming to understand my body, and it was highly sensitive to electricity of all kinds.

  “It’s made of dark elf magic, which does often carry a charge,” Baldur agreed. “That’s why they will know if you enter the wrong code.”

  “Why aren’t these locks secured by fingerprints or something more technical?”

  “The dark elves don’t have fingerprints.” Baldur chuckled. He politely refrained from calling me stupid. “How old are you? You must be just struck.”

  There was no time to fill him in on my story, so I settled on, “Yes, I’m young. I’m going to start now. You said turn it to each symbol without stopping, correct?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Give me the code.”

  “Triangle, square, prism, triangle, noose.”

  “Triangle,” I said as I moved the dial. “Square. Though this almost looks like a box. It has weird lines behind it.”

  “It’s likely not a square,” Baldur agreed in his affable way, “but it’s the only symbol with four sides.”

  “I’m going to the diamond that kind of looks like a prism,” I told him. “The heart thing just looks wrong.”

  “I’m certain you will get it right.”

  There was laughter in his voice. “What’s so funny?” I landed on the diamond and took a breath before I deftly turned the knob toward the triangle once again.

  “I never thought I’d get out of here, and you being my savior was not in any of my wildest imaginings.”