No Earthly Treason

by Genevra Black

Standing at the top of the servants’ stairs, flanked by two angry guards, was a very unimpressed nickel and copper dwarf in a suit. His eyes were flint as he stared the two intruders down.

  “Men,” he said to the guards beside him, “tell the mistress we have guests.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Before either Cal or Roggvi could react, Marius darted down the hallway. The dwarf barely had enough time to raise his arms and block a hit from the vivid’s plasma blade. When the blow struck his arms, no blood came gushing out, but the skin glowed angrily like ore heated in fire, dented now.

  Of course. He was made of fuckin’ metal. Cal pulled his revolver and put down one of the guards right off the bat, but he’d have to be careful none of the bullets ricocheted off the stupid dwarf.

  Roggvi shouted something in Norse and raised an arm. The hallway began to shake. In a split second, the plaster cracked, and a huge chunk dislodged and went flying at Marius; more fell from the ceiling above Cal as the fissure spread in a mere couple of seconds.

  Marius followed Cal’s lead and danced past Roggvi, narrowly dodging a bullet from the other guard’s pistol before tackling him. Blood painted the shuddering walls as he sliced through the man’s jugular.

  Fuck it. Cal shoved the revolver back into his waistband holster and dove forward, driving his shoulder into the dwarf’s broad form. Hitting him was like hitting a brick wall. He was so damn dense that the blow only staggered him for a moment before he twisted around to strike Cal with a spell—

  A booming, vibrating sound. Without him really knowing what had happened, every muscle in Cal’s body contracted, so intensely and quickly that he was flung down the hall. Spasms flew up and down his arms and legs, and an intense thirst suddenly gripped him.

  He skidded across the waxed wood floor, scraping his skin raw and drawing blood, before his sharp revenant instincts kicked in. Cal had picked himself off the floor and was barreling back into the fray before he even registered that he’d been hit with a bolt of lightning.

  Roggvi had picked his way past the plaster in the wall, and Marius was now deflecting a volley of stone and wood with his glowing shield. Worse, the closer Cal got to the dwarf, the slower he seemed to be moving. The bastard must have had a stone aura up, slowly paralyzing anyone close to him.

  Sure enough, Cal spotted a rock the size of a child’s fist orbiting the dwarf’s head and leaving a little streak of stormy gray in its wake. It was probably the focus of the spell, but Cal wasn’t sure he’d be able to get close enough to snatch it out of the air, or what would happen to his body if he did. He could barely move, now. Sunshine didn’t seem to be faring any better.

  To his surprise, though, Marius glanced up at him and snapped through gritted teeth, “Go!”

  Fucking hell. Cal knew he was right. If he’d been able to use his guns, he could keep his distance while still doing damage—but bullets weren’t only useless here, they were dangerous, and there was clearly no chance of taking Roggvi in hand-to-hand when he was practically turning into a statue. He’d be more useful in the foyer.

  Marius covered Cal as he pushed past the stone aura and rushed to the stairs, but the revenant stopped short.

  An idea sprang into his mind, and he fumbled for his revolver again. His body trembled as his lower extremities were paralyzed completely. In front of him, Marius was seizing up in the same way, no longer able to move his legs. In a few seconds, they would both be turned completely to stone.

  He only had one shot.

  He raised the revolver and aimed for the stone focus, exhaling slowly.

  Bang.

  The bullet hit the little rock, and they ricocheted off each other with a whine. The bullet thumped into the adjacent wall, and the rock dropped to the ground once it was thrown off its orbit, cracked and powerless.

  Cal raced down the stairs, leaving Marius alone.

  Marius ducked to the side and rolled down the hall, putting some distance between himself and Roggvi. The dwarf wasn’t happy that Cal had destroyed his stone focus, and was stirring up another, more powerful spell now.

  As the dwarf wove the spell, a whirlwind of fire and lightning appeared suddenly, roiling next to him. With a flash of lightning, a burly form made of rock and black clouds emerged from within, its eyes two crackling sparks of pure white energy.

  Storm elemental.

  Though he’d never fought one, Marius knew about them. They were pure chaos; one man was no match. The vivid was smart enough not to try. If he could put Roggvi down first, though, the elemental’s connection to Midgard would be severed, and it would disappear.

  Mustering light from within, Marius summoned a full-body shield and dispelled the one at his right wrist. Against something as powerful as a storm elemental, such a large shield would only last a second, the light spread just a little too thin. The elemental was already trundling toward him, veins of lightning crackling across its form, but it was so large that it barely fit in the hallway. Marius’s agility would be his saving grace.

  He only had to avoid getting hit.

  The vivid skated past the elemental, its electric atmosphere making his hairs stand on end. He ground his teeth, sprinting toward Roggvi. As he summoned a ball of golden energy in both hands, he prayed it would find its mark.

  When he released it, it shot down the hall, careening into the dwarf. A hissing sound cut the air, and Marius’s heart lifted as he saw the dwarf falter, clutching his white-hot face.

  While he was distracted, Marius summoned a gleaming lance. Every second he spent fighting with this dwarf was another second uncertain of Edie’s fate. If the Gloaming had her, it was only a matter of time until Sárr showed up to take her. Marius wouldn’t let that happen.

  Roggvi sped toward him, and the vivid roared, lunging. The lance flashed as he buried it in the dwarf’s chest. Marius could hear the dense metal sizzling as the weapon seared through.

  Without warning, something struck him in the side of the head, making his vision spin for a brief second. When things came back into focus, the lance had been dispelled, and he was already instinctively pulling himself to his feet. Roggvi held a large, square hammer in his hand, wreathed in fire.

  Marius could tell from the static in his toes that the storm elemental was upon him. He was literally between a rock and a hard place.

  Annoyance boiled over. It was time to end this.

  With a growl, the dwarf raised the hammer and swung. The corner of it clipped Marius’s shoulder, dangerously close to his head. Heat licked the vivid’s heart. Then, audible rumbling, and vibrations in the roots of his teeth alerted him that the elemental was a half-second from attacking.

  With nowhere else to run, Marius rolled to the side, into Roggvi’s open room. When he looked back at his opponents, he couldn’t help the crazed grin that came to his face.

  The elemental was too big to fit through the door.

  He had bought himself time, but no doubt the elemental had lightning at its disposal. Roggvi needed to die. Now.

  “Come here, dwarf,” Marius rasped, “so I can send you back to the stone.”

  Roggvi, surprisingly nimble for someone in a three-piece suit, charged. The storm elemental swelled and rolled, preparing a spell, and Marius’s heart burned. Sunlight coursed through him, one with him, streaming from his hands and eyes.

  When the dwarf pitched forward to crack Marius’s knee, the vivid seized his head with a snarl. The incandescent magic writhing in his gloved hands surged, melting through the dwarf’s copper hair, allowing Marius to dig his fingers into his skull.

  Roggvi thrashed, but he wasn’t dead yet. Marius held fast, clutching him harder and harder until molten metal poured between his fingers in rivulets.

  Before the heat and power could overwhelm him, the vivid dislodged his fingers from Roggvi’s skull. The dwarf stood for a moment, head misshapen and concave. Handprints blazed yellow on the sides, his metal skin sagging and melted.

  Then, he toppled over, stiff as
a statue.

  The storm elemental fizzled out of existence in a rain of static.

  Breathing heavily, Marius knelt and began to search the dwarf’s body for the ward key. It didn’t take long—it was a thick, flat stone covered in runes, hanging at the end of a watch chain.

  Marius pocketed it and quickly left the room. If the alarm hadn’t been sounded before, it definitely was now. He had to get back to the others.

  When he finally reached the imperial staircase, the ragtag group of Reach had just picked off half a dozen guards. Marius’s heart darkened when he noticed that they weren’t security officers like the others had been; they were clad in black, silver, and raven feathers. New Gloaming. An audible alarm was beeping somewhere in the house, faintly.

  “You get the key?” Cal asked, eyes on Marius. He didn’t have to look at his shotgun while he reloaded it.

  The vivid held up the key and hurried down the stairs, to the elevator. He activated the runes with a touch of magic, and when he waved the stone over the ward, it shimmered and disappeared.

  With a slow exhale, Marius pressed the elevator call button. It lit up, and the floor indicator began to count down. Victory.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. For a moment, he couldn’t tell where the vibration was coming from—then a huge black mass appeared on the staircase landing.

  He didn’t have time to see what it was. It pounced and tackled him to the ground, sending him sliding across the tiles. A sizzling sound rippled through the foyer, and a horrible, caustic smell invaded his nostrils.

  Marius was able to prop himself up on his elbows in time to see the thing dig its claws into Cal, who it had apparently plowed into in one fell swoop along with Marius. Black scales gleamed like an oil slick and yellow eyes glared, panicked, around the room.

  Dragon. No, not big enough to be a dragon. A drake. And judging by the smell, one with poison powers.

  It hopped over Cal, thundering toward Antoniu, Matilda, Sissel, and Fiskbein with its huge jaws open. A rumbling growl shook the room, and a noxious, greenish-yellow cloud poured from its huge mouth.

  The wight and wraith dodged, and Fiskbein clutched the girl, pulling her out of the way of the toxin. Meanwhile, the revenant recovered with startling swiftness, raising his shotgun. Marius pulled himself to his feet as well, but when Cal’s bullet hit home, the drake wheeled around, smashing them both with its powerful tail. They hit the floor again, and Cal’s gun skidded away from him.

  The drake turned, hissed at Fiskbein, and crouched, getting ready to spray its venom again.

  Without warning, Sissel pushed the vættr roughly to the side, putting herself squarely in front of the beast.

  “No!” Cal’s voice.

  Despite the chaos, the girl’s mind seemed to clear, her body eerily still and expression serene. She raised her hand, and for a moment, Marius expected a volley of magic to come screaming from her palm.

  But it didn’t. Instead, the drake ceased hissing and slowly stood from its crouch. Girl and dragon stared at each other for a long time. Then the drake crept closer, lowering its head.

  The room was silent, except for a bizarre grunting noise issuing from the beast. The group watched in awe as Sissel stroked its nose, its tiny crest of horns. After a moment, she opened her arms and hugged its whole head to her body.

  Hesitantly, Marius pulled himself to his feet.

  “What the hell was even that?” Cal breathed, following suit. The front of his chest was coated in dark maroon blood.

  “Huh?” Sissel blinked, seeming to come out of a trance herself. “He was scared. I just told him it was okay and that he had to stop.”

  Marius shook his head. Mind-controlling any kind of dragon was immensely difficult, something masters sometimes never learned to do, but…. “That’s impossible.” He glanced at the others over her shoulder, then back at the drake. “It looks like a Venomgut drake. Even juveniles like this can’t be mind-controlled. It’s why they’re so sought-after as guard animals.”

  Sissel pet its head. After some thought, her expression screwed up. “But it ... it didn’t feel like I controlled him. It was different.”

  Cal retrieved his gun and gave her and the drake a wide berth as he walked back to the rest of the group.

  “You’re bleeding,” Matilda said as he approached, her white brows knit in concern. Marius observed carefully as she tried to reach out to the revenant.

  He waved her off. “I’m fine.” Then, glancing back at the drake, “At least now we have a dragon to guard the elevator while we do what we need to do.”

  “Do you think you can keep the beast controlled for that long?” Fiskbein asked, peering at the girl.

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s not a beast any more than you are. And I told you, bro, I’m not controlling him. Not really….” She looked as confused as everyone else, though, and shook her head. “We’ll stand guard up here.”

  “Antoniu,” Matilda said, turning to the lanky wraith. “Let us see what we can do about disabling any security cameras while they’re downstairs. We don’t need more guards sneaking up on us while we are up here alone.”

  “You’re staying here?” Cal asked her, then quickly added, “Good. We’ll need to move fast down there.”

  Her expression withered slightly, and she muttered, “I’ll take the east wing; you take the west.”

  Antoniu responded by shedding his human skin, melding into the skeletal, ghoulish form of a wraith. He crouched on all fours and bounded off like a starved, twisted dog. Matilda, too, was gone in an instant, dashing to the east wing at an inhuman speed.

  Marius barely suppressed a shudder. That was right—he was working with creatures of darkness. Why was he doing this?

  He was still squinting at where Matilda had disappeared when Cal trotted past him, pushing the call button to open the elevator doors.

  As Marius, Fiskbein, and Cal piled in, Cal addressed Sissel. “All right, kid. You stay here with the dragon. We’ll be right back up … hopefully.” He ran his hand along the panel of buttons, brow creasing. “No basement button.”

  “It must be one of these other ones,” Fiskbein suggested.

  The revenant’s mouth moved, counting the floors silently before pausing and crouching. “Right here. There’s a button for the sixth floor, but there’s no sixth floor.”

  He jammed it with his thumb, but it didn’t depress.

  A growl. “Jesus H. Christ, we don’t have time to stand around here and figure out how to work this shitty freakin’ Wonkavator!”

  “Let me see,” Marius muttered, switching positions with Cal. He crouched and examined the button, tapping on it himself.

  Hollow. It was probably supposed to be opened and then pressed. His eyes traced the shape of it, catching on an irregular detail—a small lip on one side. He managed to get his gloved finger under it enough to pop it open with a metallic crack.

  But there was no button, only a round, empty hole.

  “Fuck me,” Cal grumbled behind him.

  “No, wait,” the vivid said thoughtfully. “There has to be some way…. They wouldn’t hide this for no reason.”

  It could be an opening for something, but what could possibly—?

  He opened his palm to look at the ward key, then held it up to the hole, looking between them. Perfect size.

  With a deep breath, he lined the key up and pushed it in.

  For a few seconds, nothing. Then the runes on its surface lit up. Marius stood and exhaled slowly, allowing himself a smile. Another victory. Now they had only to ride down to the basement, grab Edie, and leave.

  The doors closed with a soft ding, and the elevator jerked to a start.

  Then it began to free fall.

  Chapter Thirty

  The smell of fresh night air stirred Edie from her deep sleep. Had she gotten free, somehow? Was the nightmare finally over?

  When she opened her eyes, her heart sank. Surrounding her were familiar inky shapes against a fa
miliar gray background. Snow fell silently before her, the only sound a slight ringing in her right ear.

  Slowly, she stood and dusted the snow off her clothes—the same cloak she was always wearing when this dream began. There was no reason to wait for the wolf to appear. She left the clearing and stepped into the forest, picking up her pace the farther she went. If she could get this over with, get to the point of the dream where she always woke up, she could get back to the waking world.

  The second she thought it, she couldn’t quite remember why that was so important. Something was happening there. But what?

  It hurt to think about. She’d think about it later….

  Someone was whispering nearby. No, not someone. A river. Yes, she remembered.

  Somewhere far behind her, the wolf howled. Usually, when she had this dream, she felt the urge to follow the howl, to find the wolf or call it to her. Usually, she felt slow and confused. It had improved the more she’d had the dream, but nothing like this. She now felt as focused as if she were awake. She knew the dream was almost over. It must be. There was no need to worry about the wolf.

  The river was getting louder.

  The snow was falling heavier.

  However, it didn’t disorient her like it had before. The laser focus told her to keep going forward, forward, even when it seemed like the forest didn’t want her to go any further.

  When something screeched in her ear, she stopped dead, gasping instinctively. Something soft and strangely muscular, like a big black hand, beat the side of her face rapidly. She ducked and covered her face. It didn’t hurt, but the sound was startling and bothered her ears.

  With a whoosh, the sensation was gone, and when she uncovered her face, she saw a bird flying away from her. A crow. Her dad had taught her the difference between a crow’s and a raven’s tail once, a long time ago.

  The crow fluttered onto a nearby tree branch and tucked its wings neatly. It stared at her, expectant. Waiting for her?

  She crept forward, and the crow took off again, flying ahead. Less than a minute of walking later, the trees suddenly cleared, and she found herself on the grassy bank of a loud river. Fifteen feet or so to her left stood a small arched bridge. Far off in the distance, she could see the faint lights of a village.