by S. T. Bende
A massive, winged beast swept into the cavern. Its green scales glinted in the light of Torstein’s flaming sconces. The creature circled twice, exhaling mighty bursts of fire that lit the ever-shrinking space. The cave had seemed so vast when we’d entered. But now that we shared it with a frost monster and a fire-breathing dragon . . . we needed to put this battle to bed. Fast.
Rufus blew past the frost monster. He tucked his legs to his chest as he sailed over Janna, Brigga, and Raynor. Then, he dropped down and skimmed the surface of the water. A massive wave washed over me, dousing me in its salty spray and nearly pushing me into the portal. Axel reached out to steady me. I held tight to his hand until the tidal wave was no more than a series of sloshes. By then, Rufus was already licking Axel’s back. The iguana-turned-dragon proudly thumped his tail against the side of the cave. He seemed to be quite pleased with himself.
“That’s it, Rufus. Who’s a good boy? Yes, you’re a good boy.” Axel scratched Rufus’ chin.
“You have a dragon?” Bodil said breathlessly.
Axel turned to me. “You okay?”
“I’m still on this side of the portal, so ja.” I grimaced. “I’m doing great.”
A fierce roar erupted from the whirlpool. Frosty was slowly clawing his way free. Janna, Brigga and Raynor rushed forward. Their weapons were up, leaving me with no doubt that they’d go at Frosty with everything they had.
But would it be enough?
“Climb aboard.” Axel patted Rufus’ side. The dragon took a knee, and Axel scaled the shiny, green leg before settling onto Rufus’ back.
I paled.
“I’m going to need a second up there,” Axel said calmly. “And time is of the essence, so move it, Shieldmaiden.”
He held out his hand and I reluctantly let him pull me up.
“I hate flying,” I whispered.
“I know you do,” he whispered back. “We’ll make this fast and painless. Okay?”
I swallowed hard and drew my sword. “Sure thing.”
“Rufus. Fly.” Axel kicked the dragon with his heels. I threw my shield arm around his waist and held tight as Rufus launched into the air. Axel was a strong rider—the best we had back home. And this wouldn’t be nearly as terrifying as my first flight—we couldn’t go higher than the cave’s ceiling, for one thing. But neither fact stopped the churning in my stomach.
Some of us just weren’t meant to fly.
“Stab the monster on our first pass,” Axel shouted. His voice was barely discernable over the roar of the wind in my ears. “Aim for his eye, if we can get that close. If we blind him, it gives the ground team a better chance of taking him out.”
“Got it.” I rotated my sword in a downward-facing grip and waited for Axel’s call.
“On my mark . . .” Axel steered the dragon toward our target. “Rufus. Descend!”
Wind blasted my cheeks as the dragon shot toward the ground.
“Flame!” Axel commanded. Fire burst from Rufus’ mouth. It enveloped the frost monster, who let out a mighty shriek. “Ingrid, now!”
I slammed my sword arm downward. When it hit its target, a thick, sticky liquid splashed across my arm. I pulled my hand back as Rufus flew away, taking a small amount of pride in the knowledge that Frosty was down one eyeball.
Now to close the deal.
“Circling back!” Axel shouted. He turned Rufus around for a second pass. Below me, my teammates fought for their lives. Between frosty roars came the clang of metal on ice and the woosh of Torstein’s light beams. But I didn’t allow myself to look. Instead, I kept my focus on my target. As Axel ordered Rufus to dive, then flame, I raised my sword, braced my arm, and struck.
This time, the sticky liquid splattered against my face.
“We got him,” I called.
“Good!” Axel yelled back. “One more fire pass should seal it. He’s half of his former self.”
Thank gods.
It took two more flaming flybys to drop the monster to his knees. By that point, our ground team had things well under control. Torstein had stirred another whirlpool—this one holding Frosty firmly in place. Continued blasts from Rufus heated the water enough to melt down the creature’s legs. All we needed was one . . . more . . .
“Augh!” My arms shook with the shock of driving my sword into Frosty’s head. A resonant crack echoed through the cave, and the frost monster’s head split neatly in two. It toppled forward, each piece landing on either side of Raynor and sending a massive spray of saltwater splashing up the cave wall. I ducked my head as Axel circled one final time. When we buzzed the headless Frosty, Axel ordered Rufus to strike. The dragon slammed his tail into Frosty’s chest, eliciting an explosion that sent ice chunks raining across the cavern. I hurriedly swapped hands, holding Axel’s waist with my sword arm and raising my shield to protect us from the razor-sharp shards. When the worst of the shower was over, I carefully lifted my head and took in the scene.
Below us, massive pieces of ice littered the seawater. Torstein dropped his hands, his whirlpool slowing around the now dismantled frost monster. Raynor withdrew his sword from an errant, frosty limb. He reached out to Brigga, who looked up from her furious thigh-jabbing. She stepped back and wiped her brow, relief evident on her delicate features. And near the portal, a shell-shocked Bodil cupped her hand over her mouth.
“Is he really gone?” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Am I . . . finally free?”
“He’s dead,” Torstein confirmed. The light mage trudged forward, closing the distance between himself and the girl. Axel landed the dragon, and I slid gratefully from its back to plant my feet on solid—albeit watery—ground.
“That was . . .” Brigga exhaled heavily. “. . . something.”
“You can say that again,” Raynor muttered.
Bodil bent at the waist. She rested her elbows on her knees, breathing heavily. “Thank you. Thank you for getting me out of that . . . that . . .”
“I can only imagine how terrible it was.” Torstein glanced at the portal. “But the doorway is still open, and those crystals are a liability. We have to get you to—”
“Augh!” Bodil’s spine stiffened as she bolted upright. Her fists clenched into tight balls, and her face pinched in an awkward contortion. She looked to be in unbelievable agony.
“What’s happening?” Brigga gasped. “Torstein, help her!”
The light mage leapt forward. His eyes widened as he reached down and pulled something narrow and white from the back of the girl’s thigh.
“Bodil,” he said carefully. “What do you feel?”
“Pain,” she groaned. “It’s shooting from my leg into my—oh, gods!” She clutched at her heart. Her fingers crooked and she clawed at her chest. “Get it out!”
“Torstein!” I screamed.
The light mage scooped the girl into his arms. He dropped to a knee, draping Bodil over his leg and cradling her in one arm to keep her head above water. With his other hand, he examined the thing he’d extracted from her thigh.
“What is it?” Janna asked.
“An . . . ice dagger.” Torstein closed his eyes. He tightened his grip on the weapon, breathing slowly as he did whatever it was that gave him the knowledge to make his assessment. “It’s laced with dark magic.”
“What does that mean?” Axel slid off of Rufus’ back.
“He said he can’t fix dark magic,” I said quietly. “He’s not going to be able to heal her.”
Torstein opened his eyes. He met my gaze, a thousand heartaches locked into one single look. “No,” he whispered. “I can’t.”
Bodil released her hold on her chest. She reached up and cupped Torstein’s cheek. “At least I didn’t die in that frozen hellscape.”
“I’m—I’m sorry.” Torstein passed Janna the ice dagger. Then he ran his fingertips along the air beside Bodil’s body. When he’d finished, he drew his hand up and snapped his fingers. A white film settled atop the girl’s shaking torso. “I can’t heal you . . .
but I can keep you comfortable until . . .”
“Thank you for freeing me.” Bodil’s shaking subsided with each ragged breath. “Do you know how long I have to live?”
“I don’t,” Torstein said sadly. “Dark ailments work in different ways. It could be moments or days.”
“I understand.” We watched in silence as Bodil struggled to sit. When her eyes locked on the cave’s narrow entrance, a faint smile played at her pale lips. She held up one hand, as if trying to reach for something. I followed the line of her pointed finger. A stocky figure stood behind the portal, backlit by the sheen of the distant moon. It moved forward, no more than a shadow until the cave lights shone on his face. Shock colored his jowly features as he approached.
The rest of us drew our weapons.
“Sverrir?” Bodil whispered. “Is it really you?”
The dark mage dropped to his knees. He was still a full dragon-length away. “Bodil?”
“Stand back.” Janna jumped in front of the girl. She spoke over her shoulder when she said, “He’s dangerous now, Bodil. The darkest mage our world has ever seen. He’s trying to destroy everything. We won’t let him hurt you.”
“My Sverrir would never—” Bodil was overtaken by a raw, rasping cough.
“He would,” Torstein said softly. “But we’ll protect you.”
I stared as the dark mage stalked slowly along the cave wall. His shoulders were tense and his fists balled as he took heavy steps, each producing an angry splash of seawater. His eyes swept from Bodil to Torstein to the black hole before returning to his lost love’s crumpled form. Fury flashed in his eyes as he studied the way Torstein hovered over her. I could sense the moment he came to the wrong conclusion.
“Axel,” I murmured. “He thinks—"
“You!” His rage-filled face turned on Torstein. “You did this to her!”
“She was struck by a weapon that came from there.” Torstein pointed to the portal. “It’s laced with dark magic, which you know I cannot heal. But perhaps you could—”
“Dark magic is irreversible!” Sverrir’s agonized scream sent chills along my spine.
“We have to get her out of here,” I hissed at Axel.
The assassin raised his wrist to his mouth. “Rufus,” he whispered into the bracelet. “Move in for a pickup. Now.”
The dragon backed up so he stood directly behind us.
“Climb on,” Axel ordered. “Brigga, Raynor, Janna, go. Ingrid and I will cover until—”
“Noooo!” Sverrir’s rage exploded. He stormed forward, red sparks flying between his fingertips. He turned them on the portal, sending glowing, red lines at its edges. They laced along the perimeter, firing into the darkness before knitting together and tugging the hole closed. While Sverrir worked, I waved my teammates toward our escape dragon. Janna, Raynor, and Brigga climbed quickly aboard our ride. But the light mage lingered behind.
“Torstein,” I hissed. “We have to go. Now.”
“Maybe she can stop him from—”
“Now, Torstein. I mean it.”
Torstein nodded. He transferred the dual-crystal necklace from Bodil’s neck to his own, scooped the girl up in his arms, and carried her onto Rufus. By the time Sverrir had finished with the portal, we were already flying to safety. We raced for the exit, making our way past the rocky arches that guarded the second entrance and soaring up the side of the cliff. I barely dared to breathe as Rufus touched down on the grass, and waited patiently for the six of us to disembark. The second his feet hit the ground, Torstein raised his palms to the compound’s perimeter. No doubt he was solidifying its protections to minimize Sverrir’s chance of entry. Even so, I wouldn’t feel safe until we’d secured the crystals . . . where? Our vault had been compromised, our perimeter breached, and we’d left Sverrir more determined than ever to destroy us. By all accounts, we were worse off than we’d been at the day’s start.
At least we’d escaped with our lives.
But what if we didn’t next time? What if Sverrir found us again, and Axel did something stupid—like throwing himself in front of a shot in order to protect us? If Torstein really couldn’t heal dark magic, and Axel risked his life to save one of ours . . .
If I ever lost him . . .
A fierce tremor wracked my body as I tried to shake the thought free. I had enough to worry about without dwelling on what-ifs. Like how we could possibly keep our newfound crystals safe.
And what were we going to do with the dying love of our dark mage’s life?
Chapter 10
WHILE TORSTEIN, JANNA AND Axel took care of our crystals, Brigga and I explained our situation to Bodil. We’d settled her into a guest cottage. The multi-talented Magnus had been tasked with nurse duty, and Raynor helped him set up a series of medical apparatus Magnus claimed would monitor Bodil’s vital signs. While they worked, Brigga and I plumped pillows, prepared tea, and arranged a tray with fruits, breads, and meat.
“You must be hungry,” Brigga urged. “Eat something so you have some energy.”
“I’m not sure what good it would do,” Bodil said sadly. “I just hope I can use what time I have left to help Sverrir change his course. Did that mage . . . Torstar?”
“Torstein,” I corrected as I slipped another pillow beneath her head. She lay calmly in the large bed by the window, surrounded by white bedding. She looked even paler than she’d been in the cave.
“Did Torstein say my Sverrir is going to destroy the world?”
“He’s trying.” Brigga grimaced. We quickly filled Bodil in on the man Sverrir had become after she’d disappeared.
“I can’t believe . . .” Bodil shook her head. “No matter. I will do all I can to help you stop him. I won’t have him remembered as the darkest mage to ever grace this earth.”
“We could use all the help we can get,” I admitted. “But I’m afraid Sverrir is a lost cause. Your energy would be better spent focusing on healing.”
“Torstein said I can’t be healed.” Bodil didn’t blink. “But I’ll eat. The longer I hold out, the more I can be of use.”
“I don’t understand.” I buttered a slice of bread and passed it over. “How could you love someone who’s so . . .”
“Evil?” Brigga added softly.
I shot her an admonishing look. “Shh!”
“He wasn’t always like this.” Bodil took the tiniest of bites. After centuries in an ice prison, did she really have the appetite of a bird? “He was so kind when I knew him. Honest. Virtuous. He wanted only the best for the people he loved, and he’d have done anything in his power to see that they got it.”
“That’s not the Sverrir we know.” I poured water into a glass and set it on the table beside the bed. “I’m sorry—this must all come as such a shock.”
“Pain changes people.” Bodil took another nibble of bread. “There were many times when I thought I’d lose my mind in that frozen nightmare. But I thought of Sverrir often . . . I knew he’d want me to be strong.”
Bodil struggled to sit up, reaching for the water glass with a trembling arm. I quickly lifted it for her and brought it to her lips.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. When she’d taken a sip, I set the glass back on the table.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’m sad for what Sverrir’s become,” she said honestly. “He was a good man once. And even if he can’t be that man anymore, I know a part of him still remembers who he truly is. Hopefully, I can help you reach that”—her arms stretched overhead as she let out a big yawn—“that part of him.”
Brigga and I exchanged a look. I quickly moved the tray to the bedside table while Brigga pulled the comforter over Bodil’s chest. “You must be exhausted,” Brigga said. “We’ll leave the food here and let you rest. Just call for us if there’s anything that you need.”
“Thank you.” Bodil yawned again. “You’re all so kind.”
I tiptoed toward the door with Brigga close on my heels. By the time we step
ped into the cottage’s living area, Bodil was already snoring gently.
Raynor and Magnus looked up from the couch where they were fidgeting with a large, illuminated box.
“How is she?” Raynor asked.
“Exhausted,” I said. “But she doesn’t seem to be in pain.”
“Torstein took care of that,” Brigga said. “And Magnus, you’ll let us know if anything changes?”
The assistant nodded briskly. “I will report to Torstein should the patient’s status change. I presume he’ll keep you apprised.”
“I’m sure he will.” I dropped into the chair beside the window, trying not to think about everything Bodil had been through. Of how she’d been ripped away from her love; been kept apart from half of her heart for so many years. Her pain must have been overwhelming. A shiver surged along my spine as fear raced through me. If I’d been in her shoes, would I have been able to stay strong? Now that I knew what it was to be with Axel, if anything were to ever happen to him . . .
How could I possibly survive?
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. It had been a long night.
And gods only knew what the day would bring.
The sun had just peeked over the skyline of Los Angeles when Torstein dropped us off on The Row. Exhaustion blurred the edges of my consciousness as I stumbled up the steps of Kappa Mu and struggled to forget the sheer volume of atrocities I’d experienced in the past ten hours. Not only had we battled a frost monster, recovered two crystals, rescued a thousand-plus-year-old chieftess, and set a dark mage on an even darker path, but we’d managed a minor dragon malfunction. Axel had found himself unable to shrink Rufus back to his standard iguana size. And Torstein was so drained from the evening’s events, he needed a nap before fixing Axel’s wrist controller. Our mage had taken the bracelet, promising to fix it by the day’s end. Then he’d driven us home before heading back to his compound, where he’d hidden a full-sized Rufus inside a hastily constructed tent.
Gods willing, the dragon stayed put.
We slugged past a perky-eyed Kenzi, apologized for skipping yoga—again—and plopped facedown our beds. My eyes were so heavy that I didn’t even untie my boots before I passed out.
