by Linsey Hall
She nodded.
“Did you give me the power of discerning the truth?” I asked.
“I did, but you are weak with it. Unable to interpret. That will take practice.”
“You what?” Utgard-Loki bellowed.
She smacked him on the arm, a dismissive gesture more than a violent one. “I am a guest, Utgard-Loki, and I do as I see fit. The gods support Bree—most of us, at least. We assisted her with that challenge—though some of us made it more difficult for her as well.”
I remembered the water pressing in on me. And the lightning striking. “The water and lightning?”
She nodded. “You need to prove that you’re worthy of your gifts. By now, word has gotten out about your request for the rest of your powers. Some of the gods are testing you, seeing if you are the master of your magic.”
I guessed that was fair, but I didn’t like it.
At least I’d passed. Or felt like I’d passed, anyway.
I turned my face up toward Utgard-Loki. “Who was the old woman? Death?”
“Old age. It gets everyone in the end.”
“She hasn’t gotten me yet.”
“No, she hasn’t.”
“So, I’m not dinner, then. I did well enough that I didn’t lose.”
“You could still be dinner,” he grumbled.
“We made a deal,” I insisted. “You have to live up to it.”
“The other gods and immortals would not look kindly on you betraying your word,” Cade said. “I know how important your honor is to you.”
He sounded so damned reasonable. Persuasive.
Utgard-Loki seemed mollified. “Fine. You didn’t win, but you didn’t lose. So you can ask Syn one question. Not three.”
She looked at him with an arched brow. “You tell me what to do?”
He sighed. “I ask.”
She nodded imperiously. “Good.” She looked down at us. “We will meet in my quarters.”
“Thank you.”
She picked me up by the back of my jacket and I scowled. This sucked.
But since I was hoping to sweet-talk some more answers out of her, I kept my mouth shut as she carried Cade and me from the room. I waved to Utgard-Loki as we passed through the huge doors.
Syn set us down. Magic swirled around her, and she shrank down until she was our size.
“This way.” She gestured for us to follow, and we did.
A few minutes later, we stopped in a beautifully decorated room that had probably been a broom closet for the giants but made a massive suite for a human-sized person. Windows had been carved out of the wall, but because the stone wall was so thick—properly done, for a giant’s castle—there appeared to be a tunnel between the glass and the actual room.
“You seek Idun?” Syn turned, her glittering blue dress matching the blue decor in the room. The whole space was done in blue silks and pale white wood, suiting her.
“We do. Odin and Frigg are growing old. The other gods must be, too.”
She touched her face, and I realized that she’d expertly applied makeup to cover the wrinkles and age spots. I hated that she was suffering, but that meant she had something at stake here, too.
“I need to find her so that the gods will grant me the rest of my powers. Without them, I’ll never defeat the Rebel Gods.”
“Evildoers,” she scolded.
I wanted to ask what she knew about them, but didn’t want to waste my question.
“I am not a seer,” she said. “So I cannot see into the future. There may not be much I can do for you. But I can tell you if something is true or false. So don’t waste your question.”
“Okay.” I looked at Cade. “Any ideas?”
He shook his head.
The thing that we most wanted to know was whether or not she was here like Mímir said—and that was all that Syn could truly answer. “Is Idun here now or has she been in the past?”
“She is not, and never has been.”
“Damn. Why did Mímir send us here, then?”
Her eyes sharpened. “Mímir?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Know him, but don’t trust him.”
Exactly what the fox and the eagle had said. Don’t trust the wise man. But we had trusted him, and he’d sent us here. To a place where we’d nearly died and Idun had never been. Why would he have done that?
A thought tugged at my mind.
“What is Mímir?” I asked. “He’s not god of wisdom, is he?”
“He is not. He is a Jötunn.”
“But he doesn’t live in Jötunheimr.”
“They do not want him here. He’s of the smaller variety, so this place isn’t built for him. And he has never been fond of his own kind.”
Oh, fates. I looked at Cade. Interest gleamed in his eyes. And suspicion.
“Mímir sent us here to die.” An idea flared to life. “Which he would do because he stole Idun. He can’t fight us with his current body, so he had to get rid of us.”
Syn’s sharp gaze met my own. “A body? Really?”
“He’s built himself a body using magic.” My mind whirled.
“The apples are giving his new body strength,” Cade said. “Like the fox said. The apples aren’t only for immortality. They’re for strength as well. They’re keeping his borrowed body alive.”
A memory tugged. “The splash in the well. Maybe that’s where Idun is. Maybe that’s why Odin can’t see her from his throne.”
“It seems that you don’t need me,” Syn said. “Because that sounds very likely.”
I turned to her. “Wait. I do need you, though. This power you gave me… How do I use it?”
“It’s not like other gods’ powers. Not as straightforward as creating lightning or using your strength. It will allow you to interpret the truthfulness of someone’s statement. And in times of great need, it may allow you to see that illusions are not true.”
“Like Jörmungandr the house cat?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “The more you use it, the stronger it may become. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never given my power to anyone before.”
“Thank you for giving it to me.”
“I believe in you, Bree Blackwood. I think that you will become the master of your magic. And with it, you will defeat the Rebel Gods.”
Oh fates, I hoped she was right. Because I had a long way to go before either of those things happened.
12
Fortunately, Syn gave us a ride back to the portal that would escort us from Jötunheimr back to Mímir’s well. It was vastly superior to ride on her shoulders. If I was never carried by the scruff of my neck again, it would be too soon.
The view from up there was fabulous, too. In the distance, I could see Hraesvelgr, the giant eagle, soaring high in the air. Every time he flapped his wings, a breeze rustled my hair. I also spotted the giant fox, asleep where he had been earlier.
“This way, they can’t pester me for their apples,” I said.
“Aye, this is the way to travel.” Cade looked up at Syn’s face. “Thank you for the ride!”
“I don’t mind.” She strode through the forest, her size more at scale with the huge trees.
When she dropped us off, she leaned down. “Remember—Mímir is tricky. He has to be, to survive. So keep your wits about you.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“No—thank you. We need Idun and her apples.” She touched her cheek, and like before, I could see the makeup if I looked closely. “I’m glad that you were clever enough to determine who abducted her.”
“Mímir was clever, trying to drive us away. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who planted the story that a Jötunn abducted her.”
“Likely, he did. He doesn’t look like one, after all. No one would suspect him.”
“Well, I do.” I grinned. “And now we’re going to go rescue Idun.”
“Safe travels.” She turned and left.
I pressed my fingertips to the
comms charm at my throat, and the magic ignited. “Ana? Rowan?”
“Bree!” Ana’s voice echoed through. “We found the crystals!”
“Oh, excellent.”
“Have you got all your power yet?”
“No, but hopefully soon.”
“We’ll be ready when you do. Hedy is preparing the spell that will help us feed our magic into the crystals, then we should be ready to set up the ambush.”
“Perfect.” All I had to do was rescue Idun. “I’ll be back soon, I hope. Just wish me luck.”
“Good luck. We’re all rooting for you.”
“Thanks.” I grinned, and removed my fingertips. The magic faded. I held out my hand to Cade. “Ready to go get Idun?”
“Absolutely.”
We stepped onto the wide, flat root that was the strange portal leading down to Mímir’s well. The ether sucked us in immediately, sending us on a whirlwind ride down the side of the tree. The wind whipped at my hair, and my stomach leapt into my throat.
By the time we reached the bottom, my head was spinning. I clutched at Cade, catching my breath. He was looking a bit green about the gills as well.
“The magic here is intense,” he said.
“Understatement.” I stepped off the root, surveying our surroundings.
The massive boulders loomed on all sides, tumbling around the base of Yggdrasil and providing many places to hide. Shadows stretched long against the ground, though I had no idea where they were coming from, since I couldn’t see a sun. I wasn’t even sure if there was a sun around Yggdrasil.
Cade joined me, his head cocked as he listened. “Where do you think he’ll be?”
“No idea.” I engaged Heimdall’s power of hearing, creeping toward a boulder and trying to stay in the shadows. “He may have been alerted to our arrival. That portal may give off some magic when it’s in operation.”
Cade joined me, crouched low against the stone. He was in hunter mode, and I could almost see the wolf through his skin.
I tried to envision where the well had been. About fifty yards from here, hidden amongst the boulders, if I was remembering properly.
Something flashed out of the corner of my eye. A green potion bomb exploded against the boulder at my side.
I ducked as Cade drew his shield from the ether, concealing us. I’d been too slow. The green liquid had flecked my face and neck. It burned like acid—hell, it probably was acid—and I winced, wiping it away.
“To the right!” Cade said.
I turned to look, peering over the edge of his shield and searching the shadows in the direction that the potion bomb had flown from. Mímir didn’t have a lot of magic, so the potion bombs made sense.
My hearing picked up the faintest trace of his heartbeat—irregular and inhuman. Who knew what kind of heart he had in his pieced-together body?
I drew my own shield and crept forward hurriedly, following the beat of the heart. It moved away from us, and I quickened my pace, adrenaline racing through my veins. Cat and mouse—except the mouse was armed with some mean-ass potion bombs.
When a rope tugged at my ankle, my mind blanked in shock.
It jerked me upward, tugging me upside down until I dangled ten feet above the ground. A scream strangled in my throat, but I bit it back—no need to let Mímir know that his trap had worked.
“Hang on!” Cade whispered.
Blood rushed to my head as I hung upside down with my heart thundering in my ears. The rope cut into my ankle. I kept my shield up, frantically trying to figure out where Mímir was.
Cade scaled a huge boulder, then drew his sword and leapt. He flew through the air gracefully and sliced his blade through the rope that kept me aloft.
I flailed in midair, managing to land on my hands and knees instead of my head.
Cade landed next to me.
“Good work,” I whispered, scrambling to my feet and brushing the dirt off my hands.
Something exploded against my back and panic flared. Fast as I could, I stripped my jacket off. Cade helped, yanking it from my hands and flinging the acid-covered leather away from us. My back burned like hell where it had soaked through, but the damage was minimal.
We darted away, shields raised, and found cover in a crevice between two rocks. We crouched low, raising our shields to protect us from his acid bombs.
Mímir’s heartbeat sounded in the distance. Maybe ten yards away. Twenty? It was hard to say without knowing how loud it should actually be. Since it wasn’t human, I couldn’t tell.
A splash sounded.
“Hear that?” I whispered.
“Aye. Just like before.”
“She’s in the well. And he’s trying to distract us.” I peered over my shield, but could only make out boulders and a huge tree root twisting around them. “Can you distract him while I search for Idun?”
“Aye.”
I kissed him, my heart thundering with a strange combo of fight anxiety and attraction. I liked Cade in fight mode—but that was not what I should be focusing on right now. I darted away, keeping my footsteps silent.
Behind me, Cade shouted, “Hey, Mímir! Is that the best you’ve got?”
I sprinted silently, listening for Mímir’s heartbeat or footsteps. They sounded softly in the distance. He was running toward Cade.
Worry crept into my mind, but I shoved it away. I’d always worry for Cade—hard not to, when I loved him—but he could handle this.
And I had a job to do.
I reached the stone well, which was larger than I remembered. Twenty feet across, at least. Wide enough for me to fly out of, thank fates. But the descent would be trickier. I hadn’t mastered that.
I leaned over the edge and caught sight of stone blocks protruding from the walls. Bingo. They’d make great handholds.
Quick as I could, I stowed my shield in the ether, scrambled onto the well wall, and climbed in, grabbing onto the stone handholds that had seen a lot of action over the years. This had to be how Mímir got in, too.
I scrambled down the wall, deeper into the cool dark. It smelled of water and moss. Magic swirled on the air as I climbed down. Strange, since Mímir didn’t have much to speak of.
But his wisdom came from this well, didn’t it?
A splash sounded below.
Idun?
I looked down, just in time to see an enormous sea serpent shoot out of the water, headed straight for me. Its fangs glinted in the light, and its breath reeked of dead bodies.
Oh shit!
My heart jumped.
All I had was a puny dagger. I didn’t bother drawing it. Didn’t have time, anyway. I just pressed myself against the stone and squeezed my eyes closed.
The beast’s head slammed into me, but his fangs didn’t puncture. The blow crushed me against the stone wall, and I tightened my grip, trying desperately not to fall off.
One of the monster’s fangs caught in the waistband of my pants, scraping against my skin. As gravity dragged the creature backward, it pulled me with it. I lost my grip on the wall and plummeted, still attached to the serpent.
We crashed into the water. It closed over my head, cold and sharp. Panic tightened in my chest. I flailed and kicked, beating at the serpent until its fang released my waistband. I kicked away, smacking the creature in the face, and pushed up through the water.
My head broke the surface, and I gasped, my heart thundering a wild cadence.
Holy fates.
I kicked, my head spinning from the fall and the lack of oxygen.
The creature was under me. I could feel it in the water, my magic sensing how it slithered down below. It was about to strike, to burst upward and devour me in one bite.
Icy fear pierced me.
Think.
I looked around, frantic, and caught sight of an open door located partway up the well’s shaft. I must have missed it as I was plummeting with the serpent.
Quickly, I called on my magic, forcing the water to carry me upward. I tried to u
se it to push the serpent down, but I had no idea if it worked. The water rose quickly, forcing me toward the entrance to the well.
Right as I passed the doorway, I grabbed it and scrambled in. A loud hiss sounded from behind me, and I looked back, spotting the serpent’s bright eyes staring right at me.
Down!
I commanded the water to rush downward. It did, dragging the serpent along with it. The beast’s fangs caught on the edge of the stone wall, scraping against the rock as it tried to cling on. I scrambled over and kicked it in the nose, shoving it off the ledge.
Then I fell backward, panting.
Holy fates.
I struggled to catch my breath. That had been a wild ride. Shaking, I climbed to my feet.
The passage was short and unlit, but the room beyond glowed with golden light. I drew my dagger and shield for good measure, and crept quietly down the hall. Shouts echoed from above. Cade must be harassing Mímir, trying to distract him.
Keep it up.
The magic smelled dark down here, evil in a way that I hadn’t smelled from up above.
As soon as I stepped into the main room of Mímir’s house, smoke flashed. It exploded from all angles, clogging my lungs and blinding me. Coughing, I staggered backward.
Right into the grip of a huge person. Massive arms wrapped around me, and my heart jumped into my throat. The arms were covered with scales, the fingers tipped with claws. They dug into my side, pain flaring as blood welled.
Shit!
I dropped my weight heavily, surprising the creature so that it loosened its grip. It growled, a low sound that sent fear streaking through me.
“Go for the stomach!” a feminine voice cried.
I spun and struck out with my dagger, following the advice and plunging my blade into the monster’s middle. My attacker wore armor, but it was damaged right in the stomach. I diverted my blade a half-inch, and stabbed right through the hole in the armor, sinking into skin.
The creature roared, and I looked up, catching sight of burning red eyes and long black horns.
Demon.
Here to guard Idun.
I yanked my blade free, shoving the demon in the chest. He stumbled backward, clutching his stomach. I shoved him again, determined to get him into the well. That would keep the serpent distracted.
We were only halfway down the hall when he rallied, yanking his arms away and drawing a huge sword from the sheath at his side. He swung out, and I raised my shield. The blade clanged against it, sending vibrations up my arm.
