A Midwinter Fantasy

by Leanna Renee Hieber; L. J. McDonald; Helen Scott Taylor

He cast her a startled glance. “Everything? What a horrifying prospect.”

  Their voices echoed around the empty chamber. The dirty throne sat at the far end of the room like a malignant growth on the shiny white ice. She had expected to be scared, but her father’s presence gave her strength. She was even looking forward to seeing Vidar’s father get his comeuppance.

  “How will we find Odin?” she asked.

  “He knows we’re here,” Troy said, setting a leisurely pace down the room while his gaze flicked between the various entries and exits. “By the time we reach the throne, he will have arrived.”

  When they had twenty feet left to walk, the door on the back wall opened. Huginn and Muninn emerged before standing aside to flank the door. Odin stepped out. He glared at Troy and Sonja, then scurried toward his throne, his uneven gait revealing a limp as his staff clacked on the ice.

  He dropped onto the throne and heaved himself back with a grunt. His single golden eye gleamed malevolently beneath a bushy gray eyebrow. He rapped his staff on the ground. Huginn and Muninn dashed forward to take up positions on either side of the dais.

  Both henchmen wore gold rings. Did Odin control everyone who served him with magic?

  Vidar’s brother Thor lumbered through the door, clutching a gleaming blue crystal pod beneath his meaty arm. He deposited it on the ground at Odin’s feet and stepped back. Sonja squinted at it, trying to make out what the blue crystal thing was. Realization hit and she froze. A baby’s crib.

  Her fingers dug into the silky fabric of her father’s sleeve. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Troy covered her tense hand with his own. “Don’t let him play on your fears.” Halting ten feet in front of the throne, he gently disengaged Sonja’s hand from his arm. She expected her father to explain why they’d come and make demands. Instead, he became inhumanly still, an aura of menace filling the silence.

  Odin pulled a leather bag from inside his coat. He dug in a hand and scattered wooden pieces across the ice beside the crib. Leaning forward, he scanned the runes. “Threaten me all you will, Troy. I have you trumped,” he announced.

  A searing spike of pain shot up Sonja’s arm from the ring. She yelped. Her father curled his fingers around her hand, enclosing the ring. The pain ceased abruptly, and heat flowed up her arm, washing away the ache and easing her fear.

  “Hurt my daughter again, and I will destroy Valhalla and all within.”

  “Even you can’t remove the ring from her hand,” Odin crowed. With a defiant glance, he rested one dirt-encrusted bare foot on the Crystal Crib. He was taunting them, trying to goad her father into losing his cool.

  “I puzzled over your motive for drawing me here in anger,” Troy said. “Now I understand. You forced a slave ring on my daughter’s finger simply to lord it over me. You’ve become foolish old man. Isolated at the top of the world, you’ve lost touch with where the real power lies.”

  “Power does not lie with you,” Odin spat.

  “You feared my father’s power, so you killed your own son and set Loki up to take the blame.”

  “Enough!” Odin scrambled to his feet and banged the bottom of his staff on the ice. A crack of thunder split the air. Sonja’s ears rang.

  “ ‘Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing,’ ” Troy murmured.

  He released Sonja’s hand before drawing a short black sword from the scabbard across his back and raising it. Lightning burst from the blade’s tip, arcing across the room to hit the side of Odin’s throne. The dirty ice exploded, showering those nearby with slush. Huginn and Muninn jumped aside, brushing the muck off their clothes. After a few moments Huginn slunk back to his master’s side, but Muninn had obviously had enough. He sidled toward the door.

  Odin glanced at him, and the raven-man fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

  “Rats leaving a sinking ship,” Troy said under his breath. Then louder: “Remove Draupnir’s child from Sonja’s hand and I shall leave you in peace.”

  Odin kicked the Crystal Crib, causing it to slide a few feet toward them. “Don’t think you can dictate to me, Troy the Deathless.”

  “Will you leave me no choice but to kill you?” Sonja’s father asked wearily.

  Raised voices sounded behind her. Vidar raced into the room and sprinted toward them, his long fur coat flying. “Sonja, are you all right?” He skidded to a halt at her side, grabbing her arm, as if to prove to himself that she was solid and alive.

  “Come and stand at my side, Vidar,” Odin roared.

  Sonja’s burst of pleasure at seeing him died beneath an onslaught of fear. “Go to your father,” she encouraged. She couldn’t bear the ring to hurt him again.

  He gazed at her as if she’d lost her mind. “My place is at your side. I chose you two thousand years ago when I defied my father to save your life.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Odin bellowed. “Come here, Vidar.”

  Vidar met Troy’s gaze in unspoken accord. He drew a sword from beneath his coat then faced his father. “No more,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

  Odin’s head dropped forward, his leather bag of runes clutched against his chest. For a moment Sonja thought he might back down, now that he’d lost Vidar’s support. But then he said, “You never were to be trusted.”

  Vidar fell to his knees, teeth gritted, the sinews on his neck taut with pain. His ring was clearly punishing him.

  “Father, do something!” Sonja dropped to the ice at Vidar’s side, tears in her eyes.

  “Stop this, old man,” her father demanded, his voice a slash of warning.

  “Thor! Wake up, son!” Odin shouted. “Do as I told you!”

  The red-bearded giant stomped forward from the back of the room. He swung his hammer up in an arc and down to smash the Crystal Crib. The crystal structure shattered into a hundred blue shards.

  “No!” Vidar’s tormented shout rang off the walls. He reached for her, his hand closing around her wrist. “I never meant this to happen. I love you!” he shouted.

  The noise faded as if she had cotton wool stuffed in her ears. The room wavered. Energy leaked out of her body as if someone had ripped a hole in her soul. Her father’s arm wrapped around her back, and she sagged against him. Clear crystal blue color ringed her vision . . . then closed around her.

  Chapter Nine

  The racking pain from the ring faded, leaving a residual ache, but Vidar ignored his discomfort and turned to where Troy held Sonja’s limp body in his arms. “She’s alive? Tell me she’s alive!”

  The air elemental’s normally inscrutable expression fell away, and his face tightened to a mask of fury. The air around him prickled with barely contained power as he gently laid her on the ground. “She’s dead,” he said.

  Odin rattled his staff against the ice in triumph. “Not invincible after all, are you, Troy?”

  Vidar vaulted to his feet, heedless of his bruised muscles, wanting only to close his hands around Odin’s throat and squeeze until the monster shut up. Troy caught his shoulder and jerked him back. “No. We use this opportunity,” he said.

  “Opportunity!” How could Troy call his daughter’s death an opportunity?

  Distraught, Vidar lashed out, but Troy deflected his weak blow. Vidar fell to his knees at Sonja’s side and took her face between his hands. Her skin was warm, but when he reached to touch her mind, he found only a whisper of her presence.

  Troy crouched beside him. “She’s still close. The remnants of the Crystal Crib and your bond hold her here. She’s inherited my gift, Vidar. Call her back.”

  New hope surged. He had told Sonja she might have inherited her father’s ability to return from the dead, but Vidar had hardly dared hope it was true. He closed his eyes and recalled the sensation of touching Sonja’s mind and spirit. Behind him sounded the deadly hiss of metal sliding over metal, as Troy drew his sword to stand guard over them.

  In his mind Vidar called Sonja to return: pleaded, cajoled, and commanded by turns. He cl
asped her hand, and the cursed ring fell from her finger into his palm. Vidar’s eyes snapped open. Odin always joked that Draupnir only released its victims in death. If Sonja returned from the dead, she would be free of the ring, free to leave this miserable place and have a life.

  Without him.

  Deep crystalline blue cradled Sonja in its familiar protective embrace. Her fear and uncertainty faded as the power stolen from her and locked in the Crystal Crib for two thousand years flooded her being. Far away, a man called her name.

  His voice tugged at her chest, trying to drag her to him. A memory of love and tenderness whispered through her. Sonja wanted to go to him, but that meant leaving her safe blue haven. He called again, closer this time. An image formed in her mind of his lean body and dark hair, lustrous golden eyes that flared like flames when he looked at her. Vidar.

  A gossamer web enclosed her heart, tiny filaments of connection that she sensed bonded her with him. Her blue haven dissolved, and she found herself again in Valhalla. Fragments of blue crystal covered the floor in a starburst of destruction. The memory of Thor smashing the Crystal Crib tumbled back through her mind on a wave of grief. When the crib shattered, she’d felt as if one of her vital organs was ripped out. She picked up a large crystal shard and clutched it lovingly to her chest. Her lost power streamed into her from the shattered blue crystal until she pulsed with energy.

  Vidar called her name again and she turned, searching for him. She saw Troy standing like an avenging angel over her prone lifeless body, sword raised, protecting her physical form until she returned. He radiated light like a minisun, giving her focus. But she didn’t think he could see her.

  Her heart fluttered as the translucent filaments joining her to Vidar quivered with his grief. Squinting against Troy’s brilliance, she followed the glittering strands to a shadowy form hunched over her body. It didn’t look like Vidar. She paused warily, raising the crystal sliver to protect herself, but the translucent strands pulled her closer to the dark figure. She studied the shadow and realized that it was Vidar. He was concealed beneath a dense, dark mesh.

  Sonja dug her fingers underneath the mesh and tugged, trying to free him, but it clung, unbreakable wire. She looked around for help. Odin stood out like an oily black stain in the air. Trails of dark threads ran from the ring on his hand to other shadowy figures that must be Huginn, Muninn, and Thor.

  Anger flashed through her, quickly chased by determination. A burst of tingling energy ran along her arm to sizzle across the blue crystal shard. She would not let Odin imprison Vidar through the ring’s evil any longer!

  Taking care not to cut the translucent strands that linked her with Vidar, she used the sharp-edged crystal to slice away the dark mesh covering him. When the final black threads fell clear, Vidar flared with a bright orange glow. Fire. His welcoming heat streaked along their bond, drawing her back into her body. She opened her eyes and gasped in a breath.

  “Sacred elf-fire, Sonja.” Vidar pulled her into his arms and hugged her so hard she couldn’t breathe. When he released her, she clung to the front of his fur coat, reveling in the solid strength of him.

  “Are you all right?” she gasped.

  “Am I all right?” He hugged her again. “Crazy woman. You’re the one who died.” He cradled her head and kissed her cheeks, nose, and lips. He pulled back, frowning and touching the crystal fragment in her hand. “When did you pick up this?”

  Odin cursed, grabbing their attention. He glared at his ring. “Huginn, Muninn, bring me my errant son.” Neither raven moved, their gazes locked on Troy, sword still upraised.

  Sonja grabbed Vidar’s hand and pulled the slave ring off his finger in case Draupnir could re-create the imprisoning mesh. Vidar stared at the loose gold band; confusion followed by hope flashed across his face.

  “How . . . ? The ring fell off your finger when you died, but mine shouldn’t have come off.”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  “Well parried,” Troy said. “Now we riposte.” He dipped and snagged the two rings. “On your feet, Sonja. I need your help.”

  She couldn’t imagine how her fledgling power might help Troy overcome Odin, but she scrambled upright, hanging on to Vidar’s arm.

  Troy held up the rings. “Did you foresee this consequence of your actions in the runes, Odin?” he asked contemptuously. Flickers of crackling energy danced around his hand, sparking off the rings. He turned to Sonja. “Raise the point of your crystal dagger.”

  “Dagger?” Sonja blinked at the crystal shard. She had a weapon in her hand and her father expected her to use it. The total weirdness of the situation suddenly hit her like a truck, nearly knocking the legs from under her. “I won’t hurt anyone. I can’t.”

  “No time for self-doubt.” Troy gave her a meaningful glance.

  Vidar placed a steadying hand on her back. His energy filled her, strong and fortifying. Sonja dragged in a breath before raising the point of the glinting crystal blade.

  Troy dropped both gold rings over the tip, then wrapped a hand around hers. A wild hurricane of energy raced through her; then she sensed her father’s fine control focus the tempest down to a point of fearsome power. Lightning flashed out of the end of the crystal dagger, shooting toward the ceiling. With a wrenching groan, the ice there fractured. Huge chunks rained down, thudding to the floor all around them. Sonja covered her head, while Vidar wrapped his arms protectively around her. Troy threw a light shield over them, and the ice bounced off with an electric sizzle like high voltage cable.

  Odin staggered. Losing his grip on his staff, he collapsed to his knees. “Help me!” He grabbed for the hem of Thor’s coat as his son lumbered toward the door, hammer over his shoulder, fleeing the destruction. He missed, and howled as he sagged to the ice, his limbs twitching, his wrinkled face screwed up.

  “Incredible,” Vidar whispered in Sonja’s ear. “Troy’s focusing your combined power into the two child rings to attack Odin through Draupnir.” The storm of ice fragments settled. The roof of the chamber was now open to the sky.

  “Hold your focus,” Troy commanded, and he released Sonja’s hand.

  Her heart pounded as energy from the air poured through her into the crystal. She felt as unprepared as a kid given the steering wheel of her father’s car, but she wasn’t about to show weakness in front of Odin.

  Troy paced forward, crunching shattered ice and crystal underfoot, his expression merciless. Vidar wrapped an arm around Sonja, boosting her strength. He gripped her hand on the crystal shard. Heat shot through her, and flames leaped from the tip of the crystal.

  “Skitur!” Vidar snatched away his hand. “My fire . . . How?”

  “Who knows, just help me!”

  Vidar’s hand closed over hers again, and heat flooded her. Flames burst from the end of the dagger, engulfing the rings. Huginn and Muninn transformed into ravens and flapped up to the ceiling, circling, cawing loudly.

  “Have mercy on an old man,” Odin gasped, reaching for Troy’s polished black boot. Sonja’s father took a half step back out of reach.

  “You punished Vidar with a slave ring for the sin of saving my baby daughter’s life. Why should I show you mercy?”

  “Stop, please.”

  Troy’s breath hissed out, and his sword hovered in the air above Odin, ready to strike. “Relinquish Draupnir and your suffering ends.”

  “No!” Odin banged his fist against the ice, an angry whine rising from his throat.

  “He’ll never give up the ring,” Vidar whispered.

  Sonja trembled, terrified that Troy might slaughter Odin right there in front of her.

  Her father angled the point of his sword at Odin’s throat. “There’s another way to break your hold over Draupnir,” he said.

  “I curse you, son of Loki. I curse you,” Odin ground out between clenched teeth.

  Troy smiled grimly, pressing the tip of his sword against Odin’s throat until blood trickled onto the ice.

  “Sto
p!” Odin’s bony hands fluttered together, and he tugged Draupnir from his finger. “You win . . . this time.” He held up the ring. The tense agonized lines of his body eased as he recovered from the way Troy had reversed the energy flow and attacked him through the ring.

  Sonja lowered her crystal knife and sagged against Vidar, exhausted but relieved.

  The tip of Troy’s blade touched Odin’s throat again. “Renounce the ring,” he commanded.

  “Isn’t it enough that I’ve taken it—?”

  “Renounce it. Now.”

  “I release thee.” Defiance flashed in Odin’s single gold eye, only to be replaced by fear at another jab from Troy’s sword. “I release thee, Draupnir, gift of Brokkr and Eitri, to seek ye a new master.” He glanced longingly at the ring, then tossed it away.

  A rent opened in the air, sucking in the ring. Searing elemental power burst through the chamber, whipping up a whirlwind of shattered ice that knocked Sonja and Vidar to the ground. Sonja lay still until the turmoil faded, Vidar covering her with his body. Once the air cleared, he grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. Heart skipping with apprehension, she peered through the steaming, shattered ice for Troy. By some miracle, her father was still standing over Odin, untouched by the chaos.

  “Don’t let him kill me, son,” Odin shouted to Vidar.

  Two tall, dark-haired men appeared out of the murky air. Sonja needed a few seconds to recognize them. Huginn and Muninn now stood tall and straight, a bright intelligent glint in their eyes. Huginn’s gaze flitted from Troy to them and back. “Kill him, or we will.”

  “Why put him out of his misery?” Troy moved aside so they had a clear view of the pitiful sight of Odin curled on the floor, looking like a vagrant in his dirty clothes. “Let us not deny him years of wretchedness in a shattered palace with no servants to do his bidding and no sons to bully.”

  Huginn narrowed his black eyes and nodded. “Very well.” His outline shimmered; then the black raven rose into the air, larger and sleeker than before, to be joined a moment later by his brother. They flew toward the door and out.