Eye of Hel: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 2)

by Alaric Longward

  ‘I don’t trust your gods, Shannon. I told you. But do ask Hel, should you see her, for the secret of Glory. And then we have a chance. I’d like to see you stay, though. Six months can be a lifetime if well spent.’

  I eyed her carefully. Would she stop me from going? Ompar was right. I could not trust any one of them. Not even Cherry, I thought and looked at her as she brought up the rear, the skinny and thin girl that smiled but never said a word.

  A gigantic man nodded at us as we passed him, and I missed Thak, the fire giant who had helped us, even saved us. Had he truly died with Euryale’s tower? Gods, I could have trusted him. He was just grateful for us releasing him. We came to a side tower, overlooking the northern jungles and the Black Ring, a dark hill just to the north of the tower that guarded that bridge. It was ringed with fires, nothing grew on it, and now it was Lord Danar’s headquarters. The door opened with a creak, and we pushed in. It was a cell. Ompar was sitting in the corner, tapping his foot on the tiles. He noticed our entrance, but he did not greet us. Instead, he was looking at Hannea. His face was pale with shock and worry. There was a tray of food scattered on the floor.

  Hannea was not well. She was moaning and holding her belly, and her teeth were tightly ground together. She looked hideous. ‘What is it?’ I asked chokingly, stepping forward.

  ‘Someone poisoned her food,’ Ompar said darkly. ‘Never happened in Lowpass before. An attack on elven lord or lady. And I have been a fair lord.’

  I hesitated. ‘Hannea has a spell we need,’ I said. ‘And I did say she might know who—’

  Ompar nodded, hate flickering in his eyes. ‘And you think one of your … friends did this? Yes. It is possible. They could have. None saw it, and the servant swore he had nothing to do with it. The guard said he stopped to take a piss and left the tray aside. First my guard and the birds, now this. Whoever it is, is getting desperate.’ He did not look at us. ‘He or she is trying to kill the ones who protect and help you. But at least we know it is not Cherry and Albine. They were with us.’

  Anja.

  I took a step forward. Hannea was tied down on a bed. Her thick, blonde hair was braided, and her face glistened with sweat and fear. There was blood on her lip. Ompar gave me a long, pleading look, and I nodded. ‘Your friends are being outfitted for war,’ Ompar said. ‘Help her and we will win.’

  ‘I’ll not speak, brother. Nor help you,’ Hannea wheezed and coughed blood. Her belly was raw and sore, and I saw she was quickly losing strength. ‘Father would kill me. I’ll not betray my kind,’ she said with weak coughs. ‘Rather die.’ I walked to her. Her uncanny, bright elven eyes stared at me with feverish intensity. ‘You are a mistake. Not as the gods intended.’

  I smiled. ‘An elf-made mistake, Hannea. Courtesy of the great fool Cerunnos Timmerion. But here we are. Do you wish to bite down on something? I don’t mind if you don’t. Though I think you might be the first elf I have seen without teeth. This will hurt, you see.’

  ‘Elves bear pain gracefully,’ she said stiffly. ‘We don’t squeal like pigs.’

  I grasped her thick hair and stared at her eyes. ‘If you so much as think about Embracing the Glory, I’ll make you squeal like one.’

  ‘She won’t,’ Ompar said with a warning and waved his hand. ‘Do it. She’ll be happier when she is not in pain. She was always terrible to all of us when she was sick. The servants disappeared mysteriously, and we had to feed her. She poured a bowl of soup in my boot once. Then she vomited in the other.’

  ‘Shut up, brother,’ Hannea growled. ‘Why would you tell her something like that? It’s none of her business. I want to keep my memories for myself, thank you.’

  ‘The Hand of Life is my business, and I keep few secrets from her,’ he told her. Few, but he did, I thought.

  ‘Do it, then,’ she said, after a moment of indecision.

  ‘Here goes,’ I whispered. I dug deep into the icy powers of healing. I remembered Euryale pushing me, prodding me forward in her study, making me grow my potential. With the armor, I was filled to the brim with the power of the icy healing. It could be painful, should I release it all together, but I would try not to, despite being tempted at channeling it all into the arrogant face of Hannea. She was a beautiful elf, with shiny emerald green eyes and pouty lips pursed with frightened arrogance. Was Albine right? Did it make sense to think anything good would come out of these elven lords of the south? Perhaps war was the answer, the blood, the price, the dead, the memory that would make the new world proud one day? Perhaps the future generations would thank us when they remembered the distant past and saw the graves. I chased the thought away and weaved the healing together, plucked at the deepest ice, like a god might, and weaved more frigid wind to the spell. Then I released it like I would release a relieved breath. I made it smooth and long and lasting. Ompar gasped. Albine sat down and Hannea? She moaned and then shrieked in pain. She squealed like a pig would as her blood was cured, and she quickly bit down on a pillow. She wept and clutched my hand as I helped her bear the pain. Then it was over. Her face had a placid look as she breathed, and she was silent. She smiled. She smiled the relieved smile of a child, her face a mask of ecstasy, and she marveled at the powers that only gods possessed.

  ‘It was—’ she was whispering, and then her eyes settled on me. She let go of my hand and scuttled up to sit by the wall. She looked upset; she was blushing and finally looked away. ‘It’s only a matter of time before someone else poisons me again. This place is a nest of slithering vipers.’

  ‘We will be more careful,’ Ompar said, clearly worried. ‘How was it? Is Shannon a fake?’

  ‘I … no,’ she said, not looking at me. ‘It felt intoxicating. I was passed out when she healed me the last time, but I believe you now. Hand of Life. Human Hand.’

  Ompar chuckled. ‘Yes! It is like the first time you were drunk, Hannea. On the Arch, remember? You had the Gileanthian wine with the crew, and they swear to this day they never saw a happier fool elfess than you were. I would not know. I had passed out.’

  ‘I was sixteen,’ she said with simmering anger. ‘And you will not tell them anything more about my past. I told you that already, didn’t I?’

  ‘Not even of your crush on Biartin?’ Ompar said softly. ‘The man. The tall human. The guardian of you and Tiria.’

  She turned to look at him. Her eyes were fierce, then they calmed, though very slowly. She wiped her hair off her face. ‘He died.’

  ‘They all die,’ Ompar said slowly. ‘Some of old age. Others are murdered because we don’t think like our father. Some die because Father has a bad day.’

  ‘We should think like him,’ she said tiredly. ‘If we did, he would have elevated us.’

  ‘Not me,’ Ompar said and forced a grin. ‘I cannot Embrace the Glory. Many nobles who don’t, still find a place at the table of their fathers, but not I. But then, I doubt Father even feels sorrow for Tiria.’

  ‘He will,’ Hannea said softly. ‘I do. She trusted me sometimes, even if she was what she was. I miss her. I will. Sometimes.’ She eyed me with anger.

  ‘She died in battle,’ I told her. ‘Humans don’t die like cattle, Hannea.’

  She nodded gravely. ‘So. You are not a fake. A freak, yes, but not a fake. Do you have any idea how this will shake elven sensibilities? That the Hand of Life is a human being? And I don’t mean only in the south, but also in the north.’

  ‘I’ve been told this is the case,’ I said. ‘They are killing women and children out there for the fact.’ She nodded slowly but said nothing. I sighed. ‘But frankly, I am only out to release the gods.’

  Hannea giggled. She waved her hand to the north. ‘Release the gods. Indeed. My father claims he wants that. He blames the north for forgetting the gods when they had Hands of Life serving them. He blames the Bardagoons for not letting the Hand of Life enter Ljusalfheim and the Whispering Shadows, and we in the south think the north enjoys the Regency over much. If you and Father both want the same thi
ng, why not go to him?’

  ‘Are you sure your father wants the same thing I do?’ I asked her. ‘You said that is what he claims to want.’

  ‘That is what he claims. How in Frigg’s mercy could I know for sure? He is tight as a rock,’ she stated. I looked at Albine, who shook her head slightly. She lied.

  Hannea did not miss that. Her eyes went into suspicious slits. ‘Spell?’

  ‘A skill,’ Albine said. ‘You lied.’

  She said nothing for a time, probably feeling intruded on, as we all had when Albine’s powers to detect the truth became apparent the first time. Hannea smiled at the roof, not looking at us. ‘And you lot have spells and powers. Very dangerous for you. And for us. I hear you already pulled thousands to their deaths inside this fort.’

  ‘They came because they want to be happier,’ Albine told her brusquely. ‘They want a change. And they are willing to die for a chance at that.’

  Hannea nodded slowly and wiped her face with her palm. ‘Happy. Everyone is happy except for an elven noble. Always worried about wars, betrayals, and death that will cut that long, splendid life so short. There was one noble elven family, ninety-seventh to the Regency. Just last week they were betrayed in their own castle. Due west from Lowpass, some days away. There had been no feud declared by their assailants in the Feast last year. There was no war. They were surprised. Babies and ladies died just like the warriors and the few Glory-using ma tarith. Everyone was slaughtered. There is now a new house there, and gods know how long they will last. And you worry about the happiness of the lesser—’ Albine spat and got up. Hannea looked at her with curiosity. ‘Dark. Like many of the tribes in the east. Over the sea.’

  Albine’s eyes went round. ‘Like me?’

  ‘Like you,’ she sighed. ‘The gods wanted different looking people in this world. Like there are different looking elves and giants and dverger across the Nine Worlds, there are many kinds of humans.’

  I interrupted her. ‘Does your father truly wish to restore the gods? Answer and do not lie.’

  ‘She can read minds, can’t she?’ she asked sullenly. ‘If I lied last time, you have your damned answer.’

  ‘She can tell me if you lie,’ I told her. ‘But I want no mysteries and riddles. I want answers. Tiria said you will break the world.’

  She shook her head and sighed. ‘Yes. Father wants Ljusalfheim and Himingborg. All of Freyr’s Seat. He wants to be the first house of all the elves, and he will break the old ways in order to achieve that. He will do this when the lords meet at the Feast in Himingborg. He is spoiling for war that will make him more than a Regent; a King. Tiria said this is so. She was to marry Marxam Daxamma’s son to cement the alliance. All he truly wants is to hold the north and to rule all the lands and houses. Gods? He says he will restore them, one day. But not before he rules.’

  ‘True,’ Albine said.

  ‘And I was to fawn on Tiria,’ Hannea went on. ‘She was to rule Himingborg for Father. I was to serve as her archive-keeper.’

  ‘There is more,’ Ompar said. ‘I sailed the eastern coast last year,’ he nodded that way. ‘Father wanted me to chart and map the coasts for bases. He is out to conquer the whole of Aldheim.’

  ‘What is special about Himingborg?’ I asked, feeling chilled by the discussion.

  ‘Why, it is impregnable,’ Hannea laughed. ‘Tall walls and terrible Safiroon mages. House Safiroon is home to Talien Safiroon, the mightiest maa’dark of our time. He is older than Almheir Bardagoon, and his spells can level armies. Tiria met someone in Himingborg, and you were to go there, but not to Almheir Bardagoon. Euryale will get to try her luck with Cerunnos Timmerion when you have helped conquer the land. She wants the Eye, we know. Let her have it, but only after the land is made anew.’

  ‘That makes no sense,’ I said emphatically. ‘She infected the Regent’s wife with the Rot to force him to let me try killing Cerunnos. If they will use me to wage a simple war, to curry favor with Bardagoon subjects to Danar Coinar, then why bite Aloise at all?’

  ‘She might have changed her plans,’ Ompar said. ‘Euryale the Devourer is a scheming, mischievous bitch and only gods know her plans.’

  Cherry was standing in the shadows, looking down, and Albine was fidgeting. She spoke. ‘I don’t think she is the sort of monster to make foolish, chaotic plans, change them around at a whim and then fail.’

  I looked at her while thinking. ‘I agree.’

  ‘She was planning for something big,’ Albine whispered. ‘I am sure of it. We just do not see it. She bit this Aloise for a reason.’

  We sat there in silence for a while and then, finally, Ompar slapped his armored knee. ‘I think there will be an interesting Feast of Fates this year,’ he said. ‘But we try to avoid giving you over to Father at all and let the Regent deal with Father’s plans.’

  ‘It’s postponed,’ Hannea said.

  ‘I know,’ Ompar said. ‘Father is here, isn’t he? Cannot have one without the top five houses. Must have one since wars and peace must be made and Aldheim ruled, but it is postponed indeed.’

  She waved to the north. ‘That is where all will be settled, then. In Himingborg. Worry not, Hand. You will survive for a time. After Father marries you—’

  ‘Marries me?’ I gawked.

  Ompar was waving his hand. ‘Wait—’

  ‘You have not told her?’ Hannea laughed and sat back with a smug smile. ‘Go ahead.’

  Ompar rubbed his head. ‘I tried to tell you that in the Arch. The Hand of Life marries the one that rules. It’s a simple thing, really. There is no love involved, no romance, usually, unless the Hand of Life is very fetching, and the Regent handsome and unsullied by politics. Bardagoon has lost so many of your sisters, Shannon, he likely could not love you at all.’ He was worried that was not the case, I saw. ‘When we take you there, he will marry you. That is how it goes.’

  ‘I am a human,’ I said slowly. ‘He—’

  ‘Will marry you, no doubt,’ Ompar said miserably. ‘For his lands, for Aloise. It will seem strange to him, no doubt, but he will. He might hide you under Silver Maw. Like Tiria planned, no?’

  ‘I bet my brother here hoped he might marry you himself,’ Hannea laughed. ‘He would be high, so high. For a moment.’

  ‘I don’t really care for being high,’ he sulked.

  ‘After being a low pirate all your life, you might be surprised. You must wonder, at least.’ She giggled.

  Ompar smiled. ‘Sure. I could marry Shannon here, raise the south into rebellion against Father. I could summon elves to my banner and perhaps change the world. I could, but I won’t. Hand is dying. And that I cannot ignore. Besides,’ he laughed. ‘I’d be trapped here still and not raising elves to my banner.’

  ‘I have the Rot,’ I told Hannea.

  ‘How long does she have? Rot? Devourer’s venom?’ Hannea asked, her eyes huge.

  ‘Six months, less,’ I said.

  ‘Cannot heal it?’ she asked, curious. ‘No, you cannot. Hand was always able to heal her own diseases to a degree, but she was ever strongest with the wounds of others. I am sorry.’ I shook my head and bowed to her slightly.

  ‘You spoke about your father’s plans. As much as we needed you to. Thanks to Albine, we know more now. But we will need two more things from you,’ I told her.

  ‘Not sure I am willing to give even one,’ she whispered.

  ‘You can tell me,’ I said, ‘which one of my friends told you about me. About who I am. And what. One did.’ My stomach knotted with fear as I looked at her.

  She sighed. ‘Ah, you think this is why someone tried to poison me! Or to stop me from helping you at all. And how could you believe me?’ she laughed. ‘Perhaps I’ll just pick one at random. Perhaps I wish to keep my peace with Father and just lie? He would hang me from the gates of Gold Hall if he found out I hampered his plans. Perhaps it is best I tell you nothing? But I will. The traitor. She is not out to kill you but to help you reach our father’s greedy litt
le hands. To get you to Himingborg in one piece. I can tell you that one is allied with Euryale. Tiria knew who it was. I don’t, except it is a she.’

  She? I looked at Albine. Anja indeed.

  ‘She,’ Hannea repeated.

  Albine nodded. ‘Truth.’ I felt bitterly disappointed at not finding out more and cursed my luck. She knew nothing real about the plans of their father, nor the identity of the traitor. Tiria had been no fool, even if she spoke too much.

  ‘I see,’ I said at length. ‘And then we will need you to cast a spell. To Embrace the Glory. To give us a boon that will help us all.’

  She hesitated, her eyes looking at Ompar. ‘She healed you,’ Ompar said. ‘Twice, in fact.’

  ‘She also caused my fall,’ Hannea sulked.

  ‘She healed you, nonetheless. I asked her to. I think she would have anyway.’

  ‘You want me to use that one spell, right?’ she said miserably. ‘My very own specialty. You are planning something stupid, no? Or just trying to help someone escape? Father will know I did it. He knows that spell. I don’t know anyone else who knows it.’ I did, I thought. Cosia the Gorgon knew that spell as well.

  Ompar smiled. ‘We will need to get someone out. And yes, we are planning for something stupid. And now you owe her. We need that spell. You remember the one you used to cause mischief with?’

  ‘He will know, I spoke,’ she said softly.

  ‘You will risk that much,’ Ompar said brusquely. ‘He will suspect. If he survives, that is.’

  ‘What?’ she asked with horror.

  ‘We will give him battle. And Cherry here will try to kill him,’ he said grittily. Hannea nodded with eyes full of terror, and I could see her praying. She nodded. ‘Make Cherry look like the Hand.’

  She did. Ompar pulled me to the side. He whispered to me the part of the plan he had not shared, and I nodded. It might not work.