They scattered left and right, those who could.
The casters released spells. A lightning bolt shattered a statue next to me, but I didn’t hear it, even if I saw Ittisana hold her ears with pain. Fires shot up at me, but the snake’s body moved to block the spells, sucking them in. It hunted the mages, killing archers as it did. I felt what it felt, saw what it saw. And also the other way around. I looked at Shinna Safiroon, who blanched. She pulled at an elf who had fallen and was weeping with pain, and pushed him to the hole. She Embraced the Glory, and pulled together a mighty spell that glowed around her and Anja.
I released the spell at her. Perhaps it never asked for permission.
The explosion rocked the Haven. The remaining elven troops fell, burning. The stairway cracked and partly fell, and I felt my face was on fire, hands as well. I spied Shinna pull herself to the hole, her back smoking, and some elven hands grasped her. Anja, her hair singed fell after her. The snake was still alive, much reduced, roaring around the bottom of the stairway. Ittisana was near me, hacking her sword at a terrified elf, who fell over the blade. She leaned on me, and looked down to where a limping Thak hacked survivors to pieces, and pushed at the heavy trapdoor to cover the tunnel they had used to infiltrate the city and where Shinna had fled with Anja.
The door clanged closed.
Elven moans filled the library.
I struggled to let go of the spell.
The snake refused. My head was splitting with heat and pain, and the snake slithered inside the mouth of a still living elf, burning him alive.
Ittisana was there, and I realized I was howling, holding on to the railing, and then, finally, she ripped the mask off my face. She screamed, her hands smoking and dropped it, and I fell down with the spell, my face hitting the stones.
I remembered Thak leaning over me. “They heard us planning. They know we will go for the Horn. At least one who was up here fled down.”
“I’ll get the artifacts,” Ittisana whispered. “I think Shannon overdid it.”
“She might have,” Thak muttered and then I passed out.
He dragged me to the Citadel, and there I slept for a day.
CHAPTER 4
I gazed to the north through a window. A raven flew across my sight, and I flinched from my thoughts. I turned to look at the Iron Trial. There it was, on a table next to me. It looked simple, just iron really, with eye slits.
And yet, it was nothing but. I knew it was a malicious thing of destruction.
I had been one as well.
Hundred dead? More?
What in Hel’s name happened?
It had changed. That’s what. It had changed and taken over and we had nearly died for it. It had been different, full of malice and ripping anger. It had loved each kill. It had been difficult before. Now?
It was like trying to control a storm.
Thak was sitting near, running a hand across a shallow wound on his arm. He was healing well. He cursed the seeping cut, and looked at me carefully and sighed. “You want to talk about it, you weak-hearted human?”
I snorted and stretched my arms before me. The gauntlets, simple and practical were still on my hands. Over hundred. Surely?
No wonder Strife had been mad. Had he ever removed the mask? Mad or not, in his hands the snake had not exploded into such a primal thing of death. In his hands it had been deadly, but also controllable.
It had gone crazy. The spell and the artifact had gone utterly damned mad. What would have happened, if Ittisana had not ripped it off? “Is she OK? Ittisana,” I asked Thak.
“Yes,” the giant answered. “Her hands were a bit crisp, but otherwise, things are well with her.”
I looked at the mask carefully and rubbed my face. “I’m not sure what would have followed. It took over. It was totally different than before. I mean, I think it cheated me. Made me believe everything was under my control. But the battle made it a monster. I could have burnt down the whole Haven. Did I? It was—”
Ittisana appeared, saw I was awake and sat near. She picked up the mask, twirled it, and held it up with a squint, looking through the eye slits. She was careful not to place it on her face. “Don’t worry about it… for now,” she said flippantly and spun the mask on her finger. “Maybe you won’t have to use it again. It’s like the pairing of the just and the evil, and the evil just proved the just has no saying in anything. It’s like a bad marriage. One of you will eventually be silent and obedient, and it won’t be the mask, I reckon.”
“What would you know of a marriage?” I laughed softly, not really comforted. I eyed the mask as she threw it on the desk. Use it again? Never.
“We marry,” she muttered. “How do you think we keep our numbers so high?”
I clamped my mouth shut and Thak smirked at me. “Don’t worry. You’re not her type. I know.”
“How do you know?” I asked him suspiciously. “Are you—”
“No! We are not …” He waved a hand at me. “You are Kiera’s,” he chuckled. “Taken.”
“I am not—”
Ittisana smiled and slapped my knee. “Yes, you are. She’s got you. We don’t take another’s man. The law forbids it. The Queen of the Dark Waters, Eris, sets the laws and we cannot circumvent them. Marry a male for offspring, but leave the married ones alone.”
“A male? Any male?” I wondered.
She nodded. “There are no gorgon males. Any male will do. And now Kiera has you.”
“Has me?” I growled. “I’m not married to her, though,” I said and then sobered. I saw Ittisana’s amused face and feared she had misunderstood. “But I’m not trying to change Kiera to you. You see—”
She put a finger over my mouth. “You should know when to stop, Ulrich. You are going to make me unhappy with every word. You should not. Know, that the males who have managed to produce an heir for one of us, are often tossed out or sold. We rarely keep one for a long time. We can be brutal to males. So don’t upset me. I’m well used to punishing males who speak too much. But yes. We may marry nearly anyone, but rarely do we marry a human. Unless the human is brave and arrogant. Then they might, just might marry one of us. Not many humans make their way to the Dark Waters, anyway. Remember. The kin want to see an arrogant, brave man. They like that.”
“Why do I need to know this?” I asked, retreating from her finger. I felt guilty when I saw her hand was badly scabbed.
“Just in case you need to impress one of my kin,” she explained with a simple smile. “Be arrogant and brave, Ulrich. Try to be funny as well. We like amusing males. But be brave. Be brave first.”
“You’re saying right now I’m a meek coward?”
Thak roared with laughter. “You are full of doubts, Ulrich. You are no coward, but you are very unsecure. A jotun sets his sword on one side, and that’s where he stays. You just mutter and stagger around, a victim. She is right about the gorgons, though. Be arrogant if you get captured by one of them. I’ve rarely seen a human and a gorgon in the Dark Waters getting together—”
“Seen?” I asked. “Wait. Seen?”
Thak’s smile disappeared. “I’ll not go into it now. All I’m saying is, she is not into you as long as Kiera has clamped her fingers around your soul. Or heart.” His eyes flickered to my chest and I rubbed the sore wound.
“Oh, if she lets go of you,” the monstrous female said with a fang-filled smile. “I might develop a taste for a human.” We didn’t ask her what she meant by that.
I shook my head with trepidation as I picked up the Iron Trial again. I weighted it and wondered at it. “I’ve been thinking. Is there a book—”
Ittisana giggled and shook her head, caressing one of her snakes. “Now you want to read books?”
“Yes,” I growled and gave her an evil eye. All the killing. It made me sick. Thak and her, they had no issue slaying their enemies and having supper after. In Haven, the elves would have killed us without mercy.
But I wasn’t like that.
Thak w
as right. I was full of doubts. I felt guilty, like I was growing thinner and less like the man I wanted to be. There was less Ulrich the longer I served as a warrior. And yet, I might have to use the thing again. And that meant I had to understand it in order to know what I should, could, do differently. “Where does an artifact get its power? The person who carries it? Otherwise it wouldn’t be lifeless like this, right?” I poked the mask and it didn’t move.
Thak shook his head. “A good observation. I do not know. This is something to ask a dverg.”
Ittisana agreed. “They’d know. But I can look for a book, if you like.” She sounded uncertain as she tilted her head and leaned close. She grabbed my chin and turned my head from side to side. “If I find nothing, just don’t use it unless you absolutely have to. It wasn’t my Ulrich in there, was it? Something was clearly off.”
I grasped her hand and pushed it away. “There was so much power. So much. Dana must feel like that, when she releases that terrible spell of hers. You could go crazy with that much power. She used to laugh like a maniac, when her foes burned to a crisp.”
Ittisana poked me. She was a very physical creature, and I wondered if Kiera would rip her head off, if she was right and the dead one had staked me. She cooed. “Don’t worry about it now. Shannon will want to meet you. The elves know of our plans now.”
I snorted. “Elves? Of course they know. They might have heard us talking, but surely they guessed already,” I said and walked to the window. “Shannon has no way to win. Not really. They fear her, yes, fear her powers, but I’m sure they fully expect to win. Of course they think Shannon wants to get the Horn.”
“She will get it,” Ittisana said calmly as I stared out of the window. There, on the hill high above the city, many widows mourned for what I had done. I had killed and their relatives had burned and that’s all there is to it. I had killed before.
I hated to think about it. I hated killing.
Yet, I knew something else. For a moment, I had enjoyed it. When the fire had ripped the enemy apart like they were made of straw, I had felt mad joy. That much power can consume a soul.
Not me too, I thought. Everyone around me had changed somehow. Now me as well? Would I change even more?
Thak muttered. “Yes, they fear her. The elves remember the White Court and what happened there. They saw their friends turned into draugr. They saw Euryale die, and their Regent diseased and humiliated. They will come, but for now, they have been awed. They are afraid, not sure what the extent of Shannon’s power is. Not sure at all. If they think she is looking to find the Horn, not brewing some trap or battle plan to take Aldheim, it will embolden them. That attack yesterday was a probe. The trapdoor is closed, but are there others? They might very well hurry up now, Ulrich. Meet with Shannon, and we get this over with.”
“I will,” I said. “We have a map now. I guess we are ready to enter the land of Nött. All we need is the plan. We’ll get the Horn, Shannon shall give it to Hel, and we will all be freed of this shit.”
“The land belongs to Stheno,” Thak reminded me. “Nött’s gone. Just like Freyr is gone from Aldheim. All trapped in Asgaard and Vanaheim. Or elsewhere.”
I gazed at the courtyard. The vast emptiness of the White Court was only broken by the ruins of the former, ancient temple where the gate stood open. It was not a gate crafted out of precious metals or even simple wood. It was magical. There, the air was odd, perhaps a bit murky, as if smoke was drifting from some underground hole.
We’d go through it, and we’d die.
“It’s guarded,” I muttered.
“Huh?” Thak asked, surprised. “What is? Most everything with value, I guess, but you have to be specific. Is this a game from where you come from?”
I shook my head at him and nodded at the gate. “That thing. It’s going to be guarded. They haven’t closed it from the other side, for whatever reason. They will stand guard and we shall have a hard time getting to the tunnels. We will be in peril the moment we step in and try to get anywhere.”
“Shannon sent many draugr through,” Ittisana said and came to look at the court with me. “And some returned. She has something cooking and seemed pleased and thoughtful when the first draugr came back with news. But yes, it’s guarded. She sent more draugr in, and there are messages going in and out, but many don’t make it. At least they cannot force the dead to speak. Torture is useless. We’ll hear back soon.”
“Hear back?” I asked. “From whom? Who is Shannon speaking with?”
Ittisana shook her head. “None of our business. Suffice it to say, Cosia told Shannon some secrets about Scardark, under some uncomfortable conditions.”
“Some secrets you don’t know?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said wistfully. “I’m not very important. Cosia was. Is. And she spoke. She had no choice.” She winked at me for some reason and I felt I was missing something.
“She tortured her?” I asked uncertainly, not sure if I cared if Shannon had. I hated Cosia, the gorgon kin who had been Euryale’s captain.
Thak laughed gutturally. “Serves her right.” He fixed an eye on me. “I’ll tell you. Shannon’s sent emissaries to the Under Lord.” Ittisana fixed a waring eye on him, but Thak shrugged. “He’ll learn it soon anyway. Under Lord is the one you approach in a business like ours.”
I nodded at him. “You know a lot. First, you have been to Dark Waters. Then you know something about Scardark. You know a lot about Svartalfheim. Are you from there? Not Muspelheim?”
He snorted. “All the fire giants are from Muspelheim. Thousands have left it and live elsewhere. I was one. Think. I was prisoner to Euryale,” he reminded me. “Just like the dragon.”
I let that sink in. “The dragon served in Hel’s army when Euryale captured it. After it was wounded.”
“He did serve Hel,” Thak said with a small smile. “And he lived in Svartalfheim.”
“And you did as well?” I asked. “You fought in Aldheim under Hel’s banner once?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “What a mess it was. First Hel summoned mercenaries from all the worlds to avenge her shame over the lost Eye. Then she launched wars across the Nine. We fought the elves of Cerunnos. We fought against Euryale and Stheno, who stole the Eye. And then, Cerunnos was betrayed by Euryale and Stheno, who led the rest of Svartalfheim against Cerunnos, trying to claim the whole world of Aldheim. A terrible mess. Yes, I was captured by Euryale, just like the Masked One was. It happened after Cerunnos killed nearly everyone.”
Right then, something happened at the gate.
The air boomed. The sound was painful and left my ears ringing. I saw a figure running out of the thin air. It hesitated, as if waiting for someone else, but then hurried away in a headlong flight. Draugr rushed out of the shadows, charging with their odd, animal-like gait. Their beautiful elven hair was flying behind as they surged to guard the gate in their hundreds, and thousands more would soon emerge from the battlements and lairs of the dead. The air thrummed again, and a dozen figures emerged, large warriors with huge shields and spears. They were not svartalfs, but brutish beasts with wide, gray faces. Then more came through, and they were seemingly unarmed svartalfs.
They were not unarmed.
The svartalf maa’dark rushed after the running figure.
Spells flashed. Fires grew out of the air before the maa’dark, and tried to reach the fleeing creature. The sizzling hot killing spells ripped across the figure, and I was sure he would die.
The figure disappeared.
But then came into view at the side.
The svartalfs and their guards yelled and pointed at him. More spells reached for the lithe creature. The running figure rolled to the side, and glowing spells of guard grew around him like bands of light, as he ran again. He kept glancing back as he ran. He spun skillfully in the air, barely avoiding a ball of flame that left his cape simmering, and passed the draugr. Arrows fell amongst the svartalfs and creatures that had foolishly entered the court. H
eavy shields clanged together to guard against the draugr, two maa’dark fell on their faces, their bodies filled with arrows. The enemy chanted madly, and retreated as a ring of draugr tightened around them. Desperately, two of the maa’dark pushed out of the shieldwall and sent their fiery spells at the surrounding draugr. A dozen died, chattering and screaming in their final death. The two daring maa’dark died when a spell of ice ripped through them, leaving the ground wet with blood and shattered ice. The rest stepped back and fled, and the air thrummed as they disappeared. The draugr approached the dead ones, wary of the gate.
I turned to Ittisana. “Her spy?” I asked.
She shook her head uncertainly. “A svartalf. One of the other side.”
“Yes. It’s the contact to Scardark,” Thak said, looking at the running figure. “It’s the Under Lord himself. I’ve seen that spell of displacement before.”
Ittisana pushed me. “I’ll find you that book about artifacts. Shannon wanted you to read about Midgard, and the war that took place there, but I think we don’t have time for reading. There is a smaller library in the Citadel. You start preparing. We will leave soon. Go and see her when she calls for you. It will be today.”
***
I climbed up a stairway. From the windows that opened up on each level, I could see activity on the walls. The Citadel and the Shining City—the palaces and the walls around the holiest part of Himingborg—were the domain of the dead. The undead things were toiling mercilessly, had been for hours after the incident at the gate. They were evil, there is no denying that, scheming things who had escaped Hel’s peaceful lands to wreak havoc in the Nine worlds, but they were not disorderly. Meticulous work was going on at the walls, as the dead frantically fixed them. On the other side of the White Court, by the northern wall and in the Silver Spires, the palace that was part of the outer fortification, an ominous rumbling could be heard, as tons of stone collapsed and a dust cloud billowed high up into the air.
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