Broken: Book 2 of the ShadowLight Saga

by Mande Matthews

  Fenrir whimpered again—a pitiful, growl-like howl at his clumsy mistake.

  Loki pulled his son in tight, ignoring the gash in his chest. "You are the most amazing creation in all the ages. I cannot imagine what my life would have been without you all this time."

  I am a ghastly, hideous beast—just like the boy’s lay, thought Fenrir, but he pressed into his father’s form, taking solace.

  His father loved him. Fenrir knew this without a doubt. When the Guardian discovered Loki had created him through the magic from the Well of Urd and proclaimed Fenrir an abomination, the Guardian created this prison for both him and his father. Before the Guardian had the chance to imprison them, Loki reached for the power one last time. He could have used that power for himself. He could have saved his own skin but instead, he gifted Fenrir with the ability to shape-shift, allowing him to escape into the worlds and live free. Though the tales cast blame on Loki for the man-wolf-beast’s creation, Fenrir knew the truth. It was them: the Guardian and the Mother. They are the ones that imprisoned his father. They are the ones that tainted the magic with fear of their own. And they are the ones that will pay for what they’ve done to them.

  "Soon," said Loki, "the girl will be ours, my love, and soon we will both be free."

  Chapter 27

  "I realize you’re betrothed, but you don’t need to hide her from me. I’m trying to help her." Daidu loomed over Erik.

  The man’s size—tall and well-toned—bothered Erik. Hallad’s height never irritated him, but this man used his size like a weapon of intimidation, pushing into Erik’s personal space. Daidu’s muscular shoulders bunched under his colorfully trimmed knee-length tunic, and he hovered with his arms tensed at his sides, as if ready for action at any moment. Plus, he smelled musky, like a buck in season.

  "I’m not hiding her. She doesn’t want to talk to you." Erik would have grinned at his triumphant comeback if he hadn’t been looking for Emma all day himself. His gut pinched at the thought—where had she gone off to? Usually Erik could feel her presence like an unseen sense, but all he felt was a void.

  I shouldn’t have ignored her. I just didn’t know what to say after she refused me, and she kept asking all those annoying questions. She didn’t mean she’d never marry me. She meant not now, right?

  "The First asked me to train her. I am the most gifted caller of this age." Erik rolled his eyes at the man’s arrogance, but Daidu pressed on. "My guidance could help her come to terms with her power. Surely you see I am the best choice for helping her, my man?"

  Erik snorted. "I’m not your man or part of your herd, and neither is Emma. So back off."

  Erik turned and strutted off to find Hallad.

  Maybe he’s seen Emma?

  Daidu called at his back, "If you see her, tell her I need to meet with her."

  Erik knew the man would keep pursuing Emma. He snorted again, waving off Daidu without another glance.

  Not if I find her first.

  Moments later, Erik rapped on the wall outside of Hallad’s chambers. Even though Givers had been positioned throughout their wing of the Palace, none of the Scandians liked having the Givers open and close their doors for them—it felt too much like imprisonment—so for the most part, they remained opened.

  "Come." Hallad’s voice sounded from within—a deep, commanding tone he’d possessed since his early teens. Even as a child, Hallad’s tone rang an octave lower than the other boys. It had always given him an edge for leadership despite his position as Godhi’s son.

  Erik entered.

  Hallad tossed back the bed linens, examining every inch of the mattress. His drawers had been emptied. Clothes were strewn across the floor. The Norns provided Hallad with a wardrobe of blue tunics woven with the Guardian Tree, satiny trousers, and slippers like the other Palace Guardians, except Hallad’s was embroidered with more intricate weavings on the neck, waist, and arms, and now they lay in piles over the floor.

  After more scrambling, Hallad planted himself on a chair and blew a golden curl from in front of his eye.

  "I know it was here. Maybe it fell from my pocket somewhere in the Palace."

  "What?"

  Hallad shook his head, his eyes still darting over the room. "If I’ve lost it—"

  "Lost what?"

  Hallad gazed up at Erik; his jaw clenched tight. "Promise you won’t say anything?"

  Erik nodded, but one of Rolf’s retorts flew through his head—my lips are strung as tightly as a virgin’s apron strings—and he smiled at the memory.

  "In the wrong hands, it could be dangerous…"

  Erik raised his brows at his friend, urging him to continue.

  "I’ve lost the dyrr."

  The statement wiped the grin from Erik’s lips. His gut constricted. "What do you mean, lost?"

  "I thought it was in my pocket last night, but now I can’t find it anywhere."

  "And you’ve looked everywhere?"

  Hallad gestured to the upturned room and shrugged.

  "Could someone have taken it?" Someone like Emma? A slick slither turned his stomach inside out. She wouldn’t.

  Hallad shook his head. "The First was with me last night. Emma stopped by, but just for a moment."

  The vein in Erik’s forehead started to pulse. I wouldn’t help her get to the wolves. She… She wouldn’t. Would she?

  "It has to be here." Hallad smoothed his big hands over the bedding, searching for lumps. He stopped and caught Erik’s gaze. "If someone got hold of it, they could use it to invade the Palace. They could—"

  "You’ll find it," Erik interrupted, backing out of the chamber.

  "I’d better." Hallad picked up a pair of trousers and searched through the pockets.

  Erik rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. His calves bounced, ready to race. I should have never refused her.

  "I’m relying on that dyrr to..."

  Erik already turned and ran, Hallad’s words a whisper behind his back. He dashed through the corridors into his room and grabbed his broadsword. Then, within a blink, Erik entered the shadowwalk.

  Chapter 28

  "I don’t want anyone alerted to the theft," said Ravenna. "If the culprit gets word of our search, they may flee. We need to know who has betrayed us, and we need to retrieve the dyrr."

  The First swayed toward Hallad and sat next to him. He held his head in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees.

  "I didn’t say it was stolen."

  "What else could it be?"

  "I dropped it somewhere."

  Ravenna’s voice took on that sing-song quality it made whenever she spoke to Hallad. "I know you wouldn’t have been that careless. I admire your need to take responsibility, but Alvenheim’s politics have always been complicated. There are spies and Conspirators everywhere. If someone has stolen the dyrr—even if they just found it on the ground and have not returned it—we have become that much more vulnerable to an attack."

  Hallad ruffled his hair and sat upright. "You’re right."

  Ravenna pressed her hand into his thigh—the gesture both powerful and intimate at the same time.

  "What of the outbreak the night we arrived?"

  "Our spies and eyes have reports from different parts of the land. After your sister's fight against the Palace Guardians, even more suspicions have been raised about your rightfulness. The removal of the offending party helped quell the unrest, but the rumors of your sister's sword bearing attack abound. We need to work to win the people of Glitner and the border lands will follow."

  "And what of Scandia?"

  "Reports verify summer has not come in most, if not all of Scandia. Since Alvenheim and Scandia are realms that occupy the same space as if they lay on top of one another, the same will follow here."

  "What do you mean when you say they lay atop one another?"

  "Think of it this way: Glitner and the Sacred Groves are in the same place; but after the Guardian spoke the word ages ago, neither land can touch one another
. It's the same for every place in both lands. Ginnungagap and the Skagg Mountains are in the same place, as well as Asheim and Stonewall and all the rest of the places in our lands. Though Alvenheim is closest to the heart of the Mother, if one land fails, the other eventually fails too. It is a dark time, Hallad Avarrson."

  He turned an intense gaze on her. "I will not allow harm to come to any of us. Not my sister, not you, not any of us here in the Palace. Dyrr or nei dyrr, I will find a way to protect us all."

  "And how will you hold back the Shadow if your sister doesn’t sing?"

  Hallad’s head wobbled like a tree waving in the wind. "I don’t know."

  "Which is why we need to find the dyrr. I will make other arrangements, but if we don’t get to Asheim soon, we may not be able to help her at all."

  "Are you sure Asheim is our best option?"

  "The songvaris have hidden there for many seasons, but they cannot stand idle any more. As time passes, less and less of the population is being born with the touch of the Mother. That's why we need all the resources we can muster. If we rally them and join all their power in song, maybe we can mend the land. At least enough to buy your sister time to find her voice."

  Hallad ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the length. "How go her lessons in song?"

  Ravenna pinched her lips closed. The two sat in silence, staring at one another.

  From her silent, shielded view afforded by the shadowwalk, Astrid ground the heels of her palms into her eyelids. I cannot keep watching them! And yet, her mother’s voice had told her: The walk allows you to see beyond, that’s all. It breaks the veils between the worlds. How can it be evil?

  How could the shadowwalk not be bad when here she sat, spying on her brother, once again, without the ability to control her connection? Hallad and Ravenna played across her vision as if they stood in front of her, and yet, she lay prostrate on her bed, wishing to gouge her sight with the pressure of her hands.

  Astrid removed her hands from over her eyes and stared up at the soft glow of rune stones set in the ceiling. There, in the stone, Hallad and Ravenna’s forms floated—wherever she looked, they were there. She wondered if she could draw the ward without physically entering the walk—even if the walk proved to be a power, neither right nor wrong—surely, spying through the walk was immoral, regardless of whether she could control it or not.

  Algiz! she commanded, but nothing happened. No spark of light. No bubble of protection. The visions of her brother and the First still played—meshed with the view of the ceiling.

  Astrid tossed in the bed, tangling her boots in the linens, grappling with her mother’s words.

  Do not be afraid to use the walk.

  She turned again, and Hallad reached for Ravenna’s cheek, grazing her skin with his fingers. Her brother traced the raven tattoo, outlining the black form with his caress.

  Astrid closed her eyes, but the view of her brother continued.

  "Why did they brand you?" asked Hallad.

  Ravenna reached up, placing pale fingers over Hallad’s tanned hand, holding him still.

  She glanced down, unable to look him in the eye.

  "Did it hurt?"

  "Nei, the branding does not hurt. It’s the humiliation of being marked as the Shadow’s that is painful."

  "But you’re the First of Glitner. You have nei connection with the Shadow. Why would they mark you?"

  "When I was young, my father noticed my ability in the walk. It came abruptly. I was a toddler when I started seeing other people and other places. In those days, the Palace marked everyone who showed ability in the walk unless they were also touched by the Mother. I had not shown any ability in touch at that point, and the Palace needed to mark those with the dark power so they could be identified to the populace. Walkers without the touch could not withstand the call of the Shadow, and most of them bent to his will. They did his bidding and could not be trusted. Which is why, incidentally, I’m worried about your friend, Erik. His power is strong. The pull toward the Shadow will be strong as well."

  "Erik’s tough and stubborn. I don’t think you need to worry about him."

  "Regardless, the Shadow works in manipulative, backhanded ways. We need to keep an eye on him."

  Hallad shook his head. "I’ve nei doubts with Erik."

  Ravenna studied him for a moment, then continued, "Anyway, back when I was branded, the Palace needed to know who could fall under the Shadow’s command. The branding lasted for a few seasons before the protests put a stop to it—calling it a cruel and unfair practice. I happened to be one of a few hundred who were marked."

  "But you are touched by the Mother."

  "Like I said, not when I was branded. I came to the touch later in life. I was pushing fifteen summers when I finally sang. That is why I hoped to help your sister. I thought I understood her."

  Ravenna’s gaze reached Hallad’s eyes. The two sat motionless staring at one another. Then Hallad’s hand cupped Ravenna’s jaw. He guided her face to his.

  A rush of desire flooded Astrid. Her body heated. Her lips parted. She realized the emotion wasn’t her own but her brother’s. She blinked in rapid succession, trying to rid herself of the vision of her brother and the First, of her brother’s desire for the woman invading her, but they assailed her body.

  Astrid shot upright, panting. She reached for her sword. She stopped momentarily, remembering the pain she’d experienced using her sword in the corridor, but the connection to her brother bid her to grab the iron. She swung the blade around her head until her mind quieted. She concentrated on her own movements. Within a couple of breaths, the overwhelming passion of her brother subsided. She managed to bottle his emotions inside her, push them down, even though the vision of them continued.

  Then Hallad kissed Ravenna.

  Astrid wanted to pull her eyes from her sockets. She turned her head away. She closed her eyes hard and reopened them, focusing on the branch entwined walls—but the vision of the two lovers remained regardless of what she did to stop it.

  During it all, Astrid could only think about how much she disliked that woman.

  A rush of guilt swept over her. How could she abhor Ravenna when her brother was so obviously beguiled by her?

  She swallowed and swished her sword in a figure-eight above her, focusing on the tip of her blade.

  Finally Hallad pulled back and separated himself from the First. "Did you hate your father for reporting you?"

  Ravenna shook her head; her black pony tail swished over her back. "Nei. My father was right to expose me. He brought me to the Palace, and they branded me so that all would know I possessed the dark power. We need to know who possesses the power. We cannot be ignorant and need to stay vigilant. The Shadow is a manipulator, a trickster, and he uses people, sometimes without their knowledge. Therefore it’s our duty to keep watch upon whomever becomes Shadow Sworn. Even though I was branded, my power in the touch excelled, and I am the first walker to become the First of Glitner. It has served me well and had my father not exposed me, I would not be where I am today."

  Astrid continued exercising with her sword until all connections to the walk quieted: no more visions, no more emotions, no more unwanted intrusions came to her. She ran through every maneuver Balin ever taught her for what seemed like a hundred times each until she slunk back onto her mattress, closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  ***

  The black-haired man pressed into Astrid, his body tight against her own.

  "I have wanted you from the moment I knew you’d been created." His words whispered against her neck, heating her flesh with his breath.

  Astrid quivered, allowing herself to sink into the Shadow’s embrace. Her breath quickened.

  If I fall into him, into his darkness, into the blackness that lingers inside me, I won’t have to fight any more. I won’t have to wonder what’s inside. I’ll know. And my brother will hate me for it.

  "I will show you exactly what you seek," the Shadow con
firmed. "Nei one but me knows your truth."

  His lips brushed her neck. She arched, allowing him to trail his kisses up to her jaw line… her chin… then cover her mouth. His tongue plunged inside, exploring her as if to draw out the dark thing that lived inside.

  Astrid moaned. She wanted him. Her body fired in places she never knew could come alive. His sweat slicked her skin. His hardness pressed against her.

  A distant memory tickled her brain: You are my ljos, my light.

  The man’s body entangled with hers, their skin morphing to a mist of milky-whiteness. His black hair and her white wove together until their bodies broke into dust, sending a cloud of dark and light into the air. The particles flew into the worlds and blanketed the lands, turning everything gray.

  You are a magnificent creature filled with love and light. You will be a glorious beacon for all who await your coming. Her mother’s words played in her mind as a memory.

  Even so, her body continued to heat. Sensations pricked her skin like an overwhelming shudder of desire. She shot upright, fully awake, heaving gulps of air into the night.

  A dream. Only a dream. Not the Shadow. Not the walk.

  But wait…

  A voice rung through her mind. It sang along inside her head like a mix of humming and a wordless melody. The tone of the sound momentarily hypnotized her, as if she were captured and unable to move. She shook loose of its grip, then the song broke into moans, and the vision of her brother and Ravenna—a tangle of naked flesh in the most intimate of positions—besieged her sight.

  The heat—the desire—she had experienced was not hers, but theirs.

  Her stomach curdled.

  I’ve spied on my own kin?

  She wanted to vomit.

  I have to make this stop! Right or wrong, I have to control the walk!