Broken: Book 2 of the ShadowLight Saga

by Mande Matthews

  "You too," said Emma, "can hunt freely. There is abundant wildlife—rabbits, rats, mice."

  "Such a place exists?" asked an onlooker.

  "It does. Both Erik and I have resided there our entire lives. It's a fertile land with plenty of open space and unclaimed territory. There's plentiful trade, rivers, oceans of fish, and cities in which you can find work and be paid in silver for your efforts!" She turned to Erik, her blonde locks swinging with the force. She raised her brows as if asking him to agree.

  The Conspirators looked at him for affirmation, and Erik saw the hope in their faces. He nodded, and a wave of murmurs broke through the crowd.

  "What is silver?" asked a young woman.

  "Money," said Emma. "You can live from the land, or work at other tasks and get paid so you can buy your goods."

  The woman stared blankly. "There's nei songvaris or weavers to produce goods and food?"

  "Nei," said Emma. "All you need are your hands and your wits and a good day's work."

  Eyebrows pinched downward at the unfamiliar thoughts, but slow smiles started to spread people's faces.

  Mundi spoke. "And how do we get there? Aren't the lands separated?"

  "Not for someone powerful in the shadowwalk. The power of the walk can transport you into the land I speak of. And there is a device that uses that power. It can transport us all into Scandia in a blink."

  Another tremor of hope ran through the people. Even the wolves stood, and paced.

  "And where is this device?" asked Mundi.

  "Glitner," said Emma flatly.

  Protests ran through the crowd now, an angry rebellion replacing the glimmer of hope.

  "Wait," said Emma. "Don't you want a better life? Don't you want to feed your children? Clothe them? Provide for them? Don't you want warmth and shelter and the ability to live freely?"

  Their objections warily switched to acceptance as Emma's voice rose.

  "Then we will march on Glitner, and I will demand your freedom! Hallad Avarson, whether he's the true Guardian or not, he is my blood, and I will not be denied by him! He will comply, and we will be free at last!"

  Not the perfect little peacemaker you thought she was, is she? Loki's voice slithered through the back of Erik's brain.

  Don't you have some poor maiden to defile? Or a half-wit to dumbfound?

  The camp rose into a cheer. They started to chant, "Emma! Emma! Emma!"

  Emma glowed at their praise. She raised her fist in the air and yelled, "Freedom for all!"

  Men, women, children, and wolves gathered around her. Whitefoot clung to the crook of her neck, licking her ear.

  What a heartwarming sight, said Loki. Riling up the masses to march against the Palace.

  Bera and her son pressed behind Emma. The man yelled, "Lord Lothar may be gone, but a new caller has taken his place, and she will lead us to victory!"

  The crowd roared.

  Tension bunched in Erik's shoulders—so many people, so close to her, so willing to follow her. But what if she was getting their hopes up? What if she couldn't deliver on that promise? She had not spoken to Hallad. She didn't know of his mood. Erik pressed through the crowd, trying to get to Emma, but there were too many people, too many wolves, scrunched tight to her, and he could not break through their mass.

  ***

  "Erik, it's simple. All you have to do is gather anyone who has any ability at all in the walk and teach them what to do."

  After the frenzy of the crowd subsided, after Emma commanded them to their tasks, she'd pulled Erik aside and told him of her plan to get to Glitner.

  "Emma," he protested, "it's not as easy as you think."

  "I know you, Erik. I know how powerful you are."

  He shook his head, but her gray eyes shot through him, pleading. "I know you're probably still mad about me leaving, but—"

  "I'm not."

  Emma’s gaze switched back and forth, examining him as if to make sure. "Then please, just do this."

  "Even if you get Hallad to agree, who’s to say that Scandia can even support these people?"

  "Do you see any other solution?"

  Every muscle in Erik's body jumped. If it had been anyone but Emma, he could have refused, he could have screamed and told them they needed to mind their own business, but she stood there, hands on her hips, head tilted up at him with such passion in her eyes. Only he wished that passion was aimed at him, rather than at some mutton-headed cause. Did she even remember she'd refused his marriage proposal?

  He sighed. "You’re right. There’s nei other place for them. I’ll do it. But I won’t promise it will work."

  Emma stood on her toes, kissing him lightly on his mouth. She pulled back. He let her go without an argument and headed out to the crowd to gather every shadowwalker he could find.

  Loki's slick voice snuck back into his head. She bids; you follow. What a good little dog you’ve become. She'll use you until she doesn't need you anymore. Then mark my words, she'll toss you away just like your mother did.

  And this time, Erik didn’t protest.

  Chapter 36

  Astrid trailed the Norn. Her foot caught beneath her, and she stumbled. She swallowed and focused on her footing. An emotion nudged into her awareness: the hot sensation of sweat on one's brow and bile in one's mouth. A palpable worry.

  But whose? Not Hallad's. Not hers.

  She glanced at the Norn ahead of her. The woman's robes fluttered over the ivory floors as she walked, her strides smooth and steady. She followed the line of the woman's figure up to tight shoulders, and spotted it: a bead of sweat trickling down the woman's neck.

  Why would I sense her emotions? And what is she worried about?

  Before she could reason through her own questions, the Norn directed Astrid into a chamber with Gisla and several other young men and women all dressed in the green smocks of the Givers.

  "The First has been detained on other Palace duties, so you'll join the others today. Esa will be in charge of your lessons." She waved her inside, bobbed a curtsy and promptly escaped down the hallway.

  Astrid stared at the others in the chamber who glanced up at her arrival. Gisla flashed her a kind grin. Another Norn, apparently Esa, stood at the opposite end of the chamber, smiled, and waved to an empty chair at the end of a long table.

  A flutter of emotion knocked around Astrid's insides. Apprehension. Worry. Nervousness. Intimidation. Worthiness? She squinted. A knock started somewhere in the back of her head.

  Esa looked just like any other Norn with her white robes, and gray hair pulled into a tight knot at the top of her head, but her age lines creased more heavily than the others, and Astrid wagered she was the eldest of the Norns.

  "You may sit or stand, Svenna; however, you feel comfortable," said Esa.

  She's nervous of me?

  Astrid couldn't rationalize why she sensed the woman's emotions—not just hers, but everyone at the table emitted anxiety.

  That's strange.

  Yet nothing came from Hallad. He remained closed, like a door shut and bolted. Just the numbing calmness came in what used to be "his spot" inside her. Astrid rounded the table and sat next to Gisla. For a breath, she thought she'd missed the chair, and she wobbled before planting her backside on the wooden form. Her eyes darted up to see if anyone had noticed her less than smooth landing.

  Gisla grinned at her, and a rush of warmth joined the parade of apprehension she got from the others.

  A tugging sensation responded, spreading over the back of her skull, as if something was pulling her brain apart and trying to get in. Astrid shook her head, trying to rid herself of the feeling.

  Each place setting had a leaf, a rock, a bowl of water, and a feather in front of it, including Astrid's. She stared at the elements. Her head started to pound.

  With each thump, an image appeared in her mind: The Palace Guardians lacing slipper clad feet, and one commanding, "Be on your highest guard, men. There is nei room for error in this mission."<
br />
  She shook her head again. She squeezed her eyes shut and open, blinking.

  Esa waved her hand toward the table. "We will begin, and I apologize, Svenna, if this lesson is too rudimentary for you." The woman's smile wobbled, and her pale hazel eyes shifted uncertainly.

  Astrid's head thrummed again, and this time, the dwarf, Andvarri, strutted down a snow-laden path, the Skagg Mountains towering before him. He whistled a merry tune, and she felt his heart beam with thoughts of a happy homecoming: his anticipation of rejoining his wife and children, and the simple pleasures of his village.

  She swallowed.

  Esa's brows crumpled upwards, waiting for a response. Had the Norn asked her a question?

  Astrid stared at her; the woman's emotions rushed her as if Astrid's lack of acknowledgement would melt her into a puddle of rejection, so Astrid forced a smile and the woman's shoulders relaxed as more of a grin spread her ancient face.

  Before Astrid could focus any further on the Norn as she began to wave toward the items in front of each of them, a flash of Emma played before Astrid's vision. Emma screamed, rallying the crowd that gathered in behind her. "We march!" Erik stood off to Emma's left, surrounded by bedraggled men and women and even a couple of children. Lines creased Erik's forehead, emitting a palpable wave of worry as he glanced sideways at Emma. Astrid recognized one in the crew as the Conspirator who had kicked a songvari when she was inadvertently spying on Hallad and Ravenna during their shadowwalk in the Broken Lands, but then she spotted the very same woman standing behind Emma, looking no less for the wear. The crowd sent up another cheer, and Emma thrust her arm into the air rallying them. A pack of wolves sprung to her side as Whitefoot rode her shoulder, and Emma beamed with confidence.

  A strong sense of hope, hunger, and redemption overcame Astrid, but also fear and worry. The scenery was surreal, yet she knew it was also true.

  What's going on? Why am I seeing all this? And why is Emma leading a march?

  Astrid was used to shadowwalking without her consent, but before it had always been to Hallad. Now it seemed every visage opened to her whether she deemed it or not.

  "First, let your gaze settle on the leaf," said Esa. "Take in a deep breath down into your belly, then let the breath expand into your ribcage, then up to your chest. Fill your shoulders next and hold the breath inside you for a few heartbeats before allowing the release. Notice how as you fill, the song spreads inside. Do you hear the Mother? Or feel her? Or sense her?"

  "I feel her like a tingling through my heart," said one.

  "A melody rattles through my chest as if it wants to spring forth," said another.

  "She smells of greenness and spice to me," said Gisla.

  "Good, good," said Esa, all the while flickering her gaze from the others to Astrid.

  But Astrid felt everything, and everyone. Along with hearing the song, a grinding noise sounded deep inside the land.

  "Now," instructed Esa, "allow whatever melody that comes forth to form a hum in your throat."

  Astrid glanced around the table. Some sank their eyes closed while others concentrated on the leaf before them. One by one, hums broke from their throats, joining one another in the air.

  Afraid closing her eyes would open her even further to the shadowwalk, Astrid glued her gaze upon the green leaf before her and allowed the sensations to flow through her. Somewhere beneath all the chatter, the song formed in her heart. She placed her hand over the leaf, allowing her palm to hover right above the table. The song vibrated through her, gently nudging its way up from her chest and into her throat.

  All around her, the hums of the others joined, forming a solid chord of sound.

  She inhaled another breath, allowing the air to fill her. The song danced in her neck, right beneath the line of her chin. She could hear the notes in her head—a three note melody attempting to escape. Her throat tickled. It trembled.

  Then the leaves on the table floated up, into the air. All except hers, which stayed stuck to its spot on the table.

  Gisla glanced sideways at her. A flood of the girl's compassion hit Astrid.

  She feels pity for me.

  Astrid's insides triggered.

  She pities me?

  The idea of anyone feeling sorry for her sent jolts of anger up from her belly and into her limbs.

  Her mind flashed again. This time, Hallad appeared on a balcony. Ravenna stood next to him, her hand drifting to touch Hallad’s forearm. But the vision was different from any other shadowwalk she'd had with Hallad, as if she viewed him from another perspective, as if she stood across the Green of the Palace and watched him from a distance, as if she were a stranger to him.

  Ravenna nudged her brother, and Hallad edged in front of her and swept his arm back to greet the crowd. Astrid squinted at her brother's unlikely action.

  Hallad pressed himself to the edge of the balcony. His voice boomed outward. "People of Glitner, I know you fear for the future!"

  A rumble of emotion spread through Astrid—Ravenna’s—a mix of pride and complacency, as if the woman could not be more satisfied with herself.

  Astrid shook her head, trying to return to the leaf and the song. A flash of her own chamber broke through her vision—everyone’s leaf floated in the air. Roots grew from the stems tangling downward. Everyone's but hers.

  The desire to sing flooded her, and she pushed at the base of her throat.

  Nothing came.

  She pushed again.

  The crowd of Glitner pressed back into her awareness, cheering, "Guardian! Guardian!" Hallad waved his hand in a grand gesture commanding their silence as he switched his gaze sideways to Ravenna, as if seeking her approval.

  "People of Glitner," his voice thundered, "I promise you, the Conspirators will be dealt with and under the watch of both the First of Glitner"—his eyes settled on the First, and he smiled warmly at her— "and my own! They will not cause any more harm to the land or its people!"

  More cheers rose.

  The First’s and your watch? What happened to us, Brother?

  Astrid flung her thoughts toward him, but her words never reached him.

  Hallad continued over the roar of the crowd, "And today, we rally all the songvaris who have refused to help our cause. We will bring them back to our fold where they will sing for the good of all! Glitner will be strong again! Our stocks will be replenished! And we will join in song to heal the heart of the Mother!"

  The crowd went wild.

  What is he talking about?

  But Astrid's vision flashed back to the chamber. The room started to spin. The leaf before her started to rise. She gulped but realized still no sound came from her throat. She glanced sideways, and Gisla winked at her. A wave of emotion swam from the girl—embarrassment for her.

  She doesn’t want me to look bad in front of the others.

  Astrid's teeth ground together, making a grating noise inside her head. Her muscles fired. She would have smacked Gisla if she hadn't sensed the girl’s overwhelming desire to "help" her by moving the leaf for her.

  Then, another sensation caught hold of her attention. The hairs on the back of her neck rocketed to a stand. Every one of her warrior senses kicked into gear. Astrid shot up from her seat. The force of standing knocked the chair backwards. It clanged against the floor.

  Everyone gasped, and stopped humming.

  The leaves floated downward, toward the table.

  "Svenna?" asked Esa, her tone studded with caution. "What's the matter?"

  Gisla's warm hand wrapped around Astrid's arm.

  Concern shot at her in every direction—concern, confusion, worry… and fear.

  Her bones buzzed with all the emotions, but the overriding sensation seemed to be her own well-honed warrior-sense.

  Finally the vision took her. A wintry forest spread before her—tall, towering trees, branches bending with the weight of snow. The Lion Clan stalked through the brush, without a sound. Rota held her finger over her mouth while
each warrior rose their weapons at the ready. Olrun and Jorn shadowed her as the group moved through the Sacred Groves.

  No sound penetrated the eerie silence. The place seemed... dead.

  Astrid's skin tingled.

  Something's about to happen.

  She didn’t see what, but she sensed it with every pore in her body. Her muscles screamed. Her blood sped.

  Somewhere in the back of her brain, Gisla's voice registered, "Astrid? What is it? What's wrong?"

  But all she could do was holler, Ambush!

  Ambush! Astrid yelled again, but no one could hear her. Not Rota or Olrun. Not Gisla or the Norn. Not even Hallad.

  Chapter 37

  Warriors with blue painted faces dressed in leather mail shirts, iron helmets, and shields decorated with the Odin's emblem and a black raven, descended from the tree canopy on vines. They sprang from holes camouflaged underneath the cover of snowy leaves and branches. Some skated in over the icy ground on sleds. All converged as one massive army, swarming over the Lion Clan.

  Iron clanged against iron as the drengmaer’s met their attack.

  The oncoming men screamed a guttural war cry, "In the name of the King of Upsalla! For the victory of our god and master!"

  Rota and Olrun turned back to back as their attackers bore down upon them. Jorn stood off in the distance as a third leg in their formation taking the first wave of warriors, but within a heartbeat, three of Upsalla's warriors beat Jorn to the ground. Olrun sprung from her position at Rota’s side, leaping like a giantess through the air to land with a thud a couple of paces from Jorn.

  "Never break formation with your sal drengmaer!" Rota screamed, but she huffed, growled and swung around like Olrun's shorter shadow to cover her sister. An attacker moved in, swinging at Jorn's neck. Olrun's blade clanged against the attacker's ax. She pushed him back before the warrior could slice off Jorn's head. Then Rota headed off the other two attackers, taking them down with a slice through one's thigh and a fist to the other's temple.