Broken: Book 2 of the ShadowLight Saga

by Mande Matthews

  She wriggled from beneath him. Weyland howled and Hlif slunk to the beast's side.

  Svol padded to Emma, bowing his head while Whitefoot's tail bushed, and he hissed like a mad-cat at Weyland. The edges of the beast's lips turned upwards in what looked like a smirk.

  At Svol's movement, the other pack members fell into rank behind him and Arvak—all except Hlif, who sat obediently at Weyland’s side.

  Emma sunk her fingers into Svol's shiny black fur, releasing a gush of air from her lungs. Thank you, Svol. Though I cannot assure our outcome, I believe if we stay at each other’s backsides, we’ll have a far better chance than alone, or than with the Shadow.

  You've risked much to prove yourself. We choose to live and die beside you.

  And I promise you, I will do everything I can to make sure we live.

  Emma buried her head in Svol's scruff before pulling back and standing upright.

  "We will not join you or your master." Emma aimed her speech at Weyland.

  The beast growled back.

  And though Bera and her son pressed in behind Emma, Erik, Whitefoot and the wolves, the rest of the Conspirators formed a line in front of Weyland and the white wolf. Emma knew she had lost them for good.

  ***

  Do you think you can keep her safe? Against my army? Against thousands? Loki's voice slithered through Erik's mind, but he grabbed for Emma's sleeve, pulling her upright against the arm-bearing Conspirators and the chaos of slaughter swirling around them.

  How many times do I need to tell you to shut up before you get the hint?

  Loki laughed. It's time to stop resisting me. Have the girl if you must, but join me to keep her from, what shall I call it? An untimely death.

  I'm not interested in your lies. You delivered us into the fray knowing you'd give me nei choices.

  I sent you where you asked to go, and now you're here. There was nei trick in that.

  Wasn't there?

  The Shadow's laughter broke again, a satisfied sound clanking in Erik's brain. Weyland howled, his jaw cranking back, his snout reaching for the black sky. The roll of his breath caught in the air like white ribbons.

  The Conspirators raised their weapons high. "The Shadow will free us!" they screamed.

  A woman, babe cradled in her arms, snuck from the crowd, crossing the short distance between the Conspirators and Emma.

  "Fool!" yelled Mundi, as the woman took refuge behind the wolf pack. "You'll die with them!"

  The woman squeezed the child to her breast and raised her chin at Mundi.

  A smile made of pure hope spread over Emma's lips though Loki continued inside Erik's head.

  You'll all die. And for what? A woman who lied to you? Left you?

  I don't know what atrocity your mother did to make you so black. Erik hardened himself against Loki's words. His mind searched for a solution as he shot back at the Dark Lord—where would they go? How could they get out of here alive? But all women are not like your mother—especially not my Emma.

  She created me! Laboring breath followed the echoing scream. Abruptly, Loki's tone leveled to an emotionless state before continuing. Then she hated me for what I was. Just like your beloved hates you now that she knows your truth.

  You're wrong, said Erik. Emma knows me—all of me—of my parentage, of hearing your call—and she accepts me wholly.

  And yet she refused your proposal. She lied to you. She left you. And she'll do it again and again.

  Erik gazed at Emma. If she has such faith, so can I. He straightened his back and blocked the Shadow's words. He pulled at Emma's sleeve, bringing her close to him. "I can't get us all out of here through the walk. I could take you to safety—"

  "But—" Emma turned, her eyes flashing.

  "But I know we cannot leave these people or the wolves. I understand that now."

  She grinned at him, then, even though they stood against a wavering hoard.

  "I love you, Erik Sigtriggson."

  "I know you do," he said. "And I'll never doubt you again."

  "You doubted me?" she let out a sad laugh. "Of course. The way I behaved—"

  Erik shushed her with a finger to her lips. "The point is, I understand why you left. But now? We do this together."

  "Together," she agreed.

  "The Shadow can't pull us apart because we love one another, Emma. It's not you alone. Or me protecting you. If we intend on getting these people and animals to safety, it's going to take you and me together."

  The smile creasing her lips lit like a beacon. She beamed—that look he adored and had not seen for what seemed like ages.

  Whitefoot twitched his nose, then nibbled Emma’s ear roughly, making her jerk.

  "I don't know how, Erik, but Whitefoot smells Rota and the drengmaers."

  "Can he get to them?"

  "I don't know."

  "Will he try?"

  "Ja."

  "Then here is what we're going to do—"

  But before he could relay his plan, Whitefoot shimmied, then jumped from Emma's gown, dodging axes and swords, and fallen citizens, as he followed his nose.

  "Can you contact the reindeer, Em?"

  Emma's eyes twinkled like stars lighting the sky. "I can."

  Erik sought her hands, taking both in his own. He squeezed her fingers firmly, and she squeezed back.

  "Together," she said. "Even after death we won’t part. Promise me, Erik Sigtriggson."

  "We’re not going to die, but I promise Emma. I promise we’ll always be together."

  He held her gaze and hoped he spoke true—that this would not be their end.

  Weyland howled, and the entire army of the Conspirators barreled down upon them as thunder clapped in the sky above.

  Chapter 47

  Lightning flashed, slicing down at the balcony on which Astrid, Ravenna, and Hallad stood. A slick crack sounded. The stone beneath them split, ripping in two.

  Astrid’s head spiraled—the pain of stone breaking, of citizens dying, of fear, of confusion, and even the frenzy of blood-lust from Upsalla's warriors washed over her. She gulped, straightening, fighting to keep upright, though the lack of connection to her brother left her off-balance and unknowing of where to place her feet as the balcony groaned, threatening to crumble beneath them.

  She reached for Hallad. He still supported Ravenna in one arm and his sword in the other, but his feet slipped as broken stone tumbled away from them, chunks crashing to the ground a story beneath them.

  "Take my hand," yelled Astrid.

  Even through the chaotic rumbling, the blackening sky, the bitter air and the awkwardness of speaking out loud, Astrid's tone still hinted of summer warmth and bells at Springtide. But the sound of the young woman's voice was no comfort in the chaos of her feelings—the sensations of everyone and everything around her. Her own words wavered in her ears like a scant echo beneath the sea as she fought to keep her wits.

  Astrid stretched her fingers toward Ravenna as the woman flailed with nothing but Hallad's strong grip around her waist to keep her from falling.

  The First's face paled another notch, leeching any remaining color. Even the raven tattoo blurred at its edges, its blackness beginning to blend with the white of her skin. Ravenna's eyes frantically searched the perimeter.

  Astrid snatched the woman's arm just as the three fell—their bodies dropping along with the crumbling stone. As Astrid's fingers made contact, she focused on the ground. The familiar tingling overtook her—fighting for space with all the other sensations that accosted her—and within a blink, all three settled their feet onto what remained of the city streets of Glitner.

  Behind them, a boom followed by a surge of dust, reverberated as the remains of the balcony crashed to the ground. Hallad wobbled at their unexpected landing but swung back around, releasing the First.

  "Our mother!" he yelled.

  Astrid followed his trajectory, but Balin already held Isla, cradled in the pocket of his arms. The bear of a man sprung fr
om the jagged edge of the Palace—left from the collapsing balcony—like a leaping bear. His knees buckled as they hit ground, but he sprung upright and ran while Isla sang. A bright yellow light exploded around them. Debris bounced from the light perimeter as they shot through the streets toward Astrid and Hallad.

  A line of songvaris, Norns, and Guardians—including Gisla and Ase who had appeared at some point in the commotion—gazed down from the tumbling edge of the Palace.

  A roar broke from behind them. A giant gush of water flooded as the waterways of Glitner broke loose, heading straight for them.

  "Sing!" screamed Hallad. "Sing yourselves to safety!"

  The group above flashed uncertain looks at one another. Finally, Gisla took Seretta’s hand on one side, a Guardian’s on the other; her voice tumbled from her mouth, unsure. Seretta nodded, taking the lead from the apprentice, and others joined in.

  Wind stirred, grew and swirled. The breeze hardened into a gale, lifting crumbled rock and stone, until a churning stairway of rubble formed, hovering in the air like a strange tornado. The water slapped the wall of air and missed the singers; the flood poured around and over the sides of the broken building. The songvaris, Guardians and Norns, scrambled down, continuing their song until all stood stably on ground. Then their tone faltered; the breeze let up, and the rocks plunged back to the ground, kicking dirt in the air as they crashed.

  The survivors huddled, cowering at the resounding crash. Rune stones flickered in the rubble, sending streams of yellow light into the black clouds above.

  All the while, Ravenna turned in circles, as if searching for something... or someone. Finally, she stopped, her eyes flitting back and forth at a wild pace. She nodded at nothing, turned and set her gaze on Hallad.

  The First strode toward him and touched him on the small of his back.

  "We must fight." Her voice remained low, but a melody accompanied her tone.

  At the sound of her, Hallad turned. A daze crossed over his features. He started to nod, but Astrid crossed to Ravenna.

  "What did you just do to my brother?"

  Ravenna shook her head.

  "What were you looking at, over yonder?"

  At the same time, the King of Upsalla's men spotted them. Their cries lit the air like the sizzle of fire. They raised their weapons and rushed forward.

  Hallad reacted, lifting his own sword, pushing protectively in front of both Ravenna and Astrid. He dashed to meet the onslaught of warriors heading their way. Instead of following, instead of raising her sword and crying out for blood, Astrid grabbed Ravenna's wrist and twisted.

  "What were you looking at?" Astrid’s heightened tone echoed; the air around her crackled. She checked her voice, fearing she'd call an unwanted power again.

  Ravenna met Astrid's eyes; she shook her head again and again.

  "Nothing. I see nothing."

  "Then who?" The rumble behind Astrid's tone startled even her, as if a violent song played beneath her words.

  The clang of iron against iron sliced Astrid's eardrums as Hallad met the first of the fray. Each blow Hallad delivered to his attackers clunked inside Astrid’s body, like the blows beat her bones. She experienced it all—Ravenna’s desperation, the citizens’ fear, the songvaris’ confusion, the Guardians’ adrenaline, Balin's fierce protection and her mother's somber acceptance. She felt everyone and everything. Everyone except for Hallad.

  Her brother yelled over his shoulder, "Sing!" to the Guardians, the Norns, and songvaris.

  Ravenna joined his cry, "You must sing for our lives!"

  A melody teetered through the air as one, then another Guardian and Norn began a song, but the songvaris of Asheim tensed, flashing concerned looks back and forth.

  "We will not fight them," said Seretta.

  "Answer me," demanded Astrid once more, leveling her gaze on Ravenna. "Whose command do you follow?"

  The First pulled out of Astrid's grip, pushed past her and addressed the crowd, "We must fight or die by our song!"

  But Astrid swiveled, reached around Ravenna's waist, pulled her in tight and edged the side of her blade up to her neck. As her blade slicked against the First's skin, the sensation grazed her own neck as well. Though the nauseating well of emotion rumbled inside her, Astrid tightened her grip around Ravenna.

  "What. Were. You. Looking. At?" The words seethed out between Astrid’s teeth.

  "Sister?" Hallad's voice caught her ears.

  She glanced up, seeing his face stretch into horror as he glanced backwards. The distraction nearly cost him a blow from a frenzied warrior, but Hallad's reflexes kicked in; he turned and sliced off the man's head in one swipe.

  The death blow registered in Astrid as if her own spine broke, as if her own head flew from her neck. Nausea swamped her gut. She bit back the bile whipping up her windpipe. She focused and forced all her will to one aim; she pulled herself and Ravenna into the shadowwalk.

  Chapter 48

  Astrid and Ravenna materialized within the blackness of clouds, hovering over Glitner. A crack jarred them as thunder rolled, lighting up the misty darkness around them. They floated above the ruined city as war raged below them.

  Ravenna shivered beneath Astrid's iron grip—from the sight below, the icy wetness in the air and the strike of lightning, illuminating the clouds around them. The First turned away from the scene, tucking her cheek to her shoulder, her lips quivering, but Astrid grabbed the woman's jaw and forced her to look down.

  "Is this the fight you wanted? Is this the result you've been striving for?"

  Ravenna's teeth rattled as Astrid pinched her jaw, thrusting her head toward the ruins below.

  "Nei, I wanted safety for the Mother. Not this. Never this."

  "What is it that you're always gazing at in the distance?"

  The air chilled another notch, dropping. The wetness in the atmosphere intensified as if a slick, wet blanket fell across them. Droplets, a mixed array of rain and sleet, released around them.

  Ravenna refused to answer.

  Astrid blinked and switched their vision to Ginnungagap. The Skagg Mountain range, once in Scandia, pressed up through the Gap. The river beneath raged inside the mountain range, breaking and reshaping the interior of the peaks. The young woman honed her sight inward, showing Ravenna the dwarves trapped inside the morphing mountains. Walls pressed in on them. Ceilings collapsed. Heavy beams trapped some of the villagers of Gnarn while others suffocated in dust-ridden caverns turned prisons. She pulled in closer to the devastation, spotting Andvarri. He screamed, running through a collapsing tunnel as rock fell from the ceilings, chasing him into an abyss.

  "Ysja! Where are you?" he yelled, but the dwarf’s voice drowned in the rumble of the cavern.

  The little man's terror, his pounding heart, his labored breath, rifled through Astrid's body. She wanted to reach out to him, pull him back through the walk, but to what? War? He dissolved into the blackness of the caverns as Astrid watched, until she could bear it no more. She switched her perspective again, showing Ravenna Birka and Hope's Haven merging. The two cities collapsed into chaos, with citizens of both blindly fighting one another without cause, driven by confusion and fear.

  Another view showed them Stonewall crashing into Asheim—the crystals of the caverns falling on the dwarves of Stonewall like deadly spears.

  Yet another switch of Astrid's sight and they returned to viewing Glitner. Trees from the Sacred Grove popped through the crust of the earth or materialized in buildings, busting them apart, or appeared, crushing citizens, warriors, and songvaris: the merge was not particular in who was trapped or murdered in the violence. And through it all, the gray mist of the in-between world swirled, spreading across the lands.

  Women of the Way sprang up as corpses, or injured, or caged, or bound: weaponless and helpless. Rota, Olrun and Jorn appeared locked within an iron cage, though the big drengmaer lay still in Jorn's lap as Rota beat her fists upon the iron grates.

  On the far side of th
e battle, Erik and Emma huddled around a small group of women and one man and a pack of wolves. Erik threw himself down, commanding them, "Dive down!" while a massive beast-like creature, part man, part wolf, all monster ran at them with a horde of Conspirators and a white wolf at his side.

  "Now, Emma, now!" cried Erik again.

  "I've called them! They're coming," she said, her eyes wide. "But it will be too late!"

  "Come close! Touch one another! Emma, tell the wolves!"

  They huddled into a massive ball on the ground, pressing in as close as they could to one another.

  As the monstrous beast bared down on them, Astrid's body fizzled, and she shadowwalked between the beast and Emma's group, dragging the First with her. Ravenna screamed as the creature ran at them, growling at their appearance. Astrid released the First, unsheathed her sword, bent at her knees and settled her feet solidly on the ground, while Ravenna darted away.

  The beast swiped one massive paw at her. Astrid blocked with her sword, clipped his wrist and sliced through fur and meat. He yelped at the injury, saliva dripping from his open jaw.

  As Astrid's blade severed the creature's skin, her own wrist burned. The pain of the slice weakened her grip; she almost dropped her sword, but the creature still advanced. She hopped backward; the creature pressed forward into her. She stabbed his leg; simultaneously, her own thigh gave beneath her.

  How could she fight him if she felt every blow she dealt?

  She swiveled around as Conspirators rushed by her—toward Emma and Erik. She couldn't block them, not with the creature advancing, not with the handicap of feeling everyone's pain.

  Erik dove atop the cowering group, covering them with his own body, and suddenly, they all vanished.

  The beast stopped, looked, threw its massive head back and howled. The bellow ripped through the air.