Amy Sumida - Tracing Thunder (The Godhunter Series Book 13)

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Amy Sumida - Tracing Thunder (The Godhunter Series Book 13) Page 9

by Unknown


  “The closed paths will open to her,” a man stepped forward and they spoke together.

  “And she shall become the Trinity Star,” the rest of the elves joined in. “Alfheim will be called to pay its debt, bound by blood and earth, but within the star lies the power to free the world. All shall balance on the point of the star. If she shines, order shall be restored, but if the light of the star is extinguished, all shall fall into darkness with her.”

  There was a heavy silence following the prophecy. It was a little too heavy for me.

  “So that doesn't sound so bad,” I smiled at Odin. “I need to shine. I like shiny things.”

  “Sure,” he chuckled. “Just the falling into darkness part is perhaps cause for concern.”

  “It said I have the power to free Alfheim,” I mused. “Maybe I don't have to claim it after all.”

  “You'd give it up?” Freyr lost all his bluster in exchange for becoming utterly stunned.

  “What am I going to do with a whole Norse world?” I huffed. “I've got too much on my plate as it is.”

  “But you claimed it,” Freyr looked confused, partially with himself for arguing with me. “Why claim it if you don't want it?”

  “I didn't do that on purpose,” I frowned, looking inward toward my dragon. She felt smug inside my chest, curled up around the nine-pointed star happily. “My dragon did. She was programmed to claim it I think. I barely knew what I was saying.”

  “Well, there you go,” Odin waved a hand out to Freyr. “She doesn't want Alfheim, Yngvi. You can relax.”

  “But you said a fey bargain can't be avoided,” he persisted for some unknown reason.

  “Okay, look,” I held up my hands and felt my dragon lifting her head inside my chest. She wasn't going to like this. “I understand what my mother was trying to do way back then but now I'm not just a faerie, I'm a goddess too and I understand you guys better than she did. I trust you more. More importantly, I trust Odin and if he says that you're the best god to rule Alfheim, then I believe him.”

  Everyone turned to Odin.

  “He is,” Odin's tone was serious, his eyes earnest, but I knew him too well. There was a seed of doubt within him. A seed he was burying for a good reason. I'd just have to trust that his reasoning was right and there wouldn't be a bitter harvest later.

  “That's good enough for me,” I said despite the lingering unease in my belly. “I renounce my claim to Alfheim and give it over to your rule.”

  The elves gasped and looked toward Freyr.

  “I...” he seemed to reach some kind of decision. “I accept the rule of Alfheim from the Trinity Star!”

  The elves cheered, ushering Odin and I forward through the room and to the high table at the end of the hall, on a wave of happiness. Part of me was a little insulted by their enthusiasm. They didn't even know me, maybe I'd have been a better ruler than Freyr. Then the more rational part of me stepped up and smacked the stupid part of me in the face.

  My mother may have wanted this for me but I wasn't the same me anymore. Aednat died before she could remove the spell of humanity from Sabine and so Sabine died. Sabine was meant to rule Alfheim, not I. I could barely rule the Intare. What was I going to do with a bunch of skinny elves? Yes, I was a little bitter over their ethereal beauty. Sue me.

  The skinny, I mean lovely, elves showed us to our seats at the high table and then flowed away like the tide, off to their own tables. Mead was brought out in large drinking horns and round after round of toasts were made to Odin and I. I know there was food at some point but the mead was having more of an affect on me than I'd thought possible and I barely remember eating. Even Odin seemed to be getting intoxicated, something I'd never seen before.

  I do remember Freyr smiling at me a lot, probably ecstatic that he got to keep his world all to himself. Then it all became a little too loud and bright in the way that things do when you're really drunk. So we made our excuses and stumbled after an elf who showed us to our room for the night.

  My last thought before I succumbed to sleep was that I had to remember to ask Freyr for his mead recipe.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I woke up in chains. Again. You'd be surprised how often that happens to me.

  I blinked awake and looked around hesitantly. Odin was gone. So was the whole bedroom, for that matter. I was chained to a rock. Yes, a rock. Well, I guess it was more like a boulder. Whatever it was, there was a massive ring set into it and I was attached to the ring with some serious shackles. At least I'd been put on a comfy mattress. That was a thoughtful touch.

  I sat up and the chains clanked together. Damn, they were heavy too. Though they were very large chains, they were heavier than chains that size should have been. It took almost all of my strength to move and I was no weakling anymore. I leaned back against the rock wall of what appeared to be a cell, and huffed with exertion. What was all this about?

  A barred door at the end of the cave-like cell, opened and Freyr walked in. He looked at my sprawled position and gave a little satisfied smile. There was a simple wooden chair in the corner. He picked it up and placed it in front of me, then sat in it and crossed one leg over the other. He took a long moment to look me over.

  “You gonna tell me what this is all about or just sit there looking like a smug creep?” I eyed him. “And where's Odin?”

  “Odin is lying on the shores of Asgard's lake,” Freyr smiled wider. “He's fine. We sailed him home during the night.”

  “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “Hel had nothing to do with it.” He said it with a completely straight face.

  “Hell, H-E-double hockey sticks,” I rolled my eyes. “Not Hel, Trevor's Aunt.”

  “Trevor?” He frowned. I guess I ruined his joke.

  “Fenrir's eldest son, VéulfR,” I gave him my duh look.

  “I'm not familiar with Fenrir's children,” he shrugged, “but Lucifer's territory had nothing to do with it either.”

  “Oh sweet baby light elves,” I heaved a huge sigh. “Will you just get on with it? What did you do to us?”

  “Oh fine,” he grimaced. “I've only been waiting for this moment for hundreds of years but if you need to know right now, I enchanted you two.”

  “Enchanted?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like with a spell?”

  “Like with a potion slipped into your mead,” he chuckled. “I thought it rather fitting as Odin himself used to employ the same method on occasion.”

  “Uh huh,” I grit my teeth. “And why did you feel it was necessary to chain me in the heaviest chains of all time when I've already told you, you can have Alfheim?”

  “Because your little declaration had no affect,” he got very serious. “It's not enough. See, when you were born, part of the magic of Alfheim was given to you. It was done to ensure that you would both return to the land and that the land would recognize you when you did return. Just saying you don't want it doesn't remove it from your soul. It's like saying you don't want your nose.”

  “So what?” I narrowed my eyes on him. “I need to cut off my nose to spite your face?”

  “I'm not sure what you meant by that,” his bright eyes went blank for a second. “But I think you've got the idea. You must be severed from the magic of Alfheim. It's stronger now that you've come and claimed your birthright. If you leave, it will only pull you back here.”

  “I can resist the pull of magic,” I scrambled for a way out of this. Severing magic from my soul didn't sound like something I wanted to do. Also, it sounded like it would really hurt.

  “Not this magic,” he shook his head, “and even if you did, Alfheim would wither and die without you.”

  “It's been fine all this time,” I scoffed. “Why would it die now?”

  “Because you claimed it!” He roared and stood, upsetting his chair. It slammed back onto the rock floor, echoing like a death knell. “You started this. You awakened the magic by accepting it and now the magic is flowing i
n one direction... toward you. You will get stronger as Alfheim grows weaker. Every day you will drain more of the energy from my land until you either complete the ceremony to install you as the ruler of Alfheim or...”

  “Or what?” I growled.

  “Or return the magic to its source.”

  That had a strange ring to it. It sounded familiar. Returning magic to its source. Why did that sound familiar? Oh yeah, it's what the fey did when they died. Wait a minute.

  “How can I drain the magic of Alfheim when it's bound to the magic of Faerie?”

  “The connection was made when we created the Norse worlds,” Freyr huffed. “After their creation, the bond remained but only as a link not as a conduit for magic. Alfheim was given its beginning and we were given the responsibility of maintaining her. Her magic is finite without a ruler.”

  “So rule.”

  “You've taken that option away from me,” he growled. “My tie to the land has been surmounted by yours.”

  “So you want to kill me,” I accused. “I don't even want your stupid world and you want me dead?”

  “Do not ever call Alfheim stupid again,” Freyr crouched down to look into my face. “And no, I don't want you dead. I want you to go through the ritual of severing. It will return the magic to Alfheim.”

  “And?”

  “And there is a possibility that if you aren't strong enough,” he stood with a sigh, “you may not survive the transfer.”

  “So you want me dead,” I huffed.

  “You have the magic of three goddesses inside you,” he glowered down at me. “If anyone can survive the transfer, it's you.”

  “I have too many people depending on me to risk it.” I didn't want Alfheim to suffer but the elves could move. My Intare would go crazy and Trevor would die if I didn't survive. No, I wouldn't risk them, not even for a world my mother helped to create.

  “You will not have a choice in the matter,” Freyr declared. “Those chains you're wearing, they're called Gleipnir. Have you heard of Gleipnir?”

  “No, can't say that I have.”

  “Gleipnir was made to hold Fenrir,” Freyr explained. “They are impossible to break. Made of six impossible things.”

  “I often imagine six impossible things before breakfast,” I looked over the shining gold of the chains. “Which six would these be?”

  “The sound of a cat's footfall,” Freyr lifted his head proudly as he recited the components of the chains. “The beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish, and the spittle of a bird.”

  “None of those things are impossible,” I said simply and Freyr's face fell.

  “What? Of course they are.”

  “No, they aren't,” I shook my head at his ignorance. “I've heard a cat's footfall. I've seen a bearded woman. I've stood under the root of a mountain. I know for a fact that bears have sinews, how else would their muscles be attached to their bones? Fish do breathe so they must have breath and birds definitely spit because bird drop soup, that's a Chinese delicacy, is made with bird nests that these little birds make with their own spit. So there, all of those things exist.”

  “Yes,” Freyr rolled his eyes, “they exist but you can't make chains out of them.”

  “Well obviously you can,” I waved my hands at the chains. I didn't even try to lift them, just kind of flicked my wrists. “Who would have thought bird spit could be so heavy?”

  “You're a tiresome woman, do you know that?”

  “Yes, I do,” I grinned. “And I'm getting really tired of wearing chains. So why don't you take these impossible chains off me?”

  “Did you not hear a single word I just said?” His face was starting to turn red. “I'm not releasing you until you return the magic your mother took from Alfheim!”

  With that, he turned and slammed out of the cell, locking the door behind him. Like that was necessary. I couldn't even stand.

  “Well poop,” I huffed and banged my head back against the wall.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I'd been staring at the ring on my finger for about ten minutes when I saw the flower. Not the Ring of Remembrance, I was a little scared to time jump with those magic chains on. After the chains of darkness that Rowan had stuck me in, I was a little wary of magical chains. Oh excuse me, Gleipnir. Damn Viking gods, always naming their stuff.

  Anyway, the ring I'd been staring at was actually the one that was part of a set I'd made for Trevor, Kirill, Azrael, Odin, and I(Arach had a wedding band already). It was supposed to alert the others when one of us was in danger. I'd been wondering if it had worked and they knew I was in trouble already. Then that flower appeared. It grew right out of a crack in the stone floor next to my hip.

  “Hey, Blossom. What's up?” I said to the flower, because once you've been imprisoned in solitary for more than ten minutes, you start talking to anything. It's a proven fact. Usually inanimate objects didn't talk back though.

  Okay, so the flower, which was a bright yellow with five delicate round petals and the most beautiful lacey stamens in the center of it, didn't actually start speaking to me with a voice but it did interact with me. It bobbed lightly in response to my question. I gaped at it. I don't know what was more surprising, the fact that it grew in like two seconds or that it was kind of talking to me. Okay, I had Demeter's power, the growing thing wasn't really that surprising. What was surprising was that it did it all on its own.

  “Did you ah, want to talk to me about something?” I couldn't believe I was continuing the conversation but what else did I have to do?

  The flower bobbed again.

  “Okay, this is going to be yes or no questions, huh?”

  Another bob.

  “Fine. If we're going to do this properly, we need to establish the motion for a negative response. What means no?”

  The flower swayed from side to side.

  “Of course,” I gave a little hysterical laugh. “And I'm talking to a flower. Okay, do you know a way to get me out of these chains?”

  It bobbed.

  “Excellent,” then I frowned. How was it going to tell me with just yes or no? I thought about it. Why would a flower come to me to help free me from Alfheim's dungeon? It had to have something to do with nature, right? “Wait. Alfheim. Are you a little spokesperson for the world?”

  Another, more vigorous bob.

  “Sweet! The world likes me, it really likes me,” I giggled. The flower went still. “Okay, sorry about that. I take my little joys where I can find them.”

  The flower shook in what I determined to be its version of laughter.

  “Great, now even flowers laugh at me.”

  It shook again.

  “Alright, so my escape, does it have anything to do with my land magic?”

  A sway, side to side.

  “Well, fertilizer,” I huffed. “I was sure that was it. What else could it be?”

  The flower bent as if it were looking at its own stalk, then twisted its head to peer around. Yes, I realize it didn't really have a head, just go with it.

  “Do you mean Alfheim?” I thought about it. When I'd first made my dramatic claim in the dining hall, I'd felt something strengthen, something grow brighter inside me. “I have power over Alfheim, don't I?”

  A happy little bob.

  “But how is the land going to get these unbreakable chains off me?”

  The flower wilted down to the floor.

  “Hey now,” I strained a hand against the chains so I could lift the flower with a finger. “None of that. Perk up, you.”

  The flower perked up and a light went off in my head.

  “Does my power extend to the residents of Alfheim?”

  It started bobbing excitedly.

  I concentrated and found a cord of energy inside me. I had several bonds with several people so you'd think finding just one out of the many would be difficult but Alfheim's cord sparked brightly, brighter than any of the others. I guess the power of an entire
world trumps that of any single person.

  When I mentally touched the cord, I felt a wave of energy jolt through me. I felt the trees stretching both upwards and down, connecting sky to earth. I felt the stones deep within the soil, gathering bolts of magic that passed through them. I felt the tread of animals and their wild heartbeats. I even felt the breath and blood of the elves, so attached to their world that should they ever leave it, they would start to die. Then, beneath all of that, I felt the flow of a greater power. The magic of Faerie.

  Freyr was right, the Great Nine wasn't flowing into Alfheim but I could still feel the energy of it down the link that remained. Like my link with Thor, there was no exchange of power but there was still a path open. A path that could be followed either way.

  “Well that was pretty intense,” I smiled as the flower laid its petals on my hand. “Aw, I'm taking you out of here when I leave. I gotta make sure you have a nice spot in the forest where you can continue to grow.”

  The flower raised its petals as if it were looking at me.

  “I don't leave behind people who help me,” I smiled at it. “Not even if they happen to be a plant.”

  Then the door banged open.

  “Are you talking to yourself already?” It was Freyr.

  “Nope, just talkin' to Blossom,” I giggled, not helping the question of my sanity at all. Then I grabbed hold of that connection to Alfheim. I reached through it and drew on the power there. It flowed up my throat and into my voice. “Come here, Freyr.”

  He flinched, a look of shock and horror stretching across his face. Then, with really jerky movements, he walked over to me and my flower. He stood there, looking down on us with wide eyes.

  “Undo these chains,” I commanded. “Remove Gleipnir from me.”

  He bent like an old man, pulling forward a key from a chain around his neck. He put the key into Gleipnir's lock and the whole of it fell away like it was but fluff. But fluff, not to be confused with butt fluff, which is an impossible thing that could have been used to create Gleipnir in the first place. Unless hair would be considered fluff, in which case, it's unfortunately not impossible. But I digress. And also, let's never talk about butt hair again.

 

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