Monster Born (Northern Creatures Book 1)

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  And then there was me, a man who carried the enchantments of others. I had no intrinsic way to achieve a balance.

  Which meant this dagger came with a price. “So be it,” I muttered. I’d pay whatever price magic demanded to remove my murderous brother from Alfheim. This time, I’d do what was necessary.

  The sunrise peeked over the trees as I climbed back down the hill with dagger and book in hand.

  I wasn’t surprised when I heard a large vehicle picking its way along the tracks that led to Rose’s Hill.

  Hiding seemed the best option, but hiding would do no good against the elf whose magic flared out in front of the vehicle like the sun itself.

  Dagrun had borrowed someone’s SUV and had come looking for me.

  She pulled up and cut the engine. “Get in,” she said, and slapped the doorframe.

  Who was I to argue with the Queen of Alfheim? I opened the passenger door and hopped into the SUV.

  Dag glanced at the notebook and the dagger. “Where did that come from?” She eyed the dagger suspiciously when I held it up.

  “It fell out of the book.” No reason to hide the truth from her.

  She took her hand off the ignition. “Leave it here.”

  I set it down on top of Rose’s notebook once again. “I think Rose sent it to me. I think I’m supposed to use it against the creature.”

  Dag crinkled her nose as she inhaled. “I have never, in all my centuries, seen anything like that knife, but I have smelled such weapons.” She started up the SUV. “It doesn’t smell right, Frank.”

  “Not right as in evil, or not right as in not elf magic?” Because both options presented their own set of problems. “The only magic I see is in the potion sloshing in the vessel here.” I held up the dagger again.

  The Elf Queen of Alfheim dropped all shreds of glamour she carried. All of it, and not just the mundane disguise she wore on a daily basis. In the blink of an eye, Dagrun Tyrsdottir became a manifestation of the living world—she became all that motivates earth to quake, air to stir, water to flow, and fire to spark. The ice gray of her eyes shifted from the color itself to the coldness of ice. The black of her hair became the black, living soil of the earth. The air around her body encircled her like a cyclone. And her hands danced with magical fire.

  “Arne bought plane tickets. He’s taking Maura and Akeyla to the airport this afternoon. He will not listen to reason.”

  “What? I thought he was going to sequester them inside The Great Hall.” If they were trapped inside, at least they were here.

  “He conferenced with the other Kings again.” Her elf magic flashed, and she changed the subject. “Leave that thing here, Frank Victorsson.”

  I nodded. What else could I do? Dag had spoken.

  I gently pulled the handle on my door before ducking out. I set the notebook down on the seat and looked at Dag for her okay. She frowned and growled, but did not tell me that it, too, needed to be left behind. I walked toward Rose’s Hill and pulled up the fifth treading stone, the one at my chest level, and placed the dagger in the hollow underneath. Then I reset the stone.

  I would either need to face my trials without Rose’s gift, or I would need to return later to retrieve the artifact.

  When I returned to the SUV, Dag had returned to her normal mundane glamour. “I want that book gone as soon as we get to your place, Frank. It’s witch magic.”

  “Fine,” I said. No use arguing with Dag. Not when her magic seethed as much as it did right now.

  She glanced at me and, as if she read my mind, stopped the churning and coiling of her natural magic. It clicked and locked instead, and became the geometric, clockwork armor I’d come to expect. “You need to take them,” she said. “Maura and Akeyla.” She started the engine. “Take them north. Cross over into Canada and disappear into Manitoba for a couple of weeks. You need to stay with them until I can get my husband to see reason.”

  “The creature is my brother,” I said.

  Dag hit the brakes. “What?”

  “He’s a monster such as I, built by my father from the already-undead.”

  She slapped the steering wheel. “Why?” she yelled. “How?”

  I shrugged. “Hubris and ingenuity.”

  A sour laugh hiccupped from Dag. She hit the steering wheel again. “Then perhaps it is a good thing I’m sending you into Canada, huh?”

  “I take it you have not talked to Ed yet today.”

  She laughed again. The next string of words that fell from her lips sounded suspiciously like Icelandic profanity. “That’s why you wanted to keep that… that…” She shook her head. “Listen to me, Frank Victorsson. Your family needs you. Please do not be distracted.”

  How was dealing with my brother a distraction from my family? “He killed one of the men who posted the video.” I pointed up the tracks leading away from Rose’s Hill. “He’s a vampire. I need to find his daylight hiding place, use that dagger,” I pointed at the hill, “and put an end to him once and for all.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The simplicity of vampires, huh?”

  I sat back against the seat. “What does that mean?”

  She gripped the steering wheel. “Arne is leaving with Maura and Akeyla in two hours and he’s somehow convinced her that it’s for the best.”

  I doubted that. She’d probably agreed because deep down, she was as terrified of her father as everyone else in Alfheim.

  We also had a full moon coming up. “What about the wolves?” Down to The Cities and back was a full day trip.

  A sour laugh popped out of Dag. “He says he’ll be back in time.”

  “Okay, okay. Take me to The Hall. I’ll see what I can do. But I need to stake my brother in the daylight. He’s much too powerful in the shadows.”

  Dag nodded.

  “Do you have your cell phone? I need to talk to Ed.”

  Dag stared out at the trees. Her magic swirled again, but stopped and locked down almost immediately.

  She put the SUV in park. “I’ll call him. You drive.” She pointed at the book. “Put that in the back.”

  Her magic recoiled when I picked it up off my lap.

  “Okay,” I said, and opened my door.

  I looked back at the wood dagger’s resting place. It was not balanced magic, whatever it was. Or perhaps it was magic balanced on a different scale than the one used by the elves.

  Either way, I couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving it behind was a bad idea.

  Chapter 23

  The sun had crested over the edge of town by the time Dag pulled the borrowed SUV into The Hall’s adjacent parking lot. Gold danced over the spindly plants of the glamour surrounding the structure, and for a moment, made it look inviting.

  I knew better. “Arne banned me from entering,” I said.

  Dag tucked her phone into her pocket. “I don’t care if he told you to run naked through downtown,” she said.

  I chuckled. I probably shouldn’t have, but Dag’s posture and her tone accentuated the regality of her defiance and, to my eyes, was the most correct and satisfying occurrence of the past five days.

  She chuckled, too. “You are as much a son to me as any of the men I have birthed.”

  I wanted to give my adoptive mother a bear hug, but I knew she would not approve. The elves, in general, were not big on public displays of affection, even hugs among family.

  Except Akeyla. My niece was special.

  I stepped out of the SUV. Dag hit the lock button and the vehicle chirped.

  “Thanks for not driving your roadster.”

  Dag chuckled again. “And have you burst my leather seats? My baby must always remain pristine. You know that.”

  I squeezed her elbow. She accepted the contact, which, for Dag, was a major deal.

  The door to the hotel burst open. Akeyla ran out, unglamoured and trailing a hot plume of fire magic.

  “Grandma!” she yelled. “I don’t wanna go back!”

  Dag dashed
across the road and snagged Akeyla into her arms just as a car rumbled by on the road. The driver didn’t pay attention, and seemed more concerned about me, the huge man standing on the opposite side of the road, than the woman and child in the parking lot.

  I waved, to keep his attention. He frowned, yet waved back.

  When he passed, Dag had Akeyla fully glamoured again. They leaned on each other, the little girl and the matron, two females who, no matter how they worked or advanced, would always be subject to their king.

  I jogged across the road. Akeyla immediately reached for me. I glanced at Dag, who nodded her okay, then scooped Akeyla up into my arms.

  She buried her face in my shoulder. “I want to live with you, Uncle Frank,” she said. “I can’t leave Jax by himself.” She looked up at my face. Tears filled her eyes and her lip quivered. “He doesn’t like Ms. Saunders! He won’t pay attention. What if he doesn’t learn anything this year? They might hold him back and then we won’t be in the same class anymore.”

  “Oh, honey,” Dag said.

  Akeyla was more concerned about Jaxson’s schooling than her own banishment?

  “Jax is my best friend.” She sniffled.

  Dag threw me a knowing look. We would have a major wolf problem on our hands if Arne separated Akeyla and Jaxson. They calmed each other, and helped each other learn. Together, they would grow into formidable leaders. Apart, they would pine and flounder. They might only be third graders, but they needed the autonomy to develop their relationship on their own terms. They also needed to learn to self-regulate without having it forced onto them.

  It was the same for me. Controlling my dissociation, the hollowness, the rage—that had been a long road for me. Many people had suffered along the way, but they could not change what was me. I had to do that myself.

  “I’m going to talk to your grandfather,” I said.

  Akeyla nodded.

  “But I think we all need to go inside, okay?”

  She nodded again. I hoisted her higher on my hip and walked behind Dag toward the entrance.

  Maura walked out with a suitcase in each hand.

  “Go back inside! Now!” Dag ordered. She reached for one of the cases, but Maura pulled it away.

  Like Akeyla, she was in travel clothes, and had two knit hats in her pockets, for covering ears in case a glamour broke on the plane. Maura’s eyes were swollen, and her lips and nose puffy. She’d been crying.

  She set the suitcases on the ground. “Why?” she said. “What difference will it make, Mother?”

  Dag’s magic pulsed. Maura flinched, then hers pulsed as well. Akeyla hugged me tighter.

  “I will not have you return to that man,” Dag shouted. “I don’t care what your—”

  “What, Mom?” Maura yelled. “At least in Hawaii, Akeyla will be able to play outside!” She stepped to the side then back toward the suitcases. “I will not be a political pawn!”

  Dag stepped back. “What?”

  Maura rubbed her face. “Of course he wouldn’t tell either of you.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I only know because I walked in on the video call.”

  Did Arne mean to marry off Maura? “He can’t do that, Maura,” I said. “He can’t—”

  “Frank!” Maura pointed over her shoulder and inside the glamour around The Great Hall. “My grandfather decreed that if we do not leave voluntarily, then the Kings will revoke Alfheim’s New Zealand colony charter.”

  Dag paled. “I will have my father’s head,” she said.

  I had thought Arne and Dag as a team enough to deal with Dag’s father, but Tyr Bragisson was arguably the most powerful elf on Earth. He held sway over the Norwegian and Siberian elves, and the respect of the kami in Japan. King Bragisson of the Icelandic elves controlled much of elven politics.

  It had been Tyr who had given Alfheim the settlement charter for New Zealand.

  Arne was just beginning to work on moving elves south. They were scouting for a colony location and establishing connections with the indigenous Maori spirits. The whole point of the colony was to make connections in the Southern Hemisphere the way the elves had with Japan after World War II. Share magic, share connections, make everyone stronger, Arne said, especially with so many mundane humans now. Magicals needed to globalize, too.

  It was a massive undertaking, and the elves had chosen Arne because of all the long-lived, powerful elves, he was the only one alive who had already established a flourishing new community.

  The business connections alone would be a huge economic boost for the town.

  “That is the stupidest threat I have heard in a long time,” I said.

  Maura choked out a laugh. “This is what I was born into, Frank,” she said. She pointed at her mother. “This is what Mom was born into.”

  Dag remained silent.

  “So please, Mr. Huge-and-Strong, tell me which version of servitude is better? Controlled by my father or controlled by hers?” She reached for Akeyla. “Come, honey.”

  My niece sniffled and wiggled so that I would set her down.

  She walked stiffly to her mother. “Why can’t we live with Uncle Frank? No one will bother us if we live with Uncle Frank.” She tugged on her mom’s pants. “No one bothers Jax’s family. And that guy at the library is a vampire.” She frowned and looked up at me. “He’s scary. I don’t like him.”

  “When did Akeyla meet Tony?” I asked.

  Maura shook her head. “I don’t know. The school only takes the kids to the Ramsey Mansion on field trips once a year and there are always at least three elves there when they do.”

  “Grandpa took me. He said I was old enough to meet a vampire. He made Tony show me his fangs and how fast he could climb the wall. Grandpa said that if I ever see a vampire I should tell him or Grandma or Mom right away, even if that vampire is Mr. Biterson.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Mr. Biterson didn’t seem happy when Grandpa said that.”

  I leaned toward Maura. “We do have an issue right now,” I said as calmly as I could muster. “One I need to deal with as soon as possible.”

  Maura frowned.

  Dag pushed by Maura. “That’s it! That elf is incorrigible. Now is not the time!”

  Which elf she meant—her husband or her father—I did not know. She seemed angry enough to knock off both their heads.

  “Fly off to that island if you want, daughter!” She disappeared through the glamour into Great Hall territory.

  Akeyla looked between me and her mother. “Grandpa wouldn’t let me say good-bye to Jax.”

  Both Maura and I pinched our foreheads at the same time.

  “Your father is acting unexpectedly medieval,” I said.

  Maura snorted. A laugh followed. Akeyla looked confused, then she, too, laughed.

  I knelt down to look Akeyla in the eye. “Your grandpa was right about vampires, okay? It’s really important that if you sense or see one, you get away. Go to an elf or wolf you trust immediately, even if you’re with Ms. Saunders.”

  “Or you, Uncle Frank?” She blinked a couple of times.

  “Or me.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “It’s moot, Frank,” Maura said. “We’re leaving in less than an hour.”

  I stood to my full height. “No, you are not. And no, you will not be caged here, either.” My sister was no one’s pawn.

  Maura looked more resigned than I liked. She picked up the suitcases. “We don’t have any choice.” She nudged her daughter. “Come on, honey. Grandpa will be out in a minute. We need to get our bags into the car.”

  Akeyla pulled away. “I don’t want to go.”

  Maura sighed. “Akeyla, do as you are told.”

  “No!” Akeyla yelled. She stomped her little foot and a puff of fire rose off the top of her head. A small, barely perceptible puff, but a real bit of fire nonetheless.

  “This is why we need to go,” Maura said. “I have no idea how to help her with her fire magic.”

  No, that was not why they
needed to leave. They were being forced out by men who thought only of their own power. “There are other elves who can help.” There were likely Maori contacts who could teach Akeyla about her fire spirit side better than her own father.

  “This is not acceptable, Maura,” I said.

  She closed her eyes. “What are you going to do, Frank? Get in a fistfight with Arne Odinsson, the Elf King of Alfheim, to see who has dominion over the princess?”

  What? “That’s not what I meant.” I knew she was exasperated, but poking at me wasn’t helping.

  Akeyla started sobbing again. “I don’t want to go!” She stomped her foot again. “I like living with Uncle Frank! I want to be with Jax!”

  My niece ran for the glamoured entrance into The Great Hall.

  “Akeyla!” Maura yelled, but her daughter had vanished behind the veil.

  Maura looked at me, then at the “door.” She picked up their bags and tossed them through, then ran into The Great Hall.

  Should I follow? Should I let them work this out while I tracked my brother? I looked over my shoulder at the rising sun. I had an hour or two.

  I ran into the glamoured world of the elves’ Great Hall.

  Chapter 24

  The sun was higher inside the glamour than it was outside. Warmth spread over my neck and shoulders, and I stopped just on the other side of the door to take advantage while I listened for Maura and Akeyla.

  An eagle called. Small mammals rustled. The pristine air of elf territory filled my nose with a freshness the modern world no longer had. And somewhere in here, a little elf girl ran away from her mother because her grandfather was more of a bull than a man.

  I closed my eyes, cocked my head, and listened.

  Nothing.

  “Maura!” I called. “Akeyla!” They couldn’t have gone far. The glamour distorted space and time, but not by enough for them to get so far ahead of me I could no longer see or hear their activity.