by S. T. Bende
Viggo turned his head, revealing a dimple. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
Another gust knocked me off course, and I glanced below as I steadied myself. “Holy gods, what happened there?” I slowed just enough to study the ground.
Below us, a once-vibrant forest had faded to a sea of sickly grey and puce. Tree limbs crooked at unnatural angles as if they’d been frozen in place while shirking an onslaught . . . or running from a blanket of death.
“Skit,” Viggo swore. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s not drought-induced.”
“Definitely not.” Viggo scanned the ground. “The trees would be drier—and brown, not grey. There must be some kind of contaminant in soil. But from what?”
“I don’t see any streams, so there can’t have been a pollutant.” I craned my neck. “And the ocean’s too far away for something to have washed in. I’m guessing this area got its water from rainfall. Is there acid rain in Alfheim?”
“I’m a Verge. We don’t take science.”
Right. I made a note to ask Finna what could kill an entire forest.
“Whatever it is, do you think we should turn around?” I ventured. “If it’s airborne, it could affect us.”
“I’m sure it could,” Viggo agreed. “But our lead sent us this way, and until we’re in actual danger we should—oh, skit. Cover your mouth. It’s coming straight for us.”
I snapped my head forward. My nostrils flared as I spotted the enormous, dark cloud. It raced toward us like a cluster of angry locusts. Its swarm of chalky, black residue swirled violently in an onslaught of fury. Angry hissing filled the sky, and my gut churned at the darkness resonating in the air. Any second now it would hit us, and I had zero doubt the contact would be painful—possibly excruciating. Acid rain hadn’t been responsible for the decimation below. My gut told me this cloud had done the job . . . and whatever had happened to that forest was about to happen to us.
“Look out!” I flung myself into Viggo, burying my face against his chest and wrapping my arms around his head. With a breath, I tapped into the energy surrounding me and pushed it outward. The bubble encased me, and I pressed against its edges until it covered Viggo, too. White-hot burns pricked at its surface as we maneuvered through the cloud, and I ground my teeth together until we’d reached the other side.
Once we were free of the darkness, I released my hold on Viggo and shook my wings, putting extra distance between me and the death-cloud.
“What the Helheim was that?” I blurted.
Viggo flew so we were again side by side. “No clue. But whatever it was, it didn’t want us to get through.”
“Which means we must be closer to what we’re looking for than we thought. Come on—before another monster cloud attacks us.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Viggo flapped his wings, and we soared over the rest of the forest in silence. The wind increased again over the meadowlands, and I waved Viggo behind me, directing him into my draft.
“Take a break,” I offered. “The meadows were the last landmark, and Frigga only knows what we’re going to run into once we reach the caves. You’d better rest.”
“I’m fine.” Viggo grimaced. “I’d rather we be together if anything’s coming. Besides, I’m not that tired.”
Show-off.
But I didn’t give him a hard time. The truth was, I appreciated not taking point now that we were this close to our mysterious destination. And as we flew over herds of wooly sheep the size of baby elephants, I couldn’t help but wonder about the creatures who dedicated their lives to herding them.
If they could control animals that massive . . . what would they be able to do to us?
Chapter 10
“STAY BEHIND ME, AURA.” Viggo raised one fist before landing atop a knoll. “I don’t see the animal’s keepers, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”
“You think the shepherds can turn invisible?” I shook my head as I landed beside him. My legs were wobbly after a full day of flying, and it took me a minute to get my bearings.
“I don’t know what I think.” Viggo scanned the meadow. “But I’d definitely rather they shoot at me than you. I’m better at defense than you are.”
“Hey.” Despite my objection, I let him stand in front of me as we both turned in a slow circle. Because, chivalry.
We had a clear view of the meadow from our knoll-top vantage point. The grass butted against a jagged mountain range, the inside of which I assumed contained the caves we’d come to search. I hoped they were animal-free. This far north, we’d anticipated finding birds and deer and a handful of small mammals—not oversized sheep . . . or the massive, curved horns that topped their heads like lethal crowns.
Death by sheep-goring was not how I wanted to go.
“Maybe they’re wild,” I said quietly. “They don’t seem to be moving, and I don’t see collars or bells or anything. So . . . is it possible they just live here on their own? Unsupervised?”
“Maybe,” Viggo said doubtfully. “But Finna was pretty thorough. If there were wild sheep, she’d have flagged it in her—”
“Intruders!” a deep voice boomed from the sky. “Identify yourselves!”
Oh, gods.
My hand flew to my waist. I drew my dagger and bent my knees in a deep fighting lunge. Breath whooshed from my lungs as I locked eyes on a man hovering directly above me. His thick arms, lean waist, and silver wings left little doubt that he was not only an älva, but an extremely strong one. The broadsword he clutched in one hand suggested that he was a warrior . . . probably one sent to rid the region of threats.
Threats that currently included me and Viggo.
Gulp.
I glanced at my partner, who had his own blade drawn. We were fast, but there was no way we could take on a sword that size with our daggers. We’d have to disable our assailant first, wrestle control of the broadsword, and possibly use it on him. But we’d faced worse. And there were two of us and one of him. We could totally do this.
“Identify yourselves or leave,” the man repeated. He raised his sword threateningly. “Intruders here are executed on sight. But you seem young, so I’ll give you two counts before I kill you.”
Since he hovered between us and the caves, there was a good chance he was protecting whatever was inside them—possibly our stolen senators. Either way, we weren’t getting past him without a solid excuse . . . or an even better attack.
“It’s your funeral,” the man growled. “One. Two.”
“Zeta formation.” I spoke without moving my lips. “Now!”
I pulled my shoulders back and leapt into the air, darting to the right so I could circle our attacker and strike from behind. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Viggo move in on the front of him. His dagger swiped at the man’s calf, forcing him upward and right into my range. I drew my arm behind me as I flew forward, ready to sink my blade between his shoulders. But just before I reached him, he flung himself to his right. With a massive oomph, he collided with Viggo. Their bodies tumbled toward the ground, a tangle of legs and wings and blades. They landed on the grass, grappling fiercely while I tucked my arms to my sides and dove.
My heart seized when the man shoved his forearm to Viggo’s neck, pinning him in one debilitating move. My partner kicked violently, a pointless attempt to dislodge the considerably larger man now straddling his torso. Viggo’s face purpled with the struggle. As he fought for air, I flew even harder.
I’d nearly reached him when the man leaned back. Shock colored his angular features as he blurted, “Viggo?”
“Yeah,” Viggo grunted. He arched his spine and kicked again.
“My gods, Viggo, is that you?” The man released his choke hold.
“Who the Helheim are you?” Viggo coughed.
My feet landed hard on the grass. Pain shot from my heels to my knees, but I ignored it as I raced to Viggo’s side. The man stood, bringing his hand to his neck as he paced
across the grass.
“Stay away from Viggo.” I challenged. I quickly scanned my boyfriend, who appeared to be breathing all right on the ground. Since our attacker posed a more immediate threat than asphyxiation, I jumped in front of Viggo and raised my dagger. “How do you know him?”
“I heard you were dead.” The man paced faster. “The reports came in from Svartalfheim—they said your bones were recovered. But—”
“Wait a minute.” I lowered my dagger. The man’s wavy, dark hair, his emerald eyes. Even the way he moved, holding his shoulders low as if the weight of his muscles strained his long frame—he was too familiar to be a stranger. And yet, Viggo’s parents were dead.
Weren’t they?
The man’s pacing continued. Since he didn’t seem inclined to attack us again, I offered Viggo my hand. Without taking his eyes off the man, Viggo rose unsteadily to his feet. Once standing, his knuckles cracked around the hilt of his dagger.
“Who. The Helheim. Are you?” Viggo repeated.
The man finally stopped moving. His wings flickered behind him, and for the first time my eyes caught on the shimmering, glitter-like particles floating between them. They moved in tight infinity-symbols, linking the appendages together. When the man shook his head, an inky wave of hair slipped from the knot atop his head. His eyes crinkled at their wrinkle-lined corners as his lips formed a sad smile. A dimple flashed as he studied Viggo with . . . was that affection?
But they’re dead. Viggo told me they’re dead.
My eyes widened. The man was older, but he was without a doubt the aged version of—
“Viggo.” The man exhaled. “Forgive me. It’s been so many years, and I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“Last chance.” Viggo drew his dagger arm back. “Who are you?”
“Your father’s brother,” the man said quietly. “I’m Rafe Sorenssön.”
What?
Viggo froze, his face a mask of pure shock. “You’re my uncle?”
Rafe’s eyes glistened, moisture filling their emerald depths. Was the guy who’d been about to kill us actually crying?
“But you fled. When the barrier went up, my dad said you’d gone . . .”
“I came here,” Rafe said. “It wasn’t safe for us anymore. Your father was a warrior—he was exempt from the internment orders. But when the government issued the demand that all non-military älva report to work on the barrier, we knew what it meant. My tribe defected immediately. We’d heard there were regions in the north that were so far removed from civilization, even the royal trackers couldn’t find them. We settled in these caves, and we’ve lived off the land ever since.”
“They never found you?” Viggo asked.
“Believe it or not, you two are the first outsiders to make it past the dead forest.”
“You placed the black cloud,” I offered. I held tight to my dagger as I walked to Viggo’s side. “Anything else we should be aware of?”
“More traps guard alternate entrances to the meadow.” Rafe studied me with unnervingly intense eyes. “But they will not harm you. Now that I know who you are, I can program them to permit you to pass.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Rafe tilted his head. “How did you get past the cloud? You’re very young to manage a protection of that level.”
“Aura’s a high-level blocker,” Viggo said. “My plan was to cover my mouth and hope for the best.”
Rafe frowned. “The acid would have eaten through your skin by the time you took your first breath. It’s a good thing your companion is wiser than you are.”
“She usually is.” Viggo’s dimple popped.
“Well. No doubt you’ve traveled a far way. Let us feed you. You can tell me over dinner what it is that’s brought you such a great distance from . . . where are you living now, Viggo?”
“I’m at Alfheim Academy. Aura is too. All the Keys are.”
“Yes, I’ve not forgotten the role you were meant to play in serving our realm. Are you training to be a warrior, like your father?” Rafe asked.
“In a sense.” Viggo glanced at me, and I nodded. “Aura and I are both Verge. We’re meant to protect Alfheim.”
“Aura the Verge. And, if I’m not mistaken, the regent as well.” Rafe turned his attention to me. “I’ve heard whispers of you. Even a region as remote as ours is aware of the changes you have brought to our realm. Changes that have been a long time coming.”
“Yeah, well.” I toed the ground. “We’re hoping we can make some of them stick. That’s why we’re here. Some of our senators were abducted, and we don’t know where they are. We need to find them and bring them home. They’re the ones who actually have the power to make a difference.”
“We’ll do all we can to help you,” Rafe vowed.
“We?” The only other lifeforms in the meadow had four legs, wool coats, and massive horns on their heads. Right?
Rafe held out his hand. “Come with me, Aura. Viggo, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of your family.”
Chapter 11
“THE REST OF MY . . .” Shock coated Viggo’s normally even-keeled features. We trailed behind Rafe, whose still-glittering wings fluttered in the afternoon breeze.
“Did you know about them?” I whispered as we walked.
“No. My dad told me he had a brother, but since we lived on Svartalfheim most of my life, I never met him. And my mom’s parents were killed in the line of duty. They were warriors, too.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. We’d cleared the meadow, and now stood in front of the massive cliffs.
“Yeah, me too. I wish I could have met them—Mom said they were something else.” Viggo shook his head.
Rafe slipped into an opening between the rocks, and motioned for us to follow him. Viggo wrapped his fingers around mine and took the lead.
The entrance to the cave was dark and narrow, jagged rock formations stretching from the dirt a good twenty feet overhead. I kept my attention on my footing, careful not to trip over the small stones that littered the ground. I was so focused on not falling that I didn’t look up until we’d made it through the entryway . . . where a vast cavern now stretched before us.
“Holy skit,” Viggo swore.
I sucked in a breath as I stared at the massive space. It easily stretched the length of two football fields, and was filled with every conceivable arrangement for socializing. Children played games on carpeted squares framed by love seats, and adults chatted and ate around a table-lined buffet. At the far end of the space, a massive patch of grass hosted a mixed-age group playing what appeared to be a rugby game
How did all of this fit inside a cave?
I angled my head back and tried not to gape. The room extended a full hundred feet in height, with sconces providing up-lighting on the walls, and fairy lights strung artfully across the ceiling. How could anyone hang lights that high? My eyes caught on the sea of wings fluttering in front of me, and I had to laugh at myself. Obviously, one of the hundred älva in the room had flown them there.
Hold on. A hundred? And this is just part of the settlement?
“When you said family, I thought you meant a wife, maybe a couple of kids.” Viggo’s head swiveled from left to right. “But this is a small village.”
“This cave houses half of the Northern Faerie Corps—a collection of älva who banded together in the wake of the cullings.” Rafe gestured around the cavern. “We refused to subject our families to the government camps, so we came here and created our own colonies. There’s another one farther north, and two in the south.”
“That must mean there are hundreds of älva in Alfheim.” I shook my head. “I thought there were only a few of us.”
“Wow.” Viggo’s mouth hadn’t fully closed since we’d arrived. “I had no idea.”
“Then we’ve done our job.” Rafe rested one hand on the hilt of his sword. “We didn’t know if, or when, the government would stop abusing us for our powers. So we deemed it best to re
main hidden until we could be certain our freedom was secure.”
“I’m not sure if it’s safe even now,” I admitted. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but even with two regents, we’re having a hard time effecting the changes we want to. This horrible man named Fyrs Narrik is Minister of State. And he—”
“I’m familiar with Fyrs.” Rafe’s knuckles whitened around his sword. “He was in my class at the academy.”
“You might be thinking of someone else,” I said. “This guy’s way older than you.”
“Älva age considerably better than light elves.” Rafe shrugged.
Viggo and I exchanged looks. Good to know.
“Well, Narrik rose to power after the queen’s daughter—my mom—was killed. Everyone blamed the queen for all of the bad things that happened here, and she’s certainly not innocent. But Narrik is the real reason things are so awful. Constance is just his puppet.”
Rafe turned to me. “Now that you’re also the regent, can’t you have him removed from office?”
Why did everyone have to ask that?
“A change of that nature requires the support of either the senate or the cabinet,” I explained. “And since all of the sane senators are missing, and the cabinet’s under Narrik’s control, I can’t do anything.”
“Your senators are missing?” Rafe released his sword to rub the back of his neck. “When did that happen?”
“They were abducted early last fall,” Viggo answered. “There was an important vote—one that would affect the future leadership of the realm. The Opprør were taken the night before, and haven’t returned. That’s actually why we’re here—we knew there were caves, and we were hoping . . .”
“You thought they might have been hidden here,” Rave finished. “Let me guess—your conventional tracking methods have been ineffective?”
“Correct,” Viggo confirmed.
Rafe studied me thoughtfully. “Let me ask you something. Your trackers . . . are they able to see through both kinds of blockers?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said. “My advisors told me both warriors and Protektors are out looking. And they questioned all of Narrik’s sympathizers, but so far nobody’s admitted to anything.”
