I glanced to the side, half expecting/half hoping that Oona or Valeska would take the lead on this, but they both stared up Sedna, with lips tightly sealed. I sat up as straight as I could.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your … Majesty?” I said uncertainly. “I’m not sure what I should call you.”
“Sedna will suffice,” she replied coolly. “And I can do without the pleasantries. I simply want you to tell me why you’re here so I can decide whether or not to have you executed.”
“We’re here to see Baldur,” I answered quickly, since Sedna was clearly not screwing around. “We were sent on a mission from Odin.”
Sedna arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t come to rescue your companion?”
“No,” I admitted. “I had hoped we could find him while we were here, but we were sent here by Odin to speak with his son Baldur.”
Sedna’s composure slipped for a split second as shock slackened her expression, but she hurried to smooth it over by narrowing her eyes as she stared down her nose at me. “Why did Odin send you on an errand of such importance? You are mortal, are you not?”
“We are,” I said.
“That’s why he sent us,” Valeska elaborated. “It’s easier for us to pass through the entrance of Kurnugia than it is for immortals.”
“But the risk is so great,” Sedna persisted, sounding dubious. “Ereshkigal and Abaddon were using the blood of the child of a Valkyrie to open the door so all of Kurnugia can be unleashed on the earth above.”
She motioned toward Asher, who was kneeling beside me. “They bled your friend quite a bit, but fortunately we found him before they had enough. With you three here in the underworld, there’s a much greater risk of Ereshkigal or her Bull finding you and completing the ritual.”
Unrelenting guilt throbbed in my chest, like a splinter lodged in my heart. I had listened to Asher and left him. I did what I thought was needed, but it destroyed me that any of this had happened, that I hadn’t been able to save him from this.
“We don’t want to stay here long,” Oona told Sedna. “We need to talk with Baldur, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Why do you wish to speak with Baldur so badly?” Sedna asked.
“Odin tasked me with finding Baldur and retrieving Odin’s spear,” I said.
A puzzled crease deepened in the smooth skin of Sedna’s forehead as she asked, “Odin wishes to have Gungnir returned to his possession?”
“Yes,” I said. “He thinks it’s the only way to stop the uprising that Ereshkigal is planning.”
“Vanir gods have no bearing on our world down here.” Sedna spread her hands wide, gesturing to the underworld around us. “They have total control over Vanaheimr, and more influence than they should on earth.
“But we have Kurnugia,” she continued emphatically. “This is our domain to rule as we see fit. Just by sending you here, Odin has broken the agreement and weakened the magic that seals off the underworld from the realms above. He’s made it even easier for Ereshkigal and her followers to escape.”
“He might not have known that—” I began, but Sedna interrupted.
“Of course he knew it,” she said with a humorless smile. “Who do you think authored the agreement in the first place?”
I cleared my throat and tried again, saying, “Well, I can only assume that he thought our mission was more important and worth the risk.”
“Or he’s very reckless,” Sedna countered.
“Can’t it be both?” Valeska suggested wryly, causing the ruler to cast an annoyed glare at her.
“We have heard rumblings of what Ereshkigal and Gugalanna are attempting, but we have been handling it all ourselves, before they are even able to break through to the surface,” Sedna said and turned her gaze to Asher. “You were with them for some time. How far along are they?”
“I can’t say with any certainty, since they weren’t very big on telling me anything,” Asher said. “But from what I overheard, Ereshkigal and Abaddon think they’re very close, but they’re definitely overeager, especially Gugalanna. There’s a chance that he might pull the trigger before they’re ready. But I would say even if they are premature, our side needs to be ready. Ereshkigal still seems to have a lot of power behind her.”
Sedna clasped her hands in front of her. “You have given me much to consider. I will consult with my advisers, and Baldur, of course. Until then, you must stay with us—both for our protection and yours.” She looked to the exousia standing behind us. “You may take them away now.”
“Shall we return them to the dungeon?” an exousia asked—the one pointing his bronze spear at my neck.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Sedna said. “The tower will be adequate, but be sure to keep the doors bolted.”
“Yes, of course,” the exousia said. Then to me, as he grabbed my arm, he ordered, “On your feet.”
“I’m working on it,” I muttered, since by yanking me up he’d only succeeded in throwing me off balance and slowing down the whole process.
Once we were standing again, the exousia began directing us down the length of the throne room. We hadn’t made it that far when Sedna called after us, and I turned back to her.
“Before you go—what other gods is Odin working with?” she asked.
“He didn’t mention any,” I said.
“He’s acting on his own?” Sedna asked.
“He didn’t say,” I said blankly.
“That is something more I must consider.” She motioned for the exousia to take us away, then she turned in such a hurry that her long white train billowed out behind her.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The four of us were taken up to a round room high in the tower. Or at least the height was what I gathered based on the amount of steps we went up, but there were no windows for me to gauge for certain.
The room itself had been set up as a studio apartment: a chaise lounge with a few wing chairs and end tables created a parlor, a quartz table with matching chairs under a candlelit chandelier formed a dining area, a queen-sized bed next to an armoire was a bedroom, and a door off the side led to a rather grand bathroom, replete with a claw-foot tub and rose-gold sinks.
It was all styled much the same as the rest of the palace—plenty of white marble and rose-gold flourishes. The furnishings were covered in plush pewter velvet, while the bedding was topped with a luxurious Siberian gray fur. Despite the lack of windows, all the lighting made the room feel surprisingly airy and light, and that was further helped along by the strategic placement of large bouquets of white and blush-pink flowers.
The first thing Valeska did when we got in the room—after futilely searching all over for a way to escape—was change out of her clothes. Oona’s spell had worn off, and we no longer had that glamourous sheen we had when we’d first entered Zianna. That was just as well, since the sheen only helped us to blend in so we could get through the city unnoticed, but we’d been caught, so that didn’t matter anymore.
One by one, we took turns going into the bathroom to freshen up and change back into our regular clothes, while debating how long we would be here and if Sedna would decide to help us. (Valeska was firmly in the they’re-going-to-execute-us camp, while Oona was far more optimistic.)
Asher was the last one into the bathroom, and he’d been in there for a little while when an exousia came in pushing a dinner cart made of gold and glass. It had been piled high with all sorts of exotic fruits and delicious-smelling pastries, as well as several decanters of brightly colored juices and wines.
“Sedna has sent you this feast for you to enjoy,” the exousia told us, speaking in clipped tones.
He motioned stiffly to the food, keeping his eyes downcast the entire time, while Valeska sat perched on a chair with her hand hovering above the dagger she had in her ankle sheath.
“Enjoy” was the final word from the exousia before he turned and marched out the door.
“Thanks for bringing it in,” Oona called af
ter him as she walked over to the cart. “And tell Sedna thank you for sending it up.”
The exousia gave no indication that he’d heard her or would pass along the message. He just went outside and locked the door loudly behind him.
Once he had gone, Valeska immediately rushed over to inspect the wares. She eyed the food the exact same way she had the exousia that had brought it in—warily and tensely, as if she were ready to fight for her life. Oona, on the other hand, had already begun loading up her plate.
Valeska held up a crescent-shaped slice of pale pink fruit and sniffed. “Is this some kind of mango?”
“I don’t know what that is.” Oona picked up a similar slice and took a bite, then groaned happily. “But it is delicious!”
“What’s this?” Valeska asked as she held up a flat, peachy-golden fruit covered in a soft fuzz. “Is this like a mango donut?”
“It’s a pan-tao,” Oona replied as she walked over to the chaise with a plateful of various fruits and pastries. “Why do you keep asking if everything is a mango? Have you ever even had one?”
Valeska shrugged. “Everything looks like mangoes to me.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Oona moaned after she took a bite of a pan-tao and wiped the juice off her chin. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. You should try it.”
“Sure, if I wanna die in agony of poisoning,” Valeska muttered, and she left the food cart behind to go back to pacing the length of the room.
“If they were going to kill us, they would come out and do it,” I said. “They don’t need to sneak it in and wait around for poison to kick in.”
“Mal, you should get some of this,” Oona told me through a mouthful of food. “Seriously. It’s sooo good.”
“I’m gonna check on Asher first and see if he wants to come out and eat,” I said, ignoring the rumbling of my stomach.
I didn’t know how long we’d been here or the last time I’d eaten. It felt like somewhere between ten hours and eternity. But Asher had definitely been in the bathroom long enough that I’d begun to worry.
I knocked softly on the bathroom door and said, “Asher? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his words slightly muffled through the door. “It’s open, if you wanna come in.”
I opened the door cautiously at first, peeking in, but when I saw Asher standing in front of the sink, I came in and shut the door behind me. He was shirtless, wearing only his white linen pants, and his hair was still wet from his bath. Based on the dabs of white cream on his now-smooth face, I guessed he’d just finished shaving.
“A good bath and a good shave do wonders to make you feel like a normal person,” he mused, wiping at his face with a towel, and then he turned to me.
In another time, seeing Asher’s chiseled abs and broad chest would only send flutters of happiness and lust through me. But this was my first real chance getting a look at him since we’d found him.
There were half a dozen slits going down either side of his torso, below his pecs and down his ribs. Each cut was about six inches long, and though the wounds had already begun to heal, they were red, with raised, jagged edges, like he had been cut in the same place over and over to keep the wounds open.
On both his forearms he had another six matching cuts, making it look like he had badly but desperately attempted suicide multiple times. I knew that wasn’t what had happened, that it was a way for them to drain his blood, but it was still a shocking and disturbing thing to see.
But the marks I found most horrifying were the ones carved on his chest, just to the left of his heart. They were less jagged than the others, but the skin around them was much darker, like a blood-red shifting to black where the incisions had been made. They were two symbols, ones I didn’t recognize.
Asher stood before me, looking better than he had before—his body was more relaxed, his eyes brighter, even a smile played on the edge of his lips. But, looking at his skin all torn up like that, I could barely fight the urge to throw up or sob. He turned to inspect his shave in the mirror again, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice cracking on the word.
He looked over at me, startled by the emotion in my voice, and asked, “Why?”
“I should’ve come for you. I should’ve been here sooner. I shouldn’t have let him take you.” I swallowed back tears as he stepped closer to me.
“No, no.” He put a hand on each of my shoulders and bent down slightly so he was eye level with me. “Listen to me, Malin. You did exactly the right thing. You did what I wanted you to do, what I asked you to do, and, more importantly, what you needed to do. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“But look at what they did to you.” I motioned to the jagged red marks on his arms and the bruises all over his torso.
“Yeah, okay, Abaddon was a real bastard,” Asher allowed. “But honestly, I don’t remember much of it. I was unconscious most of the time. So, yeah, I have some new battle scars, and I’m honestly a bit sore, but it wasn’t that bad. At least not nearly as bad as it could’ve been, being held captive by the evil lords of the underworld.”
“Yeah?” I asked hopefully. “So you promise you don’t hate me?”
He laughed, warmly but softly. “I’ll never hate you, Malin.”
“Never say never,” I replied, which only made him laugh harder, so he moved away from me and leaned back against the bathroom counter.
When he’d finished laughing, his expression shifted—his eyes were still light, the smile still curled his lips ever so slightly, but there was a new seriousness hardening the edges of his happiness. His words had a certain gravity when he asked, “You wanna know the truth?”
“Always.”
He reached out, taking my hands and pulling me closer to him. His voice was low and husky as he stared into my eyes and said, “When they brought me here, they showed me the unimaginable enchantment of the world outside these walls. I have seen beauty beyond anything I could’ve dreamed, the full breadth and majesty of everything their heavens have to offer.”
He smiled softly and cradled my face in his hand. “And still, I’ve never seen anything as wonderful and beautiful as you walking through that door in the dungeon.”
Then I couldn’t wait any longer. I leaned close and kissed him—intensely, passionately. With all that I had, with all that I wanted from him. My hand was on the back of his neck, my fingers in his hair, and his hand was pressed on the small of my back, holding me to him.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Asher lay beside me in the bed, sleeping soundly. We didn’t know how long we’d be here or what would come after this, so we decided to rest and eat while we had our chance. Even Valeska had finally caved in and eaten some of the food, since the rest of us hadn’t shown any signs of poisoning.
Now everyone else was asleep—Oona on the chaise under a fur blanket, and Valeska perched barefoot on the back of a chair with her wings folded over, reminding me of an overgrown chicken.
But I couldn’t sleep. I’d been dozing off when a terrible thought had occurred to me: the Valhallan cloak wouldn’t be big enough for the four of us.
Even if the mission was a success and Baldur gave us Odin’s spear, I didn’t know how all of us could get out of the underworld and back to earth.
I lay on my back with an arm under my head, staring at the dark ceiling, running a hundred different scenarios through my head. I couldn’t leave any of them behind here, and I didn’t want to stay here myself. I would, if I had to. Without hesitation, I would sacrifice myself for them if need be.
But there had to be a better way.
Or at least I hoped desperately that there was a better way.
Asher moaned softly, and I glanced over at him. When we’d decided to sleep, Oona had gone around blowing out most of the candles, but she left a few burning so we would find our way around in the dark. The lamp on the nightstand burned low, but I could still easily see the outline of Asher ben
eath the sheets beside me and the darkness spreading out over his chest.
I sat up and scrambled to turn up the kerosene lamp, and as the warm light brightened, I saw the dark blotches were bright red. Asher moaned again, louder this time, as he stained the sheets like a bloody Rorschach test.
“Asher,” I whispered and touched his shoulder. His skin felt cool as I shook him. “Ash, wake up.”
He twitched—a violent quick jerk—but it only lasted for a second, then he lay motionless. I was about to shake him again, but then he turned his head toward me, and, slowly, his eyes fluttered open.
When he saw me, a groggy smile lit up his face. “Good. You’re still here. I didn’t dream you.”
“Asher, you’re bleeding.”
“What?” He sat up and the sheet slid down, revealing the deep cuts on his chest, the ones that didn’t look like all the rest.
“They stop for a while, but eventually they always start up again,” he complained as he dabbed at them with the sheet, and the bright red blood appeared to be darkening as it slowly scabbed. “When they brought me here, they gave me a salve for my wounds, and most of them healed up over the last few days. But these ones … at least they seem to be done bleeding now.”
“A few days?” I echoed. “You’ve only been in Kurnugia for five or six days.” But even as I was saying it, I couldn’t be certain. How long had I been here? A day maybe, it felt like, but how much time had passed on earth? Hours?
“What? No…” He looked up at me, shaking his head. “I’ve been here for … weeks.”
I gently told him, “Time moves differently here.”
He leaned back, resting his head against the headboard as he stared forward. “I’d heard that, but I didn’t realize it would be so drastic.”
“You were with Abaddon and Gugalanna for weeks?” I asked, still keeping my voice hushed so we wouldn’t wake Oona or Valeska.
From the Earth to the Shadows Page 12
