by Lori Devoti
Surprised they could speak, Risk glanced at Lusse. She waved her hand in a circular motion. Get on with it.
“Forandre. Hellhound.” He projected his reply so both the creatures and Lusse could hear.
More hissing, then one of them asked, “You change, like the Great One? Is your other form serpent?”
Risk’s lip curled at the thought. “Human.”
The creatures looked at each other and nodded. “We didn’t think there was another as strong as the Great One,” the second creature replied.
“Change,” the first demanded.
Risk narrowed his eyes. His ability to shift between hound and human was not a circus trick to be performed for others’ entertainment.
Beside him Lusse shifted, her exhaled breath telling Risk she was impatient to get on with their quest.
“Yes, yes, shift,” the second creature chimed in, his long body bouncing slightly with his excitement.
Gritting his teeth, Risk considered their request. He was strongest in his hound form, but his strength would do him no good trapped in this waiting area. And there were benefits to being human—like being addressed as an equal.
With an annoyed growl, he shook his body out and willed his form to change. The magic that allowed his transformation swelled from within him, shifting his form from hound to human in mere seconds. Risk stretched, pushing himself to his full height, the heat and humidity of the tube rolling over his naked skin.
The creatures stepped back, their huge eyes glowing even more brightly. “Ah, he did it.”
“Yes, yes.” The second creature clapped his hands together. “Big.”
“Not as big as Jormun,” the first chastised.
“No, no. Jormun is the greatest,” the second agreed.
Lusse whipped her cape around her arm with an impatient snap. Risk touched her arm lightly, reminding her of her plan. If antagonized, Jormun’s front guard might choose to leave them in the portal’s entrance tube.
Her lips thin, she waited.
“And this one?” The creature gestured toward Lusse. “She is your toll?”
Lusse opened her mouth, but before she or Risk could reply, the creatures continued, “Too late. Jormun has no more need of such. So sorry, forandre.” With an awkward bow, the pair turned to leave.
“Halt,” Lusse ordered.
The creatures glanced back, their tongues flickering out of their mouths.
“How can he not need me?” Lusse swept her arm down the length of her body. Her hand fisting.
The creatures looked back at Risk, confusion on their faces. “Your toll wants to serve Jormun?”
Lusse stepped forward. “I am not a toll. I’m a challenger. I challenge Jormun’s new witches.”
Risk lowered his brows. Lusse’s arrogance was intolerable to him; he could only imagine how the creatures before them viewed it. “Doesn’t Jormun want the most powerful of witches?” he asked.
Lusse smiled, her hand relaxing.
“He has them,” the creatures replied, their faces still twisted in confusion.
“Impossible,” Lusse spit out.
Before she could continue, Risk jumped in. “How does he know? Has he pitted them against the strongest of their kind?”
The creatures glanced from Lusse to Risk, then turned back to face each other. “How did you get here? The garm grants only those with a toll passage.”
“I blasted my way through, then enslaved the little wolf,” Lusse replied, a bored tilt to her lips.
The creatures glanced a question at Risk.
He nodded, hoping the garm did nothing on the other side to give away his lie—and that the garm didn’t trap Risk here in Jormun’s realm when he learned of it.
After a few more seconds of hissing, they turned back. “We will consult with Jormun. Wait.”
With a snap, the door closed again, leaving Risk back in the moist darkness, an angry Lusse at his side.
She barely had time to huff and declare her outrage at being left before the doorway thinned again, and the two mutant creatures reappeared. The first carried a black piece of cloth, which he handed to Risk with a bow. “For your comfort, Jormun thought you might prefer to be clothed.”
Risk pulled on the outfit—a black jumpsuit identical to what the two creatures were wearing.
With Risk dressed, the two ushered Lusse and Risk out of the narrow tube and into a brightly lit grand hall.
A man, at least a foot taller than Risk, stood in front of a convex window looking out at the sea. When he heard them approach he turned, clapping his hands together. The sound echoed through the room.
“A hound.” His dark eyes lit with delight. “I haven’t encountered a hound since…” His eyes darkened. “For what feels like a millennium. Do you still hunt with the gods?”
“The hunt is dead,” Risk replied.
Jormun folded his arms over his massive chest and peered down at Risk. “So, now you hunt…witches?”
Risk angled his head. “Not all of us, but yes, that’s been my life.”
“Hmm. And this one, you claim can outpower the pair I have? They are twins, you know. Identical.”
“So we’ve heard. That’s certainly rare, but this witch has unequaled power.”
Jormun stepped back to analyze Lusse, who met his gaze with a raised brow. “She’s certainly bolder than most who are brought here.”
“I have nothing to fear.” Lusse folded her arms over her chest, mirroring Jormun’s body language.
Jormun laughed. For one interminable moment, Risk thought he was going to pat Lusse on the head. Instead he stepped back and studied Risk.
“You have my interest. What bounty do you request?”
“No bounty. Just a challenge.” Risk nodded his head toward Lusse.
Jormun raised one brow. “Between her and my pair?”
Lusse tapped the toe of her shoe on Jormun’s stone floor.
“She is stronger than she looks.”
“I’m the strongest,” Lusse interrupted. “I’ve spent my lifetime draining the powers of witches such as yours.”
“Ah.” Jormun tilted his head. “But you have nothing to offer me when I win.” He waved toward the mutant creatures.
“My hound,” Lusse threw out.
Jormun paused. “The forandre?” He ran his finger along the line of his chin, his eyes turning contemplative. “How do you feel about that, forandre?”
Risk froze, his breath barely leaving his chest. Would Lusse actually turn his binds over to Jormun, or was it another of her tricks—and did it matter? If Lusse lost, wouldn’t it be better to be trapped here with Jormun? At least Kara would be near, at some point perhaps he could figure a way to free her, free them both.
After studying Risk for a moment, Jormun swung his massive hand, smacking Risk on the back. Risk braced his legs to keep from teetering under the giant’s blow.
“It doesn’t matter. I could use some entertainment and someone to talk with besides the skapt.” Jormun glanced at the creatures who watched him with unmasked adoration.
“Wait,” Lusse placed her hand on Risk’s back. “We haven’t discussed what I get when I win.”
“When you win…” Amusement danced through Jormun’s eyes. “Yes, let’s hear your demands.”
“Nothing much. Just your secrets. What you’ve been doing down here since you were cast into this sea.” Her hand swept toward the window Jormun had been staring out of when they’d entered. “I want to learn what these skapt are, and how they were created.”
Jormun’s eyes narrowed, his massive fists forming balls. “No, you don’t ask much.”
Power sizzled around the giant, catching Risk off guard. If Lusse felt it, she showed no sign.
Jormun leaned forward until his nose almost brushed Lusse’s. “Fair warning, witch. My secrets are mine, and I don’t share them lightly. But…” He straightened, the power fading as quickly as it built. “Since there is no chance you can defeat my witches, I agree to
your terms.”
Without further discussion, Jormun left the main hall and the skapt motioned for them to follow. Tension ran the length of Risk’s spine. Lusse had put him up as the prize, and made no mention of freeing Kara or her sister in the bargain.
Risk’s blood boiled with anger. If only he could think of a way to leave the witch here, and take Kara and her sister in exchange. But as things stood now the best he could hope for was the twins defeating Lusse, thus ensuring he stayed here with them. If Lusse won there would be nothing gained.
Or would there? He glanced at the giant Jormun. Lusse had angered him, and he did say he wanted the most powerful witch. Perhaps there was still some way to turn this game to Risk’s advantage.
Kara grabbed Kelly and pulled her into a hug. Her sister stood stiffly for a second, then relaxed against her. Tears edging into the corners of her eyes, Kara reached out and stroked Kelly’s hair.
“You did the right thing. This has to be stopped.”
Her face buried in Kara’s hair, Kelly nodded.
“And, somehow, we’ll get out of this. We’re witches, right? And from what I’ve heard, damn powerful ones.”
Kelly looped her arms around Kara’s waist and squeezed. Pulling back so she could look Kara in the face, she asked, “What happened to you?”
Kara stared into her sister’s eyes, the sadness hidden for a moment behind a veil of wonder.
“I don’t know if you’ll even believe me.” Kara shook her head.
Kelly laughed. “Look around. I don’t think there’s anything you can tell me I won’t believe.”
Kara laughed, too, the moment free of tension letting her relax just a bit. “Okay, but I warned—”
A click interrupted her, and a small book-sized section of the wall slid open.
“Ah, breakfast,” Kelly murmured, casting Kara a sideways glance. “You remember making fun of my ketchup obsession? Well you’re about to wish you had a gallon-sized jug.”
She walked across the room, to the slit in the wall. As she stood there two bowls slid through the opening.
“Yummy.” Kelly grabbed the bowls and crossed back to Kara.
“What are they?” Kara asked, staring down at the brown pebbles.
“Pellets.” Kelly picked up a handful and tossed them in her mouth. “You know that old saying…‘tastes like chicken’? Well…these don’t.”
Kara popped one into her mouth and grimaced. “Should we be eating this?”
Kelly shrugged. “I tried going without the first few days, but I didn’t last long. No point starving to death, and if we want to battle our way out of here, we’re going to need some energy.”
Kara crunched another pellet between her teeth. The taste was like old fish. She held her breath and swallowed.
Kelly shoved a handful in her mouth and wrinkled her nose. “I wish I could say they get better, but…”
The small opening clinked again. This time two foil packets appeared. Kelly tossed one to Kara. “Water.”
They ate and drank in silence for a few moments. Kara’s mind tripped back to Risk, wondering if he had discovered what she had done yet. Did he care? Would he come looking for her? The pellets formed a dry ball in her throat. Why would he? She’d sent him away. Unless, of course, he still planned on using her and Kelly, or turning them over to Lusse. She choked down the food, which landed in her stomach like a lead ball.
Dear God. She didn’t care. Didn’t care if Risk came looking for her just to sell her to the highest bidder. Right now at this moment in time, she’d give up about anything just to see him again.
“We’ll need another kind of energy, too,” Kelly interrupted Kara’s thoughts.
Kara ran a finger under her eye, catching a tear that had formed there.
“You said you knew we are witches, but have you tried it yet?” Kelly asked, her finger poking through the pellets remaining in her bowl.
Blinking to stop any more telling tears, Kara replied, “Yeah, it was…” Empowering, invigorating, scary? “Weird,” she finished.
“Weird. I don’t remember feeling—”
The wall behind them shifted from smoky to clear. Kara glanced at it. “Already? I thought you said it was only once a night?”
“It is. It has been.” Kelly dropped her bowl and stood facing the wall, both hands on her hips. “Oh, my God. Get a load of that.”
“What?” Kara stood, the bowl still gripped to her breast.
Strolling down the tube beside them were Jormun, four of the snake-men, a blond woman dressed all in white and Risk wearing a skintight black jumpsuit.
The bowl fell from Kara’s suddenly lifeless fingers, landing with a clatter on the capsule’s floor. Her eyes focused on Risk, she didn’t even jump.
Chapter 18
Risk strode the length of the tunnel behind Jormun and the skapt. Lusse still followed, her gaze darting from their host to his companions with a calculating gleam. Be side them Risk could make out what had to be the Mid gard Sea. Schools of fanged and glowing fish flitted by the glass.
Then the scene beside them changed to monotonous gray.
“This is where I house my guests.” Jormun gestured to the opaque wall, and without warning the gray dissipated like smoke, and Risk found himself staring straight into Kara’s horrified eyes.
The bowl she held tumbled to the ground, and the woman next to her, her sister obviously, stepped beside her.
“My witches,” Jormun announced, his arm sweeping proudly toward them. “They have yet to show their powers, >but I’ve looked into their eyes. The potential is there, and…” He lowered his voice with something akin to reverence. “I saw violet. Can you imagine? Pure power. I’ll bet your witch can’t provide that.”
Still staring at Kara, absorbing the way her hair folded onto her shoulders, the angle of her heart-shaped face, and the small part between her full lips, Risk heard Jormun’s comment only vaguely.
“Forandre, did you hear me? I say, your witch can’t boast pure power, can she?”
Shaking himself free of Kara’s spell, Risk realized Jormun was speaking to him.
“Pure power is nothing but pretty. You need real power, power used to taking what is needed, to accomplish anything of worth.” Lusse crossed her arms over her chest and stifled a yawn.
Risk blocked out the witch, instead keeping his gaze on the pair inside the adjacent room. Kelly grabbed Kara’s shaking hands and clasped them in her own. Kara’s eyes still rounded in horror, her face pale, she ignored her sister’s attempts at comfort.
“Well, enough of that.” Jormun announced. “You can see them from your own tube.”
With a snap, the gray coating returned. Leaving Risk with the disturbing image of Kara’s stricken face to carry with him as they walked the last few feet.
“Would you like your own space or to share with your witch?” Jormun glanced down at Risk.
The two creatures behind Lusse grabbed her by the arms and shuffled forward. Lusse jerked herself free, her hands raising to attack. Risk stepped in front of her.
“Sharing would be best,” he told Jormun. The space next to Kara. He could at least watch her, know she was safe.
Jormun shrugged and waved the two creatures away from Lusse. “You’ll find everything you need inside.”
Lusse brushed at her arms and stared at the skapt through narrowed eyes as they waddled away. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for the challenge. Risk can entertain you until then.” Without waiting for a reply, she swept through the doorway.
Jormun switched a surprised gaze to Risk, then laughed. “She may not be pure, but she’s unusual, I’ll give you that.” Jormun stared after Lusse, a flicker of admiration spicing his gaze.
“Yes, she is.” Risk studied the giant, an idea forming in his head. “She will beat them, you know.”
“You think?” A line formed between Jormun’s brows. “You don’t think the stories about twins are true?”
“They may be true, but
I don’t think they take into account all that Lusse has done over the centuries.”
Jormun’s frown deepened.
“Of course, you didn’t risk anything too valuable—just a few secrets—if you plan to keep your word that is.” Risk crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the curved wall. Jormun seemed to trust him for some reason—and certainly treated the forandre with more respect than Lusse. Perhaps he could push that advantage.
The giant snapped his gaze to Risk. “I always keep my word. It’s a contract—and I expect the same from you and your witch.”
“I haven’t made any bargains to keep,” Risk replied.
“True.” Worry pulled at Jormun’s features.
“I might consider entering a bargain, though.” Risk tilted his head.
“How will a second contract save me from the first?”
“I brought Lusse here, right? The garm let me pass with her as my toll—ask him.” Risk realized he was walking on thin ground. First he had hoped the garm wouldn’t give away the lie of Lusse’s trip through the portal, now he prayed the garm would protect his own reputation and declare her boasts false.
“She didn’t blast her way through, like she told the skapt?”
“You haven’t spoken to the garm?” Risk held his breath, waiting for the reply.
“He didn’t answer my call, but seeing a hellhound was reward enough to let you two pass—for a while.” Jormun nodded his head in silent acknowledgment of Risk.
Risk smiled. Jormun’s words reassured him that his newly formed plan might work. “She thinks she did, but the garm knows the truth.”
Jormun considered Risk’s statement.
“It changes things, doesn’t it?” Risk prayed his guess was right.
“Yes.” Jormun smiled. “It does. By the rules of the portal anyone who delivers a toll which meets my needs can exchange that toll for a bounty—a bounty I agree upon.”
Risk shifted his feet, disguising his eagerness by widening his stance.
“But,” Jormun continued. “I already agreed to her challenge. I can’t back out now. If she wins I tell her my secrets, if she loses I get you.”
