“What are you doing? How is this possible?” Ingrid tried to keep the bravado she’d possessed moments before, but she couldn’t. Urkon’s powers were too strong. She dared a peek at Jarrick, and even he sat frozen.
“You should be at Montibeo where you can be free to learn what I can teach you. Then you would understand how easy it is to control those with weaker minds.”
Ingrid caught the small movement of Jarrick’s fingers from her peripheral vision. Afraid to move, she clamped her mouth tight and sat tall. Whatever Urkon wanted, she’d try to resist.
“I should have taken you there the day I’d tested your skills. But, as a compassionate individual, I allowed you to stay with your family. Raising a human child would have only tortured me. Then Eir came along and warded you with that bead. Thankfully, we no longer have that between us.”
Her bead had kept her protected? It suddenly made sense. Eir had told her it was a way to keep track of her magic. To know when she was ready to train, but that wasn’t all—it also kept others away from her. Conflicted and confused, Ingrid didn’t know how to process that. A surge of anger welled in her knowing it was one more way she’d been lied to.
“Surprisingly, you almost healed your sister, even though you were no more than a child yourself. I’d tried a few smaller incidents to entice you to unlock your powers, but the stronger boost of emotional motivation finally worked.”
“What?” Ingrid whispered the question but didn’t need an answer.
The vision of how she’d tried to heal her sister after she’d been impaled by a fishing spear slammed into her thoughts. Blood had covered her hands from the effort, but her sister had died anyway. They’d both been so little at the time. Ingrid had blocked the memory of it until she was caught in the middle of a battle in Jorvik. She’d healed so many men without thinking about it and then her mind had opened to the memory.
It hadn’t been an accident. It had been a test . . . orchestrated by Urkon? Ingrid couldn’t breathe. She’d been a pawn her entire life. First by Freya who’d connected her to the spell, then by Urkon who’d used her poor sister as a test. She’d only been a toddler! Eir had even kept information from her about her bead.
What power did she have of her own?
She needed to leave, not just the dining hall, but Alfheim. There had to be a way. How was she ever supposed to separate who she was from who everyone wanted her to become?
“I can help you unlock your full potential. Come with me, and I’ll show you,” Urkon said, disrupting her panic.
“Not ever,” Ingrid hissed. “I will never go with you.”
“You will.” Urkon snatched Ingrid’s wrist. She shivered as a wave of cold air washed over her. Her vision blurred and then cleared an instant later.
Ingrid stood in the center of a large throne room. Polished obsidian stone glittered on the floors and the walls from ensconced torches that hung every few feet. Dark columns rose five fathoms into the air that held up beams that arched to a point at the center of the massive space. The columns formed a walkway through the center of the room to a high dais five steps above the floor. In the center of the austere platform was a single throne. So tall and grand Ingrid was sure she’d not be able to reach the seat without a stool.
Despite the amount of open space, the atmosphere caved in upon Ingrid. It was as if the sticky essence Jarrick had one once shoved into her mind floated through the air. Squeezing the vitality—the life—out of everything.
Something stirred in the shadows, and Ingrid moved only her eyes to spy what it was. It was a goblin, she guessed, based on the stories her brother Hagen had told her to scare her when they were younger. Then she realized it wasn’t one goblin, but many, teeming along the walls and hiding in the dark. No, they weren’t hiding; they were chained.
A scream caught in Ingrid’s throat, clawing to get out. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t make a sound. Where is this?
Boot steps echoed off the smooth dark stone, and Ingrid slid her attention to whoever approached from behind her. Using only enough movement to see out the corner of her eye, she watched as Jarrick strode through the room. Seeming to ignore her, he continued to the front.
Chains rattled behind, and Ingrid turned to see a grotesque creature that appeared half-elf, half-goblin. It walked upright with a hunch to its shoulders and a limping gait as it pulled a chain attached to a collar around Galwain’s neck. The queen was filthy and wore a shapeless gown of rough-spun linen as she stumbled along. Tripping up the steps, she fell to her knees in front of the throne. The elf-goblin shoved her until she lay on the ground beside where Jarrick sat.
A chill washed over Ingrid again, and when her vision cleared, she sat once more at the dining table.
Activity resumed all around her. The others acted as if nothing had happened. Ingrid grabbed her glass and swallowed the entire contents. How was she ever supposed to defeat the beast sitting next to her?
12
Jorg
Following Plintze’s lead, the group had traveled only at night, sticking to paths in the forest rather than the roads. It might not make a difference to be so secretive since Eir probably knew what they were doing, but it made them feel as though they had a chance for success. Even if the goddess knew what they were up to, they might still surprise the dwarves and Jarrick.
The fresh air, game trails, and silent tracking soothed Jorg’s nerves. Combined with taking action, he was invigorated. To their credit, Selby and Bremen were all business and seemed as eager as he was for the activity. So far, the bead hadn’t been helpful in any way except to help Jorg calm his nerves. He pulled it out from his shirt and held it in his palm whenever they would stop to rest. In that way, he supposed, it was a comfort. Perhaps that’s what Eir meant.
Two days after they’d left, Plintze halted at the edge of the trees.
“See that group of boulders over to the right?” He pointed at an outcrop in the hillside that looked the same as many others they’d passed as they worked their way through the fells.
“What of them?” Jorg asked.
“That’s the closest entrance. It’ll take us a little closer to a forge than I’d like, but it’s also where we’ll get to the outer tunnels that aren’t in use anymore.”
“How do we get through them? There doesn’t seem to be any gaps big enough to crawl through,” Selby said.
Plintze sighed. He looked uneasy and agitated.
“Are they sealed in a way we can’t see? Do you need to do something to make the entrance clear to our eyes?” Jorg asked, dropping his hand to the dwarf’s shoulder.
“Humph.” Plintze nodded.
“Ingrid told me about how she first met you. That you made her turn around when you showed her your home for the first time, and again when you were both inside. She said you didn’t want to let her see your dwarven magic. You can trust us, Plintze. Just like you trusted her,” Selby said.
Jorg’s heart clenched. Selby sounded so kind and concerned. Things had changed so much since they’d left the village so many months ago after the dragons first appeared.
“Ach, come on,” Plintze grumbled and strode toward the boulders.
When they reached the pile, each stone was as big as two men and so close together they would be impossible to move. Jorg, Selby, and Bremen stared at Plintze without a word, waiting to see what he had planned.
“After we go inside, there will be a barrier to cross. It separates the realms. I don’t know how it will affect all of you.” Plintze shifted his feet and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat.
“We knew the risks before we came. Whatever we face, we face together,” Jorg said and then looked at the others for confirmation.
Bremen nodded and reached his hand out to Plintze. When Plintze returned the gesture and their hands clasped, there was a shift in the surrounding air. Not in the literal sense, but Jorg could tell that the deal was final, there would be no turning back and no regrets by any of them.
When Plintze
turned to face the boulders, Jorg slipped Selby’s hand into his and squeezed quickly before releasing it again. He saw the tight smile she gave, but he also saw the single tear that tracked down her cheek. Failure was not an option. They would rescue Ingrid, nothing would stop him from that. But he would also make sure his friends came home, too.
Plintze raised his hands and waved his staff high into the air while he said some words in a language Jorg had never heard. A slight breeze picked up and rustled the grasses around their feet. Jorg blinked, then blinked again. The air seemed to waver in front of him, and the boulders swayed like grass.
Soon, they shifted apart, and the opening to a tunnel appeared.
Impressive. “Let’s go then,” Jorg said. The dangers they would face faded away from his mind as excitement bubbled within him.
Plintze wasted no more time and strode into the dark with Jorg close behind. Bremen followed Selby.
After about fifty steps in, the low light from the moon disappeared, and the darkness was so complete Jorg couldn’t see Plintze in front of him. He could hear his footsteps and those of the others behind him. It was like no other darkness he’d experienced. He had felt no barrier like Plintze had mentioned, but there was something different about the tunnel for sure.
The slope of the ground descended, and Selby took ahold of the back of Jorg’s tunic. I was afraid you’d be too stubborn for that.
Not long after, Plintze came to a stop. Because Jorg had kept track of the sounds, he knew to stop as well. “What is it?” he whispered.
“The barrier is just up ahead. Can any of you feel it yet?”
There was a pressure to the air. Jorg had thought it was just because they’d gone downhill. He opened his mouth and wiggled his jaw to pop his ears.
“It’s like when a storm is approaching. The air feels heavy,” Selby said from behind him.
“Yeah, that’s just the edge. Whatever you do, don’t stop. Hurry and get through as quick as you can, understand?”
No one could see Plintze’s face, but his words carried urgency enough to make them all agree.
“Keep together. Don’t let go of each other just in case anyone needs help,” Jorg said and reached around to take hold of Selby’s hand. He could feel her do the same behind her with Bremen. “Okay, Plintze. Let’s go.”
The scratching sound of loose dirt mixed with small pebbles from the path indicated that Plintze had started walking again. This time though, he wasn’t going at a slow, careful pace. He charged forward, gaining speed. Jorg followed suit, and within a few steps, they moved in unison at a jogging pace.
The barrier slammed against Jorg as if he’d fallen from a cliff into a lake. It bent and gave into the shape of his body, but not without a toll. From the tips of his ears to the bottom of his feet, the force of a shield wall pounded against him over and over. Jorg grit his teeth and tightened his grip on Selby as he leaned into the pain.
He shoved forward, willing his feet to keep moving. No sound came to his ears though he knew a growl escaped his throat. The pressure threatened to crush his chest. His legs were as heavy as lead and burned with every step. Don’t stop!
With a burst of the last amount of effort he could summon, he shoved forward. Then tumbled forward when all the pressure suddenly released. Unable to stop his momentum, he flew to the ground, sprawling into the dirt and sliding to a stop against the side of the tunnel.
Grunts and a couple curses later, Selby and Bremen were dumped to the ground next to him with as much grace.
The air was thick and heavy. Jorg rolled to a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall. The others did the same, except Plintze who stood before them watching.
“Are ya all right?”
“I’m in one piece if that’s what you want to know. Give me a minute to know if anything’s broken.” Selby straightened her tunic and spat as she wiped dirt from her face.
“Take a few sips of water from your flasks, but we don’t have too much time to rest. You’ll have to adjust quickly,” Plintze said. His voice was stern, but also held a tinge of concern.
He’s nervous, not worried. “We need to get going,” Jorg said.
The tunnel was warm, bordering on hot. Plintze had said the tunnels would be cold because they needed to stay away from the forges. That didn’t bode well for where they might be.
“Stick close to me and stay silent. Your scent will be bad enough to draw attention.” Plintze reached a hand out to Jorg to help him stand while Bremen and Selby helped each other. “Let’s move.”
The ground continued to slope downward as they moved with cautious steps. Every crunch under their feet made Jorg’s heart race. It was hard to breathe in the thick air, and he didn’t know how well he’d do in a fight. He’d seen Plintze in battle and knew the dwarf had good skills. In his home realm, he was probably better. That meant any others they’d face would be, too, if they were caught.
At least the darkness had become less intense. They could see each other now. It was no more than a dark night in the woods after getting adjusted to it.
Plintze held up his hand for them to halt. The tunnel led to a set of stairs going down at a steep angle. Jorg expected Plintze to turn and go down like a ladder, but he moved forward and took each step with ease.
After a quick peek over his shoulder, Jorg followed. He nearly had to sit on the steps as he worked his way down. How the dwarf had navigated them so nimbly, he didn’t know. Selby kicked his head more than once as she struggled behind him—or above him, as it were.
When they finally reached the bottom, Plintze stared at them with anger boiling in his eyes. Obviously, he didn’t understand their trouble, and he huffed as he turned and strode away. Jorg steadied himself and took as deep of a breath as he could before he hurried after, hunching slightly because the ceilings were lower in this section.
The tunnel made a curve ahead of them, and Jorg picked up the pace to make sure he didn’t lose track of Plintze. He saw no other tunnels where they might get lost, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
A point of a spear jabbed into his midsection as he rounded the corner. Selby gasped and Bremen grunted as they, too, were met with iron.
Laughter, gruff and gravely, bounced off the walls. The tunnel was only wide enough for two bodies if they squeezed together, and when Jorg looked around, he counted six dwarves ahead of them, and two had somehow managed to get behind them. Plintze was ahead of them, restrained with a dagger to his throat.
The dwarf holding his spear against Jorg’s stomach backed up a step and cocked his head sideways to get a better view of Jorg’s ears. He let out a loud guffaw and turned his head to speak over his shoulder.
“Plintze you have not returned for so long. It was wise to bring such gifts with you. Though we’ll still have to see what the council thinks of your offering. An elf was a good choice. If it doesn’t bring a high enough price, it will at least be good entertainment for the goblins.”
13
Ingrid
Everyone at the table ate, drank, and spoke in complete oblivion to the fact that they’d been trapped by Urkon. What kind of power did it take to hold a roomful of elves static and unaware? Except, not everyone had been unaware. Anger radiated from Jarrick. He said nothing for some time though he kept darting glances toward Urkon. For his part, Urkon appeared to be a complete gentleman. Having left Ingrid to contemplate what he’d said and shown her, he’d begun a conversation with the elf on his other side.
They spoke of a new café that opened recently in the marketplace and the wonders of the dishes it offered. Ingrid couldn’t eat, couldn’t even lift her utensils. While she sat amid polite conversation and soft laughter, Galwain was chained and tortured. She was her last connection to Jorg. There was no way Ingrid could let her stay in those conditions.
“I’m sorry to see that Galwain couldn’t join us again this evening, Jarrick. I’d hoped she had recovered by now.” Thelonius’ words snatched Ingrid’s atten
tion.
Where did the king think his sister-in-law was? And what did he think kept her from the dining table?
“She is better each day. I’m sure she’ll be able to join us soon.” Jarrick smiled at his brother and then settled his gaze on Ingrid, a warning laced within an acknowledgment.
He knew what Urkon showed her. That’s why he was so angry. What was it though? Was it that Ingrid knew how he was treating Galwain? Or was it that Urkon had controlled him while he did it? It was hard to believe that Jarrick would care what Ingrid thought.
“Is she ill?” Whatever game this was, Ingrid needed more information.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Even though Galwain lived here many years ago, she wasn’t as lucky as you to recover so quickly to the lighter atmosphere. She is tired and weak, but stronger each day,” Jarrick answered.
“I would love to pay her a visit. We have so much to catch up on,” Ingrid said.
She noticed that Thelonius, Caelya, and Urkon all sat still waiting for Jarrick’s response. They all know where she is and what is happening to her. Despite how hard she tried, Ingrid could feel her heartbeat gaining speed. Her chest ached as she willed herself to take slow, steady breaths.
“She is looking forward to visiting with you. As soon as she recovers,” Jarrick said with a tone that froze the air.
Ingrid nodded so she didn’t have to speak.
“Perhaps Ingrid’s abilities to heal would give Galwain the boost she needs?” Caelya said with a smile though it didn’t reach her eyes and confused Ingrid.
What did she want in all of this? Was this her way of helping Jarrick chain Ingrid, too?
“Ingrid has other duties where she will need to use her strength,” Urkon chimed in.
A flutter in her belly and a tingle throughout her body gave her a shiver. For the first time since she’d arrived, her magic stirred as if it were awakening. Ingrid sat up taller. She tried to pick at her food to cover her surprise and excitement.
Realm of Fate Page 7
