“After the tunnels and the forest . . .” Jorg let his words trail off.
“We knew this would be dangerous. We all came for our own reasons, and you didn’t have a right to leave without telling us or giving us the chance to go along,” Bremen said.
“I know.”
“It was stupid. Don’t do it again,” Plintze added.
Of everyone, his disapproval pierced Jorg the most. He realized more than ever how much he valued Plintze’s guidance and respect. “I’m sorry.”
Plintze grunted and nodded. “That’s the end of it then.” Turning to Kelvhan, he added, “Tell him the plan.”
The guard raised his brows at the command.
Caelya answered before Kelvhan could respond. “I will speak with my brother and keep him occupied while the four of you, along with Kelvhan, sneak into the palace to rescue Galwain and Ingrid. The rest of the guards will wait at the perimeter to keep watch and help if necessary.”
Jorg stared at her, unaware until that moment she was present and part of the group. She’d stood off to the side, out of his view. The princess’ attendance had stunned him. He hadn’t judged her as one who would take such a risk.
“Sounds like a good plan. How will we know where Ingrid and Galwain are?” Jorg asked.
“A dear friend of mine is already at the castle helping them. She’ll lead you to where she has hidden them. Ingrid already knows her, and I gave her the medallion Bremen wears so Galwain will know to trust her.”
Bremen wears a medallion? There was still so much he didn’t know about his brother.
“We don’t know where Urkon will be, however. So, we must be careful to get in and out as quickly as possible. I’ve been to the castle frequently and can navigate the corridors,” Kelvhan added.
“There’s something else. When we were in Svartalfheim, we learned of a deal the dwarves made with the giants. It turns out they’ve made a deal with Jarrick, too. They will invade Midgard as soon as the spell falls. A delegation will arrive in Alfheim to meet with Jarrick at Montibeo in the next day or two. I didn’t get an exact time,” Jorg offered.
“Where did you hear about this?” Caelya asked.
“It came out when I was chatting with Dúngarr.”
“Giants entering our realm without Thelonius’ permission would be an act of war. What is Jarrick trying to accomplish? We must stop them. Kelvhan, send the guards to the border gate nearest here.” There wasn’t any room for debate in Caelya’s command.
“Send me. I’ll say I have a message from the dwarf council to postpone the meeting. Give them a reason to wait.”
“That would be too dangerous, Plintze. Why would they believe you were meeting them in this realm rather than the gate from Svartalfheim? You’d be taken hostage . . . or worse,” Bremen said. “Since Jorg and I didn’t arrive at that gate as planned, they’ll be too suspicious.”
“You need the guards to make sure Ingrid and Galwain get safely away. I can do this while you find them.” Plintze stood tall and resolute. He’d decided and wouldn't change his mind.
“Perhaps if we let the giants come, it would cause enough of a distraction to help keep both Jarrick and Urkon occupied,” Kelvhan said, though he seemed to speak his thoughts out loud more to himself than toward anyone else.
“No, we can’t risk starting a war if we can prevent it,” Caelya said. “Plintze, if you fully understand the risk you’re taking, I think it’s the best option.”
“I do.”
“Let me at least send a couple of guards with you,” Kelvhan offered. “If we do our job in the castle, we won’t need them, anyway.”
Plintze nodded. Selby sniffled, and Jorg peered sidelong at her. Tears glistened on her cheeks as she focused on their friend. It mirrored the wrenching he felt in his own heart. What the dwarf offered was likely a one-way mission.
A loud grumble sounded from where Bakkan rested. “I’ll go. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to tangle with one of those behemoths.”
“Take two others with you, my friend, and see that you all return,” Kelvhan commanded.
Without a further word, two elves stepped forward and the small group turned to leave.
“Plintze! Don’t you dare leave like that,” Selby called, then hurried over to him. She wrapped him in a tight hug. At first, he seemed shocked or irritated by the gesture, but then his hand settled on her back. After a couple of pats, he pulled away and hurried off with the others.
33
Ingrid
Sulfur in the air squeezed Ingrid’s lungs closed, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her skin prickled with heat as she clutched at her throat.
Then in an instant, the air cleared, and the scent vanished.
“I’ve warded the opening. You won’t have any further harmful effects,” Jarrick said. He stood over Ingrid’s left shoulder as she wiped her face and allowed herself to accept her surroundings.
They stood at the center of a large cave, open on the end. She recognized it from her vision. It was the dragon hive. Cautiously, she peeked over her shoulder. Behind her appeared to be a tunnel that led into the darkness.
At least there isn’t a nest. There wasn’t a threat of a mother trying to return to her eggs—or younglings needing a meal.
When she’d straightened herself and had her bearings, Ingrid twisted her neck toward Jarrick but didn’t look at him. “Did you bring me here?”
“This was not my doing, but Master Urkon always has good reasons for the lessons he chooses. Perhaps now would be a good time to explain? I’m not sure how long Ingrid’s human form can remain in such conditions,” Jarrick said. The last comment was directed over Ingrid’s head to her right where she assumed Urkon stood.
Ingrid could see clearly with the ward in place, and while the air was stuffy, it was breathable. Across from the opening, dozens of similar caves covered the far wall of the hollow interior of the mountain. Orange and black shadows flickered against the walls belying the swirling molten lake far below.
Movement from one cave drew Ingrid’s attention, and she stared dumbfounded as a dragon lumbered to the edge, stretched its large wings, and heaved into the air. She followed its flight path as it twisted and turned, then dove straight back to the ledge. Holding its wings wide, it landed with a grace Ingrid would not have expected.
The dragon was at least half the size of those Ingrid had seen before. It had a light yellow-green hide that darkened into a deeper pine color on the wings. Even from that distance, she could see the amber-colored eyes that winked closed as the beast yawned and stretched its front legs far in front of its arched back. It reminded her of a cat getting ready to take a nap.
Ingrid shook her head. The view didn’t match the confrontations she’d experienced. The creature she watched was . . . cute.
“Marvelous, aren’t they? The young ones are entertaining as they learn to fly and hone their skills.” Urkon stepped closer to the edge, enthralled with the same youngling that Ingrid studied.
There was no way she’d admit to admiring the beasts, though she couldn’t help herself. Before the dragon ambled back to what she could only guess was its nest, it had rolled to its back and wiggled. Then flipped quickly to its feet and shook a cloud of black dust from its body while it hopped in a circle. It looked as though it were playing.
“Why have you brought me here?” A tingle of fear skittered over her skin. When she’d struck her deal with Urkon, he’d said she needed to stay somewhere more appropriate. Was this where he meant? Oh please, gods no.
“I won’t make you stay here—if that’s what concerns you. But it makes a wonderful place for private discussions,” Urkon said. He tilted his head as he watched other dragons take flight or land on various outcroppings.
“Is this where Voxx lives? Will she be joining us?” Ingrid directed her question to Jarrick, peering at him with a side glance.
He, too, seemed enamored with the activity of the busy hive, but he shook
his head slightly. “This is the nursery. The younglings stay here until they are strong enough to survive on their own. Grown females without a nest to warm come and go, bringing nourishment. When these little ones are ready to live in the caves of the weyr, they will fight the female for her offering rather than wait for it. If it survives, it will leave and establish its own nest and order within the flight.”
“Jarrick is being modest. Voxx is the queen, and every member of the flight must earn her respect, or they do not survive.” Urkon faced Ingrid. A glint of excitement sparked in his eyes as he spoke.
“Earlier, you thought I didn’t know about the army you became privy to in the marketplace. Not only do I know of it, but I also designed it. No detail is without my knowledge. We'd created those you met from one of the higher-ranking dragons. We found that the stronger the dragon—the closer to Voxx in rank—the stronger the warrior. Unfortunately, they are harder to command as well. An alpha dragon's independence is unequaled. It was a small detail but easily corrected.
“Once you perform your duty, as agreed, I will control not only the ruvars, but the entire weyr. No realm will dare oppose me. If they do, their rebellion won’t last long.”
“There is a slight miscalculation in your assessment, I’m afraid,” Jarrick said. He stepped closer to Urkon, and his cinnamon scent spiked through the air. Ingrid brushed her finger under her nose at the sensation.
“I’ve missed nothing, my friend. No one will rival my power or control. Have no fear.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. When you proposed creating the ruvar army, I understood the necessity. I also knew that such a force would need a strong leader. One who would win every challenge to thwart any attempt at a coup of leadership. It’s the way of the dragons, as you know. None have challenged Voxx in centuries, but occasionally, a young buck gets the notion in its head. It’s short-lived—the notion and the beast.”
“That’s why we never used Voxx’s blood,” Urkon answered.
The two elves faced each other, and while they spoke in civil tones, Ingrid slid backward. Something didn’t feel right. She pressed herself into an indentation of the cave wall and watched in silence.
“We didn’t use Voxx’s blood because neither she nor I allowed it. You have taught me well. When you explained the process of mixing dragon blood with that of an elf, I recognized it was exactly what we needed. Not only would it establish an army of loyal soldiers, but they would be controllable only by whoever connected to them. Unfortunately, this is where you made your mistake.” Jarrick advanced closer to Urkon.
“I’ve made no mistakes. You are treading dangerously near the edge of my patience. Even limited, my powers surpass yours, and I will not tolerate such insubordination,” Urkon said. He sounded as strong and oily as ever, but Ingrid noticed the small shift of his weight. If Jarrick moved any closer, Urkon would step backward.
What is happening?
“The last piece of the plan needed the human healer. When you discovered Ingrid, I rejoiced, but I also wondered—what all that power would be like? I concluded it would be glorious.” Jarrick stepped closer, and as Ingrid predicted, the master scooted backward.
Urkon’s back was toward the cave opening, but the ward would keep him from falling off the edge. At least, Ingrid thought it would, but as her heart raced at Jarrick’s behavior, she realized there were no guarantees.
“I also wondered why I should deny myself. You’ve made a deal with Ingrid to bind the spell during my brother’s celebration, and she’ll keep that bargain. Though it will be for me,” Jarrick said. “Each time you used the seiðr to create another batch of serum, some of your essence soaked into it. You never paid attention when I connected to each elf before injecting them. As the serum coursed through their veins, their connection to my will solidified. They sought to please me, connect with me once more. When they did, the seiðr essence you’d given away, flowed to me. The ruvars listen to me. The victory belongs to me.”
“That’s not possible! Even if you’ve stolen some of my power, it is minuscule. Unbound, no one will have more power than me,” Urkon boomed. Even from the shadows, Ingrid could see the red blossom over his cheeks. Rage overtook his demeanor, and suddenly, the cave grew warmer.
At first, Ingrid thought the ward had dropped from the cave, but the sulfur smell hadn’t returned. Then she watched as Urkon’s hands formed balls of fire. A glowing aura of bright yellow blended to orange then red and surrounded him as it flickered against the walls. Movement near Urkon’s feet drew Ingrid’s attention. Shadows slithered up his legs and branched out from all around him.
It was the same magic he’d used against Aguane. Ingrid searched for a better place to hide.
“Stay where you are, Ingrid,” Jarrick warned. “You’ll be unharmed.”
How had he known what she would do? Her body trembled, and she pressed her back harder into the uneven rocky wall. He’s so calm. I’d almost believed Urkon was more dangerous.
Ingrid closed her eyes for several heartbeats to force herself to breathe evenly. When she opened them, she straightened herself and stood tall. Whatever the outcome, fate tied her to the winner of the battle shaping up in front of her. She’d face whoever it was with strength, not cowardice.
Jarrick cut a glance in her direction and smiled before concentrating on Urkon. The two stood five steps apart. Urkon’s magic crackled, echoing off the chamber walls. Flinging his hands, the balls of flames sailed at Jarrick.
Rather than duck out of the way, Jarrick stretched his arms out wide. When the magic hit him, he sucked in a deep gasp. Instead of flying backward or bursting into flame as Ingrid expected, the magic absorbed. Where flaming spheres had been, a bright green fog appeared. It encircled Jarrick in a cloud then soaked into him.
“What have you done?” Urkon screamed.
“I tried to warn you, my friend. Do you understand now why I can’t allow you to control the seiðr. It has been so long since you’ve controlled it that you’ve lost the ability to adapt. The leadership Vanaheim needs, that all the realms need, is one of proactive planning. I’m afraid your time to rule has passed you by.”
Urkon charged at Jarrick, a steady stream of fire flowing from his hands. As soon as it hit the dark elf, it again turned to green mist and absorbed.
“Stop!” Ingrid cried out. Not because she didn’t want to see anyone injured, but because she realized the more Urkon used his magic, the more powerful Jarrick became.
It was too late. Urkon was nothing but fury. When the two collided, sparks and blinding light forced Ingrid to cover her head. In a flash, the cave was dark again. A sizzle, like a dying campfire, hissed through the air.
Ingrid stared at Jarrick. His face tipped to the ceiling, arms spread wide, as the last of the green mist disappeared into his body. Urkon shuddered in a heap near Jarrick’s feet as a light moan emanated from him. He was still alive.
With a deep breath, Jarrick rolled his neck and seemed to swell taller and broader. He flicked his hands toward the front of the cave. The wards fell, allowing the blazing heat and sulfur scent to waft back inside.
Covering her nose, Ingrid squinted as she watched what would happen. Jarrick crouched down and spoke something to his mentor she couldn’t hear before rising to his full height again. A shadow crossed in front of the cavern, momentarily blocking the view. Then, rising from below, Voxx appeared. Her eyes latched onto Urkon as she hovered in front of the opening.
With a natural, unhurried stride, Jarrick reached Ingrid and held out his hand to her. “Come, Ingrid. Let’s leave Voxx to her prize.”
Wide-eyed, Ingrid snapped her attention to the front of the cave in time to see the dragon strike. The spikes surrounding her face scraped on the sides of the cave as she seized Urkon in her jaws.
A thunderous boom from her wings drowned out the screams of the seiðr master as Voxx flew away.
34
Jorg
An hour after Plintze left, the others were s
till in the process of breaking camp and preparing to finish the trek to Montibeo when two guards came rushing into camp.
“What is it?” Kelvhan asked with Caelya at his side.
“We were watching the pass behind us as commanded. There is a large contingent marching this way—led by the king,” one guard said.
Caelya grumbled and shared a look with Kelvhan. “How much longer until they reach us?”
“Thirty, forty minutes at most,” the second guard answered.
“We can hurry and leave before he arrives,” Jorg said as he strolled closer.
“That would only cause him to send a party after us. They’d make more trouble than it’s worth,” Caelya said. “It’s best if we wait and explain our plans.”
“He will not be happy that you’re here,” Kelvhan said to Caelya, ignoring the others.
“I know.”
“We should be ready to leave at least. So, once we explain, we can be on our way,” Jorg added. Selby and Bremen had joined the group and nodded in agreement.
Ready to go but being forced to stay had Jorg irritable. He paced the edge of camp, making the occasional growl under his breath. Distracted by his own behavior, he spun, ready to fight as Thelonius and Eir burst into camp. Two units of guardsmen stopped along the trail behind them, waiting.
“How did we not hear them coming?” Selby asked to no one in particular. Several of Kelvhan’s guards glanced her direction, seemingly confused by the question.
“I think they travel differently here than we’re used to,” Bremen responded. “Just be happy they’re allies.”
“Brother,” Caelya greeted Thelonius and gave a shallow bow. Everyone else in camp bowed deeply to the king. “What brings you up the pass?”
“Last we spoke, Eir and I were negotiating a plan to solve this situation. I am not the one who needs to explain their presence.”
Realm of Fate Page 19
