No one spoke as the princess closed her eyes and whispered words in a language Jorg didn’t understand. When she finished, she nodded to Kelvhan. “It’s ready.”
By appearances, nothing had changed. Jorg didn’t even see the telltale waver in the air as he’d found before. “Are you sure? How do we know it’s working?” he asked.
“If you see arrows coming at us, run the other way,” Caelya said with a grin.
“Comforting,” Bremen mumbled.
As they’d planned earlier, the guards stayed hidden in the trees as the five trekked toward the castle. There were no arrows, nor were there any bells or signals that someone had spotted them. But Jorg breathed a heavy sigh when they reached the stone walls.
“You know where to meet Aguane?” Caelya asked Kelvhan.
“Yes, we will be in and out as fast as possible. I’ll let you know when we leave. Stay no longer than necessary,” Kelvhan said in a way that sounded more like a plea than a command. “Stay safe.”
Caelya tilted her head up, and Kelvhan met her lips with a gentle, yet passionate kiss. Selby snorted from behind Jorg’s shoulder. When the two parted, Caelya stared at him with a cocked brow. He immediately raised his hands in surrender and said nothing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t suspected their relationship already. Who was he to judge his aunt for being in love with a guard? He loved Ingrid, and she was a goddess compared to him.
The princess turned from the group and hurried along the wall toward the front of the castle. She’d pretend she’d taken a portal to the front door while they snuck in through a scullery door.
“We no longer have the glamour, so stay alert,” Kelvhan commanded as they hustled around a corner.
The scullery was empty when they entered. No maids scurried about washing dishes or laundry. It was unnerving, but Jorg pushed it aside. He didn’t know the elve’s customs. Perhaps they didn’t need as much time to prepare meals as Norse women.
He only wanted to get to the meeting place and hold Ingrid. The bead around his neck hummed so loudly he expected the others to hear it, but it wasn’t noticeable to them. The heat grew against his flesh as they traversed the dark corridors. It didn’t burn this time, but it spurred him to move faster.
The group huddled together at the bottom of a set of stairs. “There’s a room midway down the hall past this tower. Stay here while I go to check if Aguane has moved the women yet,” Kelvhan whispered. Both Jorg and Bremen protested, but he stopped them. “We have to get them out of here as fast as possible. Reunions can wait for a more secure area.”
Neither of them liked what he said, but they waited with Selby as Kelvhan moved forward alone.
Seconds passed like hours as the three stared at the door Kelvhan disappeared behind. Finally, they heard muffled sounds, disturbing sounds as if there was trouble. Waiting no longer, the three raced ahead.
Kelvhan appeared, disheveled and wide-eyed. “Get out of here! They aren’t here—save yourselves. Now!”
At that moment, a large body crashed against Kelvhan, and several others poured out the door. Selby screamed, and all of them scrambled backward, slipping on the polished black tiles under their feet as they tried to help each other.
It was no use. The beasts slammed into them before they could gain their footing. Snarls echoed off the walls. Gigantic creatures with dragon snouts, horns, and forked tongues seized each of them. Elven bodies that were twice as large as they should have been held them in place with arms the size of logs and covered in shimmering scales.
Those must be ruvars.
Even though all three fought nonstop, they could not free themselves. The creatures scurried hastily to a set of stairs spiraling into a dark abyss. When they reached the bottom, the beasts tossed them to the floor in the middle of a dark room, but Kelvhan was not among them.
The brutes lit sconces along the walls, exposing many deadly weapons, a large stone table, and other various items for torture. There was only a single prison cell with open bars across the front. It faced the room, allowing whoever occupied it to witness whatever horrors might unfold.
Someone approached from behind, clicking their tongue as if scolding a child. “Such a predictable rescue attempt. I had hoped you’d provide more of a challenge,” Jarrick said with casual boredom lacing his words.
The creatures slunk into the darkness along the edges of the room as the dark elf approached the trio. All three rose to their feet and stood tall. “Where’s Kelvhan?”
“Who? Oh, that bumbling guard my sister is in love with. He's elsewhere. Hello again, Selby.” Jarrick leered at her, making Bremen place his arm protectively in front of her. “How charming, but at the moment, I only want to speak with my son. The two of you will be useful later.”
Jarrick motioned to the beasts, and two of them snatched Bremen and Selby before anyone could respond. A third one held Jorg’s arms behind his back as they dragged the others away down a dark tunnel.
“Where are you taking them?” Jorg snarled.
“Into other cells, where they can wait until I need them. Don’t concern yourself with trivial matters. We have more important matters to discuss. Like how we will get to know each other better. Father and son, together at last.”
“I have no intention of joining you.”
“No—” Jarrick twisted suddenly as if listening to the air behind him.
The bead flared under Jorg’s tunic, and he gasped. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he heard Ingrid’s voice.
“Our conversation will have to wait.” Jarrick rushed into Jorg shoving him backward until he tripped and landed on his backside within the empty cell. The bars slid closed. Jarrick touched them, and the doorway blended away so there were only bars without an exit.
Without speaking further, Jarrick strode out of the room while Jorg grabbed the bars, trying to free himself.
37
Ingrid
Ingrid paced the length of Galwain’s room while the queen sat patiently, staring at the fire they’d started. It had been hours since she’d called for Vimala, and yet there’d been no sign of the fylgia.
She probably can’t help me. Why would she risk coming here?
“At least, Jarrick hasn’t come either,” Ingrid said, though mostly to herself.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Galwain said.
A booming sound like thunder rattled through the wards on the windows. Cold air blew in and caused the flames in the hearth to dance and sputter. A dark shadow streaked across the outside of the openings. Galwain rose from her chair so suddenly it fell with a clatter to the floor.
The women rushed to the farthest corner of the room and ducked behind the bed. They held their breath and huddled together as the door opened.
When Jarrick sauntered in, Ingrid’s heart sank. It was a ridiculous thought, but she’d hoped it was Jorg. He stared straight ahead and sighed.
“I had hoped you would accept working with me, Ingrid. Once again, I see my wife has led someone away from me.”
“I’ve done nothing.” Galwain stood and kept Ingrid behind her. When Jarrick refused to turn toward her, she marched up to him. “It’s about time you came to see me. We need to talk.”
Jarrick spun and stared down at her. “I’m not here to speak with you.”
“When you brought me here, you appeared to want to restore our marriage. Why can’t we discuss that?”
“I brought you here for two reasons. One was to keep you from returning to another man while you are still my wife. Two was to draw out our son. He never had the chance to know who he is, and I want to correct that. Once you are no longer of use, you will not be here.”
“Send her home now. You have me, and Jorg is coming. You said so yourself.” Ingrid rushed to stand by Galwain’s side.
“Is that what you thought? I mean to send her home? Ingrid, you know me better than that by now. Elves mate for life. Since Galwain no longer wishes to be at my side, there is only one option for her.”
“Jarrick, you can’t mean that!” Ingrid cried. “I won’t help you if you harm Galwain.”
“You will. The bargain you struck is stronger than a marriage vow. Though the penalty for violating it is the same. Come with me, Ingrid. And Galwain, darling, Voxx will guard the skies. I've cleared the windows of the wards so she can hear if anyone enters. I suggest you hope no one does.”
Jarrick grabbed Ingrid by the arm and dragged her toward the door. Galwain wrapped her arms around Ingrid’s waist to stop him.
“Leave her alone. Let her stay with me. No one is coming, or they would have by now. We’ll both do as you say, just leave Ingrid here.” Galwain pleaded and pulled, her feet slipping along the floorboards as Jarrick paid no attention.
When they’d reached the door, Jarrick turned. With one hand, he knocked Galwain to the floor before he shoved Ingrid into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Guards lined the corridor. “No one goes in or comes out!” Jarrick called as he strode away, hauling Ingrid by her arm once again.
“Where are we going?” Ingrid clawed at Jarrick’s hand squeezing her arm. She even stooped to bite his fingers.
The dark elf paid no attention. He continued to drag her along as if she were casually strolling behind him instead of fighting like a shadow cat. “Since you don’t want to behave, you’ve forced me to restrain you.”
Jarrick descended the circular stairwell with Ingrid stumbling behind. Twice she fell, once cracking her knees against the stones, and another time her skull. She’d become dizzy and hadn’t been able to right herself. She could only throw her arm around her head as she tumbled on her back. Her arm wrenched as it stayed firmly in Jarrick’s grip.
When they reached the main floor, Jarrick turned and skirted the large open room between the arches. Instead, they went through a door at the end of a long hall and descended yet more stairs.
By the time they arrived at their destination, bruises welled on too many places for Ingrid to count. Jarrick finally dropped her hand, and she fell onto all fours, not bothering to look at her surroundings.
“Ingrid!”
She heard her name. Jorg? Roars from a crazed and trapped man drowned out her own inner voice. Lifting her head, tears blurred her vision. There he was, reaching for her through the bars of his cell.
Scrambling to her feet, Ingrid raced to Jorg. Despite her battered back and the cold bars between them, they held each other tight. Tears she’d held in since she’d arrived in the elven realm released like a flood, and she didn’t care. All that mattered was that Jorg held her. He’d come for her, and whatever it took, they’d make it. Any other alternative fled from her thoughts.
“I need to hear you,” Jorg whispered into her ear.
She knew what he meant, but she hesitated. Anything she said was public to all the elves. Jarrick was obviously behind her, but she heard other bodies shuffling around as well. Ingrid pulled back enough to gaze into Jorg’s eyes. Tears stained his cheeks as he smiled at her.
I’ve missed you. She no longer cared who heard.
Relief flooded over Jorg. He rested his forehead against hers. Ingrid felt his bunched and strained muscles soften. At the same time, she collapsed into him, her insides turning to liquid. The tension she’d carried melted away.
Thank you, Jorg’s voice said—but not out loud.
Startled, Ingrid flinched and stared into Jorg’s face. He pinched his brows as they both realized what happened.
Can you hear me? she heard him say again though his lips didn’t move.
Ingrid nodded.
How?
I don’t know, and I don’t care. Within her middle, sparks like a hundred logs popping in a fire surged through Ingrid. Her breath turned ragged, and she slumped against the bars. Knowing Jorg had survived, that he’d come for her, suddenly relaxed the tension she’d carried. Her magic released and surged through her body.
What is it? Tell me! What’s happening?
“Finally! I’ve been wondering what it would take to force you to awaken your powers,” Jarrick said from across the room. “Now we need to make sure you know what to do with them.”
Ingrid placed her hand against Jorg’s face, a soft smile on her face as she ignored everything else. Jorg turned his lips to her palm, and she closed her eyes. It was all she needed—he was all she needed. There wasn’t anything more important. Let Jarrick win as long as they were together.
A whimper came from somewhere down a corridor to her right. Before she processed the sound, a large arm wrapped around her waist and ripped her away from Jorg.
Ingrid kicked and fought while Jorg screamed. He yanked at the bars that kept him away from her to no avail. Whoever held her was too large for an elf. Her feet dangled off the ground and sharp armour jabbed against her shoulder blades. A slight sulfur aroma reached her nose, and she glanced down. With a sharp inhale, she froze. Shimmering scales covered the arm around her waist.
All thought halted. It wasn’t armour she felt. It was the body of a ruvar. At that moment, Ingrid finally noticed the room.
A stone table the size of a single bed stood in the center. It was fitted with leather straps hanging limply from each corner. On the far wall was a device like a loom, only it had shackles attached to the top and bottom of the frame. Along the same wall, another table held knives of every variety. Curved ones, straight ones, some with short blades, and some with long needle-like tips. Maces, mallets, and axes hung on the wall like gruesome decorations.
This was a room someone only entered alive once. Horrid images flashed in Ingrid’s mind. She grabbed the sides of her head as the assault continued. From somewhere outside, she heard her name. It wasn’t Jorg . . . it was female. Ingrid snapped her eyes open to watch two ruvars hold Selby down as Jarrick gagged her and strapped her to the center table.
When he finished, he faced Ingrid. One of the ruvars reached for a curved blade and held it against Selby’s stomach.
“Now, shall we discuss our plans for binding the spell? Or do you need more motivation?”
38
Ingrid
Ingrid’s best friend was a welcome sight though that relief was momentary since a beast was about to spill her guts like a deer. Rather than panic, something else took root inside Ingrid. The barriers locking away her magic completely disappeared. Emerging like a bear in spring, it flowed throughout her body with a roar.
It was a heady experience. Ingrid closed her eyes for a moment to relish the familiarity. Perhaps Jarrick had been right, and she’d blocked her powers with her own fears. That didn’t matter anymore. When she opened them, she focused on her friend.
Selby’s eyes sparkled behind her gag. She gave a slight nod, and Ingrid knew she’d get her friend off that table before anything happened to her. There was no way she’d allow Jarrick to hurt those she loved any longer. She broke her connection with Selby and faced the dark elf. A slight grin cracked the corner of her mouth.
“It’s stunning, the way your eyes become like gemstones. Remarkable. Ingrid, we will make the realms take notice. No longer will we cower to those lesser. You and I are unstoppable.” Jarrick stepped closer, ignoring Selby as he focused on Ingrid and how her magic manifested physically.
Ingrid held his gaze. Over his shoulder, she kept track of the leather straps around Selby’s hands as they released and silently dropped away. The ruvar waited for his next order and didn’t pay attention.
“I will not help you, Jarrick. You only want destruction. What you consider helpful denies the realms of their own choices. Everyone deserves to live in a way they choose, not under the controlling thumb of a dictator.”
The last strap slipped away from Selby’s foot.
“You don’t understand it yet, but you will once you see Vanaheim and experience the beauty and power there. Don’t make me force you.” Jarrick closed the gap between them. Towering over Ingrid and within reach.
“Caging and torturing those I love isn’t the way to convince
me.”
Jarrick narrowed his eyes though he kept his grin. “Maybe not, but it is a way to test you.”
Test me? The air thickened in the underground chambers. “What do you want?”
“What is she going to do with all that freedom? Can she overpower the ruvar before he slides that blade into her belly? Can you? I admire your friend. She’s a fine warrior, but she’s human. Do you really think she can stand against either of us if we don’t allow it?”
He’d known the whole time what Ingrid did behind his back. Ingrid shook her head at herself. No matter, she wasn’t afraid anymore. Jarrick had stolen Urkon’s powers, and he might do that to her as well, but she’d make him earn it and see her friends go free.
Power surged into Ingrid’s palms, and she slammed them against Jarrick’s chest. The dark elf flew backward into the table, startling the ruvar into lifting his blade. It was all Selby needed to roll her legs sideways and kick both feet into the creature’s chest. It stumbled, and she flipped herself off the table, throwing the gag to the ground.
While Jarrick and the ruvar righted themselves, Ingrid sprinted to Jorg. “Step back,” she said as she grabbed a bar in each hand. The metal warmed in her palms, glowing as if the bars had been placed in a forge. Ingrid felt the spell used to remove the door flicker then fade with a fizzing sound. Pulling on the bars, the latch popped open, and Jorg rushed out.
Rather than the embrace she’d have preferred at their reunion, Ingrid spun away. She raised her hands, letting her magic surge through her. The potency coursing through her veins created a euphoric sensation. Like a parched land finally receiving rain, she soaked in the nourishing succor.
“It’s intoxicating, isn’t it? The raw force that bends to your will. You are capable of so much more, things you haven’t yet experienced. Join me and let me teach you.” Wild and wide, Jarrick’s eyes shone brightly. The power in the room sizzled into the air.
Realm of Fate Page 21
