Selby and Jorg grabbed weapons and kept the ruvar busy. Ingrid needed to get them out of the castle. The room had only two exit points; the stairs she’d tumbled down earlier, and a dark corridor leading the other direction. The likelihood of that being a dead end was too great a risk. She slid her foot sideways and encouraged Jarrick to circle with her.
“You can’t escape from this room,” Jarrick jeered.
“We’ll see, but right now I’m wondering something about your plan,”
“Yes?” Jarrick’s smile widened. His excitement over her interest obvious.
“When you realized you were stronger than Urkon, it made you want his position. Perhaps I’ll do that to you,” Ingrid said. She narrowed her eyes and let her magic build.
“I suppose you could try, but that’s years away. You have far too much to learn to overthrow me.”
Ingrid twisted her mouth as if to weigh his words, then shrugged. “Do either of us truly know how much power I have? Freya’s blood runs in my veins. Could you beat her in a battle?”
The taunting made Jarrick’s expression grow cold. His sardonic smile replaced by a thin white line as he pressed his lips tight.
War cries and roars echoed through the chamber. Her friends held their own against the large beast, but Ingrid knew how hard they were to kill. “Go for the joints and heels. It's where they're weakest,” she called out.
“Thanks for the tip,” Selby grunted out as she swung a club with spikes on the end.
Ingrid flicked a glance their direction in time to see Jorg spin with blurring speed and jam his blade into the ruvar’s neck. The beast roared and sputtered, falling to his knees. Selby slashed his throat. The duo raced closer to where Jarrick and Ingrid stood locked in a standoff.
“Father, I’m hurt. You give Ingrid all this attention, and you barely notice me. I thought we would be close,” Jorg taunted.
Ingrid rolled her lip between her teeth. The influence of his time spent with Selby gave a spark of joy, despite the madness surrounding them.
With the room silenced, Jarrick sighed and tilted his chin to the ceiling for a heartbeat. “I had high hopes for us, son. It’s possible you have too much of your mother’s stubbornness, which is unfortunate.”
A faint scream came from the corridor. Ingrid saw Jorg glance that direction and knew he’d heard it, too. Would more ruvars come for them? It had only sounded like one voice.
Ingrid toyed with dropping her mental barriers, but Jarrick would hear whatever she’d say to Jorg, anyway. No use in keeping only Selby in the dark.
“Who is that?” She directed the question to Jarrick, but Jorg seemed to have the answer as well.
“Ah, the other human. Let’s not forget about his safety. I think that may make poor Selby distraught,” Jarrick sneered.
Ingrid met Selby’s gaze. “Bremen?”
Selby nodded as she narrowed her eyes at Jarrick—fierce determination oozing from her disposition. It meant they couldn’t escape just yet. Ingrid would need to release the wards from his bars as she'd done with Jorg's.
Only Ingrid could free him. She flashed a grin at Jorg and bolted from the room.
39
Jorg
Every fiber of Jorg’s body wanted to follow Ingrid down that dark hallway. But she’d been glorious as she’d unlocked the bars of his cage. Her turquoise eyes glowed, and her skin radiated. Even her wildflower scent overpowered the stuffy odor of the chamber. The bead hummed constantly now, purring against his chest like a content kitten. She could free Bremen on her own.
Keeping Jarrick busy was his job. Selby was a great warrior, but the journey had shown them her vulnerabilities well enough. He needed to keep his father’s focus directed at himself. Knowing he shared the same blood as the monster in front of him churned in his gut.
“Tell me, does it ever bother you? Do you have any remorse for the pain you cause others?”
“I do. It pains me that so many refuse to listen to the message I present. They’d rather wallow in their diseased beliefs than change their ways. I’m not without compassion, son. If I were, you would not be standing here. I wouldn't care so well for your mother and keep her tucked safely away in a comfortable room.”
“Do you still hear her? The space and the silence clawed at my mind, nearly driving me crazy when Ingrid left. The relief from that pain is as sweet as honey. Don’t you agree?”
If Jorg could get his father to reveal where Galwain was, they could still get her out of the castle with them. Selby fidgeted by his side. She wouldn’t stand for the inaction much longer. They needed to get the information so they could run as soon as Ingrid returned with Bremen.
“The intensity of a pain like that is unequaled. And solitary. Your mother never realized the effect because of her humanity. Never again will she hold any control over me. The reminder of her betrayal serves me well.”
“You keep yourself in pain, even though you stole her to be with you? That’s just foolish,” Selby said.
Jarrick flicked his hand toward her, and she slammed against the far wall. Rather than slide down when her body went slack, she stuck there as her head hung limp. As if suspended, her contorted shape adorned the wall like a painting.
“What have you done?” Jorg’s jaw clenched. His chest rumbled from his animal-like growl. Everyone he cared about suffered because of this vile menace.
“We have more important details to discuss than a nonessential human, son.” Jarrick sauntered across the room. “If Ingrid chooses the wise path, I’ll make her queen of Vanaheim once I settle everything. You can become her king or become as unnecessary as your mother. The choice is yours, but I hope you join us.”
“Is my mother alive?”
“Does that matter?”
“If you want to make a deal with me, then I need something in return. Assure me she is alive, release her, and I’ll consider your offer.”
Jarrick laughed. “So, the question becomes, ‘what’s in it for you?’ That’s the closest you’ve acted like my son, yet, I can’t negotiate regarding Galwain.” The dark elf grimaced as if saying her name tasted foul in his mouth.
Jorg still held the sword he’d grabbed off the wall earlier. He was faster, lighter on his feet, and stronger since he’d arrived in the elven realm. Was he fast enough to reach Jarrick before he flicked his wrist as he’d done with Selby?
A smirk played on Jarrick’s lips. He stood calm, his hands folded in front of himself, waiting.
“You’re right about something, you know. It is a shame I didn’t grow up here, understanding the strength this realm gives me,” Jorg said. He let his shoulders relax though he stayed on the balls of his feet. “Instead, I grew up scorned. Taunted and teased because I was different. Facing bully after bully who thought he could beat up the pointy-eared demon. The thing is, it forced me to hone my skills at fighting.”
“You think you can beat me? I have more power than anyone. When that spell falls and I gain the last of Urkon’s magic, not even Odin will resist me. Don’t challenge me, son.”
“I don’t think I will.” Jorg dropped the sword to his side in what appeared to be surrender. The bead under his tunic pulsed with energy he’d never felt. “One of the best lessons I learned from all those battles growing up—when someone is stronger than you, step aside and fight another day.”
Jarrick tilted his head. The suspicion over Jorg’s intentions clear on his face. The dark elf had been so focused on his son he hadn’t noticed Ingrid and Bremen arrive. They waited at the edge of the corridor, their backs pressed against the wall out of view of Jarrick.
“Did you think I meant you?” Jorg smiled and flicked his eyebrows. Though he dared not glance in her direction—or drop the mental protections Thelonius had shown him to speak to Ingrid—he knew she understood.
As fast as lightning, she jumped into the room and slammed into Jarrick with her power. He stumbled backward, tripping over the body of the dead ruvar.
Jorg and Bremen
charged to Selby. They tried to pull her down, but something kept her tight against the stone. Jorg glanced over his shoulder to see Ingrid advancing on Jarrick. His body jerked as if he’d had been hit by the goblin-breaker club.
The air in the chamber was still and stuffy, yet Ingrid’s hair swirled as if she stood in the wind. Her skin glowed, and his face tingled from the power radiating from her. Whatever she did, it caused the spell against Selby to fall, and she slumped into Bremen’s waiting arms. As soon as she was secure, Jorg called to Ingrid.
We need to go now, Hjarta. Come with me. She didn’t respond, and he worried she couldn’t hear him. Ingrid, it’s time to go.
Slowly, she twisted her neck and met his gaze. Her eyes were so bright he had to squint, but he held steady. Stretching out his hand to her, he nodded.
With a gasp, her eyes dimmed, and she hurried to slip her hand into his. Together, they ran for the stairs with Bremen carrying Selby in ahead of them.
40
Ingrid
Ingrid squeezed Jorg’s hand. Solid and secure, she hurried up the stairs after him. Her mind a swirl of images.
The bars on Bremen’s cell had been easy to break. There wasn’t even a ward on them, but he’d been so far down the hallway it had taken them too long to return. Whatever Jarrick did to Selby sickened Ingrid, and it was all she could do to keep Bremen from charging into the room when he’d seen her.
Instead, they waited out of view and listened. She’d been so impressed by Jorg. Instead of fighting his father with strength, he’d used cunning and prowess. Then, he’d stepped aside for her. He believed in her, and it had strengthened her.
When the first surge of magic released from her hands, it had made her dizzy. As it slammed into Jarrick, she worried that she’d fall right after him. Instead, she’d settled into it, letting it flow through her like the blood in her veins. It became euphoric the longer she attacked.
It had been a struggle to stop. Only with the help of Jorg’s voice was she able to reel back her power. What would have happened if he hadn’t stopped her? She shuddered and returned her focus to the climb. After all the time her magic had been locked away, she wouldn’t question its return. There would be time to figure it all out later, after she'd saved everyone.
At the top of the stairs, Selby groaned against Bremen’s shoulder. They ducked around a corner and hid in the shadows.
“Let me closer,” Ingrid whispered. Jorg twisted to let her by but didn’t release his hold. Despite the worry she held for her friend, she smiled. She didn’t want to let go either.
Laying her free hand on Selby’s arm, Ingrid closed her eyes. The healing energies swirled in her middle, and for a heartbeat, she let them soothe her own soul. She pushed a thread through her fingers into her friend, watching as it traveled through her body. Bruises healed on her kidneys, and her lungs inflated to full strength, but something was still wrong.
Pinching her brows together, Ingrid kept her eyes closed as she searched for what kept Selby in pain. When she reached her spine, she saw it. A crack ran through one bone and fluid leaked around it. Sounds from the castle distracted Ingrid for a moment, but she heard Jorg’s soothing voice.
Don’t worry. Help Selby. Everything is fine.
Hearing his voice in her mind gave her a rush of adrenaline. She focused on Selby once more. Releasing a thin, steady stream, Ingrid watched the golden thread shimmer and spark as it mended the wound and sealed the cracked bone.
Selby gasped and sprang into a sitting position. Ingrid sat back and leaned into Jorg. He snuggled her close to him. Short-lived as it was, in that moment, life was perfect.
The clang of metal on metal and the shrieks of battle cries grew louder. Whoever fought was headed in their direction. Before they rose from the floor, Selby snatched Ingrid from Jorg in a crushing hug. Tears sprung to her eyes as she embraced her friend.
“Let’s get out of here. I have so much to tell you,” Selby said.
“I can’t wait to hear every word,” Ingrid replied and had never meant it more.
“Ingrid, do you know where my mother is?” Bremen asked.
The stairs leading up the tower to the upper floor were halfway down the hall. Ingrid pointed, and they all scrambled to their feet. “This way.”
Two steps up the tower, Ingrid stumbled as a gentle voice sang into her mind. Ingrid, I’m here for you. Come now, and I’ll get you through the passage to the Yggdrasil tree, but you must hurry. Meet me outside.
Vimala! She’d arrived to help Ingrid. The fighting grew louder as the group continued to lead the way up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, they found Kelvhan’s guards fighting Jarrick’s.
“Her door is there,” Ingrid pointed to a spot in the middle of the melee, then tugged Jorg to the side. Bremen and Selby charged forward.
“I have to go,” Ingrid said as she lay her hand next to Jorg’s cheek, gazing into his eyes. The sounds of battle faded as she soaked in the moment. “I can bind the spell and stop Jarrick.”
“You will, and then you’ll come back,” Jorg said. He slipped the bead out of his tunic and over his head.
Ingrid gasped. “My bead! How did you find it?”
“It was in the courtyard, buried in the ash. Eir used it to form a connection between us. It’s how I knew where to find you.” He lifted Ingrid’s hair, so the bead rested around her neck. “You are so strong, and I felt it. I hate that you have to go, but whatever happens, know that I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Ingrid wanted to assure him that she’d be back, and they’d have more time together, but she couldn’t form the words. It wasn’t a promise she could make. Whatever the spell needed, she had to give. All the realms would crumble into chaos if she didn’t.
Allowing themselves another moment, they kissed softly. Every ounce of their emotions—enough to last a lifetime—flowed between them. A tear slid down each side of Ingrid’s face as she broke away.
There wasn’t anything left to say, and they both knew it. Jorg nodded, trying to smile but failing.
Ingrid spun and ran for the stairs. If she stayed with Jorg any longer, she might not leave. The magic, which was so distant before, flared at the ready. She couldn’t let anything or anyone stop her from putting an end to Jarrick’s plans.
The bead bounced against her chest, knocking against the rune pouch already there. She had everything she needed.
Vimala, I’m coming.
41
Jorg
When Ingrid disappeared down the tower steps, Jorg turned his focus to the fight taking place in the hallway. Bremen and Selby had already joined the fray. They held their own, but the two were no match for the elven warriors.
Jorg let himself feel the power within that had presented itself as soon as he’d entered Alfheim. His elven blood tingled with energy. Charging forward, he added his battle cry with the others.
Still holding the sickle blade he’d snatched from the torture chamber, Jorg pulled his dagger for his other hand. These men weren’t ruvars but Jarrick’s standard guard, like those who had ambushed him in the barracks. Even though these were not the same elves, Jorg found the situation redemptive.
A flash of red caught his attention. Jorg glanced to his left to see Bakkan, the king's guard who had helped him recover. He’d gone with Plintze to the border. The dwarf wasn’t in the hallway, and Jorg could only hope he was fighting somewhere else. The alternative was not an option.
“Bremen, she’s behind that door,” Jorg called to his brother and gestured to the door only steps away from where he stood. The other king’s guard surged forward at the information and helped to clear the way.
Selby was the first to reach the handle, and she darted into the room. Bremen followed with Jorg at his heels. Huddled in a corner, Galwain crouched with her arms over her head. Shrieks rattled the walls from the large obsidian dragon hovering outside the windows.
Jorg’s grip tightened on the weapons at his side. It was the dragon from
the courtyard, but it wasn’t the time for revenge.
They needed to get Galwain out of the castle.
“Mother!” Bremen yelled and dodged for the queen.
She either didn’t hear him over the dragon, or she was too frightened to move. Jorg and Selby moved to stand guard over the two as Bremen knelt beside Galwain.
Jorg heard a gasp and peeked over his shoulder. Galwain clutched Bremen in a tight hug. Relieved she seemed uninjured, Jorg returned his focus to the threat outside. Without warning, the dragon flew toward the windows, and its gigantic head crashed through the stone arches.
Thankfully, it did not spew its deadly fire. Jorg and Selby twisted away from the burst of stones spraying into the room.
“We have to leave,” Jorg said urgently. Galwain had tears streaming down her cheeks as she nodded to him with a smile.
Bremen pulled their mother to her feet and held her next to him as Jorg grabbed hold of Selby’s wrist. She was fierce enough to handle herself, but he needed to know she was safe.
When the dragon pulled back from the rubble, they ran for the door. They’d just made it through when the hallway shook from another impact by the dragon.
There were only a handful of warriors battling down the hall. Bakkan and four other guards joined Jorg and those helping to get the queen to safety.
“Did Plintze make it back with you?” Jorg asked Bakkan as they ran.
Selby skidded to a stop, dragging Jorg with her. She slammed her hand into the large elf’s chest. “Did he? Why isn’t he here?”
Bakkan stopped running, stunned, then shook his head. “He made it. He’s with Eir and the king. We should keep going.” He directed them toward the stairs with a hint of a smile directed at Selby’s fervor.
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