Chapter 12 #2
“It was destroyed,” Freyja gritted out. A gust of wind shook the windows. “Here—”she shoved a sweater at me. “You need another layer. It’s going to be cold out there. Wear this.”
Her tone could cut glass, but that wasn’t what made the goosebumps raid my arms.
I glanced at the long sleeves, rubbing the fabric between my fingers—blue, wool—exactly what I’d been wearing in the Pearl of Truth. I gulped, and it burned all the way down.
These weren’t just the ruins of some ancient settlement. These were the remains of war.
Rain and time had washed away the blood, but I swore I saw the stains between blinks. Swore I tasted the ash on the air between breaths.
The Pearl was right, something terrible had happened here. And now I couldn’t figure out if it was a history lesson or a warning of what might come. Or an even more disturbing idea: what if I wasn’t here to stop a war—what if I was here to start it?
Oh God.
“Does everyone know about this place?” It was one of those thoughts that happened to get spoken aloud, but I was curious about their way of life. About what got shown, what stayed hidden, who I might have seen in the Pearl.
“Yes,” Freyja said shortly as we reached the base of the bluff and started our crawl up the steep incline.
I stared out the back window, the wreckage growing smaller in the distance. “You aren’t afraid of mortals stumbling across it? Of finding out about you?”
She shrugged. “Half the population here already believes in the hidden folk. In elves. It’s not considered weird; it’s just part of life. Part of the culture.”
“Unless we’re using Galdur in the open,” Gunnar chirped.
“What’s Galdur?”
“Elven magic—” he started to say, until Freyja cut in.
“Which would be against elven law.” She gripped the steering wheel tighter, glaring into the rearview mirror to lock eyes with me. “Back to the point though. Most our quirks go unnoticed.”
Had to agree with her there. Regardless of the mental filter humans had that caused them to overlook most supernatural things, most were too distracted to put together the pointy ears, the grace and the stillness, the immortal glow to their skin, anyways.
Obviously, I was no elf.
But I imagined—whether from heightened elven senses or the fact we’d met in a magical hostel—they knew I wasn’t human either.
Freyja tucked a stray strand of hair into her braid. “The mortals here respect us, and we live alongside them peacefully.”
Ryder had once told me a similar story, about the different species preferring to disperse into society, to blend, if it was a viable option for them.
My fists tightened at the thought of him. Every muscle in me did.
“Here we are.” Freyja pulled into a spot in the empty, unpaved lot and cut the engine.
Aside from the fierce wind jostling the car, it was quiet.
The elves stared at me with tilted chins and knowing gazes.
“Well…” Head swiveling, I took in the blustery, desolate cliffside, noting the lack of buildings—and people. I tugged on my collar, the space getting tighter, hotter. “This is a bust.”
“Perhaps we should head back,” Freyja suggested flatly.
I twisted in my seat. The lighthouse was right there, identical to my vision—down to the salt-stained ivory sides and the red circular tower. I had to at least try to open it. Who knew when I’d have the chance to come back? Sure, I could book a tour, but…
“I need some fresh air.” My heart thudded so savagely against my ribs that I was positive they could hear it. “Do you mind if I step out for a sec?”
I didn’t wait for a reply.
Fingers grasping the handle, I flung the door open and practically jumped out before a forceful gust slammed it shut. No clue what they said, if they even answered. But I felt their watchful eyes piercing me in the back like daggers my entire walk up the loose gravel path.
A slitted square column of smooth, pale stone stood in front of me. No door, which meant it must be on the other side. The ocean side.
The moment I disappeared from the elves’ view behind a corner, I felt my jaw release, tension melting from my body.
Safe from prying eyes, I hurried to the entrance. I reached for the handle, pressing as hard as I could.
It didn’t budge.
I doubled down. Now, with both hands, I tried to force it open, frantically shaking the handle, ramming my hip and shoulders into the wood. Mau knew it’d be locked. Deep down inside, I knew it too, but I still tried with all my might. “C’mon, you stupid thing…”
“It won’t open.”
All the air left my lungs in a gasp. “I”—hand shooting to my chest, I stepped away from the door—“I didn’t realize you were there.”
Arms crossed, Freyja and Gunnar stood on the terrace, where the concrete path met the grass.
Unmoving, unblinking, like two majestic, elven statues.
They were a decent amount of space away if I needed to slip past them and run.
But considering how fast and silent they had proven themselves to be, eh, maybe running wasn’t the right call.
I pulled at my frayed cuticles. “Ready to head back?”
A low howl whipped across the cliffs, rustling my damp hair.
Freyja took the first step closer. “That aunt of yours, what’s her name?”
“Um.” Heat gathered in my cheeks. “Gaia?”
“That’s an old name.” She crept closer. “One that has roots. History. You know what it reminds me of, G?”
Gunnar bit back a coy smile.
“A very important Empyrean figure.” Chest inches from mine, she halted, her tall frame drenching me in shadow. “What kind of soul-searching are you doing here, exactly?”
“I—” I choked on the words, my throat closing off.
The jig was up. They knew. Of course they fucking knew.
“I was waiting for you to come clean on the way here.” Freyja’s suspicion raked over me in one long, judgmental sweep of her eyes. “I humored you by driving in circles. Humor me and tell me why you’re here, angel.”
The air seemed to tighten around us, turning heavy and charged, almost unbreathable. I sucked down a burning inhale with some effort. “What’s it to you?”
Her hand moved to her waist—to the blade sheathed there. Gunnar followed suit.
My body went rigid, and I pushed out the truth. “I saw myself here in a vision.”
That wasn’t enough. Apparently, the elves needed more to release their grips from their pommels.
“I need to talk to Gaia. We used to… communicate.” Wasn’t sure that was the right word, given that her voice used to infiltrate the sounds of my everyday life and I’d just had to listen and deal, but I went with it.
“Then you should know it’s locked,” Gunnar said. A warning lined his tongue.
“Kind of hard when she just up and disappeared. Did you know that?” I probably should have stood down, but the lack of sleep and my rising frustration did me no favors.
“If I don’t find her, this entire realm is at risk of war.
And if what I saw on the way here was the result of the last one, you don’t even want to know what this next one will bring. ”
I moved to go around them. Before I could, Freyja held up a palm. Damp earth erupted out of the concrete, a wall of lawn and stone spewing up like a geyser.
My arms flew to cover my head, and I squinched my lids shut until the clods of dirt no longer rained down. When I opened my eyes, her expression had hardened, narrowed. It was all wrong.
“Was that a threat?” Freyja barked.
“What?”
“Who sent you?”
“No one.”
“Don’t lie to me.” In one smooth flick of her wrist, the dagger came between us.
Flinching as if she’d actually struck me, I said, “This feels a lot like an interrogation.”
Her teeth bared in a humorless smile. “It is.”
“Are you serious?” I curled my fingers into my palms, willing my body to stop trembling with unspent adrenaline. “If anything, I should be asking you two why you’re so protective of an Empyrean landmark. Who sent you? Who are you looking for? Who do you serve?”
The knife glinted, sharp as Freyja’s eyes. “Watch your tongue, Water Angel.” So they hadn’t missed my little stunt in the ocean. “You know nothing of us. We serve no one but our queen.”
“You’re on our land.” Gunnar’s lips stretched into what should have been a smile, but it held not even an ounce of his original charm. “And we protect it at all costs.”
Sun broke through the clouds, dancing off the sharp tip of her blade, still pointed at me.
A pang of hurt cleaved my chest. I hadn’t done anything to them. I didn’t deserve this.
Limbs tingling with rage and power, I stepped over the hole she’d blown in the concrete. In defiance. In opposition.
She rolled her neck. “Oh? Does someone have a statement to make?”
My body buzzed with nerves and something that felt a lot like magic. As I tightened my fists, a thick haze gathered overhead, eclipsing the sun.
The tide beat onto the crags below like a steady drum. Here, we were never far from the water, and the element seemed to surge through my body, a rush of strength that harmonized with my fear and anger. The ground trembled beneath our feet.
“That’s enough!” Gunnar shot between us, arms out as if they were shields. “It’s time for a field trip.”
“What?” I spat. “No.”
“Yes.” He sighed, a kiss of a breeze twining through his thick twists of hair, the clouds scattering. “An angel is sneaking around, trying to breach the realms? You need to pay the Elven Queen a visit.”
“Breach the realms?” I scoffed. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”
Judging by Gunnar’s and Freyja’s darkening stares, they didn’t care.
“Fine,” I huffed, out of options, anyway. I’d meet their queen. Unfortunately for her, I was all out of smiles and charm.
Those things didn’t suit me, anyway.