Chapter 13
Neither of the elves acknowledged me. They hardly even glanced at each other as they stomped to the car, pushed me into the back seat, locked the doors, and drove away.
We raced down a wet, slick road towards their queen. My hands twisted in my lap as I picked at the frayed skin. I’d been full of adrenaline on the bluffs, but now it was waning.
Now I was scared.
Their accusations echoed in my mind. Their words thrown and weapons pointed as if I were the threat, as if I were the enemy.
Mountains rose to the left, the sharp, snowy peaks cutting into the sky.
The vibrant grass that carpeted the foothills gave way to glistening ice fields.
Snow no longer merely capped the summits but cascaded down the cliffside.
The hum of the tires and the off-and-on patters of rain were the only sounds to break the silence for hours.
Freyja pulled into a near-empty parking lot just as a few remaining tour operators were packing their shuttles full. Arctic water surrounded us—trickling down the mountains, running off the massive glacier, flowing into a vibrant lagoon and then into the stormy sea.
The chill of it crept into the car, frosting the windows, turning my breaths into little puffs of clouds.
“Get out,” Freyja barked. Gunnar gave me a small smile and opened my door.
I stepped out of the car and put my hand to my brow, squinting against the sun. The waning light coated everything in a warm, orange glow, igniting the fragments of ice into fiery diamonds.
“Where are we?” I dared to ask.
“Jokulsárlón Glacier Lagoon,” Freyja replied, popping up beside me. “The entry point to the Kingdom of the Huldufólk.”
My blood ran colder than the glacier sheeting the horizon.
Gunnar headed for the narrow waterway that divided the fresh waters of the lagoon from the salty ocean, motioning for us to follow. “Come.”
Freyja angled herself into my line of sight, arm outstretched, beckoning—or maybe she was just trying to block me from running. I took in a tight inhale, the icy air sharp on my lungs. And I walked, head low, legs heavy, as they brought me to…
A boat.
Freyja jerked her chin at it. “Get in.”
It didn’t look like anything more than a quintessential rowboat as it rocked against the dark shore. Expecting Gunnar to bust out an oar—and maybe hand it to me—I was surprised when he tugged a small motor on instead.
“You coming?” he asked, although it was clear it wasn’t a question.
“I’d listen to him,” Freyja whispered in my ear. She backed towards the vessel, wiggling her fingers. Taunting.
I frowned so hard I could feel my face wrinkling.
She just laughed, one foot already in the boat.
Anger flickered through me. Source gathered in my chest, like I was sucking up all the energy from the elements, as if I were my own conduit. And maybe I could be. I’d have to be.
With a hard glare, I did as I was told.
Gunnar gave me a nod of approval when I stepped gingerly onto the wood beside him. “Remove your earrings and any other jewelry.”
I might have expected such an outlandish request from Freyja, but Gunnar? It sent my Source skittering. “What?”
“You heard him.” She tabled her palm. “Your jewelry.”
My hands shot to my earlobes. “Why?”
Her slate gaze pinned me as if I were an unruly child, but she only smirked in reply.
“The mermaids,” Gunnar finally supplied.
Mermaids?!
“They’re attracted to shiny things.” Freyja unclasped her own white-gold chain from around her wrist, then unclipped the many hoops from her ears. “Wouldn’t want to get pulled under. Now hand it over.”
Hesitantly, I pulled off my rings and plucked out my studs.
Curling her hand around the goods, she reached for a tackle box nestled under an overstuffed duffel beneath the first row of seats.
The boat rocked as I sat down, the wood creaking. “What are you doing with them?”
“Keeping them out of sight.” She shut the lid. “And keeping us safe.”
My muscles trembled, anxious, unspent energy zinging through me.
Gunnar took his position by the motor. “You ready?”
Whether I was ready or not, he reversed us away from the shore. We headed into the lagoon, away from the ocean, towards the glacier.
The air thinned, chilled. My cheeks turned numb, my lashes froze, and my nose felt pretty much nonexistent. Resting my elbow on the edge, I peered into the turquoise water, my reflection broken up by pieces of floating ice.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Freyja murmured.
The mirror image of myself pursed her lips. “And why’s that?”
“So we don’t have a catastrophe, I’ll repeat myself: they love shiny things, and your eyes are as bright as a royal jewel.”
My shoulders stiffened, but I refused to let the concern slip into my voice. “Oh please, as if they’d actually rip my eyes out of their sockets.”
I shook my head, but instinct stirred within me. I so badly wanted to prove her words didn’t bother me, that violent mermaids were just a creative story meant to scare me…
A shadow flickered just beneath the surface.
Then a splash on the starboard side.
I whipped around, heart hammering. Rippled rings disturbed the water, but that was probably from a piece of ice or our boat or a fish.
Probably.
Freyja leaned back on her hands at the bow. Her long neck arced, braid trailing to her waist. A thin scar ran along her jaw, so faint I would’ve never noticed if her golden-brown face wasn’t kindled by the hues of dusk.
“See something you like?” she taunted, eyes closed.
“No!” It came out a touch too loud, drawing a smirk out of her. Cheeks searing, I turned to the water, just in time to catch the spotted head of a seal dip under. “So, are we going to talk about what happened back there?”
“Hmm?”
“At the lighthouse?”
“What about it?”
I twisted to face her. “You cornered me, accused me of trespassing, and pulled a knife on me?!”
“Mm-hmm, right.” Why did it sound like she was half-asleep?
“I’m sorry, am I boring you or something?”
She shrugged, not a care in the world in those loose shoulders. “Just doing my job.”
“Isn’t your job at the hostel?”
She sighed. “That’s more of a side hustle.”
“Fine. What are you doing now?”
“Getting you to the Queen of the Huldufólk.” Another dodgy answer out of her. A yawn.
Sharp pain radiated from my thumb, and a drop of blood smeared my pointer. I hadn’t even realized I’d been picking at the dry skin around my nails. “What exactly is she going to do with me?”
“Who knows?” Freyja finally opened her eyes, a fiendish grin parting her cheeks. “Feed you to Helgustaeir’s spar dragon? Or deliver you to the trolls? Perhaps lock you in the dungeons beneath the castle—”
“That’s…” Panic scraped my insides, clawing up my throat. “That’s enough.”
“Sometimes at night I can still hear the screams of the last prisoner she took.” Elbows resting on her knees, she leaned forward. “Such a terrible fate…”
“Stop!” The force of my shout reverberated across the water, splitting off a chunk of an iceberg, violently rocking the boat.
The motion underfoot flung me to the side. I grasped the railing before I could fly overboard, my knuckles white.
“Impressive.” Freyja’s words were steady, but her arms were out, palms flat against the bench.
Behind me, Gunnar’s mouth hung open in similar shock.
“Sorry, I—” I started to say, but the words died on my lips.
Two of the most unusual beings I’d ever seen shot out of the water onto a floating sheet of ice.
At first, I thought they were seals. But their movements were so deliberate, so artful—winking giant black eyes, webbed hands combing their stringy hair, the most godawful voices cooing a tuneless song. I lifted my hands to cover my ears.
A slight shake of the head, so minor it could have been passed off as a tic, was all that Freyja did to signal for me to keep my hands where they were.
Gunnar stood, sweeping into a bow. “Beautiful day it is, ladies.”
Screechy giggles tore into my eardrums, and it took every little muscle not to flinch. Freyja shot them a brilliant smile, waving and covering her heart as if she was addressing the queen and not—mermaids, I realized.
“Indeeed,” one sang, slapping her fish tail against the frozen surface.
The other fanned herself, as if she were moments away from fainting, delicate but deadly claws whizzing through the air. The edges of her tail were still submerged. Under the water, it glistened like a vibrant coral, the dusty pink scales shimmering with her titters.
Adjusting her spotted body, she slid off the ice with hardly a splash. I held in my breath as a line of bubbles drifted closer to the boat. To us. The elves were still fawning, still smiling, unbaffled. Guess I was alone in that.
My forced grin slipped when fingers—human fingers—clasped the rail. But they quickly changed, turning green and slimy. Turning webbed.
Long, ruby locks swayed like strands of algae in the current, the mermaid’s head splashing through the surface with one graceful bob, water dripping over her porcelain skin.
It wasn’t long before the delicate freckles, the rust-colored gaze, the sweet pearly smile, turned rigid and splotchy and amphibian. Her ears disappeared completely, nose flattening to a couple of mere slits.
Whiskers lengthening, she fixed her gaze on Gunnar, her enlarged pupils rimmed with a faint trace of her human irises, but soon those were lost to her seal form, too.
Oddly, she held up a fork. The bent metal reflected in the light as she waved it in the air like it were as dainty as a silk handkerchief.
Gunnar plucked it from her hand, then took her webbed fingers in his, the clear mucous coating of her skin glistening like dew as he brought them up to his lips.
A giggle scraped her throat. I fought to hold in a gag.
My eyes watered, the corners of my mouth dragging down at the strong scent of fish that coated the air. Freyja kicked my ankle, her smile so sharp it could cut throats. A warning to not break the facade. I sat up a little higher, willing the bile to stay in my stomach.