Chapter 25
Searing light forced my eyelids open, the bright streaks of another icy day pouring over my face. The curtains parted abruptly as someone—tall, regal, a diadem resting between her pointy ears—pulled them open.
It took a second for my brain to finally catch up with what I was seeing.
Eyes widening, I rolled onto my back, wiping the dried drool off my jaw.
“Hildur?” I rasped, pushing up onto my elbows. “I mean, uh, Your Highness?”
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” With an abrupt flick of her wrist, she opened the next set of curtains. Sunlight rushed in. “Galivanting all night long, sleeping until noon. This isn’t a hotel.”
Noon? I shot up, the sheets crinkling around last night’s clothes.
The day for Jarearbaeli had come. “Are you taking me to Gaia?”
“Soon.” Facing me, she tapped her fingertips together. Her layered gown draped off her in waves, the sage fabric pooling on the floor. “I need a favor from you first.”
My chest caved. More favors. More things. The Coffin Seeker’s words rang through my mind—the tone especially. Is she? wasn’t the response I’d anticipated when I’d told him where the queen was taking me today. He knew.
With a heavy sigh through my nose, I asked, “What is it this time?”
She rested her fist beneath her chin. “There’s been an avalanche.”
My breath lodged in my throat. I’d taken things too far last night—the glacier shifting, walls melting as I feverishly channeled my Source, throwing all my energy into destroying the demon even if that had meant destroying the castle.
Destroying myself.
I thought I’d stopped myself in time. “What happened?”
“Those mountains along the west side of ískastali.” She tsked, flicking her fingers in their direction. “Very unstable.”
“So… it wasn’t the glacier?” I gulped.
She shook her head no.
All the air whooshed out of me in one relieved exhale. The next heartbeat, I was out of the bed and running towards the armoire. “Is everyone okay?”
“We lost a few honored members of the kitchen staff.” Squeezing her lips tight, Hildur dabbed the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief.
Emotion crept into her voice. “The Eyes have been able to dig out most of the survivors and get them to the infirmary, but we need the debris cleared before we can begin repairs.”
“On it.” Grabbing a fresh pair of clothes and my dagger, I headed to the bathroom for a quick refresh, not missing the way she scowled at my bloody thigh.
Pain blasted through me as I slowly peeled off my pants, the fabric sticking to the yellow crust around the gash. It needed to be cleaned, but the best I could do was a quick dunk and rinse in an already pulled—and very cold—bath. Helga deserved a huge tip when I finally left.
I ran the soap over my skin, cringing at the bruising. In a weird way, it reminded me of the castle. On the outside, everything seemed mostly fine. But underneath?
The Galdur should have been impenetrable, regardless of what spurred the avalanche.
How long had this kingdom been pretending to be strong when it was actually wasting away?
And how far gone was it? How long before the magic totally failed, the elevators dropped, the entire glacier melted, the prisoners escaped?
Dangerous thoughts—and I knew better to state them. I’d tuck this away for later.
If innocent people were in trouble, it didn’t matter what caused the avalanche; I’d do whatever I could to fix it.
I snagged my towel off its hook, dripping water as I went.
Careful not to rub the wound, I pulled on some leggings and a comfy sweatshirt, loosing a breath when the fabric brushed against my tailbone, and I had to pull up my tender arms to tie my hair into a braid.
Hildur waited in the living area, the fire hissing in the hearth, casting her shadow across the floral walls.
It was hard to imagine the Queen of the Huldufólk—sparkling crown, stacks of silver on her wrists, bejeweled gown trailing behind—descending the ladder to the deepest, darkest part of the castle to seek the help of a demon who murdered her own kind.
Yet why else was the Coffin Seeker there? I wondered if he was really serving out a punishment or if she collected demons as if they were rare coins.
Last night hung over me like a dark cloud, but I pushed through it, tugging on my boots. Bitter quiet followed us as we left the room and strode down the hall.
Only when we reached the elevator and began the drop down the transparent chute did she broach the silence. “I need you to create a barrier between the mountain and the castle.”
“Don’t you already have something like that?” I blinked, recalling the one I passed through when I first entered the grounds. The frozen moat, the ice giants, the drawbridge. “Fortress-style?”
“Yes, but it is old, and the avalanche happened to hit a weak spot.” She stared ahead.
Another coincidence. Another twist of unease in my gut.
“So… what exactly are you asking me to do? Make an indestructible wall of ice that will protect your kingdom forever?”
The car slowed to a stop, the doors sliding open. “Temporary is fine.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Wincing, I hustled to match her long-legged strides. It felt as if I’d fallen down all seven flights in that dungeon and hit every step along the way.
“You must.” She turned down a narrow staircase, her feet swift and light.
“I…” Can’t, I started to say, but I let it drop. It was no use. It’d mean nothing to her. She didn’t even have the courtesy to try and convince me, like how she’d dangled the threat of war to force me to unfreeze the moat. The options were clear: do it or get out.
As long as I needed something from her, she could ask me for anything in return.
She disappeared around a corner, her long hair whipping behind her like rose gold ribbons.
Inhaling an icy breath, I followed, the passage growing tighter, windier, the tips of my fingers skimming the wall all the way down for extra support.
My knees buckled when I reached the final step, the stairwell opening into a wide hall.
Elves scurried past me, carrying whatever they could fit in their hands: vegetables, fruits, ale, each other. I hopped over a broken oak barrel, sliding on the mushy remains of what looked to be potatoes. Fallen crates of food littered the floor along with bits of blood and snow.
Stepping over the crumbled remnants of what clearly used to be a wall, I followed Hildur out onto the grounds, the thick layer of powder crunching beneath my soles.
A group of elves gathered at the foot of the avalanche, their colorful robes a stark contrast to the harsh, white, world.
“Your Highness.” An elf ran over, clipboard angled against his gut: Kristjan, the same elf who’d been taking notes at the river the day before.
The queen pulled off her leather gloves. Without a moment’s hesitation, he took them and guided her to the rest of her court. I struggled to catch up, warmth coating the side of my leg—my cut was open and bleeding. Damnit.
Mounds of rock idly tumbled down the mountainside, crashing into the ground.
“What’s the plan?” I heard someone ask as I awkwardly hung on the outskirts of the assembled crowd.
I brought my hand to my brows, a shield against the intense glare.
“Gods, it’s even worse than I’d imagined.” The queen shook off her mantle, passing it to the air, knowing, expecting, someone to grab it. They did.
A flash of gray rushed by me. Tongue out, barking. Then another. Pink nose, furry ears, blue eyes. The royal huskies. They wove between the helpers, their curled tails shaking, paws digging into the compact snow.
“The dogs are searching for bodies. Whenever they alert, the Eyes are then pulling them out.” Kristjan glanced at his notes. “The kitchen staff is gathering what’s left of the stockpile, but understandably, they’re a bit shaken up.”
“No doubt,” Hildur mused.
“We started at the base of the mountain, where the snowpack was deepest and deadliest, and are making our way out.”
“That area is clear then.” It was never a question with the queen—because if it wasn’t done yet, it certainly would be after her statement. “Just in time for River to fix the barricade.”
With a curl of her fingers, not even granting me the dignity of turning her head, she ushered me forward. Like I were a puppet—and I had no choice but to follow her summons.
“Very well.” She ushered Kristjan aside. “Show us the worst of it.”
Cutting across the ruined grounds, we carved a path along the perimeter of dirt and snow. The hollers of the volunteers grew softer the farther we ventured along the runout zone. But the whispers, those were as loud as ever.
The advisors slowed their pace, falling behind their queen.
“When are we going to address the matter of the Galdur?” one of them pressed. “That is the real issue here. Whenever we fix things, ten more issues pop up. Are we cursed?”
“A dark shadow has fallen over the realm,” another said. “Just like what happened right before the Cross-Realm War. Something is coming, even if the queen doesn’t want to admit it.”
“It’s the Nephilim,” a third spat. “Things got worse when she arrived. I swear it.”
My heart twisted.
Kristjan halted at the edge of the rampart, a huge chunk of it lost to the ice. “It’s best to stay here in case there are any other disturbances on the mountain, and there are sharp things beneath the surface.”
“Yes, great point, Kristjan.” Hildur turned, addressing the rest of us. “If the angel needs to cross over, that is fine, but we will stay here, where it is safe.”
Hot air blew out of my nostrils. Cheeks flaming, I tested part of the snowy mound with my foot. It shot right through it, at least six inches deep.
Shredded rubber—a wheel—poked out of the debris. And a glistening sheet of metal. I tilted my head. “Is that…”
“A truck,” Kristjan confirmed. “The service road runs, erm…ran, parallel to here.”
Whoa. He wasn’t kidding.