Chapter 24 Back from the Dead
Back from the Dead
Ember spun around, her eyes meeting Collum’s, and she quickly put herself between Theo and the towering Warden.
He made to move closer to her, and Ember instinctually threw the first hex she could think of at him.
Her stomach flipped as he deflected it with ease, but she persisted.
Annoyance flashed across his face as he winced, blood trickling down his cheek as the next spell grazed his skin.
“What on earth?” Aoife asked, as she walked into the room, coat on and suitcase in hand. “Ember, that is not how we greet our guests.”
“Guest?” Ember huffed, still standing firmly in front of Theo. “You know him?”
“I do.” Aoife nodded. “We are leaving Sigurvik, and Collum has come to escort us to our new home.”
“New home?” Ember asked, choking on the words. “Mum, what are you talking about?”
“She’ll explain later,” Collum hissed, grabbing Ember’s arms while she wasn’t looking. She bit her tongue as his dirt-covered nails dug into her skin, but she stood firmly in front of Theo.
“Gaelen has gone ahead of us to prepare your rooms,” Aoife continued, either oblivious to or ignoring completely the pain on Ember’s face. “All of your things are waiting for you there.”
“And Maia?” Ember asked. “Is Maia there already?”
Aoife shook her head as she adjusted her coat. “I’m afraid we can’t bring Maia, but Maize will be finding a lovely home for her,” Aoife replied, like she was talking about the weather or an old friend she hadn’t seen in years.
Ember suddenly felt lightheaded, swaying on her feet as Collum’s grip tightened. “I have to say goodbye to my friends,” Ember replied hoarsely. “I have to talk to Killian and Fen. I can’t leave yet.”
“There’s no time, I’m afraid,” Aoife placated, patting her daughter on the cheek. “We’re on a tight schedule and already running behind. I’ll have someone send word to Eira soon.” She kissed Ember on the top of the head as she smiled. “Everything will be fine, my love.”
“Time to go.” Collum grinned as he grabbed hold of Theo, and suddenly, she was spinning through mist and starlight.
It was almost like traveling by Echopoint, but somehow more fluid, like she was slipping through water, unable to fully catch her breath.
The air around her seemed to press into her from all sides, weighing her down like tar.
She landed with a thud in the grass, slipping out of Collum’s grasp and landing on her back.
She shook her head as she pushed herself up on her hands.
She was in a grassy plot, right in front of a large gate that led into the garden of a giant chateau.
Ember felt her chest tighten as Collum hauled her off the ground, dragging her through the gate and toward the large double doors.
The gate slammed behind them as they walked, and Ember couldn’t help but feel like she was being led to a special sort of prison.
The air around her was cold and uninviting as they walked through the oak doors and into the foyer, like all of the magic had been sucked out of it.
“Let go of me,” she hissed, as she yanked her arm out of Collum’s sweaty hands. She moved in front of Theo again, creating a physical barrier between her brother and the man. Aoife had already walked through the foyer and into another room, and Ember grabbed Theo and made to follow her.
“You will stay here,” Collum grunted, as he stepped in front of her.
Ember felt her temper rise, the invisible string at her sternum vibrating as her breathing began to quicken. She instinctively threw a hex at him, trying again to make her way past him, but this time, he didn’t just block it.
He shot one back.
She gasped as it hit her in the face, throwing her back against a wall. Blood trickled down her cheek, a deep gash now running underneath her eye. Her bottom lip trembled as she sucked in a breath, willing tears not to fall as she stared at Collum.
“You will stay here,” he hissed again.
Theo grabbed her hand and gave it a small, gentle squeeze, reminding her so much of Fen in that moment.
Together.
He didn’t need to say it, or even sign it. She wasn’t doing this alone, and somehow, that realization made her breathing slow, her heart rate steadying. Aoife walked into the room again, Gaelen now following behind her, head bowed.
“What on earth,” Aoife gasped, as she walked toward them, heels clicking on the tile. “Ember, you’re bleeding.”
“Just a small mishap.” Collum smiled, clearing his throat. “Everything is under control.” The way he grinned made Ember’s stomach sour, bile rising in her throat. He preened under the weight of Aoife’s gaze, and Ember was certain she was going to be sick.
Whether that was the corrupt Warden or a possible concussion, she was unsure.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Gaelen motioned gently, guiding Ember toward what she assumed was the kitchen to clean the blood off her face.
“Nonsense, Gaelen,” Aoife said, as she shooed her away. “Let me do it.”
Ember’s anxiety lessened as Aoife led her into the kitchen, motioning for her to sit on a stool at the bar.
Ember furrowed her brow as she watched her rummage through the cabinets, like she had lived there her entire life.
She pulled out a piece of gauze from a small box in the cabinet and walked back over to Ember.
“Collum has a bit of a temper on him.” She smiled. “It seems you found yourself on the wrong end of it.”
“Is there a right end of his temper?” Ember asked, wincing as Aoife dabbed at the cut.
“The one that doesn’t land you with a nasty cut on your face,” Aoife replied, brow raised. “I don’t think it will scar.”
“Isn’t there a spell for this,” Ember winced, “or a tonic or something? Gaelen can heal me like she did at the Rukr game.”
Aoife shook her head as she stepped back. “Sometimes we have to learn lessons the hard way.” She smiled gently.
Ember furrowed her brow. Lesson? He had attacked her when she was just trying to find her mum.
He had damn near kidnapped her. What was she supposed to do?
Ember nodded, biting her tongue as she hopped off the barstool.
“Mum, what are we doing?” Ember asked. “Why are we here? You’re scaring me.
” She bit her lip as she willed her pulse to slow, but she couldn’t seem to get a hold on the anxiety building in her chest.
Aoife let out a sigh as she nodded. “I know you are, Mo Stór,” she replied. “I’m sorry for the abruptness of it all, but I promise I will explain it all in time.” She kissed Ember on top of the head and smiled. “Don’t be afraid, this change will be good for our family.”
Ember closed her eyes as she felt her heart break.
She was so, so tired of change. Maeve was still missing, and there was nothing she could do to help Eira and Otto.
Her heart clenched as she thought about the boys and her friends.
Did they even realize she was gone yet? What would they do when they found out she was missing?
Would they try to find her? Panic began to rise in her chest. She wasn’t even sure if she was still on the island, or in Ireland at all.
She could be anywhere in the world. Her panic began to morph into anger as she thought about Collum and the friendship her mother seemed to have with the man.
Alarm bells began sounding in her head—this was anything but good.
“Now this way,” Aoife continued. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Ember’s chest tightened as they walked back into the foyer—she was not keen on meeting anyone else today, thank you very much.
As if on cue, the front door swung open, a tall man walking in like he owned the place as she braced herself.
His black coat hung almost to his ankles, flowing like a cloak as the door swung shut behind him.
He stroked his white beard, adjusting the tie hanging around his neck.
He smiled, pearly white teeth and an aristocratic jaw that almost reminded her of Killian, and gave Ember and Theo a nod that was both grace and a warning all in one.
“Mo Chroí.” He smiled, wrapping Aoife in a hug, and kissing her on the head.
Ember furrowed brow. Mo Chroí?
“Ember, Theo,” Aoife said, as she returned the man’s hug with a smile, “this is Jarl Ulrik Helvig.”
“Jarl?” Ember asked, taking a smaller step in front of the strange man. “You mean like a king?”
“Yes, like a king, you brat,” Collum hissed from beside her. “Show some respect.”
Ember bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him, feeling the gash on her cheek tingle as she did.
“Easy, Collum, the girl doesn’t know any better,” Helvig placated the young man seething beside her. “More like a chief.” He laughed gruffly, turning to Ember. “You’ll find we follow the Old Ways here.”
“Where exactly is here?” she all but demanded. She wasn’t some child who could just be yanked about wherever they pleased, not anymore. She would be treated with respect.
“Oh, I apologize. I suppose you don’t have your bearings yet,” Helvig said with a smile that made Ember’s stomach turn. “Welcome to Tórsvik.”
Ember’s head spun as she tried to think about the maps of Ellesmere she had studied. Were they even still on Ellesmere? In Ireland? Surely, her mother hadn’t up and moved them to another country entirely.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jarl Helvig,” Ember said as politely as possible while giving one of the worst curtseys known to man.
“No need for the formalities,” he laughed gruffly. “Some call me Father, but you can call me Granda’.”
At this point, Ember was certain she was going to pass out.
“Granda’?” she repeated, squeezing Theo’s hand tightly in hers.
“Aye,” Aoife nodded with a smile, “Ulrik is your grandfather.”
Ember’s head spun as she thought back to her first year at Heksheim, to her conversation with Professor Bjorn.
“Helvig was the family name of the original children of Odin”—he cleared his throat—“allegedly.”
Ember sucked in a quiet breath and silently slid forward in her seat, hanging on to every word he said.
“The Helvigs were a powerful family,” he continued.
“Very powerful. They controlled most of the lives of the First Families. Some say Odin himself told them about Ellesmere Island and gave them the coordinates to get here, along with the wards and repelling charms placed around the island to keep undesirables out.”
“If the Helvigs were the ones who decided to settle Ellesmere,” Fen asked, as he scrunched his face, “why didn’t they make it here with the rest of the families?”
“Now that is the question, isn’t it?” The professor smirked.
“Their values didn’t quite align with the rest of the families, even Freyr, who had some questionable beliefs.
They believed that the Vala were the only ones worthy of magic.
Clann Helvig believed that they were superior.
Their beliefs became dangerous. Some say their ship went down a few hundred miles off the coast and were lost at sea.
Others say they never even made it onto their ships. ”
“And what do you say?” Killian asked through narrowed eyes, lounging in his chair as he sipped his tea, as if this was normal, everyday conversation.
Professor Bjorn let out a gruff laugh and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his tweed vest. “There are stories that say the family successfully made it to the island, and instead of settling on the south end here with the rest of the families, they went to the north.”
“But that’s past the Dark Forest,” Fen whispered. “No one goes past the forest.”
“Aye,” Professor Bjorn nodded. “That would make it the perfect hiding place, wouldn’t it?”
“We’re o-on the north end of the island,” she stuttered, “aren’t we?”
Helvig smiled. “You catch on quick.” He adjusted the sleeve of his coat, picking off an invisible piece of lint.
Ember’s head continued to spin, puzzle pieces slowly falling into place.
Rowan had talked about a Father. Ember originally thought it was her father she was with, until she had run into Rowan’s mother in Sigurvik and learned that both her father and brother were dead. Could this be who she was talking about? And if that was the case, then that meant Rowan was…
The front door creaked open, quickly slamming shut, and the light pitter patter of footsteps sounded across the tile floor. Helvig turned around, a smile breaking out across his face.
“Ah, yes, perfect timing,” he said, as he greeted the guest. “Ember, I have a surprise for you.”
Ember’s heart thudded in her throat as she furrowed her brow. She didn’t enjoy surprises on a good day, but especially not like this.
“Ember,” he continued, “I think you’ll remember—"
Ember’s stomach leapt into her throat, her heart beating rapidly as their eyes met.
“Rowan?”