Chapter 3
HEL
W ith magic dragging Synick along behind him, Hel trudged ahead.
His memory of this land wasn’t as sharp as he thought it would be.
The vast open grassy fields with sparse trees and black rocky cliffs jutting out in various places were familiar, but he hadn’t the faintest idea where Valeen’s old castle was located from here.
It could be in any direction. He glanced up at the stars, even they were different from Adalon, the constellations forming in unique shapes.
The brightest stars in the sky stood North and the other South, the southernmost star being red.
He stopped and pulled out a civar, the end already lit and bright in the low evening light and brought it to his lips.
Where was the damned castle from here? He flicked through his memory for the stars she’d built it beneath.
The ones they’d danced and made love under many times.
He thought of the time they laid on the balcony that hung off their room, he could see her pointing up and turning to smile at him.
He remembered how beautiful she looked, how carefree and light compared to what she was now, while she explained why she built her castle in that specific place…
they weren’t even married yet and all he could think about was his burning desire to kiss her, to touch her, but was it something to do with horses?
He quietly swore as the specifics eluded him and let out a cloud of smoke.
It had been so long ago. Some events of that time were branded into his mind, a scar he could never escape, and others were lost as if the wind carried them away and stored them somewhere else.
It was there though, on the tip of his tongue.
Leif, Piper, and Varlett in her dragon form, were taking care of the undead.
Varlett carried the two elves in her dragon form to the sea to drop the creatures of the underrealm into a watery grave.
The brine of it was faint in the air so he knew it wasn’t far.
Varlett might remember, but he couldn’t even stomach looking at her let alone ask for her help.
There was nothing more he wanted to do than shove his hand into Varlett’s chest and rip her heart out.
But breaking the link between her and Valeen would be tricky.
If he used rune magic to combat Varlett’s spell, there would be other consequences; she would have taken precautions.
The bitch was clever and had learned much of what she knew from him.
Hel paused and pressed his boot on the back of Synick’s head, driving his face into the grass. His former mentor mumbled and bucked, drawing a smile out of Hel. It was only a small payback for the years of torture Hel had endured at his hand, and for what he’d done to his wife and her sister.
Asking Valeen the constellation she’d build her castle directly under was an option, obviously, but he wanted to find it before she did.
She held out hope that everything would be as it once was, that her castle would stand strong, that it would have been memorialized and made into a temple they’d keep excellent care of.
He didn’t share her sentiments, even if he kept it to himself.
Two thousand years was a long time, and she might have been too caught up in the chaos of Katana and Synick’s return to notice, but one of the three moons was cracked, pieces of it floated apart from the silver orb.
Her magical wall that kept her territory, House of Night, protected from the rest of Runevale’s territories was connected to the strength of those moons.
He took another deep inhale off his civar, sending a sense of calm through his body, even if it only lasted moments, it aided in keeping his treacherous thoughts at bay.
Given the state of the moon Fennor, Valeen’s wall had likely fallen, and he hesitated to even imagine what that meant, what this place had become in their absence.
Fuck . The council would have done horrible things to Villhara and her people to show everyone what happened to those who stood against them.
A rustle in the grass behind him pulled his attention. Hel finally lifted his boot off Synick’s head and turned. The magic in his veins flared ready to seek and kill.
A dull red hat poked out first, then the little gnome named Tifapine parted the tall grass, an inch or two over her head, and stepped up beside him.
She adjusted her hat, brushed her stubby hands over her dirty floral-print dress and lifted her big brown eyes.
“Um, hello. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been following you. It’s scary out here.”
For some irrational reason he had the urge to squat down to her level, but he didn’t. “They’ve been looking for you.”
“I heard Leif and Piper calling for me, but those monsters were by them, and I am not cut out to be dealing with monsters. One of the arms, and I mean only the arm, tried to grab me. The fingers pulled it forward in the grass!” she wailed.
That was disturbing, even to him, and for a small gnome, he could only imagine. “If safety is your priority, I’m surprised you didn’t wait for Valeen to return before you came out of hiding.” He and the gnome weren’t well acquainted. If anything, she’d been scared of him in the past.
“Well,” she began and tapped her chin with a finger, “since you’re her, um, lover now, I suppose you’re safe.
There isn’t anyone scarier than you and you’re on our side now.
And you wouldn’t hurt someone as cute as me, you said so yourself.
Even if Thane said I should stay far away from you. He exaggerates sometimes.”
He smiled and took another pull from his civar. “I’m her husband and mate, more than a lover. And although your king is probably correct, I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask but since those creepy things appeared and you had to fight, it didn’t seem like the opportune time, but why are there three moons? And why is one of them broken, and one of them is red at the center, it almost looks like it’s bleeding.”
“There are three because that’s the way that it is.” He pointed at the one with the crimson center. “That’s Luna. They say that Soulender was forged from the heart of it and that’s why she bleeds.”
Her eyes widened and she clutched her hat on both sides, tugging on it. “Is that true?”
“Might be. Might just be an old tale. The broken one is Fennor… I don’t know why it’s broken. Perhaps a falling star impacted it.” Or the council got to it somehow. “The one with the rings is Nuna.”
“I don’t see any rings around any of them.”
Hel looked again and frowned. The once bright rings were so faint they were barely visible. The gnome probably didn’t have the eyesight to catch them. He roughly scrubbed at his chin cursing himself for not realizing it before. Another sign the protective wall had likely fallen.
“Where are you going?” Tifapine asked.
“Looking for Valeen’s castle.”
“Is it nearby?”
“I believe so. She built it”—the location suddenly came to him—“in the northwest under the constellation of the rearing winged horse Sargentos.”
After searching the glittering night sky full of moving colors of amethyst, turquoise, and bright green, he found Sargentos. If he went north about three miles, her castle should be there.
“Should we wait for the others, or can we go look? She was just telling me how beautiful it was last night, made of moonstone so it glowed in the dark and crescent moons and stars adorned the peaks and valleys of it. She said the path leading to the castle entrance was paved with shimmering black stones that reflected the stars above, and it sounds so beautiful. She said the air smelled like ever blooming wisteria and jasmine and her black lilies from her big gardens. I can’t wait to see it. ”
“If you can keep up, you can come.”
“My little legs don’t go very fast so I might fall behind, but I’ll find your trail through the grass,” she said, as chipper as ever.
He took one last pull from his civar then pressed his lips together. Why did it bother him to let the tiny creature lag behind? He stooped down and picked her up around her chubby middle and set her on his shoulder.
“Wo,” she said with a giggle. “I wasn’t expecting to get to ride on the master of darkness’s shoulder.”
“The master of what?”
“You have a dimple when you smile. It’s strange that it gives me tummy butterflies.
” She blushed furiously, twirling a curl around her finger.
“Oh, and I said the master of darkness. It’s what you are, isn’t it?
I like it better than the Black Mage, and I’m not sure if we’re on a first name basis quite yet. Unless you prefer I call you Hel.”
“I think I like the master of darkness.” He chuckled and dropped his civar onto Synick’s face and stepped on it with his boot, smashing it in.
“Ahh, that burns!”
“Does it? I never would have guessed.” He was tempted to end him now and be rid of the problem.
How much of a fight would it be with Valeen?
He licked his lower lip, would it be worth the argument?
Either way, at some point in the very near future, Synick was dead for touching Valeen.
The way he’d put his hands around her neck…
Hel stepped on Synick’s hand, smashing his fingers, and didn’t stop until he heard the bones pop.
Synick cried out once and slammed his jaw shut. Then with a snap of Hel’s fingers he floated off the ground a few inches and trailed behind him once more.
After a brisk walk Hel came upon a familiar black rocky ridge. The shiny boulders jutted up above the grass about ten feet, and in the valley below awaited the location of Castle Starcrest.
Quickening his pace, he stepped into a gap between the rocks. The wind picked up, whisking his black hair about, snapping his cloak behind him. Unease twisted his gut and Hel gulped. Tifapine gasped and put a hand over her mouth.
It was indeed Valeen’s castle—in ruins. The moonstone had crumbled in on itself with moss and other vegetation growing on top of it.
One section where the walls still stood was riddled with holes and weathered stone.
Vine-like weeds overtook much of it, and a great oak grew out of what he suspected was once her throne room.
Although there were many flowers blooming around it, one couldn’t say there was a flower garden as there once was.
Grass, weeds, and a few birch and aspen trees grew in between the blooms as the wilds took over.
It was in worse shape than the manor in Ryvengaard they’d stayed at for months while he trained Valeen, where she slowly began to remember her past. This wasn’t livable, and certainly not a place fit for his queen. It would be hazardous to even step inside the portion where the walls stood.
A small ache in his chest made him shift uncomfortably.
This was where he married Valeen, made love to her, gave her his everything, and it was gone, taken by the enemy, and the cruelty of time, time that was stolen from them.
He told her he’d return her to her throne, and it didn’t appear that he could keep that promise now.
But he would make the people responsible for this bow to her and build her a new throne made of their fucking bones.
“Is that supposed to be the castle?” Tif whimpered.
“Yeah,” Hel murmured.
“She’s going to be devastated.”
Where are you? Valeen’s voice entered his mind.
He felt like he could finally breathe fully again.
If it had been anyone other than Katana, he wasn’t sure he would have let her go after them even with Presco to have her back.
This place was much more dangerous than Palenor.
Immortals lived here. He clenched his hands into fists.
I found your castle. I’m looking at it now, he replied.
Oh, good. We’ll head your way then. He could hear the smile in her voice and
debated on warning her but didn’t.
Nothing would prepare her for this.
“Hold on.” He reached up and grasped the gnome’s little legs and stepped off the cliff with a twenty foot or so drop. Wind whipped by as they plummeted. Tif let out a squeal, and then he hit the soft grass, landing in a crouch.
A moment later a loud thump hit beside him, and Synick groaned. “Fucking, prick,” he wheezed. “You could have softened my landing.”
“Why would I do that?” Hel mused.
“That was crazy!” Tif squealed. “You just jumped off a cliff that would have certainly shattered and broken my legs and, let’s be honest, in all likelihood I’d be dead. I’d probably look more like a pancake than a nice round roll.”
“Silence.”
“Sorry,” she whispered.
With an inhale through the nose, he picked up the pungent scent of piss and shit. He stood and walked toward the old ruins then froze with his foot midair above a fresh pile of dung. A large animal was near here and likely more than one.
A fresh plume of smoke drifted out of the top of the standing portion of the ruins. “I wonder what’s in there.”
“Whoever they are, they probably won’t be breathing much longer.” Tif shook her fist at the ruins.
He smirked. “No, they probably won’t.”