Chapter 2
2
The Dwarf King’s prison, Svartálfheimr
Shalendra Elasalor leaned against the rock wall of her cell, knowing her companion and friend, Castien Bloodminer, was leaning in the same spot on his side. His bloodstone Ashia and she had just returned from the dwarf king’s throne room with a troubling revelation, and she had no idea what to do about it.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Shalendra whispered.
“I should say so—in so over our heads, we’re drowning and don’t know it yet.” Castien chuckled.
“Remind me not to come to you for pep talks because you suck at it.”
“What does that mean…suck?”
She smiled. “It’s a human slang term I picked up on one of my trips to America with Freyja. My father would be furious if he knew she had taken me so far from home. We live in a rural area of France, so going to America was like a dream come true. I had read so much about it and even saw snippets of history through Freyja’s God’s Glass.”
She finger-brushed her black strands, which were lifeless and dirty, before letting them fall onto her chest. “Nothing prepared me for the amazing places America has, though. Standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon was exhilarating. I would have loved to be a bird. To follow the meandering river along the canyon floor as the steep walls narrowed this way and that. And the colors… Such shades of green from the many plants mixed in with the tawny sand and the rich burnt orange hues of the high stone walls were beyond gorgeous.”
“That does sound nice. I’ve never left Svartálfheimr.”
“That’s just sad.” She lifted her arm and sniffed her sleeve. “I desperately need a shower. I stink.”
Castien’s low chuckle filled the stillness around her. “You are just as beautiful as the first day you arrived. There isn’t a speck of dirt near you, and you still smell like fresh-cut flowers.”
“Wait a minute. You think I’m beautiful?”
“I would be blind not to.”
She frowned. “But you’re gay—you aren’t supposed to look at women.”
“Just because I prefer men doesn’t mean I can’t notice a beautiful woman. And you, my sweet friend, are gorgeous.” A soft grunt sounded behind her, and he mumbled a few words in a strange language, then exhaled. “Ashia wanted me to tell you that she thinks you’re beautiful, too, and was quite upset about being left out of the conversation.”
Shalendra frowned. “How am I supposed to talk to her if I’m not holding her?”
“Hmmm, maybe you are getting sick or coming down with some kind of forgetfulness. I guess you don’t remember her telling you I didn’t have to share my ability to talk with her because she already connected with you… Sorry.” He mumbled something, his voice softer as he talked to Ashia. “Yes, I will correct what I said.”
He exhaled. “Ashia wants me to make sure you understand that you connected with her and now have a permanent connection. Just open your mind. It doesn’t work over long distances, though. She must be close to you for it to work.”
She closed her eyes and tried to do as he said, but darkness was the only thing filling her mind. “I’m not seeing anything. My mind is as dark as this cell.”
“Use your imagination and picture a door. Turn the handle and open it.”
Scooting to one side, she stared at the small hole in the wall between their cells and caught the soft blue glow from the bloodstone seeping through. “Seriously? A door?”
Castien exhaled. “Yes, Shalendra. A door. Imagine the door opening and a serene meadow or your bedroom back home on the other side. Wherever you feel the most comfortable.”
She scooted around and leaned back against the cold stone, ignoring the rough rock facing as it dug into her slender backside. Closing her eyes again, she did as Castien instructed and pictured the front door to her home back in France. She loved everything about the small castle. After émilien took her from Helheimr, it had been her haven.
She remembered only bits and pieces of that time, but what she did remember wasn’t pleasant. Sickness had plagued her. No matter what her mother tried, nothing worked. She stayed in bed most days, curled up as high fevers stole what little strength remained. Breathing hurt, and movement had been unbearable. émilien had once told her they believed the death realm’s magic had somehow affected her, but even her mother’s incredible magic had not helped.
One of her last memories was hearing voices, a man and woman, arguing. Angry words were thrown back and forth. She heard her mother yell at her father one final time—telling him to go and take Shalendra with him. The voices faded and time passed. The familiar scent of her father’s leather jacket comforted her as he held her.
She pictured her hand reaching for the tarnished brass doorknob and letting the front door swing open. A brilliant blue glow filled the library. Making her way across the entryway, she stepped inside the room.
Standing just in front of her favorite reading chair was the most ethereal woman she had ever seen. Long, raven-black hair framed her slender face and was the perfect complement to her elegant topaz-blue gown, which matched her eyes. She reminded her of the medieval-style dresses the goddesses Freyja and Idunn wore. What surprised her, though, were the gossamer wings flittering behind the woman.
Smiling, Shalendra stepped forward. “You must be Ashia. You are gorgeous—and wings! You have wings. Didn’t expect that.”
Ashia smiled and tilted her head to one side as if she were of royal blood. “Thank you. Since my other form is a rock, I’m guessing you expected someone more troll-like in breeches?”
Shalendra’s lips twitched as she tried to hide her laughter but failed as a tiny giggle escaped. “Well, if you must know, yes. You would make a perfect Elven queen. Maybe I should introduce you to Lamruil Vakas. He’s the gorgeous co-regent of the Elven Kingdom and in need of a wife.”
“Although I do appreciate male beauty, I’m afraid this form is the only way you and all races but my own will ever see me. And speaking of the male form, Castien is a fine specimen, isn’t he?”
Shalendra grinned. “Yes, he is handsome.” She moved to her father's chair near the fireplace and sat. “So, to include you in our conversations, I’m supposed to imagine you? How do we include Castien?”
“You and I can converse here, as we are now, but for all three of us to hear one another and respond, all you need to do is think of me, picture me in this form, and I will do the rest.”
Shalendra frowned. “Which is?”
“The three of us will link together through my magic.”
She thought a moment, then nodded. “All right. It doesn’t sound painful, so I’ll go along.” She glanced around the spacious room, wishing she was there and not stuck in a filthy dwarf prison. “How do we return to my cell?”
“You never left, my dear. This is but your imagination—a mere dream, if you will. Close your eyes, still picturing me, and then open them.”
Shalendra closed her eyes, still seeing the beautiful woman, then, before losing her nerve, forced her eyes to open. A wave of depression moved through her, her shoulders curving in a more pronounced slump. She was back in her cell, but the dark space was bathed in the bloodstone’s ethereal blue light this time. “An improvement, but I still wish I was back home curled up in my comfortable chair and reading my favorite book.”
“I know what you mean,” Castien agreed. “The first time I saw Ashia, I was in a worse position than this.”
Shalendra’s brows rose. “There’s something worse than prison?”
“Believe me, you don’t want to know. Now, what do you both want to discuss?”
“Leaving,” Shalendra said.
“Breaking out,” Ashia said.
Shalendra chuckled. “I like her topic better. It’s more forceful and makes a definite statement. I don’t like the demon interloper.”
“The who?” Castien asked.
“The king. When I was summoned to his throne room, Ashia said he wasn’t the real dwarf king but an imposter. A demon, actually.”
“Well, that’s not good,” Castien muttered. “No wonder everything in this realm has gone haywire. Before I was arrested, normal dwarves who ran their businesses as they had done for centuries were being forced into more manual labor by order of the king. One day, the village had a baker, weapons maker, and low-level healer. The next, the businesses were boarded up, if not gone altogether. It was as if someone had come during the night and erased the buildings from existence. I later heard that the owners had been taken to the mines to search for certain stones of power that hadn’t been seen in over a thousand years.”
Shalendra pursed her lips in thought. “One of those stones wouldn’t be a bloodstone, would it?”
Castien sighed. “It would. I tried to tell our local magistrate, but he wouldn’t listen and, instead, arrested me. He’s been out to get me since his son had a crush on me.”
“Well, that’s just stupid. His son is gay and he blames you? Why?”
“He said I influenced him, even accused me of putting a spell on him. While a spell isn’t out of the realm of possibilities, it’s devilishly hard to sway a person’s heart away from its true love type and even more so if it’s the opposite sex.”
She extended her legs from their crisscrossed position, groaning as her cramped muscles relaxed. Twisting her torso from side to side, she popped her back and stood, using the wall as a brace to hold herself up after sitting too long in one position. “We need to devise a plan to get out of here. Now that we know the truth about the king, we should try to get a message to the co-regents, Lamruil and his twin brother, Ailuin. They will know what to do.”
“And how do you propose to break out of a prison meant to hold people until death? We are magically sealed inside, the wards gifted to the dwarf king by a sorcerer who practices the ancient black arts.”
Shalendra made a gurgling sound in her throat. “I, too, know a few influential people, and this sorcerer wouldn’t stand a chance against any of them.”
“And who are these people you claim to know?”
“She knows many in the Norse pantheon, Castien.” Ashia stepped closer, raising Shalendra’s chin with her long, elegant finger. “A number of them have blessed you, haven’t they? I see Freyja’s and Idunn’s handiwork and another’s… A darker weave blended with a wildness—a light, if you will. It reminds me of someone I met centuries ago. He, too, was trapped underground and cried out for those he loved and all that he had lost.”
Shalendra smiled. “You are, indeed, powerful to have seen all that. Freyja and Idunn helped raise me. Recently, I was told the man I knew as my brother was, in fact, my father. His name is émilien Elasalor.”
Her elegant black brows rose, reminding Shalendra of crows’ wings as they took flight. “Yes, that was his name. He was broken, having just escaped the Fae who cursed him to remain in the form of half man, half wolf. Your father has an inner strength that is rarely seen among men.”
“Maybe because he is not human, but Elven. He was the Black King’s co-financier with his brother, Olivier. Later, King Glanduil discovered my father had an amazing ability at battle strategy, so he became the royal strategist, and his brother took over the financial stuff.”
“Wasn’t there a war between the Elven kind?” Ashia sat on the floor in front of her. Such an elegant lady sitting on the rocky floor of a prison. So strange.
Shalendra nodded. “It was before I was born. None of the Elfkind got along. Each faction, Light, Dark, and Black, could not accept that they weren’t the perfect version of our people. After thousands of years of strife and unrest, it reached an impasse, and the Great Elven War began. It destroyed everything and almost everyone. There are few from any group remaining. The co-regents and, I think, two or three others are the last of the black elves living in Alfheimr. After the war, the prisoners banded together and left, mostly black and dark elves, settling in Svartálfheimr.”
“Such a sad tale for something that didn’t have to be,” Ashia whispered. “There may be something I can do, but I cannot promise it will work.”
“Ashia, can you please make the hole between our cells larger?” Castien asked. “Not seeing the two of you is driving me crazy over here. The guards never enter the cells, so they will never know.”
“What makes you think I have that power?” Ashia gave Shalendra a quick wink and smile.
“You are not funny. One, you are part of nature, and two, I have seen you do more than create a larger hole. Please .”
The bloodstone’s tinkling laugh filled Shalendra’s dismal cell with promise and joy. Two emotions she hadn’t felt since being captured. “Fine.” Ashia reached over and, using her fingertip, traced the hole’s border. The hole widened by a few inches. “Is that enough?”
“Hardly. I want to be able to stick my whole head through if I need to.” His tone turned wistful.
“Why would you need to do something like that? Ashia asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered with exasperation. “Just make it larger. I feel like the walls are closing in around me over here!”
“They are doing no such thing. I would know if they were, so stop panicking. You are just fine.” She traced the hole once more, this time using her entire hand. The hole grew, widening until it was as tall as she was. “There. Now, the two of you can share the space if she wants you to.”
Shalendra chuckled. “You two sound like siblings.” She sobered and leaned forward, squeezing Ashia’s hand. “Thank you for such a wonderful gift. It is difficult for elves to be trapped in small spaces or imprisoned. Our nature is to be out in the open, the sun warming our skin and the gentle breeze caressing our hair.”
Ashia squeezed back, then returned Shalendra’s hand to her lap. “I understand that feeling of wanting to be unrestrained. Free. Most do not understand stones, but we have much the same lives. We just live in the ground. You have seen veins of elements such as gold and copper? Those are just two of many types of stones flowing through quartz rivers.”
“Bloodstones also flow through quartz.” Castien ducked through the hole in the wall and sat between them. “Well, they used to. Like I told you, Ashia is one of the last of her kind.”
“Sadly, that is true. There are a few of us still, and I miss swimming through the quartz lakes with friends and family. As our movements are so fast, most beings cannot see us. They only see the veins of gemstones and metals, but infinite numbers of stones are swimming through them. What stones are seen change faster than a blink of an eye. I miss swimming with such abandonment. I miss those I love.”
Ashia’s expression turned so sad that Shalendra’s heart ached for her new friend. “When we get out of here, and after I locate my aunt and uncle, we will all go swimming. While I know it isn’t the same, there is a place in the Shadow Lands where rivers of rich mud flow. It will be like what Freyja calls a spa date.”
Ashia reached over and cupped Shalendra’s cheek with her hand, a smile replacing the sadness. “You are, indeed, a treasure. Thank you, my friend. No one has ever offered to do that with me, and I will be honored to swim with you. A river of mud would be close to what stones experience as they flow through the ground.”
“Hey, how come you never told me that? I would have swum with you too.”
She patted the dwarf’s leg. “Yes, I know, but we haven’t had the opportunity for that, have we? You were arrested not long after you found me, so there hasn’t been a chance. Now,” she glanced at Shalendra with a thoughtful expression. “Why are you here? In the land of the dwarves?”
She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Freyja came to my home in France—what most of us call Midgard—and updated my parents on what she had discovered about my father’s brother and his wife, who disappeared from France just before the Second World War broke out.”
“What war?” Castien asked.
“It was a global war on Midgard, caused by one man’s evil desire to rule the entire planet and create a special race of perfect people, at least in his demented mind. My father believes his brother and sister-in-law were involved in a spy ring for the Allies, who were the good guys. Their son, Bernard, my cousin, was told by his caretakers that they never came home after a New Year’s Eve party just before the start of the war. He said they were always dressing up in costumes, which gives émilien’s—my father's—assumption credence.”
“I love dressing up,” Castien smiled. “Costume parties were popular when I was younger. My cousins and I used to dress up as creatures living in the Shadow Lands.” He leaned forward, mimicking her pose. “So, knowing a little bit about the Norse goddess, what did Freyja want you to do?”
“She wanted my parents to figure out what was happening to the Underworlds. Evidently, the dead are disappearing from several pantheons. I know my mother’s realm has been affected the most, but the last I heard, the Greek, Egyptian, and Celtic realms have had disappearances too. My mission with my best friend, Soliana, was to find clues as to what happened to my aunt and uncle.”
“What are their names?” Ashia's winged eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful frown.
“Olivier and Jessica Elasalor.” All the color drained from Ashia’s face. “Ashia,” Shalendra leaned toward the woman. She clasped her hand around Ashia’s. “What is it? Did you recognize their names?”
Ashia nodded. “I refuse to tell you a falsehood, so until I know more, I will keep silent. Just know they are not dead. Now, do you have an idea for this escape?”
Shalendra shrugged. “Not really, but I just know something will happen that will give me a sign—.” A sudden crash shook the cell, and small pebbles from the ceiling broke off, falling on them. Loud thumping sounded above them, and down at the other end of their long hall, they heard the guards hollering in the dwarvish tongue.
“What are they saying, Castien?” Shalendra asked.
“They want to know what’s going on—who’s attacking the prison.” His gaze darted toward the hall as another guard hollered before the heavy clanging of the metal doors slamming shut drowned him out. “The second guard asked if it was a prison riot. Closing the door isn’t a positive sign, though. It’s the only way we can get out of here. There is no other entrance on or off this level, and several levels exist between us and the outside. If someone is attacking the prison, we should be okay, but if it’s the other way around and the prisoners are rioting, they won’t care who gets in their way.”
“That may be.” Shalendra rested her elbows on the sides of her knees. “But we can use this. This is the sign I needed. We can hide among the attackers or the rioters and leave when they do.”
“What if they don’t leave?” Ashia asked. “It’s a dangerous plan either way.”
“I know it is,” Shalendra agreed. “But it’s all we’ve got.