51. A Bargain
A Bargain
Larissa
Too late, Larissa saw the gun.
Darien’s mouth opened, his face lined with pain. Fear and confusion clouded his eyes as his sword fell from his grip, as his legs gave out from under him.
A red haze consumed Larissa’s vision, the same color as Darien’s blood. Righteous rage boiled inside of her, desperate for escape.
Calder’s finger inched toward the trigger to fire another shot.
Larissa drew on whatever galdr remained, dragging it up through her body, letting it scorch through her. She screamed in agony and flung out her hands, channeling every bit of power and directing it toward Calder.
No hesitation. No guilt. Only anger.
The wave of Larissa’s galdr smashed into Calder, snatching his body and hurling it toward the edge of the cliff.
He dug his hands and feet into the ground.
Larissa urged her galdr to grow, to flow through her like a tidal wave, slamming it against Calder’s desperate form again and again.
Shock and disbelief battled in his eyes.
Her vision still red, Larissa gritted her teeth as her galdr crashed over him.
Calder’s scream echoed against the precipice as his body plummeted through the air, ending abruptly and replaced by the vicious crashing of waves and the pounding of Larissa’s blood in her ears.
Her vision cleared at the sight of Darien swaying on his knees, his hands pressed against his chest. Larissa’s feet pounded across the ground; she collapsed next to him in time to catch his body as he fell into her arms.
“Dar, stay with me.” She leaned over him, her hands desperately trying to staunch the bleeding that oozed between her fingers. “You’re going to be okay.”
One of Darien’s bloodied hands cupped Larissa’s cheek. His breath came in short, shallow gasps. “I’m so sorry . . . about Halla.”
Sobs racked Larissa’s body, but she couldn’t allow herself to think, to feel, or it would destroy her.
Halla couldn’t be dead, she refused to believe it.
She would’ve known. She pressed harder on Darien’s chest, certain she had to be hurting him, but he hardly seemed to feel it.
“You’re going to be okay. Stay with me. You promised me, Darien! You promised you wouldn’t die!”
His lips turned up in a smile that didn’t hide the agony in his eyes.
He rubbed his thumb over the scar on her face.
“Lara, you need to know . . . our responsibilities to our people . . . they mean nothing if you’re not with me.
If I had to choose . . . between you and my kingdom .
. . I choose you . . . I’d always choose you. ”
“Then choose me.” Larissa choked on her words. “Stay with me. Don’t leave me.”
“I don’t want to.” His voice was hardly audible now. “A thousand . . .”
The sound of approaching footsteps came from the gardens, but Larissa couldn’t turn around.
It didn’t matter if it was the Vienám or the sentries or the Empress herself.
Darien’s face, his bloody chest, filled her vision.
There was no one else but him. She leaned in to hear his murmurs over the sound of the waves.
Darien’s lips brushed against her ear, his words like a prayer whispered to gods who refused to listen. “A thousand lifetimes with you would never have been enough, but I would have been grateful for at least this one.”
Tears flooded down her face, drops of them falling on his cheeks. “Darien—”
His eyes closed, and his hand slid from her face.
“Darien? Darien!” Hysterics tore at her throat, stripping it raw. “Stay with me! You promised!”
Larissa buried her face in Darien’s neck, his curls tickling her face, but all she could smell was blood. The footsteps of the approaching crowd grew louder.
“Help us! Help him !” she screamed. “Please—”
“Larissa! Darien!” Anara’s voice cut through the crowd of voices that cried aloud at the sight before them.
Anara’s body crumpled beside Larissa. “Masai, do something!”
Hope warmed Larissa’s heart, easing the hollow pain in her chest. She raised her head, making room for Masai, who knelt at Darien’s side, his dark hands reaching out to Darien’s chest. Though his palms glowed, the light sputtered out and faded.
Sweat beaded down Masai’s face. “I have nothing left. He’s too far gone. ”
It was the guilt in Masai’s voice that acted as the final blow, severing Larissa’s heart from her mind. Cold paralyzed Larissa’s body.
“No!” Anara screamed, shoving Masai onto the ground. “Fix him!”
“I can’t!” he shouted back, rising to his feet. He caught Anara’s fists in his large hands to stop her from attacking. “I’m sorry. He’s gone.”
Anara snatched her hands back and wrapped her arms around Larissa as if in comfort. But there could be no comfort. Larissa’s fingers caressed the hair at the nape of Darien’s neck, unable to recognize her own sobs. How could a world exist without him in it?
“I’m sorry, Lara.” Anara’s voice shook. “He was my best friend, too.”
“That’s my son!” King Torsten’s tortured voice called out from somewhere behind Larissa, but she clung even tighter to Darien’s body.
She wouldn’t let him go; she couldn’t.
“No, the Norn can’t have him.” Larissa raised her face to the sky, ignoring the crowd around them. “Vereandi! You can’t have him! Show yourself!”
Though Larissa’s tears continued to stream down her face, the world around Larissa slowed, then stopped.
The noise ceased; even the waves silenced.
Everything around her was tinged in gray, as though the very color of the world had been sucked out of her surroundings.
Anara’s comforting hand stopped near her shoulder.
Torsten knelt, his hands frozen in the process of tearing at his beard in sorrow.
Halvor and General Aiko stared at Darien, at the blood that stopped dripping from his chest.
As silent as a wisp of smoke, the small child-goddess with flowing, fiery hair and glowing eyes settled next to Larissa. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “Such a shame; I’d hoped we were wrong.”
“He’s not dead,” Larissa forced the words out through gritted teeth, but even to her own ears, she sounded like a wounded animal. “Save him.”
One of Vereandi’s small hands brushed back a black curl from Darien’s face. “I’ve stopped him in time just like everyone else. You’re right that his heart has a final beat left, but his soul has already gone.”
“What does that mean?”
Vereandi laid her hands on Darien’s chest, knitting together the gaping wound with only her touch. “I can heal the body, but I can’t retrieve the soul.”
Larissa’s hands brushed over the closed wound in wonder. It was as if the bullet had never gone through. “I can retrieve it. Just tell me how; there has to be a way.”
Vereandi looked at her with pity in her young eyes. “There is a price.”
The image of her mother pouring out her galdr into Vereandi, sacrificing her life, played out in Larissa’s mind.
If Calder had been telling the truth, then Halla was gone.
The thought alone turned Larissa’s world black.
If Halla was beyond saving, and Darien couldn’t be saved, what point was there in living?
Anara was resilient. She would survive. As for the prophecy, Larissa couldn’t care less.
For weeks, all she had cared about was the prophecy and her people and Darien’s people, but what did those things mean without the ones she loved?
If Darien would choose her over his kingdom, she would choose Darien over the prophecy.
Every time. Let the Norn choose a different hero to save the world.
“I’ll pay it.” Larissa held out her hands as she remembered her mother doing so long ago, ignoring the realization of how angry Darien would be when he learned what she’d done. As if he wouldn’t do the exact same thing. “If you need my galdr , take it. Just save him.”
But Vereandi only grabbed her hands, placing them back on Darien’s body. “It’s a different price, and you won’t pay it to me.”
Frowning, Larissa rubbed away the tears that stained her cheeks. “Then who?”
The child-goddess smiled down at Darien, running a finger along his stubbled jawline. “She might not want to give him back. Hel likes pretty things too.”
Larissa drew in a shaky breath. “Hel? As in, the goddess of death?”
“The collector of souls herself.” Vereandi’s high pitched voice chimed in the air.
“I thought she died in Ragnarok with the rest of the gods.”
Vereandi raised an eyebrow. “Many of us survived, including Hel. I’ll care for Darien’s body, take it back with me, and keep it frozen in time just as before, but you must retrieve his soul if you wish to bring him back.”
“And she’ll just let me waltz into Helheim and leave again?” Larissa asked incredulously.
“There are bonds that tie us together. You are bound to Darien, and even Hel can’t deny those bonds. Of anyone, your tie to Darien is strongest. It will lead you to him, and it will allow you entry into Helheim along with my gift.”
“Gift?”
“Don’t you remember?” Vereandi leaned forward, her fingers tapping on the underside of Larissa’s wrist. At her touch, the elongated Z rune from Larissa’s vision reappeared. It glowed for a moment then faded away, sinking into Larissa’s unblemished skin.
“For your protection, when you need it most,” Vereandi repeated.
Larissa stared at the child-goddess, not at all convinced by her innocent expression. “You knew this would happen. You knew that Darien would die, that I would make this deal, that I would go to Helheim.”
“Of course we knew.” Vereandi smiled. “So you will go?”
“Don’t you already know the answer?”
“Then it’s decided.” Vereandi leapt to her feet. She bit her lip, looking apologetic. “I misspoke before. I don’t need as much of your galdr , but I do require some of it to transport Darien back to Yggdrasil .”
“Why?” she asked, even as she raised her hands. It wasn’t that Larissa wasn’t willing to pay, only that she was curious. “You have all this power; what do you need mine for?”
“Our galdr cannot work outside of the boundaries placed upon us by the gods. We cannot interfere with predicted fate unless we are fueled by others.” Vereandi laid her hands on top of Larissa’s. “This might hurt a little.”
The air around their hands shimmered as galdr poured out of Larissa and into Vereandi.
There was pain, but to Larissa’s broken heart, it was bearable.
If pain was the cost of Darien’s safety, she would pay it.
Galdr slogged through her body as if it took Vereandi longer than usual to find it.
When Vereandi withdrew her hands, Larissa slumped over Darien’s body, certain that there was nothing left within her.
In a way, it felt right to be emptied of galdr .
She was empty, a shell of who she’d once been.
A golden aura emanated from Vereandi as her red hair curled and flicked around her face.
Vereandi bent forward, laying her hands on Darien’s chest that shimmered at her touch.
The shimmer extended down his body, encasing him in galdr —Larissa’s galdr .
Larissa watched through half-closed eyes as his body faded from sight, leaving her lying in grass and soil coated in his blood.
“We will speak again soon,” Vereandi promised.
Larissa could hardly manage the word. “How?”
“In your dreams, as always, Lovisa. I will show you the way.” Vereandi’s voice faded to a whisper. “You have until the next full moon, when Hel’s tide will collect all souls. If you do not get to Darien before then, you will not be able to reach him at all.”
Larissa knew the goddess had gone as the discordant cacophony rushed over her, and color bled back into her surroundings.
Without Darien’s body to hold on to, Larissa was left with only her grief.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, holding together what little of her remained.
Anara’s hand finished its arc and landed on her shoulder, but Larissa turned her face into the soil, howling in rage and sorrow, unwilling to force her body to rise and face a world without Halla, without Darien.
She heard Anara’s and Masai’s exclamations as they took in Darien’s missing body, but their words were worthless in Larissa’s ears.
Then another voice pierced her turmoil. It was a voice Larissa feared she’d never hear again. Straining against the emptiness that weighed her body down into the earth, Larissa lifted her head.
Running toward her was a small girl with freckles that contrasted sharply against her pale cheeks and green eyes. Eyes just like her mother’s.
“Halla,” Larissa croaked, wondering if perhaps she was seeing a vision.
“Lara!” Halla threw herself beside Larissa and pulled her sister’s head into her lap. Halla’s hands and arms were streaked with blood. At the sight, Larissa forced herself to sit, grasping Halla’s face and soaking in the flush across Halla’s cheeks that proved her vitality. Proved that she lived.
Larissa didn’t ask how, didn’t need to know, not then.
There would be time for questions later.
Halla was alive, and Larissa would travel to Helheim and bring Darien back.
That was enough. A sliver of hope warmed the cold, empty center of her chest where her heart had used to beat.
Maybe one day, it would beat just as strongly again.