Chapter thirty-five #2
I felt naked without a weapon, but the priestesses had nothing other than blunt kitchen knives, so I would be relying on Baldur’s flame and teeth and claws. I didn’t bother with my jacket or boots. Didn’t want to lose them if I had to shift in a hurry.
“Ready?” Eisa braided her hair back, her borrowed dress stained from wear, and a smear of blood still coloring her upper lip.
She was so lovely.
I nodded, slinging the pack over my shoulder. I didn’t want to risk the Book, but I couldn’t leave it out here unguarded either. “Don’t wait to shift. If there are odemarksdyr—“
“I know,” she said, squeezing my hand and giving me an exasperated look.
“Or if my father—“
”I know.“ She rolled her eyes at me, and I fought the urge to pull her in for one last kiss.
Not last. If the Norns were kind, I would have a thousand more kisses with this woman.
Are you a believer now? Baldur rumbled.
I will be if we both make it out of here alive. I would make a fucking shrine to them if they could keep my mate safe.
The only sounds were the distant screams and the pad of our feet across the broken stones. One door to the great hall was askew on its hinges, but the interior was so dark, I couldn’t make out anything beyond.
Idunn says someone’s in here. Eisa said, her hand gripping mine so hard her knuckles turned white.
I clenched my jaw and tried to stay calm. Stay close.
She nodded, and I pushed open the broken door. The wood creaked ominously, but the room was still. Dark and silent. The ceiling had been patched where we had escaped through the roof, the wooden planks far lighter than the surrounding beams, but otherwise, the room appeared unchanged.
Except for the pool of blood and the bodies lying at the foot of the dais.
And on my father’s throne…
“Took you long enough,” Edvard drawled, one leg propped lazily over the arm of the throne. He twirled a dagger in his right hand, the tip stained red. “I was beginning to think you might not come.”
“Edvard.” I stilled, pulling Eisa to a stop just behind me as I realized whose bodies lay at his feet.
My mother and father.
Grief clenched my heart for my mother. Grief and rage. “What have you done?”
“It said you would come, though,” Edvard mused as if he hadn’t heard me. “It is right about most things.” He suddenly winced and clutched at his skull. “It is…” His voice was thinner, as if he were in pain. “Displeased that I doubted It.”
“Who, Edvard?” I stepped forward cautiously, checking the surroundings for guards. A weapon. Anything that might be helpful. Eisa remained a step behind me, her breathing shallow. “Who are you talking about? What have you done?”
“Did you know?” He sat upright, his eyes clear again. “Did you know that Father was going to make you his heir?”
I said nothing, which was answer enough.
Edvard burst into a maniacal laugh, and the windows of the hall shook as if they might shatter.
Something is not right, Baldur murmured. He is…wrong somehow.
I feel it too. Eisa this time. He’s…different.
“Of course you knew,” Edvard spat, the ground beneath our feet rumbling. If the chasm expanded now, we would be sucked into its depths before we had time to shift. “The golden boy. The son with the dragon. Of course he told you.”
“Edvard.” I was at a loss for words. Edvard knew my father hated me. Reveled in it, in fact. “Tell me what you did.”
“HE LIED TO ME!” Edvard stood, his voice deepening into something ancient and cold and cruel.
He breathed heavily, and I edged Eisa back a step, handing her the pack. Shift as soon as he moves. Take the Book.
I felt her tremble at the proximity of the Book, but her voice was firm. Not without you!
When Edvard next spoke, his voice was his again, almost childlike. “It should have been me to go to Ironholm.”
“Edvard.” I had no idea what to say to this, but I suspected that making him angry would damn us, and I needed to get the dagger out of his hands. I stepped forward again. “Put down the dagger, and we’ll talk.”
Edvard cocked his head, the movement unnatural as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. “But It will make me king. And now,” he looked up, and to my horror, his pupils stretched to vertical slits. “Now I have a dragon.”
The room exploded into darkness, and I instinctively threw myself over Eisa and shifted, letting Baldur’s scales take the brunt of the violence.
I HAVE A FORM. The darkness spoke inside my mind like Baldur could, its voice blocking all other thought as it invaded my senses. It rose before us, two slitted amber eyes glowing from its depths as the shape of a dragon filled the hall.
Not a dragon. A wyrm.
The winged serpent was twice Baldur’s size, its scales a glittering onyx. Sharp spikes traversed its spine, ending in a barbed tail. Serrated talons at the apex of each wing looked like they could slice a man in two, and it flicked its forked tongue out as if tasting the air, hunting for us.
The thing curled its tail in on itself, stretching its great wings to rise above us.
Beneath me, Eisa screamed in pain, her hands clutching at her head as the Darkness spoke. It was hurting her, as it had in the temple. In the cave.
It hurt our mate.
Baldur didn’t think. He roared, and a jet of white fire engulfed the dark wyrm. The glass in the windows shattered at the sudden blast of heat, and Baldur flared his wings wide to protect our precious mate.
We bellowed in agony as a thousand shards of glass tore at our wings, embedding themselves in the delicate membranes.
The wyrm laughed, the sound echoing around us as the smoke cleared.
YOU THINK FIRE CAN DEFEAT ME? I AM DARKNESS, THE DEVOURER OF WORLDS. The wyrm opened its maw wide to show rows and rows of glittering black teeth. I WAS BORN IN FIRE AND CHAOS TO BE THE END OF ALL THINGS.
TOUCH HIM AND FUCKING DIE! The voice was Eisa’s, but deeper and more powerful as a blue dragon erupted from beneath us. Baldur tumbled to the side, his wings crunching in more glass, as Idunn charged, fire blazing and jaw snapping.
The Darkness reared, its ancient, echoey laughter filling the hall as its amber eyes fixed on my mate.
It snapped its jaws, and she laid down a blanket of blue fire so hot, the glass embedded in our wings melted into molten rivulets.
The wyrm just laughed. I DID NOT BELIEVE THEM WHEN THEY TOLD ME. BUT YOU DO HAVE IT. GIVE IT TO ME.
Them? It?
Baldur screeched as he tried to claw his way toward our mate, despite the glass burning holes in his wings.
I saw what rested between her glittering claws as Idunn hissed and snapped.
The Book. It wanted the Book.
Eisa. My voice felt weak in my mind as Baldur struggled to heal us. Run.
YOU ARE MINE! It was Idunn. Idunn was speaking in my head. HE SHALL NOT TOUCH YOU!
FOOL. The serpent roared. One of the walls of the Great Hall fell away, revealing the faintly glowing blue chasm below. GIVE IT TO ME!
The wyrm strapped at Idunn’s neck, pushing her back toward the Rift. She reared, using her wings to balance her. The monster missed her throat by inches, but its jagged teeth caught the edge of one beautiful, blue wing.
The membranes shredded into sickly black ribbons.
Baldur roared as Idunn screeched in agony. Black ichor dripped from the wound as she lost control of their form and stumbled backward, collapsing into my human mate at the very edge of the Rift.
HER WINGS! Baldur was frantic as Eisa struggled to rise, her back torn to shreds, her arms clutching something wrapped in tattered fabric. SHE CAN’T FLY!
Eisa!
As if it heard my panicked scream, the black serpent whirled. Talons of inky night shot toward us and pinned us to the broken ground. Baldur roared as the bands of darkness burned with a fire so cold I thought it might kill us.
GIVE IT TO ME, the serpent hissed, shadows digging into our back like daggers of ice. Baldur lost the shift as pain engulfed us, and the serpent released his hold on me as I toppled to the floor. AND I SHALL GRANT YOU AND YOUR MATE A SWIFT DEATH.
No, no, no. It couldn’t end like this.
The glass and burns on my back were agony, but I crawled forward, inch by desperate inch, trying to reach my mate. Run, Kjaere! Leave the Book and run!
The wooden doors crashed behind me, but I couldn’t tear my focus away from my mate. Terror filled every cell of my being as she bled out on the stone floor, her breathing shallow, her ruined back twin to mine.
Kjaere!
Eisa lifted her head, and her eyes met mine across the hall, bright and blue and full of anguish. I love you.
And as the Darkness lunged toward her, she threw herself into the Rift.