“I have inherited her power,” Elfi stammered, pulse thrumming in her parched throat. “And I must learn how to wield it. Because I am sailing with Njörd to Ísland, for him to reclaim his father’s Dwarven sword. There’s a prophesy he must fulfill, and he needs my help.” She released Sif’s hands and crossed the room, fetching Dag’s flute from the wooden chest where she always kept it secure. “Thank you for cleaning my armor, but I won’t need it after all. I’m not going to train with swords today as planned. Instead, I’m bringing Njörd to the waterfall cave.” Elfi tucked the flute into a deerskin sack belted at her waist. “We’re hoping to meet Lugh—theLjósálfarwho forged Dag’s sword. Because Úlvhild foresaw that he will be the one to craft weapons for me as well. With bones from Njörd’s sacred white wolf.” Elfi patted the whalebone instrument in her leather pouch. “Lugh is attracted to the music I play with Dag’s flute. So today,Njörd is coming with me to the waterfall cave. We’re hoping to lure theLjösálfarthere, so we can meet him.” Elfi kissed a stunned Sif’s soft cheek. “I must hurry. Njörd is waiting for me in the foyer downstairs. When myammawakes up, tell her I’m strolling along the seashore with my betrothed. She’ll be pleased we’re spending time together. And now, I must go. See you soon.”
Elfi grabbed an unlit torch and flew down the stairs to find Njörd—wrapped in the white wolfskin cloak, a gleaming sword strapped to his sinewy hip—waiting near the castle entrance. When he flashed her a glorious grin, her heart soared like the swan wings of Freyja’s Valkyries.
She floated up to him, hooked her arm in his, and ushered him out the oaken door.
****
Elfi brought Njörd through the dense forest nearle Château Blancto the clearing in the sacred grove where they practiced weaponry. Njörd recognized the open mouth of the hidden cave, concealed behind low lying branches of enormous beech and oak trees, which led from the tunnel at the bottom of the castle keep.
“There’s another underground passage on the opposite side of the sacred grove. It empties into the waterfall cave. Come, it’s this way.” Elfi conducted him through the ash, beech, fir, and oak trees to the other side of the woods, where the mouth of another cave was concealed by thick vines and foliage. “We’ll need to light this torch,” she said, sticking the wooden end into the ground as she searched for moss to start a small fire.
“Here, allow me.” Njörd retrieved the fire-steel and flint from the pouch on his belt. As Elfi placed the gathered dried moss into a small pile, he held the decorated, curved handle of the tool and slid the sharp metal edge along the ridged groove of the flint striking stone, creating sparks which caught fire. He blew on the tiny flame and lit the torch, which he handed to Elfi as he extinguished the small blaze. Storing the fire-steel and striking stone back into his pouch, he smiled, gesturing tothe open mouth of the hidden cave. “Lead the way.”
Clutching her torch to light the path, Elfi led Njörd into the darkened gloom.
They followed the steep descent of the obscure tunnel, emerging into an astonishing limestone grotto which opened onto a rocky ledge high above the brilliant turquoise waters of a secluded inlet which was almost entirely surrounded by white chalk cliffs. A deafening waterfall cascaded over the open mouth of the sea cave, thundering in his sensitive ears and reverberating into his lupine bones. With his keen sense of smell, Njörd discerned the sweet scent of a freshwater spring, the sharp tang of the brackish estuary, and the salty brine of the Narrow Sea. The aroma of live oysters, mussels, clams, and scallops—in addition to haddock, cod, sea bass, and sole—made his stomach growl at the thought of gorging on succulent seafood and fresh fish.
As he stood behind the magnificent waterfall, his physical senses reeling, Njörd perceived an otherworldly essence which stirred his spirit and spoke to his soul. “This place is magical. I sense an aura which calls to me. A link beyond the mortal realm.”
An aquatic brilliance radiated from Elfi, as if she embodied the enchantment he sensed. “Dag and I found this cave as children.” Her voice was ephemeral and evanescent, reminiscing the bittersweet past. “We used to jump off this ledge—through the waterfall—and splash in the bubbling water of the cove down below.” She gazed at the frothy waves which lapped the white shore of the sandy beach. “I used to pretend I was a mermaid.” She turned to look up at Njörd, tears brimming in her limpid eyes. “That’s why he named it the Mermaid Cove.” Elfi smiled sadly as she looked back out at the turquoise waters. “Dag taught me to wield his sword… and to play his flute. When he and my father would sail off on raids, I used to come here to practice. And now—since Dag’s death—I come here often to play his flute. I hope he hears me in Valhalla.”
Njörd tenderly brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, cradling her against his chest as he kissed her rose-scented hair. “I’m sure he does.” He rocked her in his arms for comfort. “Why don’t you play for him now? I’d love to hear you, too.”
Elfi nodded and withdrew from his embrace, inhaling deeply to compose herself. She wiped her eyes and forced a smile as she looked up at him. “All right. I’ll pour my pain into the music. It cleanses me—like the waterfall in this secret cave.”
She withdrew an ivory instrument with several holes on one side from the leather wrap tucked in her belt. “This is made from whalebone. Dag bought it in Dorestad, the Viking trade center in Frisia. He andfaðirwould often stop therewhen they sailedto Denmark.” Elfi lifted the whalebone flute to her full, rosy lips. Elbows extended, slender fingers placed over the small, round holes, she played the most hauntingly beautiful melody that Njörd had ever heard.
While the cool, clear waterfall cascaded over the mouth of the cave, the crystalline notes poured from Elfi’s flute like the flow of a sacred spring. Evanescent music floated through the mist, lifting Njörd’s spirit on the wings of the wind.
The back of his neck tingled and a shiver ran up his spine. His hackles didn’t raise, like they did in the presence of an enemy. Instead, he sensed the same innate, otherworldly bond that he’d felt when he met the white wolf in Norway. And the shapeshifting warriors of theÚlfhéðnar.
Njörd turned around slowly, his instincts informing him that Lugh had arrived.
In the back of the cave behind them stood an exceptionally tall male with sleek, silvery blond hair that tumbled down his wide shoulders. His ears were elongated and pointed, his skin pale and luminous. He was exceptionally tall--even more towering than Njáll-- and his dark green Elven armor appeared crafted from the scales of an immense dragon. A gleaming sword was sheathed at his trim waist, a curved bow and quiver of arrows strapped across his broad back. As he stared in admiration and appreciation of Elfi, the finely sculpted features of his noble face were transfixedwith awe. “Your music is sublime.” The rich timbre of Lugh’s deep voice resounded in the cave like the low melodic notes of a mellow harp.
Elfi spun around and gasped at the sight of theLjósálfar. “Thank you.” Her lips quavered in a tremulous smile. “You must be Lugh.”
“Indeed I am. And you are Elfi of Étretat. Daughter of Dúva and sister of Dag.” Lugh took hold of Elfi’s hand and bent to kiss it with reverence. “I have long admired your music. And your ethereal beauty. I had once even hoped to woo you myself.” Lugh smiled wistfully and shook his head, envious eyes fixed on Njörd. “Until I saw in my Elven mirror—whose enchanted glass illuminates that which is shrouded in darkness—that you were destined for another.” He bowed his head respectfully to Njörd. “The Wolf of the Nordic Seas. Son of theLjósálfarhealer Íssla and theÚlfhéðnarwarrior Brökk.” Lugh extended his huge hand, which Njörd respectfully shook.
“You knew my mother?” Elfi’s dulcet voice was full of hope.
“Yes, I did. Dúva and I guarded thePays de Cauxtogether. She protected the seas and inlets, such as this one.” He gestured to the turquoise waters of the Mermaid Cove below the waterfall cave. “And I defend the sacred forests in the Land of the White Chalk Cliffs.”
“Can you tell me about her? ThevölvaÚlvhild said that my mother was one of thesjóvættirsea spirits.Ashapeshifting mermaid.” Elfi’s blue green eyes sparkled like the shimmering waters of the Mermaid Cove.
“That is true. Dúva had fallen in love with your father Thorfinn. She longed to marry him and bear his children. But as a mermaid, she was incapable of giving birth. She pleaded with the Sea Goddess Rán to retain her human form, knowing that it would eventually cost her life. Dúva married your father, bore him a son, and died giving birth to you. Yet hersjóvættirsea spirit remains in these waters. And in you, the daughter who inherited her power.”
Njörd gripped Elfi’s trembling hand, squeezing it for reassurance. “Thevölvaalso said that the mermaids of theGallizenaewould teach Elfi to wield her inherited power. And that you would escort her to theÎle de Sein,the otherworldly island where they live.”
Lugh nodded with an enigmatic grin as he held Elfi’s rapt gaze. “I will bring you there very soon.” He swept a long,dragonscaleclad arm behind him, indicating the back of the limestone grotto. “We will cross the portal together.”
An astonished Elfi peered around the corner into the darkness. “The portal to theÎle de Seinis in this waterfall cave?”
“It is indeed. And I will take you there,to train with the shapeshifting mermaids of theGallizenae.” Lugh eyed the glittering gems at the base of Elfi’s throat. “There is alsosjóvættirmagic in that necklace. Where did you get it?”
“From a trading port in the Far East on the Caspian Sea.” Njörd watched as Lugh closely examined the tiers of turquoise, emerald, and lapis lazuli stones. “It once belonged to a Persian princess. When I saw it in among the jewels that a Byzantine merchant was selling, it beckoned to me. Intuitively, I sensed that it was meant for my future mate.”
As Lugh ran long fingers over each strand, the gems glowed intensely beneath his Light Elven touch. “Perhaps the Persian princess was the daughter of asea spirit, like you.”Lugh’s dark green eyes blazed like the fiery emeralds around Elfi’s slender throat. “This necklace…” he said, eyeing the three tiers of gems and the lapis lazuli beads which glittered amongst the etched runes of Elfi’s amulet, “and yourtrollkorstalisman… are imbued with enchanted stones. Each will defend against the darkness which hunts you.”
