Hideous black streaks coiled like serpents around the inflamed flesh, curling up and down Úlf’s entire arm. A noxious yellow liquid oozed from the gaping wound, the revolting stench of decay fouling the oppressive air. Grey tinged his pallid skin, and a sheen of sweat covered his brow, causing the thick blond hair to cling to his scalp. Úlf wheezed and spluttered, his labored breathing raspy, ragged, and rough.
When Elfi spotted him approach with Áki, she rushed to Njörd’s side. “He won’t awaken. And his breathing is becoming worse. Ylva says these are the same symptoms Skårde had when he was sliced by the Raven Warrior’s sword. ADökkálfarblade.” Dread seeped into Elfi’s quavering voice.
Úlvhild arose and scurried over to Elfi and Njörd. “You must go to the waterfall cave and summon Lugh. Have him come to the castle with his sister Luna.” She glanced at the elaborate weapon sheathed at Áki’s hip. “And tell him to bring his Elven Mirror.”
“I’ll run upstairs and grab Dag’s flute. I’ll be right back.” Elfi dashed out the door. When she returned a few moments later, Ylva and Skårde strode over to join them.
“I’ve tried usingnen glir—theLjósálfarmagic that Luna gifted me when I married Skårde,” Ylva said as her husband slid a supportive arm behind her back. “It enables me to cure aDökkálfarwound. Although it healed Skårde of a nearly fatal injury years ago,nen glirdid nothing to improve Úlf’s wound, despite the similar symptoms. And Úlvhild usedgaldrmagic, which was ineffective as well.” Alarm furrowed Ylva’s brow.
“We must go quickly to the waterfall cave and summon Lugh.” Elfi hooked her arm through Njörd’s, attempting to lead him away.
“My ships are ready, and the tide is right. I’m leaving now as well.” Áki inclined his head to Skårde. “I return toHeiðabýr.To serve your brother, the new Danish king.” He glared at Njörd. “My men are anxious to resume Viking raids. We’ve had enough of Norman farmlands.”
“Leave your Byzantine dagger with me. I will need it to cure Úlf.” A veneratedvölvawith divineseidrmagic of the Nordic gods, Úlvhild’s command could not be ignored.
Áki unstrapped the snakeskin sheath from his hip and handed it to her in sullen silence. Jaw clenched, he spun on his heels and stormed out of the Great Hall.
“It’s for the best that he is returning to Denmark. If Áki remained at Étretat, either he or Bodo would end up dead. One of them would kill the other.” Skårde watched Áki disappear through the enormous double oak doors. “My brother Sweyn will appreciate him on Viking raids as he pillages and plunders England.” Skårde scoffed. “He might even appoint Áki as warlord of his entire Danish army.”
“You must hurry.” Úlvhild redirected their attention back to the wounded Úlf. “Go at once to the waterfall cave. And make sure that Lugh brings not only his sister Luna, but his Elven Mirror as well.”
“We’ll be back as soon as possible. Gods willing, with Luna and Lugh.” Njörd grasped Elfi’s hand and led her away as Úlvhild and Ylva returned to Úlf’s side.
****
Amidst the roar of the cascade, droplets of mist, and salty spray of the sea, Elfi played Dag’s flute, and Lugh soon appeared from the dark recesses of the waterfall cave. His radiant smile disappeared when he noted the concern etched on Elfi’s face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Úlf is gravely wounded. Úlvhild sent us here to summon you.” Elfi’s voice cracked as she glanced up at Lugh. “We need Luna to help us heal him. And your Elven Mirror, to reveal the dark magic which is poisoning him as we speak.” Urgency laced her nearly breathless whisper. “Please hurry. Njörd and I shall wait here until you return. We’ll go back to the castle together.”
Lugh inclined his pale blond head. “I’ll fetch Luna—and my Elven Mirror—and return at once.” Conviction blazing in his Elven eyes, he rushed back through the portal toÁlfheim.
Elfi stared at the turquoise waters of the Mermaid Cove. She spun toward Njörd, a sudden idea illuminating her hopeful face. “We must bring Úlf here! Perhaps I can heal him withsjósongr.” Nearly breathless with exhilaration, she stammered, “When I went to theÎle de Sein,theGallizenaetold me that thesjóvættirmagic I inherited from my mother can also be used for healing. By cleansing away illness—with the curativesong of the sea.” Elfi grasped Njörd’s hands, her eyes widened with excitement. “Lugh and you can carry him here. For me to wield my magic and heal him!” Her brows furrowed, as if she’d remembered something. “But Úlvhild’s vision foresaw atrioof healers.” She chewed on her lower lip. “We’ll bring Ylva here, too. Perhaps together, we can heal him.”
Njörd sensed the presence of theLjósálfarduo coming through the portal. “Lugh and Luna are here.” When their silvery heads and shining eyes emerged from the darkness, Elfi led them from the waterfall cave, throughthe forested tunnel, back to the sacred grove.
Inside the Great Hall, Úlvhild rushed forward to greet theLjósálfar.She spoke to Luna. “Ylva tried healing Úlf withnen glir. I’ve used my new magic ofsólrún,hoping that the gift from the Goddess Sól would dispel the darkness that afflicts him. But neither enchantment worked. He worsens by the hour.”
Elfi’s eager voice was laced with hope. “We must bring him to the waterfall cave. Perhaps I can cure him withsjósongr.”Seeking support for her suggestion, she frantically searched the faces of thevölva, Ylva, and Luna, before resting her desperate gaze on Njörd.
“It’s worth a try. Nothing else has worked. Let’s go quickly.” Njörd scanned the Great Hall, looking for Bodo, but didn’t see him anywhere. He gestured to Njáll, Skårde, and Lugh. “Let’s transport him on the straw pallet. We’ll each take a corner—and carry him to the waterfall cave through the sacred grove.” When Njörd grasped an edge near Úlf’s head, the three other men quickly complied.
“Ylva, Luna, and Úlvhild—come with us. Perhaps a combination of our magic will succeed.” Grabbing a pewter chalice from a nearby table, Elfi motioned for the healers to join her and followed the men carrying Úlf out the exit doors.
****
When they emerged from the forested tunnel onto the grassy meadow near the waterfall cave, Njörd guided the men behind the cascade and into the grotto, where they laid the pallet on the limestone floor.
Elfi showed them the goblet she had brought from the Great Hall. “I’ll be right back. I need to fill this with sea water.” She turned to Ylva and indicated the satchel slung over the healer’s shoulder. “Do you have more strips of linen?”
Ylva nodded and patted the leather bag. “Yes, and a jar of garlic and honey ointment.”
Elfi exhaled in relief. “Good. Please remove the bandages so I can pour the ocean water directly onto the wound.” She darted behind the waterfall and descended the grassy embankment down to the sandy shore of the Mermaid Cove.
While the women removed Úlf’s bandages, Njörd watched Elfi dip the goblet below the surface of the water. She rose to her feet and wiped the chalice with the hem of her gown. Holding the goblet high so it wouldn’t spill, she climbed back up the path, strode across the meadow, and slipped behind the waterfall to enter the cave.
“I have never usedsjósongrfor healing,” she admitted, kneeling on the floor beside Úlf. “I hope this will cleanse the poison from his wound.” She carefully poured sea water from the chalice into the gruesome gash, murmuring a melodic incantation that reminded Njörd of Úlvhild’svardlokkurchants. Elfi dipped her fingers into the goblet, spreading sea water onto Úlf’s stricken face, but even after she’d concluded her spell, it was clear that there had been no change. On the contrary, Úlf’s pallor turned a more deathly grey.
Úlvhild handed Lugh the snakeskin sheath containing Áki’s Byzantine blade “This is the dagger which sliced his arm. Can your Elven Mirror reveal the source of the malevolent magic?”
