“I must go down to the sea.” Elfi cried to Úlvhild, her voice breaking on a choked sob. “You and Ylva must help me. Njörd has fallen…”
With Ylva’s help, Elfi struggled to rise, placing her tightly swaddled daughter in Oda’s loving arms. “Keep her safe,amma”,she whispered. “If I should not return…” Elfi swallowed against the tight lump in her throat as she kissed heramma’ssoft, crinkled cheek. “Raise her…as you did me.”
Her frantic eyes searched the bedside table. “My necklace…” she said to Vivi, who scrambled to fetch it for her. “Please fasten it behind my neck.” When Vivi quickly complied, Elfi added, “Please, bring the afterbirth. I will offer it to Rán.”
“Elfi, you are too weak.” Clutching the swaddled babe to her breast, Oda’s worried gaze darted from Elfi to Úlvhild. “You have lost so much blood. You cannot descend the stairs.”
“I must get to the sea.” Elfi, leaning on Ylva, turned desperate eyes to her trusted midwife. “Úlvhild, help me…”
“Of course. Lean on me. I will not let you fall.” Úlvhild wrapped one of Elfi’s arms around her neck, supporting her shoulder as Ylva did the same. When Vilde opened the heavy door, the two women guided Elfi down the winding stairs.
Vivi followed close behind, the silver bowl with the afterbirth cradled in her arms.
When they emerged at the base ofla Tour d’ Écume, the brilliant sun lingered on the horizon just over the water. Waves broke against the chalky cliffs, spraying them with foam, as Elfi’s midwives led her across the pebbled shore. There,at the very edge of the tide, she sank to her knees.
Placing both hands into the cold, frothy brine, she sang from the depths of her mermaid soul. As her melodic voice rose over the sunlit waves, the healing magic ofmir glir—theLjósálfarSong of the Sea, wedding gift from Njörd’s mother, Queen Íssla—poured forth, a radiant blue light spilling from her, flowing westward like a swift current to Njörd. She touched the necklace at the base of her throat and continued to sing, hersjósongrmagic—gifted by Rán—pouring into the brilliant turquoise stream. When her fingers traced the lapis lazuli center stone in the lowest tier, her song changed to aRánlokkurchant, invoking her grandmother goddess.
Úlvhild placed the silver basin beside her, the afterbirth within gleaming like a crimson moon. Elfi lifted it in trembling hands, her fingers slick with salt and blood, as she lowered it into the waves. “Amma,” she implored, her voice quavering with desperation, “take what once bound my babe to me…and with its life, give Njörd breath.”
As if Rán had heard her prayer and accepted the sacred offering, the afterbirth drifted outward on the tide, waves and sea foam whirling as it slipped beneath the surface and vanished into the deep.
“I must summon theGallizenaewithle Chant des Sirènes.” Once again, Elfi placed her hands into the waves, sending hersjóvættirspirit into the sea. “Mélusines, heed my call. Send the sea dragons to sink the enemy ships at the mouth of the Seine, upon the Narrow Sea. Save my husband Njörd...”
Exhausted, her limbs shaking and her mouth parched, Elfi turned to Úlvhild and Ylva at her side. “Please… help me rise. I have no strength left. Take me back up the stairs to my babe. I long to hold my daughter…”
* * * *
Njörd struggled to stay afloat and remain awake, fighting against the current, his saturated cloak and heavy chain mail dragging him down into the Narrow Sea. TheDokkálfarblade had struck deep, and darkness clawed at his mind, venomous shadows stealing his strength. Gurgling, he felt the icy wavespressing in, the world narrowing to the cold, relentless pull of the tide.
From the east—la Tour d’ Écume—a glowing stream of radiant blue light flowed toward him, swirling around him in a luminous, loving caress. Warmth seeped into his chilled bones as Elfi’s spirit merged with his, herLjósálfarlight dispelling theDökkálfardarkness and sealing the gash across his wounded belly. Turquoise light flowed into his lupine body, filling his lungs and limbs with life.Elfi…hisShe-Wolf of the Seahad sung herWolfsong—themir glirgifted by hismoðirÍssla.TheLjósálfarSong of the Sea that cleansed, healed, and restored. He glanced down at his bare hands, amazed to see that they glowed from within, like sunlight sparkling on the sea.
A mammoth shape crashed through the waves beside him.
Ulf, his wolf brother, had plunged into the surf.
He’d shed his grey wolfskin cloak and chain mail armor, swimming now toward Njörd, his teeth bared and eyes frantic to save him. Ulf’s hands closed around him, firm and unyielding, hauling him upward through the swirling tide.
Ahead, his shipDrakkúlfrloomed, its gunwale cutting against the foam. Strong, eager hands of his crew reached down, hauling him onto the deck. They lifted Úlf next, and Njörd clung to him, shaking, spluttering, half-drowned.
Úlf barked with incredulous laughter. “You glowed! A blue light flowed from the sea, right into you. That’s how I saw you, Njörd…I swam to you, and pulled you free.”
Njörd coughed, wheezed, and gasped, Elfi’s turquoise light still pulsing through his veins and throbbing in the turquoise talisman above his heart. He shivered, freezing and wet—yet desperately glad to be alive.
But around them, the brutal battle still raged.
Thedrakkarpitched beneath the blows of Rus raiders,Dokkálfarclaws clamped over the rails, and the shouts of Frankish warriors carrying across the Narrow Sea. Úlf gripped his forearms and shouted into his ear. “I must get back to my ship—I need my wolfskin, my armor!” Teeth bared in a feral snarl, he roared, “The blood of the wolf flows in us, Njörd. May Odin lead us to triumph!”
Drakkúlfrheaved, an enormous wave surging onto the deck, as Rus raiders rammed Njörd’s ship, splintering planks and sending his men sprawling. Grappling hooks gripped the gunwale, andDokkálfarleapt onto the ship, curved claws and deadly blades flashing.
Njörd seized hisfaðir’sDwarven sword from the bloodied deck. As he lunged and sliced,Úlfsongrsang itsWolfsongof death.
Hrolf Redbeard’s resounding bellow rang above the din like a war horn.
“Sea dragons!”
As the golden light of the setting sun dipped below the horizon, enormous dark shapes appeared beneath the turbulent sea, each massive beast twice the length and width of thesnekkjaslurking at the mouth of the Seine.
Njörd’s lupine heart surged at the stirring sight.
