“It seems the day of reckoning has occurred between my son and the great King Sigvid Thordsson.” Lavinia pauses, and Aura’s heart pounds with anticipation. “It seems Calder has conquered your husband.”
“Sigvid is…dead?”
“It would seem so, little Queen.”
She lies!
Aura teeters on the chair when its old bones can no longer support her weight, and she crashes onto the floor, looking up through the crack spread across her back.
Avina clutches her head, and even from below, she can see her nails digging into her temples. Wails from the most bottomless pits of the Abyss tear at Aura’s heart as her mother wrongly mourns.
“Don’t listen to her, Mum! She is a manipulator!”
“Now, now, little Sigvidsson. The adults are speaking.” Lavinia kneels beside Avina, brushing her curls aside. “So much pain you must feel. Betraying his respect. When his soul descended into the Depths, do you think he forgave you?” Lavinia presses her lips to Avina’s forehead before standing.
“To think your soul is bound for the Golden Citadel. You shall never see him again.”
As Lavinia sweeps from the room, Aura is already to her feet, struggling to get her short arms to reach the ceiling.
“Mother, she is an evil bitch! She has yet to truly confirm Father’s death. I know he is alive! Think, Mum, you are the daughter of Maeve. Use your wisdom!”
Exhaustion fills her mother’s tormented gaze. Unlike before, when her mother was trapped in Scarwood Citadel without a window or bed for two weeks, Lavinia has developed a far more sinister plan of torture. She and her handmaidens have been starving Avina until she can hardly think straight, and then tormenting her mentally.
Aura has endured agony witnessing this, and she recognizes it as the breaking point for her mother.
“Mum, please, I need you to trust in your heart that nothing can kill him!”
Avina nods through the despair as Aura’s door is unlocked, and the appearance of her captor forces her to release her grip on the ceiling.
“Hello, little Sigvidsson. I thought it prudent to remind you that if your witchseidrcomes out to play, I will hurt your sweet mother. As you can hear and see, she is not doing too well.”
Lavinia strides forward until she is nose to nose with Aura, lowering her voice. “I chose not to chain her in place. Despite leaving her in an empty room, we both know she struggles with a melancholy that could overwhelm her. I would hate to see her take her own life.”
Aura slaps Lavinia so hard that the guards rush forward, restraining her.
“You fucking bitch! My father is going to tear the flesh from your bones!”
“Ooh! Look at that fire. Unfortunately, I am not here to dance with you, little Sigvidsson.”
Lavinia snaps, and her guards release her, leaving the room. At the door, Lavinia tosses her thick locks over her shoulder with a wicked grin. “Enjoy your evening with the God of Power.”
Aura’s face pales, and her heart rate kicks until she is sure she cannot breathe.
God of Power? But Lavinia said that I am here to motivate Calder. Why would Makt come to see me?
The sconces flicker and die, leaving her in darkness except for the faint moonlight trickling in through the window slits. Only her fury at Lavinia’s treatment of her mother keeps her alert and unafraid.
“Aura…”A cold breath tickles her ear, and she whirls around to face nothing.
“I can see why my son is drawn to you, love.”
“Fire. Power. Beauty.”
Aura stumbles into the center of the room, her knuckles whitening as she exerts every ounce of self-control to refrain from tapping into herseidr.
“Imagine what I can offer you—the power I can bestow at your feet.”
She turns around, now facing a ghostly Makt. She gasps at his wild appearance, from his hair to his leather armor that resembles that of a Salt Warrior. However, it's his smile that twists her stomach in knots. That curve of his lips is menacing, promising pain.
