I slowed to a halt, peering over my shoulder into the dim light. Despite the castle being fully equipped with an electrical grid, the elves had decided to go full medieval and use torches in this labyrinth of corridors and cells in…wherever the hell they’d thrown me.
But I’d know Gunnar’s friendly voice anywhere.
“That’s one word,” I said. “Where am I?”
“Beneath the Terrordome.”
The Terrordome. That sparkling silver building behind the ice-laden hills, the very place this same person once told me people fought to the death, while he was teaching me my jabs and crosses. Figured I’d end up here.
“It’s a replica of the same coliseum they had in the realm the elves were originally from.” The fire flickered, casting shadows over his face, the twists of his hair, his uniform—the tailored navy-blue coat and beret and slacks I sometimes saw him wear. “So they say.”
“I thought no one was supposed to visit me.” My eyebrows dipped. “Or…” I trailed off. “Have you been assigned to make sure I don’t escape?”
Gunnar huffed out a laugh, looking down beneath his long lashes. “Eva might have done a little switcheroo with the assignments during her last shift. Fritz is guarding the Hlið lífsins—the main gate you entered through—and he gave us special clearance to come in.”
I didn’t have the heart or the energy to explain that I’d been blindfolded on the chaotic trek in, presumably so I wouldn’t be able to find my way out. Instead, I said, “Us?”
“A couple of people,” he said, raising a brow. “You might know them as your friends?”
I fought hard to choke back the emotion creeping into my throat. But it was damn near impossible when his lips parted on a smile, and Olivia, then Freyja shuffled out from behind the wall.
“What are you guys doing here?” I wrapped my fingers around the metal and brought my face to the door.
Flipping off the hood of her maroon cape, Olivia grabbed on to the small parts of my hands I could fit through the lattice. “We’re here to wish you good luck.”
“Luck.” I scuffed the dirt with my toe.
Olivia smiled, but the expression was thin on her face. “That’s all we got.”
Freyja put her weight on her hip, pewter gaze piercing me like the fine tips of icicles. “Is that not enough?”
“Of course it is,” I said, but the words felt heavy.
“Good.” Relaxing her face, she smoothed out her glittering green gown. “Because my bet’s on you, angel.”
Gunnar leaned against the grille. “Finalllyyy.”
“Oh, shut up.” Freyja gave a playful squinch of her nose.
Chewing the inside of my mouth, I bit back a smile. Her support—all their support….
I dug my face into my long, black sleeve, wiping away tears before they could fall.
“I can’t believe the queen’s doing this,” Gunnar muttered.
“It’s barbaric,” Olivia spat, thrusting a hand through the air. “We’ve moved on from stunts like this. The old gods are nothing but trouble. They should stay sleeping.”
“They should,” I mumbled. “But I invoked them.”
All three of their stares remained fixed on me as I walked them through the past forty-eight hellish hours. The tips of the elves’ ears flinched when I told them how Grýla had caused the avalanche. Olivia’s hand pressed against her heart when I explained how Hildur tricked me into entering the Heimer Töfra. Every mouth hung open by the time I got to the twisted deal the queen had made with the ogress.
“I’m telling you right now,” Olivia said after I had gone quiet, “hell would have frozen over by the time I ended up in that old witch’s stew.”
I smiled somberly.
A horn bellowed above us. It was an instrument of war, loud enough to penetrate stone. A call to battle. Everyone’s chins jerked up, grit falling upon us like snow.
“Look, as coldhearted as our queen can be, she did what any ruler would do: fought for her people.” Freyja’s stare lingered on the ceiling as if she could see through it. “Doesn’t mean I agree with it. Honestly, I do think she’d prefer you out of the pit, but even she can’t change this. Once law is enacted, it’s in the hands of the gods.”
