And here I was, cutting school, surfing every day, griping about the legacy my mom had left me. Unlike Freyja, who had literally joined an army, I had spent the ten years since the loss of my parent hiding instead of being the person she wanted me to become.
Turning onto my side, I tucked my hands beneath my cheek in a makeshift pillow. “What happened to him?”
Her arm dropped to the mat. “He died.”
“I’m sorry.” I’d heard the phrase so many times—after my mom passed away, after my therapist was slain, after Javi fell into a coma. They were useless words that wouldn’t change a thing; but they were the only ones I knew I could actually get out against the wave of sympathy roaring through me.
“Many people died in the Cross-Realm War.” Her face crinkled in the sort of smile meant to hide strong emotion and brush it off, but I’d seen a flicker of her grief. It was the same kind that haunted me: the kind that never went away. “In that way, he wasn’t special at all.”
My throat twisted into a knot, but I swallowed the feeling down.
“The mermaids found him on the rocks beneath the lighthouse cliffs. Apparently, he was the perfect lunch specimen for them.”
Oh God, she wasn’t implying they…I leveraged myself up onto my elbows, desperate for fresher air.
“We never got his body back.” At whatever my face held, she bit out a cold laugh. “But then again, most were unrecognizable anyway.”
I inhaled sharply, but the oxygen didn’t reach my lungs.
The vision from the Pearl of Truth played before my eyes: the blood, the ash, the loss, me screaming at the watchtower door. A cough ripped its way out of me. I gasped for breath, but the air was too cold, burning my throat, like swallowing fire and ice at once.
Freyja thrust a water bottle into my hands. It could have been poison for all I knew, but I chugged the entire thing. “You good?” she asked haughtily.
“The Cross-Realm War.” I gritted my teeth, fighting against the spasm of my lungs to force a normal breath. “It was there. It happened there.”
Freyja pulled a stray stitch on the zipper of her sleeping bag. “Mortals visit Dyrhólaey for the view. We visit to remember. Why do you?”
I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes sweeping the shadows in case something else was listening. But it was just us.
“To stop it from happening again.” I forced the words out, holding my voice steady even as my breath hitched. “I had a vision before I came to Iceland. It wasn’t a lie or a threat when I told you that earlier. I saw the remnants of war. And what’s weirder? I was there. At this point, I’m not sure what that means, if it was a scene from the past or…” I gulped. “A premonition of what’s to come.”
Freyja turned her gaze to the fire.
My nerves twisted in my chest. “I didn’t come to infiltrate your kingdom or spy on your court. I came here to find the Angel of Earth.” I had to tread carefully here. Allegiances ran deep, and even if she’d made hers to the elven queen, that didn’t mark her as trustworthy. “I obviously wasn’t going to outright tell you that after knowing you for two seconds. Demons have a bounty on my head—if I’m wanted at home, how do I know I’m not wanted abroad?”
I paused, and in that shallow breath I waited for a twitch of the ears, a stretch of the spine, any quiet signs of loyalty to Chthonia—but there was nothing but stillness from her.
So, I continued. “Do you know what I find interesting, though? Those same demons are just as territorial over the watchtowers as you are. And they don’t belong to either of you.”
Freyja’s shoulders slightly flinched. There it was: a sign. I didn’t know of what yet, but one of my points had finally struck her.
“Coming here… It felt like I was finally doing something right.” My words were no longer aimed at her but at the ceiling, as I dipped my head back and stared at the cracks in the ice as if they were stars. “I’ve lost so much. I’ve put so many people in harm’s way.” I blinked against the burn of tears: the werewolves, Javi, my therapist, all staring back at me when I closed my eyes. “But who was I kidding? My mistakes are like scars. I have to live with them forever. And I’m the biggest of them all.”
Freyja shifted in her bedroll. I could feel her stare, but I couldn’t sense what was behind it.
I pulled my legs to my chest, resting my cheek on my kneecap. “Anyways, the lighthouse is locked, you’ve taken me captive, and now I’m back at square one: no idea how to find Gaia.”
She pursed her lips as if she were debating. “The queen might know.” My head perked up. “But before you get too hopeful, her priority is protecting her kingdom, not entertaining the whims of her prisoners.”
Desperation chipped at my confidence. “Any tips for getting on her good side?”
“Address her properly. Don’t ask questions. Listen between the lines. Speak only when spoken to, and never, ever forget: you are not our guest.” Uncertainty filled the space between us, turning the air heavy. “You are our enemy until proven otherwise.”
“Thanks,” I said, more out of courtesy than anything.
“I don’t know who’s worse.” Rustling in her sleeping bag, she flipped onto her other side. “The demons who start the war, or the angels who drag us into it.”
Chapter 15
