Chapter Thirty
I released the high, unbridled squeal of delight known only by children. A seaside mountain shimmered with a sunlessglow. I was slapped by cold, overcome by salt and pine and wilderness as I giggled in delight at our surroundings. The edge of the world fell off into darkness, but I knew we were safe. She’d taken us to Álfheimr.
“Ella! We—”
But she was not standing, smiling, dancing, celebrating.
A ruby circle spread from her center. Her fingers flew to the weapon, clutching at it uselessly as she looked up at me.
The blood drained from my face as I stared at my friend and ally, the goddess of treasure and desire on her knees. Shock replaced the giddiness I’d felt only moments prior. Her head was tilted down, a curtain of golden curls concealing her features as she looked at her center. Her hands went to her core and stayed on the bloodied, embedded object. When she looked up at me, a scarlet smudge stood out at the corner of her lips.
I rushed to her, falling to my knees as I panicked. I needed a healer. I needed Caliban. I needed Silas. But we weren’t on the neutral playing field of mortal grounds. I didn’t know if they could so much as come to Álfheimr, let alone help.
“Marlow…” My name came out garbled on her lips. The crimson stain spread as blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth down her chin. Her fingers tightened around thekatana as if to pull it out.
“Hold on,” I cried. I scrambled for the broach that remained firmly embedded between my waistband and my skin. I mumbled incoherently as I brought the object to my mouth and begged Fauna to listen to come, to help. I didn’t know if she could hear me, if it would work, if I was so much as speaking English as I cried against the metal object.
“Please,” Ella said quietly.
“I’m doing everything I can.” I tried to reassure her, tears spilling freely as I panicked. The sølje plopped to the mossy earth as I tried to stop the bleeding with my hands. She tugged on it, and I shushed her uselessly. “Don’t pull it out,” I commanded, though I wasn’t sure what convinced me to say so. I’d heard it said in movies enough to know an object might be preventing a victim from bleeding out. But those movies knew nothing of god-killers.
“Please,” she pressed on, “don’t waste this.” She slumped from her knees onto the ground. My tears spilled freely as I scooped her into my lap, trying and failing for any comforting thoughts, sounds, or motions.
“Please,” she repeated, “make this count for something.”
“No, no, no” came my helpless prayer. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”
But the sword had been thrown by a god. And nothing I could say or do would change that.
“Marlow.” Her soft fingers found my cheek. The smell of rust mingled with her sweet, natural perfume. She smiled weakly as she said, “How lucky am I to have found something worth dying for.”
I said her name through the pained strangulation of barbed wire.
And then I heard my name again. This time, the sound came from a familiar voice over my shoulder. I clutched Ella more tightly as I looked to see the flash of copper and white.
My heart squeezed, hope surging as Fauna descended. She was here. She could fix it. She could make this right.
“Help me,” I begged.
Fauna wordlessly moved my hands out of the way as she began to search the blade, her face arranged with intensity and focus. She didn’t so much as look at me while she worked. She looked between the weapon and the ruby blood on Ella’s lips just as the goddess’s eyes fluttered shut.
“It’s a god-killer,” I tried to say. I wasn’t sure how much was comprehensible as I trembled. My body shook with guilt and sorrow. “You have to help her, Fauna. You have to—”
And then I heard my name for the third time in Álfheimr.
“Marlow Thorson!” Estrid boomed.
It was with the vitriol and vibrations of the earth that the words bellowed across the mossy ground, shaking the very stones as a valkyrie stood mere feet away. Her face was bloodless. Her finger was extended in accusation. Her leathers moved with her as she slowly lowered her hand to her sword.
Kirby was nowhere to be found. Wherever they’d gone after they’d jumped, Estrid had left the human behind before following the bond that led her to her partner.
Hands stained red with Ella’s blood, Fauna got to her feet and moved between us.
“Estrid, this isn’t Marlow’s fault,” Fauna said with the low, hushed urgency of a lion tamer speaking to its rabid charge.
“This isonlyMarlow’s fault,” Estrid said acidly. Flames crackled behind her eyes as she shot a bloodthirsty look at me. Her voice dropped an octave as she asked, “Is she dead?”
Fauna planted her feet firmly between us. The silence was deafening as she squared her shoulders, lifting her chin.
