Chapter 1
Ali
I crouched at the forest’s edge, my attention focused outward, away from the reassuring darkness. I was scanning Vanaheim’s great plains, looking for the return of my men in my new kingdom. I’d sent three out on a scouting party to the west. Now, as the shadows grew longer and the sky tinged with red, my stomach clenched. Something had gone wrong.
Swegde, the former Regent of the Vanir, crouched next to me. He wore buckskin trousers and a black vest that exposed thick, muscular forearms. His dark hair draped over enormous shoulders. Of course, he was armed to the teeth. A short sword on one hip, a hunting knife strapped to the other, and slung over his back a bow and quiver full of arrows. He was ready for anything—and anything could happen.
“Where are they?” I asked. “They said noon, it’s nearly sundown. They should be back by now.”
He glanced at me for just a second. “Don’t worry about them. Worry about your knife-throwing skills. Practice in your mind.”
I sighed. “We’ve been practicing nonstop, Swegde. I think I’m good.”
“We will be moving on to bear wrestling soon. As Empress of the Vanaheim, you must be skilled at bear wrestling. Focus on that.”
My forehead wrinkled. “But—why?”
“It’s a Vanir custom. We’ve been over this. You killed the Emperor, now you must fill his role. Wrestling bears is part of that. Don’t question it.”
I leaned against an oak trunk. Usually, I liked it here in the shadows. The forest reminded me of the Shadow Caverns, the caves where I’d spent my childhood. The massive oaks formed a canopy so thick it nearly blocked out the sun, and the air hung still and heavy with the scent of ferns.
I walked every day among the ancient trees—collecting the little golden chanterelles that grew on rotting stumps, listening to the sounds of tiny animals scurrying unseen in the gloom. I searched the dark places for pixies and fairies.
Here, I felt at home. Almost at ease.
Almost, but not quite.
Because always, I carried a sharp gnawing emptiness—the hole that Galin had left when he disappeared.
I pushed the memory of him deep under the surface, trying not to let myself feel that pain. It was a pain that shouldn’t exist, anyway. I’d severed our mating bond. There was no reason for me to feel anything at all.
Swegde had drilled into my head that as Empress, you had to separate your emotions from the business of ruling. He wasn’t wrong about that. What good would it do to pine over someone? None at all.
Beyond the trees, wind rippled the tall grasses like waves on an ocean. Birds flew in and out of the blowing fronds, collecting stems and leaves to build their nests. Great herds of bison and horses grazed in the distance. While I loved the dark comfort of the forest, the Vanir loved the grasslands. The fields provided food for our herds of cattle and horses, a place to run and ride.
But when I walked in them, I only felt exposed, like some massive eagle might swoop down at any moment and carry me away. Even now I could see a kettle of vultures circling in the late afternoon sun. Creepy as Hel.
They were growing more numerous, revolving in an ever-widening gyre of black wings.
“Those are vultures, right?” I said. “Do you think there’s something dead out there?”
Swegde nodded. “One of the horses, most likely. They break their legs in prairie dog holes.”
I stared at the vultures as they glided in great circles, round and round, their movements almost hypnotic. More of them now than even a few seconds ago.
“Are there usually this many?”
“No—” Swegde began, but I held up a finger, cutting him off. I’d heard a noise.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?” he whispered.
I heard it again. The sky was blue as a robin’s egg, but it sounded like thunder.
Swegde frowned, even as I squinted, staring across the plain, past the waving grass, to a dark shadow on the horizon. The hair on my arms stiffened. It hadn’t been there last time I’d looked.
“Do you see it? There’s something out there.”
Swegde’s eyes followed the path of my finger. “You’re right. Looks like a herd of buffalo.”
The sound grew louder, like thunder, but more guttural. “Is that what buffalo sound like?” I asked.
Swegde stared fixedly at the blotch of darkness, growing larger and closer.
“The scouting party are on horseback, right?” Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it wasn’t them. I’d only sent out three men, and this looked like a whole battalion.
Swegde nodded. “Yes, but that’s not what we’re looking at.” He was squinting hard, his lips pressed together.
“So, Buffalo?” I asked, trying to prompt Swegde to elaborate.
“No …” Swegde said slowly. “Buffalo don’t move like that. It’s men …”
I stared hard this time, trying to bring whatever it was into focus. Still too far. Then I heard the sound again, a great guttural cry, and fear caught my breath.
I knew exactly what I was looking at. It was men, all right—just not living ones. Barreling towards us was a great horde of draugr.
“Look.” Swegde pointed to a speck, just in front of the charging undead.
The fear became ice in my veins. In front of the horde was a lone elf, running at a dead-out sprint.
“It’s him,” I said, jumping up. “We have to help.”
I called Skalei to me, and charged into the plain.
I could hear the draugr calling now, their raspy voices in a full hunting chorus. In front of them raced the elf, hood over his head, cloak flying out behind him. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew exactly who he was. And I had to get to him.
The draugr barreled after him, ravenous. Even as I ran towards him, I could tell that he wouldn’t make it. The undead were simply too fast, too untiring. I had to do something.
Still sprinting, I drew Levateinn, Loki’s wand. A weapon of the gods. Gripping it tightly, I tried to scribe a portal spell, but I was also running dead out. I missed a downward stroke and the spell sputtered, nothing more than a crackling burst of sparks. Balls.
I looked to the running elf. The draugr were almost upon him. I had to focus. Focusing was the only way I was going to save him.
Heart hammering, I skidded to a stop, then traced the spell precisely. My chest unclenched a little as a portal appeared in front of me. I leapt through.
I appeared a few feet in front of the elf I knew so well—and a few hundred feet in front of the draugr.
“Keep going!” I shouted, catching his eye. “I’ll hold them off.”
The draugr were bearing down on me, an army of the dead. I could hear their cries, smell the stench of their rotting bodies. If they got to me, they’d tear me to pieces. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
Holding Levateinn in front of me like a sword, I planted my feet. Focusing, I slashed the shape of the rune kaun. I felt power build in the wand, and then a great gout of flame burst forth. The draugr’s hunting cries turned to rasping screams as the fire tore into them. Their bodies blazed for a few moments, then burst like rancid fireworks.
But this horde was massive—more draugr than I’d ever seen in my life.