“Yes,” I said, though I was unsure if I trusted her.
She leaned to my ear, her hair spilling on my shoulder. “Your job is to help get your party to Scardark.”
“They know the place,” I interrupted her. “Ittisana lived there. Thak, I think, is from there as well. I’ll tag along. Why—”
“Thak is from there,” she said. “You will help them. I trust you. I trust you, because you tell me plain when I’m wrong, and do not hide your frowns or complaints. I trust you, because we are both still of the Ten Tears. Ulrich, your nobility gives me comfort, and to know you are out there, fighting for me, a man so just? A man who saved me once and twice before?”
I smiled softly. “Are you manipulating me?”
She squeezed my shoulder. “A bit. But trust me in this. I might be the dead Queen of Aldheim, Hand of Hel, but I can still be reasoned with. Reason with me after we have the Horn.”
“Where,” I asked her, “is the gate to Nifleheim, so we can return the Horn? Or the one to Asgaard, if you decide to—”
“Patience,” she said and moved to stand next to me. “We have news. Plenty of news.”
“I saw someone rush out of the gate,” I said. “What did they tell you?”
She hesitated. “They?
He.
He told me what I needed to know. He gave me hope. A longshot in the wind, but still possible. What are you willing to do for the Horn?”
I shut my mouth as soon as I opened it. “I’ll not kill innocents. I’m not a draugr.” I hesitated. “And I’m not sure I’ll kill Dana. But I’ll help with the plan, as long as I don’t kill people who don’t deserve it.”
She rubbed her face. “Deserve it? This is war. Nothing is more important than the Horn. Not your honor, not a thousand innocents, and gods know what they are. Innocents, or just weak?” She slammed her hand on the arm of her chair. “And Dana is
not
innocent.”
I growled back. “She is weak, then. And I don’t go out to kill the weak, either. I’m not going to be an assassin. I’ll do much, but not everything. I’m not Strife.” Strife, the elf who had been twin to her first husband. The evil bastard had been everything she had loathed.
“Strife?” she whispered. “You know how to hurt me. I’m not Strife either. Everything I do has a higher purpose.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t.
She glowered at me for a while and then spoke. “And will you refuse to help them, if the situation—”
“It’s situational,” I said stubbornly. “I’ll help with the Horn. But I won’t be an animal.”
She looked away, and if she were alive, I was sure she’d cry. She couldn’t. Instead, she waved her hand. “Very well, Ulrich. So be it. We have to be careful with
you
, anyway. If the dragon catches you, it will scourge your mind. It will peel it open like it would an egg, and there are no secrets with that thing. So, I’ll not share the full plan with you.”
I stared at her. “Why? Because I’m not a lapdog to Hel?”
“Be careful,” she said and pointed a bone-white finger my way. “Do not push too far. Yes. Partly because you don’t trust me. Partly because of what I just said. It’s been inside my head. That dragon. Only Kiera will know the full plan.”
“I take it her mind cannot be ripped apart by the beast?”
“No,” she said. “Here it is. You shall go to Svartalfheim. You’ll help us gain the Horn. And I shall not tell you
how
we get into Scardark. In there, you shall not hold back and will help us in every way you can, unless,” she sneered, “it goes against your honor. But it won’t. Not in Scardark.”
“Will you at least tell me about the Horn? Where is it?”
“Hear for yourself,” she said and turned. She snapped her fingers and a shadow moved. Out of the darkness walked a curious looking svartalf. He had silver hair, he was quite short and had golden eyes. Many kinds of daggers hung from his belt, and he was wearing black, studded leathers. His skin was black as night, and he smiled widely as he approached me.
“He needs to know you,” Shannon said. “Show your true face.”
He snapped his fingers and in an eye blink, his skin was white as snow. “She is right. Best show myself as I truly am. No secrets amongst friends, eh?” Around his finger there glowed a small golden loop and I guessed he had an artifact. Probably many. He walked near Shannon, and I got up and backed off so I could see both, unsure how one greeted a svartalf. The svartalf bowed with the grace of a dancer, and I returned the gesture with much less grace.
“I am Ulrich,” I said. “And—”
He waved his hand. “I know who you are.” His eyes went to the Bone Fetter burning in my forearm. There was a look of covetous greed on his face, which he quickly hid. Did he covet the fetter?
No.
He saw
me
as a useful toy.
“And to make this fair, who are you?” I asked and glanced at Shannon with worry. “And why does the Queen trust you?”
The elf snorted and sat down on the desk, his dagger getting caught on the edge. He wrestled it off the belt, and kept smiling at my fetter. “A
human
who can see the fiery rivers of Muspelheim,” he snorted. “A human who Sees the Shades. A miracle.”
I laughed. “No miracle. Euryale—”
“But then,” he interrupted, pricking the dagger on his thumb, drawing blood. “I’ve seen another. When they came back from this horrible mess, there
was
another.”
I knew he was talking about Dana. Shannon didn’t move, but I sensed her patience with the svartalf was growing thin. “Where is she?” I asked. “This other one.”
“First things first,” the svartalf said, and grasped a bottle of golden wine from the table. He appraised it with his eyes, used the dagger to twist the top off, and leaned back after an experimental sniff. His face was crinkled and then euphoric. He sighed and took a swig of the potent stuff, and his face was actually sweating, but I had rarely seen anyone so happy. He coughed and handed the bottle over to me. “Breath of Nax,” he said, gasping. “The best stuff there is.” I looked at Shannon, who declined the drink, probably raging inside for her inability to enjoy such treats. I hesitated, and took it, but didn’t drink. “My name is Itax. Of House of No Name.” He winked. He was a rogue of some sort. “Slaves, information,” he added as he saw my eyes widen. “Even the Vastness and Scardark need such as we.”
“I see,” I said. “And why would you help—” I turned my face to the room next door. “Ah.”
“Yes,” he smiled. “That is right. It is gold that runs the Nine Worlds, and gold is what we must collect to play the game, eh? Yes?” He frowned at my icy silence. “And I get something more than gold, but I’ll not share the details with you. I’m here to sell my services. Shannon has a need. What she needs is nearly impossible, but not quite. Not quite at all.” He handed her a blue bag the size of his palm. It was empty. “It only fits one. One.”
Shannon nodded gratefully and hid it. She spoke with anger tingling in her voice. “An expensive bag. But do go on.”
Itax got up from the table. The ring glinted again. His figure shifted for just a moment, and I remembered the way he had avoided the spells of the svartalf’s.
I poked him with the bottle.
He wasn’t there.
I pushed back and fell on my back, rolling on the dust and into Shannon’s feet. The svartalf appeared at my side, and smiled widely, the dagger twirling between his fingers. “Well, you aren’t a total fool.” He frowned at the remains of the bottle. “Though you have no appreciation for a good drink.” He winked at me. “I’m well protected.”
“He’s not a fool, only a human with a huge sense of honor,” Shannon agreed with a smile. “He’ll do his bit; no matter how many doubts he might have.”
Itax drew the chair up for me, and slapped it. Hesitating, I sat down again, keeping the svartalf in sight. He deftly removed the ring and replaced it, and I was sure he’d not be where I now saw him.
The ring was the cause of his displacement skill, and probably the way he altered some of his features,
I thought.
A dangerous svartalf
. “What are we going to do?”
He walked back to the desk and sat down on it again. “As the mistress here said, neither she nor I will share the plan with you lot. Only Kiera shall know it.” He hesitated and Shannon nodded at him heavily and he went on. “But here is what you need to know. In three Aldheim days, you must be at the gates of Scardark. It won’t be easy. The tunnels are dangerous. The Way of Echo’s is a warzone. There are the Eight that fight over the land. The game of Ruugatha … Have you heard of this?”
I nodded. “There are families and nobles forever trying to knock off the king or the queen. If they manage, the rest of the fallen house belongs to them, or some flee. It’s some game Nött devised. Stheno rules the high seat. She sits on Nött’s throne, and holds the Scepter of Night, whatever it does. And she is a First Born, and not an easy one to topple from the Throne.”
Shannon smiled from the side and mocked me gently. “See, it was a worthy visit to the Haven.”
Itax smiled dreamily. “Golden books. Gems and treasures. I wish I could spend a day or two there,” he muttered and bowed apologetically. “You are right. Stheno is the Queen. Has been for thousands of years. But now, for the first time since Hel’s War, perhaps her shapely rear isn’t on a very stable seat. Your Queen here upset the plans to take Aldheim, and now, she is fighting to keep Svartalfheim.” He smiled at Shannon. “Twenty thousand svartalfs dead right here. Some kings even. More, if you count the slaves. I lost some of my operatives. Imagine! A clan of Jotuns died, and one was a king! The Dark Water maidens were butchered in their hundreds. Yes, many elves died as well.” He grinned at the thought of the chaos. “Stheno is now facing a rebellion.”
“A rebellion?” I asked. “Who rebelled?”
“Wait,” Itax said. “I—”
“Where is Dana?” I pressed him.
He played with his nails, frowning. “Patience, you bearded gutter rat. Dana? This other human I mentioned? She had that,” he said and nodded at my Bone Fetter. “She jumped in and was taken by Stheno’s guards. She made a mistake.”
“She’s made many,” I cursed.
“Indeed. But instead of bowing to Stheno, she tried to escape. She didn’t get far, not even with her vast powers. Her spell was formidable. You know, that fiery wave? Yes, you do. She killed some dozen guards.” He grabbed another bottle, and handed it to me. “She fought Stheno.”
I looked at Shannon.
Dana was not all evil.
“How did it go?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Stheno holds the Scepter of Night. It is much like the dagger there.” He nodded towards the Famine. “It has huge power inside. Huge. And it grants the wielder many skills. It absorbs spells, for one. Mighty spells.”
“Shit,” I whispered. “Why didn’t Stheno use it during the battle of the White Court? She was there.”
Itax smirked. “She lost her nerve as Euryale died. Even the First Born can fuck up. She wanted to come back, though not that day.”
I took the bottle, and he smiled. “Go on,” I said impatiently.
He clicked his fingernails together. “Well, Stheno nullified Dana’s spell and grasped her. She took the Horn from her. Then she tried to reorganize the army. She probably thought about taking the war back in, but she changed her mind, and decided to call out all her armies. We heard her curse very loudly. She wept for her sister. Then something happened.”
“The Dragon?” I asked.
The Masked One. He had followed, hours later.
“The Dragon, indeed,” Itax agreed. “Haven’t seen one in ages. And I know the Masked One. He lived there ages ago. With Hel’s War, most of them disappeared. Some betrayed Nött for Hel and others fled to faraway lands. But Masked One was back. He’s really upset the Vastness this time. Stheno got surprised when he ripped out of that gate. Stheno was about to close it for the time being. She had the Horn, of course, and she raised it to her lips, hoping to regroup for a new attack later on. She was now the gatekeeper, the mighty one, and even if Aldheim is what they always craved with Euryale—”
“You know a lot,” I breathed.
He looked bored. “I do. It’s my job. It’s what I sell, buy, and trade, sometimes indiscriminately.” He glanced at Shannon and shuddered with uncertainly and just a hint of nervousness as my friend stared at him without a word. He waved his hand. “But now I only work for the mistress here, of course.” He leaned to me. “Did you know they stole the Eye? Euryale? Cut it out with that very blade.” He nodded at Famine covetously. “They betrayed the gods as well. But their youngest sister, Medusa fought for Hel. She was—”
Shannon slapped her hands together. “Get on with it.”
Itax bowed. “My apologies. I’m a fool with a big mouth. There was a huge surprise, when that thing barreled out of the hole right when Stheno was about to blow the horn. They say dragons are all fire and mayhem.”
I waited, he frowned.
“Well, are they?” I asked, exasperated.
He smiled. “Not so much fire than fear. It ripped into Stheno and then the army behind her. Hundreds died as it tossed Stheno through the ranks and raged into them. Then it raised itself to its full height, and let loose a spell of terror. It struck such absolute fear into hundreds of svartalf warriors, they all fled. Some fell dead, breathless, their hearts broken. Others turned to fight their kin in their fear. I think some might be still fleeing.” He smiled at the thought. “There were kings and queens around Stheno. Many of the mighty cities of Vastness were presented. The dragon saw them, and cast another spell, a complicated, evil spell. A queen, and another king fell on their knees, breaking their oaths to Scardark. But the dragon wanted King of Ban, especially. He conquered his mind with that spell after a mighty struggle and the second mightiest city was suddenly his. Ruugatha without blood.”