Tro (Elsker Saga Book 3) (17 page)

“It is far too nice a day to be indoors,” Ull drawled. He twirled his finger in the air, conjuring a table and chair on the opposite side of the garden wall—just outside Ýdalir and right in front of Loki.

“Have a seat, enjoy a refreshment.” Another twirl and a glass appeared on the table. Gravity of the situation aside, I was impressed. Manners and magic could commingle quite nicely.

“What brings you to Ýdalir, Loki?” Ull kept his voice calm. “One of Olaug’s famous apple pies, perhaps?”

“Enough of the pleasantries, Ull.” Loki stormed toward the gate, knocking the chair to the ground but stopping short when Ýdalir refused to let him in. “You know why I’m here. Your wife will be radiant spending eternity as a jotun bride. I told you I’d take you if it came to it, didn’t I, poppet?”

“Didn’t I already kill you twice?” I stared into his muddy eyes and held Ull’s arm back as he tensed to fight. “Ull, no. Don’t give him the opportunity.”

Ull relaxed, eyes still on guard, and we heard angry footsteps from inside the house. Our warriors had arrived. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Afraid to handle me on your own, Ull?” Loki’s mouth curved into a sinister smirk and he snapped his fingers. A girl appeared behind him, bound, gagged, and writhing in fear. “What about you, Kristia? Would you let your friend die for you?”

He motioned with his hand and the girl screamed in agony as the ropes pulled her violently from side to side, threatening to snap her slight frame. With a shock I looked into the eyes that had held a thousand of my confidences.

“Ardis!” I screamed, running unthinkingly beyond the boundary. It was stupid, and the moment I jumped over the stone fence I felt the protections of Ýdalir slipping behind me.

“Kristia!” Ull panicked. He was half a step behind me, leaping over the stone fence to tackle me to the ground. While he was still in the air, Loki snatched my wrist. I fought against him with all my strength, but I was as powerless as a tadpole in a tidal wave when he pulled me away. Ull hit the earth, grasping at the spot where I’d been.

“Kristia!” Ull let out an agonized cry and jumped to his feet. He charged after Loki, quickly closing the gap between us. I reached out for him but Loki was too fast, spinning out of his grasp and running for the trees at the edge of Bibury. His bony fingers bound my wrist tightly, cutting off the circulation in my hand. He dragged my body roughly behind him as he ran, and I screamed as I bounced off trees and rocks.

“Let go of me!” I hollered from the ground, the words coming out in gasps as my body pounded the damp earth. “Get your hands off me, you jerk! I killed you before; you know I can do it again!”

I tried to grab for my necklace, but Loki flung my body from side to side so quickly that I lost my bearings. The only sound I could hear was Loki’s maniacal laughter as he taunted Ull, who fell further behind.

“I have your bride now, Ull! Once we reach the border I can transport her to Jotunheim. Isn’t Odin severing it from the realms as we speak? You’ll never get her back. Just think how lovely she’ll look married to a jotun.” He spun me onto his front, and though I clawed at his throat and screeched into his ear I could not get away. He ran easily toward the border of Bibury.

I craned my neck and saw Ull behind us. A team of Asgard’s fiercest warriors sprinted after him, with Gunnar in the lead. My friend caught up to Ull, but they couldn’t close the space between us. I reached for my husband, and Loki bit my left wrist with such force I couldn’t lift it again. He wrapped long fingers around my right hand and wrenched me onto his back. I wanted to scream in frustration. It wasn’t possible that Ull and I had made our way through so much only to be separated by a crazed lunatic. My eyes started to gloss over and the world turned the faintest shade of red.

I might have been stuck to the back of a monster, heading to the depths of hell, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

Ull had taught me to assess my situation. I was still wrapped like an unwilling koala around Loki’s back, so mobility was limited. My left hand was bleeding—that weapon was out. But my right hand was strong as ever, albeit in the grasp of a sick half-jotun hell bent on killing us all. I flexed it as gently as I could. Loki was running so hard he didn’t notice. I opened my palm and dug my fingernails into Loki’s chest. My nails weren’t long, but they’d always been strong, and I clawed at his flesh with a force that would have made a mortal cry. God skin must have been thicker, because Loki just swatted at my hand like I was an annoying fly.
Great
.

He kept my legs bound at his waist with his other hand, and I kicked at his groin as hard as I could. He skillfully tilted his pelvis, but I kept kicking and eventually landed a vital blow. Loki stumbled, nearly dropping me as he doubled over in pain. I clawed at his chest harder, trying to rake my nails up to his eyes. He held my wrist tight—he was too strong for me, so I kicked again, hoping to land a second shot. If I could just slow him up enough for Ull to catch up, I might be able to save myself.

Loki glanced back and saw Ull closing the space between us. Loki swore at me, picked himself up and took off running again. His freakishly long fingers wrapped around my feet, binding my legs around his waist and rendering me immobile. But my head was free, and I opened my mouth and bit Loki’s ear so forcefully I had to spit out the chunk I took off.
Ew
. It didn’t stop him. He hissed as he ran, knocking me so hard upside my head that I blacked out for a moment.

I came to as Loki neared the trees. That’s when my sobs began in earnest. Ull had told me the trees were a transport delineation between this realm and the next—and once we crossed that border, Loki would be able to open a portal and take us to Jotunheim. I had fought and I had failed. My head spun and I saw a terrifying vision of my future.

“Bring me my wife!” Loki’s maniacal voice echoed through his castle.

I was forced to my feet by two enormous guards, one dragging me by my elbow and the other prodding me with the flat side of an oversized ice-pick. My wrists were cuffed together and my legs bound with heavy chains. And my outfit…even though it couldn’t have been more than thirty-degrees indoors, I wore a sleeveless turtleneck dress that barely covered my behind, and four-inch, pointy-toed stilettos.

This was so not the way a lady should be dressed.

The guards shoved me down a narrow hallway made entirely of ice. I skidded in my treacherous footwear and the sharp end of the ice-pick jabbed me in my side. My blood dripped as I walked, leaving a crimson trail of splatters on the glossy ice floor. It was a shame to dirty the hall, but I knew it would be cleaned by the time I reached Loki’s chamber. From all appearances, my captor did not tolerate untidiness.

The guard holding my elbow opened the tall ivory door at the end of the hall and shoved me through. I was in Loki’s bedchamber now, the dead last place I ever wanted to be. A four-poster bed covered in fur blankets stood in the center of the circular room, and windows framed in thick velvet curtains covered every wall. Loki stood beside an ancient desk, one hand on the ornate chair beside it. He wore a long, black robe and fur boots, and his dark hair was slicked back.

“You are dismissed.” Loki waved at his guards and crossed to me. He stroked my cheek with one bony finger, and I turned my head to avoid his touch. Just the sight of him made me want to empty the contents of my stomach all over his pristine ice floor.

“Shall I undo your chains so you can join me in my quarters, wife? Or will you be sleeping in your cell again?”

I lifted my chin. “I’ll never be your wife.”

“But you already are, poppet,” Loki hissed. He grabbed my left hand and thrust it in front of my face. I had no choice but to stare at the grotesque black stone that sat where Ull’s exquisite ring had been. “Or don’t you remember our special bond?”

“There’s no bond, you cretin. I’m Ull’s, and nothing will ever change that.” I turned on one stilettoed heel and strode toward the door.

“Ah, there’s the fighting spirit I so enjoy in my bride.” Loki snapped his fingers and I flew unwittingly to his side. It was a dance we’d done every night since my capture, and I knew exactly how it would end: with me chained in the frozen cell adjacent to Loki’s bedroom, crying myself to sleep. Remembering my life with Ull gave me the strength to get through every day of this nightmare. I prayed continually for a miracle—some connection to whatever realm Ull was in. But none came.

“I hate you.” I struggled against Loki’s touch. He wrapped his arms around me and breathed down my neck.

“Ahh, but I’m all you have, sweet Kristia. You may as well resign yourself to your fate. You’re never going home. Odin severed Jotunheim from the realms this afternoon.”

I gasped. “He wouldn’t.”

“He did,” Loki seethed. “He held off long enough for my army to take down five full units of his warriors, but eventually he had to give up. Severing the realm was the only way to protect his precious Asgard. And Ull? I sent two of my assassins for him at noon. I’m sorry, my pet, he didn’t make it.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, ignoring the sudden ache in my stomach. There could be no world without Ull—he was my reason for breathing, my absolute everything, and if he didn’t exist…

A black void filled my gut, rose up my throat, and took over my brain. Everything went dark and the ground dropped out below me. I stumbled, trying to catch my balance. The darkness threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought it off. Ull wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. And even though Ull was…gone…I owed it to our love to make him proud.

“Go to Helheim, Loki.” I squared my shoulders and looked Loki in the eye, then I reared my head back and brought it down hard on his collar bone. The crack of its fracture was satisfying enough to ease the pain in my forehead.

“Oh, Kristia.” Loki cackled, waving his hand across his chest and healing the break. “Such a shame to dirty that lovely face.”

He lifted my chin and I glared at him, blinking the blood out of my eyes. I’d cut myself badly, and now Loki wasn’t even injured. Son of a—

“Just embrace your future.” Loki swept his arm around the room, bringing it to rest on my waist. “And don’t you
ever
try a stunt like that again.” He slapped me hard across the face. My jaw burned, the surface pain distracting me from the black hole of agony swelling in my chest.

“I hate you,” I said again, bringing my cuffed hands as far apart as I could and striking Loki. The chain left a nasty red mark, but Loki waved one finger across his cheek and healed himself.

“And I hate you.” Loki brought a fist down on my head, knocking me to the ground. I struck my temple on the arm of the chair as I fell, and waves of nausea overtook me as the room blurred.

“Someone will come,” I lisped through semi-consciousness. “Inga or Gunnar—”

“Both dead, my pet. My assassins couldn’t leave any witnesses, now, could they? And that old woman? She was the first to go.”

Olaug.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The ice-covered ground was so cool against my cheek. It soothed my burning flesh. My temple throbbed, my gut ached, and my head felt like it had been pierced with a thousand burning blades
. Inga, Gunnar, Olaug. All dead because of me. And Ull…my beloved Ull…

I gave in to the darkness, not caring that the ice of the floor was burning my skin. I was going to spend an eternity in this desolate wasteland. But whatever the horrors of Jotunheim, being without Ull would be the worst part.

My existence was completely and totally hopeless
.

I shook myself out of the vision, my tears falling in torrents. Loki’s crazed laughter rang clear as we reached the trees. “Goodbye, my friends!”

As Loki raised his arm to take us to my personal hell, I looked for my husband one last time.
I love you
, I mouthed in his general direction. I couldn’t see well enough through my tears to find his face.

As I formed the words, something hard tackled us. It hurt, and I knew Loki had made his escape—Ull had told me transports between the realms could be painful. But when I felt the dirt under my back, and smelled that woodsy scent I was all too familiar with, I knew I was going to be okay.

Until the bleeding began.

“No!” Loki shrieked. “We should be in Jotunheim. Not Asgard!”

“And yet, here you are.” Ull’s voice came from somewhere nearby. I turned my head and saw him a good twenty yards off, lying face down at the base of a tree. He pawed the ground, struggling to stand. Something had gone horribly wrong in his transport—he could barely move.

“Ull!” I cried out.

While I reached for Ull, Loki scrambled to his feet, stepping hard on my abdomen in the process. All the air expelled from my lungs and I lay on the ground, sucking frantically at the dusty air. Loki kicked my torso with one steel-toed boot, putting a fast end to my pathetic attempt to breathe. I inhaled desperately, but nothing happened—it felt as if there was a giant lead ball blocking my throat. Loki kicked me again and the ball dropped to my stomach, a whole new level of pain, but at least I could breathe. I gulped down air with all the dignity of a wide-mouthed bass. I didn’t know when I’d get another chance.

I rolled to my side, clawing at the dirt in an effort to pull myself up. My chest felt like an area rug on cleaning day, but I wasn’t going to let this beating be the end of me. Problem was, my legs wouldn’t work. They shook as I tried to pull myself up, so I pushed up on one arm and resolved to defend myself from the ground.

As I raised my arm to clothesline his ankle, Loki brought the heel of his boot down on my injured wrist.

“Arugh!” I hadn’t meant to cry out, but the pain was too intense. Were there cleats on that thing?