Still, that gave me an idea.
There was one thing I hadn’t tried. With a little finesse, it might work.
I waved at the runes on my doorframe, magically locking it. Then, I pulled off my shirt and traced kaun. The rune glowed on my chest, and instantly, flames erupted from the tips of my fingers. I held my hands before me, fire flickering along my palms, around my wrists. The heat warmed my face.
I’d remove the blasted circlet the hard way.
I raised my hands towards my head, and the helm began to hum, buzzing with malevolent magic. I gritted my teeth. The pain would be excruciating, but I had to try. Once I melted the metal, its power would fade, and I would be free. Then I could save Ali, become the king I was fated to be.
I moved my blazing fingers closer to the helm.
Without warning, a jolt of magic staggered me, like a giant hand was squeezing my skull. My body vibrated from the pain, muscles tensing all over.
The air smelled of ozone; I tasted gasoline on my tongue. But worst of all was the voice that tolled in my mind—Gorm’s voice intoning the words of the oath I’d made to him.
I pledge my life, my ambitions….
Oaths could be made, but they could also be broken. This was a crime against the gods, but they were dead now. And Ali’s life meant more to me than an oath.
I began chanting kaun over and over. Magic poured out of me, and my hands blazed like the sun. The trick was to melt the helm without touching it.
A second blast of magic hit me between the eyes, dead center of my frontal cortex. My room disappeared in a flash of searing agony. Waves of pain contracted my muscles.
Wavering figures stood over me, shimmering like desert mirages. Gorm and Revna. My sister was reaching for me, trying to stroke my chest. “You are bound to me forever,” she whispered.
I pressed my hands against the crown.
I will be free.
Pain engulfed me, vibrating down my limbs, contracting each one of my muscles as my body burned. I was sure I was swimming under the surface of the sun. Agony ripped my consciousness apart, until the only clear thought in my mind was Ali.
Then, the pain faded, and I opened my eyes.
I lay on the stone floor of my room. The rune on my chest had turned black, smoking. I drew in several deep, gasping breaths. Slowly, my vision sharpened.
I lifted one of my hands. Smoke rose from my fingertips.
Had it worked? I staggered to my feet and stepped in front of my mirror.
My collarbone was charred, my hair singed, but on my head—shining, metallic, and completely intact—remained the Helm of Awe.
Except … it felt just a little weaker now. I hadn’t pulled it off, and it still controlled me. But I was certain I’d damaged its power.
And if there was one thing every sorcerer knew, it was that every spell had a weakness. A fatal flaw.
More than ever, I was certain I would find a way to rid myself of the helm. It was my destiny.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Someone knocked on my door. At this hour, it had to be a guard with a request from my father. Then, a second thought occurred to me—could the helm have warned him that I’d managed to damage it?
I pulled on a shirt, covering the smoking rune on my chest before going to the door. When I cracked it open, a petite, cloaked figure slipped past me, into my room.
“You can’t come in here—” I began. Then the figure turned, and I gasped.
It wasn’t possible. And yet it was. That delicate jawline, the soft lips, the silver hair peeking out from under the hood, the bright silver eyes. My heart slammed against my ribs.
Ali had come to me.
“How did you—”
“Shhh,” She lifted a finger to her lips. Then, she rushed for me.
I wrapped my arms around her small body, one hand on her lower back, the other pressing her head to my chest. I felt like my heart might explode with relief. She was soft, warm, and smelled of jasmine and dark chocolate. She looked healthy enough, not starving as I’d feared.
I spoke to her in a quiet voice, attempting to rush through an explanation: “I wasn’t able to come to you. The helm has kept me from leaving the Citadel. I’ve been working to remove it, but the magic is stronger than I expected.”
Silver eyes gleaming, she touched my cheek. When she pulled open her cloak, I found that she was wearing a sheer silver dress that showed off every curve of her body—her delicate waist, perfect breasts. I slid my gaze down her form, my blood roaring in my ears.
Desire ignited. And yet … somehow, rational thought intruded. “How did you get here? The Citadel is full of guards. It’s not safe for you—”
“I’m a trained assassin,” she said with a smile.
“That’s not enough of an explanation.”
“The Lords sent me to you. They know you want to help us.” Gently, she pushed away from me, but she still let her cloak fall open, rendering me practically mute. “Tell me what Gorm’s weakness is. What can we use against him?”
I had to tear my eyes away from her just so I could concentrate. I looked out the window as I gathered my thoughts. “Have you been chosen for the Winnowing?” I asked, stealing another look at her.
She shrugged, her silver hair falling in her eyes. “Galin, please, I don’t have much time.”
“But are you getting enough to eat, Ali? I heard about the blight.”
“What’s his weakness?”
Vaguely, I wondered why she’d come here in that transparent dress if she wanted answers, because it was deeply distracting. All I could think of was lifting it up around her waist and wrapping her legs around me. The effects of the magic zapping my brain seemed to have put me in a haze, but Ali’s beauty wasn’t making it any easier to think.
With a great deal of effort, I said, “Gorm believes that a king must lead with fear and violence. He will always take the most vicious, most brutal approach to any problem.”
“And you can use that against him?”
“Just put him in a situation where his desire for blood is in opposition with his need for restraint. He’ll overextend every time.”
“Ah,” Ali breathed. “And what of your sister, Revna? Doesn’t she advise him now?”
“She does, but her desire for blood is even greater than my father’s. He’s the one with restraint, not her.”
“Why does Gorm hate the Night Elves so much?” she pressed.
I frowned as I thought over the thousand-plus years I’d known my father. “He’s always spoken of how he hates the Night Elves. Even when I was a boy, before Ragnarok, he talked constantly of killing them. I think he blamed them for any problems in Elfheim. They were always scapegoats.”
I turned to look at her again, my pulse racing. I didn’t want to talk any longer.
I stalked closer to her. She backed up against the wall, looking up at me, and I pressed my hands to the stone behind her head. As I leaned in, my eyes were on her lips.
She held her hand up, stopping me from kissing her.
I turned my face slightly. “Ali, how did you get here? And tell me if you are part of the Winnowing.”
“I am.”
A protective fire burned in me. I’d have to kill my own kind to keep her safe. “Ali, most who fight in a Winnowing die. “