The Vanir and the High Elves were still deadlocked in a tie. If the Vanir could still win the final tiebreaker—with me at the helm—freedom would be ours at last. My mind was whirling a million miles a minute, but I had to get control, immediately.
Swallowing hard, I raised myself to my full height. I schooled my features into a serene expression. “Do not speak to your Empress that way, witch,” I said firmly. “And do not doubt me. I stabbed your Emperor in the heart. He was dead before he began to burn. You have sent assassins after me twice, and you personally tried to kill me on the practice field. All three attempts failed.”
A hush fell over the hall.
The seidkona’s eyes widened. “But she is a Night Elf!”
“The law is clear,” said the Regent. “And we will not amend it. She killed the Emperor and withstood three trials. The Night Elf is heir to the realm.”
Hope swelled within my chest like a sea breeze filling a sail.
In a rush, the Vanir warriors surrounded me, shouting my name and banging their swords on their shields. The noise was deafening, but I had to focus. We still had a Winnowing to win.
“Stop!” I said.
Immediately, they fell silent.
“You accept me as your Empress?” I asked.
“Yes!” the warriors shouted in unison.
“We are at your service!” someone shouted.
“Our lives are yours,” said another.
I locked eyes with the Regent. I knew the seidkona wasn’t about to let this go. “We must speak in private. In an hour. And between now and then, I want you to send warriors to look for Galin.”
An hour later, I was sitting in the Emperor’s chambers dressed in fresh clothes: black leather pants and a dark silver shirt.
I sat at an oak table by a window that overlooked rolling fields. On the table before me was wine, hot venison stew, and a salad of tomatoes and dandelion greens. I was starving, but before I could bring myself to eat, I needed answers.
“What is the news of Galin?” I asked the Regent, my heart hammering.
The Regent shook his head. “He has not been found. At your request, one of our warriors flew to the bottom of the well. He retrieved the body of one of our men, but that is all. Galin, it seems, did not fall to his death.”
I loosed a sigh. Good. Now, my stomach started rumbling, and I dug into the rich meal. Gods, it was amazing. “And you locked the seidkona away, right?”
“As you commanded, Empress,” said the Regent. “But these are not the most pressing matters.”
I beg to differ.
He shook his head again. “We need to make your position as Empress official. We must arrange for a coronation.”
“Why?”
“It will ensure your safety. The Vanir will not touch you once you are crowned.”
I felt blindsided, my mind still on the Winnowing. I didn’t feel like an empress—still like a soldier who had a final battle ahead of me. “Can we make this coronation fast? After the ceremony is over, we must prepare for our final trial with the High Elves. We must win the Winnowing. Can we go down to the throne room and do this coronation now?”
“There is no throne room, Empress. Your power comes from the land—from Vanaheim’s mountains, plains, and forests. You must ask them personally that they recognize you as Empress. Then, you will be secure.”
I sighed. “How exactly does that happen?”
Eight great stones ringed us. Nearly as tall as the treetops, they towered over the grass of the meadow. Beyond them, the verdant forest stretched out over rolling hills. It had rained recently, and I could smell the fresh pine and wet earth. Clouds hung low above us, misty and gray. The air was completely still. It felt like the world was holding its breath. Waiting for what was to come next.
Meanwhile, impatience was rising within me, my mind still on the Citadel.
The Regent stood before me, his cloak pulled tight. He held a simple wooden crown in his hand. With a slight nod, he indicated that I should kneel. Then, holding the crown above me, he spoke in a clear voice.
“Astrid, daughter of Volundar. With this crown, you become Empress of the Vanir. You take up the mantle once worn by our gods: Freyja, Freyr, and Njord.”
The Regent placed the crown on my head. And at that moment, I felt a surge of power within me, like a light piercing the darkness. I forgot about the Citadel, the Winnowing, about the caverns. Warmth and light beamed down my body, filling my limbs, my bones. I knew it then, down to my marrow. Strange as it seemed, this was my destiny. I felt myself melding with the land—the lush green forests, the undulating hills and the golden sunlight. The spirits of Vanaheim were calling to me, whispering around me, filling me with joy.
When I opened my eyes again, the memory of the Night Elves rushed back into me. And I started to understand. I would lead them here. This could be our home. As Night Elves, we would live in the real light of the moon and stars, under an open night sky. I would join our two kingdoms.
“Now, rise, Empress of Vanaheim, and meet your people.”
I stood slowly, but I saw no people, just the ringstones. What people? For some reason, my heart was pounding in my chest. Not exactly fear, but something close to it. I stole a glance at the Regent. He was still as a statue.
Then, I saw it: a low fog creeping out from between the trees. It drifted over the grass of the meadow, slipping like water between the stones. I shivered as mist wound around my ankles.
The mist thickened, and the light dimmed. Cold, damp air slid over my skin.
The crown felt heavy on my head.
Around me, the colors of the forest faded; the smell of the pines vanished. The only thing I could see was the ring of stones looming above me. Under my feet, the soft grasses turned hard.
A footstep crunched on gravel.
“Empress.” It was a new voice, cracked and brittle.
From between the stones stepped an ancient crone. She was tall and bony, with white hair that fell in thin wisps to her shoulders. She wore a ragged gray dress, and a small rucksack was slung over her shoulder. Slowly, she shuffled towards me, towering over me.
“Are you a seidkona?” I asked, nerves sparking.
“My name is long forgotten.” The crone fixed me with a pair of shining blue eyes.
I stiffened. They were the exact same color Galin’s had been when he’d been a lich.
The old woman smiled. “You have nothing to fear from me, dear. I am here to help you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You are the new leader of the Vanir, the first Empress in a thousand years. You’ll need all the help you can get, correct?”
Cautiously, I asked, “What are you offering?”
The crone’s smile widened. “I’m offering the thing you most desire. A chance to start fresh. A clean slate.”
“Why?” If there was one thing I'd learned, it was that nothing was simply free.
“Because the leader of the Vanir cannot be encumbered. The ruler of the realm must be unbound. Don’t you know who I am now?”
I frowned. “No idea.”
“Silly girl. You’ve been looking for me. And now that I’m finally here, you don’t recognize me?”
I stared at the crone, completely confused.
She grinned, revealing a row of gray teeth. “Think hard, dearie. You’re a clever girl.”