A stream of silver magic unspooled from the end of Levateinn. It struck the dead goddess in the center of her chest, spreading over her like liquid metal. It didn’t drip downwards as a normal fluid would. Instead, it flowed in all directions, along her arms, under her dress. It pooled at her feet even as it slid up her neck.
Around me, the shades whispered with growing excitement.
Liquid silver continued to flow from the end of Levateinn, washing over the goddess now, seeming to bathe her in metal. I stared, awestruck as the magic began to work. A strange elation filled my heart at the idea that a god would be alive again.
The movement began in her feet—the frozen muscles of the goddess’s toes unclenching. Next were her fingers, trembling on the arms of the obsidian throne. Still, it came as a surprise when her entire body moved. A giant spasm that threw her head back against the throne.
“Yes!” screamed Ganglati, floating next to me. “My queen returns.”
I clutched Levateinn with all my strength, staring at what was unfolding before me. The stream of silver had become a rush of power that filled the desiccated goddess with magic.
Hela’s corpse spasmed again, and again, until she was literally thrashing on her throne. Around me, the shades were shouting, their wispy bodies twisting and churning in the air. They surrounded their queen until all I could see was the occasional shimmer of silver beneath their frantically hovering forms. Magic vibrated over the room.
Then, suddenly, the shades went still, hanging in the air. I heard a noise that iced my heart: a deep, rattling gasp that grew louder and louder. The first breath of a goddess who’d been dead a thousand years.
The gods are alive again.
And yet I couldn’t linger here. I needed to get to Ali.
Hela sucked in a second breath, and with it, the shades spun in a terrible gyre, round and round like the whorl of a fearsome tornado.
Shivers ran up my spine at the wonder I was witnessing here, awe stilling my breath. I could see the goddess now. Her skin softened as she inhaled the shades. Then, she opened her eyes and fixed me with her dazzling gaze.
She was beautiful in an eerie way—blue, swirling tattoos covering one half of her face, her skin pale as ice on the other side. She had delicate features, and her body glowed with a pearly light. Her dark hair fell over her robe, her body now gleaming with silvery light.
She stared at me, beautiful and terrifying at the same time, and I wanted to fall to my knees. When she held out her hand, my mind went blank.
“You, my king, have brought me back to life. Just as the Norns foretold. Rule with me here. Rule as king.”
I went completely still, and I felt my heart stop for a moment. A horrible realization shattered my mind. I almost felt as though reality was crumbling around me. This was where I was supposed to rule as king? Not Midgard?
This was the fate the Norns had woven for me?
My fists tightened, and I shook my head. How could I defy a goddess? And yet I must.
Even as the darkness closed in around me, I knew I could not stay. Ali wasn’t here. I had to make sure she was okay. I had to travel to Vanaheim and find her.
Before the goddess could stop me, I scribed the necessary runes, and a portal opened. I dove through it.
I fell hard onto the grasses of Vanaheim as the portal snapped shut behind me.
Chapter 46
Ali
One by one, my new Vanir warriors slipped through the portal. They were armed with sabers—a proper show of force for their new Empress.
The magic crackled as I stepped through, the last to arrive, and I found myself on the icy stone steps of the Citadel’s amphitheater. Dark magic covered the Well of Wyrd, and the seating had been divided into two sections. One for the Vanir, one for the High Elves. The two tribes crowded onto the stone steps, waiting for the final battle.
The Night Elves were likely back in the caverns already, waiting for death. I wouldn’t let it happen.
This had to work, or we’d be destroyed.
I surveyed the scene. Directly across from the Vanir section was the royal dais, perched just on the edge of the black lid of the well. In the center, Revna stood dressed in an emerald gown.
So, she’d survived. Disappointing.
And for some bizarre reason, she was wearing Gorm’s crown.
I kept to the shadows, out of view, hiding behind the Vanir. I’d have the element of surprise on my side.
But what the fuck had happened to Gorm? I caught the Regent’s attention, then nodded at Revna.
He nodded, understanding my meaning. “Where is King Gorm?” he shouted.
Revna adjusted her crown. “King Gorm has been murdered. As his only surviving child, I am now Queen of the High Elves. I shall defeat the Vanir. Once I do so, my first act as queen will be total extermination of the Night Elves.”
Icy rage flickered through me. I will rip your fucking head off.
Where in Hel was Galin, though?
It was time to set my plan in motion. I nodded at the Regent, and he stepped forward. “We propose a battle of champions—a duel would be best. The winner becomes the leader of all the elves.”
“Fine,” Revna replied primly. “As is the ancient custom of the High Elves, I will be choosing a champion.”
Disappointing. I’d hoped to kill her myself.
She smiled serenely, then held out her hand. The ground shook as a giant of an elf crossed onto the top of the stairs of the arena. He genuinely looked part giant—a wall of muscle, gripping a sword that was as large as I was. He had to be eight feet tall at least, his head disturbingly misshapen.
“You may choose your champion,” she simpered.
“Oh, no,” said the Regent. “Our Empress has said that she wishes to defend the realm herself.”
I stepped out from behind my men, standing next to the Regent.
Revna sputtered. “You?”
“None other.” I grinned. “Seems like we’ve both been promoted in the last twelve hours.”
The crowd began murmuring, the High Elves clearly scandalized.
But where the fuck was Galin? If Gorm was dead, he should be king now, not his sister. Then this would all be over.
Gripping Skalei, I crossed out into the arena. The giant was huge, but all it would take was one well-aimed toss to his aorta. One throw, and my nightmare would finally be over.
Already, he was running for me, his sword carving through the air. He growled as I dodged him. Once. Twice. I’d stay out of his reach, dancing over the cold stone until the time was just right to throw Skalei.
I kept my eye trained on his neck, exactly where I needed to throw it, and let loose. The blade arced out of my hand, glinting in the light of the moon. But just at that moment, he swung for me, and the blade caught him in the collarbone, not where I needed it.
He screamed anyway, charging for me.
“Skalei.”
With the blade in my hand again, I leapt into the air over his sword, driving Skalei at his chest. This was what I’d trained for all my life.
This time, Skalei met her mark perfectly, and the giant stopped, stunned. He staggered back, the ground shaking. Skalei protruded from his chest, and although he pulled her out, blood was now pouring from him. He stumbled, and I knew that the Night Elves would not die. I’d won.
With the High Elves vanquished, they would be under my control. I would lead them, the Vanir, and the Night Elves alike. All three tribes under my control. I’d create a glorious kingdom for us all.