My beautiful beast, I scream through the bond.I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need to get a message to your draikani. They can get us out of here. The elves won’t kill them. Tell them I’m going to pretend to cooperate and get closer to Ruxi. They need to capture me and fly away when they see a chance. Some of these tunnels go up or down, and we can lose the unicorns there. We’ll take a risk with one and hope it goes through. If it doesn’t, we’ll need to tuck and fly through them, with a prayer to Freyr that we’re not shot along the way and that we can hide from them.
Balin leans forward, eyebrows drawn together as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. And maybe he is. Finally, he dips his chin quickly. “Maybe you’ll understand if you know more.”
My heart pounds in my ears as I start walking toward him and Ruxi, putting my part of the plan in place, in case the dragons are able to speak. We can’t be dragged back into the sun. Our path to Panta—or Wregen?—starts in these caves.
Balin relaxes when I get closer, his hands moving to his thighs as he straightens his spine. “Yes, it might do you good to learn more about him,” he muses, looking down at me from his perch atop his unicorn. He’s got ahaughty air to him, as if he’s doing me a favor. The friendly elf who flirted with me when we walked in Álfheimr is gone.
“I’m all ears,” I respond with an easy smile, even as my hands grow clammy. He can believe I don’t want to be taken prisoner, while still thinking I might agree to go voluntarily. If I lead him there, we might have a chance to get away.
“I’ve known Wregen a long time, since before he swore fealty to the dark queen.”
“Hel?” I assume that’s who he’s talking about, but if I can slow his storytelling down, that’s what I’ll do.
“There is no other. The rest of the pantheon is bright, full of love and light. Our Queen Haleth is a star, her shining essence a beacon in Álfheimr.”
I shift my expression, lighting up like I’ve heard the best news possible. “She sounds unbelievable.” Literally unbelievable, but I don’t tell him that part.
“She is, truly,” he agrees with a nod. “It’s how I know she’ll welcome you to our home, embrace you as one of our lost elves.” His eyes grow distant, as if he’s picturing her, before he focuses again on me. “But I digress. I knew Wregen when Wrath emerged…”
“How old was he?” I ask, stretching out his walk though his memories, but also hoping he’ll answer something I’ve wondered since I met Wrath. His monster led him to an impossible decision. If the serpent appeared when Wregen was too young, he might have believed he had no choice.
“Old enough to control his beast,” Balin announces dismissively. “Old enough to know better than to swear to the dark queen.”
“But how old was he?” I push. Something about Balin’s response—its defiance, or perhaps the return of that condescending tone—tells me he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. He doesn’t want to give Wregen an excuse.
“He’d lived at least a dozen turns of the seasons before Wrath appeared,” he tells me with a shrug. “It was a difficult life. He’d learned by then how to be the male he needed to be to survive.”
“Twelve years old?” I respond, one of my eyebrows flicking up. “And you expected him to control a beast like Wrath?”
“I expected him to control himself,” Balin spits, his eyes flashing. “Will you believe anything I tell you, or are you too far gone to him already? His dark soul attracts even the best elves. I think you’re already lost.”
“Because I defend him?” My hands lift to my hips before I can stop them, Balin’s arrogance breaking through the polite interest I’m trying my damnedest to portray.
“Because you freed him,” the asshole yells, flinging his hands into the air. “He’s dangerous, and now he’s gone. I’d hoped to get through to him, convince him to abandon Hel and swear his allegiance to his true queen. You fucked it up.”
Flame ripples up my spine, spewing into every part of me. My breath stutters, I’m so shocked at the change in this elf, who a moment ago was trying to convince me he has Wregen’s and my best interests at heart. My legs move of their ownaccord, stalking toward him to drag his ass off that fancy horse and beat some respect into him.
Thank the gods, Ruxi’s got a better head on their shoulders than me. I’m not even halfway there when they see their chance. The elves are more focused on me than they are on the dragon, and they fling themself into the sky. Before I can take another step, I’m in their claws and they’re throwing everything they have into their wings. I cling to them, arms and legs wrapped around the claw holding me, and spin my head to watch for the arrows I know are coming.
Ruxi shoots up, and I realize there’s a tunnel above us I didn’t notice. My stomach twists and I slam my mouth shut to stop the vomit that wants to spew out when I see our destination. It’s not wide enough to slow the unicorns down much, since they’ll only need to do smaller circles. And I don’t think we’ll be able to get through them if we have to turn around.
There’s nothing I can do about it, though. This is our path and I trust Panta’s draikani to protect us with everything they have.
Balin raises his bow, smiling at the chaos he’s about to unleash.
“We’re going to die!” Rata screams from above me, and I’m pretty sure he’s right.
And then Balin looses his arrow.
“Left,” I yell as the point hurtles toward us, too close for me to see how Ruxi can get away. But they’re wily, spinning in place so fast and unexpectedly, I have no idea how I’m stillclinging to their claw, as they barrel to the side. The shaft flies past us, falling to the ground a dragon’s-length away.
The elves aren’t close to done, though. Balin falls back to join their formation, removing the only barrier between the three dozen elves and us. “Aim,” he bellows, pulling the string on his bow as tight as it can go as his unicorn races forward again, closing the distance between us.
“Loose,” he yells, unleashing more arrows than we can possibly evade.
Ruxi doesn’t hesitate. They spin again and start sprinting to the closest wall. Svend and Rata shriek in unison above me, their shrill voices bouncing off the stone while we hurtle toward the unbroken surface. I have no idea what they’re doing, and I’m struggling to stop myself from squealing along with the others. My vision is a tunnel, searching for the hole I hope is there, but that won’t do shit for us.
Turning around, I force myself to focus on the arrows about to catch up. The still air is racing past me, a windstorm all I can hear, my eyes watering with the pressure. I have no idea how they’ve managed to fly fast enough to keep so much distance from the death chasing us down, but I’m thanking every god that they have.
