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Chapter Thirteen
Erik
I set Astrid on the ground and spin to face our attackers. They’re not in the house yet, I can tell that much. Otherwise, I’d have felt their presence sooner.
But beyond the house, somewhere out in the forest, I can feel a wave of dark magic moving toward us. I stretch out with my shifter senses, feeling for the goblins. I can sense them like a heat map, dots of color and magic.
Dozens of them had attacked us on the trail with Lilli. Now there are hundreds, surrounding the house on all sides.
And it’s not just the goblins, I can sense something else. Something that radiates as much power as the midnight sun. Something vastly larger than the dots of light coming from the goblins.
The goblins were the pawns. But now their dark queen has joined them.
“The books!” Astrid gasps, and she bolts for her office.
I tear after her, and we reach the office at the same time. I grab her arm. “We’ve got to get out of here, Astrid. Now!”
She wrenches free of my grasp. “Not without these! We need them.”
As she starts to scoop up the books, clutching them to her chest, the goblins charge. I can feel their heat and magic rushing toward us, tightening around us, boxing us in. There’s a series of small explosions outside, like a fireworks show, as our enemies hit Astrid’s wards of protection. Flashes like a strobe light come through the windows.
“No time!” I growl.
I wrap my arm around Astrid and drag her for the door. She’s got five books cradled in her arms. “Grab those two!” she cries, pointing to the final two on the table.
“Astrid—”
The goblins crash into the exterior of the house, shaking the whole thing like an earthquake. “Do it, Erik! I’ll get us out of here.”
With my free hand, I grab the two books. Magic pulses around us, a golden glow that starts in Astrid’s eyes. Runes swirl through the air, and Astrid’s dark hair floats around her in a storm of magic. The front door and several windows explode inwards, and I hear the sound of scrabbling claws racing toward us.
Then there’s a whoosh of power and we disappear.
We reappear in utter and complete darkness.
I blink, and I can’t see a damn thing. For a moment, I wonder if Astrid’s transportation spell failed. Those spells are dangerous. If the spellcaster loses focus while performing it, they can end up somewhere unintended. Or they can end up nowhere at all, floating in a space between spaces endlessly.
There’s solid ground beneath my feet, however, and an earthy smell permeates the air. Astrid hands me the books she’s been holding, and she calls a ball of light into the palm of her hand. I can see stone walls carved with runes, and a ways off, a large stone table strewn with magical artifacts and skulls. We’re in some kind of cavern or chamber.
“What is this place?” I ask, raising my brows.
“It’s a refuge of the Völva,” Astrid responds. “A cavern with no entrance or exit, a safe house of sorts.”
She steps away from me and walks toward the stone table, where she gestures for me to set down the books.
“We can hide here until we find the spell we’ve been looking for,” she adds.
“How did anyone even find this cavern to begin with?” I ask, looking around.
It’s about fifty feet across in any direction, roughly circular. Aside from the stone table, there isn’t any furniture. I wonder how there’s even oxygen, but there must be some crevice somewhere letting in fresh air.
Astrid shrugs. “Magic, surely. I don’t know for certain, its location has been passed down through the coven. When I was younger, I used to come down here when I didn’t want to be around anyone else. When I was upset or angry or needed to practice my magic without interruption.”
I look over at her, wondering about young Astrid. Astrid before the coven turned its back on her, before she had to go it alone. My mind wanders instantly to the feel of her body beneath mine, the wash of her heat and magic, the taste of her lips. I can’t get her out of my head.
And that’s a serious problem.
“I’m sorry about what happened before,” I say.
