Redeemer (Night War Saga Book 3) Page 8

  A surge of pent up pressure released from my chest on a heavy exhale. What a night.

  “You okay?” I leaned into Tore’s open arms. He wrapped me in a tight embrace, his trembling hands answering my question in ways words never could.

  “Can’t really open those gates tonight, can I?” He rested his chin atop my head. “We’ve got work to do. Bifrost drops in five.”

  “Right.” I pressed my cheek to Tore’s chest and took the moment to ground myself in the safety of his arms. Much too quickly he pulled away, leaning down so his eyes were level with mine.

  “Be careful tonight, Pepper,” he warned. “Stick close to me, get the piece, and get out of there the minute it’s in your possession. No matter what.”

  “I will,” I vowed. “Trust me, I don’t want us to be in Helheim any longer than we have to be.”

  Tore stared at me for an endless beat. He didn’t blink as he ordered, “And stay the Hel away from my father. If he lays one finger on you, I’ll kill him.”

  Whoa. Anger sparked from his centers in furious red bursts, and I raised one hand to his heart, lightly resting my fingertips atop his chest. “I won’t let him hurt me,” I promised. Or you, either. If Vidar made any kind of move on his son, I’d light whip him into submission. Or straight up end him—whatever was necessary. He’d hurt Tore enough for one lifetime—even an immortal one.

  “Tore! Allie! We need to move!” Bodie’s voice came from just inside the front door. He emerged battle ready, sword sheathed and dagger in hand. Johann and Mack came out after him, both fully weaponed up and carrying additional blades for me and Tore.

  Right. It was go time. No pressure.

  I shot Mack a grateful smile as he handed me my weapons. After bending down to tuck my dagger into my boot, I sheathed my Asgardian sword, then offered a small wave to Greta and Lela as they followed the boys out of the house and down the steps. Tore pinned me with one final ‘Don’t do anything dangerous’ stare, before guiding me down the steps and into the open field where we could call for the Bifrost. The slam of the front door drew my attention back to the porch, where Mel and Killer stood sentinel.

  “Be safe!” Greta’s sister called out. “Killer and I will hold down the fort with Lela while you’re gone.”

  “You do that,” Greta called back. “Love you, Mel!”

  “Love you too!” Mel waved.

  Lela planted a light kiss on Mack’s cheek before turning to me. “I shall remain in mediation until you return.” She bowed, before returning to the porch and taking her place beside Mel.

  “Thanks, Lela.” Lady Mack was so perfect for my lumberjack.

  A spark of light drew my attention to the left, where a black hole opened up to eject a scaly, winged reptile. Excitement pinged through my centers, and I couldn’t stop my squeal as I raced over to greet my dragon. “Scarlet!” I threw my arms around her crimson neck. “You’re here!”

  “Good. She heard our call.” Mack handed my satchel back to me, and I looped the dragon horn carrier around my waist. “Now we just need Astrid to return and—”

  A flash of rainbow hued lights slammed into the ground, luminosity forcing my eyes closed. So bright. When I peeled my eyes open, Astrid, Malena, and six of her finest firemen-calendar lookalikes stepped from the Bifrost to stand in front of Tore. Man, Asgardian warriors were yummy. My old roommate, Mallory, would have loved to have been here right now. Mallory. My chest pinged as I remembered my once-upon-a-time normal life. I hoped the fates, however many of them there were, would let me and Mallory reconnect someday. Somehow.

  “We are ready,” Astrid barked. “And my men—and woman—have been instructed to follow your command, Tore.”

  My handsome blond protector pulled his shoulders back and scanned the field. I followed his gaze, noting Johann, Bodie, Mack, Greta, Astrid, and the warriors in a quick headcount. It would be fourteen of us taking on the underworld, and whatever horrors resided within it. God almighty, I hoped we could handle this.

  “Heimdall,” Tore shouted into the rainbow of light. The Bifrost hadn’t retracted with Astrid’s arrival. Apparently, she’d communicated to its wielder that this would be a quick turnaround. Gulp. “Heimdall, take us to Helheim. Take us to Revenge.”

  And with that, I stepped into the rainbow transport, threw my arms around Tore, and sent a prayer that we’d see Midgard again one day.

  And not from the inside of a body bag.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I WAS NO STRANGER to Bifrost-induced nausea, but I was not prepared for the level of sickness I experienced on landing in Helheim. It wasn’t so much the velocity or general bone-suckage that left me feeling like I was about to empty my stomach as it was the overwhelming and completely horrifying black energy that could only be associated with—

  “Death,” Greta whispered. “It’s everywhere. Do you feel it?”

  I sure did. Besides nausea, and a goosebump-inducing level of cold, death was the only thing I felt. Between the thick, heavy energy slithering around my ankles like an army of demonic serpents ready to pull me under, and the suffocating air of desolation that stretched as far as my energetic sight could see, I was one ‘Heimdall!’ away from turning tail and Bifrosting it out of the dark realm. Helheim was truly the living—un-living?—embodiment of hell. Though in the Asgardian equivalent, the underworld was snowy, white, and peppered with a surprising number of spectacular trees. Who knew?

  “Be careful.” Astrid unsheathed her sword before stepping carefully across the field of rocky shards the Bifrost had set us on. She looked like whatever she’d eaten that day hadn’t agreed with her, and I guessed that even the members of our party who weren’t hyper-sensitive to energies were feeling the effects of the death-ridden realm. “Stay behind me, and don’t approach the undead without checking for my signal.”

  “The undead?” I questioned. “You can see them?” I hadn’t done a thorough inspection, but I didn’t see anyone besides the fourteen members of our Gud Morder hunting party. Maybe Astrid could see spirits. Oh, God, could Astrid see spirits? Dear Universe, Please don’t let there be any spirits beside me. And if there are, please let them be nice ones. Thank you. Xoxo, Allie.

  “Up ahead.” Astrid pointed with her sword, and I followed the line. Behind a cluster of trees, I could barely make out some kind of encampment. It had thick walls made of what looked to be ice blocks, and with ghoulish figures that paced the top of the structure. Their movements were stiff and robotic, almost as if they were . . . oh, gross.

  “Does Helheim have zombies?” I squeaked. My hands flew involuntarily to my ears, protecting my brain suddenly priority number one.

  “Not exactly,” Johann said. He and Mack stepped forward to flank Tore and me. “But I wouldn’t get too close to the prison camp guards. Just a head’s up.” Johann pointed to the upper-level walkway where the not-exactly-zombies paced, and I realized the ice blocks were accentuated with metal spikes, each bearing a severed head.

  The single bite of Mack’s chili I’d downed churned violently in my gut, threatening to make an undesirable return. I was going to need so freaking much therapy. All the therapy. Seriously.

  My dragon whimpered from behind me. In my severed-head paranoia, I’d forgotten she was here. I was crushing it at pet ownership today.

  ‘You okay?’ I asked her silently.

  ‘Don’t like here,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, sister, that makes two of us.’ With a shudder, I stared at the spiky wall. ‘Let’s get the piece and get out of here before they decide they need more decorations.’

  Scarlet chuffed. ‘Obvious.’

  Fondness for my sarcastic dragon warmed my terror-filled heart. Bless the universe for hooking us up.

  “Allie.” Greta rummaged through her bag. She withdrew two crystal wands and shoved them into my hands. “Take these. Helheim’s energy hits healers particularly hard, so double down on your protections and don’t be afraid to use these if necessary.”

  �
��I can’t take your only—oh.” I stopped short as Greta pulled a second set of wands from her bag. “Got it. Thanks.”

  Greta waved her wands around her body, moving from her head to her feet and back up. I copied her motions, and the anxiety-nausea cocktail coursing through my majorly stressed out system waned just a tiny bit.

  Better than nothing.

  “Come on,” Tore grunted. “We’d better get inside the camp and find my father.”

  Or, we could stay outside, away from the head-spikes and not-exactly-zombies, and use sheer willpower to call the piece of Gud Morder to us. We’d gotten a lucky break with the Midgard piece earlier today—maybe lightning would strike twice.

  “Are you coming, Allie?” Tore looked over his shoulder. The rest of the group was already moving toward the encampment. Dang it.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, kicking an ice shard and motioning for Scarlet to follow. “Come on, Scarlet. Looks like we’re going to face death. Literally.” God, I hated everything about this place.

  ‘Scarlet protect Master Allie,’ my telepathic dragon vowed.

  ‘Thanks. I’ve got your back, too.’ If we got home alive, I was so buying her all the treats that Dragonry store had to offer. All of them.

  I trod carefully across the icy ground. Scarlet padded quietly beside me, nudging me upright with her head when I slipped and lost my footing. By the time we reached a garage door-sized hole in the ice-block wall, my stomach was a knotted mess and my heart pounded with such ferocity I thought it might burst free of my ribcage. Down, girl.

  Tore and the rest of our team fanned around Greta and I. “Stay close,” Tore warned, while Mack and Johann led the way through the door-less entry.

  “Why are the guards just letting us walk inside?” I glanced nervously upward, where the not-exactly-zombies paced robotically among the decapitated deceased.

  “They don’t care who enters.” Tore shrugged. “But if you try to leave the camp before your time’s up, they’ll feed on your soul and stake your head as a warning to anyone else who’s thinking of trying to escape.”

  Oh. Right. RIP, sanity.

  “I know what Vidar did, but how did the rest of these guys get stuck serving time here?” I shivered as I glued myself to Tore’s side and followed him through the entry. When a fresh surge of desolation washed over me, I waved my borrowed wands around my body until the bad juju moved out of my space. Hurry up, weapon piece. Show up now so we can get out of here.

  “This is where those who betray Asgard go for some . . . regrouping,” Tore offered. We passed a cluster of small shacks, each with decrepit-looking beings lurking outside of them. A particularly large tattooed . . . warrior? . . . spat in our direction. Scarlet growled from behind me, and the warrior looked away.

  ‘Thanks, girl,’ I praised.

  ‘Any time.’

  “The prison camp of Helheim is the Alfödr’s last resort—a final effort to set derelicts straight,” Tore clarified.

  This place was a nightmare—a frozen torture camp with threadbare structures that most definitely wouldn’t keep out the icy chill. The fact that the Alfödr would send one of his high-ranking gods here spoke volumes about how much he cared for Tore and his mom. Note to self: never tick off the Alfödr. Never.

  We passed another group of shacks, and I was just rubbing my arms to stave off the cold when a raspy voice croaked from beneath a bundle of sheets.

  “Tore?” The sheets shifted, and my heart convulsed as I realized we were about to come face-to-face with a ghost. Keep it together, Allie. Don’t throw up in the middle of Helheim. But the sheets lengthened, then dropped to the ground, revealing the hunched form of a seated Vidar. He looked close to death’s door, his hair crusted with blood and his clothes ripped to shreds. “Is that you, Son?” His lips pulled back as he spoke, revealing a black gap where his front teeth had been.

  Good God, what do they do to inmates here?

  Astrid quickly stepped in front of me, but Tore nudged her aside. “He can’t hurt us,” he said. Pity flickered across his face before a harder, more indistinguishable emotion replaced it. “He can’t even help himself here. He put ninety percent of the inmates in this place. How’s that working out for you, Revenge?”

  “Not well,” Vidar admitted. He sat taller as he reached up to wipe a clump of dirt from his cheek. Had he passed out on the ground? Had he been . . . hiding under that sheet? Trying to avoid another beating? No, Allie. Do not feel sorry for the guy who took Tore’s mom from him. Do not.

  My armor hummed as if in agreement, renewing my resolve to stay on task. I pulled my shoulders back and stared down at the once-powerful God of Revenge. “We’re here to recover a piece of Gud Morder and bring it home. Have you seen anything?”

  “No,” Vidar croaked. His lips turned downward as he raised his eyes to the sky. “But this morning, I overheard some of the men talking about a rescue—saying they would be freed by Night. I presume they meant Nott.”

  Every member of our group unsheathed their weapons. I hurriedly transferred my wands to one hand, and drew my dagger with the other. This was so not good.

  “How many are in this camp?” Astrid barked. She turned a slow circle, taking in our surroundings one shabby shack at a time.

  “Maybe fifty?” Vidar pushed himself up, wincing as his weight pressed down on bloodied knees. “Back in Asgard, a source informed me that Nott was considering recruiting from the Helheim camp. If her plan was enacted, all able-bodied inmates would be transported to Svartalfheim. And provided Nott won the Night War, they’d be awarded a place in her new Midgard.”

  An angry growl tore from Tore’s throat. He stepped forward, his shoulders shaking as he leaned in toward his father. “You had this knowledge, and you kept it from us? The Alfödr should have your head for treason.”

  “I’d only just learned of it before I was sent here. Do I look like I get communication privileges in this place? Or do I look like I get the skit kicked out of me hourly?” Vidar gestured to his blood-stained clothing.

  “I don’t care what’s happening to you hourly. Your duty to Asgard required that you find a way to—”

  “Uh, guys?” Bodie’s normally upbeat voice squeaked from behind us, cutting Tore’s tirade short. “We have a situation.”

  “What?” Tore snapped. I spun around to see what kind of situation could be worse than the God of Revenge and his heir going at it in the middle of a Helheim prison camp, and my stomach dropped as I found myself facing down an impending brawl. Two-dozen men bore down on us, wielding wooden planks, metal shards, and ice picks.

  Oh. My. God. How were we going to get out of this one?

  “Scarlet! Grab Allie and get her out of here!” Tore jumped in front of me, his sword at eye level, as the rest of our team fanned outward to form a half circle around me and Greta. They needn’t have worried about my friend; the petite healer raised her crystal wands above her head, clapping them together to create an energetic burst that sent half of the attackers flying back. The remainder continued to charge, and I shoved my own wands into my belt and drew my sword so I had a long blade in one hand and a dagger in the other.

  “Do we have any allies on the inside? Asgardian guards hiding in the shacks or something?” Surely the Alfödr didn’t just turn his realm’s un-finest loose in here, with nothing more than not-exactly-zombies to keep them from killing each other.

  “Nope. We’re on our own.” Tore lowered his head and charged at a burly redhead—one with biceps thicker than Mack’s chest, and unruly hair that was longer than mine. “Get out of here, Allie. I mean it!”

  Scarlet nudged me with her head, and I reluctantly shifted my dagger to my sword hand so I could scramble atop her long neck. Then I offered my free hand to Greta, who shook her head.

  “I can help protect them. Go. Find the piece so we can get out of here.” She raised her wands again, bringing them together just as three of the fallen attackers climbed unsteadily to their feet. They tumbled again, and
I wasted no more time worrying about my friend. She could take care of herself—she always did.

  Scarlet lifted us skyward, and I sent her a quick warning. ‘Stay away from the guards,’ I advised.

  ‘Obvious,’ she agreed. She looped around the camp while I ran through scenarios that might protect my friends. Instructing Scarlet to make it rain fire might result in an accidentally singed protector. What if . . . wait. Did my friends even need help? On our second pass around, Astrid singlehandedly cut two men down, Tore and Bodie each speared individual attackers, and Greta’s crystal wands seemed to keep everyone else safe enough to fight fair battles. Since my friends were fine, I focused my attention on finding that weapon piece so we could get the hell out of Helheim.

  As we flew over one of the shacks that rested a few hundred feet from the prison riot, my shoulder vibrated. Hard. I instructed Scarlet to get as close to the structure as she could without landing. I needed her primed for a quick getaway in case of another attack.

  ‘I’m going to jump,’ I warned, and Scarlet dropped her feet, angling her wings to slow herself down.

  ‘Be safe. Scarlet keep watch,’ she promised.

  ‘Thanks.’ I swung my legs atop my dragon’s back, and leapt to the ground. My armor hummed excitedly as my feet pounded the ice, each step drawing me closer to one of the shacks. With a glance over my shoulder to confirm my dragon was circling nearby, I ducked inside the wooden hut, skidding to a stop along the shabby wooden floorboards. The metal at my shoulder sent another surge down my arm, and I willed it to not electrocute me as I tried to identify the familiar energy signature inside the structure. A threadbare blanket and a rusty bedpan were the only belongings in the shack, but there was no mistaking the arrogant, unapologetic, vengeful energy that filled the space. This was Vidar’s hut. And the Alfödr had sentenced him to a month of abject humility. Bless him for taking Tore’s side on this one.