Read Fire and Lies Online

Authors: Angela Chrysler

Fire and Lies (31 page)

 

K
allan marched down the corridor, past her rooms to Rune’s bower. Undaunted, she flung wide the doors of Rune’s sitting room then swept through the rich décor. A moment later, she yanked open the door of Rune’s bed chamber.

Dressed in just his trousers, Rune turned to catch the firelight shimmering on the silver strands that laced her bodice. Too late, he gazed at the fire in her eye as she slipped her hand around
Gramm
’s hilt where it rested against the door.

Rune dove for the sword. Kallan stepped in and landed her fist in his eye, sending the king flying back onto the trunk at the foot of his bed. Before Rune could check for blood, Kallan released a blast of pure Seidr. A gush of wind caught his chest and flung Rune back and over the bed.

“Had to stop a war?” Kallan shrieked, and Rune leapt as Kallan swung the blade and missed.

“Had to declare peace?”

Rune hopped back, and
Gramm
’s tip grazed his belly, leaving behind a thin line of red.

“You lied to me!”

“I never said—”

“You kissed me!” Kallan said and fired another blast of wind. The shot grazed his pelvis and slammed him back into the wall and his supply of mead.

“You let me believe you actually did this for me!”

“Kallan, wait! I can explain!”

Rune scrambled onto his bed as Kallan circled around the farthest side to corner him.

From the sitting room, Geirolf and Torunn peered in, followed quickly by Roald, a wench, and a menagerie just as Kallan swung
Gramm
again. Rune moved, but had run out of bed and fell to the floor.

“Day after day trudging through Midgard…”

Kallan sent another blast of Seidr just as Rune dove for the door leading to the war room.

“Starved and wet and cold…”

Rune flattened his back to the wall, nearly smashing the looking glass in the process, and did his bravest to confront the Seidkona.

“Eating nothing but your damn fish while you insisted one of my own had betrayed me!”

“But Borg did—”

Kallan lunged and swung the blade down, leaving Rune barely enough time to snag up his bow and block the blade, deeply gouging the riser.

“You took me from Lorlenalin to kill me!” Kallan shouted and swung. The blade struck the upper limb of the bow severing it.

“You were one of them!”

She swung again and caught the grip.

“And I believed you! I actually started to believe you! And I let you put your hands on me!”

“You spoke to Borg,” Rune said, beneath his bow.

“Yes, I spoke to Borg!” Kallan shrieked, lowering
Gramm
to her side. “And I know everything! How you lied to me! How you and he had a deal! How you agreed to kill me!”

“I never killed you,” Rune said.

“Is that why you came for me?” Kallan asked as he cowered beneath his bow. “Why you rescued me from the Dvergar? Because you had to make good on your deal?”

“I didn’t kill you!” Rune said. “See? You’re standing there trying to kill me!”

Kallan released a high-pitched growl and lunged, forcing Rune to take up his bow and block, locking
Gramm
at the hilt.

Glancing at the damage done to the bow, Rune let slip a smile and Kallan slipped a fist through their weapons to punch him in the mouth. Rune fell back into the wall as Kallan stood screaming over him.

“You scolded me for my lies and half-truths! You were right there alongside me with your own fair share of lies! You were working with the very spy you planted to betray me!”

“But I never did—”

“Enough!” Kallan turned the blade down, driving it into the end table beside him.

Unarmed, she stood heaving over him.

“Negotiations are over!” she said. “If you insist I am free, then I go! I leave first thing in the morning with my kin! And if you have any objections, Your Highness…” she said this with a derisive tone. “Then I suggest you imprison me to keep me here!”

In a rage, Kallan marched to the door, ready to burst through the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to watch from the sitting room.

Rune called from the floor, “But Aaric—”

“Aaric isn’t working with Borg, Rune!” Kallan turned on her heel.

“Borg told you,” Rune said.

“Borg told me!”

“But Aaric,” Rune said, trying to push himself up from the floor. “You can—”

“A woman hired Borg, Rune!”

Rune’s shoulders dropped.

“First thing in the morning, Your Majesty!”

“But, Kallan—”

“Your services are no longer required!”

And as sharply as she was cold, Kallan swept from Rune’s bedroom, leaving him alone with their audience.

 

 

G
udrun and Daggon rode through the night, stopping only to rest the horses. Too exhausted and worn to speak, they made their way slowly along the Alfheim Wood. Another day’s ride and the tops of Lorlenalin’s white towers would greet them.

“Hold up,” Gudrun said, pulling back on the reins.

“What is it?” Daggon asked.

The air settled and Gudrun reached beyond this earth, into the fibers where the Seidr flowed. There she felt it, like a lone ripple along a perfectly still surface. Strong, powerful, and too close to ignore.

“It’s too late,” Gudrun whispered. “She’s here.”

In an instant, Gudrun slid from the saddle and threw open a saddle bag.

Daggon slid off his horse. “Gudrun?”

“Here,” the old woman said, handing Daggon her pouch. “Inside you’ll find my strongest cloaking spell.”

“You know I don’t do your Seidr spells, woman—”

“There isn’t time,” Gudrun said.

“Then let us be off an—”

“Daggon! Please!”

Daggon studied Gudrun’s golden eyes.

“If I’ve ever learned anything, it’s when not to argue with you, Seidkona.” Daggon accepted the packet from Gudrun. “Very well, woman.”

Daggon swiftly pulled himself back on his horse.

“Ride ahead,” Gudrun said. “Don’t look back. Don’t stop. You must get to the city. In my chambers, beneath a floor board under my chest.”

“What am I looking for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it. Whatever you do, no matter what happens, get it and my pouch to Kallan. She’ll know what to do.”

“What of you then, lass?”

The winds picked up, whipping Gudrun’s long silver hair about.

“Go!” Gudrun called.

“Gudrun.”

“There isn’t time!”

The raven called and Gudrun shrieked. “For once, Daggon! Do as you’re told!”

“Alright.”

Daggon nodded and whipped the reins, sending the horse into an instant gallop.

“Ride fast,” Gudrun called. “Ride hard. Don’t look back!”

The wind continued to whip about as Gudrun looked on.

“No matter what happens,” she whispered.

 

The winds settled, and Gudrun turned to her horse.

“Drui,” Fand breathed. Delight rose in her chest at the sight of the Seidkona. Pulling the threads of Seidr through the air, Fand stirred the winds back up and forced Gudrun to spin about in search of her assailant.

“Drui,” Fand repeated in sing-song then watched in amusement as Gudrun withdrew her Seidr staff.

A raven fluttered and a moment later, the bird stretched her neck as if sliding off the feathers. As the raven shifted its form, Fand uncurled and grew until the Fae stood, her long black hair falling to her waist and spilling over the white gowns that shimmered gold with Seidr dust over the flawless skin of Under Earth.

“Yours is the Seidr I sensed!” Fand exclaimed. “Oh, this is a delight!” Rolling her shoulders back in display like a bird preening, Fand rolled her neck and deeply inhaled.

“Fand,” Gudrun gasped as if finding her voice. “I might have known this was you. Everything reeked of a spoiled palace brat.”

“Oh, such hate.” Fand feigned hurt. “When I picked up your trail, I was certain the child was still alive.”

“Kallan…” Gudrun muttered.

Fand inhaled again, smelling deeply the scents on Gudrun’s clothes.

“You smell like cursed berserker,” Fand said, groaning in delight and smiled. “How is Bergen?”

“Friend of yours?” Gudrun asked.

“Not quite.”

“You found my trail,” Gudrun said. “Now why couldn’t I sense yours?”

Smiling, Fand shrugged.

“Search me,” she said and lunged, throwing a thick line of white Seidr straight for Gudrun, who met Fand’s attack with the Seidr staff and directed the stream of Seidr into the ground.

Fand fired with her other hand, forcing Gudrun to greet Fand’s Seidr, direct and lead it into the ground. Again, Fand fired and Gudrun met Fand’s attack.

“So what do you plan to do with yourself once you’ve killed me?” Gudrun asked.

“Oh, don’t take it personally,” Fand said. “I’m just wrapping up loose ends.”

“Killing ten thousand wasn’t enough?” Gudrun snapped.

“Ten thousand is nothing if not you three. Tell me.” Fand narrowed her gold eyes into slits with a sly grin. “Where is Volundr?”

“Never found him, did you?”

Gudrun dropped to the ground. With palms flat against the earth, she summoned and pulled the charges Fand had fired at her only moments ago. The Seidr erupted and, leading the Earth’s Seidr on the strands of Fand’s Seidr, she launched Fand’s attack back at her.

Fand opened her palms to the Seidr and invited the energy back in, but Gudrun had summoned too much from the Earth, and the force blasted Fand through the air. Several feet away, she struck the ground, giving Gudrun enough time to counter.

“And after you kill me, what then?” Gudrun said, already accumulating a condensed quantity of Seidr in her palm. “You’ll kill Aaric, I presume?”

Fand was on her knees.

“Only a little,” she said. “He and I have a deal that is keeping him alive a little longer.”

Fand lifted her hands, throwing back the Seidr from one palm, and another, and a third as Gudrun directed the shot with her Seidr staff, dodged the second, and consumed the third into her palm as she pocketed the staff. Gudrun raised both palms, firing off a continuous stream of light and Fand charged, dodging Gudrun’s attack.

Fand fired a single shot at Gudrun’s head. Gudrun dodged and directed the continuous stream, forcing Fand to leap out of the way while releasing another shot.

Gudrun dropped to dodge Fand’s shot and fired a round of light, once, twice, thrice, The fourth sliced Fand’s cheek.

Her perfect, pale cheek.

Fand stopped dead in her tracks and touched the bit of blood etched on her face. Fand gazed at the bright red on her finger as if seeing mortality for the first time in her ancient existence.

“The first flaw in an otherwise perfect complexion,” Gudrun said. “Did the palace brat get a booboo?”

Screaming, Fand fired and fired.

“You have no idea the delight I had in killing Kira!” Fand shrieked as she fired round after round of white at Gudrun, who dodged and danced in desperation to avoid Fand’s Seidr.

Again and again, Fand fired as she walked closer, closing the range between her and Gudrun.

“I’ll drain the life from the last of you!” Fand screamed, still firing and not giving Gudrun a chance to do anything more than move.

“I’ll destroy your secrets!”

A single strand struck Gudrun’s shoulder.

“The lies!”

The next strand struck Gudrun’s thigh and she dropped to a knee.

“The key!” Fand shrieked.

Fand clamped her fingers down on Gudrun’s brow, positioned so the thumb and middle finger encased Gudrun’s temples.

“I’ll send them all to Hel with you,” Fand said. “Where is Volundr?”

“Don’t know,” Gudrun said. “Haven’t seen him.”

Without pause, Fand thrust her lines of Seidr through Gudrun’s temples and shoved her Sight through Gudrun.

Gudrun buckled under Fand’s Will as the Fae goddess sorted through the lifetime of memories locked in Gudrun’s mind.

“I’ll take what you won’t give,” Fand mused. “Back,” she muttered as she ripped through the memories.

Kira’s smile. Kallan’s birth. Ori and Kallan playing in the Dvergar mines. Kira’s death. Bergen’s screams.

“Further,” Fand muttered through gritted teeth.

A tree. An ancient tome. An underground library.

“I know this place,” Fand said and then drove her Seidr deeper, ignoring Gudrun’s body jerking under her hand.

Danann and Dag standing so ancient, so regal over the thousands of dead Drui in Eire’s Land. Gudrun and Aaric and Volundr. A much younger Gudrun writhing with pleasure under Volundr. A shadow, and—

Fand gasped and pulled her hand free. At once, the seizing stopped and Gudrun fell limp to the ground.

“What have you done?” Fand asked, ignoring the lines of blood seeping from Gudrun’s temples. Almost kindly, Fand kneeled beside Gudrun’s crumpled body and gently touched her hand. “All these years without your love…”

Gudrun heaved in reply, unable to move, to speak. The damage was already done. Fand was certain Gudrun wasn’t Gudrun anymore.

“Pity.”

Securing her life lines to Gudrun’s Seidr, Fand, within a few short breaths, pulled all the Seidr from her. The gold from Gudrun’s eyes drained, leaving behind a set of lapis blue irises that matched Kallan’s. Her skin, preserved by the Seidr, shriveled and dried, and all the years of the Eldin and life of the Alfar vanished in those few moments, leaving the Drui a withered husk void of Seidr.

Fand released Gudrun’s corpse, already cold to the touch. Almost bored, she sauntered to Gudrun’s horse and unsheathed a sword secured in one of the saddle bags.

Humming a little ditty, Fand wandered back, as if taking a simple stroll through the wood.

 

“Sing and skip o’er Faerie mounds,

O’er the river and through the dalr.”

 

Raising the sword, Fand heaved, and in a single swipe, dropped the blade through Gudrun’s neck.

“And then there were two.” 

 

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