When the figures appeared in front of us, I shuddered internally, still bound by the net.
They were tall and slender, with the pointed ears of the elves. Their hair was black as pitch, along with their eyes. Their skin was an eerie ice white, shot through with black veins. Strange clothes of textured black leather helped them blend into the dark surroundings.
Six of them inspected us, their gazes traveling over our bloody forms. Their noses wrinkled.
Without speaking, one of them flicked a finger, and we rose into the air, carried by the net.
My heart thundered like a bomb in my head as I tried to fight my way free. But I didn’t move an inch.
We floated along behind the silent contingent of Dark Elves. The D?kkálfar, they were called. Dangerous. Deadly. That meant I was right—this was the realm Svartálfar.
If only we’d gone to the realm of the Light Elves.
But nope!
Dark Elves for us.
My mind raced as we floated along, heading toward the glow on the horizon. We shifted in the air slightly so that I could see back the way we’d come. Behind us, a small ghostly white light flickered around the jagged rocks.
Following us?
I squinted toward it, but it disappeared.
Damn.
We shifted again as the elves moved our party around a large collection of rocks. With my neck frozen stiff, I could only see in the direction that they pointed us.
This time when I looked forward, the glow on the horizon had been replaced by a massive black castle. It was as ornate as a wedding cake for a princess, but entirely black, with dozens of turrets and bridges and twisty bits and flags. Light glowed from it, orange and bright.
Like flame.
Fear iced my skin.
I did not want to go in there.
Holy fates, I did not.
But they dragged us ever closer, and bile rose in my throat. The moat surrounding the castle bubbled like black oil, and the massive gate creaked as it opened. How would one ever escape?
We wouldn’t.
The courtyard was full of Dark Elves, all of them turning to watch us with their dead black eyes. Their skin was so pale that they looked like snow. One of them hissed at us, revealing long fangs.
Oh crap oh crap oh crap.
Frozen like this, unable to fight… It was a nightmare.
We floated through an ornate entry hall that was done entirely in shining black onyx, then into a long room with an arched ceiling. The floor was threaded with veins of gold. It reminded me of a fancy cathedral back on Earth, but when we were dumped onto the floor in front of a throne built of bones, all memory of church faded from my mind.
The elf that stared down at us was bigger than the rest, his cheeks gaunt and his eyes burning bright. He was draped in gold, gleaming like the sun.
“What do we have here?” His voice hissed like a snake’s, sibilant and smooth.
“We found them by the N?kken’s pond, my liege,” said one of the elves.
At first, I didn’t realize that he was speaking Norse. But the confusion in Cade’s eyes clued me in.
Apparently I could understand it as well as read it.
The leader pursed his lips as he studied us. “The female feels familiar. Strange.”
Those were contradictory terms, but I had no way to correct him when I couldn’t move my mouth. Not that it would be a smart thing to do.
The elf king tapped his chin with long fingers as he thought. “Lock them up while I try to determine what to do with trespassers on our land. I will call for the interrogator. He will get answers from them.”
The interrogator.
Oh, that sounded bad.
“We shall see what he says,” the elf king continued. “Perhaps they will go into the mines. Until then, put them in the dungeon.”
Something told me the dungeon or the mines were better options than the Dark Elf king figuring out that I was a Valkyrie DragonGod.
We were hoisted into the air by magic and carried from the room. As we drifted away, I stared back at the elf king. His gaze followed me, burning bright.
He’d figure out what I was.
No way I could let that happen.
The six elves accompanied us down to the dungeons. As we floated, the halls shifted. I could feel them moving, swinging through space and tilting up and down. It’d be impossible to find our way out of here.
I swallowed hard as we were taken deeper and deeper into the castle. Strangely enough, the floor down here gleamed with even thicker veins of gold, as if it were coming from the earth itself instead of being laid into the floor during construction. But that was impossible, right?
Except, we weren’t even on Earth anymore. Midgard was far way. This was Svartálfar, and anything was possible here.
We reached a heavy iron door, which the lead guard opened with a big iron key. They tossed us in, dragged the net off of us, then slammed the door.
I lay still on the hard ground, gasping. Trying to calm my mind.
Next to me, Cade sat up. He shuddered. “There’s something wrong with the air here.”
Shaking, I joined him, barely able to keep myself upright.
The room was small, the walls covered in a dark mist. It seeped toward me, chilling my muscles and creeping into my mind.
“Magic,” I said.
Cade shuddered again, his face pale. He climbed to his feet and inspected the walls, pressing his hands to the stone. The black mist darkened his skin. He pulled them back.
He went to the door. Tried the handle. Of course it didn’t work, but I couldn’t blame him for trying.
Then he threw himself against the door, leading with his shoulder. It didn’t budge. Again and again, he hurled himself at the iron barrier. The blows were so hard that the entire room shook—but the door didn’t break.
“Knock it off!” a voice shouted in Old Norse.
Cade stopped, panting. “What did he say?”
“Knock it off,” I translated. “Somehow I can speak Old Norse. The king is calling someone called the interrogator. They’ll try to determine why we’re here, and then possibly put us in the mines.”
“We can’t escape from there.” Cade was still pale, an unusual sight for the brave god.
I didn’t like being locked up, but he was taking this harder. The guy who threw himself at a giant wolf and would fight anything single-handedly did not like being locked up. He’d made the damn walls shake with the force of his blows.
I didn’t rise—my muscles felt too weak—but I lifted my arms. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“We need to figure out how to get out of here, but first, I could use a hug.” I didn’t say that he could also probably use a hug.
His face softened. He came to sit next to me, and pulled me into his arms. My muscles relaxed. My mind cleared slightly.
“This black mist affects us,” I said.
“No kidding. I don’t like dungeons.” He didn’t shudder, but I could hear one in his voice. “But this is worse than most.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time in dungeons?”
“As a child. But that’s a story for another time.”