Perfekt Balance (The Ære Saga Book 3) Page 11

  My spirit soared over Svartalfheim, covering kilometers of barren desert interrupted with the occasional cactus-like vegetation. But though I encountered a handful of castles, and even scoured the settlements surrounding the parliament building—there wasn’t an Asgardian trace to be found. Wherever my friends had gone, their energy was imperceptible. And I couldn’t afford any more time away from my body—if I had any chance at rejoining, it would have to happen soon. After two hours of separation, the risk of permanent disassociation spiked significantly.

  I was butting up against that all-important one-hundred-and-twenty-minute mark.

  With a burst of speed, I returned to Runa’s castle, soared through the window and assessed my body. It was still on the floor, but now it was curled in a tight ball. That was a good sign—it had moved since I left. I aligned my energy centers and pushed against myself. I made it halfway in before my body ejected me. Pulling back out, I studied the corporeal heap. The blood caked against the back of my skull indicated that wound was my most severe injury. It made sense, given this was my second head wound of the day. Note to self—bring a helmet on my next unifying mission. A ripple of excitement ran through me as I studied the shallow cuts and light bruises. My energy remained low, but I’d fixed worse wounds as High Healer. Even without a physical form, I was confident I’d be able to heal this one, too.

  I hoped.

  I held my fingers a half-foot apart, channeling restorative energy. When I felt a malleable ball between my palms, I turned my hands downward, pressing the energy into my body’s skull. The bleeding ebbed, and I felt a light tug at my first energy center. We’re connected! I pressed another wave of energy into the wound, and the pulling sensation intensified. Good enough. I’m going in.

  I pushed the remaining restorative energy into my body and lined up my centers, this time slipping easily back into my physical form. Pain exploded across my mind, resonating from every nerve ending that was still operational. But pain was better than darkness, and I welcomed the agonizing waves, knowing the alternative was far worse.

  After an excruciating eternity, the darkness gave way to grey, and I managed to claw my way to a sitting position. At least two hours had passed since Runa had set on her murderous march, and there was no telling how much damage she’d inflicted. My spirit may have failed to help my friends, but now that I was back in my body my tech could still get the job done. I pressed my fingertips to my forearm and issued my command with a scratchy voice. “Call Forse.”

  When he answered, the stressed face filling the screen did little to reassure me. “Hei, Elsa.” His image bounced up and down against the backdrop of black soot and red lava. Was he running by the molten river we’d seen when the Bifrost dropped us in Svartalfheim?

  “Where are you?” I rasped.

  “Are you okay? Did she hurt you again? So help me, Odin, I’m going to kill her.” Fury laced Forse’s voice.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “Forse, you have to evacuate Svartalfheim. Runa’s reached a whole new level of crazy. She is seriously going to kill you. You need to get Tyr and Brynn out of the realm now.”

  “Nobody’s leaving this realm without you. We’re on our way to another tower. The locator hasn’t tracked your blood sample, but it picked up a trace on Runa.”

  “I thought it needed DNA to track someone?”

  “It does. Henrik uploaded a hair from an old hat Evidence kept.” The screen showed Forse’s hip as he pumped his arms.

  “Forse, you need to be running away from Runa, not toward her. Are you not hearing me? She’s going to kill you.” My heart pounded at the words, sending another wave of pain across my skull.

  Pain’s better than dead, pain’s better than dead…dang it, this hurts.

  “She won’t get the chance. I’m going to kill her first.” Forse’s face came back on the screen. His jaw was set.

  Oh gods. He wasn’t kidding. “That was never part of the plan.”

  “Ja, well. Neither was you getting captured on me, was it, hjärtat? Plans change.”

  “Turn around. She’s leading you into a trap.”

  “I’ve got this under control.” The lava stream behind him blurred as Forse ran faster. “Sit tight. I’ll reprogram the locator and force the förbaskat thing to get a read on you the minute we find Runa.”

  “I might be able to help narrow the search. I never got to tell Tyr that I picked up a few more landmarks the last time I was in his head. When I left my body, I saw that my tower is roughly three kilometers from a pretty substantial mountain range, and that a thick grove of trees surrounds the property. Does that help?”

  “Not really,” Forse grunted. “Most of the towers that are tall enough to fit the specs you gave us are guarded by both mountains and woods.”

  “I traveled west to reach you,” I offered. “So my tower should be east of the one you were ambushed in. Get yourselves out of Svartalfheim, call the Elite Team, and send them to come find me after Runa calls off her god hunt. Just evacuate, now!”

  “We’ve got this, Elsa.” Forse’s voice was steady.

  “Elsa?” Brynn’s upbeat voice rang through the device. Forse tilted his arm so I could see our friend running alongside him. “Hallå, flicka!”

  “Hey girl, to you, too. You guys have got to get out of this realm. Runa’s homicidal.” My plea fell on deaf ears.

  “You want me to miss a fight this epic? I don’t think so.” Brynn’s ponytail bounced as she ran. “Gotta go. We’re at the location, and holy Helheim, where’d they get a dragon?”

  “A what?” I squeaked.

  “I’m signing off, Elsa.” Forse sounded tense. Of course he did.

  “Don’t turn the screen off!” I begged. “How will I know you’re okay?”

  “You can watch through my head,” Tyr chimed in. “Maybe having your calming presence in my brain will keep me from killing every demon I—skit, there are two dragons. And I’ve got visual on Runa. She’s fifty meters due north. Weapon up. Forse, are your guns fully loaded?”

  “Ja,” Forse confirmed.

  “Good.” I heard the swish of Tyr’s sword as he drew it from his belt. “Shoot first, ask questions later. Elsa, see you on the inside. Do not talk when you’re in my head, okay? I need to concentrate.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered to my brother. “I’ll be right there. I’ll do what I can to diffuse the hostiles so long as they let me near their energy. And Forse? Please be careful. I need you guys to come out of this alive.”

  Forse’s image jostled as he drew his sidearm. “I have no intention of dying today, hjärtat. We’re coming for you. Right after we take care of a little pest problem.” Forse winked at the screen before it went black.

  Oh, Hel.

  I doubled down on protections, enforcing my aura with the thickest walls I could visualize. Leaving my body when it was compromised again carried a degree of risk, but if my spirit could help my friends in any way, staying behind wasn’t an option. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and pushed my energy at my brother. It took less than a minute to find him, but by the time I’d dropped into his head, he, Forse, and Brynn were under fire. Literally. Two dragons circled the sky above the stone structure where Runa, Tosk, and a dark elf I didn’t recognize waited. The grounded monsters stood in a straight line in front of the building, smiling like a crazed welcome wagon, while their winged counterparts breathed streams of fire into the lava river separating my friends from Svartalfheim’s un-finest. A wall of fire erupted from the lava, creating a twenty-foot barrier between my friends and my captors.

  Double Hel.

  My brother’s mind whirred. I could sense him running through attack plans, evaluating each for risk, duration, and effectiveness. A light flashed as he settled on the best one, and he took action without second-guessing himself.

  “Forse, you’re going to port us across the stream. Once we’re on the other side, Brynn, you take the unknown hostile. I’ll take out Tosk. Forse, I’ll leave Runa to you
. Seems you two have some unfinished business. Try not to hurt the dragons. They’re most likely being controlled by one of these demons, and in the event they’re acting of their own accord, keeping them alive will be our goodwill gesture to their king, Nidhogg. He’ll owe us a favor, and I have no doubt we’ll need one.”

  “Like we don’t need one now?” Brynn muttered.

  “Two dragons, two dark elves, and an ex-pat?” Tyr sounded confident. “We’ve got this. Now move out.”

  Brynn nodded. She and Tyr moved close to Forse. Forse wrapped his arms around his friends, gun still in hand, and held tight. The next instant, the three of them were on the other side of the fire wall. They hit the ground running, dodging dragon fire as they tore across the blackened ground. My back warmed as a blaze landed just behind Tyr, the dragon breath narrowly missing his shoulder blades. He gripped the hilt of his broadsword, and a perverse sense of pleasure flowed through his head. I knew he wanted to end Runa himself, but because of her prior relationship with Forse, the justice god was in a better position to assess her weaknesses. And to Tyr, removing Runa’s dark elf counterpart would be nearly as fulfilling. Tosk had been an accomplice in my kidnapping, after all. And nobody hurt Tyr’s baby sister.

  Aw! I love you too, big brother.

  No talking! Tyr growled inside his head. I’m trying not to die here.

  Sorry.

  Ugh. Screw running. Tyr bent low and launched himself off his toes. A stream of dragon fire seared the spot seconds after he vacated it.

  “Must be nice to be able to fly,” Brynn chirped. Tyr glanced down, affording me a view of Brynn bounding up the gentle slope. Fire rained down as she danced toward the stone structure. The dragons were relentless, shooting flames in a near continual stream of rage. Their wings flapped angrily and they whipped their tails back and forth, the flames fanning beneath the forceful gusts of air.

  “Just end the elf, Brynn,” Tyr commanded. My viewpoint shifted as Tyr alternated screens in his head, glancing between the dragons he flew level with and the team he oversaw on the ground. My brother’s ability to compartmentalize blew me away.

  No wonder Odin gave him Dad’s title.

  “I’m on it.” Brynn covered the ground in a leap worthy of a classically trained ballerina. She came down directly in front of the unidentified dark elf, who wore a mask of shock—he probably hadn’t expected such a tiny female to cover such a substantial distance in one jump. He pulled his arm back to throw a punch just as Brynn brought her combat boot up in a powerful roundhouse that landed squarely across his face. The elf stumbled back, cradling his cheek in his hands. If the sound of foot on bone was any indication, he’d be nursing a broken jaw.

  Crack.

  And a broken nose. Brynn planted a series of jabs in the center of her target’s face, earning a heavy grunt and a spray of blood from the dark elf.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” The elf ducked, then threw himself at Brynn. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tackled her. They rolled across the soot, colliding with Tosk’s tall, black boot. The unknown elf pulled his head back and pinned Brynn to the ground. She struggled beneath his gnarled hands, arching her back and kicking violently, but the elf was in control. He leaned to the right, giving Tosk a clear shot. As the monster raised his knee to kick Brynn in the head, I switched screens and the ground flew at my face. My brother dove, closing the gap between his bodyguard and himself in the time it took me to blink.

  “I don’t think so,” Tyr growled. He connected with Tosk’s boot before Brynn’s face did, wrapping his fingers around the dark elf’s ankle and yanking him off his feet. He flung Tosk to the ground. Tosk tucked into a ball, narrowly avoiding a shot of fire probably intended for Tyr. Tyr flew so he was level with the dragons and held his hands out.

  “Ceasefire?” Tyr offered. The dragon reared its scaly head, sending a new stream of flames at my brother. “Guess not,” Tyr muttered as he dove back to the earth.

  Tyr’s view shifted as he caught sight of Forse, locked in a battle with Runa. My chest constricted as I noticed his gun lying on the ground, most likely knocked out of his hands by Runa’s freakishly strong kick. Her leg whipped forward like a wind-up toy on repeat, while Forse side-stepped to avoid becoming a casualty of her stilettoed boot. When Runa shifted her weight to kick with her other foot, Forse dove to the side, sliding across the soot on his stomach and picking up his sidearm. He gripped the handle and rested his fist on his wrist, firing a steady shot as he slid. Runa howled as the bullet grazed her shoulder. She held up her palm and sent a blue beam of light at Forse.

  How the Helheim can they fight that?

  “Tyr?” Forse bellowed. “What’s the deal with the subject’s blue hand laser?”

  I pressed a thought into Tyr’s head.

  “Elsa says it looks like the same blue beam Runa used to capture her, only in that case the beam acted as a pulley, not a blaster. Runa must be able to manipulate it at will.”

  “Great,” Forse muttered, as he dodged another beam.

  “Elsa also thinks it’s a temporary ability stemming from the crystal Runa ingested, and that whatever powers it gave her will wear off. Hopefully soon,” Tyr relayed, as he drew his sword and swung at Tosk. Tosk met the strike with one of his own, the clang of metal on metal echoing off the stone building.

  “Ja, well.” Forse rolled behind a boulder as Runa fired again. “Any time this particular power wants to go away, I’d be okay with that.”

  Forse popped up, holding his arm straight and taking two quick shots with his pistol. A loud shriek pierced the morning air as Runa let out a wail. Her arm hung limp at her side, a fresh current of blood dripping from her shoulder.

  “You need backup, Justice?” Tyr forced Tosk’s sword to the side. He took the opportunity to drive the elf to the ground with a firm front-kick. Tosk landed hard on his back, skidding across the dust and dropping his sword in the process. My brother pounced, sword drawn as he launched himself at Tosk. Tosk hissed, rolling out of the way as Tyr pierced the empty ground with his blade.

  “Arugh!” Tyr growled, withdrawing his sword and gripping the hilt with two hands. He swung in a perfect arc, his weapon landing where Tosk should have been. But the elf rolled again. Tyr swore so loudly, Odin probably heard him all the way in Asgard.

  But Tyr’s curse didn’t drown out the sound that paralyzed my soul with a fear I’d felt on just one other occasion. Although Forse’s cry barely registered on the screen in my brother’s mind, I zeroed in on the image of the god I would have done anything for. Forse lay on the ground, clutching his chest and gasping. On the other side of the boulder, Runa shot one final beam. It missed Forse by inches, striking the rock near his head and causing an explosion that sent shards of stone flying across the field. She held tight to her bleeding arm as she turned around and ran.

  My world sank to a singular viewpoint, as I gave in to the fear coursing through my energy.

  Tyr! I mentally shook my brother. Forse is down!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MY BROTHER CALLED OFF his elf hunt and switched viewpoints, zeroing in on his fallen friend. “Brynn,” he barked. “I’m flying Forse out of here. Finish what you can and catch me as I go by.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tyr’s view alternated, showing Brynn driving her rapier through the heart of the unknown dark elf. She wore a perverse look of pleasure as she withdrew the blade, the heel of her boot pressed firmly against the elf’s stomach. His eyes bulged as blood spewed from the hole in his chest. He drew one last gurgling breath, and as I watched, his spirit withdrew from his body, speeding through the sky and off to whatever level of Helheim the goddess of the underworld deemed appropriate. If its muddied color was any indication, the spirit was heading for Hel’s inner sanctum.

  Please let Forse be okay, please let Forse be okay, I chanted to myself.

  I won’t let him leave us. I’m almost to his side, Tyr pointed out. And he was—while I’d been wrestling with mind-numbing fear, he’d b
een flying. He dove behind the boulder, scooping Forse into his arms and dodging dragon fire as he carried our friend toward Brynn. She jumped as Tyr passed, grabbing onto his leg and holding tight while he flew them away from the wreckage, past the stream of fire, and through the forest.

  Hurry, I pleaded.

  I am. Tyr’s focus didn’t shift until he reached the shore of a small lake. He dove, depositing Brynn on the ground and cradling Forse as he touched down. I tried not to sob as I took in Forse’s strong form, crumpled in the arms of War.

  We need to heal him! I urged.

  A tense rumble emanated from my brother’s chest. “Brynn, confirm there are no intruders in a twenty-meter radius. I’ll shield the perimeter once it’s secure.”

  “On it.” Brynn blurred around the circle, returning in the time it took Tyr to lay Forse on the ground. “Perimeter’s secure.”

  “Excellent.” Tyr held his hand to the sky. A silvery dome encased the area. Forse drew a shaky breath, and Tyr zeroed in on my love. He shut off every screen in his mind but two—the one that continually scanned the dome for threats, and the one that studied his friend. Forse’s skin was unnaturally pale, and his lips were lightly tinted blue.

  They’re blue? Oh gods!

  I know. Tyr’s eyes narrowed. This isn’t good.

  Tyr placed his hand to Forse’s chest and waited six seconds. His mind registered the slowing of Force’s heartbeat.

  “Skit,” he swore. “What the Hel did Runa do to you?”

  Forse kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth to speak.

  He can move! Relief surged through me.

  Forse opened his eyes slightly as he rasped out his words. “One of Runa’s crazy hand beams hit my chest. I think it hit my heart.”

  Oh my gods. A blast to the heart under any circumstances was dangerous, but Odin only knew what kind of powers the Svartalfheim crystal had given Runa. If it was dark magic, and Runa had blasted Forse’s heart…we were lucky he hadn’t been killed on impact.