Perfekt Balance (The Ære Saga Book 3) Page 5

  Five pairs of eyes turned to our mortal, who took a bow amidst our applause. “I hate that y’all need a backup com device in case the dark elves confiscate your phones,” she grumbled.

  “Luck favors the prepared. Remember?” Tyr winked. “How do these work?”

  “Remove the wrapping and place them sticky-side down on the inside of your forearm.” We all did as Mia instructed. In seconds, the clear device adapted its texture to be a perfekt match to our skin.

  “The ultimate camouflage—well done, flicka,” Brynn praised.

  “Thanks,” Mia said. “To turn them on, you’ll need to press your pointer finger to the vein that runs in the center of your wrist, then speak the name of the person you want to call—the coms are coded to recognize your fingerprint and your voice, so nobody else can activate them. Worst-case scenario, if your phones are taken and you’re separated from the group, you can use these to call each other for help. They can also send and receive electronic transmissions like e-mails, but we’ve designed them so there’s no digital trace.”

  “Meaning?” I asked.

  “Meaning, if one of you is captured and your abductor somehow figures out you have a communication device on your arm, we don’t want said abductor to be able to force you to activate the com, then trace the other three devices. These communicators make it impossible to track their user’s location through an IP address or whatever magic passes for internet service in Svartalfheim. And since there’s no fairy dust involved, these devices will work anywhere—even, God forbid, in Hel’s dark magic-laced inner sanctum.” Mia crossed her arms.

  Tyr frowned. “Let’s not go back there. Brynn, what’s our weapon count?”

  Brynn held out her hand, and Henrik passed the backpack. She shouldered it and tightened the straps, before turning back to Tyr. “Forse has a broadsword, a nanomolecular particle accelerator, and a pistol. Anything else?”

  “The locator.” Forse tucked the Asgardian GPS tablet in the pocket of his cargos.

  “And the locator.” Brynn nodded. “I’ve got my rapier, dagger, and my killer right hook. Tyr, you’ve got your broadsword, a handgun, and…anything else?”

  Tyr held up his palms. “I don’t need anything else. I’ve got these.”

  “Excellent. And Elsa, here.” Brynn held out a small blade. I tried to wave it away, but she pressed it into my hands. “Take it. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but use this dagger if you need to. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, tucking the weapon through the belt loop of my black skinny jeans. Since my role on this mission was a peacekeeping one, I’d passed on wearing the regulation cargos donned by my friends. I’d also broken with the all-black vibe, choosing a long sleeveless shirt in pale blue. The soothing color was a known mood relaxer, something I intended to use to my every advantage.

  “So that’s the weapon count.” Brynn turned to my brother. “Tyr, what’s the strategy once we touch down?”

  Tyr crossed his arms, his biceps flexing with the movement. “Strategy’s simple—we drop in, meet the dark elves at a mountain range near the drop site, exchange the crystal for the fugitive, and Bifrost out. Anyone who gets separated should find their way back to the drop site, call for Heimdall, and return to Arcata. But if, Odin forbid, you’re captured, do not try to escape. Dark elves aren’t smart enough to strategize, and they’ll kill you before they ransom you. Just sit tight, gather as much intel as you can, and scream my name in your head. I’ll hear you and track you down.”

  “Unless there’s a dark magic block. You can’t read minds through thick fields of the black stuff. If you find yourself in one of those, or if Tyr gets captured, call for me.” I looked at each of my friends. “So far as I know, Tyr’s is the only head I can press my thoughts into, but I can hear anyone who consciously opens their mind to mine. If you do that, it’ll be a one-way communication, but at least you’ll have a way to reach someone.”

  Brynn turned to Tyr. “So we’re clear on strategy?”

  “Yes,” Tyr confirmed. “Forse, keep physical contact with Elsa until it’s time for you to make the exchange. At that time, Elsa, stick close to me and Brynn, and do your calming thing on the dark elves. If everything goes well, we’ll be home in time for dinner.”

  “Promise?” Mia turned to Tyr. With her head buried in his chest, I couldn’t see her face, but fear radiated off her back, filling the air around her with a quivering energy.

  “I wish I could.” Tyr rubbed his thumbs just above Mia’s hips. “But I can promise to return as soon as I can. I love you, prinsessa. Henrik, take care of my girl.”

  “I will,” Henrik vowed. “And don’t worry, War. My girl will take care of you.”

  When Tyr rolled his eyes, Henrik winked at Brynn, and motioned for Mia to follow him to the porch. They stood together, waving with a calm I knew neither of them felt, while Tyr glanced at Forse, Brynn, and me.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “As we can be,” I said honestly.

  Tyr nodded, and I knew he understood. As much as I wished I had more time to practice, being of Asgard meant you learned a lot of things on the job. Trial by fire was a way of life. And retrieving the perp who’d committed the crime, from the realm populated by the darkest souls in the cosmos, with only a partially trained Unifier to keep things from going downhill…we were definitely walking headfirst into the flames.

  My brother raised his head to the sky and let out a yell. “Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!”

  The next moment, a brilliant rainbow shot down from the sky, engulfing us in its luminescence. The colors bounced off each other, the vibrations of each shade emitting a different level of energy. I stepped into the golden hue and pulled Forse close to me, knowing the color would soothe his anxiety. He wrapped his arms around me and tucked me to his chest, shielding me from the fierce wind that howled while the Bifrost sucked us upward. I clung to the corded muscles of Forse’s back and willed away the nausea that coursed through me. We shot through Midgard’s atmosphere, past its moon, and through the cosmos, en route to the black realm. Having my bones nearly sucked through my skin in an intergalactic rainbow vacuum made me inordinately queasy, though I’d take the Bifrost every day if it meant Forse would hold me like this.

  As I pressed my cheek to Forse’s chest and committed the sensation to memory for extremely frequent future use, the Bifrost shifted. We started our descent. I bent my knees and prepared for the impact, but before I felt the familiar jolt, there was a pressure at the back of my legs. Instead of stumbling across an unfamiliar field when we touched down, I found myself cradled safely in Forse’s arms, my hands around his neck and my forehead pressed against his. He rose slowly from his landing crouch, but he didn’t let me go.

  “Well, hei there, you.” I smiled up at him.

  “Hei.” Forse lifted his head just enough to scan the area, then turned his attention back on me. “I thought, you know, in case it was an ambush, I should hold on to you so I could port us out of here.”

  Porting was Forse’s gift—he could instantaneously transport himself and two passengers to any location within a realm. It came in handy when moving perpetrators, since Asgard’s enemies were often tailed by bounty hunters, rival criminals, or co-conspirators hoping to take out the justice god.

  “You’re sweet.” I reached up to touch his cheek with one finger. Then I turned my head to study our landing area. Black soot covered the field where we’d touched down, and stretched clear to a horizon peppered with plants that looked an awful lot like cactus. A jagged mountain range stood on our other side, easily two kilometers high, and circled by a crimson ribbon. I narrowed my eyes. “Is that a river? Why is it red?”

  “Because it’s made of lava.” Forse nodded. “The mountains are dormant volcanoes.”

  “But if they’re dormant, how is the lava—”

  “That’s the million-dollar question. Welcome to Svartalfheim.” Brynn took her time righting h
erself. When she stood, her face was tinted grey. The poor thing got horrible Bifrost sickness. She preferred to travel by pegasus, but she’d sent her mare, Fang, back to Asgard to guard Freya. She swayed back and forth, and I wondered if she regretted her act of altruism.

  Tyr completed his surveillance, and sheathed his broadsword. “We’re clear. But there could be scouts in the mountains. Let’s move.” With that, Tyr stalked ahead, his sights set on the mysterious red river traversing the landscape.

  Forse set me on my feet with a lingering look, and took my hand in one of his. With the other, he held the nanomolecular particle accelerator at eye level. We moved together for five minutes, following Tyr in silence until we reached the base of the mountain. When Tyr held up a hand, we circled around. He examined the rocky overhang, and motioned for us to step underneath it. We gathered in the makeshift shelter. Neither Forse nor Brynn lowered their weapons.

  “Brynn, test the coms.” Tyr didn’t take his eyes off the horizon.

  “Yes, sir.” Brynn tucked her rapier into her belt and adjusted her backpack. Between the extra ammunition and Mia’s bagged lunch, it was stuffed full. Brynn giggled. “You want a sandwich?”

  “Just test the coms.” Tyr bit back a smile.

  Brynn held her arm up, pressing her pointer finger to the center of her wrist. “Call Tyr,” she ordered. And just like that, Brynn’s forearm fogged, then glassed over to form a screen bearing her reflection.

  When Tyr’s forearm emitted a soft hum, he pressed his finger against it. The color ebbed, and Brynn’s face appeared in its surface.

  “Sandwich?” Brynn grinned at her arm.

  “Stuff it, Aksel.” Tyr tapped his wrist again, and Brynn’s screen went dark.

  “I can’t believe you hung up on me.” Brynn feigned indignation. “Whatever. Let’s test yours.” She pointed to Forse and me. “Call Elsa,” she commanded her arm. “And Forse.”

  Our arms hummed, and when we touched our wrists, Brynn’s face filled the surface of mine.

  “Mine works,” I confirmed.

  “Mine too,” Forse seconded.

  “Awesome. These should help us stay in contact.” Brynn tapped her screen off.

  Tyr cracked his neck. “Let’s just not get separated.”

  “Deal,” Brynn chirped. She drew her rapier again and stared at the landscape. “Is this where they’re supposed to meet us?”

  “My source told me to stand under the innermost overhang near the Kopfler mountains at forty degrees latitude.” Tyr checked the mountain range before glancing at the sky. “We’re at the correct latitude, and unless Heimdall altered the coordinates on the Bifrost, this should be the Kopfler range.”

  As Tyr spoke, Brynn kept watch on the horizon. In the distance, a cluster of dark figures led a hooded one across the soot. “We’ve got company,” Brynn said. She gripped the hilt of her rapier.

  “We sure do. Game on.” Forse narrowed his eyes and positioned himself so he stood in front of me. Tyr moved beside him, so they stood shoulder to shoulder. I shifted my heels so my feet were planted firmly in the soot, and grounded myself to the black earth. I opened the energy centers in my feet, drawing strength from the depths of Svartalfheim’s core. When I was securely anchored to the realm, I pushed my aura out so it pressed against my friends, and sent waves of calming energy throughout the protective bubble. They pulsed along the perimeter, bathing our party in a slightly-less-anxious glow. The energy coming back at me dimmed as Tyr and Brynn’s energies relaxed infinitesimally. Not my best work, but it’s better than nothing.

  I’d only managed to soothe two-thirds of our party. Forse clung to his tension as he reached back to lace his fingers through mine. He put his other hand on his holstered pistol and spoke in a low voice.

  “Here comes trouble.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “SNOKART, TYR.” THE TALLEST of the dark elves raised a hand in greeting. The rogue team leader stood half a head taller than his comrades, and he wore a patch that seemed to designate some kind of rank. Curious. I’d been unaware there was order among dark elf outlaws.

  “Snokart, Tosk,” Tyr said in response. He and Forse held their positions slightly in front of me, while Brynn stood at my side. My friends feigned calm, but each stood with their shoulders pulled back, their knees slightly bent, and their hands on their weapons. They didn’t trust the dark elves any further than they could throw them.

  Judging from the malicious energy vibrating off the elves, my friends were spot on with this assessment.

  Work harder, Elsa. I drew a slow breath through my nose, and expanded my aura so it slid around our group to bump against the approaching dark elf party. On my exhale, I pushed another wave of calm to the perimeter of the bubble. It nudged my friends, bringing Brynn and Tyr’s energy down another notch, but Forse, Tosk, and the rest of the foreigners remained unaffected. What am I doing wrong?

  “Brynn,” I whispered as our visitors drew closer. “What’s the thing on Tosk’s jacket mean?”

  “It’s a colonel’s badge.” She barely moved her lips as she spoke.

  “If these are outlaws, why is he still wearing his military insignia?”

  Brynn shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t have a lot of clothes?” She stepped closer to me, and held her rapier tight.

  “Hverte skille vas min keptlevko?” Tyr gestured to the woman at the back of the group. The dark elves parted, revealing the hooded figure of a herculean woman. She was tall, easily more than six feet. Skin tight leather pants clung to her toned legs, and she wore a matching black vest that left her muscular arms exposed. Although her wrists were bound, and a bag covered her head, I had no doubt she’d be able to overpower her captors with the flick of one enormous man-hand.

  So why doesn’t she?

  “Yes. This is the captive you requested.” Tosk slipped into English, which was a huge relief, since my Svartish skills were remedial, at best.

  “Where’s our payment?” The female to Tosk’s right stepped forward. A fierce wind whipped across the plane, lifting her long white hair to expose high, pointed ears, not unlike those of my beloved Alfheim meadow elves. The dark elves and the light ones shared certain physical traits, but their souls were polar opposites. Even without calling on my abilities, I knew this group had evil intentions. I pushed the thought into my brother’s head. He registered my voice and opened his mind to mine.

  This is wrong, I communicated silently. I’m giving them my best dose of cooperative energy, and all they’re sending back is malicious intent.

  I feel it, too. Tyr’s words sounded in my head, though he continued to face the elves with an impassive expression. We’ll grab Runa and go. If the exchange turns south, let Forse port you out of here. Brynn and I will hold them off until he can come back for us.

  Runa’s already done her worst, I sent back. Let’s just leave now while we—

  “Did you not hear me, Asgardian?” The white-haired girl spat the name like it was a dirty word. “I said, where’s our payment?”

  “Bagatha.” Tosk silenced the female elf with a look.

  Tyr eyed Bagatha levelly before pulling a coin-sized stone from his pocket. “The prisoner?”

  “Fair enough. Let’s allow your justice god to make the exchange. I presume that’s why he is here.” Tosk took the ropes binding Runa and jerked them forward. Runa stumbled, landing on her knees as she fell. Tosk hissed, “Get up.”

  Runa pushed herself to her feet, the bag still covering her head, and Tosk gripped her elbow in his hand. He guided her forward, standing halfway between his party and ours.

  “Forseti? The exchange?” Tosk stared at Forse, who bristled at his full name. I sent a ripple of calm across the perimeter of my aura, but it brushed right past him. He wasn’t receptive to my influence at all. That wasn’t good.

  Let’s just go. I pushed my thought into Tyr’s head again. I’m failing—Forse isn’t open to my unifying. Tosk’s energy is so dark it’s almost nonexistent, and he’s got
so many blockers up, I can’t see his next choice—I think it’s deliberate. And we don’t know what that stone does, but I’m sure it’s more than we think if it’s worth as much to him as Fenrir. Don’t do this.

  You want me to just let Runa go? After everything she did? A flash of darkness swept across Tyr’s mind. Think of the evil she’s capable of now that she’s spent time in the dark realm. She could do irreparable harm, not only to Asgard, but to Alfheim…Vanaheim…His thoughts broke and an overwhelming feeling of sorrow came from his love center. Think about what she might do to Midgard.

  I loved my brother, I really did. But for an immortal war god, he had a dangerously soft spot for the weaker realms.

  I sighed. I understand you have to do this. Make the swap, but do it quickly. You and Brynn are the only ones my unifying seems to be working on, and I don’t want anyone getting hurt.

  I closed my mind and focused on sending cooperative energy to the edge of my bubble.

  Tyr nodded his thanks, and handed the stone to Forse. “Forse, make the exchange.”

  Forse squeezed my hand before passing me off to Brynn. With the stone clenched in his palm, he marched toward Runa. Although both of his guns were holstered, Forse held his free hand over the non-implosive pistol’s handle. When he reached Tosk, he exchanged the stone for Runa’s ropes. He pulled handcuffs out of his back pocket, slapped them around her wrists, and lifted the bag high enough to catch a glimpse of her angular jaw, full lips, and strong nose. “It’s her,” he spat, before forcefully lowering the bag and leading Runa back to our party. Disgust was etched all the way from his narrowed eyes to his downturned mouth. His expression mirrored my feelings. Being this close to Runa for the first time since the incident left an unsettling feeling in my gut. Images from the last time I’d seen her flooded my brain, and as an acidic liquid rose against the lump in my throat, I swallowed it back down and refocused on my grounding. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of making me ill.