Chapter 9

I f I had to come up with a word for the creature blinking huge gold reptilian eyes at us from the river, “snake” wasn’t the one I would have gone for. Fucking dragon was a better description.

The thing had a mane of spiky horns around its head, and hundreds more of the reedy tendrils coming from gills at the back of its jaws. It was greenish-blue in color, every third row of scales flashing bright blue.

It opened its mouth, and a long, equally bright blue tongue flicked out. Svangrior yelled, swinging his axe at the forked tongue. The snake moved faster than I thought possible, and more banging under the boat sounded, as we tipped dangerously to the left.

A louder bang brought my attention back to the inside of the boat — to the Prince. It had been his staff hitting the bottom of the karve . Shadows swirled around the top, even more than I had seen him conjure so far. He lifted the staff, and they rushed the snake, the force of their movement making his cloak billow out behind him.

The creature seemed to realize too late that the dark, smoky shapes were a threat. It tried to duck down below the surface, but the shadows solidified into hundreds of smaller snakes that wrapped around its throat and then its body, lifting it from the water instead. Within moments the whole monster had been pulled from the river, thrashing in the air and sending water flying. No amount of screeching or movement could shift the grip the shadow snakes had.

“She will suffocate soon enough,” said Svangrior, only just audible over the snake’s screeches.

The black shadow snakes vanished abruptly, dropping the huge river-snake back into the water with a splash that rocked the boat. I gripped the bench, ready for the attack, but none came.

When I rose cautiously, I saw the electric blue scales disappearing under the surface as the snake raced away. Dark shadows that reminded me of smoke moved around us, filling the sail on our boat. Slowly it began to move, the gentle current taking us again.

I turned back to Lhoris, helping Kara up onto the bench.

“Have you ever seen a fae with magic that strong?” I whispered. The warriors were talking quietly, and the Prince was staring in the direction the snake had gone.

“I haven’t even heard of a fae with magic that strong,” he replied quietly.

Kara was trembling as she squeezed in between us on the bench. “That thing was huge,” she said. “Why did he let it go? I’d have let it suffocate, like Svangrior said.”

Her little voice had turned fierce, and I felt a surge of both pride and alarm at her words.

“It didn’t need to be killed,” I said, then paused. Why had the Prince let it live? Surely not compassion. He was legendary for being merciless.

She scowled at me. “What good is it doing alive? It’s a monster!”

“It’s a predator, and this is where it lives. The lesson here? Don’t throw food in the root-river.”

“I never want to be on one of these rivers ever again,” she shuddered.

I didn’t answer her. Given that we were sailing to certain death, or worse, it was highly unlikely any of us ever would be.

* * *

The next six or so hours passed with no more sightings of river monsters. The bird calls resumed in the ever-thickening canopy overhead, and the sides of the tree root that held the river rose steadily until we were cocooned in a tunnel made from gnarled wood.

Ellisar’s banter had fallen away since the snake incident, and he continued carving his little piece of wood in silence, throwing uneasy glances about. The Prince and Frima had settled at the front of the boat, Svangrior at the back. I stayed in the middle of the karve , trying and failing to fight the drowsiness that the gentle movement of the vessel induced. Lhoris and I took turns to doze, whilst Kara curled up in the bottom of the boat.

In Yggdrasil you were taught to stay strong. Loss of sleep or appetite led to weakness, and that meant death. But that didn’t mean my sleep was easy. Nightmares filled with images of me killing my friends, of having the Starved Ones rip off chunks of my flesh, of the Shadow Court Prince’s black mask covering my own face as I drowned in liquid gold, plagued my fitful rest.

A thump on the wood of the boat woke me with a start.

“We are nearly at the Gates.” Frima was standing by the carved snake. I looked enviously at her black leathers, the multitude of weapons strapped to her body, and the long braids keeping her hair from her face. She was far better equipped to deal with the threats our journey held than I was. Lhoris and I had been ungraciously relieved of our hammers and scalpels before we left the workshop. My bag remained in my possession though, having been cursorily checked by Svangrior and deemed to be filled with clothes. The staff Lhoris had given me remained unseen, wrapped tightly in my furs.

“Woah.” Kara’s exclamation made me look from Frima to the view ahead.

* * *

I stared at the trunk of Yggdrasil . The actual tree of life.

The fact that I was in the presence of ultimate power and magic momentarily cowed all my other thoughts.

Ancient wood rose as high as my eye could see, the surface of the bark dotted with brightly-colored flowers and vivid green creepers.

Directly ahead, set into the bark and growing larger as we neared, were gates just as magnificent as any at the palace of the Gold Court.

They were, of course, made from gold. The two solid doors were covered in etchings showing glorious battle scenes, fae riding eagles and hawks, and raining beams of lethal light down on their enemies. Two ornate golden wings spread from the tall arched tops of the closed doors, nestled into the bark as though they’d always been there. When we got close, I saw two pedestals on either side of the Gates, each topped with a roaring golden lion, their feline faces set in vicious snarls.

Two things struck me as the karve slowed. First, the lions looked suspiciously realistic. But second, something was… wrong. Being around gold didn’t trigger my gold-vision, only touching it did, but I could always sense it. The enormous doors should have felt like the palace, humming with unspent power. But they didn’t. They felt off , somehow.

“You feel that?” I murmured to Lhoris.

He nodded, and Kara’s brows drew together. “You mean the Gates? They feel weird. Like unstable or something.”

Unstable was the right word. I wondered what they would look like through the gold-vision, and what the runes floating from them would say.

If I had some gold to touch, I could find out…

I reached for my bag, but Lhoris gave a loud and unnatural cough. When I looked at him, his expression was severe. Before I could question his reaction, the Prince moved past me, silent and swift. He came to a stop at the head of the boat, lifting his staff as we reached the Gates. Shadows flowed from the tip, easily melting through the tiny gap in the sealed doors.

With a loud, slow creak, the Gates swung open.

“That definitely shouldn’t be that easy.” The Gates were the only entrance to the Gold Court. No member of another Court should have been able to just swing them open with such little effort.

“Maybe they always open that easily from the inside?” suggested Kara quietly.

“Maybe,” I said doubtfully. “But the riverbank should have been guarded, too.”

Ellisar spoke. “Your Court’s arrogance has cost them.” He stood up and the boat wobbled.

“You must have had help from the inside,” said Lhoris. Ellisar shrugged.

Darkness moved across the boat as we floated into the shadow of the colossal tree trunk. My eyes moved from the warrior to the golden lions we were almost level with.

“We need no help. You’ve seen what our Prince can do.”

We sailed past the lions, and I felt a tiny stab of relief, which was swiftly replaced by complete awe as we entered the inside of the trunk of Yggdrasil .

In the center of the hollowed-out tree was a waterfall, surrounded by a ring of statues of the ancient gods. They faced outward, their backs to the cascade of water. I craned my neck to see where the waterfall was flowing from, but it stretched so high it disappeared into darkness. The light in the space seemed to be coming from the bark itself, a warm, daylight glow that reflected off the smooth, worn stone of the statues. Each effigy of the gods was at least fifteen feet tall, and I marveled at the detail in the faces of the statues I could see clearly as we moved gently away from the golden gates and further into the trunk. Serene Freya with her cats, fierce Thor with his hammer, mighty Odin with his raven.

The falling water should have been loud, it was flowing from such a great height, but all I could hear was a soothing trickle, and there were no ripples or waves in the pool. I peered into the clear water, unable to see the bottom.

“They’re so beautiful,” breathed Kara. “I don’t recognize her.” She pointed to a statue of a woman with pointed ears like a fae and beautifully delicate wings. Her expression was serene and wise.

“That’s a high-fae priestess.” The Prince’s rich voice startled me. “The gods called them the Vanir. They were psychic fae.”

I looked at him, the pale white of the stone statues reflecting off his grim mask as he stared at the statue of the high-fae female.

His gaze shifted, his eyes meeting mine. There was something calculating, and incredibly determined, in his look.

This male was not like Lord Orm. Lord Orm was a spoiled, overgrown child, entertained by pushing people to the limits of pain or subservience. This male, this Prince , was smart, and I was willing to bet, much harder to please. And I didn’t think he would be easy to dupe or cross.

As though he knew exactly what I was thinking, power flared in the gray depths of his irises. It felt almost like a challenge, and to my anger I found myself unable to hold his gaze.

I screwed my face up as I turned away. Seeking out the statue of Freya, almost out of view as we continued our path to the right, I sent a whispered prayer to the goddess. “Make me strong enough to deal with whatever he makes me endure. Give me the courage to do whatever needs to be done.”

Even if it was to end my own life, before that of my friends.