Page 21 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

His thoughts returned to the first time he had seen the brilliant blue-green water. Falling deeper into Shalendra’s gaze, memories surfaced from the war on Midgard. He helped the Allies push back the German army from the island of Sicily and later liberated Italy.

After treating the thousands of Allied and even a few German soldiers, he took a single afternoon for himself. He swam in the warm waters before returning to Europe to rejoin Lamruil and Ailuin in Germany. That one afternoon had been bliss.

“Well?” Shalendra stared at him, her annoyance beating at him, yet like the warm waters of the Mediterranean, her eyes pulled him deeper into their teal depths.

He gave her a wry grin. “When put like that, I can do nothing else but help, now can I? I am an honorable elf and pride myself on doing what’s right, so yes, Shalendra, I will stay and aid you in any way I can. I will also keep my oath to your parents and guard you from harm until I get you back to Helheimr.”

She shook her head, her long black curls bouncing. “No. You will return me to my home in France. Until I know I can visit my mother’s realm without it killing me, I will remain on Midgard.”

He gave her a slight bow. “Your wish is my command, my lady.” Straightening, he caught her unamused expression and laughed. After dealing with his father, he hadn’t felt much like laughing. Her eyes narrowed, and he coughed back the remaining joy that threatened to break free. He was beginning to enjoy this adventure. Feeling more like himself than he had in a while, he turned to the two death gods.

“So, now what? Are we stuck here?”

Arawn frowned, which morphed into a scowl as the seconds passed. Finally, he shook his head and glared at Osiris. “Have you put a spell over this realm because I can’t apparate?”

“No. While this realm is ancient and mostly unknown, I know of no magic to keep anyone here. Have you tried to go to a different place? Try apparating to Freyja’s quarters in Asgard.”

Arawn’s worried expression morphed into fear. “And have her furious because I invaded her private space? I think not.”

“Go to Idunn’s garden,” Shalendra suggested. “Even if she is home, she would never do anything to hurt you. Anyone who needs her help is welcome.” A warm smile appeared, and her already beautiful face became mesmerizing. “I am quite positive you will be greeted with warmth and sweetness—including a delicious treat. She feeds everyone who shows up on her doorstep, so to speak.”

With doubt visible in Arawn's eyes, he nodded, closing his eyelids. A second later, he disappeared.

Cyran grunted. “Well, that worked. Doesn’t bode well for the Celtic Otherworld, though, does it?”

Osiris shook his head. “No, it does not.” He turned his black eyes on Cyran, who had to work to keep his expression neutral. The last thing he wanted to do was offend a god, much less a death god, even if he did seem nice.

“If Arawn can’t enter his realm,” Osiris continued. “He has either been locked out, or it's no longer there. In which case, it could mean complete devastation for the Nine Worlds, the god’s eventual death since he is tied to the realm, or something worse we haven’t thought of yet.”

“Wow,” Cyran shook his head. “Nothing warm and fuzzy about those. In fact, I’d say the options are downright terrifying. If a death god dies, the people remain and are, for lack of a better term, immortal—both good and evil. Not a world I would want to live in.”

“Nor I,” Shalendra and Castien muttered at the same time.

She frowned, her gaze staring off into the distance. He could almost hear her thoughts tumbling over one another in her mind. With a loud exhale, she met Osiris’s black gaze. “Do all death realms have places like this that aren’t normally accessible?”

He nodded. “Yes. As the worlds and people change, our realms adapt. If a culture stops believing one aspect of the religion, then the realms change to what's needed at that moment, shelving the unused space and creating new areas that fit the culture’s morphing beliefs. Christianity is one example. It began as a way for the Hebrews to become better Jews. Instead, a follower of Jesus disagreed with the other apostles and created his own religion.”

He watched the Egyptian god slightly rock back on his heels a few times as if he enjoyed relating history. “Over the centuries,” Osiris added, “the tumultuous religion has changed so much that the once peaceful heaven now includes a fire-and-brimstone hell for those who believe the ancient stories about a devil. It was only a bedtime story, like the bogeyman, so children would mind their parents. The church adopted the idea, using the Hebrew word “ha-Sa?an” for the same reason. The name means 'opposer' or 'adversary' and is Lucifer’s job title, nothing more. The Christian Church’s idea was for the people to do as the popes and bishops said, not ask questions or think for themselves, getting them to abandon their religions for this new one. What better way than fear?”

Shalendra’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. I had no idea. Growing up in France, I learned about modern Christianity but never paid much attention to its history. So, there’s no devil, Satan, or Lucifer—whatever name he goes by?”

“Oh, Lucifer is real. I feel for the guy. He has to spend eternity living under a guise and getting accused of vile things when his only job is to guard Earth and keep the humans lawful and moral. His job was nearly impossible, but without God’s presence to remind humans about the good in life, more and more evil crept in until nothing could hold it back. By then, the Christian faith was everywhere, and the Church decided it needed more leverage to get people on board with their teachings, so they taught that God punished his favorite angel by relegating him to what the humans called hell and named him Satan.”

“And demons?” Castien asked. “Are they real or fictitious? I mean, I know we were told there was one impersonating the dwarf king, but if they aren’t real, then what replaced King Windsword?”

Cyran met the dwarf’s green gaze. “Oh, demons are very real and come in all forms, as with every other race of creatures. I have met several demons I would trust to guard my back, while there are others I would sooner kill than be near. No race or species is all good or all bad.”

“And to think I thought you weren’t all that smart,” a familiar voice said.

Cyran turned to Arawn, who returned with a friend. Ignoring the god, he smiled at the beautiful goddess standing beside him. He tilted his head. “Freyja, it is good to see you again.”

The goddess returned his smile and stepped closer, cupping his cheek with her hand. “I wondered where the twins had sent you. I do not think they understood just how difficult your task would become or that I would find you in a death realm, no less.” Her face lit up when she saw Shalendra. Opening her arms, the matching amethysts in her necklace and the golden filigreed amulet across her forehead glittered as if they, too, were happy to see the young elf.

Shalendra walked into the goddess’s embrace and buried her face in Freyja’s shoulder. “I am so glad you’re here.”

After a few pats on her back, the goddess leaned back. Tucking a curled finger under the young girl’s chin, she raised Shalendra’s face. “I did not expect to find you here either, my dear. Your parents are quite worried about you.”

A tear slid down Shalendra’s cheek. It was the first deep emotion Cyran had seen from her, and he couldn’t help but wonder about it. “I failed. Not only did I not find Uncle Olivier and Aunt Jessica, but I managed to get myself arrested and thrown in the dwarf prison.” She shrugged. “I’m so sorry.”

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