Page 38 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

The girl standing close to Shalendra straightened her shoulders and met his gaze with steady ice-blue eyes, which was disconcerting since the rest of her body was in various shades of gray. “I am Astrid Iverson, and this is my sister, Ingrid.” She tilted her head, her gaze narrowing. “And who are you?”

“My name is Cyran. I'm a doctor.” He glanced up at Shalendra and then back to Astrid. “And my lovely friend is named Shalendra.”

Astrid moved closer to her sister, who was lying unmoving on the ground, her body still curled in the fetal position, as if she would much rather sleep than interact with any of them. After a glance at Ingrid, Astrid glared at him. “We don’t like doctors. They aren’t nice.”

He nodded, his chest tightening at the pained expression on her face. “You’re right. Not all doctors are nice to people, and I apologize for that. I care very much about my patients, which bothers me when I can’t help them. I don’t like seeing people hurting. It makes me hurt—here.” He pointed to his heart.

She pursed her lips but continued to give him a sideways glare as if she could not decide if he was telling the truth. He would have to tread carefully to win her and her sister over.

“He is telling the truth,” Shalendra added. “I think he may sometimes care too much and has difficulty letting go. Why are only the two of you here? Have all the other spirits moved on to their new lives?”

Astrid shrugged. “I woke up alone and started searching for someone to tell me where to go. I have no idea how long I waited, but finally, a light appeared at the far end of the room.”

She pointed to the corner by the door, which was cattycorner from where they stood. “The light wasn’t bright but like a dull red. It scared me, so I hid behind this pile and found—” She turned her wide-eyed stare at Shalendra, her thin lips trembling.

“It’s okay, sweetling. No one can hurt you anymore.”

“But,” the girl whispered. “He can hurtyou.”

“Who are you talking about?” Cyran asked, something telling him he wouldn’t like her answer, but he needed to know. “Was it one person? More than one person?”

Astrid nodded. “Most of the time, I only saw one man who claimed to be a…” She thought a moment, and then her slight eyebrows rose. “A healer. That’s what he called himself instead of a doctor. He was the worst, but two other men came a few times after the healer left. They weren’t nice either.”

“That’s not what upset you the most, though, was it?” Shalendra held out her hand.

The child stared at it momentarily, then threaded her fingers through Shalendra’s, her eyes lighting up for the first time since they had found her. With her very blond hair and blue eyes, she would have grown up to be a beautiful woman. If only she had been given the chance.

“Can you tell me about your family? Where you lived—what happened to your parents?” He held his breath, unsure if she was ready to talk about them, but she surprised him with a sweet grin once more. “Mymóðir,mymama was so pretty. Myfaðirwas handsome, like you. He worked in the church.”

“He was a preacher?”

Astrid nodded. “I liked the church. It was small, but I felt safe. Faðir disagreed with what the Führer was doing to people and promised to help as many people as possible. The Nazis came to the house in the night and took him and Móðir. I tried to hide Ingrid, but they found us and took us to a hospital. A few days later, early in the morning, they put us on a bus with many other people and brought us here.”Her eyes kept moving to the back of the pile of bodies next to them.

“Sweetling,” Cyran said in a soft voice. “What’s back there? What do you keep looking at?”

Hanging her head, her long, unkempt hair falling over her face, she scooted behind her sister’s prone body and pointed. “I foundme,” she whispered.

This woke Ingrid, who moved, turning over to see what her twin discovered. “I don’t know, Astrid. How do you know that’s not someone else’s foot?”

Astrid squatted, wrapping her thin arms around her legs and placing her chin on her knees as she studied the foot protruding from under the pile. “Remember when I fell off the rock wall behind the church when we were younger? I hurt my foot and had a deep cut?”

She pointed and met her sister’s gaze. “That’s the scar from that accident.”

Ingrid nodded. “You’re right. Your foot bled a long time, didn’t it?”

Astrid smiled. “It did. You didn’t believe Mama when she said the bleeding would soon stop.”

“Nope,” Ingrid shook her head. “Can you find me? I want to see my body too.”

Shalendra rose and turned away. Cyran glanced at her as she placed her hand over her mouth. Her eyes shut tight and tears flowing down her face, his heart ached. He rubbed the area with his fist and tried to ease the grip strangling the organ from the little one’s words.

How could he make this right? His gaze followed Astrid as she scooted next to her sister, wrapping her arm around her too-thin shoulders and holding her, the two rocking back and forth.

His stepfather had stolen their precious lives. No one could make this right. Ever.

He cleared his throat, drawing the two girls’ attention. “I am so sorry, but I will make certain your bodies are buried at your father’s church, and if I can find your parents, I will put the four of you together in a beautiful little house just for you. In the meantime, Shalendra will ensure you both are taken to the Norse underworld where her mother lives.”

Shalendra turned and nodded, swiping one last time at the glistening wetness on her cheeks as she knelt in front of the twin girls. “My mother will take amazing care of you both. She will give you a new house where you and your parents can live. When I was around your age, I even lived there. It's a magical place to live. My mother’s brother is named Fenrir. You will love playing with him, just as I did. Would you like to go there?”

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