Page 51 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

“Did I hear right? Your last name is very familiar to me. You wouldn’t be related to Émilien Elasalor, would you?”

“Yes, sir, he is my father.”

The king’s black brows rose in surprise. “Really? I had no idea he had a daughter. That would make Hel your mother?”

Shalendra nodded and glanced at her grandfather. “Because of a certain rebellious relation, they chose to keep my identity a secret until recently.”

The king’s mouth thinned. “Wise decision. Loki is a trying individual, isn’t he? When you think he is reformed, he does something stupid.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Loki muttered. “And I’m just misunderstood, that’s all.”

Brath’s laughter filled the room, but he didn’t say anything and tried to stifle the outburst. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat a couple of times.

Sondor glared at his cousin, then walked around Cyran and Shalendra to stand in front of Loki. “This will be the second time I give you my trust, mischief maker, but so help me…"

He moved in close, almost touching Loki’s nose, his expression savage. At that moment, Cyran saw the fierce warrior his enemies knew in battle—the enemies now dwelling in the land of the dead, deep in Niflheimr.

“If you go back on your word and do not help your granddaughter or Cyran, who is like a son to me, then I will personally hunt you down and kill you myself. Believe me when I say you will spend the rest of your days in extreme agony. You will take them where they need to go, and you will right the wrongs you have wrought through your selfish actions. Do you understand me?”

Loki exhaled and nodded. “Yes, sir. In this case, I regret every decision I made. You may not believe me, but I did try to stop the Fae and elf healers’ plan. Even the demon tried to help me, but the Fae’s dark magic is too strong for one person. If we band together, we may be able to defeat them. I give you my word and pledge my allegiance to my granddaughter and her mate.”

He locked his gaze on Shalendra’s. “I pledge to protect and keep her safe, ending this once and for all.” He turned back to face the king. “I will do everything possible to find and save Olivier and Jessica.”

Sondor briefly stared at Loki, then nodded and took a few steps back. “I will hold you to your word, Loki. I grant you leave of Jötunheimr. Your sentence is served. BUT.” His chin lifted in a regal pose. “I retain the right to reverse this pardon if you should fail this mission or harm comes to Cyran or Shalendra.”

Loki turned and offered one hand to Shalendra and the other to Cyran. “Take my hands, and I will take us to the last place Olivier, Jessica, and Azazel were.”

Shalendra glanced at the king and mouthed thank you, then laid her hands over Cyran’s and Loki’s.

The icy-covered world flowed away, morphing into a cacophony of colors as they sped through space at light speed. Cyran could not distinguish individual stars, planets, or objects they should be seeing.

He wanted to ask Loki how this was possible—how he could travel at this speed. He couldn't think of anyone, not even Heimdall, who could accomplish such a feat.

No sooner had he opened his mouth than he found himself back in a familiar hallway. Loki had brought them back to Castle Hartheim, and, from the tiny swastika fashioned around the door’s eyepiece, they had returned during World War II.

“I don’t remember this door.” Shalendra frowned. “Loki, where are we?”

“Haman had Fer-Diorich create several alternate hallways. If you open the door in the main hallway, you will see the regular hall. This door, however, is spelled and will open to the morgue. Close it and quickly reopen the door, and you will be in this hall. The room behind this door is where he held your aunt and uncle.”

Shalendra wrapped her hand around the doorknob, but Loki stopped her, laying his hand over hers. “Be certain this is what you want. When I was last here, just before my imprisonment on Jötunheimr, they were both in bad shape. You might not find what you wish.”

She stared at his hand, then nodded and twisted the knob. The door swung inward. Besides a soft blue light in the room's far corner, the interior remained black, even though the hall’s light should have filtered through the doorway.

Cyran moved in front of her, not allowing her to face whatever remained in the room. Stepping inside, he waited with bated breath, letting his senses soar through the good-sized space.

From the back of the room, he felt rather than saw a shadowy movement slink to one side. On the edge of his vision, it moved again, now closer. He forced his body to remain motionless.

Something stalked him as if he were the prey.Shalendra, can you hear me?

Yes.

Slowly move back into the hallway so whatever this is cannot see you. Make sure Loki stays with you. Something is in this room—something foul.

Is that what I feel? Like I bathed in dirty oil?

He silently chuckled. Interesting description, but yes, dirty oil describes it. I understand you can fight, my starlight, but stay outside in the hall—for me.

He edged away from the door, his gaze moving around the room. From the corner of his field of vision, Shalendra pressed against Loki, inching them back into the hall.

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