Page 127 of Dead Heat

His words made me feel better about sending all those ghosts to the afterlife when I first moved into the Castle.

“You don’t worry about anything here? No monsters?”

“No snakes?” Max added.

“Not in our section of the realm. I’ve heard there are dangerous areas like the shore of corpses.”

“Yes,” I quickly agreed. “Not a vacation spot.”

“There’s also a dragon, but it’s only supposed to bother bad people. I haven’t seen any signs to the contrary.”

I decided to spare him the gory details of Nidhogg’s exploits and let him enjoy his meat and beer in oblivion.

“I’m sorry you and your friends got dragged into this,” Oskar said. “I should’ve realized she wouldn’t stop at my death.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“What if you can’t get out of here? I’ve heard leaving is impossible.”

I opted not to tell him about the four men who failed to return before me. “Try not to worry about us. We got ourselves into this. It’s our job to get ourselves out again.”

“Godspeed,” he said. “Thank you for not taking me to save your friend. I know it must be a hard decision.”

I was beginning to think there was no such thing as an easy decision.

We left Oskar to his festival fare and consulted the map to decide on an exit strategy.

“Not trying to leave with a shade might make getting out of here a little easier,” Max said.

“Possibly.” I studied the map. “Can you swim or will you sink?”

“I can incorporate air into my body like a cork and float. Why?”

“Because it looks like we’re going to need to cross a river and we might not have a boat to do it.”

“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”

“First we have to make it through the cave.”

Max gave me a sidelong glance. “What’s in the cave?”

“It isn’t what’s in the cave. It’s what’s guarding it.”

He contemplated me. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

We followed the map in the direction of the river. There were two large bodies of water in Helheim—the river that delivered souls to the realm and another river within Helheim’s borders. Given the distance we’d traveled, this one had to be the latter.

“Hey, what do you know?” Max said, relentlessly chipper. “A bridge to cross.”

Up ahead, the river roared beneath a rickety wooden bridge.

“No sign of a troll,” I joked. “Maybe we don’t need to pay a toll.”

A glimpse of movement on the bridge told me we had more to fear than a troll requesting payment. I inhaled sharply.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked.

“Stay still.” I ducked behind the cherufe and peeked at the guardian of the bridge. A chainmail coat covered her torso and arms. Long flaxen hair flowed from beneath her iron helmet. In one hand, she gripped a sword. In the other, a shield.

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