Page 42 of Court of Treachery

Harper frowned and drew closer to it. With ethereal fingers, she traced upon the moss-covered rock until she found the almost invisible crack. It was only the thickness of a hair, but she traced it up, where it bent horizontally to form the top of a doorway. A door into the mountain. Excitement fluttered in her stomach, as well as hope. Hope that she knew where Ragnar and the remainder of his kin were kept. Hope that the secret door would allow them safe passage. With a shudder, she recalled the goblin-filled halls and the carnage within. It would be suicidal to try to fight through the dwarven city.

The mountains grew hazy and faded as Harper surfaced from the vision. She looked at Vanir with wide eyes, gasping a deep breath.

“Do not delay, child,” Vanir said. “You have seen the way. Go. They depend on you.”

Harper stood—but swallowed as she hesitated.

“I am here when your questions seek answers,” said Vanir simply.

“Thank you.” Harper now had a pressing task, but it only just held back the tide of uncertainty within her. She bowed to Vanir, turned, and ran.

34

HARPER

The jarl looked disgruntled when she returned to him, but he brightened when she told him, between short, gasping breaths, what she had seen of Ragnar and his kin. “You describe a thirl door.”

“What’s a thirl door?”

The jarl set off at a jog, and she hastened after him. “It is a secret door, several of which are built into every dwarven city, that allow in good times for smuggling and illicit affairs, and more dire days for escape if the city is lost,” he said as they ran back to the königshalle to speak with Korrin. “Our kin from Afnirheim should have used them to escape, but maybe they did not concede defeat until too late, or perhaps they were cut off. We cannot know. To my knowledge, a thirl door has never been used for entry, but perhaps there is nothing to stop it.” With that, he hurried them both back to the königshalle, summoning her companions to join them.

König Korrin paced the hall, his brows furrowed, as Jarl Halvar finished recounting Harper’s time with the Vanir—and her accidental discovery. “You are certain?”

Halvar nodded. “From what the girl describes, it can only be a thirl door.”

“How many of our kin did you see there?” Korrin asked Harper.

Surprised by his attention, she bowed hurriedly to give herself a moment of composure. “Hundreds, König. All in a terrible state.”

“We cannot abandon our kin,” Korrin said decisively. “I thank the Mother for her vision. Now we are armed with knowledge.”

“What will you have us do, König?” the jarl asked.

“For now, Jarl Halvar, I will muster Keldheim’s forces. We will rescue our kin and determine the true scale of the rot in our once fair city.” He glared at them all balefully. “Then I will muster every dwarf in Valtivar, and we will retake Afnirheim. The goblin scum will pay for their sins, and we will defeat them once and for all. Thepascha’sdomain will be no more inourmountains.”

Harper took a step back at the vehement hate and determination in Korrin’s voice.

“When will you have us ready, König?” Halvar asked, his own visage grim.

“At once. Call every dwarf to arms. Those we do not take will defend Keldheim in our absence. We leave three days hence, by the tunnels and our own thirl doors. We stay away from the roads. None but our own kin will know of our passing. The goblin scum will not know until our blades fall on their necks. I will lead us to victory.” Korrin gripped the head of the ceremonial axe belted to his waist until his knuckles whitened.

“We could not have asked for a better outcome.” Brand heaved a sigh of relief.

Aedon bounced on the balls of his feet with impatience as they made their way back to their quarters. “I wish we could leave now.”

Erika nodded in agreement, her mouth set in a grim line, but she did not speak. Harper felt nauseated by both prospects: staying, or going.

“These things take time. Three days is quick for an entire city to arm,” Brand mused.

“Not quick enough,” grumbled Aedon. “Will you share your vision with us, Harper?”

“W–What?” Harper stammered as he disrupted her thoughts, which had once more strayed to her vision of Ilrune.

Aedon frowned at her. “Are you all right? You seem quiet.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, willing the heat from her cheeks, unsuccessfully.

Aedon’s frown deepened. “Will you show me your vision of Ragnar?” he asked again.

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