Page 82 of A Curse Carved in Bone
They kept walking. Holding his hand tightly, I focused inward, drawing on the power in my blood as I murmured Hel’s name, then I shouted, “Halt!”
All around us, the warriors drew to a halt. They blinked as though they had been woken from a dream, confusion swiftly turning to horror.
My elation that I’d woken them was short-lived. Hel had felt the stir of power in her realm, and in the distance, I heard the thud of giant feet.
“We need to go,” I whispered. “Need to get back to the gates.”
“You are all in Helheim,” Geir roared. “If you wish another chance at Valhalla, you will follow me now!”
My knees buckled, but my brother caught me up and started running, my shield slung over his shoulder. He wove through the blank-eyed souls still walking through the tunnel, mist swirling.
My heart was faltering. Each breath was a struggle. This was a place of death, and even with Hel’s blood in my veins, my mortal body could not survive here. “Hurry,” I gasped. “You must hurry, Geir!”
Ahead, the golden gates gleamed through the mist.
But they were closed.
Open,I willed them, my heart leaping as a gap appeared, growing wider.
We were going to makeit.
No sooner did the thought cross my mind did my heart stutter. Then cease beating entirely.
“Geir,” I gasped with my last breath of air, and then my vision began to spiral into gloom as my life slipped through my grasp.
Geir leaped at the opening—
And the next thing I knew, I was sucking in desperate breaths of air next to Garmr’s paws, my heart stuttering back to life in my chest.
I groaned, trying to find the strength to get to my feet. I was alive, but everything ached.
“Freya!”
I lifted my head to find Geir staring at me from beyond the gates, the rest of the Skalanders amassed behind him. “We can’t get through.” He flung my shield toward me, the clatter of metal against stone loud. “The gates are closing!”
And my divine mother was coming.
Staggering upright, I shouted, “I call upon the power of Hel!”
Heat roared through my veins, magic flooding my core. Hel’s steps quickened as she sensed me calling on her power, but I ignored the rising sense of dread and screamed, “I am Freya Born-in-Fire, daughter of Hel and lady of death! Your souls were sent to Helheim with my magic and it is my magic that will set you free! Agree to fight with me against King Harald, child of Loki, who won the battle with trickery not honor. Fight with me for the sake of Skaland, which was brought low by Snorri’s pride. Fight with me for your families, who now stand alone. Fight for me, and I will offer your souls to the Allfather to claim once we are victorious. Fight for a chance at Valhalla!”
There was no hesitation, only a deafening roar of “Born-in-Fire!” and they were flowing through the gates of Helheim in a tide of muscle and steel.
Hel’s scream of wrath at my trickery was vicious and terrible. But she’d given me a drop of her blood and the magic that came with it, and short of killing me, she could not take it back.
“Run!” I screamed at the warriors. Scooping up my shield, I joined their ranks as we flowed across the bridge and down the winding path through darkness. “Climb the roots!”
The Skalanders flung themselves at Yggdrasil’s black roots, many of their faces familiar, all of them dead because of me. But I’d given them another chance at glory, and all of them had takenit.
I leaped as high as I could, catching hold of one of the roots and heaving myself into the tangled web. Textured like wood and yet hard as steel, the roots were unyielding, catching and pulling at my hair and clothes as I climbed, but to pause meant death. Because beneath me, Hel was reaching into the roots.
Screams tore the air as she snatched warriors from their perches, flinging them violently into the river where they disappeared beneath the surface. I had no idea of what would become of them, and no time to question, because my mother’s now-red eyes were fixed on me. “Wicked child,” she screamed. “Hlin has stolen your heart from me!”
“My heart is my own,” I shouted. “As is my fate.”
Her massive hand reached for me, nails like talons. Taking a firm hold of a root, I unhooked my shield and, without a word, drew the power Hlin had given to me. Light burst bright across the silver metal of my shield, and Hel’s corpse-blue flesh struckit.
The impact was like thunder, making Yggdrasil shudder, but Hel fell back. Fell through the roots to land with a deafening crash before the gates to her hall. I lost my grip and would have joined her, but Geir caught my arm. I dangled from his grasp, staring down at Hel, and through the roots, our eyes met, hers full of cold fury. “Nidhogg,” she screamed. “Claim them!”
