Page 81 of A Curse Carved in Bone
My boots made no noise as I careened through the tunnel, dodging souls, but then my eyes latched onto the broad shoulders of a man ahead. He wore furs and mail, a sword belted at his waist and a shield gripped in his hand, nothing about him like the others that I’d passed.
A warrior.
And judging from the green and black paint on his shield, a Skalander at that.
Putting on a burst of speed, I caught hold of his arm. “Can you hear me?” I demanded, trying to drag him to a stop. “Listen!”
But he kept walking, dragging me onward as though I weighed no more than a feather.
Cursing, I hurried on to the next warrior and then the next, trying to get one of them to see me, but they all kept onward. Lost in a dream. Or in nothingness. I did not know which.
Tears froze on my cheeks, the agony of the cold turning my body sluggish. Though my shield was as light as a feather thanks to Gyda’s magic, it suddenly felt as heavy as an anvil on my back.
I’d gambled, and I’d lost.
Everyone had lost.
Desperate, I flung myself at one last warrior only for Hlin’s light to illuminate a familiar bearded face.
My brother’s face.
He’d been in the battle on the strait.
My own flesh and blood.
And I’d killed him.
Every part of me wanted to fall to my knees and beg his forgiveness, but instead I said, “Geir? Brother, can you hear me?”
He kept walking, stepping on me without care as he carried on down the tunnel.
Fury bubbled up in my veins, Hel’s magic seeming to rise with it, and I screamed, “Geir, look at me!”
My brother stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he blinked, and then his eyes focused on me. “Freya?”
“Yes, it’s me!” Gripping his shoulders, I looked into his familiar amber eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Where are we?” He took in our surroundings, alarm rising on his face. “What is this place?”
“Helheim.”
Alarm turned to horror. “Helheim? Then I’m…we’re…”
“Dead. At least you are. I will be soon as well, if I don’t get out.”
“We were fighting,” he whispered. “I had my sword in my hand. What did I do to earn this fate?”
“Nothing.” My chin trembled. “It’s my fault. I…I sent you here, along with everyone else in Snorri’s fleet. I have Hel’s magic in my veins.”
His gaze hardened. “Why? Why would you condemn your own people to this fate?”
My grip on consciousness was starting to fade, my hands and feet entirely numb. “It is a long story, brother. This is my fault, but I believe I can make things right.”
“By bringing us all back to life?”
“By giving you another chance at Valhalla.” I swayed, my strength starting to fail. “I think I can bring you out of Helheim. All of you. Give you a chance to fight to save Skaland and earn a place with the Allfather. But I need you to help me wake all your warriors from the dreams that hold them.”
Geir’s eyes narrowed as he took in the long column of warriors. Then his hands gripped mine. Hard and cold, yet I felt the connection between us. I’d sent his soul here. Which meant his soul was mine, not hers. As were the souls of every Skalander warrior I’d cursed to this place. “Halt.”
