Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Those further out begin to panic. They break ranks, no longer concerned with the warriors or what they came here to do. All they want to do now is survive. They turn to flee into the woods.
I refuse to let them. They aren't of this world, and they aren't of the Light. They were made of darkness to do dark deeds. They cannot be allowed to run free in this world. They're a danger to everyone and everything in it.
I spread my arms wide. Ropes of Light shoot out like bolts of lightning. They spread like spiderwebs across the forest floor. Every varulv they touch ignites in a burst of flame, its shadow burning away. I strike again and again, reaching deeper into the forest with every blast of Light.
"Enough, Valkyrie," Dax growls, grasping my shoulders. "Enough!"
"I have to stop them. All of them."
"Nei." He shakes me so hard he rattles my skull. "Stop before you burn yourself out. Stop!"
The fear in his voice slices through me like a blade, cutting deep. I've never heard his voice tremble like that before. I've never heard it shake. But it shakes now, as if he's terrified.
I release the Light pouring through me all at once…which is apparently the wrong thing to do. It flows back into the well so quickly it's like opening the door on an airplane in midair. Everything gets stuck in a vacuum, the air leaving my lungs in a rush.
I stumble as the world goes dark around the edges, my legs threatening to collapse.
Dax curses, scooping me into his arms before I hit the ground. "Rissa, Valkyrie," he whispers, pressing his face to my throat. "Lyseste ljós. Du er min verden."
"You're going to have to teach me your language, Dax. I don't understand you," I mumble, my eyes falling closed.
I don't hear his response. For a long time, I don't hear anything at all.
Chapter Nine
Dax
"How is she?" Damrion asks.
"Sleeping." I don't take my gaze from my Valkyrie as my oldest friend enters the nondescript room, pulling the door closed behind him. Unlike Eitr, our safehouse in the city isn't a place of beauty. It's a converted warehouse overlooking the Sound. The back butts up against a sheer cliff, making an attack from behind impossible. A massive chain-link fence surrounds the rest. No one knows that the pallets of wood scattered around the lower floor are just a front to hide the true purpose of this place. "Malachi told you what happened?"
"Reaper did." He watches her intently. "You should know…she didn't just kill the varulv in the forest. She killed those in the valley too."
"Gods have mercy," I whisper, stunned. I knew she was powerful, but what we're talking about? Not even the Gods wielded that sort of power. She killed hundreds tonight, every varulv her Light touched. It'll take centuries before the Forsaken are able to replenish their numbers. Centuries before the hellhounds are half the threat they've been for millennia.
"We lost a warrior tonight."
"Who?"
"Arundiel."
"Faen." I scowl at the concrete floor of the safehouse. Arundiel was one of our oldest warriors. He was a formidable Fae.
"They sent twelve Forsaken to capture her."
"Twelve Forsaken for a single Valkyrie," I whisper, shaking my head as my gaze drifts back to the woman sleeping in the bed beside me. She's so peaceful and still. At rest, she looks as young and innocent as ever. Her Light is little more than a golden glow around her, a tiny fraction of the true power she wields. I know the true scope of it, though. Even now, I feel it inside her, blazing like one thousand suns. "They have to know what she's capable of."
"Ja," Damrion says. "They do."
"Abigail?" I ask, the one topic we've avoided since Rissa raised the possibility that the Forsaken were sending the girl's visions. It's a troubling possibility, the implications grim. But if there's even a slim chance that Rissa is right and the Forsaken have worked out how to send visions to Abigail, we have to consider that they've also figured out how to siphon off images from her true visions. If they're using her as a bridge to the Fae, as a conduit into our council, Gods only knows what they've seen. Clearly enough to send every varulv they have into the mountains. Enough to send twelve Forsaken after Rissa.
"Possibly," Damrion says, his lips twisted as if the word tastes bitter upon them. "Faen. I don't want to believe it. She's a shining Light."
"Ja, she is. One no one would ever suspect. It makes her the perfect candidate, Damrion. That doesn't make her guilty of anything more than that. She hasn't sold her soul to the dark. They use her without her consent or knowledge. If Rissa is right, it means only that we must be careful going forward. We cannot blindly trust her visions to guide us any longer."