I collapsed onto the chair beside Erik, who looked at me with concern, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“Janet,” I said, “my foster mom. I just punched her in the parking lot.”
“What?” Charlotte craned around the wooden booth, trying to look past it and out into the parking lot, “Where is she?”
“Hopefully gone by now. Eira called her and fed her some crap about me being wanted by the government. She hired some thug to kidnap me, but he ran away when I froze him. I don’t think she’ll stick around,” I shot Erik a worried glance, “but now she knows where I am. What if she follows us?”
Erik shrugged, dipping a fry into his ketchup. He didn’t look the least bit concerned, “then she’ll see us disappear suddenly, and think she’s gone crazy. Humans can’t get into Muspellheim or Neflheim. You have to have some jotun blood in you to pass through the barrier.”
“Oh,” my brain was struggling with the idea, “so she’ll smack into the barrier or something?”
Erik snorted, “regrettably, no. She’ll go through it and carry on to whatever road lies ahead in the human world. If she follows us, our cars will simply disappear before her eyes.”
Loki leaned over from the table beside us, “and what do you think will happen if she tries to tell someone?” He mimicked a woman’s voice, high and quavering, “Oh dear, I just saw ten cars and an ice cream truck vanish into thin air. Someone help me!”
I shot him an amused look, “Was that supposed to be Janet?”
“Did it sound like her?”
“Not at all.”
Erik balled up the foil from his hamburger and then stood up, dumping his tray into the trash can. He surveyed the tables, “Ready to move on, guys?”
We were. Most of us had finished, and those who hadn’t just brought the rest of their meals with them. We trouped out of the Wendy’s in a large crowd, making the bell over the door ring like a fire alarm. I was the last through the door, and I glanced back at the cashiers. They both looked incredibly relieved.
Soon enough I found myself crammed back into the VW van, bumping along, enduring Charlotte’s game of eye spy. The game at least gave me an excuse to study the landscape. We were well out of Grande Prairie now, and into the rocky mountains. I had to press my nose against the glass, trying to see all the way up to the snowcapped peaks. We sped past a glacier fed lake that sparkled brilliantly blue in the sunlight, surrounded by dark green trees. I badly wanted to get out so that there was no smudged pane of glass in between me and the view. Maybe we could climb down to the lake and dip our feet in. I imagined how cold and fresh it would be, how pure the water would taste.
Waterfalls rushed down from cracks in the mountains, turning into snow trimmed rivers that ran alongside the road. We passed a caribou once, and the girls yelled excitedly, clamoring and leaning over one another to try to see it better as we drove past. My jaw was hanging open as we passed by it slowly. It was so huge. It stood by the side of the road as if it were waiting to cross, observing us carefully with soft brown eyes. It was almost as tall as the van, and its antlers stretched far above its head, ending in wicked, multiple points. Loki laughed at me,
“You should see your face!”
We passed by several quaint little towns nestled in the mountains. They looked silent and still, sleeping under a blanket of snow, lights glowing in frosted window panes.
As we entered yet another set of mountains Loki grew visibly more excited, “Just up ahead!” He said, “the barrier is just up here, we’re almost there!”
Sure enough I spotted the shimmer in the air above the road, no more than a trick of the light to the average person. As we neared it I still braced myself, even though I knew very well we wouldn’t actually feel anything inside the van. We passed through the shimmer, and the surroundings blurred and then snapped back into focus just as suddenly. I blinked several times, trying to clear away the fuzziness.
The scenery hadn’t changed much, the only difference was that the road we were on now wound up and up, disappearing here and there into the mountains, and nestled between two mountain peaks, presiding over the landscape like a proud ruler, was a huge stone castle. The peaks and turrets stretched up into the clear blue sky and the roof was a deep red color. Yellow light glowed through the long glass windows set in the stone.
“There she is,” Loki said proudly, “it’s good to be home.”
The VW started the steep incline, and the rattling, popping noises increased. The engine sounded strained, like it couldn’t believe we were making it climb like this. My fingers gripped the vinyl. I would probably leave claw marks in the seats if the entire way up was going to be like this. It sounded like the van was going to explode any minute. How on earth was it going to make it all the way up to the castle? Erik was talking to it, coaxing it onwards like baby talking it was going to make it go faster.
I glanced out the back window. We were a ridiculous looking bunch. Ten beat up cars and trucks trying to drive up a long, steep path into the mountains, with an ice cream truck bringing up the rear. This was going to be good.
It took ten nerve-wracking minutes to make the ascension, but finally we were on a more level version of the castle driveway. The castle itself was looming larger and larger as we got closer. I could now make out bright green ivy clinging to the sides. On the left side of the castle was a red gate, fencing in what looked like a garden. I could see green foliage poking over the top.
“You have a garden?” Something about that eased my nerves a little bit. I had no idea why, but there was something alluring about the idea of being able to be near trees and flowers again. The ice palace had been so barren of green growing things, aside from the rose bushes and holly, there hadn’t been any plants at all.
We made it to a large paved area, and Loki instructed Erik to pull around the back. It took about ten minutes to circle the wall around the castle, it was so huge. I craned my neck trying to look up at the walls, trying to peer into some of the arrow slits as we drove past. I understood why the ice jotun had referred to the city as having “black rocks”. The wall around the castle was constructed of thick stones in a dark grey color, nearly black. In the dark it would be indistinguishable.
The VW came to a shuddering halt in the parking lot, taking an empty stall next to a line of shiny black vehicles. I imagined the poor old van was probably ashamed of itself next to the sleek black cars. As soon as the engine stopped I slid the door open and tumbled out, the others jumping out nearly on top of me in their haste to get free. We groaned and stretched as the rest of our convoy pulled in. Doors slammed, people chattered to one another, remarking on the tall dark structure above us, whispering to one another in hushed voices. I looked over the group, noticing wide eyes and nervous, jerky movements. They were obviously really uncomfortable here. And why wouldn’t they be? This was the home of the people they had been taught to fear as their sworn enemy. Granted, it had been taught by a deranged Queen, but when something was hammered into your head enough, it still made an impression, if you wanted it to or not.
Loki moved forward, his strides confident. He waved us to follow him, and we walked toward two huge gates set in the stone wall. This had to be the back entrance, and even that was huge. The doors looked like they were made of heavy oak, and set with wrought iron hinges and locks. In front of the gates, two jotun soldiers stood at attention. It was strange to see jotun with such different characteristics. Where the Frost jotun were fair, with delicate features and lengthy, graceful limbs, the fire jotun were all swarthy power. Both guards had thick, barrel like chests and huge muscular arms. They towered over me by several feet, and although they matched the frost jotun in height, if I had to bet on one in a fight, I would be placing my money on the fire jotun. Their dark eyes wandered over the group. I thought they would be outraged, or at least frown at the site of their enemies, but neither guard moved a muscle. Their faces stayed perfectly neutral. Loki went closer to the one on the right. He was a foot shorter than both guards and quite a bit smaller all around. It made me wonder if maybe Loki was considered quite slender amongst his people, in spite of how well muscled he might be…
The thought brought blood rushing to my cheeks. One of the gaurds stared at me as I came to stand just behind Loki. He was probably wondering why I was bright red. The guard shifted his eyes back to Loki and said in a deep, powerful voice, “Welcome home, young prince. Have you created another mess?”
“Quite the opposite,” Loki’s voice was teasing, as if he and the guard often exchanged verbal blows, “I’ve come back to rescue all your sorry arses. I brought reinforcements. Rebels.” He swept his arm back to encompass us all.
The guard raised one thick black brow, “We’ll see what your father says about that, lad.”
Even as the guards dragged the doors open to let us in my stomach was doing backflips. What would his father say about that? What type of man was Surtr? Hadn’t someone called him “the black one” at one point? Was that just more ridiculous talk from the Queen, or did he have a bad temper or something? What if he demanded that we all be executed? What if he was no better than Eira?
My heart was pounding wildly. I wiped my sweaty hands on my shirt, wishing my body wouldn’t react like this to inner turmoil. No one else was freaking out. I glanced back at Charlotte and the other girls as we entered the gates. They were all looking around them with huge eyes. I looked up.
The castle jutted up into the sky, so tall I nearly fell backwards craning my neck to look up at it. We were passing through a wide courtyard now, our feet shuffling over the stone pathway leading us towards the main building. Ahead of us the pathway branched off around the castle, in the direction of the garden. I caught a glimpse of the red gates as we walked by and wished I could just fast forward everything, past the part where we meet Surtr and all of the intimidating stuff, past all the talk of war. I longed to be walking in that garden right now, basking in the peace and quiet of the green plants, maybe marveling over how beautiful the flowers were, if there were any growing right now.
The huge double doors of the castle swung slowly open, as if someone on the other side knew we were coming. We stood staring down a vast stone hallway lit by flickering torches in brackets along the wall. A somber faced guard stood at attention as we moved by. Our feet made little noise on the thin red carpet as we shuffled forward in a group behind Loki. All the laughing and talking had died away. The flickering light revealed more than one rebel face staring about anxiously, as if they were worried someone would jump out and attack at any moment.
The corridor widened, becoming brighter, splitting off into smaller hallways. Loki took the far right without hesitating. I almost expected meek looking servants to scurry past us, I’d gotten so used to it in the ice palace, but nobody did. The hallways were empty.
Loki grinned at me over his shoulder, “I bet I know where everyone is. Listen…” he cocked his head to the side, cupping one hand around his ear.
At first I didn’t know what on earth he was talking about, but as we rounded another corner I could hear faint music and laughter ahead. As we neared the noise, the smell of roasting meat reached us, and a few of the rebels murmured and nudged one another. My stomach gave a loud opinionated groan, which lucky, no one seemed to hear.
“A feast,” Loki’s eyes shone, “how I missed this place.”
The final curve in the hallway took us up to a set of tall double doors. A great deal of light and noise seemed to be spilling out from the cracks. Loki set his hands on both doors and heaved, and they burst open with twin shrieks of rusted hinges. The sight that greeted us was incredible. This had to be the fire jotun’s great hall. It was even larger than the hall at the frost palace. The ceiling towered hundreds of feet above our heads, hung with wooden circles on chains, set with torches, shedding light on the festive scene below. Tables, little more than planks on legs, lined the middle of the room, pushed together to form benches. The fire jotun sat on whatever they could find, buckets, stools, shaky wooden chairs. One fellow had even pulled a large stump from the huge fireplace at the end of the hall and sat back on it guzzling tankards of ale, most of which he appeared to be dribbling down his tunic.
The hall was completely packed with laughing, shouting fire jotun. The tables were heaped with food, more food than I’d ever seen in my life. I spotted platters of chicken legs, huge garden salads, corn on the cob, racks of lamb, huge vats of stew and baskets of fresh baked rolls that I swear I could smell from here. Even though my stomach was turning with the tension of our situation, my mouth was watering.
There was no throne in the room, no “head table” as there had been at the ice palace. There was only one table set sideways in front of the roaring fire, where I guessed the king must be. Sutru wasn’t hard to spot at all. He was a huge man, with a red, swarthy face and a bulbous nose. He had a thick black beard that brushed the iron chest plate he wore every time he turned his head, and his eyebrows were like shaggy black caterpillars hunkering over his dark eyes. He was not a handsome man by any stretch of the imagination, and I actually glanced over at Loki in disbelief, wondering how on earth he had managed to avoid a beating with the ugly stick. Maybe his mother was a real beauty.
There was a woman beside Sutru, but she looked far too young to be his wife. She had long black hair and brilliant blue eyes, a trait that seemed to be unusual amongst the fire jotun. Her red lips were pursed in amusement as Surtr hollered and banged the table with his tankard. In spite of how huge and scary he looked, at least he appeared to be in high spirits.
When we entered behind Loki a hush descended over the room. The musicians in the corner kept playing, a rollicking fiddle tune, but the chatter died away as Loki walked up the make shift aisle between the tables.
Sutr stopped flailing his ale mug about and set it down on the table with a crack. He put his hands on his hips, glaring as his son approached. I noticed his hands were roughly the size of canned hams, and huge muscles bulged in his arms as he moved. Swallowing hard I followed Loki closely, before any of the rebels had stepped forward, even Erik. I was the one that had got us here following Loki’s suggestion. This was my fault, so if he was going to chop off anyone’s head…I guess it should be mine.
The fire jotun stared at the frost jotun in shock. The weight of hundreds of eyes on me felt a bit like lead was settling over my chest, crushing the air out of me a little at a time. I straightened my shoulders and pushed forward. Could they tell my entire body was shaking? I told myself they couldn’t.
When he spoke, Sutr’s voice was a deep bellow that reverberated off the walls and ceilings of the stone banquet hall, “So, the prodigal son has returned. You better have a damn good apology memorized, boy.”
“I have better,” Loki said smoothly, he swept a hand back at me and the other rebels, “I brought you a princess, and an army.”