horses twenty yards from us. As the dust settled, I saw that he was shirtless, dressed only in a pair of calfskin trousers. Blue tattoos snaked over his warrior’s physique, and his eyes were the color of the deep forest.
He ignored me entirely, his green eyes focused solely on Ali.
Already, I hated him.
And I had no idea what he was. His ears were pointed—an elf of some sort, but I’d never seen one that looked quite like him.
“Who are you?” asked Ali, breaking the silence.
The man smiled, revealing a row of white teeth. “Are you travelers?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“Yes.”
The man gestured to the plain. “These are the plains of Vanaheim.”
I cursed in my mind. Vanaheim—it made perfect sense now. Home of the Vanir. A growl rose in my throat, and the horses trembled.
The stranger looked at me, and I saw his expression tighten as he recognized what I was. “We don’t have your kind in our lands very often.”
“We arrived by accident,” Ali said. “If you can tell us how to return to Yggdrasill, we will be on our way.”
The man shook his head. “That, I cannot do. All visitors are required to present themselves to the Emperor. You will follow me.”
Chapter 26
Ali
I walked next to the stranger’s chariot as if in a dream. The air hummed with the buzz of insects, the distant calls of birds, and the scent of wildflowers. We’d lost our way on our journey, but I still felt like I was in paradise, bathing in heavenly sensations I’d never experienced.
I’d been born underground, raised in damp caves and caverns. Sure, I’d spent time above ground. With my vergr stone, I’d been able to cross Galin’s wall to visit the world of men. But Midgard was frozen and nearly lifeless. Nothing had prepared me for the feeling of a warm sun on my skin, the wind in my hair, or the gentle brush of grass against my legs.
So this was what summer felt like.
And this was what my people had lost. Now I understood the pain of the Shadow Lords, those who’d been born before Ragnarok. They remembered life outside the caverns. They remembered the sound of bees, the sensation of wind, the warmth of the sun.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been born a Night Elf. I was made for the sun. And now, with the golden ring, maybe I had what I needed to free my people.
I ran my hand through the grass. This was something worth fighting for, and I would do anything so the Dokkalfar could see the light again. Even if it was just the winter light of Midgard.
The shirtless newcomer led Marroc and me over the plain and into a long, sloping valley. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face, and when I looked over at Marroc, I saw that delight danced in his eyes. How old was he, anyway? Liches didn’t die.
“Have you felt this before?” I asked. “Did you ever know summer?”
As his smile faded, sadness flickered in his eyes. So, he was over a thousand years old. What had happened to him? Maybe he’d just wanted immortality and had given up his soul to live forever.
As we walked, I felt my cheeks flush, and a trickle of sweat ran down my neck. I pulled my coat off, tucking it under my arm, and took in the scene around us. Horses roamed in the fields. White, gray, roan, and bay, there were hundreds of them grazing on the golden hillsides. They watched us with curious eyes, and our guide rolled on in his chariot to our right.
I was deliriously happy.
Marroc touched my arm. He was holding a little white square out to me, with two pieces of string attached to what looked like beads.
Confused, I took it from his hand, frowning at it. It looked human, but I didn’t know what it was. What was I supposed to do with this?
Then he popped one bead in each of my ears.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He leaned over me and pushed a button on the little square. A single word flitted across the screen.
Beyoncé.
And with it, music began to play. My grin widened at the sound of the music—the most glorious sound I’d ever heard filled my ears.
Beyoncé, whomever she might have been, was a genius. A goddess of music.
Here, I had sunlight, I had music, and almost nothing could be more perfect.
Marroc was watching me listen to the music, mischief twinkling in his eyes as I smiled