all I could see was glistening stomach lining.
“Marroc?” I called again.
Then I saw him. Lying on his back, his eyes staring blindly. It took a second for me to realize why. He couldn’t see in the darkness. He just didn't have Night Elf vision like I did.
“Marroc,” I said, hurrying to his side. “Are you okay?”
“Ali?” He reached out for me. “I’m sorry. I failed.”
“You need to get up.”
“No. When the shades come, they’ll destroy me. They’ll probably condemn you, too. They know that you’re my—”
“Marroc,” I said, “how do we find the wand?”
He stared at me, eyes wide and unseeing. “What do you mean? We lost. Nidhogg won. The wand wasn’t with her.”
“No, I’m certain it’s close by. And you’re not dead. We’re inside Nidhogg. And we need to get out of here, fast.”
“That explains why I can still feel the wand’s presence.” Marroc paused. “We’re inside Nidhogg?”
“Don’t say I never took you anywhere nice. And do you remember when she said she’d eaten Thor and Loki? They must have brought the wand in with them. That would explain why your spell said the wand was with Nidhogg.”
Finally, I saw hope return to Marroc’s face. “Brilliant. So my spell was correct.”
“Let’s cut down on the gloating and get moving. I can show you where to walk.”
Marroc slowly got to his feet. The way he stood, I could see he was in serious pain.
“Will that get better?” I asked, pointing to the wound in his abdomen.
“It’s taking longer than usual. Maybe it’s because the fang severed my spine…” He paused, obviously frustrated. “You go on ahead; I’ll walk more slowly behind you.”
I shook my head, forgetting that Marroc couldn’t see me. “I’m not leaving you here. We can both go slowly.”
He walked behind me until the stomach walls expanded into a large chamber, then closed off. I stopped, sucking in a short breath.
“What is it?” Marroc asked, sensing my hesitation.
“The stomach stops here.” My breath started coming fast, and panic was about to overtake my mind. I’d grown up in dark spaces, but they had been nothing like this. We were inside the gut of a monster, and I felt like the walls were closing in around me.
Marroc frowned. “I can sense it here, but not its exact location. If I travel to the astral plane, I should be able to sense the wand and home in on it better.”
I could hardly parse his words; the sense of claustrophobia was suffocating. Was there enough air in here? If we couldn’t find the wand, how long would it take to suffocate?
He closed his eyes. For a long moment, he stood perfectly still. And as he did, it was like all the darkness and filth around us faded away, and there was only Marroc. Slowly, I started to feel like I could breathe again, like there was air fresh around me.
With his arms out to the side, his body glowed with a pale light, his hair lifting and whirling around his head. Blue light carved the masculine planes of his face and streamed from his body. The light shifted in hues, like sun rays through a stained-glass window. I’d seen so little beauty in the past few days that I didn’t want it to stop.
I looked down at myself, watching as the light streamed over me and cleaned the filth from my body, from my clothes.
The stomach walls around us transformed, now shimmering with white light. A faint music filled the air—like I’d never heard before, so beautiful it could have been written by the greatest of the gods’ bards, Bragi, when he’d been alive.
The gods were dead, but right now, Marroc seemed a lot like one. I wanted to know what wonders he was seeing in the astral realm. I envied his ability to transport himself to faraway places.
Then his eyes flashed open, and the light faded. The music fell to silence. I regretted the loss of that beauty for a moment. The claustrophobia started to return, my breath quickening, heart rate speeding up.
“It’s close by.” He pointed at one of the walls.
“Skalei.” My dagger appeared, and I turned, slashing downward and carving through Nidhogg’s flesh.
Instantly, the wyrm’s stomach muscles contracted, and we were thrown upside down. Somehow, I managed to hang on to Marroc’s waist. But even as Nidhogg thrashed with pain, I didn’t hesitate. With one hand, I gripped the edge of the wound, and with the other, I hacked at it. With each slice, I carved deeper and