of what I might have done with her. In fact, that horrible thought had me nearly wanting to activate the helm to burn the idea away.
Whoever it was must have convinced a witch—a seidkonur —to change her appearance to look like Ali’s doppelgänger. No, it could have been even easier. She wouldn’t have had to get a seidkonur to help her, because my father could have done it.
Two strokes of Levateinn, Loki’s wand, and he could make Revna look like anything. All he would need was a tiny bit of Ali to build off. And they had that, didn’t they? Revna had cut off Ali’s finger. A little leftover blood on the stones would do it.
Rage simmered. As soon as I defeated this helm, the royals would be dead, and I would rule as king. I traced my fingertips over the rune glowing on my chest.
I crossed to the window, staring absently at Boston’s ruined skyline.
There had to be a way to break the spell that bound the helm to my skull. Every spell had its weakness, its fatal flaw.
Take my wall, for example, the very thing that had first led Ali to despise me. I’d spent months ensuring no elf could cross it, but I hadn’t counted on vergr crystals. Totally inert, the wall was completely permeable to them. All a Night Elf had to do to cross into Midgard was toss one through to the other side and teleport. When I’d first constructed the wall, I hadn’t known vergr crystals existed. The Night Elves had discovered them somewhere in the bowels of the earth only after they’d been imprisoned.
This was the problem with binding magic. There was always some edge-case, the magical equivalent of a security flaw. Like computer hackers long ago, a good sorcerer could find a way to break any spell. The trick was to think outside the box. What angle hadn’t the makers of the Helm of Awe considered?
Magic wouldn’t remove it. It couldn’t be destroyed by physical means, only weakened a bit. This made sense. Any sorcerer worth their salt would have anticipated both of these approaches.
I turned from the window and began to pace the length of my room. There had to be something I wasn’t thinking of, something that the creator of the helm hadn’t considered. A secret weakness, an Achilles heel.
What if …
I stopped short in the center of my room. There was one thing the helm couldn’t prevent me from doing. It couldn’t stop me from separating my soul from my body and ascending to the astral plane.
Quickly, I sat on the flagstone floor and, closing my eyes, allowed my soul to drift free. I hovered just above my corporeal form, looking down at myself. But the helm didn’t hum; no bolt of white-hot magic threatened to fry my frontal lobes. This was to be expected. I wasn’t trying to leave the Citadel or attack a member of my family.
I allowed my soul to drift out the window, then peered in at my body still cross-legged on the stones. The helm remained quiet, completely inert. It couldn’t sense where my soul was located.
The next step was to test the family angle. Darkness descended as I allowed myself to ascend into the astral realm. All around me, the souls of elves flickered like stars.
I whirled, searching. After a few moments, I found the one I was looking for, hovering a few floors above me. I glided up.
Revna’s soul floated in the center of her room. I imagined her future assassination. A quick knife to the heart, so that I might secure the realm. Normally, at that gruesome thought alone, the helm would have sprung to life and zapped me.
I flicked back to check the status of my body. It remained on the floor, the helm completely quiet.
I slipped back inside my body. Even as I opened my eyes, I was thinking about what this meant. The helm was clearly attached only to my corporeal body—my physical form. My soul could do whatever it wanted.
I smiled slowly. Perhaps I could collect my rat, Gormie, from the dungeons, pop his soul into my body, then take over his furry form. I’d have free range of Midgard. I didn’t particularly want to be in the body of a rat, though. It didn’t seem fitting for a prince, and I didn’t think Ali would like it much either.
What other options did I have? I could become a lich again. Killing myself would almost certainly break