I pushed open the door and entered to find my father and the guard staring at me. An enormous stained-glass window loomed over Gorm, depicting him dressed as the god Freyr with a boar and an enormous sword.
I crossed to his oak table and plucked an apple from his fruit bowl, taking a bite. The apple was perfectly sweet and tangy, and it made my mouth water. I wanted to throw him off guard.
“As it happens,” I began casually, “the rumors of my demise turned out to be wildly exaggerated. It would appear that I’m still standing.”
“Galin,” stammered my father. “I know you’ll understand that I did what I had to do.”
I shrugged. “Sure. Moving swiftly along. Where is it?”
“What?” Gorm looked confused.
“The wand. Levateinn. I’ll be taking it with me.”
“I don’t have it.” I’d expected my father to lie, perhaps tell me that he’d had the wand locked away somewhere outside the Citadel. But that wasn’t why I’d asked him.
He was a dreadful liar, always had been. As he spoke, his eyes told me everything I needed to know. The wand was where he looked first—in the bedside table five feet to his left.
I dropped the apple and lunged.
My father began screaming: “Porgor! Porgor! Porgor! I have a meal for you! A fine meal!”
I ripped open the top drawer. Sitting at the bottom, wrapped in silk and shimmering with silver light, was Levateinn.
I snatched it up and began to raise it. But before I could cast a spell, the floor below me exploded, throwing me across the room.
“Blrooooooahhh!”
Porgor, my father’s troll, had entered the arena.
Chapter 42
Galin
The troll landed in front of me, and the floor shook like an earthquake was ripping the world apart. I stumbled to my knees as the ground swayed. Great chunks of plaster dropped from the ceiling. Porgor bellowed again, the sound loud enough to make my eardrums tremble.
I rushed to my feet, but not fast enough. Porgor grabbed my arms, each of his hands like a steel vice.
From across the room, my father screamed, “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”
Porgor’s grip tightened. His granite fingers began to crush my forearms, but I still had Levateinn. The only problem was the wand wasn’t pointed at him. He was twisting my arm, leaving the wand pointed at the wall, which was no use at all. If I destroyed the wall, the whole ceiling would come down.
My father grinned, enjoying what he perceived as a victory. “I have to give you credit, Galin, you came close. But to beat me, you need to be focused on the real world. You always had your mind on runes and spells. The gods. You were better as a lich than as an elf, because at least you’d forgotten the gods.”
The troll squeezed. I had a plan; I just needed to goad him. “The Norns have decreed that I will rule the High Elves, Gorm. I’ll bury you in the snow.”
Gorm was shaking with rage now. “You don’t deserve a death at my hand. A troll is too good for you. I should feed you to the dogs.”
The troll was pressing harder. I was barely able to speak, “Is that what you said to my mother? Before you had her murdered for choosing a better lover?”
Gorm’s grin disappeared in an instant. “Do not speak of your mother in my presence.”
“Still embarrassed that she found you boring?”
Gorm was nearly screaming with rage now. “Bring him to me!”
Porgor grunted and began to shuffle forward. Beneath his massive feet, the floor shook like the skin of a drum. My father’s eyes bored into me, filled with pure, unadulterated rage. He'd drawn a dagger from his belt.
I flashed him a wry smile. “You can’t imagine how happy it makes me that you are not my real father.”
Under the light of the stained glass, Gorm’s eyes burned with anger.
Porgor took another thumping step directly in front of the towering window. The tip of Levateinn was aimed straight at the glass now.
I shouted, “Kaun!” and a great gout of flame rushed across the room, melting his sacrilegious image.
The breaking glass revealed the snowy landscape outside, eddies of snow blowing wildly. I stared out at the eternal winter. The ruins of the city spread out beneath us, tiny buildings buried in snow, brick homes with icy roofs, the husks of the frozen skyscrapers.
In the distance, the shining ice of the Charles River reflected the last amber rays of the sun. My salvation.