Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (36 page)

Suddenly Loke uttered a loud curse.

“What?” Arvid asked, but when she looked up, she already saw what had caused Loke’s reaction.

“A god, a rider,” Loke said. “Run!”

They ran straight for the cave entrance, but Arvid knew she wouldn’t last long. The rider was already frighteningly close. It came from somewhere to the left, where some rocky hills could be seen. Apparently the gods had in fact had split up. This one was dressed in off-white fabric and, together with his white Hjorter, almost blended in with the snowy environment. After a short time it was clear that they would reach the cave almost simultaneously.

“Loke!” the man shouted from afar.

Loke slowed his footsteps, breathing heavily. Arvid did the same and watched fearfully as the rider, a sturdy man with a blond beard, approached them.

“Stay behind me,” Loke said to Arvid. His voice was steady but clearly tense. “He may want to kill you.”

Arvid’s heartbeat quickened again when she heard that. She quickly stepped behind Loke, who almost leisurely walked toward the other god. He had stopped a few meters away and jumped out of the saddle. Arvid and Loke were only thirty or forty steps from the cave entrance, yet they had no chance to reach it safely, because the god in front of them now grabbed a bow and drew it in one fluid motion.

“Ildir,” Loke called out, “what a surprise.”

“Step aside, Loke,” Ildir said threateningly. “You know what I want.”

“Why, yes. Which should make it clear that I won’t step aside.”

“Don’t make this worse. Odin wants the woman; it’s of utmost importance!”

Loke made a contemptuous sound. “I don’t give a damn about what Odin wants. Arvid is innocent. So put down the bow and let us pass, or I’ll be forced to hurt you.”

A dangerous silence fell. Only the whistling wind could be heard. It was clear that Ildir struggled with himself. Arvid’s heart was beating almost to bursting. She could only hope for his insight. Even if she believed Loke to be superior, the idea of a direct confrontation filled her with paralyzing fear.

Finally Ildir lowered the bow and threw it beside him in the snow. Arvid’s feeling of relief, however, lasted for only a second. Then everything around her was devoured by roaring flames. A burning heat whipped her face and made her cry out in horror. Then she felt herself forcefully gripped and everything around her went pitch black.

It took only a second, but it seemed to Arvid like an eternity, before she realized that it didn’t just get dark. She was completely wrapped in something black, leathery, which protected her from the scorching heat. Finally, she realized that they were gigantic wings.

She winced in shock when the huge wings suddenly released her again. She realized dimly how the black, scaly creature in front of her struck with its mighty wings and swept Ildir several meters backward through the snow, where he lay gasping out loud.

“Run!” Loke shouted at her in a strange, rumbling voice.

Arvid picked herself up in panic and ran toward the cave. Behind her, she heard heavy, crunching steps and Ildir’s furious roar, then she was suddenly and violently catapulted through the air, driving the air from her lungs.

She fell softly. For a moment she saw nothing but dense, white fur, and everything around her seemed to turn. Arvid felt snow beneath her, then she watched dizzily as a huge, white wolf turned back into Loke’s human form, stepping up to the onrushing Ildir. There was a bright flash of light, then the bearded god was once again thrown into the snow with a loud cry and rolled on a few steps.

Loke whirled around to Arvid, grabbed her and dragged her with him, heading for the cave entrance, which was now directly in front of them. This time they were not stopped, even though Arvid stumbled more than she ran. She felt nausea spreading in her stomach. Hastily they penetrated deeper into a huge cave, dodged rocks and holes, and soon came to a kind of dome, from which half a dozen pitch-black passages branched off.

Without even hesitating Loke chose the second from the right. They reached another turn, followed a steep transition, came into another dome-shaped room and ran into the middle of three passages, which led farther down into the depths. Arvid was so focused on her steps, she noticed only after a while that Loke was no longer at her side.

When she stopped and turned around, she saw that he had fallen down on his knees a few steps behind her, panting heavily and leaning on his arms.

“Loke!” she cried anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

She ran over to him, but Loke fought her hand off vigorously. “I’m fine,” he said with difficulty, “I just need a moment…”

“Did you overstrain yourself?”

Loke shook his head and pushed himself up, moaning. “Too many… changes in temperature,” he said.

No sooner had he spoken, there was a strange grinding noise that seemed to come from all around them. Shortly after it began to crack and rumble. The entire cave trembled and shook.

“My god!” Arvid cried out. “Is this..?”

“An earthquake,” said Loke and grabbed her wrist. “Go! We have to get to the cave over there!”

They ran on, under a curtain of trickling sand, down the corridor. Something hit Arvid painfully on the shoulder, dust penetrated her nose and made her cough violently, but she ran on undeterred. When they reached the passage and moved farther into the cave, a deafening roar and thundering sounded. Arvid started when two head-sized stones crashed to the ground not far from them. Then it suddenly became quiet.

Arvid slowed her steps and looked around. In front of them appeared a huge sink, broken only by a few boulders and towering structures that resembled termite mounds. In between grew softly glowing mushrooms, some almost as big as Arvid herself. The ceiling was far above them, lit by a greenish, dimly glowing fog.

They went on for a little bit and then stopped. Here and there they could still hear single stones falling in the distance, hitting the ground with a thud, but otherwise it was suddenly perfectly quiet. As Arvid turned around, she realized with horror that the passage through which they had come had completely collapsed. There was nothing except a pile of rubble and boulders and a swirling cloud of dust in the air.

With trembling legs Arvid sat down on the ground. “How do we get out of here?” she asked, still panting.

“There are dozens of other entrances and exits,” Loke said, letting his glance wander through the cave. “But I’m afraid that the next one’s not exactly around the corner.”

“I just… need a break now, Loke,” groaned Arvid. “Are we safe here?”

“From the gods, yes,” Loke said. He did not look relieved at all, and a little later, Arvid learned why.

Loke had insisted that she get up again to go to a sheltered spot. Here, on the edge of some rocks, he told her that the situation was little cause for optimism.

“The nearest access to the underground is almost a day’s journey away,” he explained. “If we hurry, we might be able to reach it and to tackle the way back to the source, but… it’s risky—too risky. We don’t know what to expect on the way. Creating the transition is extremely debilitating. The gods hunting you won’t give up that easily.”

Arvid stared at him in shock. “You mean…”

“That we won’t make it,” said Loke. He grabbed a rock and threw it off into the darkness in front of him with an angry jerk. “We’ll have to wait until next summer. Hel was right—you were not ready.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Arvid asked, stunned. Tears filled her eyes. After all that had happened the idea of just giving up was hardly bearable. She had clung to this bright spot, had had this one goal in mind. She had been hoping to finally see her home again, and now everything had been swept off to an unreachable future.

“What was I supposed to do differently… better, Loke?” she asked in a trembling voice, but he just looked at her, silent and expressionless. Arvid was filled with an overwhelming hopelessness. Although she tried to fight it with all her might, small, hot tears started to trickle down her face. She looked at Loke and wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms, to be held by him, but she didn’t dare. She wished he would comfort her, tell her that everything would be all right, that there was still hope, but he just sat there and watched her cry.

“Nothing,” he finally said and got up. “I’ll be right back.” With that he turned around and left her alone.

Arvid had not known that the silence and inaction of someone could hurt so much. She let herself fall limply against the hard rock and surrendered herself to the pain that seemed to fill her at this moment. It seemed as if her tears slowly flushed out the past days’ pent-up fear and tension. Tiredness and fatigue overcame her like a leaden blanket. Although it was hard and uncomfortable on the stony ground, it wasn’t quite as cold as on the surface, and so she soon fell asleep.

A searing pain ripped Arvid from her sleep so violently that she shot up with a loud cry. Something heavy clung to her hip. Arvid stared, horrified, at a slimy, wriggling creature, disoriented and unsure if it was dream or reality. In a fit of panic, she grabbed the worm, but it cost her all her strength to tear it off her body and throw it away. In disbelief and with wildly beating heart she stared at the creature that now writhed on the floor a few steps in front of her.

It looked like a kind of thick worm and was a white, slightly translucent color. At its head it had two plump, pale red bags, perhaps something like eyes. Directly below them sat a round, vibrant mouth with a scary-looking stinger. The worm was at least one meter long and gleamed wetly in the dim light of the cave.

“Arvid!” a voice suddenly rang out, then she heard hastily approaching steps. She lifted her head as if in a trance. Loke’s face showed sudden horror when he saw the worm, but he hesitated only a moment. He pulled a dagger and cut its head in half in a single violent blow. Then he threw the weapon aside and knelt down in front of Arvid.

“Did it sting you?” he asked urgently.

Arvid was still so blindsided that she could only nod weakly. Involuntarily her hand wandered to her waist, where a burning pain throbbed.

“Damn!” Loke gasped and started to open her coat.

“What kind of… animal is this?” Arvid asked slowly. Her tongue felt as if it were a soaked sponge, and her head seemed so heavy, her neck could scarcely carry it.

“We call them deep-dwellers,” Loke said. “This one was just a young one; they get larger than the Rocks of the demons and have an extremely potent, paralyzing poison.”

Arvid tried to nod, but she didn’t even succeed at that. Her entire body was like a single lump of lead and her eyes could no longer focus properly. She tried to concentrate on the blurry picture of Loke, who in jittery movements freed her from the thick layer of clothing that covered her belly.

“Try to stay calm,” she heard his voice as a distorted noise. She thought she heard something about a city, but then everything around her dissolved into a sea of dancing patterns, swirling shapes and colors that were gradually swallowed up by darkness.

The Month of Refreshing Freedom

“I think she wakes up,” said a muffled female voice.

The words came to Arvid’s ears as the suffocating blackness slowly began to lift from her senses. Her sight was covered by blurred, colored mist that repeatedly melted, mingled and formed strange patterns.

“No,” she heard a man say. “She can’t see us. See? No reaction.”

The pattern before Arvid’s eyes took on darker colors. Somehow she thought to recognize fleeting, vague outlines, but they disappeared again in swirling clouds of blue and green.

“My lady?”

“Let it be, she doesn’t hear you,” the man said impatiently.

There was silence. For a while it seemed to Arvid as if she were floating in a vast bubble of soft nothingness, surrounded by rolling fog and dancing shadows. She heard a light noise. At first it sounded like a soft knock on glass, but then it changed, and Arvid realized that it was the sound of dripping water.

She blinked. She had the strange feeling of realizing that she had a body that pulled her down onto a soft surface. Carefully, she moved a little. She felt the weight of a blanket and noticed that she was looking at a stone ceiling, which was covered with a pattern of light reflected on water.

With difficulty she straightened up, but she managed to catch only a glimpse of her surroundings.

“Oh, my lady!” cried a frightened female voice. A woman in a brown coat came running, bent over her and looked at her anxiously. Her face was still very young. She had brown eyes and long brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail.

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

Arvid nodded lazily. Her neck was stiff and aching; her limbs felt heavy and numb. Her mouth was dry and sticky, and she felt an almost unbearable thirst.

“Water, please,” she said hoarsely.

“At once, my lady.” The woman straightened up, but at this moment another figure stepped beside her and handed Arvid a silver cup. It was a man with blond, shoulder-length hair, who also wore a brown coat and looked much older.

Arvid emptied the cup in greedy gulps, and the man immediately refilled it with water from a large silver jug. This time Arvid took more time and looked around cautiously.

She was lying in the corner of a huge bed, which was covered with dense fur and colorful, woven blankets. Far above them stretched a semicircular stone ceiling, on which from somewhere the reflection of water fell. A murmur as from a fountain could be heard; the air was filled with the scent of fresh moss. It was obvious that she was in a cave.

“Where am I?” Arvid said finally, while the man took her cup again. “And who are you?”

“You’re in Sölunnir, my lady,” replied the woman, “the underground fortress of Isvirndjellen. My name is Desrei, and this,” she pointed at the young man next to her, “is Mardun. We are your servants, my lady.”

“My servants?” said Arvid. “I have no servants.”

“You have two, my lady,” said Mardun and bowed his head.

Arvid looked at them skeptically, but decided to pursue the matter. Her mouth still felt dry and speaking was difficult.

“The underground fortress of Isvirndjellen, you say?” she asked after a while. “Is that… some kind of a castle?”

Desrei exchanged a quick glance with Mardun, then nodded. “Yes, my lady. It’s the seat of His Majesty King Farbaute, ruler of Isvirndjellen. Unfortunately, however, he is not here. He only returns in a few weeks.”

In Arvid’s head everything began to turn. She was in a king’s castle? And why Isvirndjellen? Had they not just been somewhere in the Ice Wastes? She remembered the worm which had attacked her, and her hand involuntarily wandered to the spot on her hip where she had been stung.

“How long have I been here?” said Arvid, running her tongue over her cracked lips. “And… forgive all the questions, but where is Isvirndjellen? I feel terribly confused.”

Desrei smiled. “Today is the third day since your arrival. I understand that you are confused, my lady. The poison… well, it has a very strong effect. It takes time to recover from it.”

Mardun jabbed Desrei in the side, and she looked up, confused. When she did not seem to understand, he sighed and said, “Isvirndjellen is one of four countries of Jökutnjamargr, my lady. It’s the largest, southernmost of the four.”

“So I’m still in the Ice Wastes,” said Arvid firmly. “I didn’t know humans live here.”

“You don’t seem to know much about this place,” said Desrei, earning another nudge from Mardun. “Forgive me, my lady,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s all right,” Arvid interrupted soothingly. “You’re right, I know next to nothing about the area. I didn’t even know that the Ice Wastes are divided into several countries.” She lifted the blanket and looked down at herself. She was wearing underwear made of a fine, white fabric, and her bare shoulders already began to tingle in the prevailing cold of the room.

“Are you strong enough to get up and eat, my lady?” asked Mardun.

Arvid nodded. Her body was heavy, as after a very long night’s sleep, but otherwise she felt good and was also hungry.

“Very well, my lady,” said Mardun. “I’ll get you something to eat and tell His Highness that you are awake.”

When he had gone, Desrei came closer and helped Arvid to pull the huge blanket aside so she could sit up. Then the servant hurried over to a small wooden bench, where various garments had been made ready.

“Who does he mean by His Highness?” asked Arvid. She grimaced when her bare feet touched the stone floor. It was freezing.

“Prince Byleist, my lady,” said Desrei while she helped her into a white robe from lightly draping but warm fabric. “He is king Farbaute’s son and will become king after him. His Majesty is, as I said, currently traveling.”

“Are they… giants?” Arvid asked uncertainly. “Or humans like you?”

“Oh, of course they are giants, my lady. We are only servants.”

Arvid received warm socks and lined boots made of light gray leather, then a coat that was almost white and had seams decorated with colored embroidery.

Now she finally had time to look around more closely. It was easy to see that this place had been created for giants. The door through which Mardun had left the room almost reached to the ceiling, which in turn was so high that she felt like she was in a hall. The chests and bookshelves were of enormous size. Only an armchair, the table and chairs in a corner appeared to be meant for humans.

She saw colorful fabrics and carpets, embroidered wall hangings and thick skins on the chairs. In the raw stone walls there were niches, like the ones Arvid knew from Loke’s caves in the mountains. Even the semi-circular pool of water in the middle of the room reminded her of Loke’s home. It was beneath a cluster of greenish star lamps, from which water was dripping constantly.

Shortly after, Mardun returned with her food. “I’ve informed His Highness that you are awakened, my lady,” he said. “Unfortunately, he is not available. Council is in session.” He put two bowls down on the table, one with dark bread and one with a strange yellow paste that Arvid could not identify.

“Have a seat, my lady,” he said.

Arvid did as she was told. “Sit down with me,” she said, as the two servants remained standing in the corner. The two seemed unsettled.

“That’s not our place, my lady,” said Mardun.

“It’s my wish,” Arvid said, frowning. “Sit down.”

They hesitated, then they did as she had requested. It was evident that they felt uncomfortable. They watched Arvid with nervous glances.

“What is this?” said Arvid, pointing to the yellow paste.

“It’s called Roltjem, my lady,” replied Desrei. “It’s made from roots and beans and is preferably eaten with bread.”

It tasted strange, but good, and for a while there was silence while Arvid ate. Desrei and Mardun did not seem to dare to say anything.

“How did you get here?” Arvid asked.

“What do you mean, my lady?” asked Desrei, surprised.

“I mean… How long have you been servants here?”

“Always, my lady,” answered Desrei.

“We were born here,” added Mardun.

Arvid looked at him in disbelief. “Really? What about your parents?”

“They are also servants in Sölunnir, my lady. In a different part of the fortress.”

“And all your lords are giants?”

“Almost all, my lady,” answered Mardun.

“Apart from a few dwarves,” Desrei added, “and you, of course.” She smiled. “It’s wonderful to be able to serve a human goddess. You cannot imagine how happy I was when I was picked. Will you tell us of Jördendheim and Asgard? I’d love to learn more about it.”

Mardun again pushed her roughly in the side and Desrei grimaced.

“Forgive her talkativeness, my lady,” said Mardun. “She’ll better herself.”

“I don’t mind,” Arvid said, “I’ll be happy to tell you about Jördendheim… but not today. Can you tell me where I can find Loke? Is he here?”

“He is, my lady,” answered Mardun. “But as I said, council is being held.”

Arvid was disappointed but she had no choice but to wait and be patient.

On this day Arvid saw neither Loke nor one of the giants. The next day the situation was no different. She was being told that none of them was available, but she didn’t really know why. Actually, she was too tired to ask.

Arvid still was far from recovered. She was sleeping a lot or lay in a corner of the oversized bed, flipping through books. In between, she chatted with Desrei and Mardun and learned little by little that Sölunnir was home to several generations of humans, who were, with very few exceptions, servants. Arvid had mixed feelings when she thought about it. They seemed to be treated well and looked happy, but they were not free.

On the third day Arvid was tired of waiting and asked Desrei to show her Sölunnir. As soon as they had left their quarters, it once again became evident that they were in a fortress of giants. Everything was of enormous size. The ceiling of the hall that they walked down was far above them. To their left and right mighty, tall pillars with black and green banners towered. The doors were four or five times as high as Arvid, but all also had handles at human height.

At the end of the passage an open portal led into another transverse corridor, which looked almost like the first one, and from which a larger number of doors led off.

“These are the guest quarters,” said Desrei. “Isvirndjellen maintains good contacts with most dwarf peoples. There are a few dwarven guests at almost all times, often for long periods. They tend to have an exhausting journey.”

They passed through another portal, reaching a long staircase that led down in a slight curve. At its end began another corridor, but on closer inspection Arvid realized that it was a gallery. On its left side there were huge, open windows.

Arvid approached one and looked through it. What she saw took her breath away.

“That… can’t be real,” she murmured in disbelief.

Far below her was a round place that looked like a giant courtyard, surrounded by walls. It was densely overgrown with greenery. Arvid saw no trees, but something that resembled huge bushes, matte-shining mushrooms as high as houses and in the midst the glittering run of a brook. Around them in the distance the brightly lit windows of the fortress glowed. As Arvid looked up, she saw a ceiling full of stalactites, which here and there stuck out from a glowing, bluish haze.

“These are the gardens, my lady,” said Desrei. “Would you like to see them up close?”

“Absolutely,” said Arvid. “Can you walk in them?”

Desrei smiled. “That’s what they are here for, my lady. Some fruit and berries are growing there, but they are mainly a place for the guests. The fields lie west, outside the fortress.”

She led Arvid down more flights of stairs, through a small hall where several brown-clad servants were hanging up tapestries and stared after them with undisguised curiosity. They passed another corridor and finally stepped through a semicircular portal into the gardens.

From here the sight was even more overwhelming than from the gallery, because the bushes and mushrooms suddenly rose up over their heads. Arvid saw that there were no bushes, but plants that reminded her of ferns. The floor was covered with a carpet of moss and small varieties of ferns, fungi and different plants with small, round leaves. There didn’t seem to be any grass.

“It’s wise not to leave the paths, my lady,” said Desrei after Arvid had stood and looked at the green splendor for a while. “One easily gets disoriented under the branches and… well, sometimes deep-dwellers get here.”

“You mean those worms?” said Arvid. “They’re coming down here?”

“Yes, my lady, sometimes. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s better to be cautious.”

They followed the path through the gardens. Arvid was amazed. The staggering amount of plants glowing in the dark, not only fungi but also ferns and stems with small, spherical fruit, was overwhelming.

Finally they reached the brook. Arvid stepped onto the stone bridge and looked down into the water. There were no fish. The water perhaps flowed too fast, so fast that the stream bed seemed to be made from a naked groove of solid rock. The carpet of green ended exactly where the water began.

As they turned to go on, Arvid stopped, startled. Along the path came two giants in green and black striped robes and helmets. Arvid knew that this was a fortress of giants, but since she had not yet met any, the sight came as a shock. Then she saw that the giants only seemed to be escorts. In their middle walked a burly, bearded man with a slouch hat, who was less than half their height.

Desrei bowed low as the three approached. Arvid, however, had to pull herself together in order not to instinctively recoil from the huge figures. She only reached up to their belts. The two guards bowed their heads in a silent greeting, while the bearded man looked at her from dark, curious eyes. He was short for a man, more than a head shorter than Arvid, but significantly wider, which suggested that he was a dwarf.

“Greetings,” Arvid said finally. She was unsure how to behave and who this person was. Her action probably wasn’t completely wrong, because the bearded man stopped before her and returned the greeting, though in Old Jördish.

“And who might you be, pretty lady?” he asked. “Quite obviously you’re not a servant.”

It took Arvid a moment to switch to the other language, but then she forced a smile. “My name is Arvid,” she said. “I come from Jördendheim.”

“A human goddess, my lord,” said one of the giants, also in Old Jördisch. “She is a guest of His Highness Prince Byleist, and arrived with Loke five days ago.”

The bearded man’s face brightened. “A goddess, I understand. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Arvid.” He bowed slightly. “I’m Ogur Son Hoormi. I come from the western part of Fermalenia.”

“It’s… an honor,” Arvid said haltingly, automatically repeating Ogur’s words, as she could not think of any other wording. “Forgive me, I… my Old Jördish is not very good.”

“I think it sounds great,” Ogur said cheerfully. “Come, I’ll show you the best place here in the gardens.”

Arvid wasn’t sure if she’d feel like it, but Ogur had already turned around and went in the direction from which he had just come, and so Arvid followed him. The two guards and Desrei stayed a few steps behind them.

Ogur proved to be very talkative. He told of his homeland and his family and explained that they provided the giants with a special variety of grain.

“We are one of the few countries who almost exclusively trade with the giants. Some countries in the south of the dwarven realm have turned to the humans, because they hope for more profit. But humans are not interested in buying grain. They have their own fields.”