He scowled at the doorway, not liking what had just happened, and wondered if the others had felt it, although he hadn’t noticed either one struggling to get through. They’d simply waltzed into the grand entry as if they owned the place.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he picked up his pace and caught up to the women. With a quick glance around the room, he noted the lack of decor on the walls. The only item remotely interesting in the space was a huge medieval candelabra hanging from the dark-beamed ceiling. Evidently, the Huldra queen preferred minimalistic gothic design. Personally, he felt as if he was standing in a cave. Biting back a smile, he realized where he stood—inside a mountain. Technically, he was in a cave.
“Not my style of decor,” Aleksandra whispered.
Freyja’s gaze touched on the far wall, then rose to study the large overhead light. “The candelabra is nice.”
Aleksandra snickered, and he heard a throat being cleared. A tall, elegant woman walked toward them, her forest-green velvet skirt swishing across the floor as she crossed the Great Room. The heavy wooden door behind her closed without a sound.
“Isabel,” Freyja said, moving toward her. Resting her hands on the queen’s bare shoulders, she greeted the red-haired woman with a kiss on each cheek. The woman returned her greeting with a tight smile, but he couldn’t decide if it was because of the situation or because of Freyja.
“Freyja, thank you for coming so quickly.”
Bernard studied her closer, recognizing her as Alva’s mother. The resemblance, like her younger sister, Ingrid, was uncanny. The only real difference was the hair and eye color. This woman’s hair was a vibrant shade of red, whereas Alva’s was blond, almost white, showing red highlights only when she was angered. He also preferred Alva’s sea-green eyes compared to Queen Isabel’s darker-green ones. When Alva’s gaze touched his, he always felt lighter, happier. The moment this woman’s gaze moved over him, he felt somber and almost frightened, which was an unusual reaction for him. He wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.
“Why did you bring others?” the queen asked, her tone sharp and commanding.
“Retract your claws, Isabel. These are two of my soldiers. They are battle seasoned, and I trust them with my life. From your tone, Alva is still missing?”
The queen’s full lips pressed together, but she nodded, then let out a long sigh. “Yes. I have looked everywhere, to no avail. Not even my best trackers have found evidence of where she is being held.” She faced them, and Aleksandra stepped closer to his side. She pulled her dark gaze back to Freyja. “You are sure they are trustworthy?”
“With my life, Isabel. With my life, and you know I don’t say that lightly.”
Isabel reached out and grasped Freyja’s hands between hers, then just as quickly released them and began pacing back and forth. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Freyja. I should have asked for your help decades ago.” The elegant queen jerked to a stop and covered her face with her hands as she shook her head.
A slight frown appeared on Freyja’s face. “It can’t be that bad. Unless Loki is involved, everything is fixable.” The queen let out a tiny sob and Freyja’s frown deepened. “Isabel?”
“Did you ever meet Anders?”
“Your husband? Yes, I did. A couple of months after your marriage. Why?”
Isabel’s face paled. Pressing her clasped hands against her flat stomach, the knuckles blanched. She turned and walked to a line of windows. Bernard wondered what she saw as she stared through the wavy panes. Was she looking into more underground rooms or was the Great Room large enough to meet the north side of the mountain?
With a wave of her hand, Freyja conjured a dusty-rose-colored love seat. Two matching pale-green, high-back chairs appeared in front of it and a short copper-topped oval table, the ornately rolled design of the hand-forged black iron base exquisite.
With a quick wave of her hand, she motioned for the two of them to take a seat as she made herself comfortable on the love seat. “Isabel, come and sit. I will not press you about things you aren’t willing to discuss, but if it’s pertinent to finding and freeing your daughter, then I’m afraid we will need to talk about it. Alva is very dear to me.” Freyja’s gaze met Bernard’s. “And to a few others in my army.”
“I’ve heard very little about your army. Why was it formed?” Isabel asked, still facing the window.
“Óðinnused the war on Midgard to fuel his powers. I came up with the idea to form a resistance army, cloak-and-dagger spy stuff, if you will, and it worked. I convinced four very talented and exceedingly brave Russian Night Witches to join, and they found equally courageous partners who helped them in their individual quests. We were able to stop the Nazis from conquering the world, thus, releasing Óðinn from his power thrall.”
The queen turned, her narrow eyebrows arching high on her forehead as she took in the furniture. “These are beautiful. I could never find the right colors for such a drab room, so I gave up. May I keep these?” She ran her hand along the back of the love seat.
“Of course.”
Isabel sat and folded her hands in her lap, her gold-painted nails glistening with every movement. Bernard frowned, wondering how he’d missed her fingernails. He had always prided his ability to notice even the tiniest details. If he’d made such a gaff during the war, it could have resulted in a disaster.
“Freyja, I have been a horrible person, especially to you. For that, my friend, I am deeply sorry. I have no excuse.”
“Oh, Isabel. Ruling a people through difficult times isn’t easy. I wish you would have contacted me sooner. I would have helped you,” Freyja said. Leaning forward, it was her turn to hold her friend’s hands. “Now, tell me what happened.”
The queen let out a slow breath. “I was so stupid. I gave up being who I am for love. Or what I thought was love. I believed Anders loved me. At first, he stayed in my rooms, telling me he preferred to be with me and not worry about the kingdom—that was my job. As you know, the Council keeps me busy most of the day, and what few hours remain are dedicated to hearing concerns from my people.” She raised her stricken gaze to Freyja’s. “I never noticed he left during the day.” Her voice faded away as she stared at their joined hands.
“Isabel?”
“Almost a week ago, I was supposed to have a late meeting with my niece Maya and a few other disgruntled women. They don’t believe I have taken care of my people as I should have—something about the older Huldra being gluttons and not sharing the life energy collected over the centuries. When she didn’t show up, I retired to my quarters. Anders wasn’t there. When he returned, he lied, telling me he was out walking.”
Her brows rose and her eyes glittered in anger. “Walking! Does he think I’m an idiot? He tried to calm me down, but I smelled several strange scents on his clothing, the most worrisome of which was an electrically or magically charged odor. The closest I can describe it as being a frozen fire. The acrid smell, like burning dirt, hit my nostrils first, then overlaying that was the clean scent of ice.” Her shoulders slumped as she hung her head.