Now you tell me...His small body stiffened and then relaxed, his head lolling backward.
“Madoc! Don’t you dare die on me...” Using two knuckles, he pressed against Madoc’s chest then tried to breathe into his mouth, but his wolf’s muzzle was too big. In frustration, his deep-throated growl turned into a mournful howl. For the first time in his long life, he had no clue what to do.
“Lay him on the ground!” Cattarix demanded as the panther circled around him, closely followed by Raróg and Delara.
Émilien laid Madoc on the ground in front of the cat king. “Do what you can, please. He didn’t deserve to die like this.”
Delara stepped closer and laid her tiny hand on Émilien’s knee. “Madoc is our friend too. I won’t let him die—it isn’t yet his time.”
Émilien watched as the small, red-feathered chick hopped next to Madoc. Thin, human-like arms appeared from under her wings, and she laid her four-fingered hands on the coblynau’s chest, over his heart where the ribbons that had once made up his vest-covered shirt and jacket had been shredded.
Delara closed her eyes and whispered something unintelligible until a light began to glow under her hands. The light brightened, turning from yellow to blood red. Madoc coughed, then coughed again, his body jerking upright as his eyes sprung open, almost twice their normal size, and clasped his long, thin fingers around his neck as he continued to choke and cough.
“Delara, how can you do this?” Émilien asked. “I’ve never known a phoenix with the ability to bring anyone other than themselves back to life.”
Folding her arms back under her wings, a shiver jerked her body as she shrugged and stepped back. Immediately, Raróg wrapped his arms around her, the soft glow of heat moving from his stocky body to hers. Sometimes it was good to have a fire demon around.
She twisted her head around and gave the fire demon a sweet smile. “Thank you, Ostrik.” She then turned her large opal gaze up to Émilien’s. “I have discovered a few hidden talents. Please don’t tell Mama. She won’t understand or like it. I am the first girl born to her in more than three thousand years, and she believes me to be perfect. If she knew I wasn’t...”
Émilien smiled down at her. “Little phoenix, you are indeed a treasure, and your mother should be proud of the power you have been gifted.” He held up his paw as she opened her mouth, more than likely to protest from the scowl she gave him. “I give you my word, she will never learn about this from me. However, you know she will. She isthePhoenix, Delara.”
She exhaled. “I know, but not now.”
He gave her a small nod then turned to Madoc, whose muddy brown gaze was focused on Delara. “I owe you everything, my lady. Thank you.”
Delara smiled. “You are my friend, and I could not let you die. There is too much left in this world for you to do.” She glanced up at Émilien. “As do you, guardian. Your test is coming.”
Hel’s castle, Eljudnir
Helheimr
Hel stood in front of the tall picture window in her throne room, overlooking a large portion of her death realm. Off to the right in a far southern valley bordering the River Sliðr, innumerable weapons clanged as they tumbled in its turbulent depths.
Nearby was the Well of Hvergelmir, the source of all rivers throughout the Nine Worlds. On one side were soldiers, locked in their perpetual battles. Nothing she did or said had ever stopped them from completing their never-ending homicidal agenda. At least that was how she looked at it. War never made sense to her. Probably because of who her father was and his modus operandi.
Loki was always manipulating, tricking, or outright threatening people to get what he wanted, which was usually nothing good. She had made so many mistakes growing up. Her biggest mistake, and the one she couldn’t let go of, was trusting him. He was supposed to be her father—the man who should have taken care of her, protected her, and most of all, loved her.
But, he hadn’t. Not any of it. Loki was only out for himself and used everyone around him to reach his ridiculous goals.
The day he had tricked both her and Fenrir, separately trying to convince them that her brother was going to kill her and she, her brother, had been the last straw. It had been Loki’s intent to begin Ragnarök early. She knew her brother would never hurt her, much less kill her, and she would never do that to him.
Fenrir had not deserved the gods’ wrath when he was little more than a pup, and to be chained until the beginning of the end of the world wasn’t right. Of course, that was the reason she had helped set him free. No one should be imprisoned simply for looking ferocious and not putting up with people’s bullying, especially that of the gods.
Turning her gaze to the left, she frowned. Normally, the dead went about their daily lives in the vast expanse of land leading further north toward Ginnungagap, the primordial void from where everything sprung. Even though it was mid-morning, very few people were up and about or, at least, outside their homes, which was strange. They should be bustling up and down the main road, shopping and visiting friends or family. Their lives here were basically a continuation of how they lived before death claimed them.
Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it could be. The normal icy sensation skittering over her skin and the cold breeze that moved the mists were off. Staring off to the north, she barely made out the icy waves tumbling out of the fountainheads of the Well of Hvergelmir. Her gaze traced the beautiful ice sculptures, like frozen waterfalls. Farther away from the well, the fire and heat from Muspelheimr melted the ice, and the waters split into winding rivers that spread throughout the Nine Worlds.
With the help of the magic infused in her castle, it turned on a massive dais, giving her a 360-degree vantage point to rule over her expansive world. Not that it did any good right now. She reached out to her brother.Fenrir, where are you? Can you feel it?
I’m in my cavern, sister, but even here I sense the wrongness. As if someone, a god, has breached the boundaries of Helheimr.
That can’t be possible. No god is allowed, nor can they leave unless I say, and I have given no one permission.
Could it be Loki? Our father has a knack for getting around things like that.
The guardian would never let him in, no matter where Loki tried to breach the perimeter. Garmr abhors Loki and remembers the torture he received from him as a pup.She shook her head, her gaze landing on the giant black wolf curled up asleep at the mouth of his cave.Garmr would tear our father to pieces.
And I would help him.