Den of Blades and Briars: A dark fairy tale romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 7)

Hot blood splashed shocking red over the icy stones. Rivers of gore streamed down the young fae’s barely whiskered cheeks. Rolf’s body slumped, but he didn’t fall, the heavy iron spike kept him upright. With every splatter, steam rose and hissed over the cold white, melting the frosts back as a warning of what was to come.

Hodag let out a raspy shriek when the ground shuddered, and the trees shivered. Snow fell back, branches inverted, Rolf’s corpse was dragged a pace or two as the wall with the spike shifted, and a stone arch gave way in the side of the peak.

The guards scrambled. In the frenzy, Ari shoved through to my side. He kept glancing about overhead, like he awaited more of those spikes to rain down.

“Shut up and listen,” Ari shouted. Again, a moment where it was obvious by his tone, his firmness, and confidence, why the Norns had placed him atop a throne. Even for a short time.

I had royal blood, but a nervous tongue. I’d prefer to spar with a sword than stand in front of the crowds, leading them. He could do both. It was no wonder the cursed king chose him to be his ambassador.

“This place is no myth. If you wish to stay alive, stay bleeding alert. And by the gods, if you see a symbol on a stone or a tree or the damn snow, do not touch it. Not until we’ve properly thought it through. Even then, our fates are with the Norns now.” Ari faced Astrid. “I believe one of them told me you should take the first step in, My Lady.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Stieg was not as quick, and snorted, then choked until the sound was more like a wet chortle.

Astrid glared at Ari. “Kind of you. But I believe the one who discovered the hidden symbols ought to be the one to lead us.”

Ari laced his fingers with mine, his voice took on a chill. “Then arm me, witch, and keep your distance.”

“What did you call me?”

“Let us make one thing clear,” Ari said with a snarl. “There are only four lives I wish to see leave this mountain, and they are all in chains. If you would like more to leave, then you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

Five. I counted in my head. There were five of us who should be leaving this mountain. I thought of the emotions I’d taken from Ari during the bloodspeak, how there were times he did not care if he should fall in battle.

I shuddered and gripped his hand, like I would fight away the gods should they come to take him from me. Even if he was willing.

Astrid gave in and ordered a guard to hand over the map to Ari.

He carefully poked his head through the archway, looking both ways before returning to his place on our side. “It is a twin path, like a reflection. We will need to follow the route as though looking in a mirror.”

“I’ll take it,” Bo said, reaching for the map.

“No.” Astrid was the one who stopped the tracker. “Fate has chosen our guide. He will finish this journey for us.”

She looked so much like the queen I’d always known, and it was maddening. Was Davorin in there? Was he hiding beneath the surface? Either way, the queen was no small threat, and she’d made her stance clear. Ari would finish the journey, then what would become of us?

We would need to strike first.

Bo took Hodag with him. She was treated like a pet, forced to sniff out any nearby dark glamour or magical properties. Truth be told, if her favorite warrior were not dragged in right behind them, I think Hodag might’ve burrowed through the ice out of pure offense for being treated so lowly.

Ari and I took a place somewhere in the middle. Astrid at the back, acting the proper lady who ought to be protected on all sides. If Davorin was in her heart, he’d become a coward. Of course, it could be a part to play, a ruse to fool everyone around them.

As we walked, Ari called out hurried directions. Everyone held a blade, even Stieg and Frey were granted daggers and narrow axes. To survive meant we would put aside gripes and prejudices. Until the end. Then, we would once more plot how to kill each other.

Light was scarcer on this path than on the outer edges. A strange twilight deepened the colors. Frozen, fiery, autumn leaves were more crimson, spruce shrubs and trees were a richer green, even the snow and ice carried a deep crystal blue beneath the white.

Ari paused between a narrow ravine. He squinted at the map, then pointed to an upcoming split bend in the path. “This is new.”

I didn’t hesitate and held out my hand for his. The ground didn’t roll when the two bands touched, but a strange shadow coated one path, while a gleam of light brightened the other.

Ari blew out a breath, and spoke over his shoulder. “This way, the path that takes us toward the inner peak.”

I tugged on his hand and whispered, “We’re getting close. I feel it. If you do anything foolish that gets you killed, understand, I will kill you a second time.”

Ari’s white grin gleamed in the muted light. “Sweet menace, are you worried for me?”

“Yes, and I am your wife, you shouldn’t call me a menace.”

“Take it back.” He dipped his face close, taking a sweet pause amidst the danger to remind me of all that had changed, all that I now had to hope for. To live for. “I hope you will always be a beautiful menace. Life would be dull otherwise, and I’ve told you before, I’d rather be anything but dull. I swear to you, I will be your aggravating lover as long as you want me.”

I rolled my eyes, but allowed the smile to cut across my face.

We slowed at the bend. A river came into sight. Water black as fresh ink flowed through a forest locked in spring. On either side of the river, lush ferns and lingonberry shrubs sprouted from damp grass, no longer soaked in frosts. The air still held a chill, but the land was damp with fading winter.

Perched on a log in front of a wide rope bridge was a woman carved in stone. Her back was hunched, and locks of thick braids twisted down her spine. The hem of her cloak was chipped from turns of winds, and in her hand was a long horn pipe frozen in her grip.

“What now?” Stieg asked.

Ari tapped his fingers against his thigh. His eyes flicked to the rush of the river, the stone woman, then back to the map.

“The path continues on the other side. I expect we’ll need to cross.”

He folded the map and approached the bridge with caution. My heart pounded in my ribs with such ferocity that they ached. Ari had tried to leave me behind, but out of instinct, or the fear of him spilling into the midnight river, I hooked a finger into his belt and walked with him.

I ignored his stern look. If he wanted a menace, he would get one.

Two paces from the head of the bridge, stone cracked and snapped, billowing clouds of dust into the air. The stone woman unfolded, as if she had merely been sleeping.

Ari and I startled at the same time. His arm swung out on instinct, protecting me, and my body tried to curl around him as a sort of shield. We were doomed to be in a constant dance of leaping in front of the other.

The river woman’s skin was a mottled gray with cracks across her cheeks, indistinguishable from the crevices of age or the fractures in weathered stone. Her hair looked like solid rock yet billowed as if weightless in a breeze.

“Speak your business to cross the river Gjöll.”

Ari swallowed roughly, then dipped his chin in a greeting. “We seek a hidden item.”

“What you seek, you shall find in the Monastery of Poems.” The woman blew out a plume of brown smoke.

Ari gave me a look, then tried again. “May we, um, go to this monastery?”

“Do you seek to find lost things for honor or for greed?”

“Depends on who you ask among us.” Ari glared at Astrid. “We only wish to make wrongs right.”

The stone woman studied Ari for a thousand breaths, it seemed. She puffed her pipe, then tilted her head and stepped aside. “Look nowhere but your forward path, lest you meet a dreary fate.”

Ari took my hand tightly in his and cautiously stepped onto the bridge. “Stieg, Frey,” he said over his shoulder. “Keep your eyes ahead.”

“Hear that Hodag?” Stieg shouted.

“Keeping ’em straight,” the troll returned up the line.

We did not worry ourselves with the others. Doubtless they heard, but their fate was in their own hands.

I focused on the path ahead. My eyes itched. I didn’t blink. The river grew louder, like the current rushed swifter. Melodies rose from the water. Sweet songs. A lyre played. Soft voices beckoned me to take part in a sweet lover’s tale, of which I would laugh, then weep, then laugh again.

I wanted to hear such a tale. More than I’d ever wanted, I desired to know how it ended. What would make me weep, then laugh?

“Saga.” Ari squeezed my hand, drawing me back to the bridge. “Don’t look away from our forward path.”

I clenched my teeth. Ahead. Ari was ahead, our path forward mattered more than a story. My pulse slowed, and the hooks urging me to take part in the tale lessened to a dull prickle in my belly.

“Do you hear him sing?” one of the guards said breathlessly.

“Eyes ahead!” Bo shouted.

Ari quickened his pace. I followed until we practically leapt onto the other bank. He crushed me into his side, his breaths sharp, as he released the bound nerves he’d hidden as we crossed.

We looked back on the bridge. One of the guards had paused, his head slowly turned toward the river, a glass coating over his eyes.

A gasp slid out of my throat when I took note of the creatures in the dark water. Skin like a corpse, blue and gray and fetid. Pockets of rotted flesh revealed yellowed, jagged teeth on the inside of their mouths.

The sound from their mouths was a low hum, not so much a song, but a summons.

“He’s beautiful. Do you hear him sing?”

“Eyes ahead!” Bo shouted. “Cover your damn ears and keep your eyes ahead.”

“Halfdan!” Another guard shouted. “No, don’t—”

The mesmerized guard reached for one of the creatures, a dreamy smile on his face. Too soon, one of the rotting things pounced from the river, unhinged its jaws, and tore into Halfdan’s throat. The guard jolted, then was wrenched over the side of the bridge into the river.

The trouble was, two of his fellow guards tried to stop it all from happening. Their eyes left the path, and the hum overtook them. Three more of the fearsome creatures sank their jagged teeth into their flesh and pulled them over.

“Stieg,” Ari warned.

The warrior stopped inching his chin toward the edge of the rope. No mistake, he had no idea what had unfolded behind him, only our horrified faces in front of him.

I only breathed once Frey, Stieg, and Hodag were safely on the other bank. With Hodag came Bo, a little paler, but still hard and cold.

Rune was more shaken. He’d been behind the three slaughtered guards, and could do nothing but watch it unfold.

Astrid’s crew was down to two Borough guards, Rune, and Bo. A silent understanding passed through the whittled group: we were evenly matched in numbers. I narrowed my eyes at the former queen. She returned it.

Soon, I would watch her bleed. I’d be free of the voice in the shadows. I think Astrid, or the darkness within her, knew it the way she tried to level me with her glare.

“We do not have the means to continue,” Rune muttered. “We should return and gather more forces, and—”

His words were silenced when the stone woman appeared on our side of the river. She moved her empty gaze between the lot of us, smoking her pipe, but she spoke to Ari.

“See through your stated business. There is no leaving until the knowledge you seek is yours to hold.”

“Wonderful,” Frey grumbled. “Would’ve been a grand thing to know before we crossed the death bridge.”

The river guardian ignored him. Her voice altered to a pitch like a gasp and sang a verse:

“Amongst the starlight bring you two hearts, strong and true.

Twice the blood given, brings back what was lost to you.”

The guardian swept one arm, beckoning us forward, then sat atop a dead log, and once more hunched over, pipe in hand, and turned to stone.

Ari pressed a quick kiss to my knuckles, but I could see behind his sly grin, fear lived in his eyes. “It makes our choice simple at least. Die, or continue.”

The task awaiting us weighed on my spine. If my memories were to be believed, I was the one among us who could lift the feather from its resting place. Stay alive, or those I love die. I straightened my back.

I wouldn’t fail. For them, I refused.