Page 11 of Blood Beneath the Snow (Blood & Souls Duology #1)

11

My eyes widened, pulse frozen in my veins. My sword wavered. Something in me had enough space to feel shame at my fear.

The mask was more terrifying up close. I couldn’t see his eyes through the mask, and I didn’t want to. Nothing to humanize a monster.

Especially a monster who might be hunting me. And now he wanted to hurt my brothers.

A rumbling laugh, deep and dark, echoed from beneath the mask. “What exactly do you plan to do with that?” the Hellbringer asked, gesturing toward my blade.

Every second I wasn’t dead was precious time now, a chance for my two brothers to escape. I lunged without thinking, swinging my sword in a way that felt relieving and final. He was unarmed; maybe I could wound him enough for Jac and Frode to have time to run before he could get to them.

My sword hissed through the air. He moved so fast, I didn’t see him until he spoke again. “Are you done yet?” Though his voice had become quiet, it rumbled through my bones. There must be some kind of voice modulator under the helmet, deepening his voice so it was unrecognizable.

I whirled to my left, where he was now positioned, and sliced my blade through the air again. But once more it made no connection. He hadn’t unsheathed the blade at his hip.

“Too cowardly to fight me?” I raised my sword and faced him.

He tilted his head. “Why bother? My Lurae can accomplish the same results in mere moments.”

I scowled. “Kill us, then.”

Before he could respond, Jac dropped from the pine tree, landing steadily on the ground. His bow was drawn, an arrow pointed straight at the Hellbringer’s heart. I’d never seen Jac’s eyes wild like they were now. “I’ll shoot.”

The Hellbringer surveyed my brother, hands behind his back. “Then I will kill you.” The masked general turned to me and extended a beckoning hand. “I am only here for you, Princess. Will you come willingly or by force?”

I paled. “Come with you?”

He nodded. The puzzle pieces clicked into place. He hadn’t been looking for something in Bhorglid but someone . Me.

But why? Did he think I knew information about the war effort that Kryllian could use against us? I imagined all the ways he could kill me. His godtouch was only one of them.

“No,” Frode croaked. I turned to find him clinging to the tree as he pushed himself to his feet. “No, take me instead. You don’t need her. She’s godforsaken. She’s of no use to you.” It looked like he might collapse at any second. I wondered what he discerned from the Hellbringer’s thoughts.

“Sit,” I snapped. His face was devoid of all color and Jac extended a hand to steady Frode while shooting me a fearful glance.

“I will not ask again,” the Hellbringer said. “Come. Now .”

“Why?” I demanded. “Frode is right. I have no magic. I’m useless to you.”

He stepped forward until he towered directly over me, inches from my face. “Is your imagination so dull? To think I would take you and try to wield you as a weapon on my behalf?” He let out a barking laugh. “If this war were to be won by power alone, I would have slaughtered your forces years ago.”

Standing this close, could he feel me trembling? I clenched my teeth. If he didn’t want me for power, then he must want me for information. Or leverage.

The picture was clear as day in my mind’s eye: tied to a chair in the center of a Kryllian war camp, I would writhe in pain while their most powerful godtouched general tortured me, trying to get information I didn’t have. And when they finally found a truthteller among their ranks to confirm I had no knowledge, the Hellbringer would stretch out his hand and clench it into a fist, ending my life.

The commotion from the fight outside of the grove of trees was dying down. I heard Erik calling out for Jac. Maybe if I stalled for a moment, I could get away; maybe then I wouldn’t have to walk to my death.

“What will it be, Princess?” The deadly voice reverberated through the crisp air. “Willingly or by force?”

Instead of answering, I shot back another question. “Why don’t you just kill us all?”

The Hellbringer paused, his long cloak floating behind him in the breeze. “I can change my mind if you’d like.”

I didn’t answer. Erik’s calls were growing louder.

“And if we aren’t out of sight before your Father and your other brothers return, then I will change my mind,” he said softly. “That is what bringing you by force looks like.”

He reached out his black-gloved hand. I refused to let myself think about it. I barely heard Frode’s protests as I grabbed the Hellbringer’s hand.

I swore the masked general relaxed a little. But before I could make any assessment of him, a soldier clothed in black dropped from the trees, placed a hand on our clasped arms, and teleported us away from my family.

For a moment there was only darkness, the feeling of his gloved hand clasped around my wrist, and a rush of wind whipping my braids back. Then my feet touched solid ground.

I stumbled against rugged stone and fell on my hands and knees, hissing as my palms slapped against the floor. Nausea swarmed for a moment, threatening the loss of my breakfast, but gradually subsided. It was impossible to see through the thick darkness surrounding me.

Footsteps sounded, and I heard the switch of a match against something. A flicker of light slowly grew until a lantern cast a shadow against the Hellbringer’s engraved mask. Before I had the chance to say anything, the soldier who had transported us grabbed the Hellbringer by the arm once more and they were gone again.

I pushed myself onto my knees. Where was I?

The lantern swung slightly from a peg in the stone wall. I took it and held it up as I turned, taking in my surroundings.

I was in a dark, damp hallway. Despite the barrier between me and the outside world, the cold sank in, wrapping itself around me and making me shiver. When I reached out to brush my hand against the wall, the below-freezing temperature seeped through my gloves. I frowned. Who would make a structure out of metal in the wastelands?

The hallway continued in both directions, the lamplight illuminating only a few feet each way before being swallowed by utter darkness. The ground was smooth beneath my feet but covered in a thick film of dust. I wondered how long it had been since this place was inhabited.

I turned in a circle. Surely one of these directions would lead me out—but how far were we from the front? My breath, crystallizing in front of my face with every exhale, told me we were still in Bhorglid, but without being able to look around, I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I’d been transported to another place with equally frigid weather. Maybe this was Faste or even Kryllian. Maybe I wasn’t even in the Fjordlands anymore.

My body shook and I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders. My family would assume I was dead. I didn’t blame them; it was only a matter of time before the Hellbringer returned and finished me off in the blink of an eye.

I clenched my teeth from both the cold and the determination flowing through me. If I didn’t find a way out, a way back to my family, then Freja would rot in prison. Bjorn would become king. The godforsaken would never have a place in the world.

If the Hellbringer had dropped me here and left without any guards or soldiers to watch me, it must mean escape was nearly impossible. But I had to try. For Freja. And at the least, walking would keep my blood flowing and my body temperature up. This metal structure was somehow colder than the snow-covered mountaintop.

The only question remaining was: Left or right?

Freja’s voice popped into my head, with its razor-sharp spark of glee at the thought of an adventure. When in doubt, always go right. Then you can’t be wrong.

I tried to smile to myself, but my lips were so cold it became a grimace. I turned to my right and started walking.

It must have been hours later—it felt like hours later—when the lamp started sputtering. I swore. Navigating the rest of this structure in the dark would be a nightmare.

My walking had revealed more than I wanted to know. This place wasn’t simply an old, abandoned building—it was an old, abandoned prison . Thankfully, the cells I’d noticed as I explored were empty save for a few bones that looked suspiciously human. I’d hurried away from them. Knowing what remained in the cells wasn’t necessary.

The layout of the prison was utterly baffling. There were endless twists and turns. Making my way back to where I started would be impossible. I scowled. Why would the Hellbringer drop me off in an abandoned prison? What was the point?

My one useful discovery was two heavy doors with more locks than I could count. After careful examination, they appeared to be thicker than the other doors, which opened easily. I assumed these unique doors led to the outside, providing a possible means of escape. If I managed to open them, that is. Without any tools to provide leverage, picking the locks would be hopeless.

Going back the way I had come felt futile, so I took the next branching hall, starting in the other direction. The candle within the lantern sputtered again, clinging to its last bit of life. Seconds later the wick made a popping sound and the light went out.

“Damn it,” I muttered. There was no way I could go anywhere now. I reached for my sword, hoping the hilt would bring me comfort, but instead it reminded me that the Hellbringer hadn’t bothered to disarm me before taking me captive.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the dark. Some of the indentations and imperfections along the walls came into a shadowy focus. Ahead, the glow of another lamp beckoned me.

I squinted. Was I imagining it? There had been no light before.

I moved toward it. I had walked only a few feet before the passage widened into a large room.

This had clearly been a communal space at some point. Maybe a mess hall for the prisoners? But now it was curated into cozy living quarters. Most of the room was empty, but lanterns lit the entire perimeter. I walked to the back, where there was a long dining table made of dark wood with a single chair on each end. Shelves lined the walls, and a small bed was pushed against one side of the room.

To the right of the bed was a firepit. It extended into an opening in the wall, funneling smoke out through a chimney, and the crackling flames spread warmth into my bones. An involuntary gasp escaped me, and I ran toward the blaze, peeling off my cloak as I went. My knees hit the ground hard enough to bruise and I stretched my fingers toward the heat, paying no regard for how close the sparks jumped. Being burned was nothing unusual growing up as the only godforsaken child in the king’s household.

Soon my frozen extremities regained feeling. I relished the warmth. I’d been riding in the frigid air for hours, and my face had gone numb far too early in the journey. Hours spent navigating this hellhole hadn’t helped either.

With my body temperature slowly adjusting, I began wondering what I’d left behind. Was the battle over? Had Bhorglid been victorious? Or were the Kryllians taking my family prisoner right now?

No. If my father had managed to evade defeat for this long, one ambush would not be enough to tip the scales.

Comforted by the thought, I scooted to the side of the fire and rested my forehead against the wall. I told myself to check if the chimney was a feasible escape route once the fire was extinguished. Now, still shivering, I didn’t have the heart to even consider embracing the cold for such a meager chance at freedom. In the meantime, I’d take my chances and hope the Hellbringer would return.

I settled in for a long morning.

“Get up.”

The dark, distorted voice was becoming far too familiar for my liking. I started and turned, using my feet to scoot myself back against the wall. I must have dozed off in the fire’s warmth.

My eyes scanned him from toes to head, taking him in. On second, closer look, he appeared more terrifying than I had first thought. His black boots had soles two inches thick and were laced up his calves to protect him from the snow. Dark plated armor covered his legs, arms, and torso, glinting dangerously in the light of the fire. Gloves covered his hands, and the neck of his shirt concealed any skin that could potentially be exposed between the armor and the mask.

I swallowed. The mask. The skull had wide, gaping hollows where the eyes should be, two carved nostrils, and teeth bared in a wide, hideous grin. When I’d seen him on streets that were familiar and not in his domain, the helmet hadn’t felt nearly as grotesque. But here, it was my worst nightmare come to life.

He crossed his arms over his chest. The thick cloak fastened across his collarbone shifted along with his feet as he took another step toward me. “Get. Up.”

I pushed down my dread, forcing it to lie still in the pit of my stomach long enough for me to stand. He wouldn’t see me cower.

At my full height, my eyes barely reached his chin. I copied his stance, crossing my own arms and widening the space between my feet to stabilize myself. Everything in me wanted to fight, but with his godtouch there was no point.

“Kill me fast,” I said. I couldn’t tell where his eyes were, but I stared into the eyes of the carved skull. I held back a shiver. I clenched my shaking hands into fists to hide my trembling. Dying wasn’t what I wanted, but I knew it would be better than the alternative: torture, ridicule, starvation. I could only imagine the horrors in store for me at the Hellbringer’s hands.

There was a swift beat of silence that felt like an eternity. “I am not going to kill you,” he said.

I furrowed my brow. “Well, why not?”

“My queen has other plans for you, Princess,” he said. “Your cooperation is necessary for her success. Killing you now would be foolish.”

My thoughts raced. Maybe this was why he’d been searching for me. “Plans?” I asked.

He didn’t respond, and after a moment I realized he was taking me in the same way I had looked him over upon waking. I wondered what he assumed, who he thought I was. Why he’d been looking for me when there were far more powerful people who could accomplish his purposes.

He turned toward the small table I’d noticed when I first walked into the room. “Come eat.”

I didn’t move. This man was responsible for the deaths of hundreds if not thousands of my people.

Any fascination I once felt regarding him was gone. Anger coursed through me until I burned with it. He had slaughtered my people but not me. Gods be damned if he thought I would sit and eat anything he provided.

I had to be quick. Taking him out would require my life, but I’d willingly give it to pay him back for his crimes. His back was turned, and as he moved to sit at the table, I pulled my sword from the sheath at my hip and lunged for him.

There wasn’t time to blink before his own blade parried mine. I twisted, lunging out of his sword’s range before attempting to strike again. The sound of metal on metal filled my ears.

I scowled. But before I could move, he pushed his full strength against my sword, bending me backward until my wrists shook with the effort of staying upright.

The sunken eyes of the mask bored into my own. I swallowed. At least when I died it would be fighting. There was no greater honor.

He spoke, his voice eerily soft. “Did you think it would be easy?” he asked quietly. “Did you presume I couldn’t wield a weapon? That my Lurae was my only skill? That you’re the first one to attempt my assassination?”

A bead of sweat dripped past my eyes. Gods, he was strong . I gritted my teeth, trying to summon the effort to keep my wrists from snapping under the pressure. My spine was beginning to ache from bending backward at such an unnatural angle.

Without warning, he dropped his stance, sheathing his blade once more. My breath came in ragged gasps and the point of my sword hit the ground. But I refused to lower my eyes.

He wouldn’t even kill me.

“Coward,” I growled.

He didn’t dignify me with a response. Instead, he turned to the shelves behind him and began pulling out containers, placing them on the table.

My anger surged again. He would leave me alive to be tortured and used for ransom. I swung my sword again, heaving with all my might.

The Hellbringer didn’t turn; he raised a gloved hand and caught my blade in his palm, clenching his fingers around the sharp edges. The connection of my weapon against his flesh resonated like a music note.

My eyes widened. Blood ran down the silver, tinging my reflection with red.

“Put your weapon away,” he said. “There will be no wars won here. Not tonight.”

With my breathing ragged and tears blurring my eyes, I let out a guttural scream raging with agony from somewhere deep in my chest. I wished I had a godtouch to end him on sight.

But I didn’t.

He shook his head. Gravity pulled my sword until the blade clanked against the floor. The Hellbringer gestured to the container he had placed on the table. “Eat.”

I didn’t bother to place my sword back in its sheath. There was no point. I released the hilt and left it to clatter, discarded. Silence throbbed through my mind, pain building behind my eyes.

Prisoner. I was a prisoner. There was no telling how long I would be here, kept in isolation.

The worst part was knowing the truth: no one was coming for me.

I moved to the table and glanced into the wooden box. It was full of nuts and berries I didn’t recognize. Maybe they were from Kryllian.

At a sound behind me, I turned. The Hellbringer was taking off his cloak to hang it on a set of hooks set into the stone. I watched him remove his sheath and sword, placing them on the hooks as well.

Without turning around, he peeled off his right glove, the blood-soaked fabric already drying. It surprised me to see pale white skin appear, drenched with thick red. Two long, gaping lines of flesh were scored across his palm. He gazed at the hand, flexing his fingers, as if he enjoyed the pain.

I hoped he hated every moment of it.

The cloak had masked his form. His shoulders were broad, but while he was strong, he was also wiry, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in several months.

He grabbed the corner of his cloak and wiped at the blood on his hand.

“You’ll want to have a healer look at that,” I muttered.

He turned back to face the wall, pulling his stained glove over his hand again. “Eat.”

“No.”

“Then be silent,” he growled, whirling to face me. “You are standing, all your limbs attached, because I decided it would be so. But be warned: Her Highness needs you alive, nothing more.”

I clenched my jaw.

But the anger melted from his tone when he spoke again. “If you wish to sleep, the bed is yours,” he said, gesturing to it.

I didn’t move. He walked over and took a seat at the table but didn’t eat; he simply stared at the crackling fire.

Despair made my hands shake. How long would I be here? What could the Queen of Kryllian possibly want with me? How much time did I have before they realized I was useless and got rid of me?

I shook my head. If they thought I had information, they were wrong—but I bore no disillusion that they would believe me. Torture was likely in my near future. Then death when they realized I was useless. Guess I wouldn’t have to worry about competing against my brothers after all.

I stormed to the bed and buried myself under the blankets. To my surprise, they were warmer than I’d imagined. The bed itself was comfortable, too. I hated how everything was designed to make me forget I was a prisoner.

Well, everything except the tall figure, clad in black, sitting stoic and silent at the table.