Page 156 of Fallen Gods

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Aric

I can’t see straight. Everything blurs. The only thing I feel is the burn of the runes, pounding through my back like a second, broken heartbeat, and the cold of the steel Reeve holds to my neck.

I never imagined it would be my own brother who would betray us. But he isn’t truly my brother, is he? I suck in another labored breath. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. The cold is keeping me alive, slowing my heart just like Rey talked about what feels like a lifetime ago, but the chains are keeping me from truly healing.

I will get free somehow. And when I do, I’m going to use my hands to rip Odin limb from limb.

We were hoping the Hunt was distraction enough to buy us some time once we found Mjölnir—but we were wrong.

The important thing now is to get myself free so I can help Rey. She’s the only thing left that matters to me. I weigh my options as more silver blood spews from the purposeful slices across my arms and legs. I might need to take them all on. I might also die trying.

If they thought I was done fighting, they’re dead wrong.

My chest seizes as Rey takes the first step into the dark pool at the end of the hall, then the second. Her body shakes. When she hits the third, she looks over her shoulder at me one last time.

Gutted, I can only hold her gaze, my heart in my throat as she turns away.

I hope my eyes can convey everything my voice can’t.

I love you. I believe in you. I’m sorry.

Her head vanishes beneath the water.

As soon as she disappears, Reeve drops the sword at my throat. Odin glances over once, brief, calculating, before turning back to the dark water. The storm inside me breaks loose outside, waves crashing against the stone steps, freezing into jagged sheets of ice.

“Only one can wield it,” Reeve whispers under his breath, eyes glittering.

I jerk my head toward him. “What?”

“Only one.” He enunciates every syllable. “It calls to the blood of Odin, but only those of worth can lift it.”

My heart warms for just a second. If Rey finds the hammer, I know she can wield it, even without her blood. She’s worthy.

My breaths come shorter, thinner, every second dragging me closer to the edge. Every second she doesn’t surface. Every second she’s under, looking for Mjölnir, I realize I’ve lost everything that ever mattered.

I close my eyes and envision the ice. I send light down through it, the last of what I can feel snapping between my fingers. I only hope it’s enough light for her to find her way home.

To me.

Chapter Eighty

Rey

My lungs scream as I fight the current, chest tightening with every stroke. The water is surprisingly warm, ink-dark, except for the faint blue light shimmering from the ice trail Aric created. I dive deeper, deeper than I’d ever dare, heart pounding and vision tunneling as the glow sharpens into shape. Ten feet more, maybe less.

Something waits at the bottom.

The current claws at me, whipping at my skirts, trying to drag me away. I’ve never been a strong swimmer, obviously never delighted in practicing. I don’t know what dark sources feed this pool or where these deadly currents lure their prey. But the thought is tearing at my brain, making me desperate to stop, to turn back.

But I keep going. Aric needs me.

Ears popping and lungs straining, I kick deeper into the murky depths. The darkness is nearly absolute now, past the point Aric’s light can reach, and I can barely force down my panic—but I suddenly notice a sickly green glow emanating from my palm.

No, from the stone. From the rune of the serpent.

Light seems to drift from it like smoke, leading me toward…