Page 158 of Fallen Gods

My father is too powerful. Without the hammer, I’ve failed.

My gaze turns to Aric. Tears stream down my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Aric. I’m so sorry.” My knees buckle.

Rowen holds the object up and examines it, a small smile on his face.

It’s an artifact all right. Just the wrong one.

I recognize it as the lost Nightfrost diamond, the one given to the Giant Alvaldi by Thor himself. Mjölnir’s counterpart, the only relic in the universe that is the hammer’s equal. The legend from Laufey’s stories, from the paintings in the Eriksons’ home—it shouldn’t be here, now, in the real world.

It’s a simple band crowned with a diamond as blue as the deepest ice.

I stare, shaking. “Why would it lead me to Nightfrost?” My body trembles. “I didn’t know. I swear!”

Rowen’s eyes suddenly lock on mine, full of a grief I’m trying to understand. “I’m sorry, Rey. I really am.”

For what? What is he sorry for?

He slides the ring onto his finger.

The air splits with a jarring scream from the sky.

The moment the diamond touches his finger, the Rowen I know vanishes—and in his place stands a figure ripped frommy nightmares. Black armor. Black cape. A shattered red hammer painted across his chest in blood. Eyes glowing with an unnatural blue fire and a smile that screams evil.

Rowen.

My Rowen.

What’s happening?

Odin rises to his feet, triumphant. “Son. Welcome back.”

Son.

The word echoes in my skull until it breaks.

Thor.

The runes over his door. The glamour.

Reeve is cursing up a storm, glaring at Rowen. “Are you fucking kidding me? I killed you!”

Rowen—Thor—ignores him. Reeve turns to Odin instead.

“We had a deal, Odin! These two for the location of Nightfrost.”

Odin flicks a hand, and Reeve goes flying into the wall.

As if held by an invisible force, Reeve is pinned, thrashing. “Should have seen that coming a mile away, and yet I trusted you—fuck you very much.”

With another flick, Odin slams Reeve’s head against the wall and he drops, unconscious.

Mybrotherignores Reeve. He strides to Aric, bleeding and broken, tilts his head up with the finger wearing that cursed ring, and whispers, low in his throat, “By the time I’m finished with you, Giant, you’re going to wish you were dead. Now…try not to become a corpse before I get my weapon free.”

Then he moves around to face Aric’s back and slams his hand into it, right where the runes burned themselves down his spine. The next thing I know, he’s trying to grip something massive buried under Aric’s skin. Gold glints in the light.

Rowen pulls.

And I can see it, the world tearing open as the handle of Mjölnir becomes visible under Aric’s skin.