Page 18 of Soul of Shadow #1

Charlie burst through her bedroom door. She tore across the room, straight toward the white wooden desk that sat beneath the bay windows.

Scattered on its surface were her laptop, her schoolbooks, a set of pens in different colors, a pile of hair ties, and a few framed photos.

She pulled shut the white drapes hanging from the windows, sat in the cushioned swivel chair before the desk, and opened her laptop.

It had been a chaotic journey home. After Elias disappeared, she had taken off into the woods, sprinting blindly in what she hoped was the direction of her car.

She ran with her head down, trying not to get distracted by the things she could now see and hear in the forest: the whisper of inhuman voices, the pitter-patter of tiny feet, huge birds swooping overhead, strange laughter echoing in the distance.

She never once slowed her pace, never stopped to catch her breath or think about what was happening to her. She just needed to be home.

It took a half hour of searching to find her car.

When she got inside and put the key in the ignition, lighting up the dashboard, she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

There was a tiny creature sitting on her steering wheel.

It was only a few inches high. Most of its body was covered with a long beard; all Charlie could see of the creature was a round nose and a tall, pointed hat.

Before she could think to do anything else, she swatted it out onto the pavement, slammed the door shut, and backed out of her parking spot.

She drove home like a criminal fleeing the scene of a robbery.

It was a miracle she wasn’t pulled over—though she was fairly certain that the police were too wrapped up in the boys’ disappearances to care about her breaking the speed limit.

She pointedly ignored the scenes flashing past the windows: vines wrapped around stoplights, huge orange fruits dangling from trees she’d never noticed before, something with six legs and horns galloping past in her rearview mirror.

At one intersection, she could have sworn she spotted two men in full armor having a sword fight on a street corner.

She drove right past and didn’t look back.

After parking the Bronco in the driveway and slamming the front door behind her, Charlie ignored the calls of her mom from the kitchen—no doubt wondering where she had been—and sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom.

She hadn’t even known what she intended to do until she was there, sitting at her desk, mind reeling.

She clicked on the internet browser and typed:

Asgard

Hundreds of thousands of results loaded onto the screen. Links to the Marvel Cinematic Universe Wiki page, board games, video games, and Norse mythology websites. Charlie clicked a link to Britannica.com and read the definition it listed.

Asgard - in Norse mythology, the dwelling place of the gods, comparable to the Greek Mount Olympus.

Charlie hit the back button and toggled over to images of Asgard.

They were mostly paintings and digital illustrations featuring variations on the same thing: a city in the sky, with mountains, shining golden towers, a horizon of starlight, and a long rainbow bridge.

They were beautiful landscapes. Magical.

Completely incapable of existing on Earth.

Or were they?

Charlie glanced up at the windows. White drapes blocked her view of the street beyond.

She had closed them on purpose; she was hiding from what she might see outside.

Inside her house, things were relatively normal—colors didn’t shine too brightly, scents weren’t too overwhelming, and from what she could tell, no strange creatures lurked in the corners of her bedroom.

But if she were to look outside…

She grabbed the drapes and tore them open.

At first, she didn’t see anything amiss.

Her street corner was still her street corner.

Yes, the moonlight was extra bright, as if it had passed through an amplifier.

Yes, the tree outside her window now held fruits of every color, orange and red and blue and purple, when she was fairly certain it had been a plain old oak tree when she woke up that morning.

Yes, exotic flowers now sprouted from the boxes under her windowsill.

But at least there was no sword fight happening on the street corner. At least—

Something flickered at the edge of her vision.

She pulled the drapes back even farther, only to find a wolf the size of a minivan prowling down the street. Pitch-black, glowing red eyes, fangs the size of forearms and dripping with saliva.

Just… walking down her block.

Gasping, she yanked the drapes shut and sat back down. What the hell was that thing? Was that a normal occurrence for Elias? To see a car-size beast strolling around the street?

Her head fell into her hands. She clutched at her hair.

Is this really happening? Is Elias telling the truth?

That Norse mythology is real? That he’s a human turned demon?

That Earth is Asgard, whatever the hell that means?

It all felt like too much, too fanciful to be true, and yet what other explanation did she have for what was happening around her?

None. She had no other.

“This is real,” she whispered. “I haven’t lost my mind. This is really happening.”

She had to believe that. She had to believe what she was seeing, because the only other option was to check herself into the hospital for testing. And Lou would not stand for her missing homecoming.

She exhaled and lifted her head. Right. So. If she was going to accept that Elias Everhart truly was a mare, and that he had some devious plan involving her, then it would probably be prudent to do as much research on Norse mythology as possible. Figure out exactly what she was up against. Right?

She opened a new Google search and typed:

Mare, Nordic mythology

She clicked the top result, which led to a blog on different cultures’ mythology:

The mare (or mara) is a creature appearing in old European mythologies (Dutch, German, Scandinavian, and Polish, to name a few) that is believed to be the bringer of nightmares and sleep terrors.

The mare takes various forms depending on the culture of origin, but it is almost universally depicted as a terrifying creature that sits on a sleeping person’s chest and gives them bad dreams .

The article featured pictures with artists’ renditions of the mare: a green, goblin-like creature; a pale, beautiful woman; an old woman with sunken eyes and white hair. No depiction looked anything like the shadow creature that Elias had become, but what did these artists know?

Charlie glanced at her phone, which she had set beside her laptop.

Its screen was blank, free from any texts or missed calls, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it lit up any minute with a message from her group chat with Lou and Abigail.

They were always talking—arguing, really—and the chat had been especially active in the last few days with the disappearances and discussion of their other, more pressing mission: finding dates to homecoming.

Charlie couldn’t help but roll her eyes when she thought about stressing over who to ask to homecoming. How ridiculous. How trivial, in the light of everything she could now see.

She longed to pick up the phone and call Lou.

To tell her about what she had witnessed and ask for advice on what to do, what to believe.

But she knew the deal she’d made with Elias.

And more than anything else—more than homecoming, more than demons, more than myths and gods and devious plans—that deal was what mattered.

Keeping her loved ones safe was what mattered.

She couldn’t lose anyone else.