Page 52 of Soul of Shadow #1

As they set out from the old house, the forest felt suspiciously unmagical. Owls hooted. Crickets chirped. Leaves and sticks crunched beneath their feet. Charlie heard the distant whispers of what she assumed were fairies chattering, but that was it. Not even a snake or two-headed bird in sight.

All in all, the perceived calm made her uneasy.

Mason held out his metal bat as he walked.

Charlie kept Sophie’s knife in her right hand and a rusty pair of kitchen scissors in the left.

In the back of Elias’s closet, they’d found a spear-like weapon that Charlie prayed was made of steel, since she knew spirits of nature detested the metal.

She’d given the spear to Abigail to hold.

She’d also forced her to put on the protective steel necklace that Charlie always wore.

If they made it out of tonight alive, she would have to buy them for everyone she cared about.

In addition, they each had a pocketful of gold coins, which Charlie found in Elias’s nightstand drawer. She figured they’d be safest if they each had something to give if they ran into a wood wife.

Last, they’d all turned their clothes inside out.

Mason and Abigail had looked at her like she had lost her mind when she asked them to do this part.

She still had no idea if Elias had just made her turn her shirt inside out as a joke, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

She rearranged the items hidden in her pockets, slipping the knife, leather pouch, and her lucky deck of cards into places that would be more easily accessible now that her dress was reversed.

They were as fortified as they could hope to be, but it still felt nowhere near enough.

To her left, a bush rustled, and Charlie spun around, brandishing both her knife and scissors. When her eyes fell on the bush, however, only a white-tailed rabbit emerged from its leaves and hopped into the distance.

Charlie exhaled. “This is ridiculous. I feel like I’m losing my—”

Just ahead of them, an ash tree split in two.

Or, at least, that’s what Charlie thought the tree did.

But when she looked closer, she realized that the tree was still completely intact; what she’d taken for half the trunk splitting away was really a tall woman with bark for skin and a crown of branches atop her head detaching herself from the trunk and stepping out into the humans’ path.

Abigail made a noise that sounded like a mouse getting squished by a snow boot.

“Traveler,” said the bark-woman in a voice that creaked and rustled. “I am the askafroa , ash wife of this ancient tree.”

“Oh!” Remembering her manners, Charlie dug into one of her inside-out pockets for a gold coin. Mason and Abigail quickly followed suit. One by one, they each tossed a coin to her clawed feet. Then, uncertain how to proceed, Charlie stooped into a bow and began, “Oh, regal ash wife. We seek to— ”

“Stand up,” crackled the askafroa, and Charlie quickly straightened . “I am the soul of this ash tree. As bound to its existence as it is to mine. I care not for silly human rituals of subservience.”

“Right.” Charlie glanced sideways at her companions, who shrugged. “What do you care for, then?”

“You are friend to the mare of night,” she said instead of answering.

“No,” Charlie said, her stomach clenching painfully. “Maybe once, but… no. Elias is no friend of mine.”

“I see.” The askafroa tilted her branch-covered head, black eyes scanning Charlie’s body. “Then, you are not on the side of the trickster god, Loki?”

“Of course not,” Charlie practically spat. “Why would you ask me that? Loki wishes to destroy all of Asgard.”

“Perhaps.” With a soft crack and rustle, the askafroa walked toward Charlie. Abigail and Mason shuffled away. Charlie stayed where she was, some instinct telling her not to back away or look afraid. “Do you know the story of the ash tree, child?”

“Um.” Charlie’s eyes darted to the trunk of the tree from which the askafroa had emerged. “Sort of. I was told that it’s the most important tree in the forest.”

The askafroa’s dark eyes glittered at this. She seemed pleased. “That’s right. But do you know why it’s considered the most important?”

“I don’t.”

“There are several reasons,” the askafroa said. “The first is that its elements hold magical abilities accessible even to humans; the ash tree’s bark can stop bleeding, while its leaves may heal a snake bite. ”

“That’s… useful,” said Charlie.

“Ma’am?” came Mason’s voice, and Charlie cringed as the askafroa turned her creaky head to face her brother.

“Miss… uh, Ash Tree? Sorry. It’s just…

our friend is in trouble. Bad trouble. And we’re trying to reach her sort of quickly.

Before, you know, she…” At the withering look on the askafroa’s face, Mason shrank backward and whispered the last word: “Dies.”

“You will hear my story,” the ash wife said, joints creaking and crackling as she advanced on Mason. Charlie’s brother stumbled backward, nearly running into a tree. “Else you will find yourself suddenly ill with ash fever.”

“What’s that?” Mason asked.

“A special illness that we askafroa are able to cast upon those who displease us.” She reached up with one clawed, bark-covered finger, running it down the side of Mason’s face.

“Warts. Fever. Rash.” She leaned forward, bringing her cheek, from which sprouted little twigs with leaves at the end, beside Mason’s.

“Parasites that crawl through one’s blood, inching their way toward the heart, eventually biting into the aorta, burrowing inside, sucking your body clean… ”

“Right.” Mason cleared his throat. “Got it. Story time, then.”

The askafroa straightened and stepped backward, keeping her beady black eyes on Mason. Then, with a nod, she began.

“The universe consists of eight realms,” she said, waving a hand through the air.

Light-green phosphorescent crystals lifted from her fingers, swirling together to form what looked like orbs hanging in the sky.

“The humans believe that there are nine. That Asgard and Midgard are separate worlds, but they are wrong. One world merely exists atop the other.” As she spoke, one of the orbs lit up from the inside, as if a white lightbulb were at its center.

“The realms are connected by the roots and branches of Yggdrasil, the great tree of life.” The askafroa waved a hand, and the orbs rearranged themselves into a lopsided circle.

Around and between them, more crystals appeared, coalescing and extending into the rough shape of a trunk, roots, and dangling branches.

“Asgard and Midgard sit within the trunk of the tree. Alfheim, Vanaheim, Muspelheim, and Niflheim hang from its branches. Jotunheim, Svartalfheim, and Helheim are connected via the roots.” As she named each of the realms, the orbs lit up in turn, indicating the location of each.

“Now.” The askafroa turned to her human audience. “What you may not know is that Yggdrasil is an ash tree. A green ash, to be exact—the same as my tree in this forest.”

She paused, probably waiting for Charlie and the others to fill in the ending from there.

When none of them did, she sighed and gestured to the floating image of the world-tree.

“Do you not see? Ash is sacred. It is the Great Connector, the tissue that holds together all eight realms. And I, as an askafroa, am one of Yggdrasil’s many guardians. ”

“Wait.” Charlie stepped forward, looking between the ash wife and the image of Yggdrasil. “You’re telling me that the ash tree you just stepped out of… is somehow connected to all of the other realms?”

The askafroa nodded without blinking.

“Then it’s you who sent those kids to Muspelheim. To become sacrifices for Surtur.”

Drawing away, the ash wife hissed. “Neither I nor any of my sisters would allow such a thing. We fear Ragnarok as greatly as the gods do. And all creatures are expressly prohibited from using Yggdrasil as a means of transportation. It is far too precious. The only way to move between realms is via the Bifrost. The great rainbow bridge that humans believe connects Earth and Asgard but in reality connects all eight realms.”

“Then how did—”

“The beast Fenrir has committed a heinous crime against the eight realms. By using the sacred Yggdrasil to transport those bodies, he dabbled in the worst form of dark magic: askmagi , or ash magic. The most powerful form of magic there is—but one that, when used, chafes away at the very fibers holding the realms together.”

Charlie, Mason, and Abigail exchanged worried looks.

“That doesn’t sound good,” said Mason as they turned back to the askafroa .

“An astute observation, human,” said the ash wife dryly.

“The Fenrir’s callous use of askmagi to feed Surtur has set a dangerous precedent.

There are those across the eight realms who detest the gods and would gladly see Ragnarok released upon Asgard.

As word reaches them of the Fenrir’s success, they won’t hesitate to follow suit—to nurture Surtur back to his full strength and, in doing so, eat away at the barrier that separates and protects the eight realms.” Her leaves shuddered.

“It would be chaos. Realm bleeding into realm, magic run amok, Surtur on the loose. For us spirits and creatures of Asgard, and you humans as well, we couldn’t imagine a worse fate. ”

“Then who—” Charlie started.

“There are other realms,” said the askafroa, guessing at Charlie’s question, “as I told you earlier. Alfheim, home of the elves. Svartalfheim, home of the dwarves. Jotunheim, home of the giants. And so on. ”

“Other realms,” Charlie filled in, “that would gladly see power taken from the Asgardian gods.”

The ash wife inclined her head. “But we cannot allow that to happen.” She gestured to the coins on the ground. “You have come bearing gifts for me. These are much appreciated and will not be forgotten.”

Charlie’s shoulders sagged, releasing tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

“Now.” The askafroa’s leaves and branches rustled as she drew herself up to her full height.

“I will allow you to leave without casting ash fever upon anyone in your party. And for your kindness, I will impart this: I did see the mare of night running through these woods. A girl was with him, but something seemed… not quite right with her. They were headed in the direction of the beach—a place you should not go to lightly. Dark forces have long lingered around that area. Go with caution.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said. “That’s very—”

The askafroa held up a sharp, twiggy finger, silencing her. “ However ”—she fixed all three of them with her beady-eyed stare—“I must task you with a mission.”

Not another one , thought Charlie. Aloud, she asked, “What kind of mission?”

“When you find the great Fenrir beast, you must bring me one of his teeth.”

Bring her a tooth ? Charlie could hardly hold in her shock. She was already supposed to slip under this beast’s nose and steal back her best friend. Now she needed to perform dental work on him, too?

“And if we turn this mission down?” Charlie asked.

The askafroa inspected her fingers. “How sad it would be if you all came down with a strange illness at once. One for which no doctor has a cure.”

She really needs a new threat , Charlie thought before giving a sharp nod. “We’ll get it.”

The ash wife nodded, pleased, before slinking back and fusing into the tree, wood creaking and leaves rustling as the two became one again. Charlie exhaled, glancing first at Mason, who looked just as shaken as she felt. Then she turned to Abigail, expecting to find the same thing.

Instead, her friend had a huge grin on her face.

“You know,” she said, turning to Charlie and Mason. “Maybe this town isn’t so boring after all.”