Page 53 of Soul of Shadow #1

After another twenty minutes of walking—first through the forest, then on sand—they made it to the rusted fence.

On the other side, the long, flat beach stretched on, flanked by trees to the east and a tall sand dune blocking their view to the north.

Charlie opened the map on her phone, confirming the Oxford Power Plant was directly ahead behind that dune.

Mason reached out and grabbed the chain-link, shaking it back and forth. “You really think there’s something magical hidden inside the power plant?”

“You heard what the askafroa said.” Charlie looked down the fence to where it met the water and connected to a tall pier made of rocks and thick wooden logs.

The v?tte was scampering along the bottom, sniffing suspiciously at the sand.

“She saw Elias running in this direction. And she said that ‘dark forces’ linger around the area.”

“That could mean anything,” Mason said. “How do we know her ex–ash husband doesn’t live here, and she was talking about him?”

“You there!”

All of them froze at the deep voice booming out over the beach. They spun around to find two hulking figures running toward them over the sand. Charlie was about to tell her friends to grab the fence and climb as fast as possible when she realized who the figures were.

“Vidar?” She squinted through the moonlight. “Bjorn?”

“It is you,” said Vidar, panting slightly as they came to a halt before her. His dark hair was matted to his neck, and he clutched a huge axe in one hand. “We’ve been looking all over town.”

Abigail was staring at the men with eyes so wide Charlie thought they might pop right out and roll across the sand. She kept glancing down to the numerous enormous weapons strapped to their bodies.

“Why?” Charlie asked. “Do you need something?”

“Are you guys actual Vikings ?” interrupted Mason, sounding like a child meeting a mall Santa Claus for the first time.

“Yes, we are,” said Bjorn, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword and holding his chin up so that his blond hair, now braided in three places, slid down his back. “We are warriors of Asgard, fallen in battle and taken by—”

“We do need your help, child,” Vidar said, interrupting Bjorn. “To get back into Valhalla.”

Charlie stared at him in disbelief. “You think I can help you with that?”

“We know you can,” said Vidar. “We were visited by a Valkyrie last night. One who looked just like you. She bade us to assist you on your quest to stop the mare of night.”

“If we’re successful,” added Bjorn eagerly, “we’ll be taken back to Valhalla.”

Vidar rolled his eyes. “She made no such promise, Bjorn, as you well know. Though she did imply that helping the girl complete her quest would greatly raise our standing in the eyes of the Allfather.”

“Yes,” Charlie said quickly. “Yes, you may come. We could use all the help we can get.”

Thank you, Sophie , she thought, hoping her sister could somehow hear.

“Excellent.” Bjorn patted his rotund belly. “What first?”

Charlie turned around and pointed at the fence. “First we need to climb this, then—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the Viking warriors had gently shoved her aside and began hacking at the fence with their various weapons. Soon, the fence was bent, sliced, and shoved until a gnarled opening stood before them.

“Or… you could just do that.” Charlie nodded. “Let’s go.”

The six of them—v?tte included—tramped through the opening. Abigail was the last to go through, mumbling as she did, “We are so getting arrested for this.”

“Where are we headed?” asked Bjorn, brandishing his sword as if it were a compass needle leading their way forward.

“According to my phone,” Charlie said, squinting at the pin toward which her little blue dot was moving, “the power plant is just around that dune over there.” She pointed to the hump of sand that stretched two stories into the air, covered in tufted beach grass that waved in the night breeze.

As the six of them trekked across the sand, green lights appeared at the tree line. The lights danced through the air, flashing and twinkling out over the sand.

“Whoa,” Mason said, eyes wide as he took in the lights, taking a step toward them. “What are— ”

“Don’t.” Charlie caught her brother’s arm. “Those are will-o’-the-wisps. Lost undead spirits that will lead you so deep into the forest you won’t be able to find your way out.”

Mason shook off Charlie’s arm but stayed where he was, staring wistfully after the green lights as they danced back into the trees. He looked as if he desperately wished to follow. Vidar was the one to knock Mason over the back of his head with one meaty palm.

“Don’t be an idiot, son,” the Viking said. “Listen to the girl.”

Mason blinked twice, then stumbled after the group.

The bottom of the dune sat just back from the waterline, leaving a small ledge of flat, wet sand over which they could pass.

They followed it around the dune, their shoes leaving shallow footprints that would wash away as soon as a wave rolled onto shore.

After a few dozen yards, the dune gave way, and the area where the power plant should have been came into view.

Only, it was empty.

One long stretch of sand, scattered with rocks and beach grass and absolutely nothing else.

Empty.

Charlie’s heart sank. No . Could Elias have been wrong? Could he have left a false clue for her to find, knowing she would search his bedroom and find his body? Or perhaps there was some sort of enchantment around the area, one that made it invisible even to those who have eaten an eyaerberry.

“ Dammit! ” Charlie yelled, throwing Sophie’s knife into the sand. It wedged in, tip down, and the handle wobbled above it. “Dammit, dammit, dammit.” She stormed forward, searching the ground for any disturbances or signs of magic .

“What is it?” asked Vidar. “Are we supposed to see something here?”

“Charlie—” Abigail started, but Charlie ignored her, kicking up bursts of sand. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t have been. Not when Lou’s life was on the line. Not when every second that ticked past led Lou closer to death.

“The Fenrir’s hiding place has to be here,” Charlie said, wading into a patch of beach grass. “It was supposed to be here. It—”

Her foot landed on something hard that gave a hollow thunk .

Charlie froze. She looked slowly down as the others rushed to her side. Together, they bent over, Charlie dropping to her knees and pushing aside the tall grass. Abigail and Mason brushed away the thin layer of sand on the ground, only to find—

A hatch.

It was not like the hatch Charlie and Mason had at home—the one carved into the ceiling on the second floor that led to the attic, made of wood and plaster with a metal ring into which a hook attached to a long pole could be slipped, enabling them to open it.

No. This hatch was made of stone. It had no discernible latch or handle, no obvious way to pull it open.

Its edges were so perfectly fitted to the sand and earth surrounding it that there was no way they could slip their fingers under a crack in its side. It looked impenetrable.

Carved into its surface was a shallow depiction of two snakes wound around each other, making the loose approximation of the letter S . Charlie recognized the symbol from her research; it belonged to the god Loki.

“It’s magic,” Mason said at once, sounding excited. “That must be it. You need magic to open the hatch.”

“Idiot.” Abigail pointed at the hatch. “How are we supposed to open something that requires magic when none of us have any ?”

They were right. You probably did need magic to open the door. Elias, in his mare form, would have had no problem getting through and then opening it from the other side for Lou. As humans, Charlie and her friends had no such ability, but the Vikings…

“Don’t look at us,” said Bjorn. “We have no magic but our abilities with the sword.”

“Speaking of which—” Vidar raised his sword high and brought it down on the hatch. The metal bounced uselessly off the stone, not even leaving a scratch.

“Wait,” said Charlie, stilling Vidar’s arm before he could strike again. Her companions turned to look at her. “I know what to do.”

“You do?” Vidar asked.

Charlie looked over at Sophie’s knife, which was still stuck tip down in the sand.

The knife that could cut through anything.

She sent up a silent thank-you to Sophie, wherever she was, then ran over and grabbed the knife.

She hurried back over to the hatch and, grasping with two hands, raised the blade high above her head.

In one smooth movement, she drove it down into the hatch.

She needn’t have used so much force; the knife slid through the stone as easily as a soft pat of butter. It sunk straight down to its hilt.

“Damn,” said Mason, staring with wide eyes. “What kind of Jedi-lightsaber knife is that?”

Guilt twisted her stomach. She wanted to tell Mason the truth—that the knife was a weapon of the Valkyries, that it belonged to Sophie, that Sophie was alive , miraculously alive, blessed by the gods, thriving in ways they could never have imagined.

But she couldn’t. Not now. Not when they needed to stay focused on getting into this hatch and rescuing Lou.

But she would tell him. Eventually, she would.

“The kind that’s going to help us get your homecoming date back,” said Charlie with a quick grin to her brother.

She straightened up and sawed the knife up and down.

It sliced cleanly through the rock. She moved it in a slow, wide circle, making sure there would be more than enough room for them to squeeze through.

Eventually, the stone rumbled and shook, and as the circle was completed, with one final groan, the stone gave way and dropped.

Half a second later, a great, beach-shaking crunch resounded from below the hatch.