CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jade swam slowly up from great depths. Shying away from the memory of shattering pain; of utter blackness; of nothingness; she moved into a familiar, grey world of shifting fogs and whispered, half-heard voices. She drifted for what seemed like eternity in limbo, chasing voices, peering into the mists, wondering how to find her way home.
At last, a voice murmured her name clearly. A vaguely familiar voice: kind, tired and patient. She turned toward it eagerly, hoping to see a face but finding only more fog. The voice called again, whispering reassurances at first, then instructions. Information she’d never read about this game-world: what the next three ‘quests’ entailed; what countries they would encounter; a basic idea of what they needed to do in each.
The voice faded, fainter and more exhausted until it stopped altogether. Jade called out, hoping to find out more but to no avail. She was once again alone, trying desperately to remember everything she’d heard.
Now, a different voice called. One she recognised but couldn’t put a name to. Puzzled, she turned toward it. Drawn by a green-gold glow, she floated reluctantly out of suspension and back to life.
With a gasp, Jade sat up, blinking in the light. She felt her body, patting it to make sure she had all her arms and legs, her head, her face. Everything felt ok. Tentatively, she rotated her shoulders, expecting pain. After all, her last memory had been of a massive troll fist crashing into her frail body. Nothing seemed amiss. Everything appeared to be functioning fine. How strange.
“Jade?” Another familiar voice drew her attention. This one she could name. Phoenix knelt beside her bed, looking both anxious and thankful. Behind him stood Marcus, his normally-solemn expression one of glad relief. Next to him, Brynn clutched at Phoenix’s shoulder with wide-eyed disbelief. Suddenly, the boy threw himself into Jade’s arms.
“I thought you were dead,” he howled. “Don’t ever do that again! I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Jade patted his thin back, wondering how to remind him it was probably going to happen at least another five times - if she couldn’t avoid it. Finally, his sobs subsided and he moved away, wiping his grubby face with an equally grubby sleeve.
“Where are we?” she asked, bemused.
She was in some sort of bedroom that much was obvious. It was a room unlike any she’d ever seen. The walls were some sort of pale, almost translucent white stone. The blocks fitted so smoothly that she could barely see the joins. The bed on which she lay was an enormous, canopied affair that dripped velvet curtains and gold tassels. All around stood exotically-designed pieces of furniture ornamented with plant designs picked out in gold leaf. Through a huge, arched window, she could only see darkness and faint stars.
“We’re in Alfheim,” Phoenix replied. “The Elves only just let us in to see you.”
“Alfheim...” She frowned, trying to connect the dots. “Oh! ‘Elf-home’, the home of the elves in Norse mythology. How did we get here?”
Phoenix told of the arrival of the Elven Wild Hunt; the destruction of the troll; his plea to the Elven king. Jade stared at him with amazement. Asking Elves for anything was either impressively brave or astonishingly ignorant. They were known to be tricksy, fickle folk when dealing with mortals. She was pretty sure Phoenix’d been oblivious to the danger, although he had shown a fair amount of bravery in the last couple of weeks.
When he finished, she frowned. “So how did we get to Alfheim then?”
The others exchanged glances, all three looking a little paler.
“The king gave our horses the ability to fly – temporarily, I hope,” Phoenix added with a shudder. “We travelled over what he called ‘Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge’ – kind of a solid rainbow into the sky then...somewhere else. Here, I guess.” He shook himself again as if to be rid of a bad memory. “Honestly, I hope we never have to do it again. It was...a long, long way up and there were no handrails.”
“Terrifying,” Brynn put in, shivering.
“Most unpleasant, I must admit,” Marcus agreed.
“Oh, yes.” Jade recalled what she knew of Norse mythology. “Bifrost connects Midgard to Asgard. I didn’t know it went to Alfheim, too.”
“I thought we had to go down the roots of that tree Truda told us about: Igdrizzle or whatever,” Brynn complained.
“Yggdrasil,” Jade corrected. “Yeah, that’s the other way to get here. I guess this was easier.”
“Debatable,” Phoenix muttered.
Jade chose not to dignify that with an answer. She had something more important on her mind. “Where’s Truda?”
“She’s with the king and his court, why?” Phoenix was puzzled.
“Don’t you understand?”
The others shook their heads.
“I’ve just remembered. The world of Alfheim is on the same level as Asgard, under the roots of the Yggdrasil tree. From here, we should be able to get across to Asgard!” Jade fidgeted with excitement as she recalled soft words whispered while she floated in limbo. They were finally nearing the end of Level Two. “Don’t you see? All we have to do is get there, return Truda to Thor before her birthday and...steal...his...” Her words ground to a halt as she met Phoenix’s sceptical gaze. “Yes, I suppose we’re not really that much better off, are we? Stealing the hammer was always going to be the hardest part.” Sighing, she slumped back on her pillows as exhaustion swept over her.
Marcus leaned in, concerned. “You probably should rest.”
Phoenix nodded and quirked a knowing grin at her. “Being dead sure takes it out of you, doesn’t it?”
Jade smiled a little. “Speaking of being dead, where’s my knife?”
Marcus handed over her belt knife. She inspected the handle. Sure enough, one of the rubies was blackened and cracked through the middle. Only six left. Scary.
Phoenix grinned again. “An old friend of yours gave us some help. She and her ladies have been looking after you.” He glanced at the door. It opened and a familiar figure entered.
She sat up, surprised. “Aurfanon!”
The golden Queen of the dryads glided gracefully toward the bed. Phoenix and the others withdrew a little, leaving her space to sit beside Jade. The queen sank onto the mattress with hardly a sigh of her fine linen dress. She smiled, the corners of her amber eyes crinkling pleasantly. Reaching out, she placed a cool hand on Jade’s forehead.
“You are well, child?” Her voice was a whisper of wind through autumn leaves.
Jade nodded. “Thank you. How did you get here? You were in Engl...Albion, in Anoeth – the Timeless Land of the Elven folk there. How can you be here, so far from your oak tree?” As far as she knew, dryads were tied to their trees. Surely Sweden was too far away for Aurfanon to travel.
The Queen smiled again. “Silly child. The Anoeth is not like the mortal world. It is everywhere at once. What is Alfheim to the Svear people, is Anoeth to the Bretons. My tree is here, too. When the king told me of your need, of course I came.”
“Th…thankyou, your majesty,” Jade stuttered, humbled. “I don’t know why you’re being so kind to me. I’m nobody to you or the king.”
Aurfanon sent her a sidelong glance beneath long lashes. She smiled a secret little smile, shook her head and patted Jade’s hand. “When you are better, you must come to the dining hall and meet his majesty.” Standing, she swept the others with a cool look. “Your companions will dine here.”
“But…” Jade protested.
“I’m sorry but mortals are forbidden to enter Vídbláinn, the king’s own hall,” Aurfanon said firmly. “Your companions will await your return. That is the king’s will.” With that, the golden queen swept out of the room, leaving the four companions speechless.
After a few moments, Phoenix turned to Jade with an ironic smile, his arms folded.
“So you get VIP status again, huh. Happy?”
Jade glowered at him. “Don’t b
e mean. I didn’t ask her to do that.”
“No, but you sure didn’t argue much,” he pointed out. “Well, I’m sure you’ll love getting the royal treatment again. We’ll just wait for you here, shall we?”
She felt hot tears of hurt and injustice sting her eyes. She turned her back and closed her eyes. “Just go away, Phoenix. I’m tired.” She heard heavy footsteps. A door slammed but not before Phoenix’s angry words reached her.
“Man, she can be such a princess sometimes.”
For a long time, Jade stayed curled up, shaking and struggling to hold back tears. She thought she’d found real friends in Phoenix, Marcus and Brynn. Now Phoenix was treating her just like her sisters did – trying to make her feel worthless. First on the cliff, now here. Why? Why did he do it? She didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t fair.
She sat up, thrusting the heavy covers aside. It didn’t matter. At home she might be the least-loved daughter of a huge family but here she was something special. She wasn’t going to lie around in bed feeling miserable. It was time to go meet the Elven king. Phoenix could just get stuffed.
She slipped out of bed. The floor was stone but pleasantly warm to her bare feet. Looking down, she realized she wore only a thin woolen shift. Smiling, she reached for her pack and withdrew the beautiful green dress Ásúlfr had given her.
A few moments later, dressed as ready as she’d ever be, Jade swallowed heavily and opened the door to her room. Outside, with her hand poised in mid-knock, stood Truda. She wore the blue dress that matched Jade’s. The god-child smiled brightly up at Jade, her head cocked to one side.
“You’re all better! Good.” She grabbed her hand and tugged on it. “Come on, I’m supposed to take you to the hall. It’s really nice. I haven’t been here before.” On she went, chattering like a magpie about the wonders of Alfheim and her joy at being so close to home again. The child seemed certain she would be back with her family very soon, although she obviously had no idea how to get to Asgard from Alfheim.
With a laugh, Jade followed her down several confusing, white corridors. In the distance, sounds of revelry swelled. Soon, she saw a warm, golden glow streaming through an arched entrance. The sound of gentle laughter and breathy flute music came with it.
Jade stopped at the doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust a little. Truda dropped her hand and skipped straight in, leaving her alone. She fought the urge to run away. What if the Elves hated her? What if the king himself banished her from his hall in disgust at seeing a mere half-elf. She had no idea what attitude full Elves took toward half-breeds.
She drew a slow lungful of air, raised her chin and stepped into the room. Stretched out before her was a massive hall made of timber. It wasn’t cut timber but the close-planted trunks of tall trees. The roof was their arching, thickly leaved branches. In the centre of the floor was a circular, bare patch of earth. Surrounding it was a vast area of soft, green moss, out of which poked smooth, grey boulders like seats around a stage. Several beautiful dryad women sat on those rocks, strumming and playing instruments of strange design. The music was soft but eerie – not quite what her human ear was used to.
Most importantly, there were a fifty or more tall, fair, exquisitely beautiful true elves. They lounged around three long, stone tables in various attitudes of remote disinterest. All wore long robes of shimmering, purple-blue material and matching looks of slight disdain on their elegant faces. It was difficult to tell if they were male or female, since they all wore their white-blonde hair loose past their shoulders. Only one also wore a thin silver circlet on his brow.
This, the tallest of the elves rose from the table and approached her. It had to be the Elven King. Jade dropped instinctively into a deep curtsy, fearful anticipation stirring in her stomach as he came nearer.
“Rise, child,” he ordered quietly.
She stood obediently. Her head barely reached his shoulder. She didn’t dare look up but stared fixedly at the trees behind him. Long, white fingers reached out and tipped her chin up with a strength that belied their narrow, delicate appearance. Finally, she was forced to look at him.
His eyes were so dark they seemed black, but were actually a bottomless indigo-purple, set beneath pale, flying brows in a smooth, elegantly-boned face. Long, white hair divided around pointed ears so the front lengths, bound by decorative silver rings, fell onto his chest. Everything about him was cool, yet infinitely powerful; raw wildness restrained by vast intelligence. Where Aurfanon was Queen of the golden dawn, the Earth and new life personified; the Elven King was the glittering, star-strewn sky; the full moon; cold darkness with a taste of death in the final hours of night.
Then he smiled gently and the whole aspect of his face changed. He no longer looked cold and frightening but calm and wise. Jade smiled hesitantly back. With a gesture for her to walk with him, he moved toward the table where an extra chair waited.
“Aurfanon mentioned you visited her in her home tree,” he said. “She also said your mother is Eleri, Spellweaver of the great Cyfriniol forest. Eleri daughter of Brychan the hunter. Is this true?”
Jade nodded, wondering why he sounded so amused.
The tall Elven prince turned and smiled down at her. “Of course it is. I can see the resemblance.
She stared at him, astonished. How did he know her avatar’s mother? Before she could ask, the Elven King was touching two forefingers on each hand to his forehead, lips and heart.
“I have been remiss, Jade gan Eleri,” he murmured and bowed slightly in formal greeting.
She returned the gesture awkwardly. She’d never had to make the correct Elvish salutation before.
“I am Arawn, Lord of Anoeth, the Timeless land of the Faery or, as the Svear people call me: Freyr, king of Alfheim – home of the Elves. I am also,” he led her gently to a chair between himself and Aurfanon, “your father.”