It was the Shadow who had led the attack on the Disir stronghold, a city of
solid ice close to the top of the world. She had slain the Valkyrie queen,
Brynhildr, casting her into the heart of a flaming volcano.
By the time the sun had risen low over the horizon, the power of the
Valkyries had been broken forever, their frozen city had lain in melted
ruins, and less than a handful had survived. They fled into a terrifying icy
Shadowrealm that even Scathach would not venture into. The surviving Disir
called that night Ragnar k, the Doom of the Gods, and swore eternal vengeance
on the Shadow.
Sophie brought her hands together and a miniature whirlwind appeared in her
palms. Fire and ice had destroyed the Disir in the past. What would happen if
she used a little Fire magic to heat up the wind? Even as the thought crossed
Sophie s mind, the Disir leapt forward, her sword raised high over her head
in a two-handed grip. Dee wants you alive, but he didn't say unharmed , she
snarled.
Sophie brought her hands to her mouth, pressed the thumb of her left had
against the trigger on her wrist and blew hard. The whirlwind spiraled onto
the floor and grew. It bounced once, twice then hit the Disir.
Sophie had superheated the air until it was hotter than a furnace. The
blistering whirlwind grabbed the Valkyrie, spun her around, rolled her over
and tossed her high into the air. She crashed into the crystal chandelier,
smashing all the bulbs save one. In the sudden gloom, the whirlwind dancing
across the floor glowed with shimmering orange heat. The Valkyrie crashed to
the ground but was immediately on her feet, even as shards of crystal crashed
about her like glass rain. Her pale skin was bright red and looked badly
sunburned, her blond eyebrows completely singed off. Without a word, she
slashed out with her sword, the heavy blade cutting right through the
banister rail at Sophie s hand.
Sophie heard her brother s voice calling from the kitchen. He was in trouble!
The Valkyrie surged forward. Another superheated whirlwind caught her,
ripping the sword from her hand and spinning her away, sending her tumbling
into her sister, who had trapped Joan in a corner and battered her to her
knees with a ferocious onslaught. The two Disir crashed to the floor in a
clatter of weapons and armor.
Joan get back! Sophie shouted.
Fog flowed from the girl s fingers and curled across the floor; thick ribbons
and ropes of smoky air wrapped around the women, swathing them in chains of
scalding hot air. It took an enormous effort of will, but Sophie managed to
thicken the fog, spinning it faster and faster around the struggling Disir
until they were shrouded in a thick mummylike cocoon, similar to the one the
Witch had enfolded her in.
Sophie could feel herself weakening, leaden exhaustion making her eyes gritty
and her shoulders heavy. Drawing upon the remnants of her power, she clapped
her hands and lowered the temperature of the air in the foggy cocoon so
quickly that it flash-froze into a crackling lump of solid ice.
There. You should feel right at home, Sophie whispered hoarsely. She
slumped, then forced herself to her feet and was about to dart into the
kitchen when Joan stretched out her arm, stopping her. Oh no you don't. Me
first. The woman took a step toward the kitchen door, then glanced over her
shoulder to the block of ice, with the two Disir partially visible within.
You saved my life, she said softly.
You would have beaten her, Sophie said confidently.
Maybe, Joan conceded, and maybe not. I m not as young as I once was. But
you still saved my life, she repeated, and that s a debt I ll never
forget. Stretching out her left hand, she placed it flat against the kitchen
door and applied a gentle pressure. The door clicked open.
And then fell off its hinges.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
noise-canceling earphones pushed into his ears, eyes fixed on the screen of
the MP3 player in his hands. He was trying to create a new playlist: his top
ten favorite sound tracks.
one only
He stopped at the bottom step and automatically straightened a picture that
was hanging crooked on the wall. He took another step and realized that a
framed gold disc was also slightly askew. Looking down the corridor, he
suddenly noticed that all the pictures were at odd angles. Frowning, he
pulled out his earphones
And heard Josh call Scatty s name
And heard the clatter of metal
And realized that the air stank of vanilla and lavender
Saint-Germain raced down the stairs to the next floor. He found the Alchemyst
slumped, exhausted, in the door to his room, and slowed, but Nicholas waved
him on. Quickly, he whispered. Saint-Germain darted past him and continued
down the corridor and on to the stairs .
The hallway was in ruins.
The remnants of the hall door hung off its hinges. All that remained of the
antique crystal chandelier was a single buzzing lightbulb. Wallpaper hung in
huge curling strips, revealing the cracked plaster beneath. Banisters were
chopped through, tiles scored and chipped.
And there was a solid lump of ice sitting squarely in the center of the hall.
Saint-Germain approached it cautiously and ran his fingers down the smooth
surface. It was so cold his flesh stuck to it. He could make out two
white-clad figures entwined within the block, faces frozen in ugly snarls;
their startling blue eyes followed him.
Wood snapped in the kitchen and he turned and darted toward it, gloves of
solid blue-white flame growing on his hands.
And if Saint-Germain thought that the damage to the hallway was bad, nothing
prepared him for the devastation in the kitchen.
The entire side of the house was missing.
Sophie and Joan stood in the midst of the ruin. His wife was holding the
