Wrenn pulled Ed close. “Hold on,” she said, just as an elf named Bjorn hit her full force with the electrical power of the sky.
Chapter 21
The elves had run Ed’s family through a gauntlet of magical approximations the moment they’d set foot in Alfheim, so he knew what it meant to be inside magic. “Expect spells to feel this way” with fae, and “that way” with kami, they said. These spirits will feel slighted “if you do this” and those spirits “if you do that.” Mostly, don’t bother the magic and it won’t bother you.
Hold still and let it spin out. Concentrate on how it’s changing the world around you. Respond to the changes, not the magic itself.
Except it never worked that way in Alfheim. Or Texas. Or anywhere. Mostly because the magic wasn’t going to leave you alone long enough for you to get your bearings.
Bjorn called down the power of Thor to do whatever it was Wrenn had asked. He hit them with energy so strong it changed the cold, clean scent of winter air to the acrid ozone smell of a terrifying electrical storm. But this place called the Heartway? It burned like they’d actually been hit by a real bolt of lightning.
No, like Ed stood inside of a bolt of lightning.
“You need to stay in physical contact with me until we catch a gate,” Wrenn said.
There was still breathable atmosphere here, even with the ozone and the flat white—or colorless—nothingness around them. He heard her words and wasn’t gasping for air. “Okay.”
There was nothing here. Nothing he perceived, at least. “You said this place is like a railway,” he said. As far as he could tell, the Heartway was empty, though up and down still counted, and left and right. No rail lines or trains—though he had a strong sense that there were lines here.
“It is,” she said. “Except we’re not in a station.”
He lowered his shotgun and stepped in front of her. She was taller. She could see around him, and it would be better overall if they both saw whatever was coming at the same time.
“I’m not seeing anything other than…” How was he supposed to describe it? “There’s ground here. I’m pretty sure I see ground. But I’m not really registering the ground. Does that make sense?”
“Rail lines need to travel through territory,” she said. “This place is the equivalent to magical open country. A no-man’s-land of sorts. It’s between realms. Inside the veils.”
“Are we between The Land of the Living and The Land of the Dead?” Because Frank had talked about moving between The Lands of the Living and the Dead.
Ed being dead would not help anyone.
“No,” Wrenn said. “The places inside the veils are… primordial, I guess. That’s why there’s nothing here. Nothing’s been built.”
Behind him, Wrenn reached into her jacket to pull out her phone. “I need to figure out where we are in the system.” A few swipes and she held out the phone as if looking for a connection. “Come on.”
She expected service. Inside a primordial magical place.
Reflexively, Ed pulled out his own phone.
No bars on his. “Yours works?”
Hers trilled. “The fae have been teching-up these past fifteen years or so.”
“What carrier is working with magicals?” This was all too weird.
“It’s the King’s system. The Queen calls it TwinkleBell.” She twisted it around. “There.” Several apps unfolded like little dancing pixies landing on her screen. One in particular lit up. “We aren’t anywhere near a stop but the map says there are trains nearby. The problem is Texas is a big place.”
“But you can still hear the sword, correct?”
She tilted her head. “Not in here.” Her lip twitched.
So they were blind. Unless…
Ed held out his phone. “I can see the kids’ phones.” Unless that kelpie turned them off. “The van’s got a GPS tracer on it.” But his phone didn’t have service.
“Heh,” she said, and touched her phone to his.
Every single app on his phone transferred to hers, and probably his passwords, too. “You better not tell the elves fae magic can do that.”
“I’ll wipe it off my phone when this is over.” She tapped at his tracker app.
“You do that,” he said. “The moment we get back to Alfheim.” With his kids. Because they’d be returning with the kids or they wouldn’t be returning at all.
Wrenn tucked away her phone. “Put that away and prepare yourself,” she said.
Ed tucked his phone back into his pocket and readied his shotgun.
“Step with me.” Wrenn moved him about six strides to the left. “This is going to hurt.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t hold your—”
Something hit him square in the chest. And gut. And head. He fell and—
He landed on his back and his head bounced off a rough wooden floor. His lungs sucked in heavy, wet, electricity-filled air. Raindrops hit his face even though he was inside, blinking through the blue-white glare of this place.
He wasn’t moving. The jars lining the walls rattled but not from travel on any train tracks. They rattled because of the electrical power roaring off the tall metal rod sticking through the roof.
Frank came to the elves because the power of Thor brought him back to life, he thought. But he was pretty sure it wasn’t that simple, and that he shouldn’t care anyway, and that he had a task in this moment that had nothing to do with Frank Victorsson.
Ed was here for his kids.
He flexed to sit but a huge hand, fingers steepled and spread out, touched his chest as if to cage his heart.
A face appeared from the glare. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
A bolt scar on the side of his face. Deep maroon, fire-filled eyes. Fangs.
Frank’s brother stared down at Ed as if he was a beer and a bag of chips.
Ed swung the shotgun around, but
