Spellbound (the Spellbound Series Book 1) by Rene Lanausse

Author:Rene Lanausse [Lanausse, Rene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

What seems like an eternity passes before we actually reach what Jasira correctly assumed to be land. Judging by the sun, it’s just after noon when we slow to a stop alongside a deserted dock at the bottom of a cliff. The jagged rocks splintering from the cliff face and the utter lack of vegetation give the place a foreboding atmosphere, but it’s still land, so I’m not complaining. As we come to a stop, the ship’s sails are pulled down by some invisible force, and a gangplank slides out of the starboard side, landing with a clatter on the deck. Alyssa is the first one off the ship; she all but runs ashore, and I get the feeling that she’s sorely tempted to kiss the ground. I’m still a little wobbly from using the majority of my energy, but I walk down after her with the others, and once we’re all on the deck, the gangplank retracts into the hole it sprang from.

“Stand back,” demands an unfamiliar voice, and I look up to notice a tall, stern looking woman materializing in front of us in much the same way Freyr did earlier. We take a few steps away from the ship as instructed, and the woman waves her hand once. Nothing happens for a few seconds, and then, right before our eyes, the ship folds in half along the metal ridge going down the middle, with a series of loud groans and creaks. It folds in upon itself several more times, presumably along smaller metal perforations, until the entire ship is the size of a sugar cube, and the tiny square flies up into the air, and lands in the strange woman’s outstretched hand. The stranger then turns her back to us and walks away, calling over her shoulder, “Follow me.”

“Hey, lady, we need that ship back,” Jasira says as we fall into step behind the woman. After a moment, she adds, “It’s sort of not ours, and I don’t want to get that guy angry, especially if he’s a Norse god, like I think he is…”

The woman merely looks over her shoulder at us, and responds, “Worry not. I will see that Skíðblaðnir is returned to its rightful owner.”

I’ve never heard the word “Skíðblaðnir” in my life, but I get the feeling that it’s the unreadable word on the side of the ship. Jasira shrugs, and stares at the ground as we continue following the stranger.

We turn into a narrow tunnel that’s been dug right into the cliffs, and almost immediately, the slowly waning daylight and the sound of waves crashing against the cliff side are swallowed by the solid rock around us. We’re left with nothing but crushing darkness until the woman ahead of us conjures a golden ball of light. I wonder about her… if this place is crawling with gods, like we theorized, then which one is she? It’s nearly impossible to tell by looks alone, and she hasn’t exactly introduced herself. She turns

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