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  “You’ll kill him?” He raised any eyebrow. “Do you even know how to kill him?”

  “No. Not yet,” I admitted. “That’s why I haven’t killed him. But I will.”

  “I don’t even know if he can be killed,” Loki said.

  “Everyone can be killed.”

  “Many, many people have tried,” he said. “And they’ve all failed.”

  “Yes, but none of those people have his blood pumping through their veins,” I said. “I think I’m the only one strong enough to do it.”

  “What if you can’t?” Loki asked. “What if you do all this, and you can’t find a way to stop him?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I will have to find a way. He’s going to keep coming until he has me. I would gladly hand myself over to him if I thought that would be enough, but I’m not sure that it is anymore.”

  Loki stared down at the floor, his golden eyes wide as he thought it through. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but he didn’t look happy.

  “So, will you take me?” I asked.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Princess. I can’t.”

  “Fine.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll find someone who can.”

  “Who?” Loki asked. “Who else would possibly take you?”

  “I’ll find the way on my own,” I said.

  Tove and a few other trackers probably knew how to get to the Vittra palace, but they didn’t know the intricacies of it like Loki did. But if I had to, I could take a map from the War Room.

  I turned to reach for the door handle, but Loki stopped me before I could. He grabbed my wrist and stood right in front of me.

  “You can’t go by yourself,” he said.

  “Yes, I can.” I tried to pull my wrist from his grip. “Let go of me.”

  “No, Wendy, I won’t let you do this,” Loki said.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “I’m much stronger than you.”

  I tried to shove him out of my way, but it was like pushing on concrete. He pressed me back against his bedroom wall and put an arm on either side of me. His body didn’t touch me, but it was so close I couldn’t move away.

  “You may be physically stronger than me, but I can have you on the floor writhing in pain in minutes. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

  “You don’t have to,” Loki said emphatically. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do. I will do whatever it takes to save lives,” I said. “I have to do this. If you can’t, that’s fine. But get out of my way.”

  He bit his lip and shook his head, but he didn’t move away from me.

  “It’s the middle of the night, and you want to run away with me,” Loki said. “What will you tell your husband?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Loki raised an eyebrow. “The Princess goes missing without any word? That would be total pandemonium.”

  “I’ll have Duncan tell them in the morning where I’ve gone,” I said. “That’ll buy us a few hours to get there before somebody comes after us.”

  “If the King doesn’t let you leave, he’ll kill the rescue party that they send,” Loki pointed out. “That would be Finn, Tove, Duncan, maybe even Willa. You’re willing to risk them on this?”

  “This might be my only chance to save them,” I said thickly.

  “I can’t talk you out of this?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine.

  “No.”

  He swallowed and brushed back a hair from my forehead. His hand lingered on my face, and I let it. His eyes were strangely sad, and I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I didn’t want to speak.

  “I want you to remember this,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You want me to kiss you.”

  “I don’t,” I lied.

  “You do. And I want you to remember that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” Without further explanation, he turned away from me. “If you want to do this, hurry and put some clothes on. You don’t want to see the King in your pajamas.”

  12. Rendezvous

  Loki liked alternative country, and the satellite radio in the Cadillac had been playing Neil Young, Ryan Adams, the Raconteurs, and Bob Dylan since we left Förening. He sang along with it sometimes, in an off key-way that was strangely endearing.

  It was still dark out, and snow was falling around us, but Loki didn’t seem to mind. The car slid in a few places, but he always corrected it. I’d put my makeup on in the car, and he’d managed to keep it steady enough so I didn’t poke myself in the eye with liner.

  Loki had teased me about the makeup and my choice of clothing. It was a long, dark violet gown, covered in lace and diamonds with a black velvet cloak over it. I’d chosen it because I knew reverence would go a long way with Oren.

  After they’d kidnapped me, Sara wouldn’t let me see him without wearing a gown. Respect was important to him, and making sure I looked nice when I saw him would show him that.

  I’d actually been lucky that I’d been able to find something this nice to wear. Most of my clothes had been moved from my old room into the Queen’s chambers that I shared with Tove, but some had been left behind. I’d gone to my old room to get dressed because I didn’t want to see Tove and tell him what I was doing.

  After I had changed, I went to Duncan’s room. He’d freaked out when I told him what my plans were, and I knew he’d run to tell Tove as soon as I’d gone, if he didn’t before I left. I’d used persuasion to get him to hold off until after eight a.m. That way we’d be almost to the Vittra before anybody found out.

  Since I was the Princess, I had access to everything. I’d gone to the garage and taken the keys to a black Cadillac. We’d left Förening without anybody else seeing us, except for the guard at the gates. I used persuasion on him to keep him from alerting anyone, and we were on the road.

  “You can sleep,” Loki said as I stared out the window at the snow falling around us. “I will get us there.”

  “I know, but I’m fine.” Even though I hadn’t really slept last night, I wasn’t tired. My nerves had me on edge.

  “We can always turn back,” he reminded me, not for the first time.

  “I know.”

  “I thought I would offer,” he said, sounding disappointed. He sat in silence for a minute before singing along to the radio.

  “Your father was Trylle, wasn’t he?” I asked, cutting off his singing.

  “My father was born in Förening,” Loki answered carefully. “But he was more closely related to a snake than Trylle or Vittra.”

  “You’re being metaphorical, right?” I asked. “Your father wasn’t literally a reptile?”

  “No,” Loki laughed a little. “He wasn’t an actual snake.”

  “How did he end up with the Vittra?” I asked. “Did he leave for your mom?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “He was the Chancellor in Förening, and he met your father when Oren came around courting your grandparents for Elora’s hand in marriage.”

  “I didn’t realize your father was a high-ranking official,” I said.

  “That he was,” Loki nodded. “In arranging the marriage, my father had to work with Oren a lot, and Oren’s lust for power appealed to him. Evil attracts evil, apparently.”

  “So he left to join the Vittra?” I asked.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “The plan at the time was to unite the kingdoms. Oren would rule both of them, once your mother was Queen. This was before she’d even come back to Förening, but they had already begun working on it. As Chancellor, my father was sent as an ambassador for the Trylle to the Vittra kingdom. That’s how he met my mother.”

  “I thought you said he didn’t leave for her,” I said.

  “He didn’t. She was a means to an end. He married her so he’d have a reason to leave, not the other way around,” Loki said.

  “So he didn’t love her?” I a
sked.

  “No, he couldn’t stand her,” he said. “She was beautiful.” He paused, thinking of her. “But I don’t think he even cared. She was a powerful Marksinna. My father wanted power, and she had it.

  “For a time, he was both the Trylle Chancellor and a Vittra Prince,” he went on. “I’m not technically a Prince, and neither was he, but since we have the title as the highest-ranking Markis, they refer to us that way.”

  “Your father committed treason, didn’t he?” I asked.

  “Do you know?” Loki glanced over at me. “Did they tell you what my father did?”

  “Elora said that your father told Oren where my grandmother and mother were hiding,” I said. “Because of that, Oren found them and killed my grandmother.”

  “He did,” Loki said. “He did more than that, actually. He tried to tell Oren where you were, but he was never able to find out.

  “And because he did that, he became Oren’s right-hand man,” Loki continued with a bitter smile. “He got everything he ever wanted, and you think that would make him happy, but no.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “When I was nine, Oren married Sara, and my father was furious,” Loki said. “There was a chance they might produce a healthy child, and my father didn’t want that. Without a child, I was the only viable heir to the throne.”

  “But Sara can’t have kids?” I asked.

  “We didn’t know that at the time,” Loki explained. “She has some Trylle blood in her, two generations back, and that’s how she has the ability to heal. But the Vittra blood must have thinned out the Trylle in her too much, because she’s been unable to have kids.”

  “But when she married Oren, your dad thought they might have a child?” I asked.

  “Right,” he nodded. “My father wanted nothing more than for me to be King. It didn’t matter that I had no urge to be King, or that Oren might live forever and I would never be King anyway.”

  “Why did he want you to be King so badly?” I asked.

  “He wanted power, more power,” Loki said. “He thought if I became King, we could rule the world or something. He never got specific about his plans, but he just wanted more.”

  “So what happened?” I asked. “I heard he tried to defect back to Förening.”

  “Yes, that was after everything went to hell,” Loki said. “My father came up with some plan to kill Sara. I don’t know exactly what it was, but I think he wanted to poison her. My mother found out about it, and she was…” He stopped and shook his head.

  “My mother was kind,” Loki went on. “I’d been betrothed to Sara, so she’d become like a member of our family. My mother invited her for supper and treated her as a daughter. Even after Sara married Oren, my mother remained close to her.”

  “And your father was going to kill her?” I asked.

  “Yes, but my mother wouldn’t let him.” He chewed the inside of his cheek and stared straight ahead at the snow coming down. “So he killed her.”

  “What?” I asked, thinking I’d misunderstood. “Sara’s alive.”

  “No, my father killed my mother,” Loki said flatly. “He hit her in the head with a metal vase, over and over. I was hiding in the closet, and I saw the whole thing.”

  “Oh my god,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  “The King found out, and he didn’t really care that my father had murdered someone,” he said. “But then I told the King why my father killed her, about his plan to assassinate Sara.

  “My father tried to make it back to the Trylle,” Loki continued. “He offered Elora trade secrets, anything she’d want to know. I’ve been told that she accepted, but he never made it there. Oren found him and executed him.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

  “I’m not,” Loki said. “But I am lucky that the King didn’t kill me too. Sara took pity on me, and I moved into the palace with them.”

  “The King and Queen raised you,” I said.

  “They did,” he nodded. “Sara more so. The King’s never been that fond of me, although I don’t think he’s ever been that fond of anyone.”

  Silence settled over us, and Loki seemed morose. Bringing up the death of his mother would have that effect.

  What happened to him was horrible, not that I had a great childhood myself. I thought back to when he’d arrived in Förening, and I put my hand on the scar on his chest. I’d felt like he was a kindred spirit, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how alike we really were.

  We both had a parent who hated us, and we were left orphaned at a young age. His father wanted him to be King, even though he didn’t want it, and my mother wanted me to be Queen, even though I didn’t want it. And we both shared a mixed bloodline of Trylle and Vittra.

  “Why aren’t you like me?” I asked when I thought of it.

  “Pardon?”

  “Why aren’t you as powerful as me?” I asked. “We’re both Trylle and Vittra.”

  “Well, for one thing, you’re the product of the most powerful Trylle and the most powerful Vittra,” Loki said. “I’m the product of a very powerful Vittra and a fairly weak Trylle. My father was a low-ranking Markis. He had hardly anything. I did get his ability to render people unconscious, though, but mine is much stronger than his ever was.”

  “But you have more physical strength than I do,” I pointed out.

  “Your father isn’t physically that strong,” Loki said. “Don’t get me wrong, he is very strong, especially by Trylle standards. But mostly he’s just… immortal.”

  “Just immortal,” I said. “That’s good. That’ll making killing him so much easier.”

  “We can turn back,” Loki offered again.

  “No, we can’t.” I shook my head.

  The car hit a patch of ice and jerked to the side. Loki reached out, putting his hand on my arm to make sure I was safe, before straightening out the car.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, keeping his hand on my arm.

  “It’s okay.”

  His hand felt warm on my bare skin, and I moved my arm so I could take his hand in mine. I don’t know why I did it exactly, but I felt better. It helped quiet my nerves and ease the tightening of my stomach.

  I stared out the window, almost embarrassed to look over at him, but he said nothing about it. He just held my hand, and eventually, he started singing along with the radio again.

  The snow had lessened by the time we reached the Vittra palace. It looked more like an old castle. I hadn’t really had a chance to look at it the last time I was here. The brick towers and spirals loomed against the overcast sky. Tall trees without any leaves filled the surrounding forest, and I almost expected there to be a moat to cross.

  Loki pulled up in front of the massive wooden doors and turned off the car. I gaped at it and tried not to let my nerves get the best of me. I could do this.

  “How do I find him?” I asked. “Where’s the King?”

  “I’ll show you.” Loki opened his car door.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he got out.

  “Taking you inside,” he said and slammed the door shut.

  “You can’t go in there,” I said once I’d climbed out of the car. “The King could do something to you.”

  “What kind of tour guide would I be if I didn’t show you all the sights myself?” he grinned at me, but it was weak.

  “Loki, be serious.” I wouldn’t walk with him up the path so he turned back to face me. “The King will throw you in the dungeon again.”

  “Maybe,” Loki agreed. “But I don’t think he will if you succeed in making a deal with him, and we’re both counting on you to make a deal.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you going in there,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like you going in there either,” he shrugged. “So we’re even.”

  Reluctantly, I nodded. I didn’t want to put him in danger, but he had a point. If Oren agreed with me, which is what
I was counting on, I could get amnesty for Loki thrown in along with it. He would probably plan on recanting once I became Queen, but we wouldn’t make it that long.

  Loki walked beside me up the pathway to the doors. I tried to open one, but it wouldn’t budge. Loki laughed a little and reached around me. He pulled it open like it was nothing, and then we stepped inside the Vittra palace.

  13. The Truth

  I’d forgotten how cave-like it was inside the King’s chambers. The room was windowless, and the walls were dark mahogany. The ceilings were high, and candelabras cast a pale glow over us.

  We sat in elegant red chairs, the only furniture in the room aside from a bookcase and large desk. Loki, Sara, and I sat, saying nothing, and waited for the King. Loki chewed his thumbnail, and his leg bounced nervously. Sara had her hands in her lap, and she stared off with a blank expression on her face.

  As soon as we’d come inside the castle, Sara’s little Pomeranian had charged at us, barking. He growled at me, but he was thrilled to see Loki and peppered him with kisses. Sara came right after, responding to the sound of his barking.

  When she saw us, she blanched. She only stopped and stared, and Loki asked if she was happy to see him. Instead of answering him, she sent a nearby hobgoblin to get the King, and she led us to his chambers to wait for him.

  She handed the dog off to Ludlow, one of the hobgoblins, and motioned for us to sit down. We waited in silence for what felt like a long time but may have only been minutes.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Sara said finally.

  “I know that,” Loki said.

  “You shouldn’t have brought her,” Sara said.

  “I know that,” he repeated.

  “Why did you come back?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Loki said, growing irritated.

  “That you don’t know?” Sara snorted. “He’s going to kill you.”

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  “I won’t let him,” I said firmly, and Loki turned to look at me.

  “Forgive me, Princess, but you are so naïve,” Sara said.

  “I have a plan,” I said, sounding more convincing than I felt. “I will make it work.”