Runespell
Fantasy Short Story
Free Read
February 14, 2008

In most fairy tales, the prince rescues the princess. It’s not often she gets to return the favor.
Mai Westenra is pulled into a centuries old quest for vengeance and magic, never realizing that she’ll find love in the midst of danger.
Artane has waited lifetimes to be rid of his curse. Resigned to his immortal half-life, one selfless act of humanity can redeem him. Or kill him.
Together, Mai and Artane must work against time and magic to work the runespell that will save their lives and give them a chance at love that lasts.

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The water was freezing cold, weighing down her body, turning her muscles to ice, her blood to slush. And so dark. The headlights of her car were invisible now, broken perhaps, or just too deep for her to see.

She didn’t know for what, she was just sorry. Guilt for things unsaid, deeds unforgiven, obstacles unconquered.

A final rush of pain stiffened her limbs, and she fought against it, arching her neck, staring up as the last glimmer of moonlight on the surface was blocked by a large shape.

Something, a hand, reached out to her and she took it, her arm floating up as she sank further into the cold darkness.

The hand was warm, and soft, and huge. It tugged her toward itself, also warm and soft and huge. And then she was gone.

She wasn’t breathing. He lifted a hand to bang on her chest, shock air back into her lungs, and realized what he was. As the bear, the blow meant to give her life would likely kill her. He had to change first.

The magic was painful. Part of the curse. He knew and accepted the pain, let it wash through him until he huddled, as cold as the woman before him, shuddering. He leaned over her, tilted her neck back, pinched her nose, opened her mouth and gave her his breath. Over and over, he breathed for her. Over and over, he pumped the heels of his hands between her breasts. He began to despair. His sacrifice, his efforts had been for nothing.

Until she breathed. Choked, sputtered, murky water gushed from her mouth and her nose and he turned her to her side, helping her rid herself of the river.

Her eyelids fluttered up and he couldn’t move away, couldn’t hide himself, found himself not wanting to hide from her. Her lips were pale blue and wet, but they lifted at him. For him. She smiled and whispered. He bent closer to hear her words.

“Thank you.” And her eyelids fell again.

No matter. She breathed. She lived.

He put his arms under her and lifted. Unlike the fairy tales, she was not weightless as down, but a moderately sized woman. Had he been at his full strength, had he been warm and dry at least, he could have carried her back to his home with little effort. But he had spent his energy in the river, and more in the transformation. So he gave the last of his human fortitude in a final change.

Now she felt light to him, as light as a kitten in the arms of a giant. He settled her on his back, careful to balance her so she would not slip and injure herself again. Then he turned his face toward the north and began his journey.

Before he left, he looked again toward the river, toward the bridge that spanned it. He watched the men who had chased her car over the edge. They did not see him.

*~*

Mai opened her eyes to darkness so complete she thought she must be dead. She certainly hurt enough. She tried to frown, but the movement sent sharp pain through her lips. Then she gasped from the pain and her lips ripped open, layering in more hurt.

She was burning up, and her mouth tasted as if it was filled with grave dust and blood.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “I’m in hell.”

“Not quite.” The voice next to her made her jump. Well, it would have been a jump if she was capable of that much movement. As she was, however, it was more like a full-body twitch.

“Stay still,” the voice said. “You’ve been injured.”

That explained a lot of things. She thought she must be in shock because her voice sounded far away when she asked, “Am I blind?”

“No. It’s dark in here.” The voice hesitated. “It’s for the best.”

Without warning, numbness collapsed into terror. She choked on a breath of fear and fire exploded in her chest and throat. Strong arms, sleek with fur, propped her up as she struggled for air. She coughed and couldn’t stop, each breath tearing through her chest like the thorns of a bramble. Mai clutched at him, afraid of what she held, afraid of letting go, until she could finally breathe again.

“You’re fine. You’re not seriously hurt. Don’t be afraid.”

She gulped, nodding convulsively while tears flooded down her face. A soft cloth fluttered by her cheek and she took it, wiping away the worst of the fear.

“Where am I? What happened?” Her voice was a shredded whisper.

“Don’t you remember?” He sat so close she felt his breath, clean and earthy. The sound of his voice reverberated through her body like a heavy bass thrum, synchronizing the beat of her heart to his.

Mai closed her eyes to block out the darkness of her surroundings and search through the shadows in her memory. She remembered.

“My car. They ran me off the bridge.” She had a moment’s regret for her car. She’d finally gotten the seat just where she liked it. But more important issues intruded. “Eda’s runestone. Where is it?” She drew away from the warmth he provided to pat at her pockets. Only she had no pockets. She was nude. She sucked in another breath, but didn’t choke on it this time.

“You were soaked. I had to take your clothes off before you froze to death.”

She nodded again and felt foolish. “I can’t… It’s so dark in here.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t light a fire until morning.”

That was cryptic, but other thoughts fought for preeminence. Mai stroked her hand down his arm, sifting her fingers though heavy fur. “Your coat must be very warm.”

“You’ve no idea. There’s water on the stand to your right.”

She fumbled to the side until she felt the cold wet metal of a pitcher, and a tumbler beside it. He didn’t offer to help her pour.

She drank, letting the clean liquid wash away the grit of the muddy river in her throat. Then she shivered.

“Back under the blankets,” he ordered, then climbed in next to her, still wearing his fur coat. She supposed it was a good thing that at least one of them was fully clothed. Mai turned to him, resting her cold nose against his back. Her eyes began to flutter closed in the spreading warmth that emanated from him.

She felt, rather than heard his question in her half-awake haze.

“What’s your name?”

“Mai Westenra. What’s yours?”

“Artane.” Mai snuggled closer to the fur. “Go to sleep,” he said.

She was already there.

*~*

Mai. She pronounced it My. He knew what she looked like, despite the darkness. The moon on her face had imprinted her image in his brain. Deep, dark brown eyes, almond shaped, under high-arching brows so light they were nearly invisible. Her face was round and pale even apart from the chill that leeched the color from her skin. Silver blond hair hung in long damp tangles. A child of the Northlands.>

She turned and buried her cheek against his shoulder blade. One hand rested on his flank. Not content to lie against the softness of his fur, however, her fingers stroked and petted lightly before burrowing deep into the under layer that kept him dry.

An age of celibacy rushed back to haunt him. He lived a more than mortal life, half as a bear, half as a man. As light changed to dark by day or by season, so did he change. He had some ability to control it, but it was limited, and so he did not waste his strength in trying to remain human all the time. The bear was strong and agile. And at least he was never cold.

Artane shifted and turned, settling Mai onto his shoulder, careful not to touch her with his claws. Then he simply lay awake, feeling her breathe next to him. A small gift. An immense responsibility.

But now he was tired, too. The transformation exhausted him and they were safe here.

*~*

The bed jerked and bounced, the pillow under her head tingling and sparking like a high voltage outlet. Mai wrenched her eyes open to the sight of faint power arcs flashing around her.

Then she heard the moan.

She turned to see her savior bow his back off the bed as the fur coat he wore melted away in surges of light and pain. He opened his eyes – bright, electric blue – and shut them, turning his face away, fighting against the power that corded his neck muscles and twisted his body in wracking spasms.

“Get away from me,” he gritted between locked teeth.

Mai didn’t wait for a second invitation, but rolled out of bed and huddled on the other side, waiting and watching as a something other than human became a man.

Finally, it was over. The faint gray light of dawn crept over the sill of a small window high on the wall. It touched his face in soft apology for the pain it brought. As the new day painted his high cheekbones and straight nose in brightening sun, his breath calmed in acceptance of the gift.

He was beautiful. He wasn’t real. He couldn’t be. Reality hit her at the same time as the cold air on her bare skin registered.

“What…what are you?”

Artane’s eyes opened. The bleakness within them mirrored the chill without.

“I’m a man.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His naked back was strong, banded with muscle, as he leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. “For now.”

Many things held Mai behind the bed. Fear, embarrassment at her nudity, confusion at what she had witnessed, and a basic stubbornness about that which could be and that which could not.

He stood and her modesty warred with fascination. Smooth skin curved over tight flanks, visible for just a moment before he slipped on the robe that lay at the foot of the bed. She blushed and looked away.

“You should get back in bed before you get chilled again.” His voice sounded different. Lighter, less gravelly, but far more grave. And he wouldn’t look at her.

Mai crawled back under the flannel covered goose down. She hadn’t realized until now how smooth and soft the sheets felt against her skin and she steeled herself against the sensation. There were far more important things to think about as she pulled the covers up to her throat.

He was kneeling in front of a large stone fireplace, clearing the grate and pushing logs into place when she spoke again.

“Artane?”

He stiffened and she wasn’t sure he would respond until his head bowed.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell me what just happened? And what happened to me?” The events of the night were still muddled for her and now, of all times, she needed some clarity.

The tiny flames he lit grew, chasing away shadows in the pale light of day.

“Why don’t you tell me what you remember and I’ll fill in the rest.”

That made sense. Something had to make sense today.

“In the pocket of my jeans is a stone. A runestone, actually. It’s supposed to be part of a magical set of stones that were given to Odin as he hung on Yggdrasil for nine days and nights, learning the wisdom of the world.”

“That’s a myth.”

“Well, yes. Of course it’s a myth. There’s no such thing as…” Mai stuttered to a halt.

Artane finally turned back to her with a bitter smile. “There’s no such thing as magic? We’ll talk about it later. Go on.”

She took a deep breath and tried to reorganize her thoughts. So. This is what a paradigm shift feels like.

“This stone is supposed to be part of that original set. There’s no way it can be. Even if the myth is real, it’s thousands of years old. The likelihood of the runes surviving all that time is miniscule. Microscopic. Statistically speaking, it’s impossible.”

*~*

Mai talked with her hands. The blanket slipped off her shoulders, leaving her pale skin gleaming in the weak sun. And she was a scholar, he decided. She had unconsciously switched to a tone suitable for imparting arcane information to disinterested students, but he was fascinated.

As she spoke, she leaned over the edge of the bed and rooted through the pile of wet clothes on the floor. He hadn’t thought to hang them up last night. He’d been too concerned with getting her warm and dry and safe. She tucked the blanket under her arms, but he caught a tantalizing glimpse of bare ribs as she delved into her pockets.

“But there’s an unusual provenance. Unusual enough for Eda – my colleague, Eda Holmlund – to travel all the way to Norway and back to get this little bit of engraved rock. Aha!”

She straightened, her cheeks red from hanging upside down, strands of fine hair veiling her eyes. In her fingers, she held a chunk of stone with a sideways “V” etched deeply onto the surface.

Kenaz. The symbol of the torch. Transforming fire. Harnessed power.

Artane hadn’t seen the stone in centuries. Not since the day his bride revealed her true self and used the runespell to curse him into this endless half-human existence.

“Don’t touch it!” He batted the thing away from her and it bounced into the shadows by the hearth.

“Hey,” she protested, reaching after her prize. He grabbed her hands and held them to stop her.

“No, Mai. Leave it be. It’s dangerous.”

She frowned at him. “It’s a rock, Artane. How can it be dangerous?”

“Have you forgotten already? Or do you still not believe in magic?” She was so warm, her fingers delicate and small against his palm. Unthinking, he brushed them against his mouth.

An almost soundless gasp escaped her, her breasts swelling high against the blanket, tempting him, teasing him. Artane closed his eyes and pressed her hands to his brow.

“Continue. Tell me how you came to possess the rune.”

“Eda brought it back, but when she returned to the university, she seemed different. Frightened, somehow. And bitter. Angry all the time. I can’t explain it. She also wouldn’t give it to the university for their collection, which was the original agreement. She wanted me to have it.”

His stomach churned. He knew what had happened to her friend in Norway. Huldra had found her. His troll-bride lived.

*~*

Artane broke away from her and Mai watched in confusion as he began to pace the floor in front of her.

“What’s wrong? What does that rune have to do with me getting run off the bridge?”

She remembered it all now. Eda, angry and afraid, pressing the rune on her, forcing her to take it. She would have put it back in her office, but Eda made her promise to keep it with her. On her. Not even in her purse. As soon as Mai pushed the little rock into the front pocket of her jeans, Eda breathed a huge sigh of relief and slumped in her chair.

A huge black SUV had followed her away from campus. She didn’t understand its purpose until too late. A sign flashed past her – “Bridge ices before road.” Her small car slid on a patch of black ice, spun around to face her attackers. She’d bounced off the rails, trailing sparks that threw their faces into demonic relief before that final, fatal blow.

The air bag released, stunning her before her vehicle hit the icy river below. Mai remembered the pain, the darkness.

The hand that saved her.

“They tried to kill me. Why? They didn’t want the rune, they just wanted me dead.”

“I don’t understand, either. I always imagined she would keep the stone with her.”

“You know this rune?” She leaned forward, gathering the duvet around her. Mai was increasingly uncomfortable with staying naked in bed while Artane paced around in a robe. The enforced vulnerability unnerved her, despite the softness of the linen and the warmth of the goose down. “I need to know more, Artane. More about what it means and why it’s worth killing for. But,” she paused until he looked up at her. “Perhaps you could find me something to wear?”

The lines in his brow eased and his bright blue eyes warmed as he made an obviously pleased study of her bare shoulders. “Are you chilled?”

She smiled, enjoying the flirtation. “No, I’m not cold.” Not with the way he looked at her. Not heatedly sexual – that kind of regard always made her uncomfortable – but appreciative.

He nodded. “I’ll get you some clothes. They’ll be too big, but you’ll at least be warm.”

After he left, Mai finally took in her surroundings. The bed on which she reclined was enormous. Made of oak, she saw that figures were carved into the wood. Small and precise, she read the story they told.

A man, a prince by his dress, went into the forest and met a beautiful woman. He took her back to his home and introduced her to his parents. Shortly thereafter, his parents died, but the woman stayed by his side, helping him in his grief. The man became king and a wedding took place.

Mai squinted. She must have lost her glasses to the river because they weren’t in the pile of wet clothes by the bed. There was something wrong with the bride, but she couldn’t quite see it. She reached out to touch the carving and started at Artane’s deep voice.

“It’s a tail.”

He sat down next to her, a pile of clothes in his hands. This close, she could see the lines that spread from the corners of his eyes. He was no longer a young man, though his shaggy dark hair and bright eyes made him look youthful. Worry and care had etched years into the air around him.

“Is this you? This is your story?” She stared at the bed. Not just the bed, though. The wardrobe was covered in similar detail. The very walls were decorated with the stories of his life.

“This is where it began.” His hand touched hers as they traced the lines he had carved. “My bride was not human. She was a troll.”

Mai peered at him, an eyebrow raised. “She doesn’t look like a troll.”

“Not as people understand them now. Not all trolls are monstrous, hulking beasts. For this, I blame Tolkien. Huldra’s people are very beautiful, but for one detail. Some have cloven hooves, some have pointed ears. She had a tail. Like a cow’s tail.”

He rose again and left the clothes on the bed.

“And I was a fool.”

*~*

Artane was disgusted with himself. He did not have so many friends that he could afford to drive them away with the truth of his poor judgment. He waited outside the door for a moment, unsure of his next move. Hating that indecision. Then he left.

He was in the kitchen, just putting the kettle on to boil for tea, when he heard her soft footsteps.

He had heard the water come on for her shower and now her hair was wet and combed straight. The scent of his shampoo reached over the breakfast smells. Her face was scrubbed clean so her cheeks shone with delicate color.

The sleeves of his blue flannel shirt were too long on her and she had rolled them up past her wrists. The tail of it reached halfway to her knees. She had left it unbuttoned over a white t-shirt. The soft gray sweatpants were also rolled up a bit at the ankle, but she was tall enough that they didn’t swamp her.

She looked ridiculous.

She looked…perfect.

Mai sniffed appreciatively and walked up to him, her body swaying elegantly despite the ill-fitting clothes. He turned back to his task and tried not to stiffen when she peered over his shoulder.

“I love pancakes. How do you get them so thin?”

“They’re lefse. There’s tea in the cupboard.”

“It sounds wonderful.” The kettle whistled and they worked together to get the meal on the table. He watched as she ate her way through several of the delicate crepe-like pancakes, rolled with lingonberry jam and cream in the bright kitchen. They spoke of inconsequential things. Favorite foods, good restaurants, milk or lemon in tea. She liked hers white and sweet.

At last, they sat back, replete for the moment. A shadow passed over the large picture window.

“Where are we?” Mai blew across the top of her mug.

While she was in the shower, he had considered how he would answer that question when it arose. Now it seemed natural to tell her the truth. She had seen him change. There could be no secrets between them. “Not far from the bridge. This house is set back in the woods, partly built into a hill. The bedroom we were in overlooks the west bank of the river.”

Artane leaned forward and touched her knee, meeting her eyes. “They won’t find us here. And if they do, we’ll be safe. I promise.”

She nodded, but the light joy of the morning was gone. “They’re looking for me, aren’t they?”

“Yes. They want the rune lost forever. Huldra can never use the stone again, but she wants to make certain no one else can either. Whoever uses it again undoes her magic. And it will kill her.”

*~*

Mai studied the steam rising from her tea for a moment. The weight of the rune stone in her shirt pocket pulled at her collar.

“So let me get this straight. You married a troll – but you didn’t know she was a troll – and she cursed you to be a bear by night, but a man by day.”

“That’s correct.” Artane sat back in his chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. He’d dressed while she showered and the Nordic sweater he wore made his eyes gleam like an Arctic predator’s. Somehow, even in his casual clothes, he looked regal. She smoothed down a wrinkle on her shirt.

“But if anyone uses the runestone to reverse the curse she laid on you, it will kill her.”

“Yes.”

“How did you find out?”

The foot he had propped on his knee came down and he shifted uncomfortably for a moment before he crossed his arms. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he blushed, too.

“Huldra used it to…” He trailed off and she raised a brow.

“To what, Artane?” If she was going to solve this problem, she needed more information.

“To taunt me. Tempt me. She would swing it in front of my cage, telling me that if I…I loved her…she would change me back.” He said ‘love’ as if it was dirty. Mai blinked. Oh. Not love. Sex.

He leaned back, looking away. His profile was a study in chiaroscuro – darkness and light illuminating truth. The shadows cast by the morning sun skimmed over his sharp cheekbones and were lost in his soft beard. His pale eyes glowed in contrast.

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sell myself…sell my soul to her. Even for my humanity.”

“You were in a cage?” Mai was furious now, the stone burning against her breast.

“Not for long.” He smiled and for the first time, she realized the leashed power within him. He was not a man to anger, yet he had taken tender care of her last night.

“But how did you find out she couldn’t use it?”

That predatory smile stayed with him. “She got frustrated with my continued refusal and tried to change me back. As soon as the spell began to work, she began to age. She must have gained twenty years in the space of a few moments. She handed it to her mother, another witch. When she used the spell, Huldra aged even more. I broke out of the cage with one swipe of my paw.”

“I could have killed her then. She was on the floor screaming. She was hardly even human.” He paused. “But then, neither am I.”

Mai reached out to him. She knelt in front of the chair, sheltered by his body, and grabbed his hand. “Never think that. Humanity isn’t about how we look, it’s about how we act. You saved me last night. You brought me back from the edge of death. There is no greater evidence of humanity than that.” She put her hand up to his cheek, learning the warmth of his skin, the weight of the magic around him. “Thank you. Thank you for my life.”

*~*

A beautiful woman knelt at his feet, holding his face, his heart, in her hands. Artane pulled her up and paused with his lips an inch away from hers.

“Thank you for mine.”

For the second time since the kiss that cursed him, he shared life and breath with another. And both times had been with this woman. His woman. Her body yielded its softness to the cradle of his arms, her breasts a warm weight upon his chest, her hair a silken fall over his hands.

Mai’s lips returned passion and questing innocence to him. No inexperienced woman, their kiss slid from simple need to sultry carnality in moments.

Artane wanted to drown in her body, bury himself inside her so deeply that they occupied the same soul. Her cool, slim fingers threaded through his hair. A fire began to burn in his chest, threatening to consume them both until suddenly, Mai pulled back with a yelp.

She shed the shirt she had borrowed and clapped a protective hand over her breast.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something burned me,” she said, picking up the shirt she had discarded. Mai turned it over until she reached her goal. The runestone was literally burning a hole through the pocket.

Magic thickened the air, his witch-bride’s rage more acrid than the stink of singed fabric.

Mai and Artane stood together as the solid oak front door broke into splinters before the marauding feet of Huldra’s henchmen. The same two who had driven Mai over the bridge last night.

Artane pushed her behind him, determined to protect her from the stone trolls Huldra had called to her service. Quick as thought, Mai grabbed up the runestone before moving back to his side.

“Drop it, Mai. Before it hurts you.”

“No,” she answered, her face pale as snow. “If we break the curse now, you can be free.” As she spoke, a spiral of polluted vapor rose from the reeking, smoldering shirt. It formed itself into the figure of his troll wife, but a Huldra he had never seen before.

She was hideous with the rot of centuries upon her. Her pure skin was mottled black and green, her flashing eyes now milky and blind. Her black hair, once her greatest vanity, straggled from her shrunken skull in lank patches, grey and rough. And the tail she had tried so hard to conceal all those years ago lashed around her, the tip clubbed and hardened.

“Give me back my stone,” she rasped. Huldra’s enticing voice had become a nightmare screech and Mai took a faltering step backwards.

Artane faced enemies on both sides. The stone trolls advanced on him and he pushed Mai back toward his den, the cave built into the rock where they had spent the night.

Through the centuries, he had built wards of protection around the small room. Someday, he knew, those magical gates would be needed to keep evil at bay.

Today was that someday.

*~*

Mai gripped the runestone in hands paralyzed by terror. She couldn’t have let go even if she wished to, but she could hardly bear the searing of her skin, the agony of the symbol kenaz burning into her palm.

Transforming fire. Harnessed power. There was magic in her hand, the strength to save them both if only she knew how to use it…to bend it to her will.

They stepped back behind the door of the dark cave, leaving the trolls screaming outside.

“Won’t they break in?” she asked, remembering the awful crash of the front door of his house.

“Not anytime soon. The wards will hold them off for a while.”

Mai looked around the room frantically.

“What do you need?” he asked, but she was too busy searching to answer him directly.

“I know I saw it here somewhere.” She stood on the mattress, tracing the carving on the headboard. “Aha! Found it!”

The runespell unraveled in front of her, as clear as if it was written in her native tongue. She began the chant.

“Hail Odin, the All-Father. Giver of wisdom, let me drink from the well of magic.”

“No!” Artane stopped her. “Do you mean to turn me back?”

“Yes! You said that it would kill her if the magic of the rune was used again.”

“It will kill her, but then we’ll still have to deal with two stone trolls. They have their orders and they won’t stop for anything. Even if Huldra dies, their mission goes on. I can’t fight them as a human, Mai. The bear at least has a chance.”

They were running out of options. She had to let him change one last time before they could break the curse. If he lived through the fight to come.

Mai pressed a kiss to his cold, set lips and stepped back. His eyes overflowed with pain.

“Please don’t watch. It’s…it’s worse if you watch.”

“Artane, I don’t mind. Nothing you can do would frighten me.” The door shook with the pounding of the monsters outside. He nodded and set her back from him.

She knew that the transformation was painful, but this morning, she had seen it through the veil of her own fear. Now she watched in fear for him.

It was horrifying. The sound of bones snapping, the unnatural stretch of human flesh. His skull cracked, flattening, elongating into a snout. Hair burst through his skin as his spine extended with a sickening groan.

The change was over in less than a minute, but it was the most harrowing minute of Mai’s life. Worse than her own death, was watching this death of the man she knew as he became the bear.

Finally, it was done. He picked himself up off the floor and shook, his massive body sucking up the space in front of the huge fireplace.

“Stay here. Where it’s safe.”

She nodded wordlessly. His voice was the same, yet not. Deeper, harsher, more terrifying. He faced the door and at that moment, she ran forward and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in the thick, soft fur.

It was as if the rest of her life had been a dream. Magic was the reality she lived in now – trolls, enchantments and the old gods were come to life.

“Odin keep you, Artane,” she whispered.

“Or we meet in Valhalla, my shield-maiden, my Valkyrie.”

His pale eyes, terrifyingly human in this animal form, focused on the door. Mai stepped back and his hackles rose. He roared, his battle cry penetrating the wards to strike fear into the stone hearts of his enemies, and leapt forward into the fray.

*~*

The pounding of his heart drowned out the silence in his home. The stone trolls were dead. The remnants of their bodies returned to the dull earth from which they were made. Around him lay the dregs of destruction, chunks torn from his home. Artane turned to retrace his steps back to the den where he had left Mai. He staggered, reminding him of the chunks torn from his hide. No matter. He and his Valkyrie had won the day.

But as he neared the den, a small sound froze his blood. A whimper, almost a sob. That one utterance held a world, a universe of despair, of dying expectation, of futile anger.

Huldra’s screech droned on, trampling the last vestige of hope. “See? Listen? There is no sound. He may have defeated my kinsmen, but he is dead. Finally, I can reclaim the stone.”

“No.” Mai’s voice was a thready whisper, clinging to life. “You can’t have it. I don’t believe you.”

“Give me the runestone!” Huldra shrieked her fury and the foundations shook.

The answer was barely audible. “No.”

Artane’s wards were gone. He felt the ragged edges of the protective magic he’d built scrape against his mind as he passed the door. Huldra had blown through his defenses, but it must have cost her.

With his head in the doorway, Artane saw Mai on her knees in the middle of the mattress. The protection there was the strongest he had and it was crumbling rapidly as Huldra muttered words of power and snaked her arms in the air.

Rage, as powerful and terrible as he had felt when he faced the stone trolls, rumbled through him, burning past the pain and giving him strength.

At that moment, Mai raised her eyes to his. Tears rolled out and streamed down her face and Huldra’s chant grew triumphant at the sight of her enemy defeated. “The rune will be mine!”

Through the tears, Mai’s lips quirked up in an exhausted smile.

“Don’t bet on it, troll.” She held the runestone in her palms and began to read the spell, sure and strong. Huldra shrieked in agony as pure magic rolled outward from Mai.

“Hail Odin, the All-Father. Giver of wisdom, let me drink from the well of magic.”

Power blasted into Artane, lifting him from the floor and holding him captive. Kenaz glowed brighter and more fiercely as the form of the bear was wrung from his bones. Screams accompanied the pain, his and Huldra’s. Through it all, Mai’s voice carried him, giving him a strong pillar to which he could anchor his mind and heart, though his body became a living flame.

And then, at the height of the pain, it changed. Became something other than agony. The fire of the runespell encompassed him wholly, then began to die, and a raging bonfire became the friendly warmth of the hearth.

In the death of sound that followed, the flag floor felt cold and rough under his side. He rolled his head around, pressing his face to the cool stone.

“Artane?” Mai’s voice was close to his ear, her breath hot on his cheek, her hands warm on his body.

“Artane, are you all right?” He opened his eyes. Mai. Her hair was disheveled and her face blotchy from crying. She was beautiful. A valiant warrior. His savior.

Words poured from her lips, rushed and fervent as she wept into his neck. Her tears scalded him and he shivered. Slowly, he raised his arms and pulled her to him, making shushing noises into her hair.

“It’s over, Mai. We won. You killed the evil witch and made me a man again. Do you know what that means?”

She sniffled and looked up at him. “What?”

“It means we get to live happily ever after.”