Page 94 of Soul of Shadow
This is it. Her opportunity. With Elias out of commission, Charlie could save the others if she played the situation correctly. She glanced at Lou, who stood a few feet away, staring at the wall, and then at Abigail, who was quivering on the floor, and the Vikings, who were struggling in vain against their bindings. Then she focused on the Fenrir.
This is it.
“I understand why you want to sacrifice us,” said Charlie, rising slowly to her feet and taking a tentative step toward the wolf. He was soenormous. His fur and fangs and flashing red eyes seemed to fill the entire other side of the chamber. “You want protection from the gods. And Surtur can offer you that.”
The Fenrir narrowed his eyes.
She took another small step. “But what if I told you that I could offer you that, too?”
Opening his mouth to reveal his deadly fangs, the wolf let out a barking laugh. “You?” he asked, a huge speck of drool flying from his mouth. “What could a defenseless little human possibly offer me?”
Carefully, Charlie tucked her Valkyrie knife back into one of the pockets on the side of her dress. Then, she reached downthe dress, into the trick pocket that held the leather pouch. The Fenrir growled, lowering his head and baring his fangs at her. She held up her other hand, hoping it would convey to the beast that she meant no harm. His eyes stayed narrow, but as she wrapped her fingers around the pouch and started to pull it out, he didn’t pounce.
Once the pouch was all the way out, she held it up for the Fenrir to see. It dangled from her fingers, brown leather swinging in the air.
The wolf tilted its head. “What is that?”
“Feathers from the cloak of the goddess Freyja.”
“Impossible,” said the Fenrir. “The goddess would not give out her feathers to a mere human.”
“I’ll prove it,” she said. “Watch this.” She slipped two fingers into the pouch and pulled until it opened. Reaching gingerly inside, Charlie felt something light and fuzzy brush her fingertips. Gently she grasped the tip of a feather and pulled it out. It was snow-white with stripes of silver, glimmering in the green light of the cave.
The Fenrir watched her movements warily. His eyes flashed when the feather emerged from the pouch, but he kept all other emotion off his face, unconvinced.
Charlie had no idea how the feathers worked; Sophie handed them over without any further explanation. Was she supposed to wear it? Eat it? Wave it around in circles?
On a whim—and perhaps wanting to make a show out of the whole thing to impress the Fenrir—Charlie puffed out her torso, held up the feather, and then slammed it right into the center of her chest.
It worked. The feather clung to her chest, as if stuck there,and began to glow with silver light. After a few seconds, it dissolved to nothing. As it did, the silver glow rushed out from her chest, spreading across her arms, her legs, her head and neck. It spanned the length of her body, leaving her with a bright silver outline.
“Whoa,” said her brother, who was still hanging upside down from the Fenrir’s paw.
“So, it’s true,” said the Fenrir, stepping closer to Charlie. Hunger burned in his red eyes. “How many more do you have?”
Charlie looked down at the pouch. She stuck a hand in again, rooting around and pretending to count. As she worked, she casually pulled out one feather, then another, as if to clear space and allow her to see them all. She spent another few seconds pretending to finish up her count, then looked up at the Fenrir.
“Ten,” she lied, still holding two of Freyja’s feathers in one hand. “And the Valkyrie has promised that if you agree to help us, she can provide you with an entire bushel of these feathers.”
The hunger burned brighter in the Fenrir’s eyes. “Bring them to me.”
“First, put down my brother.”
The wolf spat on the floor. “Bring them to me, or I’ll slice his throat.”
“Okay, okay.” Charlie stepped cautiously toward him. His eyes were glued to the pouch in her hand. When she drew close enough to the beast, so close that she could smell his putrid breath wafting over her, she lifted the pouch, as if to offer it to him. When she did, the wolf’s arm slackened, dropping Mason closer to the floor.
Charlie pounced.
Before the Fenrir realized what was happening, she leapt upinto the air, sticking one of the two feathers in between her teeth and slapping the other onto her brother’s chest. She didn’t hit him squarely at the center, the way she had with herself, but she had to hope it would be enough.
The Fenrir roared, dropping Mason to the floor. It was as if the feather’s protective magic had burned the wolf’s paw. He growled with anguish, holding out his paw, and Charlie dove across the floor, over to where Abigail still lay, bound by Elias’s shadow cords. Charlie slapped the second feather onto her friend’s chest.
As the third feather dissolved, sending silver light across Abigail’s body, so did the shadow cords. They evaporated under the feather’s protective magic. Abigail gasped, rolling over and leaping to her feet.
Charlie didn’t have time to give feathers to either of the Vikings. She spun around to see the Fenrir leap toward her with a gut-rattling roar. His jaws were stretched wide, teeth flashing in the green light of the cavern, saliva flying in every direction. Charlie plunged her hand into the pocket holding her knife and pulled it out, brandishing it in what would surely be a useless attempt to block him.
But the beast’s attack never came.
