Page 175 of Master of Storms
Horses surged out of the trees.
The lead rider reined his horse in hard, his smile fading. He dragged his helmet from his head, revealing an extraordinarily handsome face carved of chiseled lines. Half of his head was shaved, a shock of silvery blond hair spilling over his right temple and down past his shoulder like a cloak of silk.
And then she started assimilating the rest of his features. Skin the color of warmed honey. Sharp points to the tips of his ears, which were embellished with little gold caps. Someone had painted little gold dots across his brow, with a straight line bisecting his lower lip. Some form of ring pierced his nose, with several small chains running across his cheek and into his hair.Not human,it all said.
But the biggest shock occurred when she met his eyes.
One of them was blue. The other green.
She had never seen those eyes outside of a mirror. Or no… Tyndyr had them too.
What did that mean?
“Dja la alla llang?” he asked.
The rest of his warriors circled the pair of them, light gleaming on their burnished armor. Freyja held her hands out, calling her magic to life. It felt like drawing breath for the first time in her life. The land came alive beneath her feet. Power gushed into her like a dam had burst. “Stay back!”
The leader’s eyes flared slightly wide. “Ah, you are from Midgard,” he said in a halting manner. “Who are you?”
Freyja stared at him with her hands by her sides and lightning dancing from her fingertips. A single move and she was going to fry him. “I am Freyja of theZinicourt.”
“Adrekiqueen,” laughed one of the elves in considerably better Norse. “Let’s string her up and listen to her scream.”
But the lead rider wasn’t laughing. He swung down from his horse and strode toward her, tugging his gloves from his hands.
Freyja swallowed hard, even as she summoned every last vestige of power. It swelled through her like a storm brewing. Too much to hold. So much that when she looked in shock at her hands, she found them glowing.
What was this place? Why did it affect her magic so strongly?
Laughter choked off. Every single guard fell quiet.
“Whoareyou?” the leader demanded, and this time there was menace in his voice as he grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “And I’ll have the truth now.”
“It is the truth!” She shoved at his chest, feeling electricity shock through her palms. He staggered backward and nearly landed on his backside in the snow, though she hadn’t physically pushed himthathard. “I am Freyja Helgasdottir of theZiniclan. I am….” The words choked a little on her tongue, for what cause did a simple farmer’s daughter have to speak them? “I am the queen of theZiniclan by right of marriage, and if you dare lay your hands on me again, my mate will tear you limb from limb.”
“He won’t have a chance,” leered one of the guards.
The stranger cut him off with a backward wave, but he stared at her face. “Helgasdottir? Helga?”
The way he said the word was strange.
Elega….
A little frisson of unease settled over her heart like the first layer of frost on the ground. People did not react to her mother’s name like that. And it was a common name in her country. Nothing that should have caught his attention.
It was too late to prevaricate. “Y-yes.”
They stared at each other.
“That silky rotten liar,” he whispered. “Thiswas what she was hiding….”
The shock of it began to overwhelm. Freyja tried to hold herself together the best way she knew how: with anger. “Who areyou?”
A horse started toward her, its bearer wearing an ugly scowl. “How dare you address our prince like that you worthless—”
“Silence, Elendil.” The prince never took his eyes off her. “Your mother…. She was tall and blonde, with the same eyes as you?”
Tall and blonde, yes, but…. “No, her eyes were both blue. So blue they looked like an alpine lake.”
