Perfekt Balance (The Ære Saga Book 3) (25 page)

That lapse of judgment was going to get us
all killed.

“Let me try to reach her.” I closed my eyes
and reached out to Brynn’s spirit.

Brynn
, I pressed words at her.
Brynn!

After a
long pause, her spirit shook itself from the anger frenzy. With a
tremendous sigh of relief, I registered its panicked reply.
What?

You’ve got to calm down. Forse needs you to clear Tosk so
he can use the space gun
.

Nanomolecular particle accelerator
, Brynn’s spirit corrected.

Right. We really need you to step down.
Like, right now.

Brynn’s spirit pulled back with a nod, and
she drew a long breath. Either she was assessing the situation or
she was trying to rein in the fury that still colored her aura.
Either way, her pause had the desired effect—the anger radiating
from her body dimmed several notches, and while I watched, Brynn
leapt off Tosk’s back and rolled away from his body. “Now!” she
yelled, and Forse took aim. He fired the space gun at Tosk, but
Runa hurtled a beam directly in front of the elf, intercepting the
bullet and diverting the implosion. A nearby tree took the hit,
leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

“
Förbaskat
,” Forse swore, and I echoed the sentiment. Out of the
corner of my eye, I registered a boulder shooting into the sky. It
hit the earth with a crack, just before Tyr’s growl filled the
forest. The swish of his sword was punctuated by an agonized cry
from Hymir. Tyr must have survived the boulder attack, and dealt
Hymir a painful blow.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Tosk’s voice redirected my attention. He and Runa moved together as
Brynn scrambled to her feet. Forse holstered the space gun. If Runa
could intercept the implosions, she could redirect the bullets at
us. The space gun was too dangerous to deploy.

It was all down to the blades.

Forse raised his broadsword, and Brynn pulled
out her rapier. They positioned themselves in front of me, which
gave me a small amount of comfort. Though I couldn’t exactly run
away, I knew Brynn and Forse wouldn’t let anything hurt me. Not so
long as they were still standing.

Oh, gods
. I
closed my eyes and called on my spirit to project calm, rational
energy to theirs. We’d need every possible advantage to get through
this.

When I
opened my eyes, Brynn’s shoulders were pulled down, and her
breathing was even. Forse’s posture showed a similar level of
presence—they were completely in the moment, their minds clear, and
our safety their primary concern. From what I could tell, neither
anger nor revenge clouded either of their judgments. Their physical
and emotional beings existed in
perfekt
balance
.

There was just one more thing to take care
of.

Ignoring the lurch in my gut, I opened my
mind and linked my brain to Runa’s. Dark energy pressed against me
but I shoved it back, sending a different kind of vision at her.
Runa had proven she operated from a place of fear—fear of losing
her father’s approval, fear of being alone and unloved forever. I’d
failed to debilitate her by inflicting physical pain, but if I
filled her with the vision of her worst nightmare come to light,
maybe the emotional pain would be enough to force her into a
different choice. Maybe I could make her choose love over fear.

If I
failed, we were certainly no worse off than we already were.
Here goes nothing.

Loss
. I sent an
image of utter desolation. In my vision, Runa sat in a filthy
kitchen, aged and wrinkled and completely alone. There were no
family photos lining her walls, no cards from friends taped to her
refrigerator, no messages waiting on her phone. She’d lived her
life without ever truly connecting to anyone, and nobody, not even
her father, came to visit her anymore.

She had no one.

Runa’s knees buckled as the vision surged
through her. When it reached her heart, she clutched her chest and
stumbled backward.

Message received.

I released the vision and pressed a different
one into Runa’s mind. Now a wrinkled Runa sat in the same kitchen,
but this time the room was filled with the scent of a freshly
cooked roast, the laughter of grandchildren, and the warmth of
friendship. A large group was gathered together in the small room,
their easy familiarity evoking a warm glow. I pressed love through
Runa’s centers, and she stumbled farther, shock coloring her
features as she glimpsed a reality she’d never let herself
imagine.

This can be your future
, I said.
You just have to choose it. Choose love, Runa. Save
yourself
.

Runa let out a low growl and drew herself to
her full height. She snarled at me as she reclaimed her place
beside Tosk. But something akin to confusion muddied her eyes. Some
small part of her must have registered my plea.

My work was done. Now it was up to my
friends.

A silent
communication passed between them, and before I could blink they’d
launched themselves at our assailants. Brynn leapt at Runa, her
rapier swiping the air as she batted away Runa’s blue beams of
death. My breath caught as I watched the beams change trajectory,
twice narrowly missing Forse and once coming dangerously close to
my legs. But the light that smoldered in front of me was dimmer,
its blue a few shades less brilliant.
Thank Odin!
The crystal was starting to
wear off. If we could restrain Runa now, we might have a chance of
winning this thing.

Think positive, Elsa
. I regrouped. We
would
restrain Runa, and we
would
win this thing. We absolutely would.

We didn’t have an option.

I pushed
energy at Forse, trying to keep him grounded as he battled Tosk.
Not for the first time, I appreciated that Forse’s talents extended
beyond the desk job I was used to seeing him perform. There was
more to doling out justice than reading reports and issuing
sentences. Forse was a lethal fighter
.
A deep sense of peace settled through my
chest as I watched him attack.

We
were
so
winning
this thing.

While Brynn moved away from me, fending off
Runa’s laser blows, the normally even-keeled Forse used both hands
to swing the full weight of his broadsword at Tosk. The dark elf
drew his own sword, a slimmer blade that sliced through the air
with a musical tone. The weapons clashed. Forse had the height
advantage, and he drove his sword down, challenging Tosk’s
resistance with the pent-up rage of a god who’d spent the past two
days hunting down his sociopathic ex-girlfriend. Tosk’s elbows
buckled, and he dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way
before Forse could pin him under his considerable weight. Forse
swore loudly, then leapt to his feet. Tosk jumped up at the same
time, and they paced a slow circle, two angry predators looking for
blood.

“What’s in this for you?” Forse held his
sword at the ready as his feet traced the circumference of their
self-drawn arena.

“I serve my master,” Tosk sneered. “The
better question is, what’s in it for him?”

“Hymir’s your master?” Forse didn’t take his
eyes off the elf.

“Who else?” Tosk spat. He continued his slow
circle.

Forse narrowed his eyes. “Does he really
think he’s going to convince Tyr to become like him?”

“
He
doesn’t have to convince Tyr of anything.” Tosk let out a twisted
laugh that sounded like grating nails. “Tyr
is
like him. He already brought
about the fall of Asgard by keeping Fenrir alive. The wolf will
begin what your
friend
is still too weak to finish. Our prophets have seen
it.”

“There’s only one set of prophets, and the
Norns haven’t mentioned anything about that to me. So you’re going
to leave our boy—and all of his friends—alone.” Forse’s low tone
and menacing stance made it clear his words were more command than
request.

“And if I don’t?” Tosk leaned back on one leg
and held his blade at eye level.

“
Then
we’ve got a problem.” Forse gripped the hilt of his sword and
prepared for the attack. When Tosk pushed off his feet and flew
through the air in a graceful arc, Forse swung. He struck the dark
elf in the ribs, eliciting a sickening crack as his blade broke
through bone. Tosk let out a screech, but rather than debilitate
him, the pain seemed to fuel his anger. He shifted his weapon to
the hand
not
nursing a broken ribcage, and struck at Forse, the blade
singing with each swipe in time to my pounding heart. Forse ducked
as the weapon came at his head, but he raised his shoulder to his
face, and I caught the drop of blood sliding down his right cheek.
He’d been hit just below the eye. And the wound didn’t seem to be
healing.

Tosk broke into a wide grin at the sight of
Forse’s blood. His head whipped back and forth and he drew a deep
breath. The smell of the sticky red liquid appeared to push him
into a trance, and he whirled his sword in front of him in a figure
eight pattern. My throat caught as Forse stumbled, backing away
from the weapon that whirled so fast it had become a silver blur.
But as Forse caught his footing he glanced at me. Determination
filled his features, and with a wink he lowered his broadsword so
it was parallel with the ground. Then he swiped Tosk’s calves in a
lightning-quick move. It was enough to throw the elf off-balance,
and with Forse clearly gaining the upper hand, I felt safe enough
to check on my brother.

I immediately wished I hadn’t.

MY BROTHER AND HIS
biological father couldn’t have been more different, in
virtue or in fighting style. While Hymir raged like a caged bull,
uprooting trees, boulders, and everything else that came across his
tyrannical path, Tyr fought almost reservedly. He’d done this long
enough to understand the importance of assessing an assailant, and
with each unearthed sapling mutilated by Hymir, my brother gained
another grain of knowledge. While Tyr sidestepped the effects of
Hymir’s tirade, I knew he’d be forming a mental checklist. Right
arm severed below the shoulder, so he’d be less quick to defend
against a jab to the right ribcage. Trees uprooted at chest level,
so Hymir wasn’t inclined to bend over; possible back or knee
weakness. Five out of six boulders kicked with the right foot; it
would be easier to throw him off-balance with a blow to the left.
Head tilted slightly to the right; an attack from the left would be
less noticeable. And the aim…Hymir must have been nearsighted. He
only grabbed the foliage directly in front of him, and each time
Tyr stepped beyond a certain point, Hymir narrowed his eyes in
concentration.

When my brother did the same, I knew he was
preparing to strike. And when he lowered his head and charged at
Hymir’s left knee, I knew I’d read his checklist spot on. He drove
his sword through the flesh just below Hymir’s kneecap, then
wrenched his hands to the left, slicing through flesh and tendon
and eliciting a surge of blood. The thick liquid quickly covered
Hymir’s lower leg, and his knee gave way under his weight. He
shifted to his right, but not before Tyr delivered a second blow to
his thigh. Hymir howled. His left leg was all but useless, and he
was down an arm. How much more would he really be able to
endure?

Tyr pulled back, watching as Hymir steadied
himself on one leg. He was careful to stay just out of range, so
when Hymir whipped his head around with narrowed eyes, searching
for the god he sought to destroy, Tyr was nothing more than a blond
blur.

“
Are you
too scared to face me?” Hymir taunted. Yellowed teeth peeked from
between lips so dry they looked like they’d been dusted with baby
powder. It was an unnaturally terrifying smile, and I
shivered.
Poor Tyr
. Thank gods our parents had adopted him. I couldn’t
imagine growing up with a father like that.

Tyr kept himself just out of Hymir’s line of
vision, but I could see the calculations in his eyes. He was
determining the optimal strike time. And because my brother hadn’t
lost a battle since taking his title, I knew he’d win this one,
too.

I flexed my toes experimentally, and the tiny
movement confirmed that my body was forcing the poison out again.
But it still had a firm grip on my mobility, and even the slight
motion sent a searing wave of pain through my leg. I wouldn’t be
going anywhere any time soon. A quick glance at Forse confirmed
that he still had the upper hand, so I shifted my attention to
Brynn.

Oh gods.

Brynn was in trouble. Runa had her pinned to
the ground, and although Brynn struggled beneath Runa’s muscular
form, the giant-daughter stabbed her with a feather from one of the
drones. The venom quickly penetrated Brynn’s bloodstream,
immobilizing her and giving Runa the upper hand. While Brynn lay
helpless, Runa ripped Brynn’s dagger out of its holster. As she
raised it over Brynn’s heart, my spirit let out a wail.

Stop!
I shouted
at Runa’s spirit.
You can’t do this!

A dim light flickered inside Runa, but she
continued to position the dagger for optimal damage.

I said stop
. The
command rang from my mind. The light flickered again, and Runa
seemed to hesitate. That had to be a good sign. I pressed
on.
Don’t do
this. You still have a choice—you
always
have a choice. You may have seen nothing but
darkness in your existence, but my friend, Mia, recently reminded
my brother about the power of faith. Her pastor preached that
through agency and grace, we aren’t destined to be what we observe.
We can become what we believe. And I’m inclined to trust those
words.