Free Son of Thunder (Heavenly War Series) by S.C. Mitchell Page A

only have to fight our way out.”
    Jord wondered if he was doing the right thing. It would place them all in great danger. The elves would be strong allies, but one hundred was far too small a force to assault the fortress directly. They would have to rely on stealth and luck to get in and out.
    Heimie’s vision revealed dark elves amassing at Utgard Keep. Perhaps there wouldn’t be as many here to deal with as Jord feared. In any case, the dark elves would never leave Nokkurra completely undefended.
    The sky was darkening. It wouldn’t be long now before he found out, one way or another.
    He hoped Meghan would be safe enough with them. He was tempted to leave her here, in the cave, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t go for that—that Megingjörð wouldn’t go for it either. Plus, he felt it would be better to keep her close, so he could look after her. What was it about this mortal that made him so protective of her?
    His mind was assailed by the memory of that kiss—her soft lips on his, her body pressed against him. That moment stirred something inside of him, something raw, untamed. There could never be a relationship of any kind. Only pain and suffering followed, whenever a god walked down that pathway. Yet Jord found his mind constantly considering it.
    It wasn’t logical, and to Jord’s way of thinking, just plain impossible, but deep down his body fought him. Could he really ignore those stirrings inside him?
    Bah, he was not some fertility god, with delusions of his sexual prowess. He was not like Freyr, for crying out loud. He could control his body and suppress the urges that threatened to consume him. He had a mission, and making love to Meghan Larson was not a part of that mission.
    He went to her. “I want you to use the necklace. At all times stay invisible. Stay close to us, but not in the thick of any fighting. If things go bad, get out and come back here. Any of the elves that make it out can get you back to Asgaard.”
    “I’ll be fine.” Her spirit seemed to glow with enthusiasm. “Let’s go find your father.”
    As stealthy as he thought he was, Jord had always been amazed at how quietly the elves of Alfheim could move when they wanted to. Like shadows in the night, Jord led the elves into the fortress city of Nokkurra. The advance scouts would slip ahead and clear out any sentries on guard in the sleeping city.
    They’d been fortunate. The city itself was all but deserted. Most of the dark elf forces must have already been on their way to Utgard Keep. Yet, guards walked the streets, and the stronghold itself could be holding thousands of reserve troops. Nokkurra was still a very dangerous place.
    The main keep now loomed above them, probably twenty stories or more. But they would not be going up. There were almost as many levels below the ground and somewhere down there would be the dungeons. Few survived the dungeons of Nokkurra and those that had were so broken they could never fully describe the layout. Because of this Jord and the elves had very little idea of what they were getting into.
    The dark elves were shorter, stockier and more pale-skinned than their distant cousins, the bright elves. They were called the dark elves not because of their skin tone, but because they chose to live in the darkness, and pursue dark arts and actions. They had a ruthless, military society. Asgaard helped the bright elves in their efforts to contain the dark elves over the millennia, but rarely had they been able to push very deeply into Svartalheim before being repelled.
    Jord caught just a hint of the door sentries as they disappeared into the gloom under the skilled hands of the bright elf warriors. The doorway beckoned now, and inside of the great citadel they crept, gliding silently into the heart of the enemy fortress. Down they went, whenever a stairway presented itself, searching the vast structure for the dungeon.
    The lower levels of Nokkurra were serpentine. Winding corridors and twisting