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

staircases that looped back on themselves. Jord felt the presence of great evil here. It only grew stronger as they went deeper. Yet, they made good time and worked their way down five levels before things went wrong.
    “Yet another son of Thor has come to play.” The voice came from the darkness ahead. “We hoped, by letting your brother go, we would lure many more Asgaardians here. Sadly we must take what we are given.”
    Suddenly light flared around them and the group found itself in a vast hall, surrounded by hundreds of dark elves with swords drawn and bows ready. Jord saw his advance scouts lying in pools of their own blood at the feet of the enemy.
    “Lay down your weapons.” The dark elf leader was richly dressed. He leered at Jord. “If you surrender, you will live.”
    Jord knew better. Surrender to the dark elves would only result in their deaths or worse.
    Anger burned in Jord’s gut. “Meghan.” Jord whispered as loudly as he dared, hoping she was close enough to hear. “Get out if you can. Now!”
    “Linden, retreat.” He gripped the shoulder of the bright elf commander next to him. “Do what you can to get your troops out safely and Meghan back to Asgaard. We’ve failed.”
    Jord lifted his sword and charged the front lines of the dark elf army. Straight on, hoping to pull as many of the enemy from the sides and back as he could, to give Meghan and the elves a chance to escape the trap.
    He swung his sword in a wide arc as he approached the enemy. It would have been nice to have his father’s belt, to lend more power to his swings, but he felt glad the belt was still with Meghan, protecting her. Behind him he could hear the clash of battle as the bright elves engaged their dark cousins, but there was no time to see how things were going.
    Jord found himself ringed by the enemy. He spun furiously, swinging his great sword around to engage as many of the enemy as possible while holding the rest at bay as long as he could. He had no thought of victory. There was no chance of that, with these numbers. He only sought to keep as many of them occupied as he could, for as long as he could, to give the others a chance to escape.
    He soon bled from dozens of wounds, but the battle fury was on him. Damn the dark elves and their evil. Death would find him in a battle worthy of Valhalla. What more could a warrior of Asgaard ask?
    In the end they dragged him down. Darkness closed in on Jord and he made one last desperate swing, to take as many of the dark elves as he could with him. He laughed inwardly. It was a worthy death, but Val was sure going to be pissed when she had to come get him and drag his sorry spirit to Valhalla.

Chapter 9
    Do not despair.
    Meghan crouched in the doorway lost and alone. How could she help but despair? The citadel doors had been closed and locked. She was trapped inside and lost in a labyrinth of twisting hallways. The bright elves lost their gambit to escape. Most, if not all, of them were killed by the dark elves. It had been a horrible, horrible slaughter. And Jord was . . . gone. She’d last seen him surrounded by a host of the evil dark elves. How could he possibly have survived?
    They are here. We must find them.
    The voice of the belt in her head was almost commanding. Gone was the friendly, conversational tone.
    Who’s here? She almost said it out loud, but she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. She pulled tighter against the wall, hoping she was still invisible. It was so hard to tell in the gloom where she shed no shadow anyway. The two dark elves passed right by her, within touching distance. Meghan held her breath.
    The elves had the look of death. Their pale, sallow skin was stretched tight over boney frames. Like their bright elf cousins their faces were beautiful, but it was a cold beauty, a dead beauty. Like zombies in some terrible, B movie. There was no expression, no emotion. It was like looking at an animated corpse.
    One of the dark elves turned to