Bridge Broken: Bridge of the Gods, #2

By Elliana Thered

A trio of exiles. A shared past. And a prophecy that could end worlds...

To the gods, she is Bivrost, the magical way connecting Asgard to all other realms. 

Iris alone can open bridges between the Nine Worlds. The last of her kind, she was taken in by Asgard's gods—until a prophecy and her compassionate nature made her a threat. Then the god she thought she loved stole her magic and abandoned her to the mortal world of Midgard.

Heimdal is the Watcher of the Gods, sworn to protect Asgard from threats internal and external. When prophecy demanded a sacrifice, Heimdal defied Asgard and gave up everything to protect the woman he'd grown to love. He will do anything to keep Iris from coming to harm, even betray her—again.

Loki has been an outcast from the day he was born. The only person who ever tempted him to stop driving people away was also a woman he knew could never truly love him. He couldn't decide whether to let Iris change him or punish her for trying. When he realizes that she's been stranded in the same world where he's been exiled, he finally gets to decide. 

For six years, Iris has lived as a mortal woman, betrayed by her lover, stripped of her magic, and lonely beyond measure. Despite her best intentions to remain uninvolved, the same compassionate streak that landed her in Midgard keeps dragging her into the woes of mortals Iris would rather not call friends—except that she already does.

When Iris's magic unexpectedly returns, the prophecy that landed her in this mess to begin with resurfaces with it. With the lives of friends and whole worlds at risk, Iris will have to fight to hold onto her magic and her heart—with two gods closing in and no idea which she might be able to trust…

Fans of K.F. Breene, Laura Thalassa, C.N. Crawford, and Annie Bellet will enjoy this romance-drenched fantasy reimagining of Norse myths and legends!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nightraven Publishing
• Release date: Jan 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386710547

Book preview

1

LIGHT

warped around Claire and I, waves of color that bent and wavered. Bright white flashed, and the void of the way between worlds opened before us.

In the split second between that flash of white light and the moment when the bridge I’d created pulled us forward, something unfamiliar seemed to writhe at the edge of my vision.

I turned my head, but already the void carried us away. I saw nothing unusual in the colors. I heard nothing different from the faintly distorted thrum of our movement.

If there had been something, I couldn’t have done anything about it right then, anyhow. So I kept my arm firmly around Claire as we traveled through the way I’d opened. She wasn’t heavy, but I was tired. Fortunately, the trip took mere seconds to complete.

I didn’t take us directly to my cabin along Cox Lake. With the possibility that Heimdal might by some chance be waiting there for me, I didn’t dare.

Dead grass crumpled beneath our feet as the light delivered us to my chosen destination. Crisp North Dakota air stung my cheeks. I took a deep breath, startled by how good the apples-and-old-leaves scent made me feel. Like I might even have missed it.

Claire gasped. Cold, she murmured.

A little. I waited until I was sure my feet were planted firmly before glancing around.

If there had been anything odd about the way I’d opened, it hadn’t carried forward to Midgard. None of what I saw and heard were any different from what I’d expect from a North Dakota autumn day.

I’d brought us a few yards from the lake’s edge, on the far side of a thicket of myrtle and a few scattered poplar trees from my cabin. On the days when I took my easel and paints outside, this was where I came. It provided an ideal view of the lake and the distant shoreline, and the light slanted perfectly through the trees at several times of the day.

The important thing about the location today was that I couldn’t see my cabin from where we stood. Which meant that if someone was there, he couldn’t see us. Which was exactly my plan.

Beside me, Claire’s weight shifted, tugging against the arm I’d looped around her before leaving Alfheim. When I turned my head, she blinked at me like a waking child. By now, her black eyeliner had smudged into uneven smears around her smoky brown eyes.

I tried out a reassuring smile. Take it easy. We’re back home.

Claire was, anyhow. We’d just left mine behind. Except, of course, that it was completely, utterly empty.

Alfheim no longer felt like home. My heart felt caught in a vacuum.

In my other hand, black soil pressed between my fingers, clinging to the roots of the Tansy’s Star we’d brought back with us. Plant life might have made a comeback on Alfheim, but in all ways that mattered to me, it was a dead world.

Claire’s weight tugged even more heavily against the arm I had around her. I resisted the pull only enough to prevent her from outright falling and helped her lower herself to the ground. She put her back to the nearest tree, her black hair in sharp contrast to the brilliant yellow leaves clinging to the low-growing poplar branches.

Wait here for just one minute. I hesitated, taking in the pallor of Claire’s face and the still-odd state of her pupils.

Concussion, or the effects of whatever drug her lousy boyfriend had slipped to her? Either way, we were here so I could get Claire whatever help she needed. Tincture from the Tansy’s Star? Hospital? I had no idea which would be better.

First things first.

I need to check something out, I added, straightening from my crouch beside Claire.

I’ll hang out here. Claire mumbled the response, but I caught a hint of her usual wry tone. I thought. Maybe it was just wishful thinking—a faint hope that Claire would suddenly just be better.

I sidled away from Claire, easing along the edge of the myrtle and poplars until I glimpsed my cabin through the haze of golden leaves. The wind gusted, rattling branches over my head and sending a burst of leaves raining down around me.

I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Heimdal was waiting there, in hopes I’d come back. Or Loki, for that matter, although I still couldn’t puzzle out why he’d gotten involved with Claire and her boyfriend. Or whether he really had, and this whole crazy suspicion about Loki wasn’t just my imagination, for that matter.

But Frigg’s long-ago prophecy had come back to haunt me, and it started with Heimdal and Loki and me. Helping Claire wouldn’t do a lot of good if I managed to set the end of all worlds into motion in the process. Not to mention the fact that I wanted to hold onto my magic. Or that both men had betrayed me, and the very thought of them twisted old knives of pain in my gut.

The easiest way around all kinds of problems was obviously to avoid Heimdal and Loki altogether.

Along with all the other things I didn’t know, I didn’t know whether, when Heimdal had stolen my magic six years ago, he’d also somehow learned how to use it. Or if he, with all his super senses, could hear me using it.

Or maybe I was just being paranoid. But damn it, look what had happened the last time I’d trusted without question.

So I peered through the scarlet and yellow leaves and watched my cabin, counting my breaths as I waited to see if it looked clear.

2

UP

at the cabin, the tawny raw wood of the logs glowed a rich sienna in afternoon daylight. That same light reflected off the lake and then back into windows and double doors. I couldn’t exactly see clearly through them. But I watched for several moments and saw no movement.

The only sound I could hear was the scrape of branches over my head. I’d come at the cabin from an angle, so I could only see a fraction of the cabin’s front. Claire’s van was still out front, one rear wheel of the beat-up green van visible at the cabin’s corner.

I stood there for a second, trying to decide what to do next. Cool air shivered across my neck, although the sun was warm enough that I wasn’t horribly uncomfortable in the denim jacket and down vest I wore.

I was tempted to go check out the whole cabin first, while I was unencumbered and undistracted. But leaving Claire out here, alone, to fend for herself—that seemed counterintuitive to the entire reason I was here at all.

As I turned back to return to Claire’s side, the breeze gusted, slapping poplar leaves like tiny dry hands against my cheeks and carrying the distant sound of a barking dog across the lake from one of the other cabins. I shoved the offending branch away from my face and ducked around the poplar’s trunk, still sticking close to the myrtle.

Dead leaves whirled up from the ground, lifted by the breeze as it rose into a distinctly chilly wind. Goosebumps lifted along my arms. Across the lake, the dog’s bark morphed into a howl.

Other howls rose alongside it, some distant and faint, others closer. The wind shifted again, and this time it seemed to howl, too. The combined sound keened in my ears like a mourning wail, not so much loud as insistent.

Iris? Claire’s voice trembled.

It’s OK, I said, as I shoved around the last scrubby patch of myrtle between us.

Is it? I thought briefly of that odd moment just before the way had opened between Alfheim and here. Related? Not?

Gods. What now?

Claire half stood, her back still pressed against the poplar’s trunk and her knees bent. Her already-too-wide eyes had grown even wider. Her gaze searched, only steadying when it lit on me.

I’m hearing things now. Claire lifted one hand and tentatively pressed her palm over one ear. It’s in my head. Is it in my head?

It’s not in your head.

I hurried the last few steps to Claire’s side, fighting the urge to throw my hands over my own ears. Despite the wind now lifting my hair away from my face, Claire was right. The sound it made was more than just the wind. It did feel like it was inside my head as much as outside.

My pulse quickened, and the back of my neck tingled. I shoved the Tansy’s Star into one pocket, hoping for the best for the delicate white flowers, so I could reach for Claire with both hands. As I put my hands on her shoulders, I looked around.

Still nothing out of place. Even the wind itself wasn’t really out of place—it was September in North Dakota, after all. The weather, caught between autumn and winter, was often fickle.

It’s all right. Gently, I squeezed Claire’s arms. Everything’s going to be fine.

I hope. Really, though, who was I to be promising anyone that things would turn out well?

Claire pulled away from the tree, shifting her weight onto her own feet, although unsteadily. I caught her balance when it slipped and shifted it back toward her.

It’s not too far. I could take us there by opening a way. But I still didn’t know if the cabin was really clear. Can you walk it?

Claire shot a sideways look at me. The way her mouth trembled, I could tell she was forcing it, but she smiled.

Sure, she replied, and bravado was in her voice, too. It’s just a little noise.

The wind gusted, and the wailing that wasn’t but also was inside our heads rose a little higher.

My cheeks stung, and my eyes watered. The air temperature felt suddenly much colder.

Oh. Oh wow. Claire’s words came out in a cloudy puff.

The heavy, sharp scent of impending snow filled my nose.

Put your arm around my neck. As I spoke, I shifted my grip from Claire’s arm and put that arm around her waist. I think we should hurry.

The otherworldly howling faded to nothing more than the sound of the rising wind—but the temperature of that wind concerned me. The jacket and vest I wore were suitable for early autumn. Claire’s stylish waist-tied coat was much the same. I had cheap faux leather gloves tucked into my pockets, but they weren’t thick enough for full-on winter. I doubted Claire had even that much.

Couldn’t you just zap us there? Claire’s arm settled obediently across my shoulders. Her words, spoken so close to my ear, sounded slightly slurred.

I could. But still I hesitated.

I still don’t know for sure if he’s in there. I took a step forward, and Claire stuttered a step alongside me. It’s not too far. I think we can make it the old-fashioned way.

I’m still not clear on why you’re running away from tall, blond, and gorgeous.

It’s a long story.

He’s tall. And blond. And gorgeous. A note of something that might have been wistfulness or just petulance entered Claire’s voice. Claire’s brow pulled down in a frown. And he’s obviously into you. How many chances do you get for someone to love you? Maybe you should give him another shot.

I pressed my lips together. Daddy issues, I reminded myself.

Giving too many people too many chances is how I wound up in this screwed-up mess to begin with.

I snapped out the words as we hurried to cover the distance between us and the tentative safety of my cabin. We skirted the edge of the myrtle thicket, and I struggled to keep my stride short enough for Claire to keep up with. The wind gusted, shaking the poplars like a giant’s fist. Bright yellow and crisp orange leaves exploded outward, leaving behind skeletal branches.

Darkness seemed to rise from the very ground. When I looked up, the sky had turned a hard, ominous gray.

I’d seen snowstorms before, many times. I’d never seen one form this quickly.

Something is really wrong. Beside me, Claire’s steps faltered.

I couldn’t blame her. Mine faltered too.

A deep, pure silence fell, as if the world had been wrapped in thick wool, muffling all sound everywhere.

Then the snow started to fall. Heavy flakes came straight