Seconds passed, then a minute, then another one, and another one. But still, the candle kept burning, kept making Loki stronger—
Suddenly, he let out a surprised, almost strangled gasp, and a treacherous bit of hope erupted in my heart, cutting through the utter despair.
My gaze zoomed to the candle. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought I could actually see the silver laurel leaves glinting within the wax, burning almost as bright as the black spark flickering on the wick. I blinked, and I realized that the flame had actually changed from one moment to the next.
Because now, the spark was silver—as silver as the laurel leaves.
“Get ready,” I whispered to Grandma Frost, gripping her hand even tighter with mine.
I glanced at the Reapers, but they were all fixated on Loki, smiles of wonder and excitement on their faces as they realized that their goal of finally healing him was within reach. No one seemed to notice that the spark had changed color, except for me. Grandma finally noticed too, and she gave me a sharp look. She nodded, and I nodded back at her. She’d be ready when the time came, and so would I.
Now, I just had to hope that the candle would finish what it had started—the wayI wanted it to.
But Loki seemed to recover from that first, shocked gasp. He straightened back up to his full height, and the spark sputtered from silver back to black. My heart sank again—
A bright, ominous whoosh of silver flame erupted from the candle, boiling a thick cloud of silver smoke straight up into the god’s face, completely obscuring his features for a moment, before dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.
“My lord?” Agrona asked in an uncertain voice.
Loki let out a pain-filled snarl, but he tightened his hold on the candle, his fingers digging into the white wax like claws, as if he could get the artifact to work through the sheer force of his own will. Maybe he could. Worry filled the pit of my stomach once more.
But as quickly as Loki had seemed to regain his health and strength, it all melted away like, well, candle wax. His figure grew shorter, thinner, and hunchbacked, and his bones crack-crack-cracked back into the same, extreme, awkward, twisted positions that they’d been in before. In an instant, he went from being on the verge of a full recovery to looking the same as he always did.
But it didn’t stop there.
Loki seemed to shrink down and curl in on himself, like a turtle retreating back into the ruined shell of its own body. His eyes, which had been burning so bright, began to dim, and thick chunks of his hair fell out, drifting to the broken stone like macabre bits of black, red, and golden snow.
“My lord?” Agrona asked again, taking a tentative step forward. “Are you . . . ill?”
Loki screamed in response.
Vivan whipped around to me, her golden gaze locking with my violet one, and I felt a sharp, sudden, stabbing pain in my head, as though a pair of fingers were digging into my skull. Vivian peered at me, using her telepathy magic to root around in my mind. I tried to block her attack, but my gaze flicked to the candle, and the image of the silver laurel leaves loomed up in my thoughts before I could shut it out.
She whirled back around to Agrona and Loki. “Drop it! Drop the candle! She’s done something to it!”
Agrona reached for the candle, but Loki hunched over it that much more, keeping her from ripping it out of his hands.
“No!” he screamed. “It was working! It has to work! I’ll make it work!”
The candle erupted into silver flames in his hands. I threw my hand up against the sudden, intense heat and blinding light. So did everyone else in the clearing. It took me a moment, but I managed to force my gaze back to the candle.
This time, I could see each and every one of the silver laurel leaves burning in the white wax, doing exactly what they were supposed to—killing Loki.
He let out another scream, and the flames seem to engulf his entire body, as though he were some sort of candle himself, burning, burning bright. But he still didn’t let go of the artifact. I didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t or if he still thought that he could figure out some way to reverse the magic and get it to heal him again.
I happily watched as his legs slid out from under him, and he fell to the cracked stone of the Garm gate, still holding on to the candle. Agrona tried to get close enough to rip the artifact out of his hands, but she couldn’t get through the silver flames still washing over Loki’s body, making him scream and scream and scream.
Vivian drew Lucretia out of the scabbard belted to her waist. “What did you do? What did you do?”
I grinned. “How does it feel, Viv? Knowing that you’re single-handedly responsible for injuring Loki so badly?”
Her gaze cut to the god, who was moaning, groaning, and rocking back and forth on the broken stone, even as the flames continued to burn all over his body.
“You’ll pay for this!” she hissed at me. “More than you ever dreamed of—”
“Now!” I yelled as loud as I could, cutting her off and hoping the others would hear my voice over Loki’s screams.
I waited a second, but nothing happened, and the woods remained as still and silent as before, except for Loki’s continued screams.
Vivian smirked. “What’s wrong? Did you bring some of your friends with you after all, Gwen? Well, it looks like they decided to abandon you. Smartest decision they’ve ever made, if you ask me.”
I drew Vic out of his scabbard. “Maybe. But I don’t need them to take care of you.”
Vivian let out an angry yell, and I did the same. With one thought, we surged toward each other.
Clash-clash-clang! Clash-clash-clang! Clash-clash-clang!
Vivian and I fought over the broken stone, each one of us doing our best to kill the other girl where she stood. The Reapers looked back and forth between us and Agrona, not sure whether they should help Vivian kill me or do something to try to aid Loki.
“Help me, you fools!” Agrona said, tearing off her black robe and using the fabric to beat at the flames still devouring Loki’s body.
The Reapers left me to Vivian and headed in Agrona’s direction, but they forgot about one thing—Grandma Frost.
Grandma stuck her foot out, tripping a Reaper as he rushed past her. He tumbled to the ground, and Grandma snatched up his sword from where it had fallen. She twirled the weapon around, then brought the point down into the Reaper’s side, making him scream with pain. Two Reapers whirled around at the sound. They realized that Grandma Frost had a weapon and headed toward her.
I swung my own sword out in a vicious arc, trying to charge past Vivian to help my grandma, but the Reaper girl parried my blow and lashed out with one of her own that had me leaping back to get out of the way of Lucretia’s whistling blade.
Grandma twirled the sword in her hand again and stepped up to meet the Reapers, but the one she’d stabbed reached out and grabbed her ankle, throwing her off balance. Horrified, I watched as she tried to pull herself out of the Reaper’s grasp and straighten up so she could battle the other two who were charging at her. She wasn’t going to get free in time, and both of the Reapers raised their swords, ready to bring the weapons down on top of her head—
A golden arrow zoomed out of the woods and buried itself in the chest of one of the Reapers who’d been targeting Grandma. A second later, another arrow—this one made of regular metal—took out the Reaper on Grandma’s other side. Daphne and Oliver had finally gotten into position in the trees, and they were doing their best to help us escape.
But there were still too many Reapers for that.
Even if I could have gotten past Vivian, there were still more than a dozen Reapers in the clearing, although most of them had gone over to help Agrona with Loki. The Reapers had stripped off their black cloaks and were using the fabric to try to smother the silver flames still crackling over his body.