“That was productive,” Thruor murmured. “But I think…”
“I think we need to move now, before things get any…”
And the sky split open. “…worse,” I finished.
There were stars above Muspelheim. Were we too late. Was time cracked, was the tree burning, was the…
I felt myself start to panic, felt that flow through me. Felt as if it really was over.
My life. The world. Everything.
“Breathe,” Thruor told me.
I realized I was holding my breath. “It’s over.”
“Not quite yet. Not quite.”
“Can we reverse this?”
“Yes. But it will take a lot of effort and time.”
“You have an idea.”
I shook my head. “An idea for afterwards.”
“No. Not for afterwards.” She turned towards me. There was a look on her face I had never seen there before. “Spill it, Siglaugr.”
“Falling stars. Energy.”
She nodded. “You think you can grab one.”
“No, I think the king can.”
That slight nod again. “You think that you might be able to…that…”
“That we have one last chance to try diplomacy, or rather I do. Before we have to kill him.”
It was hope. And then there was the backup plan. I can grab one.
I can’t. Not while…not while there was some hope that I could save the king. I hated him.
I hated him with a passion. A passion that was not so far, after all, away from love.
And this could get me out of all of it.