فصل 29

N?kk, N?kk

ALDERMAN KNEW how to throw a party. He also knew how to throw things at a party.

From the top of the staircase, we gazed down at a living room jammed with well-groomed elves in elegant white, gold, and silver outfits. Their pale eyes, fair hair, and expensive jewelry gleamed in the evening sunlight streaming through the windows. Dozens of hulder servants moved through the crowd, offering drinks and hors d’oeuvres. And in all the cases and niches, where artifacts and minerals were once displayed, piles of Andvari’s treasure glittered, making the whole room look like a jewelry warehouse after a tornado.

Above the fireplace mantel, across the foot of Andiron’s portrait, hung a golden banner with red letters: WELCOME, MAGNUS CHASE, SON OF FREY, SPONSORED BY HOUSE ALDERMAN! And under that in smaller print: HEARTHSTONE HAS BEEN BROUGHT BACK.

Not “returned.” Been brought back. As if the elfish marshal service had apprehended him and hauled him home in chains.

Alderman himself circulated through the crowd at double-speed, tossing gold coins to his guests, accosting them with jewelry, and muttering, “Can you believe all this treasure? Amazing, isn’t it? Would you like a golden choo choo train? May I interest you in a dagger?”

In his white tuxedo, with his wild eyes and brilliant smile, he looked like a diabolical maître d’ seating parties at Chez Mass Murder. His guests laughed nervously as he threw treasure at them. Once he passed, they muttered to one another, perhaps wondering how soon they could flee the party without seeming impolite. Alderman wove through the room, distributing golden trinkets, and the crowd moved away from him like cats avoiding an out-of-control Roomba.

Behind us, Inge murmured, “Oh, dear. He’s getting worse.”

Hearthstone signed: The ring is affecting him.

I nodded, though I wondered how strained Mr. Alderman’s sanity had already been. For decades, he had been living off resentment, blaming Hearthstone for Andiron’s death. Now, suddenly, Hearthstone had freed himself from that debt. Andvari’s ring simply moved in to fill the void with a whole bunch of crazy.

Blitzen gripped the staircase with his gloved hands. “This isn’t good.”

He was wearing his bath-towel burka to protect himself from the Alfheim light. He’d explained to us that his usual pith helmet netting and sunscreen would not be sufficient, as he was still weak from petrification. Still, the outfit was a little disturbing. He looked like a miniature version of Cousin Itt from the Addams Family.

“Aha!” Mr. Alderman spotted us on the stairs and grinned even wider. “Behold, my son and his companions! The dwarf—at least I assume that’s the dwarf under those towels. And Magnus Chase, son of Frey!”

The crowd turned and looked up at us, emitting a fair number of oohs and ahhs. I’ve never liked being the center of attention. I hated it at school, and later in Valhalla. I hated even more these glamorous elves ogling me like I was a delectable chocolate fountain that had just opened for business.

“Yes, yes!” Mr. Alderman cackled like a maniac. “All this treasure you see, my friends? That is nothing compared to Magnus Chase! My son finally did something right. He brought me a child of Frey as part of his wergild payment. And now this boy Magnus Chase will be my permanent houseguest! We will start a line for photo ops at the bar—”

“Hold up,” I said. “That was not the deal, Alderman. We’re not staying past this party.”

Hearthstone signed: Father, the ring. Dangerous. Take it off.

The crowd stirred restlessly, not sure what to make of this.

Alderman’s smile eroded. His eyes narrowed. “My son is asking me to take off my new ring.” He held up his hand and wiggled his finger, letting the gold band catch the light. “Now, why would he ask that? And why would Magnus Chase threaten to leave…unless these scoundrels are planning to steal my treasure?”

Blitzen scoffed. “They just brought you that treasure, you daft elf. Why would they steal it again?”

“So you admit it!” Alderman clapped his hands. All the doors to the living room slammed shut. Around the perimeter of the room, a dozen columns of water erupted from the floor and formed vaguely humanoid shapes, like balloon animals filled with water…minus the balloons.

Blitzen yelped. “Those are security n?kks.”

“What?” I asked.

“Also called nixies,” he said. “Water spirits. Bad news.”

Hearthstone caught Inge’s arm. He signed: You still have family in woods?

“Y-yes,” she said.

Go now, he said. I release you from my family’s service. Don’t come back. Also, call police.

Inge looked stunned and hurt, but then she glanced at the water spirits surrounding the crowd below.

She pecked Hearthstone on the cheek. “I—I love you.”

She vanished in a puff of fresh laundry-scented smoke.

Blitzen arched his eyebrow. “Did I miss something?”

Hearthstone shot him an irritated look, but he didn’t have time to explain.

Down in the living room, an older elf shouted, “Alderman, what is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning, Lord Mayor?” Alderman grinned with an intensity that was not at all sane. “I now understand why you all came here. You meant to steal my treasure, but I’ve caught you gold-handed! Security n?kks, subdue these thieves! No one leaves here alive!”

Etiquette tip: If you’re looking for the right time to leave a party, when the host yells, “No one leaves here alive,” that’s your cue.

Elves screamed and ran for the exits, but the glass doors were shut fast. Security nixies moved through the crowd, changing shape from animal-like to human-like to solid wave, enveloping the elves one by one and leaving them passed out on the floor in elegant wet lumps. Meanwhile, Alderman laughed and danced around the room, retrieving his gold trinkets from his fallen guests.

“We’ve got to get out of here now,” Blitzen said.

“But we need to help the elves,” I said.

True, with the exception of Hearthstone, I didn’t think much of the elves I’d met. I liked the guppies in Andvari’s pond more. But I also couldn’t stand the idea of leaving four hundred people at the mercy of Mr. Alderman and his liquid nixie thugs. I pulled out my pendant and summoned Jack.

“Hey, guys!” Jack said. “What’s going—ah, n?kks? Are you kidding me? There’s nothing to cut with these guys.”

“Just do what you can!” I yelled.

Too late, Hearthstone signed. Violins!

I wasn’t sure if I’d read that last sign correctly. Then I looked downstairs. Half the nixies had stationed themselves around the room in humanoid form and were pulling out solid violins and bows from…well, somewhere inside their liquid selves. That seemed like a very bad place to store stringed instruments, but the nixies raised the wooden violins to their watery chins.

“Ears!” Blitz warned.

I clamped my hands to the sides of my head just as the n?kks began to play. It only helped a little. The dirge was so sad and dissonant my knees wobbled. Tears welled in my eyes. All around the room, more elves collapsed in fits of weeping—except Mr. Alderman, who seemed immune. He kept cackling and skipping around, occasionally kicking his VIP guests in the face.

From inside his terrycloth hood, Blitzen let out a muffled yell. “Make it stop or we’ll die of broken hearts in a matter of minutes!”

I didn’t think he was being metaphoric.

Thankfully, Hearthstone was not affected.

He snapped his fingers for attention then pointed at Jack: Sword. Cut violins.

“You heard him,” I told Jack.

“No, I didn’t!” Jack complained.

“Kill the violins!”

“Oh. That would be a pleasure.”

Jack flew into action.

Meanwhile, Hearthstone fished out a runestone. He tossed it from the top of the stairs and it exploded in midair, making a giant glowing H-shape above the heads of the elves:

Outside, the sky darkened. Rain hammered against the plate glass windows, drowning out the sound of the violins.

Follow me, Hearthstone ordered.

He clambered down the stairs as the storm intensified. Giant hailstones slammed into the windows, cracking the glass, causing the whole house to tremble. I pressed my hand to my waist, making sure the Skofnung Stone was still secure, then I ran after Hearth.

Jack flew from n?kk to n?kk, chopping up their violins and crushing the hopes and dreams of some very talented nixie musicians. The water creatures lashed out at Jack. They didn’t seem capable of hurting the sword any more than Jack could hurt them, but Jack kept them occupied long enough for us to reach the bottom of the stairs.

Hearthstone paused and raised his arms. With a tremendous BOOM!, every window and glass door in the house shattered. Hail swept in, pummeling the elves, hulder, and nixies alike.

“Let’s go!” I yelled to the crowd. “Come on!”

“Fools!” Alderman cried. “You are mine! You cannot escape!”

We did our best to herd everyone into the yard. Being outside felt like running through a hurricane of baseballs, but it was better than dying surrounded by n?kk fiddlers. I wished I’d had the good sense to cover myself in bath towels like Blitzen.

Elves scattered and fled. The nixies rushed after us, but the hail made them sluggish, slamming into them and forming icy froth until they looked like slushies escaped from their Big Gulp cups.

We were halfway across the lawn, heading for the wilderness, when I heard the sirens. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw emergency lights flashing as police cars and ambulances pulled into the main drive.

Above us, the dark clouds began to break up. The hail subsided. I caught Hearthstone as he stumbled. I almost thought we would make it to the woods when a voice behind us shouted, “Stop!”

Fifty yards away, our old friends Officers Wildflower and Sunspot had drawn their firearms and were preparing to shoot us for loitering, trespassing, or running away without permission.

“Jack!” I yelled.

My sword rocketed toward the cops and sliced off their utility belts. Their pants promptly fell around their ankles. Elves, I discovered, should never wear shorts. They have pale gangly legs that are not at all elegant or graceful.

While they tried to recover their dignity, we plunged into the woods. Hearthstone’s strength was nearly gone. He leaned on me as we ran, but I’d had a lot of practice carrying him. Jack flew to my side.

“That was fun!” he announced. “Afraid I just slowed them down, though. I’m sensing a good place to make a cut just up ahead.”

“Make a cut?” I asked.

“He means between worlds!” Blitzen said. “I don’t know about you, but to me, any of the other eight would be preferable right about now!”

We staggered into the clearing where the old well had been.

Hearthstone shook his head weakly. He signed with one hand, pointing in different directions. Anywhere but here.

Blitzen turned to me. “What is this place?”

“It’s where Hearth’s brother…you know.”

Blitzen seemed to shrink under his mound of towels. “Oh.”

“It’s the best spot, guys,” Jack insisted. “There’s a real thin portal between the worlds right on top of that cairn. I can—”

Behind us, a shot rang out. Everyone flinched except Hearthstone. Something buzzed past by my ear like an annoying insect.

“Do it, Jack!” I yelled.

He raced to the cairn. His blade sliced through the air, opening a rift into absolute darkness.

“I love darkness,” Blitzen said. “Come on!”

Together we hauled Hearthstone toward Pees-in-Well’s old lair and jumped into the space between the worlds.