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“We’re armed like a whole regiment of elven soldiers,” Helena said.

Alma shrugged. “Well, we might be going into battle.”

We drove through the night, taking turns as we had on the way home. It was early morning on the second day—the seventh in all—as we drove through the village where I had been with Lilja in the hayloft. The last time we had been alone together. I had kept my mind on the practicalities of the trip until now, but tears sat in my throat as we began to climb the mountain. Helena pointed the barrel of the rifle up into one of the lone trees. A crow watched us from a gnarled branch. “Alfrun will know we’re coming.”

“You think it’s Vemund?” I said.

“I recognize those ugly little eyes.”

The crow took off and flapped away.

“Do you think she’ll send one of her soldiers out to greet us again?” Alma asked.

As if summoned, a wolf appeared ahead, answering Alma’s question. It slunk through the snow, getting nearer.

“It could be Alfrun herself?” I said.

Next to me, Helena narrowed her eyes. “No. She wouldn’t deign to welcome us herself.”

A dark spot appeared behind the wolf, and as it came nearer, I shivered. Another wolf. It only took one soldier to lead us inside the mountain. Another wolf appeared, then a fourth. Soon seven of them were coming toward us, and I reined in the horses.

“Dammit,” Helena said. “I knew she wouldn’t let us just stroll into her hall again.” She pointed the rifle at the nearest beast. Its yellow eyes were on us, but it didn’t slow at the sight of a barrel aimed right at it. Perhaps we had been wrong? Maybe bullets did nothing to elves?

The wolves were so near now I could make out the pupils in their yellow eyes. They bared their teeth and snarled, circling the sleigh. The horses whinnied and stomped their hooves in fear, and I tightened my grip on the reins in case they decided to rear up or run. My pounding heart wanted to do just that—bolt away from here.

The rifle clicked when Helena released the safety. “I’ll shoot if you come any nearer,” she yelled. They paid her no mind because the wolves kept coming closer, surrounding the sleigh. When I glanced sideways, I glimpsed Alma behind me standing up in the sleigh with one of her spears in her hand.

Something moved at the edge of my vision, and I spun around just as a wolf leapt for me.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The sharp clank of it echoed against the side of the mountain, making my ear ring. Helena was bent over me, smoke rising from the end of the barrel. I blinked. The wolf had slunk back, but there was no blood in the snow.

Either Helena had missed or bullets didn’t hurt them. No. I had to think about this logically the way Alma did. If the wolf had retreated, it meant the elf inside its hide feared the rifle. If bullets did nothing to it, its teeth would currently be lodged in my throat.

“Dammit, I missed,” Helena said, pulling back and pointing the rifle at the wolves watching us from their circle. The horses whinnied and pulled at the reins, and I had half a mind to let them have their way and bolt, but if we fled, the wolves would pursue, and they were much faster than us.

“Helena,” Alma yelled from behind. A wolf was attacking from the other side. It leapt onto the bench and before Helena could point her rifle at it, it sank its teeth into her arm. In that same moment, Alma thrust the spear over Helena’s shoulder and pushed the tip into the wolf’s chest.

The wolf released Helena, and with a yelp it fell backward off the bench, the spear still embedded in its chest. It collapsed on the ground, and when I blinked, it had turned back into an elf. He looked just like the other soldier—green clothes and long, blonde hair. Blood soaked his tunic, and within moments, the snow beneath him had turned crimson. His hands scrabbled frantically at the spear, his fingers too slick to get a proper grip on the wood. Soon—and very fast although I was no doctor—his desperate clawing stopped. A wet sound came from his throat, and then his pale blue eyes turned empty.

I glanced around. The other wolves watched, and they stood so still they might as well have been encased in ice. The first one to run was the one that had tried to attack me. The others followed, darting away up the mountain the way they had come.

“They know,” Alma said as we watched them leave. “They suspect we have their magic.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

Next to me, Helena hissed as she pulled up her torn sleeve. The wolf’s teeth had torn her skin and flesh. It looked deep, and blood ran from the slashes and down her arm, dripping on her skirt.

“We’ll go back to the village,” I said. “Get it cleaned and bandaged.”

“No,” Helena said with a fervent shake of her head. “It’ll take too long, and it seems Alfrun isn’t going to let us in. She’s trying to delay us so we’ll be too late.”

“It’ll fester without cleaning.”

Alma rummaged around a basket, then held out a small wooden disc on her palm. “Hopefully with this it won’t.” Sitting on the bench between us, Alma gently cradled Helena’s arm in her hand. She laid the disc on the deepest cut. “I’ve carved a healing rune into the wood,” Alma said.