Chapter 40
"Get the girl," Olaf says to the two Darkálfars standing behind him. The Darkálfars both have piercings all the way up their ears and several more in their faces. They are grotesquely muscular and their faces are etched with hatred and they wear black suits that look like modern Nazi uniforms. A gold dragon-faced logo with a wreath around it is attached to the left shoulder sleeve of their uniforms. It looks like the same beast Anthony and Maureen morph into.
"Leave her alone, Olaf!" Anthony stands up and takes a swing at him, but Olaf fires the pistol in his hand, shooting Anthony in the shoulder. Anthony screams and falls to the floor, blood saturating his shirt.
I hear the pain in his cry. "Anthony!" I yell. But I can't go to him; the Darkálfars have grabbed hold of me. I kick and scream. "You don't have to kill us because I've already decided to give you my fifth Huldra gift. Just let my mom go free and Anthony and me, and it's all yours."
"Sonia, don't you dare give him your gift," Anthony groans, holding onto his shoulder.
"Shut up, Anthony! If we're not alive, there is no benefit to me keeping my gift anyway!" I haven't really decided to give my gift away yet, but I just want my presentation to be believable enough so I can buy time. With more time, I have a better chance to find other ways to escape.
Olaf smiles and says slyly, "The young Huldra does have a point, Anthony."
"I saw you die, Olaf. What, you had to come back from the dead to plague us some more?" I can't believe I actually felt bad that Anthony killed him.
He nods and then sighs. "Well, I guess Maureen skipped the part in the Book of Huldras that explains how a Huldra can appropriate lives, or maybe you just could not stay focused enough on the lesson to learn that part," Olaf retorts.
"Olaf, you are not as appreciated or needed here as you might think. Layla was excited when she saw that you had died, and even said you had it coming," I spew.
"I doubt that she said anything of the sort. A low blow will not get you anywhere here," Olaf says.
"Whose life did you have to steal anyway? Maureen's? Layla's?"
"Your father's," Olaf says.
It feels like a million bricks are thrown at me at once. Surely, what Olaf said can't be true. "My dad died over a year ago," I say. "You're lying."
"I am telling the truth. I took your father's pathetic life, swallowed it right up, after the car accident," Olaf says. "Now, the life-force he gave up, lives in me."
I detest the tears that emerge from my eyes, as they might look like signs of weakness to Olaf. If I had the chance to kill Olaf again, knowing he would die for good, I would gladly be the one to do it. I'm surprised by the hatred I have toward him, but he shot Anthony, and he claims to have taken my father's life. How did Olaf know how and when my dad died? Did he know my father? Had they been friends?
"That is none of your concern," Olaf says.
In my rage, and surprise to see that Olaf was alive, I forgot that he can read my mind. I forget too easily. "My family is my concern!" I am so mad that I know I would kill him given the chance.
Olaf laughs mockingly. "There is still time to become the Huldra you were meant to become. Join us, and we will overlook this one indiscretion of yours."
He thinks he's so clever, throwing my comment to him when he broke into my room back in my face. "Never!" I'd rather die.
"Dear Sonia—sweet little Huldra—you are such a disappointment. Maureen had such high hopes for you. I had such high hopes for you." I cry when he grabs the raw flesh of my arm and pulls me with him through the dark, medieval-looking dungeon hallway.
"At least when you feel pain, you know that you are still alive." He then shoves me into a room with a metal bed identical to the one I woke up on when I arrived here. The room is square and looks like a makeshift surgery room with massive rectangular light bulbs hanging from each of the four corners. There are three small tables with scalpels, tweezers, and other shiny scary-looking instruments neatly placed on top of them.
"Strap her up so she cannot move," Olaf says to the two Darkálfars. He flings me toward the table and the Darkálfars grab my arms.
"I want to talk to Maureen," I say, still struggling to pull away from the Darkálfars.
"Do you really think, mulatto girl, that Maureen will be any kinder to you? You should be glad I am here as I am far more merciful than she."
I don't care what he says. "I demand to see her immediately." The Darkálfars wrestle me onto the table and secure me with four white straps. I give them hell, determined to fight until the bitter end.
"Oh, yes, you always were a feisty one. Unruly, undisciplined, unappreciative...it is a very common problem among youths today. Millennia ago, children were well-behaved and were so much more respectful of their elders," Olaf says.
"And you were always a liar and a greedy, blood-sucking leech."
Olaf comes over and pulls my hair back so hard that my eyes burn. "I will get Maureen for you," he says, licking his lips.
"Good," I say and smile as I gasp. I am afraid, but I am also strong.
Olaf releases my hair. "Do you know that I hate mixed breeds like you? Maureen hates mixed breeds too and that is another reason she cannot stand Anthony. He is just a pathetic Huldu-Darkálfar mix."
"How can she hold that against him? He's her son!"
Olaf ignores my question. He turns on the blinding lights, one at a time, as he paces around the metal bed. "Half breeds are so difficult to deal with. What the Helheim are you? Half something, half something else? Not really anything at all?" He stops walking. "Purity used to be important in the Huldra Dynasty, but because of your mom, the governesses changed the rules and allowed Huldras to marry humans and Lightálfars. Purity is being bred out. The bloodline of the pure Huldra is vanishing, and they are doing nothing to stop it!"
"I'm just as good as any other Huldra," I say.
Olaf leans over me, his eyes inflated with loathing. "Deep in your heart, you know that is not true," he says.
I feel the tears press against my eyes and I blink them away—I can't afford to let weakness take over. If I want to get out of here alive with Anthony, I need to remain focused, strong and calm.
"Truth cuts like a dagger, does it not? Ah, the pain of being something incomplete. It hurts like...a fiery inferno, I suppose. I would not know." Olaf smiles, his hollow cheeks look ghoulish as usual.
"I see it as having the best attributes of two species."
"Keep telling yourself that, but it will not do you any good." Olaf turns on his heels and leaves the room.