The Dark World | Book 3

Thirteen: Secret Passageways

The Dark Elf ship rumbled to life, its engines whirring as it began to rise from the ground. With a loud, echoing screech, it reversed its path through the grand throne room of Asgard, heading back toward the same shattered entrance it had once crashed through. The once-pristine floors now lay scattered with debris, a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.

King Iwaldi stood at the heart of the scene, his sword gripped tightly in his hand, watching the ship with a cold, calculating gaze. He had expected this. The breaking of Loki from his prison had been inevitable. After all, how could his daughter—so fiercely loyal, so unwavering in her love—ever allow Loki to rot in a cell for eternity? Her threats of war had not been idle; Iwaldi knew her well enough to understand that when Sigyn set her mind to something, nothing could stop her.

He turned sharply to his second-in-command, his voice firm and urgent. "Tell the fleet to stand down! Do not fire on that ship!" he barked, shoving the warrior in the direction of the communication post. "Hurry! Your Princess is aboard."

The warrior nodded and ran off, the urgency in his steps matching the intensity in Iwaldi's gaze. The King remained rooted to the spot, his focus unbroken as the ship continued its slow, uncertain ascent. It seemed unsure of its path, but the pilot was determined, fighting the ship's weight and resistance to lift it into the Asgardian skies.

Volstagg, however, was beside himself with excitement. The sight of the ship moving toward freedom made him bounce up and down, weapon raised high in jubilant celebration. "Yes! Yes!" he bellowed, his deep voice ringing through the air as he watched the ship's progress with wild enthusiasm.

But Iwaldi was not moved by Volstagg's childish display. He continued to watch the ship, his expression unreadable, as it broke free of the palace's limits and soared into the open skies. It was done. Loki, Sigyn, and the others were free. The weight of what that meant pressed down on him, though he would never show it outwardly.

The ship crashed through the massive doors once more, the sound of its breakneck escape echoing through the halls of Asgard. The moment of reckoning had arrived, and there was nothing he could do to stop it now.

As Thor grew more accustomed to the ship's controls, the once-jerky movements smoothed out. The ship sliced through the air with increasing grace, weaving beneath towering arched bridges and narrowly skimming the tops of the city's towering structures. Below, the people of Asgard scattered in terror, fleeing from what they feared was another attack.

"Do you think the Vanir fleet will target us?" Thor asked, glancing at Sigyn, searching for some reassurance.

"I am confident they will not." she replied, her voice calm, though her eyes were still fixed on the outside world as it blurred by. "Their king would have sent orders to hold their fire. As for Asgard, however, I am not confident our soldiers know we are on board."

Loki, leaning casually against one of the control panels, smirked. "Look, Thor, why don't you just hand over the reins? Clearly, I'm the better pilot."

Thor let out a loud, booming laugh. "Is that so? Tell me, Loki—out of the two of us, which one can actually fly?"

Sigyn, rolling her eyes, snapped at them. "Stop bickering and just fly the ship."

In the midst of their argument, Thor's distracted hand jerked the controls, and with a sickening crash, the ship collided with the corner of a building, sending chunks of debris flying. There was a tense moment of silence as the ship swayed. Sigyn shot Loki an unimpressed look, her gaze flickering to the damage they were leaving in their wake.

The ship roared on, crossing over a courtyard where the frightened citizens scrambled for cover. Children shrieked in terror as their mothers gathered them close, desperately seeking shelter from the chaos.