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338 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 30, 2021
The ocean air was cold and damp, and the only reason the humans didn’t catch their death of cold was that they were already dead.
“You can learn fighting skills, Robin Grima. You can’t learn courage.”
A garden in sunless Jotunheim? Skadistead’s garden was rich with gold roses and gold sunflowers and gold daisies. None of them would ever lose their petals unless a thief stole them. None of them would ever grow. They were all cold metal, forged by dark elves, but they shone bright in the fire-gold glow of Gerd’s hair.
“We don’t know the name of the Naglfar’s captain. The prophecies don’t say everything.”
“The prophecies just say that when Ragnarok comes, everybody will fight and everybody will die,” Robin Grima said bitterly.
“Well,” said Knut, “at least that way nobody’s in a hurry for it to come.”
The cold waters around us were full of falling stars and falling souls, as they tumbled down the Hel Falls, to the lower worlds. We fell past Midgard and saw Orm encircling the human lands.