Chapter 27

Imogen skidded to a halt, arm shooting out to stop Linda. The girl crashed into her – but froze as soon as she saw the witch.

The woman had not changed since Imogen had last seen her. She still had the same small, thin figure, hunched over in false pretence of frailty, her grey hair wispy around her cruel, wrinkled face. As always, her eyes shone with a vibrant youth that was denied to the rest of her.

Imogen couldn't take her eyes off her, fighting the strong urge to just turn and flee as fast as she could. She knew she wouldn't really get far. This wasn't a foe that she could run from, no matter what she'd let Linda believe. Against magic – especially dark magic – they were all but helpless. What hope did they possibly have against her?

What was she going to do to them? Curse them? Burn them? Drown them? All the horrible ideas of her death ran through Imogen's head and she felt her hands start to tremble.

She made sure they were out of Linda's and the witch's sight.

Her gaze was locked on the witch's amber orbs, gleaming frighteningly in the night. "Let us go." Imogen demanded, bolder than she felt.

The witch's lip curled in a merciless smirk. "We all know I'm not going to do that."

Obviously, thought Imogen.

They didn't have a chance, she knew that. All the same, she wasn't going to just roll over and let the witch kill them. She would go down with a fight.

Her eyes glanced subtly to the nearby trees; if they could just get there, they had a chance…more cover to hide, more targets to shield them – gods, if they just ran, she might lose sight of them enough for them to buy themselves some time. If only they could get to those trees, just a handful of yards away…

She could hear Linda's fast breathing behind her and knew the girl must be terrified. All because she had changed her mind, had tried to save Imogen.

Now she would most likely die for it.

Imogen edged forward slightly, moving her body in front of Linda's. The least she could do was try and keep the girl alive a little longer. If she could distract the witch long enough for Linda bolt into the trees, she might have a chance. It was Imogen the witch was after, after all.

Gritting her jaw, Imogen held fast to the last of her courage, meeting the witch's gaze unrelentingly. This was the woman that killed her son; that burn of fury gave her strength to stand firm.

"Thor will stop you." She said it with more conviction than she felt.

The witch only looked more amused. "By the time he gets here, it will be too late."

In the bottom of her heart, Imogen knew the witch was right, but that wasn't what sent chills down her spine. It was something else, something else that was wrong – why was she not doing anything?

The pair of them were at her mercy and the witch just stood there, not even moving. For all the lengths she had gone to to get them here, Imogen would have thought that she would have made her move by now. She had not even wounded them! It wasn't what Imogen would have expected. It was almost like the witch was stalling-

She didn't even get the chance to finish her thought before Linda screamed.

Hands grabbed from behind and Imogen threw Linda forward out of instinct, glad when the girl hit the ground running. They made for the trees.

Elga's face glimpsed in Imogen's mind from the corner of her eye, but she didn't dare stop for a proper look. Within a matter of steps, Imogen found herself shrouded with trees – then the one behind her shattered in an explosion of splinters. She ducked down in alarm, but didn't break stride. All she could do was run.

The forest thickened quickly and within moments the women were weaving between the trees, and Imogen was painfully aware of the consequences should they run into a tree by mistake. Her mind was too scattered to think though. She was running on instinct.

Run!

Her legs carried her forward faster than she could imagine and she barely noticed as she overtook Linda. All she was aware of was Elga's crashing pursuit behind them, hunting her down.

Fear ran thick and fast though her system and her mind raced for a way out, for an escape from this. It couldn't see one; only running and praying.

This was the end, she knew. She couldn't run forever, and when her body gave out she knew Elga would be right on her heels to slaughter her. Imogen could still hear her running after them – Elga always seemed keen to get her hands dirty, obviously preferring to end Imogen's life by her own hand.

All the same, Elga had the advantage as she chased after them. Imogen prayed that she would trip or fall – something that would help give them even a chance at surviving!

For a woman that was so malnourished and weak, Imogen couldn't help but notice how fast Elga was. She was easily keeping up with them, if not gaining. It was frightening. Did she have power too? It didn't matter much in that moment. Knowing wouldn't change the fact that Elga would almost be able to reach them in just a few moments time…

Out of the corner of her eye, Imogen saw Linda fall away. Her mind caught on quicker than her body; her head turned, but her body kept on running. Linda was sprawled out on the forest floor behind her, fallen.

She glanced up - then Elga pounced from behind and slit her throat.

Imogen screamed instinctively and her body twisted round, unable to tear her eyes away as Linda's terrified orbs glazed over and her face fell forward to the forest floor. She barely took another step before her legs caught and she came crashing down onto her back.

Amongst the trees, Elga rose slowly, menacingly. A long, thin blade was in her hand, still dripping with her little sister's blood.

Fingers digging into the dirt, Imogen clawed her way back along the forest floor, desperate to put more distance between her and Elga. Her eyes were locked on the bloody weapon, her breaths leaving her lungs in short, sharp bursts.

She didn't even notice the clearing she'd crawled into, just fighting to move away from the thick of the trees. When she did notice, she froze and glanced around the trees that arched around her like a trap. Out here she was exposed – there was nowhere to hide. Turning back to the trees, she watched with horror as Elga stepped forward.

There was no smile, just fierce determination in her orbs, calling for Imogen's blood. That's it, Imogen thought. She was going to die.

Then a gust of wind blew behind her and she jumped as black fabric draped over her shoulder. Tearing her eyes away from Elga, she glanced over her shoulder – right into the face of the witch looming above her.

The knife glittered in the light of the lightning.

Imogen's heart hammered in her chest but she couldn't move. She was trapped; there was no way out of this.

She stared up at death and watched the witch raise the blade high, unable to look away from the beautiful, deadly weapon. Would it hurt? Would it be fast? She didn't have time to feel anything but fear. Glimpses of Thor and Shelby flashed in her head –I'm sorry, she willed to them silently.

Finally, her will broke and she looked away, screwing her eyes shut as she curled forward sharply. She couldn't look.

Thunder cracked harshly above her - and the blade thudded to the dirt beside her.

Tentatively, she peeled her eyes open.

The black robes were still draped over her, the witch still looming above her. But the knife lay in the grass. A thick drop of blood fell onto the glinting metal blade.

Heart in her mouth, Imogen glanced up. The witch wasn't looking down at her anymore, her gaze was directed elsewhere, across the glade. Her once light gaze was now thick with venomous hatred, amber eyes murderously dark. Her hand was lowered to eye level, her palm outstretched – a short, pointed dagger was embedded deep in the middle of her hand.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and Imogen felt fear shudder through her. "It will take more than just a knife to stop me." The witch hissed.

Imogen felt something inside her cower.

"It's not just a knife."

Imogen's head snapped up – she knew that deep, rumbling voice.

Thor!

She turned around sharply and there he was, almost too good to be real. The god stood on the fringes of the trees in the clearing, cape moving with the breeze of the wind and Mjolnir firmly in his hand. Even from this distance, Imogen could see his thunderous expression. Everything about him looked strong, angry, and ready to fight; he was every part the warrior he was renowned for.

Her heart soared with hope to see him. He was here! He had come for her. Two women against a powerful god – no competition!

What did he mean by the dagger though? Why was it not just an ordinary knife? Then Imogen glanced down at the witch's fallen blade and she noticed the drop of blood. The blood drop wasn't just blood, but there was also a clear liquid that pulled away from the crimson, the two curling together on the metal. What was that?

Whatever it was, the witch knew. Imogen looked up and was shocked to see the witch still just stood there, her daggered hand falling to her side. Her once thunderous face was now pale with shock.

Imogen moved out of the way just in time as the witch thudded to her knees where she had lain just moments before.

She bit down the urge to shout out in alarm and braced herself, muscles tensing. The witch must be playing some kind of trick, surely. To lie there, faced down, still… had Thor really done it? Had he killed her? Looking closer at the dagger through her hand, Imogen saw through the splatter of blood how the blade had been coated with a clear mixture that now seeped in with the crimson. Poison?

Across the glade, the god breathed out a heavy sigh and let Mjolnir fall to the grass. His shoulders relaxed as he took a step towards Imogen.

"She'd not dead." He said calmly. "Merely frozen. I would not give her the peace of a quick and easy death. We will take her back to Asgard so she can stand accused for what she has done to our family and suffer as we have."

Imogen wished she could share her husband's relaxation, but she couldn't as she realised something vital – from when Thor stood, the darkness of the trees was probably impenetrable. Unless he knew something was in there and knew what to search for, he wouldn't see anything at all.

Whereas when Imogen looked ahead, her eyes linked with Elga's murderous gaze amongst the trees, nothing but solemn hatred in her orbs.

Her heart plummeted.

The forest seemed to erupt as Elga burst forth with a cry and Thor halted in his steps in surprise. He hadn't seen her – and now she was making a charge for Imogen.

Imogen turned and pushed herself onto her feet, already running. It was too late though, and Elga threw herself at her from behind.

Both women crashed hard to the ground and the fall knocked the breath out of Imogen, leaving her gasping. She was helpless as Elga grabbed her and flipped her over. Over Elga's shoulder, Imogen saw Thor running for them, but he had been too far away and it would be too late by the time he reached them.

Mjolnir tore through the air though and crashed into the back of Elga's shoulder, knocking her forward onto Imogen and ripping the blade from her grasp. Dully, head spinning from the fall, Imogen watched it thud into the ground.

Thor's hand was outstretched as he ran, calling his hammer back to him. In a matter of strides, he would be there.

Elga pushed herself up and Imogen glimpsed the pure fury on her face, before she wrenched herself around and threw something into the air as the hammer rushed past them. Quick, foreign words tumbled out of her mouth and Imogen didn't need to know what they meant to know they were bad.

And now whatever they would do was racing towards Thor.

"No!"

Her shout came too late though as she pushed herself upright just in time to see Thor grasp his hammer. In an instant, he was knocked back, sent flying through the air across the glade until his back thudded hard against a tree. Imogen watched with horror as for a moment the god was deathly still.

Then his empty hands shakily rose to his face and his gaze slowly lifted – a gaze that was empty and sightless. Imogen felt sick as the god opened his eyes and all there was to see in place of his usual dazzling crystal blue orbs was pure, perfect white. His mouth hovered open slightly and Imogen could read the horror on his face, knowing it was matched on hers too: he couldn't see.

Or rather, he couldn't see around him. As his lips numbly mumbled something that Imogen could read, even across the glade, she knew he was seeing something in his head – "Logan!"

Imogen held her breath; their son hadn't been named before he died, but Logan had been at the forefront of their ideas. It wasn't hard to guess what Thor was seeing behind his blind eyes. Suddenly, his expression of wonder made absolute sense.

What did not make sense was the way the god suddenly curled his fists up to his head as if in terrible pain and let out an animalistic roar. There wasn't an ounce of sanity or awareness in the god's face as he writhed against the tree he was pinned to, the skies above crackling with unpredictable electricity. His arms lashed out as he yelled wildly, as if he was fighting an invisible enemy that only he could see.

It frightened Imogen to see her husband so enchanted. What the hell had Elga done to him? One thing was for sure though – Thor would not be able to help her.

The agonised yell sounded across the glade quickly woke Imogen's dazed mind from its confusion, snapping her back to awareness sharply.

Elga's attention was still diverted, watching her handiwork undo the god across the clearing as she knelt over Imogen. "Good thing Mother taught me some magic of my own." She muttered bitterly under her breath.

The Queen's heart was in her mouth as she raced to think of a way out of this. Her eyes scanned around her for anything – the knife! As much as it terrified her, she knew this evening would only end one way: when one of them had killed the other. Her wide eyed gaze locked on the blade embedded deep into the ground, but it was too far away for her to reach. She had to get to it somehow…

Eyes wandering back to the witch in training above her, Imogen gathered her courage. Elga stayed distracted, her gaze burning with fury.

In the blink of an eye, Imogen hooked her leg around Elga's and threw her weight to the side, toppling the witch. Elga hit the ground with a hard thud. Imogen wasted no time and scrambled over the trainee witch, eyes fixed on the dagger.

Elga's hand slashed wildly and caught Imogen across the cheek before she could get clear, the force of the blow rolling Imogen away. Her cheek burned and stung from the strike, and she could feel blood oozing from the gashes in the side of her face. She didn't dare stop though; barely gasping in pain, she let herself roll out of Elga's reach, then pushed herself to her feet and ran towards the knife.

A few paces away, Elga did the same – but Imogen got there first. The moment the knife was free, Imogen skidded round, aiming it squarely at her enemy.

Elga skidded to a halt, eyeing the knife point.

For a moment, everything froze and neither of them moved. Elga stared at the knife, and Imogen stared at Elga, lightning crackling wildly above them, the sky practically alight with electricity. Both of them were breathing heavily, but neither one made a move, waiting for the other's reaction.

Out of the corner of her eye, Imogen glimpsed her husband across the glade. The way his body writhed was like he was being burned alive, those ferocious yells that left his mouth just…indescribable. It sent shivers through her.

She turned her gaze to the one responsible: Elga's face had lost any of its twisted amusement, her mouth thin and tight as she eyed the blade. "What did you do to my husband?" Imogen demanded.

Finally, Elga's gaze flickered up from the knife. "Mother taught me a trick or two." Her lips twitched in the corner. "He is lost in a world of his own nightmares, trapped with all the things that he fears, that he dreads, that break his heart…"

Logan…

The death of their son had destroyed him. His screams changed constantly across the clearing, one moment in anger, one moment in almost pain. The cry of his grief was unmistakable though, and it cut through Imogen's heart like a slow, blunt blade. She remembered feeling what he was feeling.

The knife trembled slightly in Imogen's hand. Just looking at Elga made her feel sick, but the worst part about what she said was that she was fully sane as she said it. Scorned, but she knew what she was doing.

"Whose idea was it to take my son?" she asked quietly, voice barely more than a whisper.

Elga's cruel smile curved even more. "Mine." She admitted proudly. "When I had a son, how could I not? Then after everything that had happened, I could finally have something you did not, something you wanted so desperately." The smile slipped from her lips the more she talked though and Imogen watched as the Elga's anger bubbled in her gaze. "You took everything I cared about away from me." She hissed, hands curling into furious fists at her sides as her accusing eye bore into Imogen. "I did the same to you."

Staring into the eyes of her son's killer, Imogen's heart steeled. The last of her fear left her – she would have vengeance for her child. "You almost did." shuddered from her.

Elga and her mother had come so close to winning. First their son, then Koli…Imogen's execution had all but had a date set yet, until Thor's will had finally broken and he believed her at last. That decision now had the god locked in a spell of his nightmares…

Imogen's eyes flickered to the god and she flinched as lightning struck down the tree he was backed against – Mjolnir was in his hand, surging with power. The lightning wouldn't be staying in the sky any longer.

How much magic did Elga know? Enough to do to Imogen what she had done to Thor? If that happened, then it would be all over…

Imogen gritted her teeth.

Elga's orbs darkened. "You haven't got a chance." She seethed at the Queen. "For all your bitterness, you don't have it in you."

Imogen had never killed anyone before, and had no desire to take a life. But if she was to take anyone's, she would glad it would be that of her son's murderer. That thought chased her guilt and trepidation away.

Fingers firming around the hilt of the knife, blade still dripping with Linda's blood, Imogen braced herself.

Then a bolt of lightning struck just a few feet away from them and she jumped, instinctively ducking away from the electricity. The ground was charred black and Imogen watch the lightning flee back to the sky, eyes returning back to Elga-

Too late.

The witch rammed into her middle and knocked the breath out of her as they both crashed to the ground. Imogen only just held onto the knife.

The baby, Imogen thought in a worried heartbeat, hand automatically flying to her tiny bump as her back thudded down on the grass. She was forced to let it go though as Elga threw herself down on her, grasping the witch's wrist to keep it from her face.

Elga grabbed Imogen's wrist though and suddenly Imogen found the knife turned on herself, still in her own grasp.

She pushed with all her might but Elga was stronger and slowly the knife was forced closer and closer to her face. She cried out as the blade carved under her chin, dragging down to her throat.

Desperately, she jabbed her knee up into Elga's abdomen and the witch fell forward, the blade wrenched away from Imogen's neck. She felt it nip her ear though as Elga fell forward, trapping the blade between her body and the grass. Imogen's hand was trapped.

With Elga no longer blocking the glade around her, Imogen glimpsed with horror all the lightning around them, striking the trees, the forest, the grass – everywhere! Thunder growled angrily in the sky above them and Imogen glanced across to her mad husband; the god's back was writhed away from the tree but he held Mjolnir high away above him, calling his element to his aid.

If he carried on striking lightning down like that, the powerful force dotting around the glade in a new place every second, he could kill them all…

She didn't get a chance to ponder their fate any further though as Elga let out a growl of frustration above her.

Imogen's arm only just blocked Elga's strike in time, the witch's fingers reaching for her throat. Forearm to forearm, they battled with their strength, Elga's eyes betraying how determined she was to kill Imogen with her own two hands. Knowing she didn't have a hope of fending off Elga unnatural strength, she brushed Elga's arm off hers and let the witch's force overbalance her, sending her sprawling to the ground across of Imogen.

Hands grappled somewhere on Imogen's dress though and she was dragged along, pulled with the witch in the grass.

She crashed into the ground and felt dirt sting into the wounds on her cheek bitterly, landing on her side. That pain was forgotten instantly though as Elga mounted her hip and fisted a hand in Imogen's hair. She yanked back brutally and Imogen cried out, feeling the strands pull at their roots.

Her throat was defencelessly exposed.

Fighting through the tears of pain stinging at her eyes, Imogen moved to raise the knife – only to find Elga pinning her arm down with her knee.

Desperate, she rearranged the blade in her fingers and reached up, grabbing a fistful of Elga's hair with her free hand. She didn't have a hope in hell of pulling Elga down on her own. Flexing her wrist though, she dug the knife point into Elga's thigh and the witch howled out, releasing Imogen instantly.

Imogen shrugged her off and Elga slipped onto the grass, turning as she fell. Her heart was easily in reach. Imogen pushed forward, knife high in the air –

Lightning struck the ground between them.

Brilliant light flashed in front of Imogen's eyes and she cried out, letting herself be thrown back as her arm threw itself over her burning eyes. Her hip and shoulder burned as they hit the ground and she rolled over, her fingers losing their grip around the knife.

As the lightning returned to the sky, Imogen saw Elga get thrown through the air, much further than she had been. She sucked in a harsh breath as Elga crashed into a tree, the back of her skull making sickening contact.

Imogen's numb fingers searched the ground for the knife and closed around the hilt when she found it, forcing herself to her feet.

This was her chance.

Her knee ached terribly but she threw herself forward into a run, aching eyes still blotted with white dots in her vision locked on Elga's weak form across the glade.

The witch was alive, but concussed by the look of it. She crawled forward and slipped, falling into the dirt. Her legs twitched and she was obviously trying to stand, failing bitterly as her legs couldn't even find the strength to straighten. Her eyes were dazed, her expression one on pained confusion. She must have taken on most of the electricity from the blast.

Running towards Elga, Thor's roars echoed in her head but she forced herself to ignore him, spurred on instead by the rumbling of the storm clouds.

When she was close enough to see the slow, yet startled, gleam in Elga's eyes though, she let out her own cry to join Thor's.

Her shout tangled with her husband's in the air as she raised the knife high, Elga still weak on the ground. She had pushed herself shakily to her knees, body swaying as the shocked woman fought to keep her balance for just a moment.

Imogen dropped to her knees a pace before the witch and let the knife drive into Elga's heart.

She fell forward as the witch fell back and screamed the last of her yell into Elga's dirty dress, feeling the heel of her hand touch at Elga's shuddering breast. The dagger was embedded deep into Elga's chest and she lay there limply, body convulsing lightly underneath Imogen as the blade tore apart her heart.

Her ragged breaths bubbled as blood pooled in Elga's mouth, but Imogen didn't dare look. Her fingers clenched around the blade, holding it down.

Finally, Elga let out a ultimate gasp and her body slumped, still.

Across the glade, Thor fell forward from the tree and thudded hard against the ground.