As it turned out, Svalbard wasn’t just a chunk of rock in the middle of the ocean. It was a magical chunk of rock with a super magical mountain. And that made it a pain in the ass to find.

“The mountain isn’t on any map.” Del shifted through a pile of maps in the back of her trove.

She, Cass, and I had come up here early in the morning after scouring the internet for any mention of a super tall mountain on Svalbard. As far as the modern world was concerned, Svalbard existed. But it didn’t contain the largest mountain in Norway. That was on the mainland.

Since Del’s trove contained an enormous collection of books and a few old maps, we’d come up here to see if we could find anything. Two hours later, surrounded by piles of books and scrolls, we were coming up empty.

“So if the internet has nothing and your trove has nothing, we’ll need to go farther afield,” Cass said.

“Dr. Garriso and the fae Fiona,” I said. Our friend at the Museum for Magical History and the fae librarian were the two most knowledgeable people we knew. Their libraries and memories far surpassed ours. I looked at Cass and Del. “I’ll start with Dr. Garriso if you’ll contact Fiona.”

“On it,” Del said.

Cass saluted.

We left the trove, filing into Del’s bedroom. They stayed behind, and I took the stairs two at a time to my apartment, grabbed the keys to Fabio, then headed down to the street. The late winter sun was just rising when I stepped out into the chill air. I had two hours until Ares returned from a trip to the Vampire Realm that was meant to start coordinating backup for our future fight against Drakon. We weren’t sure when we’d need them exactly, but it would be soon.

Fabio was parked just down the street. It didn’t take me long to reach the Museum for Magical History. Despite the early hour, Dr. Garriso was sure to be there. We were pretty sure he even slept there occasionally, so dedicated was he to his passion.

I parked in the lot behind the museum and hurried toward the back door. I tapped on Dr. Garriso’s office window to alert him, then knocked on the unassuming entrance that led to the staff offices.

A few moments later, Dr. Garriso opened the door. He was in his seventies, with flyaway white hair and a tweed coat that looked very Sherlock Holmes on him. It suited the old scholar.

“Come in, come in.” He gestured me inside the barren hallway.

Though the main part of the museum was a beautifully decorated old building, the staff offices were located off a linoleum-tiled hallway in the basement. Fluorescent lights buzzed in the ceiling.

“Whatever you’re here about, it must be important,” Dr. Garriso said.

“How’d you guess?”

“I’ve been getting a fair number of difficult questions from your camp lately.” He grinned. “I just hope I can help with this one.”

“Me too.”

Dr. Garriso led me down the hall to his office. Stepping inside was like going to another world. The twentieth century office drudgery of the hall gave way to a book-lined office that looked straight out of a nineteenth century lord’s manor. Floor-to-ceiling shelves were filled with leather-bound books. Tiffany lamps cast a warm glow over the dark furniture and heavy desk.

“Tea?” Dr. Garriso asked.

I smiled. It wouldn’t matter if the world were ending—Dr. Garriso would always offer tea. “Thank you, but I’m not sure I have the time.”

Concern wrinkled his brow. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

I took a seat in one of the leather chairs at the end of the narrow room.

He sat next to me and leaned forward. “What is it that I can help you with?”

I told him about Svalbard and the mountain that couldn’t be found on any maps.

Interest gleamed in his eyes, and he tapped his chin. “Interesting. Very interesting. I think I may know just what you’re talking about.”

I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but he leapt up, as spry as a man in his twenties, and hurried to the far wall. He scaled a wooden ladder and reached for a large, dusty book.

“I’ve always been interested in the ancient religions,” he said as he hurried back. “The problem is that there is usually so little written history. And what we have isn’t necessarily reliable. Some things weren’t written down until hundreds of years after the fact, and how are we supposed to know what got lost in the process?”

“So you think this has something to do with an ancient religion?”

“It just might.” He sat and opened the huge book. A small poof of dust plumed upward. Quickly, he skimmed through the pages. Then he stopped, pointing to one. “Yes, yes. Here it is. There is mention of primordial gods in Northern Europe. The first gods, who came long before the Greek or the Celtic or the Norse. The primordial gods.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“Not many people have. But the Icelandic poet Snorri Sturleson recorded an ancient tale, passed down through the centuries, of a land of ice and snow that was protected by the primordial gods.”

“I’ll bet twenty bucks it was Svalbard.”

“Yes, very likely. It was said to be an island, far off the coast, where the polar bears were larger than houses.”

Ehhh. I grimaced. “If it’s protected by the primordial gods, that could mean it’s hidden from human eyes, right?”

“Yes. And your giant mountain would be hidden as well.”

“So how do I reach it?”

He leaned over the page, brow drawn. After a moment, he spoke. “It says here that there is an entry in Heimsrkingla. There’s nothing there now—just rocks and snow on Norway’s northernmost coast. But you should go and see if you can trigger the magic.”

“What kind of trigger?” I thought of the dwarves in Norway and how we’d had to trigger Sven’s magic with the amber stone.

“I have a feeling that if this is what I think it is—and you are who we all think you are—that you won’t need to do anything other than show up.”

“I hope you’re right.”

His gaze turned grave. “So do I. Because you need to succeed, Nix. And I’ve just given you all the information that I know.”

“Thank you.”

He grinned. “My pleasure. Not every day that my knowledge is put to such world-saving use.”

World-saving. “I just hope I can live up to that.”

* * *

I arrived back at Factory Row the same time Ares did. He strode down the sidewalk toward me and pulled me in for a kiss. My mind spun for the briefest second, every inch of me focusing on his touch, before he drew away.

I wobbled a bit, steadied my breathing—and then remembered everything that faced us. That sobered me right up.

“Did you find anything?” he asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yes. Should we need them, I have a contingent of vampire soldiers who will help us with the fight.”

I grinned. “Thank you. And I got lucky, though Cass and Del struck out.”

“You know where to go?”

“I do.”

“Good. Because there’s a crowd waiting.” He pointed behind me.

I turned, looking through the window of P & P. I’d only had eyes for Ares when he’d arrived and hadn’t noticed how many people were inside.

Cass and Del, with Aidan and Roarke. Along with Connor, Claire, Aerdeca, Mordaca, Bree, and Ana.

I gave Ares a quizzical look. He shrugged, which I should have expected. How would he know their intentions better than I?

“Let’s go figure this out, then.” I walked into the warmth of P & P and looked at all of the people. “So, guys, what’s the party for?”

“We were hoping you’d tell us.” Aerdeca tapped her fingers on her chair arm. She was dressed in her tactical fight wear instead of her usual white pantsuit. So was Mordaca.

“Yes, Cass says that you’ve found the dragons,” Mordaca said.

“Maybe found the dragons,” Cass said.

Mordaca waved her black-clawed fingers. “Whatever.”

I approached the group. “Yes, there is a chance I have found the dragons, but I can’t guarantee it. Why are you here, though?”

“To help you, obviously.” Bree flicked her dark hair back from her face.

“We barely know you,” I said. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but you’re risking a lot for people you barely know.”

“We’re risking a lot because there’s a lot at stake,” Ana said. “All the magic in the world. That means our magic, too. And the magic of every innocent supernatural out there.”

“And we’re not interested in running from a fight,” Bree said.

A smile twitched at my lips. “I’ve gotten that impression.” I looked at Aerdeca and Mordaca. “Same goes for you?”

“We’ve known what was at stake from the moment we touched the beaker,” Aerdeca said. “We’re here to fight.”

I glanced at Connor and Claire, but their faces basically said, “Give me a break.”

I didn’t bother asking them why they had our backs. They always had our backs.

“All right, then,” I said. “We do need your help. Normally, we’d take fewer people on recon—which is what this will be—but we can’t afford for Del, Cass, or me to get caught by Drakon.”

“So we’ll be your guards.” Bree cracked her knuckles and grinned.

“Yeah, basically.” We could protect ourselves normally. But this wasn’t normal.

“With this crowd, I think we’re going in loaded for bear,” Cass said.

I grimaced. “Good, because there will be polar bears. Big ones.”

“So we’re headed north?” Del asked.

“Yes.” I relayed Dr. Garriso’s information about the primordial gods and what we might face.

We didn’t have much of a plan other than show up, stick together, and hope for the best. We were really walking into the unknown.

“This is some serious chosen-one business going on,” Bree muttered.

She was right. And whoever had done the choosing—I sure hoped they knew what they were doing.

* * *

With Ares, Cass, and Mordaca as the transporters in the group, it didn’t take long to transport everyone to Heimsrkingla. After everyone had gotten into winter clothes, Ares took me first so that we could scout out the terrain. Everyone else followed behind.

As soon as I arrived on the far northern coast of Norway, cold wind whipped across my cheeks, making my eyes water. Every bit of land that wasn’t barren rock was covered by snow. The black sea roiled, whitecaps topping the waves.

It was much colder than the fjord had been, and much more desolate. Especially in the dark. Damned winter. It seemed that most of our time in Norway would be spent in the dark. Especially this far north, where there would be no sun all month. At least there was a bright moon and stars. Reflection off the snow gave plenty of light.

I spun in a circle, taking it all in. Mountains rose high behind me. At the sea, small islands of rock dotted the landscape.

Close to the water, something pulled at me. Cass had just arrived with Roarke and Del, but I left them behind, crunching through the snow toward the water’s edge. It felt like my dragon sense, but I hadn’t employed it.

Ares joined me. “Where are you going?”

“I feel something. Magic. It’s different.” Maybe it was the same thing Dr. Garriso had been speaking of.

I clambered over rocks as waves crashed against the shore. The magic grew stronger, sparking on the air.

“Do you feel that?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Ares said.

Hmmm. I quickened my pace, my heart racing as I neared the magic. At the shore, there was a barren spot with no snow. It was a large flat rock, about ten feet wide. I walked out to the middle of it, magic singing up through my bones.

There was a carving on the rock, a large swirl. As soon as I stepped into the middle, the magic swelled.

Water splashed.

I looked up.

A large ship was rising up from the sea.

“Holy fates,” the murmur sounded from behind me. Other exclamations followed.

Water poured off the rigging and deck. It glittered in the moonlight, a structure made entirely of ice. It was clear in parts and cloudy in others, but the whole thing was definitely made of ice.

These Norwegian Vikings sure did like their boats.

Bree stepped up beside me, her dark hair hidden behind her hood. Her voice was filled with awe. “Skithblathnir, the ship of the gods.”

“What is it?”

“The best ship ever built, according to Norse mythology.”

My gaze traveled over the ship. It was huge, with the sleek lines of a Viking warship. But there were no shields at the waterline, which a warship would likely have. There were also no sailors.

“I think we’re supposed to board,” Ares said.

I nodded slowly, still awed.

“Pretty impressive,” Mordaca said. “Yes. I’d say you are the chosen one.”

I let out a shuddery breath. “Then let’s board.”

I made my way to the shore. There was either deep water or magic right here, because the ship lined up exactly with the rocks near the water. I jumped from one of the rocks onto the deck. Despite being made of ice, it wasn’t slippery underfoot, thank fates.

Ares followed, then Del and Cass. Everyone else boarded afterward.

“Anyone else think it’s a tad risky to board a boat that is technically made of water?” Claire asked.

“Yes.” I nodded emphatically. Water on top of water. We’d just have to hope it didn’t melt.

Once everyone was on board, the boat pulled back from the shore, then set out to sea.

“There’s no sail raised,” Cass said.

I looked up at the empty mast. “Nope.”

Magic propelled this vessel. I looked at Del, whose dark hair whipped in the wind. “Do you see any ghosts?”

She shook her head. Del was the only one among us who could see ghosts that didn’t willingly show themselves.

Ana stepped up to the rail and looked warily into the sea. “Is it a ghost ship if there’re no ghosts?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. But it sure feels like one.”

The ship cut through the waves, which got bigger as we headed farther out into sea. If this was some dark magic, it could take us out and drop us in the middle of the ocean.

The moonlight glittered on the waves as they rose and fell around us. The cold cut through my jacket. I shivered, wrapping my arms more tightly around myself.

“We have to be getting close,” Cass said. “This is too wild to not be the right track.”

I had to agree with her logic. The crazier and more magical things got, the more I thought we were going in the right direction.

It felt like hours that we sailed, the wind chilling our bones and muscles. In the distance, storm clouds rolled and lightning struck. Eventually, snow began to fall, the clouds blocking out the light of the moon. It was so dark it was hard to see the ocean now, and claustrophobia pressed in on me.

Finally, the snow stopped. The clouds parted and moonlight revealed glowing, snow-covered mountains in the distance.

“That’s it.” I grinned.

“You feel that, though?” Cass asked.

“Not good,” Mordaca murmured.

Aerdeca shook her head in agreement.

They were right. Magic rolled off the land, a threatening electricity in the air. I shivered and tried to ignore it as the boat carried us to the shore. It glided to a stop, and we jumped off one by one, landing in the soft snow. It covered the ground, fluffy and white and so pure it seemed like no one had stepped on it in centuries.

Warily, I walked forward. I was about to call on my dragon sense when figures stepped out of the darkness ahead of us.

They were shrouded in gray robes. Wind flickered, blowing the fabric back and revealing icy forms.

“They’re not human,” Del whispered.

“Nope.” They were made of ice, just like the ship.

They stalked toward us, their flowing robes unable to conceal the rigid movements of their icy forms.

I stepped forward. “Hello. I am—”

They gestured, cutting off my words.

Well, okay. That was pretty clear. I looked at my friends. Most shrugged and nodded, which was about how I felt too.

The figures waved us forward, then turned and walked slowly away. We obeyed, tromping through the snow after them. They didn’t lead us far, just a few dozen yards to where four large sleighs waited. Each was oversized and pulled by a massive polar bear.

One of the bear’s nostrils quivered, then his big head swung around, and he pierced me with cunning black eyes. He roared, the sound shaking snow from a nearby tree.

I stiffened, heart leaping into my throat.

One of the cloaked figures held up a hand, his cloak waving in the breeze. The bear abruptly quieted, but continued to glare at me.

“Without those guys in cloaks, we’d be bear kibble,” Cass whispered.

“Yep.” I shuddered and climbed into one of the carriages. It, too, was built of ice. Warily, I sat on the bench, waiting for it to melt against my butt.

When it didn’t, I relaxed. Thank fates for magic.

Ares joined me, along with Cass and Aidan. Del and Roarke joined Connor and Claire in a sled, while Aerdeca, Mordaca, Bree, and Ana took the other. The cloaked figures sat in the last.

No one said a word, but somehow the bears knew to leave. They lumbered through the snow, effortlessly pulling our carriages.

“This is amazing and terrifying,” Cass said.

“Yep. If it weren’t for the creepy magic and the icy grim reapers, it’d be a winter fairy tale.” I looked up at the snow that had begun to fall. The flakes were fat and white, and settled on the bears’ thick white coats.

“I had no idea any of this existed,” Aidan said.

“I don’t think anyone knows,” Ares said. “The magic that brought the boat was triggered by Nix. She felt it, but I felt nothing.”

“I didn’t feel anything either,” Cass said.

“Well, I just hope I’m not leading us to our deaths.”

The creepy magic grew stronger as the polar bears pulled our sleighs over hills of snow and past a wide, icy river. Heaviness hung over the place, a threatening magic that raised the hair on my arms.

If these were the ancient gods—the primordials—they were the ones that people had been afraid of. They weren’t the happy summer gods who brought sunshine and harvest, that was for sure.

As the sleighs glided over the ground, the moon glittered brightly on the snow. Thank fates it was full—we needed all the light we could get in the endless dark of a Svalbard winter. When we crested a large hill, the moon illuminated the scene ahead.

A steep-sided mountain loomed. An icy castle was built into the base, a massive structure that glittered in the moonlight.

“Whoa.” I’d seen an ice hotel on TV before. This was nothing like that measly structure. The castle was oversized—like giants would live within.

“That’s ten times the size of a normal castle,” Ares said.

He was right. The walls had to soar a thousand feet high. The turrets went even higher, ornate structures that pierced the sky like needles.

The polar bears roared and picked up their pace, racing toward the castle at a breakneck speed.

“Like horses heading home,” Cass said. “They must want their hay.” She hesitated. “Or raw flesh or whatever.”

I grimaced, hoping we wouldn’t run into the polar bears when they weren’t with their creepy tenders.

The eerie magic increased as we neared the castle. It crept over my skin, cold and prickly. Gods always had the strongest magic, but this was off the charts. We weren’t even within the castle walls yet, and I already wanted to climb out of my skin.

The bears slowed in front of the castle, drawing to a halt. A huge gate was set into the walls that towered overhead. I tilted my head back and looked up. The floor dropped away from me, and my head spun. I clung to the seat beneath me. Hello, vertigo.

In the other sleigh, one of the figures stood and raised an arm. Sparkling light swirled toward the gate, which groaned as it slowly opened. A blast of freezing air rushed out. I huddled against Ares. He wasn’t any warmer, but his presence was a comfort.

The bears dragged the sleighs into a massive courtyard. Somehow, the castle felt bigger from inside. Like it was built for giants.

Ah, crap. I really hoped it hadn’t been.

In the middle, a huge fountain shot crystal clear water into the air. In this cold, it should have frozen. But then, the rules didn’t apply when there was so much magic in the air.

As smoothly as ghosts, the cloaked figures rose and gestured us forward. Silently—this place seemed to demand silence—we rose and followed them through a huge door decorated with swirled silver set into the ice.

The air vibrated as we went into the massive room beyond. The ceiling soared above, so high that eagles could have flown through without a problem.

I leaned toward Ares and whispered, “If this is the only way to get to the mountain of dragons, how did Drakon make it through?”

“That is a very good question.” Ares’s tone was grim.

We gathered in the middle of the room, which was empty save for a massive ornate ledge on the far wall. When I heard the first thundering footsteps, it dawned on me that the ledge might be a bench.

I straightened my spine and sucked in a breath.

Then the magic came. Dark and cold and roiling like the sea in winter. It brought with it a howling wind, hunger, and grief.

Yes, these were the winter gods. The darkness of the most desolate time of year. I swayed on my feet, trying to resist the crushing sensation. It felt like an avalanche pounding down on me. Out of the corner of my eye, my friends swayed where they stood, each wobbly but determined to hold their stance.

The giants entered one at a time, entering from an archway to the left. The first was built of jagged icicles. Slender and angular, he was at least sixty feet tall. He stalked toward the bench. The face was androgynous, but somehow I knew he identified as male, and that his name was Isedor. I’d have staked my life on it. That was a crazy godly skill, putting your name directly into someone’s mind.

Then came a massive man who was tinged vaguely blue. He was the color of a corpse almost, stocky and muscular, with the squashed face that I normally associated with dwarves. But he was far too large. His hair and beard looked to be made of snow, and his clothes were the faded gray of a winter morning. Lyrtjur, was his name. Once again, it blazed in my mind.

The third figure was almost difficult to see. It entered as a breeze carrying snowflakes, a wind that took the shape of a woman with long flowing hair. She was visible from some angles and not from others, depending upon her stride. The personification of a winter wind, if I had to guess. Called Varemar.

They each took a seat on the bench on the far wall. They towered so far over us, and their magic was so strong, that I felt like nothing more than a gnat at their feet.

They had to grant us passage, or we were screwed.

“Who are you?” said Varemar. Like her snowy, ephemeral figure, her voice sounded like a wind whistling through a forest, which should be impossible. But not here.

I stepped forward, muscles trembling from cold and fear. “I am Phoenix Knight. I’ve come to defeat the evil Drakon.”

“Ah, you come at last,” said Varemar.

“You’re not easy to find.”

“Drakon managed,” said Isedor, the icicle giant. His voice grated like ice rubbing against gravel.

“He came before me?” My heart thudded.

The pale blue giant nodded. “He passed here three days ago.”

I gasped. “You let him through?”

Too late, I realized that my tone sounded like an accusation. The icicle giant surged to his feet, chips of ice breaking off him to crash to the ground.

“I’m sorry. That tone was rude,” I said. “Please accept my apologies.”

The icicle god threw out his hand, a harsh gesture that sent a blast of freezing wind right at me. It bowled me over, sending me tumbling across the icy ground. I slammed into the wall behind me, my back aching.

Slowly, I dragged myself to my feet, grateful to see that my friends were all still standing. Tension radiated through Ares, but he was keeping it together.

Good. None of us could beat these guys. Not even Ares.

“Enough, Isedor.” The blue giant, Lyrtjur, made a calming gesture with one hand.

Isedor grumbled, and then sat.

I walked forward on trembling legs, trying to craft my apology. But the snowy wind god spoke before I could.

“What makes you think we would not allow Drakon through our territory?” Varemar asked.

I stopped next to Ares, dumbstruck. “Well, uh, he’s incredibly evil. He’s going to awaken the dragons and wreak havoc everywhere. Then he’ll steal all the magic from the world.”

Sounded like a laundry list of the worst shit ever to me.

But the snowy wind god shrugged an ephemeral shoulder. “You assume we don’t want Drakon to succeed. Which is quite myopic of you.” She turned to the other two gods. “Why is it that humans are always so obsessed with themselves?”

While I could say that the gods gave us a run for our money, I’d better not.

Varemar turned back to me. “Our magic has nothing to do with your magic. All the supernaturals on Earth could lose their powers, and we would be the same as ever. We owe you nothing.”

It was easy to assume that they wouldn’t just help us for the sake of it, then.

Isedor shifted, his icicles glinting in the light. “And you assume that we like the status quo. We don’t. We haven’t been worshipped for millennia.” He gestured to the empty great hall. “So we sit here, bored. If Drakon succeeds and throws the world into chaos, the old ways might return. Humans will be so fearful that they will look to the supernatural for answers. Perhaps they will even worship us again.”

Shit. I had not been anticipating this.

Varemar leaned forward. “So you can see why we are not overly concerned with preventing Drakon from achieving his goals.”

“Does that mean you won’t allow me to pass?” My heart thundered in my ears.

Varemar sighed, and a gust of snowy wind blew past my cheeks. “That will be up to you. We will allow you to prove your worthiness. If you pass, you may go through. After that, you may enter Svalbard at your will, transporting wherever you like on the island. If you fail to cross—well, it won’t matter. You’ll be dead.”

I wanted to give her a sarcastic thumbs-up. Instead, I just nodded. Worthiness tests were old hat to me now. Bring on the monsters and the acid lakes.

Varemar stood and pointed in front of her. The ground groaned and cracked, opening right in front of my feet, revealing a deep crevasse into nothing. The icy chasm gleamed a deep, dark blue.

I stepped back, my breath short.

“You will walk across that,” Varemar said.

It was easily twenty feet across. There was no bridge. I’d have to conjure one.

“No magic,” Varemar said.

“What?” Ares barked.

“No magic. It’s a test of worthiness.”

I held out a hand, cutting off Ares’s next words. “So you’re suggesting that I walk across thin air on nothing but my own worthiness?”

“Precisely.” Varemar’s voice was cold.

It was a good thing I couldn’t see her expression through her ethereal form. I didn’t think I’d like it.

Ares caught my eye. “Don’t do it.”

I could read the message he didn’t say. We’d find another way.

But we wouldn’t. Couldn’t he feel the magic here? This was the land of the primordial ice gods. Without their permission, there was no other way through.

I shot him a brief look, hoping it gave him faith, then turned to the primordial gods. “All I have to do is walk across, right? No magic. Just step onto nothing?”

The three nodded.

I rubbed my hands together. “All right, then. Let’s do it.”

From behind, I could feel my friends’ dismay.

I didn’t share it.

Yes, I could go plunging down a thousand foot crevasse. But I wouldn’t.

I was the one who would defeat Drakon. This was my purpose. The reason I’d been born. No matter what it took—I would be victorious. I would save the world. Because I wouldn’t settle for anything less. I was the hero of the gods, chosen by fate, and christened by the Valkyrie and Athena.

Watch out, Hercules.