How had the powerful king died in a bar fight?

The bottle had been on display at the Ugly Vulture. It was oversized, made of thick semi-opaque jade glass. The jagged points of broken glass had glistened in the light. That was what had killed Thor, the broken bottle gashing open his throat.

That was how my father died.

My stomach rolled at the memory of me staring at the weapon of my father’s murder with only mild curiosity.

“Dagny, perhaps it’s best if you went home early,” Elof suggested. “Ulla could use some rest, and you could both use some relaxation.”

“Sure,” Dagny said, and I didn’t bother protesting. I didn’t really want to be alone.

Once we got back to the apartment, I took a long shower, and I helped Dagny make some quick grilled cheese sandwiches. After we ate, I finally started feeling better, and I was happy to spend the evening sacked out on the couch with Dagny, watching movies on the laptop.

I thought about calling Pan. I wanted to talk to him, to invite him over and cuddle with him on the couch. I could sink into his arms and pretend that everything was okay.

But then I’d have to tell him about my father, which meant I’d have to talk about it, and I didn’t want to do that just then. Dagny understood, and she hung out with me all night without saying much.

I went to bed early, pulling the covers tight around me.

Sometime later, I woke up to a strange rumble. My phone was dead, so I couldn’t see the time, but it was dark in the apartment without the waning moon filtering through the curtains. I sat up, blinking in the darkness, and I wondered if I’d only dreamt the rumble when it happened again.

Buh-bum. Loud enough to make the roof shake. A thunderous beat, like a booming, throbbing heart.

“Dagny?” I called out, but she didn’t answer. “Dagny?”

I slowly climbed down the ladder, clinging to the rungs when the buh-bum shook the carriage house again. I still hadn’t heard a sound from Dagny’s room, and I worried something was wrong, because nobody could sleep through this.

I started toward her bedroom door, but then the room began to darken. The moonlight on the floor changed from white to red, and I pulled back the semi-sheer curtain and saw blood streaming down over the window, like a waterfall.

I screamed and jumped back from it. I shouted Dagny’s name and ran for the front door. The sight of all that blood made me want to throw up or pass out, and I couldn’t do that, so I needed to breathe.

And to breathe, I needed to be outside.