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Back The Ever After Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. TheEVERAFTER
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. 79
  82. 80
  83. 81
  84. 82
  85. 83
  86. 84
  87. 85
  88. 86
  89. Epilogue
  90. GLOSSARY
  91. TheEVERAFTER
  92. By Amanda Hocking

The room was heating up, and I felt like I was slowly roasting in an oven, but I kept my head down and did my best work. I didn’t know what Lemak would do to me—or Pan, Dagny, and Elof—if I didn’t. So even when the flowers began to crumble right before my eyes, and the sweat dripping off my brow smeared the scrolls, I kept working without complaint.

Until finally—as the days rushed together, all the hours mashed into a matter of moments—I had completed the recipe for a disturbing blood pudding:

  • 1 drinking horn of álfar blood
  • 1 mug of spring lamb stock
  • 3 whole goose eggs
  • corn cockle seed flour
  • lard of hvalnum melted over an open fire
  • mashed cloudberries
  • sorgblomma, stem and liquid, mashed into a paste
  • dried mugwort, powdered in a mortar
  • Induian pear, minced
  • albino elk heart, minced

Stir it all together, cook in a full-sized cauldron until firm.

“Why is the recipe so special?” I asked as Lemak read it over.

“It’s not what the recipe is,” he said. “It’s about what can be done once it’s consumed.”

He was so delighted, his thin lips pulled back to reveal his yellowed teeth in a sickly smile, and when I asked if I could translate the bit that was scribbled at the bottom, he grunted, “You can waste your time if that’s what you choose,” without backhanding me.

Still, I wasn’t sure how long his mood would last, since some of those ingredients sounded hard to come by. The hvalnum may even be an extinct water mammal, though it sounded like it could be a harbor porpoise. They’d been taking my blood, but I wasn’t álfar. At least not completely. At the thought of someone cooking my blood and eating it, my stomach rolled, and I coughed to suppress my urge to vomit.

As I hurried to translate the scribblings, the heat in the room continued to rise. Over the course of a few days, actually. Lemak ordered me to continue translating it now, after Indu demanded more information about the ingredients. But it had been several days, and they had never been patient.

The stone walls were sweating, and the paper kept rolling and warping from the rising temperature.

“Can you turn down the heat?” I asked, nearly gasping from the suffocating warmth.

“It’s fine down here,” Lemak snapped, and then he was reading over my shoulder. “Finish your work.”

But the truth was that I thought I already had. The words at the bottom simply said, “Frey’s father has closed the bridge for the ekkálfar, and to cross it is to undo his words, and his word is bond.”

The water in the beakers began to boil, and the stone tiles scorched the bottom of my feet. I lifted them up, resting my heels on the edge of the chair to keep the skin from melting off.