Rinda Elliott - Foresworn

..it is an utterly riveting story that is unputdownable.” — Fiktshun.com on Foretold “With a fresh and original take on Norse mythology, Foretold is a breathtaking tale that will leave you crying out for more!” —Jenna Black, author of Glimmerglass “I was riveted. There were tons of thrills and one hell of a surprise to keep you on the edge of your seat. I really enjoyed the story and the ending has me excited for book two.” — Imagine a World on Foretold “ Forecast is an excellent continuation of the series and I am counting down the days until the third and final book comes out.” — Yummy Men and Kickass Chicks “ Forecast is the best kind of second installment...as action-packed as its predecessor.” — Supernatural Snark “Full of imaginative, engaging elements; Elliott delivers a novel full of humor and heart...there is no question that Elliott’s resourceful imagination will keep readers turning pages and leave them hungry for more.” — RT Book Reviews on Dweller on the Threshold

Title Page Foresworn Rinda Elliott www.miraink.co.uk

The Norns The Norns Thence come the maidens Mighty in wisdom, Three from the dwelling Down ’neath the tree; Urd is one named, Verthandi the next, On the wood they scored, And Skuld the third. Laws they made there, And life allotted To the sons of men, And set their fates. —The Norse Poetic Edda The Prophecy It is written that the kynkvísl, Norse descendants, will one day house the souls of the gods. True heroes who know their sad fate in the coming battles but fight nonetheless. Their time begins with the portents of Ragnarok. Three years of winter, roaring seas that lash the land and an all-consuming fire. The destruction of the world. There is another prophecy, one never written and held secretly by the giants of Niflheim, the lowest region of the Norse underworld. The sisters of fate have the power to change the heroes’ destinies. Change the world’s destiny. But only if they survive to their nineteenth birthday. The odds aren’t good, according to this unwritten prophecy: Born of two magical clans that share life’s spiral. Light of head, dark of eyes, the young warrior will herald the beginning of Ragnarok. His hand to the death of a norn.

Dedication Dedication Dedication Acknowledgments Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Epilogue Extract Copyright This one is for my critique partner, Rachel Vincent. She took one look at the crazy-tight timeline I’d set up in the first two books, sat us down in her living room and worked with me until I got it right. It took some time. You’re right, Rachel, we do have a great partnership, and it is about more than hummus and caffeine!

Acknowledgments Acknowledgments Acknowledgments Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Epilogue Extract Copyright First, I’d like to thank my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, for her patience with me and this particular deadline. And for all the end brainstorming! But mostly for taking a chance on this trilogy. I’d also like to thank my agent, Miriam Kriss, for the last-minute-scramble help at times. As always, so, so much thanks to my husband and children, who have developed more patience than most need while dealing with my deadlines over the past couple of years. To my mother and my sisters for LOTS of phone support. And again, to the Deadline Dames. Who knew we’d still be going strong in constant support and friendship all these years later? Devon Monk, Karen Mahoney, Jenna Black, Rachel Vincent, Jackie Kessler, Toni Andrews, Lilith Saintcrow and Keri Arthur. You guys are the best!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“One of these things is not like the others,” I sang under my breath, as I white-knuckled my Jeep between a couple of eighteen-wheelers. I’d been sandwiched between monster vehicles for so many miles, I could no longer feel the tips of my fingers.

Maybe I shouldn’t have started my trip in the middle of the night, after all.

Not that I’d had a choice. I hadn’t been able to find a hotel with an available room the night before and after four hours of sleeping in my car, I’d decided driving had to be a better option than freezing to death.

What had I been thinking?

Oh yeah. That somehow it was my responsibility to find a teenage warrior who was going to save the world. If, that is, he didn’t kill me because of some weird prophecy.

Now minutes before sunrise, I was doing everything I could to stay out of blind spots while the trucks kicked up snow all over my smaller vehicle. Between that and what was coming from the sky, I felt like I was caught in some surreal dream sequence in a bad eighties horror movie—as if any second, the trucks around me would converge, develop abominable snowman faces and we’d end up battling it out at a sleazy truck stop.

My phone rang, the screen lighting up the dark momentarily. It wasn’t one of my sisters’ distinctive tones, so I didn’t take the time to look to see who was calling. With the way one of the trucks kept swerving, someone else shouldn’t have been driving in the middle of the night, either. “Soooo not answering while I’m playing caravan with big rigs,” I muttered between clenched teeth.

But the ringing didn’t stop, which meant it still could be one of my sisters. I had two—we were triplets. Growling, I snatched up the phone, glanced at the screen and, though I didn’t recognize the number, I answered. “Yeah?”

The silence lasted long enough for me to roll my eyes.

“Hello! If you don’t answer, I’m hanging up. Who the hell is this?”

“Raven.”

My sister’s tone in just the one word made me instantly start looking for a place to get off the road. The shoulder was too iffy because of the slick snow and the water on either sides of the highway. “Gods, Raven! You’re lucky I answered. It’s freaking noisy here, and I didn’t recognize the number. Where are you?”

“Oklahoma.” Her voice sounded hushed, and I had to strain to hear her. “I found him. Found Vanir McConnell.”

Three days before, my sisters and I had discovered our egg donor—as if I’d call her Mom anymore—had been spending years researching kids on the internet—kids who could possibly be carrying god souls like us. What she planned to do with that knowledge was anyone’s guess. But with the way she’d been acting, it couldn’t be good. So each of us had picked a warrior to track down. We’d split up for the first time in our lives. Raven was talking about the guy she’d chosen. The one who apparently carried the soul of the Norse god Odin. We were pretty sure the wolves in the article our mother had saved were the big clue on which god.

Mine had something to do with crops, according to the tabloid story I’d picked—or my norn had picked. She’d squirmed like I’d set her on fire the instant my hand had touched that printed paper I’d found in our mother’s room. Crops could mean Freyr, and that particular god could possibly be the most important of them all. He wasn’t supposed to survive Ragnarok—like most of the important gods—but he played a huge part of the end of it, and if he did survive, he could have something to do with healing the earth after three years of winter had damaged it.

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