Spine rigid with chest-tearing agony, I gasped as I swam to consciousness. My eyelids heavy weights, tears squeezed from the corners, and the torment dragged me under.

Breath-stealing pain greeted me anew the next time I woke, rubbing at dried crusts gluing my eyes closed. Either my sight didn't work or there was no light. Gods, everything hurt, my muscles and joints a wretched suffering. Before I figured out my surroundings, again, the throbbing robbed me of my senses.

With my teeth gritted at the intense ache within my chest—a pulsing black hole devouring my soul—I was slower to open my eyelids this time. After a few blinks, my outstretched hand became visible in front of my face.

 There was a little light now. 

How much time had passed? When I tried to shift positions, my body felt bruised. Even moving my fingers sent spikes of pain flaring. Cautiously, I stifled a groan. Oh, god... had they beaten me while I was unconscious? 

Carefully probing with my hands, I couldn't detect any specific injuries on my skull or chest. Why did I hurt so much? My heart had a tenderness like it had been held in someone's fist and squeezed until it almost burst. As I went to lift my head, I hissed. Damn it to hell. Spikes of pain stabbed at my temples and pounded with every heartbeat.  

A sudden kick. 

Gods, my baby! 

Gasping, I ran my hands over my abdomen. My son's second kick had a relieved breath exploding out of my lungs. At least he seemed fine.

With a groan, I managed to push myself to a sitting position. I was in a rough stone-walled room with a dry dirt floor. In addition to musty earth, the distinct odour of urine came from my left. A faint yellow light trickled in through the barred door. 

A prison cell of some kind?

Rustling noises and breathing echoed in the gloom. There were others in here with me. As I squinted, I made out unmoving bodies and some that blinked with wide eyes, looking around. Women, all pregnant women like me.

A jolt of realization had my fists clenching. 

And kids. They'd fucking taken kids. 

The children were the unconscious forms, sprawled on the floor in heaps. Like they'd been dumped and left in whatever position they'd landed.

Memory returned in a cacophony of pain, sound, and fear that brought a metallic taste to my tongue.

The Wild Hunt attack. The troll. The hellhounds, redcaps, and headless dullahan. Heart thundering in my chest, I shuddered as I recalled a huge white stag with eyes of flame and an old cruel-looking man on an odd-shaped black stallion.

Something was wrong with my leg. Abnormally heavy, pain radiated up from my foot. 

Had I twisted it? Broken it? Narrowing my eyes in the faint light, I made out the shape of some kind of dark iron cuff around my ankle. The last memory I had from the attack was that old man coming towards me with it, and then intense searing agony when he snapped the metal on my leg. With my fingertips, I probed the cuff and tried to create some illumination to see it better.

Nothing happened. No light.

My pulse pounding frantically, I tried to summon water.

Nothing happened.

What the fuck? My abilities were gone or blocked, or something!

Don't panic. I took a few shaky breaths before smoothing them out.

"Loki?"

No response to my mental call and my breath froze.

"Loki!"

Again, no answer, and that warm glow of our soulmate bond in my centre was gone. Instead, pain was a vise around my heart, an agonizing emptiness. Clenching and unclenching my hands, I focused on my breathing.

Don't panic.

It must be the fucking cuff, whatever it was.

But my armour remained in place. I'd called it up before the cruel bastard put the cuff on me. Quickly, I patted my body down. Damn it. My throwing knives and sais were gone. 

Reaching up, I still had the Valkyrie communicator clipped to my ear.

"Kara? Mist?" I murmured.

Dead silence.

Must be out of range.

"Heimdall?"

No rainbow bifrost lights to swirl me away.

Where was I?

Nothing around me gave any solid clues. Despite the pain, I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly out my nose. I couldn't give in to panic or fear. Not now. A few more measured breaths, and I considered what I knew. 

Somewhere on Alfheim, most likely. My attackers wouldn't risk staying on Earth long. Led by dark elves, the Wild Hunt was Unseelie Sidhe, part of Svartalfheim, the Winter Realm of Alfheim, from what Queen Frigga had taught me. 

Damn, but I wish I'd asked her more questions. 

Growing up thinking I was human hampered so much of my knowledge of the immortal world. I pinched the bridge of my nose. It's not like I'd known I'd get kidnapped, but still... focusing my learning on Asgard and not the rest of the Nine Realms had clearly been a mistake.

What did I know? 

Very little, unfortunately. Ironic, given I'd probably been born on Alfheim. Yet I had no memories of my life here. Of course I didn't. Mom—still weird to think of her as my adoptive mom—said I'd been barely a year old when given to her. But my birth parents were here somewhere. If Manannan Mac Lir was to be believed, my father was a Summer Realm elf. 

Although, who was my mother? An elf for certain, but what kind? I leaned my head back against the cool stone wall behind me, closing my eyes and rubbing at my aching chest.

Of course, Manannan also warned me about the Unseelie, the dark elven relatives on my father's side. If he was right, and I had no reason to doubt him when Loki vouched for him, then I couldn't trust my uncle or paternal grandparents. Even without Manannan and Loki's warnings, I wouldn't trust the damn Unseelie. They'd fucking kidnapped me.

What did the dark elves want with me? 

Manannan had been adamant that I shouldn't let them know I was pregnant. Why? What was the Sea God worried about? My fingers ran through my hair, pushing the long tangled strands from my face, and I drew my knees up. I wished I'd asked him more questions. Based on my fellow captives, the Unseelie had some unsavoury use for pregnant women and children. Unease rippled down my spine. Slavery? Worse? I couldn't imagine it would be anything good.

In the gloom, my fingertips patted the floor, searching for something, anything, useful to pry this damn cuff off my leg. It looked like there was a keyhole. Gods, if only I was one of those women who wore bobby pins in their hair. With the loss of my knives, I had nothing useful to pick a lock. My questing hands found dirt, little stones, and absolutely nothing helpful.

Raised voices echoed off of the stone walls. Two voices argued, and as they got louder as they approached, I made out some of their words. At least I retained the ability to understand all languages, even if I couldn't sense my goddess powers.

"I don't care what Crom and Cernunnos want. They kill them too quickly. It's a waste. Let them expend it on the mortals. I want the immortal. We'll make better use of her," said the first voice in the harsh cacophony of rock tumbling down a hillside.

My breath caught, fists clenching. They were talking about me!

"But I thought Queen Mene wants this one. Didn't Arianrhod say she recognized her when she was brought in?" said a second whinier, higher pitched voice.

Arianrhod! Does she know I'm her granddaughter yet?

"I don't care who she is. I'm taking her and you aren't going to tell them. We'll keep her hidden deep in Nidavellir, powering our forges for as long as she lasts," the deeper voice insisted.

Keys rattled against the metal door and it clanged open. Two huge shapes entered. The women that were awake whimpered in fear, flinching away.

Not giving in to my racing pulse or chill washing over my skin, I glared at the hulking forms and grabbed dirt and pebbles in my fists. I might not know where Nidavellir was exactly, but powering their forges didn't sound like a long future for myself or my child. In the low light, they reminded me of the troll that had snatched me. Huge, with dark grey skin, they had ugly misshapen faces, small beady eyes, and straight dark shaggy hair.

After looking around, they headed right for me. 

I kicked at their hands, threw the dirt and pebbles, and desperately tried to fight, despite the throbbing pain and weakness of my limbs. I would not make it easy for them. They slapped at my feet, catching them in their large hands. As I twisted and turned, struggling to free myself from their grasp, they dragged me out of the cell on my back.

Damn it. Without my powers, they were just too strong. While one took my feet, the other picked me up with an arm wrapped under my armpits. Another hand was slapped over my mouth, ignoring my attempts to bite him as they carted me down the hallway. 

Since my struggles were getting me nowhere, I paid attention to my surroundings. Maybe I'd see something to help me escape. I had to escape. There was no way I was dying here.

After several turns and a good thirty minutes of walking, we came to a vertical shaft that dropped straight down. They didn't even hesitate. My heart leapt into my throat as they stepped right in. Yet we didn't fall. Instead, it was some kind of cushion of air.  We descended what had to be the equivalent of at least two hundred floors before stopping in mid-air to step into another hallway carved into the stone. The air was hotter at this level.

Again, we walked through tunnel after tunnel for over an hour, making more turns than I could remember before reaching a second vertical shaft. This time, we descended about half the distance, then exited into a corridor. A short walk, maybe twenty minutes, and we passed through an archway into a massive cavern. Heat and sulphur filled my lungs, and I coughed against the hand still covering my mouth. Streams of molten lava flowed in channels with stone bridges over them, bathing everything in a red glow. Our pathway criss-crossed with others and eventually reached the far wall that held archways at various points.

Passing through one, we entered what appeared to be a suite of rooms and a workshop. Tools lie on bench tops and forges glowed against one wall. They carried me to an empty black stone wall and dropped me to the floor.

A stab of pain jolted up my spine when I hit the hard surface, and I couldn't hold back my yelp.

Quickly, one of them grabbed my wrist and attached a cuff that dangled from the wall on a chain. It was connected to some kind of contraption with dials. A second cuff was snapped around my other wrist. Once he had me secured, he bent to my ankle and removed the iron cuff.

The intense ache in my chest dissipated, but it wasn't entirely gone. Only muted. Instead of the rush of my abilities, only the faintest trickle of power returned. And I still couldn't sense my bond with Loki. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back. No, I wasn't willing to give them the satisfaction. Instead, fists clenched and jaw tight, I glared my hatred.

The creature looked at some dials and grunted, seemingly pleased, before walking away.

When I stood, I couldn't reach the contraption on the wall. My effort to summon enough air to lift me barely stirred the air.

There was adequate length in the chains that I could sit or lie, but again, I couldn't reach the nearby tools on the benchtops. With a snort of disgust, I sat on the stone floor with my back against the wall, then watched the two creatures move around the workshop for hours. 

Tired of being ignored, I called out, "Who are you? What are you?"

"Rude! What do you mean, what are we?" said the one with the higher pitched voice. "How can you be an immortal and not know what a dwarf is? Seriously? Are you stupid?"

The other one rolled its eyes. "I'm Fjalar and that's Galar."

"No, I'm not stupid, but I am a relatively new immortal." I wanted them to underestimate me and think I was weak. Maybe they'd be careless if they thought I was no threat.

"Get used to your new life. You won't be leaving, ever," Fjalar said in a flat tone.

"Why? What do you want with me?" I asked, even as I dreaded the answer. Still, it was better to know if I was going to escape. I needed to come up with a plan.

"Nidavellir runs on our planet's core and vitality supplied by living things. We can't tap too heavily on the planet's core or we'd kill our home. Instead, we rely on living things like you. Your energy now powers our magic," Fjalar stated.

"Nidavellir? The home of the dwarves is underground on Alfheim?" I guessed the planet, but figured it made sense.

Galar nodded. "We'll take good care of you, much better than the Winter Court would have. You can have a long life with us. The Unseelie would have expended your life's energy in ritual sacrifice. Crom has a thing for pregnant women. Says it gives a bigger power surge." He rolled his dark, beady eyes before adding, "Not sure why he took you, but as an immortal, you're worth more than that. You'll continue recharging and supplying energy as long as we keep you alive. It's such a waste to kill you with the mortals."

Trying to hide my disgust, I played along. "I guess I'm grateful you took me, instead of leaving me with the other captives."

Fjalar put a jug of water and a mug on the floor beside me, telling me to help myself. My throat burned from the heat and harsh fumes in the air. If they really wanted to keep me alive, it should be safe. I poured myself a glass and drank deep.

"I'll bring you some food in a little while," he said. "If you behave, we'll get you a bed."

Wow. A fucking bed. With effort, I kept my sarcasm to myself. 

Galar set a chamber pot down with a leer. "I'm sure you'll need that at some point. Wouldn't want you making a mess that we'd then force you to clean up, right?"

Oh, lovely. Disgusting pig. 

Despite my revulsion, I maintained my neutral expression and nodded in agreement. I wanted them thinking I was grateful. The more things they gave me, the more I had to work with to plot my escape.