CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Leaping to his feet, Phoenix sprinted the length of the hall with Marcus pounding only a few steps behind.
“Stop!” Loki shouted, “or I’ll kill her!” He pressed his knife into Jade’s throat. A scarlet trickle slid down, showing bright against her white skin.
Phoenix skidded to a halt only metres away. He looked at Jade. She stared back, green eyes wide. She’d already lost two lives in this level and couldn’t afford to lose any more. He had to save her without letting her die again. An idea hit. These were war-gods. Surely...
“My lord Odinn,” he yelled, not taking his eyes off Loki. “I ask for the right to justice by combat! We have proved ourselves innocent of the charges falsely laid by Loki and his advisor but he has wronged us and I will be avenged.” That ought to be suitably dramatic for a hall full of Norse gods. Phoenix grinned nastily at the astonished look in Loki’s eyes.
“Granted!” Odinn roared, thumping the end of his javelin into the floor.
The pantheon of gods sat back down, breathlessly awaiting a battle.
Loki shoved Jade aside. She stumbled, falling into the arms of a guard. Loki held out his hand. A guard slapped a sword into it. He sheathed his knife and dropped into a fighter’s crouch, circling left toward Phoenix.
Phoenix glanced about for help. Surely someone would hand him a sword, too? Marcus and Jade both struggled in the grip of guards. No-one rushed to his aid. Great. Bare hands against a sword. What the hell was he thinking? Oh well, he squared his shoulders, at least with his aikido training, he had some chance. Hopefully. He really didn’t want to lose another life. It hurt too much.
Loki glided closer. Phoenix watched closely, trying to judge how he would attack. These people favoured broadswords, which meant slower, sweeping attacks. That might work in his favour.
Sure enough, Loki came at him with a war-cry, committing himself to a two-handed, overhead strike. Perfect. Phoenix allowed his aikido reflexes to take over. Instead of stepping away or dodging, he stepped toward Loki. Swiftly, he slipped inside and under Loki’s descending arms. He put his back hard up against Loki’s gut, grabbed an arm and dropped. The god sailed overhead as Phoenix fell to his knees and let go.
There was a moment of shocked silence as Loki crashed heavily on his back and slid across the stone floor.
Phoenix jumped up, measuring the distance between himself and Blódbál, lying near Odinn’s throne. Too far. Loki rose, shaking his head. He rotated his shoulders and neck. Damn. People weren’t supposed to get up so fast after being thrown like that. Well, Loki wasn’t exactly ‘people’ in the ordinary sense of the word. This called for something more drastic.
The god came at him again, more warily this time. He’d learned his lesson and now began jabbing at Phoenix almost like a fencer. A broadsword wasn’t the ideal weapon for this technique and even a god’s arm would tire after awhile, hopefully. He just had to stay out of reach until it did.
So they danced around the room, with Phoenix spinning, twisting and trying to manoeuvre closer to where Blódbál lay, just out of reach. Twice the tip of Loki’s sword caught in his clothes, tearing them and scoring across his stomach. Both times the crowd gasped. Blood dripped and Loki’s grin became triumphant.
At last, the opening Phoenix waited for appeared. Loki overreached himself just a fraction. Stepping aside and turning fast, he grabbed Loki’s sword-hand and helped him overbalance just a little more. Then, with a quick twist of his hips, Phoenix folded Loki’s wrist back and threw him in a move known as kotagaeshi.
The god fell heavily, hopefully with a painfully dislocated shoulder or wrist. Phoenix held on to the hand and yanked the sword free. Putting his foot on Loki’s neck and the tip of the sword there too, Phoenix grinned down at the god.
“Yield.”
“No!” Loki snarled.
From under his clothes he pulled a dagger and jammed it to the hilt into Phoenix’s calf.
Someone screamed. Several people yelled in anger.
Pain lanced through his leg and Phoenix staggered back, dropping the sword as he overbalanced. Loki sprang lithely to his feet and snatched the blade up again. He stalked closer, bloody dagger in one hand, broadsword in the other, murder in his grey eyes. No dislocation then. Man, these guys were tough!
Phoenix steadied himself and tried to put weight on his foot. The leg refused and the pain blinded him. Loki’s blade had severed the hamstring. He forced himself to stand straight and smile. Loki frowned, glancing at the blood pooling now on the floor beneath Phoenix’s foot. His frown vanished into a gloating gleam. He advanced. Phoenix stood his ground – he had no choice.
“Phoenix, catch!”
A shrill, familiar voice pierced the fog of pain. Brynn! The Breton boy held something – Blódbál! He threw it. The blade arced through the air. With a roar, Loki launched himself at Phoenix.
Too late. Phoenix snatched the hilt and parried Loki’s blow at the last second. Strength, power and exultation flowed through his blood from the sword. It warmed his body like a hot drink on a cold day. Vigour pulsed back into his limbs. Tentatively, he put weight on his injured leg, surprised to find he could. The injury was either gone or irrelevant, he wasn’t sure which.
Heady and glutted with power, Phoenix crossed swords with Loki in a flurry of blows too quick to analyse. Blódbál sang in his heart, called to his mind, enticed him toward victory. Phoenix let the sword take over, flicking it in to slice Loki’s skin once, twice, three times. The blood that spattered the floor was now a god’s life-offering.
This was too easy. Phoenix grinned madly, quite enjoying the bout now. He couldn’t lose with Blódbál in his hands. Loki snarled, his face contorting, shifting, morphing into the familiar black wolf that had harried them through the woods. Razor fangs snapped at Phoenix’s left arm. Latching on they sliced through to the bone. Phoenix screamed in pain.
In desperation, he twisted and hacked awkwardly at the wolf. Loki released his arm and skittered away, his claws rattling across the marble. He shifted back to his human form. Picking up his sword he strode casually over to where Phoenix knelt on the blood-slippery floor.
Phoenix sucked a deep, ragged breath. Heaving to his feet, he set himself for the next attack. Arrogant in his belief of victory, Loki smiled, baring reddened human teeth in a barbaric, frightening display. The god swung his sword in a furious flurry of strikes that Phoenix barely managed to deflect. Even with the sword’s magic, his body weakened through loss of blood. He had to end this and fast.
At last he saw an opening. Turning aside, he sliced across Loki’s arm. Black leather parted and red showed. Loki dropped his sword from useless fingers. Phoenix lunged, stopping the point of his blade just short of Loki’s exposed throat.
“Yield,” he repeated, panting.
Loki glared. “Never!”
His eyes rolled up as his body twisted in a logic-defying, purple-blue shimmer. Startled, Phoenix backed away. Loki grew…and grew. Too late, he remembered that Loki’s true form was of a giant. Blódbál’s song faded as cold logic replaced battle fever.
Jade, Brynn, Truda and Marcus appeared by his side, all staring up at Loki’s towering shape. At a gesture, Loki’s sword leapt back into his hand – and grew to match his size. He now wielded a blade fully twelve foot long.
“Run!” Phoenix advised the others.
They turned – and faced a tired, one-eyed old man.
Odinn looked at them with an expression of weary regret in that single eye then switched his gaze to the looming darkness of the god of mischief. He thumped the end of his spear on the floor once. The sound echoed hollowly around the great chamber.
“Enough,” he said quietly but his voice blanked out all other noise.
The world stopped. A strange, muffled silence fell on Gladsheim. Loki paused in mid-strike, his booted feet clumping only faintly on the
stone floor. Everyone watched their king. No-one spoke.
Odinn waved a hand. Most of the gods and goddesses left the room with regretful, backward looks. Shortly, only Thor, Truda, Loki and the four companions remained with the king of the Norse gods.
Odinn sighed and limped slowly back to his throne.
“Loki, why must you continually stir up trouble in Midgard and Asgard?” Odinn’s face showed paternal regret – like a father who’s child has been brought before the principal once too often. “It was you, who stole my granddaughter and hid her in Albion, wasn’t it? And also you who set the wolves on these mortals and the trolls on Hrothgar’s people? Why do you wish for Ragnarok?”
Loki sneered and slouched over to sit at his ease in a chair nearby. Phoenix did a double-take. The god had reverted to human size. His body and clothes were unmarked, whole. Phoenix wished his were the same. He kept Blódbál to hand, just for its pain-numbing effect and wondered if he’d pass out soon.
“What can I say, my king?” Loki shrugged. “I’m the God of Chaos. Ragnarok is the ultimate Chaos; a chance to start afresh with a better world and a better ruler. Besides, Thor annoyed me. I wanted to teach him a lesson.”
Phoenix started to limp forward but Jade and Marcus grabbed his arms and held him.
“Let them sort it out,” Jade whispered, tearing at her shirt and winding strips around his dripping arm and leg.
Truda, however, was under no such restrictions. She stomped past them to stand before Loki with her hands on her hips. She wagged a finger at him.
“You’re a bad, bad man, Uncle Loki. First you stole me from my bed then you made the nice Druids keep me and they all got killed by the Romans. You got poor Hrothgar killed and then, when I finally got home you put my friends and me in prison. You’re not my friend any more, you hear me! I hate you!” Overwrought the god-child stamped her foot then burst into tears and threw herself into her father’s arms, sobbing.
Loki raised one dark eyebrow. “I’m devastated, I assure you.”
Thor stepped forward, his face thunderous. “I’ve had enough, too Loki. You’re my father’s blood-brother and we’ve put up with a lot from you but taking out your anger at me on a child and mortals is beyond acceptable. You’re no longer welcome in my home.” He picked Truda up and held her against his huge chest, patting her fiery hair soothingly.
Loki yawned. “Again, I’m distraught. Not to be allowed to babysit those hell-children of yours ever again. Oh me, oh my, how will I cope?”
“Perhaps this will not bother you either, my brother,” Odinn’s soft voice cut in. “You are henceforth banished from Asgard and Midgard for a full millennium and a day. You may not come to any place of the Norse gods or man for that time or until Ragnarok does descend upon us – whichever is first.”
Loki turned an insolent look on his king and bowed his head. “Very well, old man, the petty politics of Asgard bores me to tears anyway. Just remember, though, if Ragnarok does come first, don’t look for me to fight alongside the Æsir in that final battle for the end of the worlds. You are no kin of mine any longer!” With that scornful, ringing declaration, the god of mischief and deceit turned on his heel and walked away.
“Wait!” Jade’s clear voice spoiled his masterful exit. “What happened to that man – Zhudai? What was he doing here?”
Loki stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. Everyone looked around, only now noticing Zhudai was, indeed, missing. Marcus swore imaginatively. Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief. He was so not ready to face the ultimate badguy yet, even with his new sword.
The God of Chaos raised his brows in cool hauteur. “I have no idea. He came a few days ago with a warning that you were on your way to return Truda and a charming plan for how to make her homecoming more fun. Oh, the wolves, Grendel and setting Grendel’s mother on the village were all his ideas, too. I would have let the wolves eat you. He wanted you two alive.” He pointed at Jade and Phoenix. “I don’t care who he is, where he is or where he came from. He can rot with the rest of you mortals.” He gave them a stiff, shallow bow and left the hall without looking back.
EPILOGUE
“Do you believe him?” Jade asked the others.
It was the next morning and Truda was off with Thor, celebrating her birthday by bringing Spring to Midgard. Ragnarok had been averted. The companions sat comfortably around a long table in Truda’s home, Bilskirnir. After Loki’s departure Odinn had wearily dismissed the charges against them, healed Phoenix’s wounds and sent them all to Bilskirnir with a careless wave of his hand. There, Thor’s wife, Sif, fussed over Truda and then over all of them. They slept in wonderful beds, bathed luxuriously, and ate until they were stuffed and sleepy. Sif even managed to trim Jade’s singed hair neatly, although it was a lot shorter now.
“Who?” Phoenix asked, yawning.
Brynn attempted to slice an apple in half in mid-air with his hand-me-down sword. Phoenix and Marcus had been teaching him swordplay while Jade replenished her strength and her herb supply in Sifs garden. Unfortunately, the only real result was Sif’s annoyance at the number of bruised apples lying around.
“Loki,” Jade sighed, sorting herbs without really paying attention. “Do you believe that he only just met Zhudai and doesn’t care where he is?”
Marcus looked up intently. Nearby, Brynn picked up the bruised apple and tossed it in the air again.
“No idea.” Phoenix shrugged. “Anyway, it’s not really important now. We still have to complete this level, remember?”
“I know but it doesn’t seem right to just steal the hammer after all this.” She shook her head, frowning at the bunch of aconite in her hand.
“WHAT?” Thor’s booming voice made them all jump guiltily.
Phoenix’s hand dropped to his sword. Jade gasped as Thor shouldered his way into the room and bore down on them. Truda was right behind him, hurt and anger clouding her big blue eyes. Thor thumped a massive fist on the table, making the herbs bounce.
“You are trying to steal Mjölnir, just as Loki said? Guards!”
“No, no!” Jade jumped up and ran to the thunder god. “No,” she pleaded, feeling sick that he and Truda thought they’d go through with it, now. “Please listen to us. Truda, please?”
Thor hesitated, looking down at his daughter. Truda poked out her bottom lip then nodded reluctantly. Thor waved the guards away and the two sat down.
Feeling like she was once again on trial, Jade paced the floor. She outlined their first two quests, prudently leaving out bits that related to coming from another world. Phoenix nodded at her encouragingly, so she hoped he was in agreement with her. There’d been no time to consult, after all.
“So you see,” she spread her hands, “we can’t continue without your hammer. With the hammer, we’re supposed to go to Egypt and release the goddess Anuket. She’s trapped in a tekhen there. That’s all we need it for. Then we can go on to the next quest, and the next and finally we can kill Zhudai, the one who’s behind all of this.” Jade finished, looking hopefully at Thor. “We’d return it straight away, I promise,” she added in a small voice.
There was a long silence as Thor glared at all four. They each met his eye as bravely as they could. He drummed his thick fingers on the wooden table and stared at his daughter for a long moment. Then he slapped the palm of his hand on the table, startling them once more.
“By Odinn’s eyepatch, I’ll do it!” Thor grinned, his bushy red beard quivering and his blue eyes glittering with anticipation. “It sounds like you’ll only need it for a week or so. With Loki gone things should be pretty peaceful for awhile. I can live without Mjölnir for that long.” He looked down at Truda again, stroking her bright hair. “Besides, I do owe you a favour for bringing my daughter safely home. Without her, Midgard would have been locked in winter and thousands of gods and mortals alike would have died in the ensuing battle. Anyway, Hrothg
ar would only have given my gift-sword to a true hero. Here.”
He got up and unhooked Mjölnir from his belt. Striding over to Marcus, who was nearest, he held the short-handled hammer out.
Standing, Marcus hesitantly reached out and grasped the handle. Thor let go. Marcus yelped as the hammer smashed to the ground, cracking the granite floor. Thor laughed uproariously at his own joke. Still chuckling, he unbuckled his belt and stripped off his iron gloves.
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist. You’ll need Megingjörð – the belt - and my gloves. They give you the strength to lift the hammer, boy.” Thor explained, still laughing as Marcus strained to lift the weapon.
The belt and gloves shrank, becoming a perfect fit when Marcus pulled them on. He wiggled his fingers, raising his eyebrows at the flexibility of the iron. Reaching down, he yanked at the hammer, staggering back as it lifted easily now. Brynn giggled.
Marcus turned to Phoenix. “You should carry it.”
Phoenix shook his head and patted Blódbál. “Not a chance. I’m sticking with my little friend, here.”
“Jade?” Marcus held the hammer out toward her.
She backed away, hands behind her. “Iron gloves? I don’t think so. It’s all yours.”
Marcus glanced at Brynn who grinned cheekily and shook his head. “You’re the warrior. I’m just a thief, remember? I can barely handle a normal sword, let alone a magic hammer. Besides,” he shrugged, “whoever heard of a thief giving things back at the end?”
Sighing, the Roman nodded, accepting the burden. Thor patted him on the shoulder and led him to one side, explaining how to handle the weapon.
Jade drew the others to Truda. “I guess it’s time for us to say ‘good-bye’,” she said sadly. She’d had become quite fond of the girl. It had been nice to have another female along.
Truda threw her arms around here and squeezed tightly. “You’ll take care of Brynn for me? He picked the lock to let me out of jail, y’know.”
Jade smiled and tweaked one red braid. “Of course we will but he has a habit of taking care of us, really. We’d be lost without him.”
Brynn came up, blushing furiously. Truda hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He flushed even more. Phoenix rescued him by tapping Truda on the shoulder. The girl looked at him doubtfully for a moment before wrapping her arms around his stomach and hugging him, too.
“Thanks for bringing me home in time to balance out the seasons again like I’m s’posed to. You take care of yourself, ok?” She frowned up at him like a little mother.
“You take care of yourself too, brat,” he said. “This must be what it’s like to be an older brother, huh? It’s not so bad. You’re alright kid.” He gave her an awkward, one-armed hug.
Truda sniffed and nodded. Without looking back, she ran to Marcus, gave him a flying hug and dashed out the door, bawling.
Thor looked after her with an indulgent smile then came back with Marcus to join them. He rubbed his hands together and grinned broadly.
“Right then, off to Ægyptus is it?”
They nodded, looking at each other doubtfully.
“Stupid place, that.” Thor turned away, waving at them to follow. “Full of arrogant gods with the heads of animals and the brains of them, too. It’s the heat: makes them idiots.” He snorted and shook his shaggy, red head. “Now when you’re done, all you need to do is make some small sacrifice to me, call my name and I’ll know you’re ready to give Mjölnir back. In the mean time,” he shook a warning finger at Marcus, “look after it. I’d hate for that thing to fall into the wrong hands.”
They followed him for some time, through the twisting stone corridors of Bilskirnir. Finally, Thor led them outside. Three servants waited, holding their horses and all the gear. Jade blinked. She’d forgotten about the horses.
Thor smiled. “Ready then?”
“Umm,” Jade began. “How do we get there?”
Thor chuckled and pointed toward a stone gateway in his garden. It looked remarkably like the three-stone doorway they’d stepped through in Stonehenge. Extremely like, in fact.
Phoenix eyed it then looked around. “Another Spring Equinox ceremony, I suppose?” He sighed, his shoulders twitching, probably at the thought of more Roman arrows.
Thor waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. Those Druids have no idea. You don’t need a ceremony to use their portal,” he winked, “just timing. It only opens at the Equinoxes. Stupid mortals. This portal, however, links up with Midgard anytime and anywhere you want. Just say where you want to go, walk through and there you are.” He walked up, laid a thick-fingered hand on it and said “Ægyptus” in a clear voice. Then he nodded with satisfaction as the liquid-looking surface shimmered into existence. “I know the Elves use those tapestries of theirs but this has so much more dramatic flair, don’t you think? Makes a good garden ornament, too.”
The group was silent a moment.
“You mean that whole Spring Ceremony thing back in Albion was a waste of time and people!?” Jade couldn’t help the surge of anger and grief that welled up in her heart at the thought of the sacrificed druids and destruction of Stonehenge.
“And we didn’t have to ride up that bloody rainbow bridge to Alfheim?” Phoenix chimed in.
Thor shook his head, laughing. “You rode over Bifrost? Hah! I’d say Freyr just wanted to scare you. Well, there you go then.” The god nodded genially at the stone doorway.
The four companions exchanged grim glances. Thor’s scornful laughter at the Druids brought home, once more, the precarious nature of their quest. They were at the whim of the gods, whatever magic forces pushed them on and an archvillain who wanted them dead. As soon as they stepped through the portal, it all started again – but harder.
Jade caught Brynn’s eye then Marcus’. “Are you sure you two want to do this? You can back out now and use this thing to go back to your homes, if you want.”
For a second, Brynn’s young face showed a flash of longing and fear. Then he squared his thin shoulders and shook his head. Marcus stepped forward and laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“We’re with you,” he said firmly.
“Let’s go then.” Phoenix grabbed the reins of the nearest horse.
He waved thanks to Thor and marched purposefully toward the glistening doorway. Brynn, Marcus and Jade followed quickly, leading their mounts.
Thor watched a moment until first they, and then the shimmering surface vanished then shook his head and walked away. “What fools mortals are.”
.....
Nearby, a lean man in severe black robes emerged from the deep shadows of an oak tree. He gazed at the empty stones for a long time then smiled a particularly mirthless, unpleasant smile. Zhudai touched the grey granite and murmured softly. When the glistening portal appeared, he sent a last, contemptuous look at Thor’s castle...and vanished through the stones.
A taste of things to come…..
Book Three: The Tekhen of Anuket