"No, I have friends that are fighting with me." I looked at him hopefully, remembering Oona's request for more weapons. "Do you have any weapons that might be good for fighting a goddess or draugrs or whatever other demonic jerks we might go up against?"
He smiled at that and stood up. "I do, actually, have just the thing."
Samael went over to the wall that was lined with shelves. On a lower shelf that came to his waist, he moved an antique totem to the side, revealing a small touch screen. He tapped in a few numbers, then put his hand down to scan his print.
The screen let out a happy bing of recognition, and a second later a thin concealed drawer slid open, revealing a hidden cache of ancient weapons, carefully cushioned on black velvet.
"This is Tyrfing." Samael pointed to the first sword, one with a long blade with a golden hilt. In the center of the pommel, a triquetra symbol had been engraved. "This sword has been endowed with a power so that it never misses a target, no matter who swings it."
He moved down the line, pointing to the next sword. It was shorter than the first, with a beveled blade, and both the blade and the hilt appeared to be made out of a singular piece of a black obsidian-like material.
"This is Kusanagi," he went on. "This is a very powerful sword, forged inside a dragon, and it's believed to control the wind."
The next sword also had a black blade, but the hilt was a deep red, and the cross guards were shaped to look like flames coming out of the grip.
"This is Dyrnwyn, and legend has it that if whoever wields this sword has a quest that is pure, the blade will burn," Samael said. "The user will remain unburned, but the flames will destroy the enemy."
"But what if their quest isn't pure?" I asked, since I really had no idea how this particular sword might feel about what I was planning to do to Tamerlane.
"Then it's just a regular sword, albeit with a very powerful blade," Samael said, then moved on to the next weapon.
Unlike the first three, this was not a sword. It was a mace with a long bronze staff with a rather gruesome-looking spiked head made of iron attached by a chain.
"And this is Sharur," he said. "It's enchanted so that it will fly great distances to its owner, should its owner need it to, and it has a very precise aim."
"You think these will be able to kill whatever the hell is brewing down in Kurnugia?" I asked.
"If any weapons on earth can help, these will be the ones to do it," Samael said. "They're all enchanted, and most were gifts from the Vanir gods, back in times when they still deigned to interfere with mortal matters."
"So it's all right if take them?" I asked, glancing down at the cache of invaluable weaponry before looking back at Samael. "I can't guarantee that I'll be able to return them, though I'll try as hard as I can."
His eyes were grave. "I told you that I'd do whatever it took to bring that bastard down. If that means losing a few ancient trinkets in the process, that is a price I am more than happy to pay."
"Thank you."
Samael went to retrieve something to carry the weapons in, so I wouldn't be walking down the street with an armload of swords like some kind of maniac. He came back a few moments later with a long black case with padded cloth sides, so it appeared similar to a duffel bag, only longer and more rectangular. Then he helped me carefully load up the weapons.
"Is there anything more I can do for you?" he asked.
I shook my head. "You've given me weapons and a direction to head in. That's more than enough."
"Let me know if there's anything more I can do, anything at all."
He walked me to the door, but when I was about to leave, I hesitated. The bag of weapons weighed heavy on my shoulder, but there was something nagging at me that I couldn't let go of, no matter how hard I tried.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked. "It's not about the weapons or Tamerlane."
He spread his arms wide. "You can ask me anything."
"Was Marlow kind to you?" I asked him awkwardly.
He thought for a second before answering. "I believe that she was, but I suppose it depends on your definition of kind. Are you asking was she soft and affectionate with me? As much as she could be, but honestly, that wasn't nearly enough."
"But you still cared about her."
"That's the funny thing about love," he said. "It doesn't wait for perfection--the heart loves who it loves, exactly as they are, faults and all."
"Do you..." I hesitated, since it felt uncomfortable to ask, but I had to know, so I pressed on. "Do you think she loved you?"
He smiled then, but there was a pained edge to it, so it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't think any of us could ever truly know what was in Marlow's heart, not even her."
FORTY-FOUR
"What on the good green earth is that?" Quinn asked, wrinkling her nose at me. Her long silver hair was pulled back into a ponytail as she stood outside the Tannhauser Towers, leaning against her black hovercraft. It was rebuilt from a vintage sedan, replete with suicide doors, rounded fins, and a heart-shaped grille.
Oona had come out ahead of me, and she was already loading up Quinn's trunk with all her thaumaturgy gear, along with an overnight bag crammed with as much clothes and necessities as she could fit into it.
I hobbled out of the apartment complex with a backpack filled with my personal stuff, the padded case of weapons, and a pet carrier containing my twenty-plus-pound wolpertinger, along with a bag of his food.
"This is Bowie," I said, setting a few things down on the curb before I accidentally dropped everything into the canal.
"I know who Bowie is, but you can't possibly think it's a good idea to bring a rabbit along," Quinn said, picking up my bags so she could put them in the trunk.
"First off, he's not a rabbit," I corrected her. "He's a wolpertinger. Second, we're not bringing him with, but I can't exactly leave him at home by himself when we don't know if or when I'll ever be back."
"So where is he going?" she asked.
"We have to make a pit stop."
Once we had the car loaded up, I hopped into the backseat so I could sit with Bowie, while Oona took shotgun. Bowie had never been fond of traveling, and I calmed him down by sticking my fingers through his cage and stroking his nose as I directed Quinn on how to get to Galel's Garage.
She parked in the tiny parking lot beside the auto body shop and offered to help me carry everything, but I didn't want to deal with the awkward interactions between Quinn and Jude, so I told her that I could handle it myself as I hurried to gather Bowie and his things together.
When I got out of the car, Jude Locklear was just coming out of the garage. His coveralls were unbuttoned at the top, revealing a thick black tattoo across his chest. His dark hair hung down in waves behind his ram's horns.
"Malin." He smiled at me as I approached. "I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"
"I've been better, honestly," I said as I set Bowie's carrier down near his feet. "My mom's dead, and I have to leave town to take care of some business."
His face fell. "Oh, no. I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Well, believe it or not, you're one of the few people in the world that I actually feel like I can trust, so I'm going to ask you a really huge favor," I said.
Jude eyed me warily as he asked, "What is that?"
"Can you take care of my wolpertinger, Bowie?"
He puffed out his cheeks before exhaling and put a hand on his chin. "I've never taken care of a wolpertinger. I don't really know anything about them."
"It's a lot like taking care of a cat," I assured him. "Bowie's nice, and he's litter-box-trained. I brought a bag of his food, but he also enjoys carrots and cucumbers. I have the emergency number for his vet on his carrier, so you can call them if you have any problems. And you can look up anything else you might need to know about wolpertingers online."
Jude crouched down so he could get a better look, and Bowie sniffed the door. "He is mighty cute
."
"He is," I agreed as Jude scratched his nose.
"All right," he relented and straightened back up. "If it will help you and make you feel better, I'll take care of him."
"Thank you. It really will." I was so grateful I almost hugged him, but I was all too aware of Quinn's prying eyes behind me in the car.
"How long are you going to be gone for?" Jude asked.
"It should only be a few days. But if I don't come back..." I stared down at Bowie's cage and cleared my throat. "Maybe try to find him a good home, if you can't care for him."
"If you don't come back?" Jude's voice was tight with worry, and he stepped closer to me. "What's going on? Do you need me to come with you?"
"No, I think I've got this covered." I flashed him my most reassuring smile. "Just take care of Bowie."
"Okay," he said reluctantly, and I turned to walk away. "Hey, Malin, you always were my favorite customer."
"I know." I smiled back at him. "Goodbye, Jude."
With that, I jogged back to the hovercar and jumped into the backseat. Quinn drove off, while I sat staring out the window, wondering if I'd ever see Jude or Bowie again.
"So that guy's not your boyfriend?" Quinn asked, and I looked up to see her watching me in the rearview mirror.
Her eyebrows were slightly pinched, and her slender lips were pursed together. No doubt her mind was on the kiss she and I had shared last night, the one that conspicuously neither of us had addressed.
"Nope. He's just a friend," I said as I settled back into my seat.
"Now where to?" Quinn asked.
"Down to Hegewisch to pick up Asher," I informed her.
Before I had left the Evig Riksdag, I had texted both Quinn and Asher to see if they were up for a revenge trip down to the Gates of Kurnugia, and when they'd both given me their enthusiastic yeses, I told them to be ready ASAP. Quinn agreed to pick us all up, since she had a car while I just had a luft, and Asher texted me his address.
"Oh, so Ash is coming with?" Quinn asked, and the tension lines deepened across her forehead.
"Yeah, why wouldn't he? Tamerlane killed his mother, too," I reminded her.
"I just thought ... I don't know." She sighed, and there was an unmistakable sadness in her voice. "No, it makes sense. We need all the help we can get."
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know what Quinn had figured out, but she definitely knew there was something between Asher and me. Which was just great. I didn't even know exactly how I felt about my ex-girlfriend or my current sorta-beau, and now we were all going on a road trip together to avenge our mothers and save the world.
FORTY-FIVE
When Quinn pulled up in front of the tiny, cozy little house that Asher shared with his grandmother, Asher was already sitting on the front steps, waiting with a duffel bag beside him. It was warm, almost exceptionally so for October, and he wore a pair of jeans with an old T-shirt that pulled taut over his arms and chest.
"Hey," he said as I walked over to greet him.
Behind me, Quinn and Oona were waiting in the car, arguing about what music we were going to listen to, and it suddenly hit me as Asher stood up, smiling sheepishly at me, that this was my first time I'd seen him since we'd slept together.
His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he stared down at me with a look in his eyes, one filled with such warmth and affection, it actually made me feel strangely gooey inside, and I wondered if anyone had ever looked at me like that before.
Quinn's amorous gazes tended to be hungry and demanding, but Asher's were soft and gentle. Quinn wanted to throw me up against a wall, and Asher wanted to pull me into his arms. The problem was that I wanted both at different times.
"How are you doing?" Asher asked.
"Excited. Terrified. Nauseous."
He laughed softly. "Yeah, me, too."
I was about to ask him if he was ready to go when the front door to his house opened behind him. His grandmother, Teodora, strode out with her arms folded over her chest and a rather severe expression on her face.
"Is that it?" she asked as she slowly descended the steps toward us, her white hair ruffling in the wind.
"Is what it?" Asher asked, glancing around.
"That's your whole team?" Teodora motioned vaguely toward the car, where Quinn and Oona were bickering loudly about what constituted rock music. "Your whole plan to defeat this draugr?"
"Amma, we already talked about this," he said.
She shook her head adamantly. "No, I talked about how I didn't want you to die at the hands of the same madman that killed your mother, and you didn't listen to me!"
"This isn't just about Mom, not anymore," Asher said, trying to keep his cool in the face of her distress. "If an immortal is allowed to escape and live on, everything could fall apart. The whole world could be undone."
Teodora gestured wildly. "So let it be undone, then."
"That doesn't even make sense," he said. "If the world ends, that includes me and you, Amma. I'm going to die either way."
"Maybe, but maybe not. And if you do die, you'll be here with me." She reached up, touching her grandson's face with tears in her eyes. "We'll be together."
"I have to do this," Asher insisted. "But I'll come back. I promise you."
She exhaled a shaky breath, then turned her attention toward me. "I don't hold your mother's actions against you. Asher has told me that you're kind and you share his strong sense of justice. I hope that he is right, and I am asking you to succeed in protecting him, where your mother failed with my daughter."
I swallowed hard and somehow managed to speak around the growing lump in my throat. "I will do my best."
"Wait here one moment." She held up a finger toward Asher and me, then started back toward the house. "I'm going to get something."
"What's the holdup here?" Quinn asked, leaning over Oona to yell out the car window.
"Seriously?" Oona asked. "He's saying goodbye to his grandma. Give him a second."
Quinn sat back down in the driver's seat, but I could still hear her arguing with Oona. "We've only got thirty minutes to make it to the Overland station, so if we're gonna catch it, we gotta go."
"I've always liked you, Quinn, but you can be very pushy," Oona commented.
A moment later, Teodora came rushing out of her house carrying a large shield. It appeared to be made of a heavy dark iron with a Norse symbol of protection engraved in the center.
"Here," she said, handing it to Asher. "This was my grandmother's shield, and her grandmother's before her, and so on. We call it Rok, and it can withstand most any supernatural attack. Since I'm too old to be going with you, this is the only way I can still protect you."
"Thanks, Amma," he said, and she kissed his cheek before he grabbed his bag and dropped it in the trunk.
Asher got in the backseat beside me and looked out the window at the receding figure of his grandmother, all of us knowing that this might very well be the last time he ever saw her. I reached over and took his hand, and when he looked back at me, he seemed a bit relieved.
"Let's do this, then," he said.
We arrived at the station for the NorAm Overland Express with only seven minutes to spare, which led to a frantic run through the depot and up to the raised platform. The Overland was neither a train nor a bus, but rather an odd hybrid that made travel much faster and easier.
The double-decker carriage straddled several lanes of the highway, with a three-meter gap underneath large enough to accommodate the average hovercraft. It ran on rails located on either side of the highway, with a fixed route similar to that of a train, and it could reach speeds as high as 125 miles per hour.
Quinn led the way, up to the second story of the double-decker carriage, which was slightly less crowded than the main-level cabin had been. Fortunately, there were several rows of seats still open, so we would all be able to sit together.
Quinn put her bags up in the overhead bins that ran between large skylights in the roof. I
took a seat by the window, and Oona, in her infinite wisdom, took the seat next to me, thus sparing me from the awkward situation of being stuck directly between Quinn and Asher.
Asher finished loading up the bags, while Quinn excused herself to use the restroom located at the back of the carriage.
"You know, there's a saying," Oona said, giving me a knowing look. "You don't shit where you eat."
I gaped at her for a moment, since I hadn't told her anything about my recent romantic entanglements with either Asher or Quinn. She'd known about my previous relationship with Quinn, obviously, but when she asked anything about my feelings toward her now, I always denied them.
But Oona knew, and really, it had only been a matter of time. Somehow, Oona always managed to figure things out. Maybe that was one of the consequences of being best friends with someone for over a decade. She knew me better than I knew myself, and I couldn't hide anything from her.
"I don't know what you mean by that." I feigned ignorance, since now didn't seem like the best time to be having this conversation.
"It means," she said, lowering her voice, "don't go hooking up with both of the people you need to help you complete your mission."
"I didn't," I insisted, which wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't entirely the truth, either. "It's over with one, basically, kind of, and ... okay, so I accidentally maybe started something with the other. But this is important. We're all focused on what we need to do, so nothing else matters. Not even who is sleeping with who."
"What are you talking about?" Asher asked, taking the seat on the other side of Oona.
"Nothing," Oona and I replied in unison.
FORTY-SIX
The Overland horn let out two long bleats as a final warning that we were about to take off, and I settled into my seat for the long ride south. Just as the express lurched away from the station, a hulking figure with a familiar face lumbered up the stairs--Atlas Malosi, one of Samael's personal guards.
As soon as he saw me, a relieved grin spread out on his face, and he walked down the aisle toward us. He hurriedly shoved his suitcase in the overhead bin, then rather clumsily slid past the other passengers in the row so he could take the seat directly in front of mine, right by the window.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him.