Gates

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  Jen and I decided that crossing the bridge would come later upon reaching the edge of the southern bank. We wanted to take advantage of the available cover. Call us unduly paranoid, but we planned to avoid using the street as much as possible. My ability to sense energy focal points was quiet for now, but since I didn’t know anything about how it worked, I treated it as a bonus, and not as our sole means of detecting threats. The old eyes and ears would have to suffice.

  The top of the ridge was covered with trees and thick vegetation, and enabled us to move along without showing our silhouettes against the skyline. The way down to the bridge was difficult, extra care being required to avoid tripping and taking the express route downhill. Probably breaking our necks. Our experience on how we met the Norsemen was enough.

  Near the road, we hid behind some shrubs and cautiously checked the approaches. Nobody appeared to have used it for long time. No tire marks or animal tracks could be seen. We made our way to the start of the crossing and with one final look, moved into the open. I glanced at Jen and when she nodded, walked to the bridge at a fast pace. Jen had her pistol out, while I had the M4 at the ready.

  Several steps into the bridge, I felt pressure on my chest again. It was strong and painful enough to stop me and bring me to my knees. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought it was a heart attack. Jen crouched beside me with alarm.

  "I'm okay," I said with difficulty, my labored breathing trying to force air into suffering lungs. "It's that sign I told you about. Something or somebody magical just arrived. I hope it's not wicked."

  Jen immediately looked back to where we’d come from.

  "There are three guys watching us from the road. And they're dressed funny."

  Shakily, I stood up and turned to see what elicited the dressed funny comment. Jen knew armor and medieval weaponry, being an occasional gamer who preferred fantasy role-playing games, or RPGs. As an aside, maybe that was why she found it easier than me to adjust to the new world order.

  Three men stood on the road as she described, one an old man with white hair and an eye-patch holding a staff, the second a tall, burly individual with red hair and beard. The third was of the same height as the old man, but looked young, clean-shaven, and had long black hair. They were dressed in leather breeches and woolen robes. Their boots were made of hide and had exposed straps up to the middle of the lower leg.

  I had to stop myself from laughing. The eye-patch gave everything away. At least for me who had read the adventures of the three famous travelers of Asgard - Odin, Thor, and Loki. Sadly, they seriously needed to up their game. Pazuzu knew enough to appear as a human dressed in the clothes of this era, a trait which I believed came from sufficient knowledge about us. His minions did have the time to invade, destroy, or occupy towns and cities after all.

  But the three before me obviously didn't have that chance. They were dressed as travelers from a distant past. I guessed they didn't have the opportunity to do field research, though their appearance in that location was highly suspicious. And irritating. I hated stalkers. And I never did have any regard at all for the deities of myth; I knew the stories and they were all arrogant and psychotic nutballs. Even Thor encouraged human sacrifices in his honor at one point.

  We’d already seen what Mesopotamian myth was all about—demons. Even their sky god, a supposedly more or less benevolent entity—based on the standards of demon-obsessed culture—had that atrocity, Lamashtu, as a daughter. And don't get me started on the Greek and Roman gods.

  "Hail, stranger," said the old man who I knew was Odin. Suddenly, I realized that I understood him. My hands instinctively reached for the necklace I was still wearing.

  No wonder they knew where to go, I thought. That Haakon was a wily one. I guess he got home after all.

  "My greetings, All-Father. What brings the Lord of Asgard, the mighty Thor, and the cunning Loki to this forsaken place?" I replied, deciding to cut through all the bullshit of assumed names and contrived back stories.

  The expressions on the faces of the three were comical to behold. Jen of course didn't understand what we were saying, but even she had to stifle a laugh at their reactions.

  "You had us at a disadvantage, Eirikr," Odin finally said with a grin. "I had mistakenly believed my guise of being Gangari would again be of use."

  "It would still work, I think, provided your attire and appearances are changed to something more appropriate for this time," I answered.

  "Won't you join us? We have need of your knowledge," he asked. His two companions still didn't say anything.

  "Gladly, All-Father," I said and walked with Jen toward them. How could I miss them even if they adopted other guises? Their forms glowed with power. You could dress Loki as Elvis and I would still suspect him of being a magical being.

  ***

  We retreated to the shade of some trees. Thor brought out food and drinks and laid them on a large piece of cloth. As we sat down, Loki was laughing to himself, something which caught Thor's attention. When asked why, Loki replied that the situation was embarrassingly funny, disguised Norse deities being discovered even before they opened their mouths.

  "I wondered about that, Eirikr. Could you explain how?" asked Odin.

  "I am a student of history, All-Father. Teachings dealing with this world's history include stories about your adventures, some of which involved the three of you. And the eye-patch was also conclusive of your identity," I admitted.

  The three laughed, with Thor suggesting a totally different plan next time—with his shape-shifting ability, Loki could appear as a maiden. When the laughter died down, Odin asked me to confirm what he had learned, which was but a rehash of what I’d told Haakon.

  The Norse deities were blind to what was happening, I abruptly realized. It took Haakon to wake them up. No wonder they made the trip in a hurry, probably using that jotnar portal and then their magic once they had crossed. A lot of jotnar must be dead.

  Then I felt as if somebody kicked me in the chest several times. I was thrown backward by the ethereal impacts.

  Not again, came my painful reaction.

  Through the hurt, I saw that our three hosts had stood up and rushed forward, now garbed in glowing armor. I didn't know who or what arrived, but I had a feeling it was Lamashtu. And she didn't come alone.

  ***

  I sat up groggily with the help of Jen. The three Norse deities were several feet in front of us and now geared up for battle. In the sky, a hundred feet away, was Lamashtu, now in her demon-goddess persona, astride a huge, long-necked skeletal winged form. Judging by the bone frame, I guessed it came from a flying subspecies of mušḫuššu.

  Alongside the demon-goddess was a trio of large winged demonesses, and mercifully, I couldn't make out their facial features. If my memory served me right, the three would be fiends of disease, the killing of newborns and pregnant women—Labassu, Labartu, and Akhkhasu. Inseparable powerful lieutenants of the Mistress of Disease. There were other demons—Abyzou for one—specializing in her repulsive and horrifying disciplines who were deemed her followers, but for now, only those three were present. But they brought with them a lot of help.

  I could see clouds of the vampire-like creatures in the back and hordes of dark beings on the ground approaching at speed. I wondered how she was able to track me; she didn't leave a mark on me nor was I bringing any token of hers. The only connection I could think of was the energy from the ziggurat, if the beam had a particular resonance attuned to her. It was, I had to admit, a distinct possibility since the ziggurat had to open a portal directly to her faction's domain.

  "Give me that mortal! He's mine!" I heard her shout.

  Unfortunately, the Norse deities couldn't understand her. I doubted if they knew anything about her dimension except for what I had told Haakon. And the arrogant tone really doesn’t work well when used to address other powerful deities, especially the three before her, who were deemed pride personified among those found in the Nordic panth
eon.

  Loki turned to me with a smirk.

  "Who is that horrid creature and what is she shouting about?" asked the Norse deity of mischief.

  "She's Lamashtu, a demon-goddess of another dimension. She's demanding you turn me over to her," I answered.

  "Why? Do you belong to her?" came Odin's query.

  "Of course not. Who in their right mind would want to be associated with that disgusting demon? She's a demon of disease, death, and specializes in killing newborns," I replied with disgust, though I intentionally added the last part.

  “Oh. I don’t like demons. Ugly, with no subtlety in their vaunted craftiness. An insult to the art actually,” remarked Loki.

  "Good. A battle then. Let's test our mettle against these strange and evil beings!" exclaimed Thor who turned to me and winked. "I thought there wouldn't be any fighting. It feels good to be in a proper tussle beside the All-Father and Loki. Just like old times."

  As Odin laughed, Thor suddenly flung his hammer, Mjolnir, against Lamashtu. The demoness escaped by quickly flying away, but the skeletal mount burst into pieces. The dark horde facing us surged forward.

  "Get back to the woods with your wife, Eirikr. This might take a while. We'll find you later," said Odin.

  Wife?

  I immediately grabbed Jen and ran across the bridge. If I was going to flee, then I'd rather do it in the right direction. The loud sound of lightning cracked behind me.

  "You might have to change your perfume. It now attracts difficult women," said Jen as we raced into the forest depths on the other bank.

  Epilogue

  Great Falls, Montana

  We had been following the raven for a day now. The bird had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. At first, we didn’t give it much attention and it did remain quiet as we took a break. But the moment we started to move, it gave out a series of raucous squawks and flew to our right where it alighted on a tree branch and waited for us.

  When we headed in a different direction, it flew to our front and irately berated us, blocking our way. Jen and I looked at each other. We tried to go around it, but again it obstructed our path.

  “Seems it wants us to follow it,” I said, warily watching the bird. There was no telling if it would suddenly attack. It was a large specimen of its kind and that beak looked sharp enough to poke one’s eyes out.

  The day before, we escaped Lamashtu’s attempt to grab me, with the help of a trio of Norse deities. As we clambered up the hill on the other bank of that bridge, heading west, the three were already fighting Lamashtu and her minions. Odin and Loki faced the oncoming horde of the demoness’s army, while Thor played with Lamashtu and her accompanying lieutenants. To put it more accurately, the thunder god tried to get to Lamashtu, but those three flying lieutenants of hers fought well enough to stop Thor.

  Odin had created a wall of lightning in front of them which also prevented any creature from crossing the bridge. His staff had turned into a spear, a weapon I believed to be Gungnir. It was thought to be unerringly accurate. Loki had a quarterstaff and concentrate on conjuring masses of jotnar—huge dire wolves, several giants, flaming creatures, and ice colossi. I had forgotten he was one of the best spellcasters in the Nordic pantheon and the monsters he added to the battlefield were a reflection of being a jotunn himself.

  We stopped halfway up the hill, trying to catch our breath, and had a panoramic view of the battle. But we could also see the rear of Lamashtu’s horde from our vantage position; there were too many. Giant creatures were coming up and dark spells now being hurled at the lightning barrier. I feared the worst. I was thankful those three stood up for me, though admittedly they may have had ulterior motives for doing so.

  But I wanted to help and had an alternative plan to ease the pressure on the three deities. It would undoubtedly add to the chaos and result in a three-sided battle, but I wagered Pazuzu and his minions would be more interested in crushing Lamashtu.

  “Pazuzu,” I called out softly.

  Several seconds passed. Then a massive dark cloud formed in the sky above us. I felt a rising pressure on my chest but no pain. I suddenly realized there was a difference in what I felt when called or conjured beings appeared, compared to unexpected visitations. At least I’d learned something out of the experience.

  As we craned our necks looking up at the bulbous dark mass, it started to form into demonic and other flying visual atrocities. Then the entire huge cloud rushed forward, its gusty passage swaying trees in its wake. It headed directly toward the center of Lamashtu’s army, part of it detaching and veering in the direction of the demon-goddess.

  “I believe that’s our cue to leave, Jen. I hate to be collateral damage,” I said as I helped her stand up.

  “You’re one of a kind, Mr. Weber. Creating such chaos down there. I do hope those three survive,” she remarked.

  “Thanks for the compliment, my lady,” I joked. “From what I know, they’ve been through worse and right now, I believe they’re having fun. Don’t worry about them, they’ll be fine.”

  As soon as we went over the heights and started on our careful and slow way down the slope, the only sign that a battle was going on over the hills was the unholy din of the unnatural sounds of otherworldly monsters fighting, disturbed once in a while by the thunder of lightning bolts.

  We made our way west and faint plumes of smoke in the far distance assured me we were going in the right direction. But the numerous spirals going up were also an indication that the location we were headed to—hopefully, it was Great Falls—was under attack. I earnestly hoped it was still standing.

  The problem arose when we found ourselves on flat terrain. It disoriented us and we found it difficult to get our bearings. It was tiring to be climbing the tallest trees we could find from time to time, and sometimes we couldn’t even see anything. That was when the raven showed up.

  I stood for a while, eyeing the raven which had the gall to stare back at me.

  “So, what do we do?” asked Jen. “It’s obvious it wants us to follow it. I hope it doesn’t get violent if we persist going in a different direction.”

  “I think we should follow it. I just remembered Odin had two crows as his eyes and ears. This bird might be one of them,” I commented.

  “Why is there only one?”

  “I don’t know. But let me try something,” I said.

  “Huginn?” I asked. That was the name of one of Odin’s ravens, meaning thought. The other raven was called Muninn, meaning memory.

  The bird remained silent.

  “Muninn?”

  It gave a loud caw. I turned to Jen.

  “I guess that means we follow it.”

  ***

  That night, the faint sound of military munitions could be heard; humans were still fighting, I thought with some relief. We immediately set off at daybreak. The raven was still with us, also staying around us for the night. The sound of firing was getting stronger. I was hoping to hear or see aircraft or helicopters, but I guessed that either we ran out of those expensive treats, or the people in charge had finally realized the futility of using them.

  By mid-morning, we could plainly see the smoke from burning buildings and other structures. More were in the background. Then we found a well-used hiking trail. Looking around, I found the raven was gone. We followed the trail, though we kept to the trees beside it. It went on for about half a mile and then we saw a deserted small building ahead of us.

  The trail intersected a road over which was a partially destroyed arch. When we reached it, parts of it were on the ground and still had legible writing. Words could be made out from the bigger pieces: Welcome, Campground, Great, and Montana.

  We were nearly there.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Active Member, Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA)

  A Goodreads Author.

  Writer of the following series - The ACCIDENTAL ARCHMAGE, ARCANUM ASTRAY / SUMMUS MAGISTER, PLANAR WARS, and MANUS DEI (The
Khamsa Chronicles).

  Soloflyte Worlds

  https://soloflyte.blog/

  Soloflyte Worlds on Facebook:

  www.facebook.com/embatara/

  emb.iwrite@gmail.com

  Fantasy and science fiction have always been my favorites, especially those stories from the era of dime novels and genre magazines, the time when both were still deemed fringe. Those stories spark the imagination and bring a reader to worlds and concepts beyond his reality—though I have to admit, reality is fast catching up with science fiction. Fantasy, on the other hand, is being enriched by today’s gaming and movie technology.