Relic: Spear

by Ben Zackheim

  “Don’t look so glum,” Freya said. “We have now. We may even have tomorrow.”

  “Big comfort,” Ronin said under her breath. She slumped in her chair and crossed her arms like a grumpy toddler. That would usually annoy me, but I felt like she looked. I could forgive her her dark mood.

  I caught our hostess’ eye. “Freya, you need to convince Odin that we’re your best chance.”

  Freya put down her cup. “I think you’ve misread some of the more subtle aspects of our discussion here, Tasty Tongue.”

  Ronin spit out her wine. She wasn’t used to Freya’s little nicknames for me. Neither was I, actually. “Odin is not thinking of the collective us. If he thought you could help him, he would not have reneged on his deal for one million worshipers.”

  “You promised him a million followers?” Ronin asked me while dabbing her jacket with a napkin. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

  “I told him I’d do what I could,” I mumbled. “So you’re saying Odin is fighting for his own existence.”

  “Every god for herself,” Ronin said. “Nasty.”

  Freya nodded. “More or less.” Freya noticed my displeasure. It was written on my face, as usual. She cleared her throat. “You may, to be clear, consider me an ally. Odin cannot stop me from making my own choices. He must focus his attention elsewhere, after all. But he would, no doubt, be a prize worth winning.”

  “Again,” Lucas said. He took a deep gulp of wine and refilled his glass.

  I leaned forward and made sure to meet her eyes. “Can you help us win him?”

  “Again,” Lucas mumbled again.

  “Yeah, we get it, Lucas. Again.”

  Freya sighed and took a deep sip of her wine. Okay, she guzzled the whole thing like it was a short inhale. I knew that move well. It meant she was buying herself milliseconds to think about her answer. “I’m not the force in his life I once was, Kane. But he may help me when he can.”

  “If he gets up on the right side of the shield,” I added, hoping my humor would translate. Freya’s stunning smile meant I’d gambled well.

  “I don’t get it,” Ronin said.

  “Shield as a bed. You know. Warriors carried out on their shields?” Ronin’s face stayed still. “Never mind.”

  Suddenly, the sounds of thumping paws grew louder until the dog broke through the double doors and pranced at Freya with a big smile on his face. He shook his head and slobber splashed all around the room. One especially large hunk of dog spit landed in my wine.

  “Look who’s feeling better,” Freya said in a motherly, sign-song tone. She placed her hands on the Tengu’s jowls and petted him like a pro. He sat down and started scratching at his neck with a hind leg.

  Until he spotted me across the table.

  “KaneMan!” he yelled. His booming voice slapped my innards around like a water bed at an orc orgy.

  Chapter 32

  “Hey… doggy,” I said.

  He leaped over the dining table and crashed into the chairs next to me. His momentum carried him and the furniture all the way across the room. The mess of fur and ex-chair slammed against the wall and we all clenched our teeth. That looked painful. But the mutt stood right up and ran just as fast at me again. I held my hands up. “Sit!”

  His claws popped out and dug into the floor. Once again, his momentum carried him across the room. But this time he left a long, deep set of scratches in the floor.

  He came to a sitting halt right in front of me. His long tongue slid out and dropped about three quarts of slobber on my feet. I tried to back away from him, but I slipped and fell flat on my back. He got down on his belly and flopped on his side, gently placing his massive head on my chest.

  Freya smiled, trying not to laugh.

  Lucas let out a sound like a pissed-off bird. His version of a chuckle, I guessed.

  Ronin could have used the moment to take a deep dig at my pride. But, surprisingly, she asked exactly what I should have already asked. “Fuck Odin. Can you help us find the spear?”

  “The spear?” Freya asked, cocking her head. “Do you mean the spear of Gungnir?”

  Ronin nodded.

  We all waited for some kind of reaction from the goddess. But her face was unreadable. Her stare didn’t falter from Ronin.

  “You are of the Adalgard family,” Freya said softly.

  “I am.”

  “Then you know the answer to your question. Your family has the spear, girl.”

  “First of all, don’t call me girl.”

  “Ronin!” Lucas yelled, horrified at her tone.

  “Shut up, demon, or I’ll circumcise that thing on your face. Second, Freya, no we don’t have it. We had a replica. I think my father took the real thing.”

  The goddess leaned back in her chair. She placed her hands on her knees and sat still for a whole minute. I stood up and found a chair that was in one piece. The dog followed, and laid down behind me.

  “Kane,” Freya said. “When I told you and your friends to search this house for weapons to take with you on your journey, what did you find?”

  “What does she mean?” Lucas asked.

  “When I was here last, Freya told us to explore the place for anything that could help us in the fight.”

  Lucas went wide-eyed. “A god gave you total access to their home? Do you have any idea what kind of a gesture that is? What did you find?”

  My memory of the night was unsullied. It was the night Dino died. “We found a black rose,” I said.

  “A portent of death?” Lucas asked. “That’s just about the last thing I’d want to find.”

  “My friend Dino was killed soon after.”

  “The black rose is a sign of inevitable death?” Ronin asked. I nodded.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Kane,” Freya said. “But his death had to mean something. You found what you were meant to find.”

  “Yeah, he saved our asses, so there’s that,” I said, annoyed. The dog picked up my tone and whined. “But beyond that, it was pretty pointless.”

  Freya touched her cheek. “Hm.”

  I leaned my elbows on the table. “What, hm?”

  “Did you take the rose with you?” Freya asked. I shook my head. “Well, my invitation to take what you wanted from our home was not met then. You found the rose, but you did not take it. The transaction is not complete.”

  “Are you offering it to us again?” Ronin asked.

  “Not to you,” Freya said. Her sour tone toward Ronin was new. Our raven-haired friend had made another enemy. “But to Kane, yes, the offer still stands.”

  I cut in fast. I needed to keep Ronin from pissing Freya off more. “Will we find the spear here?”

  Freya nodded her head. “It’s not here now. But if it’s what you need, then it may appear. If that is what fate allows.”

  “Fate,” I murmured. The mention of the word pissed me off. Tabitha spoke of fate like it was a television show she’d binged once. She loved it but she couldn’t give me any spoilers. That would just be wrong.

  “Yes,” Freya said, pulling me out of my mini hissy fit. “Fate.”

  “Fine. Thank you, Freya. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  “What do you think?” she said with a smirk.

  “Yeah, I should know better than to ask.” I sighed and stood up. “You guys stay here. May Lucas use your library, Freya? He’s my librarian. He’ll treat it with respect and use it well. He has some research to do.”

  “That’s fine, but be aware. Our library is not immune to the decay around us, Kane. You may use it, Lucas, but you may be disappointed. The pages do not hold the knowledge they once did.”

  Lucas bowed low. “I’m honored.”

  “What should I do?” Ronin asked.

  “Whoa,” I said without meaning to.

  Ronin gave me a cross look. “What’s that supposed to mean, Arkwright?”

  “It’s just, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever asked that quest
ion.”

  She thought about it for a few seconds. “Actually, yeah, you’re right.”

  Lucas gathered up his bag for his journey to the library.

  “You can stay here with Freya, Ronin.”

  “No thank you,” Freya and Ronin said at the same time.

  I stood and patted down my dusty clothes. “Fine. Then get some rest.”

  Ronin pointed at me and the demon. “How do I know you two won’t abandon me here?”

  “Because they’d pay dearly if they stranded you here with me,” Freya said with a crystal clear and menacing tone. The chill in the air made everyone’s nipples press through their shirts. Okay, not literally, but the vibe was distinctly nippy, with some ball-curling and sphincter-pinching thrown in.

  The dog let out a snore that broke the tension. Or, at least, splintered the tip of it.

  “What is your problem?” Ronin asked. I didn’t like the way she put her hand at her side — as if the Ruger were an option, in her mind.

  The goddess glanced down her nose at Ronin. “I’ll tell you my problem. I don’t appreciate the loss of a treasure we’d entrusted to your family. You failed in your duty. That is what is wrong. Girl.”

  I expected Ronin to lose her shit, most likely in the shape of wasting her single round on our one remaining deity ally. Instead, she clenched her hands and glared at the goddess like a hurt child. Then she turned and stomped out of the room. Like a hurt child.

  Lucas and I glanced at each other. I think he was holding his breath, too.

  “Okay, so, yeah, well, I’m going to go this way,” I said, gesturing to a set of tall doors behind Freya.

  “Library?” Lucas asked anyone who would listen.

  Freya pointed to another door on the east side of the room. But she didn’t take her eyes off of the door Ronin had stormed through.

  I slowly walked to my exit and turned to her. “She’s a hothead, but we need her.”

  “Two things, sweet Kane. She is safe under my roof. You are my guests. Second, you do not need her. You need to be rid of her.”

  I knew I wouldn’t get any elaboration, so I just nodded and left the goddess in the dining hall with the snoring beast.

  Chapter 33

  I don’t know why I chose the path I did.

  I found myself walking along the same bookshelves Rebel, Dino and I had taken weeks before. It felt like the door to the black rose room watched me approach. I’d been holding out some hope he was still alive, but the black rose is not a wishy-washy sign. It’s dead serious. My hope was that the rebar poking through his chest was just a flesh wound. Troll chests only housed minor organs. But Dino would have likely met his end some other way. He could have bled out right there. He could have been taken and tortured by the hemogoblins.

  I shook my head, trying to shed the dark thoughts. I needed to focus. If the spear was within our grasp, and if it was as important as Ronin (and my dreams) thought, I’d need to keep my head straight.

  I passed door after door until I started to get the sense I was on a fool’s errand. How was I supposed to find some fated weapon in a god’s house? Should I search every nook and cranny? Should I be picky about the doors I opened, or just have my run of the place?

  I walked up to a random door and felt the wood surface. It was cool to the touch. It was just a door, but a creeping anxiety passed through my gut and told me to look somewhere else. Anywhere else.

  I’d learned to always follow my instinct. No matter what.

  I backed off and kept on walking.

  Immediately, I sucked in some air. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath. Yeah, fuck that door.

  I wandered the halls carefully. I paid attention to how I felt, to what I thought about, to what attracted my eye. The ornate, heavy doors all looked like they could be hiding priceless treasures.

  It wasn’t until I glanced up that I found what I’d been searching for.

  A small door was cut into the ceiling high above. It wasn’t an attic door either. It was as heavy and ornate as the rest of them. Oak, from the looks of it. Its bright, brass knob was 15 feet above my head.

  I found myself wishing Dino was there. He would have reached up and opened the thing without a problem. I thought about going back to wake up the dog, but decided to figure it out on my own.

  Something waited for me behind that door. Hell, something waited for me behind every door. But the one in the ceiling was meant for me to find.

  Fucking fate again. We can’t see it coming, but we know it when we see it.

  I opened my Vault Portal without a problem and pulled out the sceptre. I felt like a child holding a bazooka. I had no idea the true extent of the thing’s power, but I’d seen hints of it and it terrified me.

  I ran my hands over the smooth wood, worn down by the centuries. The power it held inside wanted to get out.

  I pointed the staff at the doorknob above my head. Nothing happened. I got on my tip-toes and tried to tap the knob with the staff’s tip. I couldn’t reach. I pictured a ladder in my head. I pictured a ladder really, really hard. The sceptre sparked to life and burned my palm. I dropped it and blew on my stinging hand.

  Apparently, the sceptre wasn’t meant to be my own personal hardware store.

  Fair enough.

  I pulled out my Glock and shot the handle. Ronin would have been proud of me. The door dropped open, revealing a bright blue sky above me. It cast daylight into the hallway. At first, I thought I’d discovered a hatch to the roof. Then I remembered we’d arrived at night.

  I wasn’t under the Paris sky.

  I shook the doorknob of the closest door. Maybe I could find something tall enough to get me up there.

  “Who’re you?” a gruff voice said. A furry creature stood in the ceiling door, backlit by the bright sky behind him. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew that body type.

  It was a dwarf.

  “Kane,” I said with my best polite tone. “What’s your name?”

  “None o’ yer business, yeh scurvy dew beater. Yeh shoot me hatch open like a gobermouching fop doodle and ask me for a polite how-do-you-do? Saddle-goose!”

  “Better than being a quisbying muckspout!” I yelled back. Yeah, it was risky to shout at the guy who had both the high ground, and the ability to pull me up. But I ran into a bunch of dwarfs on the India job a few years back. They liked a good swearing contest.

  The shadowy figure stood still. I couldn’t see his eyes but I could feel them on me.

  The hall filled with his laughter.

  “Whatta ya want, boy?”

  “I need to get up there. You have a rope?”

  “Yeah, I have one right here. Hold on a second.” He made to walk off, but then stopped and crossed his arms. “No, I don’t have a rope, yeh drate-poke. Yeh think I walk around with rope so I can pull strangers up from holes in the ground?”

  “All right, all right! Here.” I lifted the sceptre up to him. Any dwarf worth his beard could easily lift a human male. I held onto it tightly. I didn’t want to have the most powerful relic on the planet to get yanked away by a stranger.

  “Is this an offerin’ yer offerin’?”

  “No. It’s a staff. Pull me up.”

  “I’ll pull yer boots up over yer ears, yeh fopdoodle.”

  “Please!”

  He uncrossed his arms and reached through the ceiling doorway. He pulled hard. Hard enough to get the sceptre out of my grasp. It was pure luck that a knot in the wood caught on my palm and gave me enough traction to hold on. I slipped through the opening.

  I rolled onto my back and gripped the relic tight to my chest.

  The dwarf stood and dusted off his butt. He turned to me and crossed his arms with a puffed-out chest. His long beard was filled with beads and his earlobes were the size of my hands. They were covered in ornamentation. Everything from tattoos, to rings, to holes, to embedded gems.

  It was a sight to see. But it didn’t compare to the view behind him.


  Chapter 34

  The horizon was a cross between a view of Italy and Colorado.

  In the near distance were rolling green hills, dotted with olive trees. In the far distance were snow-capped mountains against a sea blue sky. The combination of colors and textures and vast vista took my breath away.

  The dwarf chuckled. “Pretty, ain’t it?”

  He wore leather armor over battered clothing. His hairy arms and face were covered in scars and cuts. He reached his hand out to me. I shook it, knowing we were about to engage in some good, old-fashioned sizing-up. His grip was firm, but he was going easy on me. I tightened my hand around his fingers and he met my enthusiasm with equally enthusiastic (and painful) intensity.

  He laughed and let go. I was on his good side now. Now I just had to be sure I didn’t mess anything up. Dwarfs were notoriously fickle acquaintances, and deadly-loyal friends.

  “Come,” he said and he waddled past me. He approached a small hut. The wood structure was built into the side of a grassy hill. “Come on, then!” he yelled.

  I followed him into his home. It was a cozy place, lit by the bright day outside and a few well placed candles. The walls were made of meticulously laid stone. But the thing that really caught my eyes were the piles of books. Towering stacks packed the corners. Some piles leaned so heavily I don’t know how they stayed upright.

  “You’re a reader,” I said.

  “Not much else to do around here,” he said.

  “Where is here, anyway?”

  “Home,” he said. His tone told me he wouldn’t elaborate on that. He pointed at the Glock in my holster.“Can I see the weapon?” He was testing me. He wanted to see how much I’d trust him.

  “You know how to use one?”

  He frowned. I was pretty sure I’d just messed up our fresh goodwill. He smirked.

  “I know how to explode the steel ball out of the steel rod, but I don’t know how to aim it fer shit.” He laughed with his entire belly.

  I handed the Glock to him, barrel down. I tried not to show him that I was ready to outdraw him with my other Glock if he made a bad move.