“Loki,” Jade glared at the god.
The god bowed, his slick, dark hair glinting in the torchlight.
“Indeed,” he agreed, “but you have the advantage of me. I would like to tell my bloodbrother, Odinn, just who he will be passing judgement upon. You are...?”
“Don’t tell him!” Jade warned. “If you give your name to your enemy, you give him power over you.”
Loki smiled ironically and bowed again. “Old magic. You are wise,” he peered closer at her face, his eyes widening slightly, “and you are a Light-elf; no, a half-breed,” his admiration turned to contempt. “Perhaps I should let Freyr deal with you.”
She started. If he sent her to Alfheim, she could beg her father to intervene for Marcus and Phoenix. Loki’s next words dashed her hopes. The god came closer, tapping one finger on his chin.
“No, I think not. Someone else has plans for you. Now tell me,” he smiled charmingly, changing subjects before they had time to question him, “when you are brought before Odinn to answer for your crimes, what defence will you put forward?”
“What are we charged with?” Phoenix challenged.
Loki ticked points off his fingers. “Abduction of Thrudr; almost causing the end of the world; conspiring to steal Mjölnir; oh,” he flashed them a grin, “and the murder of Hrothgar, king of the Svears – a close friend of Thor’s I understand.”
“What!?” Phoenix started forward. Jade and Marcus leapt to restrain him. “We did not kill Hrothgar!”
Loki shrugged. “So you say but he is dead and here you stand, carrying Blódbál into battle. Damning evidence to my thinking. How will you defend yourselves?”
Phoenix opened his mouth but Jade pulled him back and faced Loki herself.
“Why does it matter?”
“I only wish to apprise Odinn of all the facts before he passes judgment,” Loki replied suavely.
Jade drew herself up to her full height, looking down her nose at him in the haughtiest manner she could manage. “You are the master of lies, Loki. No matter what we say you’ll twist it somehow. We’ll tell Odinn ourselves. We have a witness.”
Loki raised one thin eyebrow. “Do you mean...” He turned his back to them. There was a strange sound, like wind rushing; then a brief purple-blue glow. When he turned to face them again, they all gasped in shock.
Truda now stood where Loki had; her sweet, childish face twisted into an expression of evil delight. “Oh yes,” she piped, batting blue eyes, “I’ll be sure to tell Grandpa Odinn exactly how you took me and hid me away for months. Then, when the Romans chased you out of Albion, how you had to give up your plan to ransom me and you decided that pretending to rescue me would give you a chance to steal my pa’s hammer instead.” Truda/Loki smiled impishly then skipped out the door before turning to simper at them again. “By the way, I have the real Thrudr quite safe. All I need to do is string this little charade out for one more day. It will be her birthday tomorrow and if she doesn’t perform her duties then the fun will really begin. Ragnarok. Yay!” She giggled as the guards slammed the door shut and left them in shadows again.
“That went well,” Phoenix commented into the inky darkness.
Jade sniffed. “Such a typical bad-guy. Too much monologuing. Honestly.” She blinked in the darkness. There were blue spots dancing in front of her eyes from the torchlight.
“I wonder what he meant when he said ‘someone else has plans for you’,” Marcus speculated aloud.
“I wonder how we’re going to defend ourselves when our chief witness is not who Odinn will think she is,” Phoenix retorted.
“Maybe Brynn will bring Truda...” Marcus began.
“You heard what Loki said,” Phoenix interrupted. “He has the real Truda locked up somewhere.”
“I also heard Jade say Loki is the master of lies and the god of mischief and chaos,” Marcus said reasonably. “He could be lying.”
“I sure hope so.” Phoenix grunted, sounds of rustling cloth betraying his restless movements. “Why is he doing this?”
“It must have something to do with Ragnarok,” Jade mused bringing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. “He wants her out of the way so it can happen. That’s why he stole her in the first place and that’s why he disguised himself as a wolf and tried to stop us from getting here. For some reason he either can’t or won’t kill her outright but he’s doing everything he can to bring the world into chaos - Ragnarok - by preventing her from being here on time. Now that we are here, he’s trying to stop Truda from doing her job.”
“What sort of idiot deliberately engineers the end of the world?” Phoenix scoffed.
Jade sighed. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really make sense but it’s the only explanation I can think of. He is the god of Chaos and Mischief, after all. Maybe it’s just a big game to him. Like when he herded us toward the troll - he could have set the wolves on us but he must have thought it was more fun to get the troll to do it.”
The friends were silent awhile until Phoenix groaned again. Cloth rustled and leather creaked as he moved. “Right. Enough lying about. Is there anything you can do to get us out of here, Jade?”
“What?” She’d been deep in thought. “No, sorry. I’m still not recovered from Thor’s lightning. I used what strength I had to heal myself. I need my herbs to do anything more.”
He grunted. “What about that book of spells Ásúlfr gave you?”
“I’ve only had time to read a few of them,” she admitted regretfully. “There might be a few I could use but I still need to restore my own strength first. Sorry.”
Phoenix sighed in the darkness. “Oh well, it was just wishful thinking. Guess it’s probably my turn to get us out of trouble, anyway. Back to lying around for awhile then.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She wasn’t sure if Phoenix was saying she hadn’t done enough to save them now; or if he was obliquely complimenting her on her past efforts. She was too exhausted to try to think about it now, anyway. Lying down on the floor, she curled an arm under her head and closed her eyes.
Sleep eluded her. The last few days had been so emotionally-charged that Jade actually welcomed the time to think. Dark-silence was a blissful change from constantly rushing around like lunatics. She wriggled to try and get more comfortable on the hard stone floor and wondered why lying in a cold, dark, stone cell seemed oddly familiar. Just as she was, finally, beginning to drift off, the door flew open and a guard growled at them.
“Odinn summons you to judgement, mortals. Get up.”
“Oh man, already?” Phoenix grumbled. “I’d just got to sleep.”
“The gods do not wait for mortals! If you don’t appear, you’ll be automatically found guilty. Get up!”
“Alright, alright!” He muttered turning to give Marcus and Jade a hand up. “So much for ‘innocent until proven guilty’.”
“That’s a legal idea pretty unique to what we call ‘civilisation’” Jade said ironically. “In fact, if we’d lost the war against Napoleon we’d probably have the French system of ‘guilty until proven innocent’. I’d say these feudal ancient Scandinavians are going to think the same way.”
“You mean they assume we’re guilty and we have to prove our innocence?!” Phoenix sounded outraged at the idea. She couldn’t help laughing at his shocked expression as they preceded the guard out the door.
“’Fraid so,” she said, trying to sound casual. In her chest, her heart felt like it was about to explode. She had no idea how to prevent a guilty verdict.
“Do we dare ask what the penalty is if we are found guilty?” Marcus asked.
The guard ahead must have heard, for he turned and sent them a knowing, unpleasant grin.
“Death,” he sneer. “Not a warrior’s death by blade, either – Valhalla is not for the likes of you. You’ll die in the old way – garrotted and buried in the peat bogs as a sacrifice to Odinn and a warning to others who meddle in the gods’ lives.”
Jade drew a long, shuddering breath, trying to calm her racing blood. Phoenix was silent but his eyes were troubled.
He leaned over and murmured into her ear, “Now would be a good time to spring that plan I just know you’re waiting to surprise me with.”
Feeling helpless and thick-headed with exhaustion, she shook her head numbly. “I’m sorry, Phoenix, I can’t think of anything.”
“We will just have to tell the truth,” Marcus said, raising his chin.
“Great,” Phoenix threw up his hands. “The Truth against the Master of Lies and an assumption of guilt. I don’t like our odds. Give me a sword and I’ll show them where they can stick their truth.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Once again, the travellers found themselves in the great hall of Gladsheim. Dusty beams of afternoon sunlight poured in through the high windows, falling on a strange scene. The room had been converted into a sort of courtroom, with chairs and benches lining two sides. Odinn’s throne was placed at one end and three stools stood forlornly out in the middle, facing the king of the Gods. This time, there were more than just a few gods in attendance – every seat was full. The entire Æsir and several of what Jade called the Vanir – other kinds of gods, evidently - were present for their trial.
Phoenix gazed at the assembled pantheon in awe. They were all shapes and sizes. Many were giants, thirty feet tall, or half- and quarter-giants. Not just gods, either; goddesses were in attendance, too. Both sexes were muscular, beautiful and barbaric-looking in iron-studded leather; cloaks and long, blond or red hair.
Loki was one of the exceptions. Dressed entirely in black leather, with his dark hair slicked back, he strode into the hall like he owned it. Finding a front-row seat, he raised an eyebrow at the current owner, who grumbled but moved away. Sitting gracefully, Loki sent Phoenix a cool smile and proceeded to inspect his fingernails with supreme disregard for his fellow deities.
Their guard prodded the three companions until they unwillingly sat on the stools provided. Several gods and goddesses muttered, frowning and pointing as the accused sat down.
“Silence!”
All three jumped as Thor’s enormous voice boomed across the hall.
“All rise for Odinn, King of Asgard!” He growled, glaring at anyone who took too long to get up. There was a quick scraping of chairs as everyone stood.
Phoenix hastily hauled Jade to her feet when she didn’t react swiftly enough. A rapid look at her face told him she was far from recovered. The circles beneath her green eyes were dark bruises and her expression almost vague. She blinked slowly, frowning again. For a moment he wondered if she’d somehow managed to find some more of that dratted lily plant. Then he dismissed the thought as unworthy. She was just exhausted from the effort of being killed twice within three days and protecting him and Marcus.
Odinn walked slowly into the room. Surveying the assembled beings with his one, bright blue eye, he eased himself onto the throne and leaned back.
“Begin,” he said quietly. Somehow his voice carried to every ear.
Thor rose. He stood at least fifteen feet tall and had to be almost half that across the shoulders. The man – god – was enormous. In one massive, iron-gloved hand he gripped a war-hammer and on his head perched an iron helmet. Much of his face hid behind a reddish beard. When he moved, though, it was with surprising grace and silence. He moved like a warrior; a fierce animal restrained only by his intelligence. Frankly, he was scary.
“Father,” he boomed again, “these mortals dared to abduct my daughter and hold her hostage – putting our whole world in danger of the Chaos that is Ragnarok. They have also conspired to steal Mjölnir!” He brandished the hammer over his head and the crowd of deities muttered angrily. “And...” he waved for quiet, “and they murdered my battle-companion and friend, Hrothgar, king of the Svear people. Here is Blódbál, the very sword I gave to Hrothgar in friendship.” Thor hooked his hammer onto his belt and drew out the sword. It looked like a toothpick in his huge hands. He gazed sorrowfully down at it and then placed it on a table close beside Odinn’s throne.
His great head snapped up and he glared at the three companions.
“For any one of these crimes, they should be sacrificed.” Facing his father again, he drew himself up to his full, imposing height. “Pass judgment now, father, for there is no doubt of their guilt.”
Odinn nodded slowly. Phoenix felt his heart leap into his mouth. Sliding his eyes sideways, he tried to see if there was any possible way they could escape. Guards stood close by on all sides and the exits were similarly blocked. His heart sank.
The king of the gods opened his mouth.
“My lord,” Jade stood up. Phoenix gaped up at her. Suddenly, she looked fully alert and perfectly fine; in fact, better than fine. Blinking, he noticed her clothes and skin were inexplicably clean; her hair tidy and unsinged; her Elven features oddly accentuated. What the...? Then he realised. She’d drawn the dregs of her energy to cast an illusion spell on herself. For a moment, he was stunned at her sheer vanity. What did it matter how she looked? Then it dawned on him that she was right – snap judgments were made on how people looked. Even the gods had to be guilty of that. Right now, Jade looked like a true, noble Light-elf, not some half-dead homeless nobody.
“My lord, I humbly request you grant us the right to speak,” Jade repeated as the gods’ voices swelled in outrage.
“Who are you to make such a request, mortal?” Odinn asked coolly.
Jade dipped him a deep curtsy but kept her head high. “I am Jade, daughter of Freyr, lord of the Ljósálfar.”
The tumult that arose from her statement was deafening. Loki started half out of his chair, his eyes narrow with fury. Odinn waved her forward and nodded. Now Phoenix understood why Jade had refused to tell their names. Names did have power, even if it wasn’t always magical. Did they have a hope now? Was Freyr an important enough name to drop here? Could he be called as a witness?
Phoenix found himself digging his nails into his palms. He wanted to jump up and yell at them all; force them to believe. He gripped the chair seat hard, pinning himself down so he wouldn’t wreck everything with his stupid impulsiveness.
Jade rode out the furore with queenly hauteur, ignoring the audience as she glided forward into the centre of the room. Phoenix had to admire her guts but he was afraid she might collapse in the middle. He had a feeling she was running on sheer adrenalin now.
“My lord,” she drew a breath, obviously considering her words, “there is no evidence to support my lord Thor’s accusations. Hrothgar himself, in gratitude for services rendered, gave Blódbál to my companion.” She had to shout to make herself heard as the room again erupted into talk. “Hrothgar was killed by a troll, not us. Freyr and all of Hrothgar’s village can attest to that. Thrudr is safely returned to you and will tell you herself that we did not abduct her.”
Beside him, Marcus stiffened and gripped Phoenix’s arm tightly. He sat rigidly upright, staring at Loki.
“What is it?” Phoenix whispered.
“That man, sitting next to Loki,” Marcus jerked his head. Phoenix saw a sallow-skinned, slender man leaning in to speak with the god of mischief. With his face turned away, only the back of his dark head could be seen. He wore a close-fitting black cap with decorated tassels sticking out on either side and his long black hair braided into an intricate knot at the back. His floor-length robes of black were decorated with gold embroidery. He seemed strangely out of place amongst the fur-and-leather clad gods.
“What about him?”
“It’s Zhudai!” Marcus hissed.
At that moment, every god and goddess in the room leapt to their feet, shouting denials and angry comments. Phoenix looked up to see Jade standing in a beam of sunlight, pointing dramatically at Loki’s calm, smiling figure. Obviously she’d just named him as Truda’s kidnapper and it wasn’t being well-received. Jade seemed to be doing what she could, so Phoenix turned his attention back to Marcus.
She’d probably sweet talk them better than he would anyway. Where the heck was Brynn when you needed a silver tongue?
“Are you absolutely sure?” he growled.
Marcus sent him a look of complete, unshakeable certainty. Phoenix held up a hand in acknowledgement. The deities resumed their seats and Phoenix could now see their arch-enemy again whispering into Loki’s ear.
“Damn. That changes things – for the worse, I might add.”
“Agreed. There’s no telling what Zhudai is saying to Loki.”
“And no doubting who’s running the show now,” Phoenix muttered.
Marcus sent him a quick, confused look. “How could Zhudai be controlling a god?”
“You’ll just have to trust me on this,” Phoenix said quietly, “he is – somehow.”
“What can we do?”
Phoenix gritted his teeth. “As much as I hate to say it, I think we have to wait. Jade seems to be at least giving Odinn something to think about. The best we can hope for is some luck - maybe Brynn will turn up with Truda at just the right time.”
Marcus bowed his head slightly, his eyes hard. “I prefer to make my own luck. Just get me close to Zhudai and I will find a way to kill him and end this right now.” His fingers flexed as though gripping an invisible dagger.
Phoenix grabbed his hand. “Don’t be stupid. We’re in a room full of people with divine powers and Zhudai himself is an arch-wizard. You don’t stand a chance.”
The Roman met his gaze, his face stony. “This counsel from you?” He relaxed a little and nodded. “Very well. Let’s hope you’re right then and the real Truda shows up. Otherwise,” he glanced at the impassive face of Odinn, “I don’t think we’re getting out of here alive. Look.”
Phoenix turned back to the trial. As he watched, Loki nodded in response to some question from Odinn, rose and left the room. Possibly only Phoenix and Marcus caught the significant look that passed between the god and the Chinese villain. Zhudai closed his eyes. His lips moved briefly and his hands shifted in a slight, graceful gesture – as though he were forming the outline of something in the air in front of him.
The Hammer of Thor Page 18
