The Sword of Surtur

by C. L. Werner

  With a loud groan, the pillar came crashing down. Sindr was smashed beneath the toppling span, crushed to the floor under tons of broken rock. Rubble spilled from the ceiling, striking several fire demons and sowing panic among the others. A gruesome tremor shuddered through the hall, the remaining pillars visibly shaking as they struggled to adjust to the redistributed weight. Debris clattered downward from cracks that snaked across the roof.

  Nineteen

  Tyr coughed as the gritty dust and ash from the fractured pumice filled the air. Covering his face with his arm, he plunged through the noxious cloud. He swung Tyrsfang as a reeling fire demon almost stumbled into him, the blow finishing the guard before he was even aware of the Aesir’s presence. He drove himself onward through the blinding murk, making his way to where he’d last seen his embattled companions.

  A disoriented fire demon lurched into his path. Tyr struck with his sword, the power of the impact hurling the enemy aside. The cloud was thinner here, and he could make out the ring of foes that surrounded Bjorn and Lorelei. Four bodies on the ground told that the pair had done their part in the fighting, but there were a dozen more opposing the Asgardians.

  Tyr offered the fire demons no warning. While they were disoriented by the collapse of the pillar, he hurled himself into their midst. A clubbing strike of his metal cup dropped one where he stood, a sideways slash of his sword threw another across the hall to slam into the wall and wilt to the floor in a broken heap. Two more quickly followed, cut down by Tyrsfang. They were the last to be caught helpless by him. The others turned to confront the opponent who’d appeared on their flank.

  An obsidian sword bit into Tyr’s breastplate, tearing at the metal. He felt the ragged edges scrape his skin, so nearly did the attack punch through to his flesh. The Muspelheim swordswoman didn’t get a chance for a second stroke. Tyrsfang caught her in the midsection and flung her body over the heads of the other fire demons. A glaive chopped at his belly, deflected at the last second by a sideward slap of his arm and the metal cup encasing his stump. The wielder of the glaive stumbled forward, putting himself within easy reach of Tyr’s sword. It was the last mistake of the fire demon’s life.

  “Save a few for me!” Bjorn thundered, throwing himself at the enemies who only a moment before had dominated the field. In their haste to confront Tyr, the guards neglected to watch their original foes. The huntsman’s axe crunched into a fire demon’s skull. He ripped the weapon free and went after the one beside him as the warriors remembered the enemies at their back. For an instant, Asgardian axe crashed against Muspelheimer sword as the two pitted their strength against each other.

  “Shield your eyes!” Lorelei cried out. Tyr covered his face as she made arcane gestures with her hands. Even with his eyes shielded, he could feel the chilly sparks that flared across his vision. For the fire demons, the effect was far more pronounced. They shrieked as their eyes were singed by the icy burn of her spell. While they were reeling in pain, Tyr and Bjorn swiftly dispatched them. Tyr regretted the crisis allowed no measure for mercy.

  For the moment, no foes menaced the Asgardians, but Tyr knew it was but a momentary respite. There was no time to rest, they had to either brace themselves to fight more guards or try to lose their pursuit in the winding passageways. The God of War knew the quickest way to squander a victory was to engage in pointless battles. While they had the chance, they needed to escape.

  “Which way?” Tyr gestured at Lorelei and then to the corridors branching away from the main chamber. The debris falling from the roof had lessened to a mere trickle of dust now as the remaining pillars took up the weight of the halls above. “More of them will be on us in an instant.” Across the room, the survivors of Sindr’s entourage were being joined by those the Asgardians had been pursued by. The hellhounds turned in their direction and started dashing over the rubble.

  Lorelei consulted the box. She frowned at it for a moment, trying to urge the sliver of Twilight to come to rest. Finally, she pointed a finger to one of the corridors. “That one! Try that one!”

  Tyr scowled at the passage Lorelei indicated. Its walls seethed with heat, glowing from the lava that undulated just beneath the surface. After the tremors, he wondered how sturdy the corridor was, or if it would burst the moment they started down it.

  “Go for it.” Tyr waved at her and Bjorn to make for the passage. “I’ll keep the dogs from nipping at our heels.” He turned to face the pack of hellhounds. There were four of the beasts, each baying its fury as it loped towards him, fiery froth spilling from their jowls.

  Before the hellhounds reached Tyr, the chamber was again shaken by a tremendous force. Splinters of rock sprayed in every direction, pelting dogs, fire demons, and Asgardians with equal malice. Tyr wiped at the blood that dribbled from a cut along his brow. Looking to where the splinters had emanated, he saw a monstrous shape rise from where the pillar had fallen, chunks of the ruptured rock strewn all around.

  The flames that roared around Sindr’s body were a searing yellow, more furious than the face of the sun. Her body had swollen in keeping with her ire. Now she stood thirty feet tall, her horns brushing against the ceiling. She stretched out her hand and the fiery sword reappeared, now twice as massive as before. Her tail lashed the ground, sending a boulder-sized fragment rolling across the floor.

  The hellhounds whined and recoiled, forgetting all about Tyr as the giant started towards him. “I’ll make you wish the rest of you was in the wolf’s belly!” Sindr hissed as she advanced across the room.

  Tyr risked a glance at Lorelei and Bjorn. They were almost at the passageway she’d pointed out. If he could keep Sindr from noticing them a little longer, they at least would have a chance of reaching Surtur’s forge.

  “Just you?” Tyr scoffed and waved his sword at the fire demons. “Or do you need help?”

  Sindr’s flaring eyes remained fixed on him. “The goblin who dares interfere will wish they’d never been born.” Her threat echoed through the chamber. A malignant smile spread over her face. “I need no help settling one of Odin’s lesser sons.”

  “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” retorted Tyr. He made a show of rushing at Sindr as he had before. She swung her gigantic sword to thwart the attack, but the moment he saw her arm start to move, he was already changing tactics. His charge became a dive, a scramble for the corridor a few dozen yards to his left. He heard the giant’s frustrated howl as she realized she’d been tricked. The smell of burnt hair was in his nose and the floor under his feet seemed to leap beneath his toes, so nearly did Sindr strike him with a second thrust.

  Tyr gained the corridor and hurried down it. He smiled as he glanced up at the ceiling, only ten feet over his head. At her current size, Sindr couldn’t follow. But escape wasn’t his plan. He stopped and turned to face the chamber. The giant appeared at the mouth of the passage, crouching down to peer inside. She thrust her sword down the hall, jabbing and swiping, but he kept beyond her reach.

  “I’ve seen rock trolls try to fish badgers from their burrows like this,” he jeered. “Surely the daughter of Surtur is smarter than a troll!”

  Sindr’s face contorted with renewed fury. She drew back, humiliated by Tyr’s jibe. Her next action was less impulsive and more calculating, but it was precisely the tack he’d been counting on. Steeling her resolve, the flames around the giant cooled. Her body condensed, reducing in size and mass, shrinking to a scale that would allow her to pursue him.

  Tyr acted the moment he judged Sindr was at her most vulnerable. Her body’s reduction didn’t keep pace with that of her sword. When she was a third of her previous size, the weapon remained two-thirds its enlarged size. He judged it would be impossible for her to lift, much less swing, the sword.

  “For Asgard!” Tyr shouted as he charged down the corridor. He was shocked when Sindr tried to strike him with the over-sized sword, amazed by the tremendous strength that must be in her
arms to manage such a feat. Yet, though she had strength enough to swing the huge blade, it remained unwieldy. Tyr was able to dodge past the cumbersome swing and bring his metal cup slamming down on the giant’s hand.

  The blow numbed Sindr’s fingers, and the flaming blade fell from her grip, evaporating into smoke and embers before it could hit the floor. Tyr pressed ahead, driving his body against that of the giant. Only a fighter with the power of an Aesir could have knocked her prone. He ended his charge poised over the fallen giant with his sword pressed against her throat.

  “Curse me all you want,” Tyr told Sindr, “but if you make a move or try to ignite your body Surtur will be shy one daughter.” Sindr glared balefully at him, but otherwise kept still. “That’s a handy trick you have to change your size. Do it again. Small enough that I don’t have to stand on tiptoe to keep this sword at your throat.”

  As he gave Sindr orders, Tyr saw the fire demons creeping across the rubble, intent on rescuing their mistress. “Call them off,” he warned. Sindr sneered at him. He pressed his sword against her crimson skin. “This is Tyrsfang, forged from the tooth of Fenris itself. Your goons might get me, but I can assure you it won’t be before I get you. Call them off.”

  “Do as he says.” Sindr spat the words. “Keep back!”

  Tyr nodded as the fire demons halted, pressing no further than the rubble. A few caught the leashes of the hellhounds and restrained the dogs lest they suddenly lunge and provoke the Aesir. “Good,” Tyr said. “Now get yourself down to a more manageable size.” He watched the giant as her body again underwent a rapid metamorphosis. When she was reduced to a height a little over seven feet the process stopped. Sindr glared at him, almost daring him to demand more.

  “Just had to stay a head taller than me,” Tyr quipped. He motioned her onto her feet, keeping the blade pressed to her throat. “We’ll take a little walk, and if everyone stays calm, I’ll let you go.” Sindr kept a sullen silence as they moved across the chamber. The fire demons followed, but made no effort to close the distance.

  “Of all the audacity!” Bjorn exclaimed when Tyr neared the corridor. “You caught the fire giant’s daughter!” He grinned and shook his head. “But what by Sleipnir’s hooves are you going to do with her?”

  Lorelei stepped forward, her expression utterly remorseless. “Kill her,” she told Tyr as she looked over the giant.

  “I agreed to spare her if she called off the guards,” Tyr informed Lorelei, stunned by her ruthlessness. “I’ll not go back on my word.” Again he was surprised, for the anger in Sindr’s gaze flickered for a moment, her face showing incredulity at his statement.

  Bjorn scratched his beard. “That’s fine, but it doesn’t answer the problem. What’re we going to do with her?”

  “You should be more worried about what I will do to you,” Sindr growled. “You can’t get away, and whatever you do to me, my father will return to you tenfold.”

  Tyr stared over her shoulder. The fire demons, never long on patience, were testing their luck now, inching ever closer to the corridor. “You must be pretty tough to live in a volcano,” he told her. “Fiery within and without.”

  “Would you like me to show you?” Sindr challenged him. Just one of her fingers began to flicker with flames.

  “Bjorn, Lorelei, start making your way,” Tyr said, nodding at the recesses of the tunnel. He could see there was a turn ahead, the wall glowing even hotter than those around them. “I’ll follow shortly. Once I’ve finished my discussion.” He watched as his companions started down the passage.

  “We’ve nothing to discuss.” Sindr gave him a fierce look. “Unless you want to talk about how I’m going to char your bones after I take that sword away from you.”

  Tyr started backing down the passage, prodding Sindr along. “Fire giant’s daughter,” he commented. “You probably bathe in lava and drink flagons of boiling oil.”

  “Yes,” Sindr said. “And I eat arrogant Aesir after they’ve been dunked in pitch.”

  They were at the corner now. Tyr could see that the fire demons were following them into the corridor. At some point they were going to stop trying to be sneaky and just rush in and try to mob him. Tyr turned so that Sindr stood between himself and the guards. He could feel the heat of the glowing wall close on his right. From the corner of his eye, he fancied he could see the lava flowing just beneath the surface.

  “You like hot stuff,” Tyr said, nodding at Sindr. “But how well does it like you?” He shoved her suddenly with his left arm. Given no warning, the giant staggered away. He gave her no further attention, for as he shoved her he brought Tyrsfang slashing across the wall just where the rocky shell appeared at its thinnest and threw himself deeper into the corridor.

  A jet of lava exploded from the rent Tyr created, a fountain of molten rock that gushed into the corridor. Sindr was struck by the cascade. Her body, as she’d boasted, was impervious to the intense heat, but not to the tremendous force of the tide. She was blasted off her feet and sent tumbling back down the passageway. Giant and flood slammed into the fire demons, propelling all of them out from the corridor.

  Tyr observed only long enough to be certain his strategy had worked, then spun around and sprinted after his companions. He’d harnessed the volcano’s pent-up pressure to confound Sindr and her minions, but as he dashed past the glowing walls, he worried that other weak spots might burst and send lava pouring after the Asgardians.

  Twenty

  The roar of the gushing lava was still in Tyr’s ears when he was well away from the scene. Gradually the hue of the walls softened, the glow fading in intensity. Even the heat became less caustic, though still bordering on the unbearable. Tyr rounded another corner and saw Bjorn waiting for him, axe at the ready.

  “Thought you were a fire demon,” the wolfhunter said, relaxing slightly.

  Lorelei came out from around the bend and gave Tyr an appraising look. “What did you do with Sindr?” she asked.

  “I invited her to take a swim,” Tyr answered. “She won’t be bothering us for a while.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that,” Lorelei said. “If anyone knows the layout of this fortress better than Surtur himself, it would be her.” She waved at the tunnel they were in. “This corridor can lead us to the forge. I remember it from the dark elf’s map.” She scowled and gave Tyr an exasperated look. “You should’ve killed her.”

  Tyr fixed the woman with a steely gaze. “I’ve compromised a lot on this venture, but I’ll not break my word.”

  “Honor,” Lorelei scoffed. “I think you’ve lost sight of what you can accomplish here.” She motioned him to be quiet. “Yes, I really think you have. And consider this. Sindr knows this stronghold and she knows where we’ve gone. If she stops and adds those together, she’ll quickly figure out what we’re after. Then the only question is whether she tries to stop us herself, or tells her father.”

  Bjorn’s face grew pale. “Surtur,” he muttered.

  “I expected from the first I would have to face the fire giant,” Tyr said.

  Lorelei stepped close and laid her hand on his cheek. “I know. You would die fighting Surtur if it meant staving off Odin’s doom. But I don’t want that. I want you to return to Asgard a living hero, not a dead martyr.”

  Tyr felt his pulse quicken at her touch, his senses racing with appreciation of Lorelei’s presence, her nearness. For the instant, nothing mattered except her. Not Surtur or Sindr or Twilight, only Lorelei. He couldn’t fail her. He wouldn’t fail her.

  “What’s done is done,” Tyr said. “All we can do is try to limit the damage and ensure our success. The flood will delay Sindr. We have at least a little time to beat her to the forge and make off with Twilight before she or anyone else can interfere.”

  Lorelei moved away, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. “A sound suggestion.” She consulted the box and gestured ahead. “We keep goi
ng this way.”

  Tyr set out to resume the lead. As he did, he happened to glance at Bjorn. There was no sparkle in the huntsman’s eyes. Only an enmity that might have matched what he’d seen in Sindr’s gaze.

  Tyr couldn’t blame Bjorn for being resentful. He imagined that he’d feel the same if Lorelei had bestowed her affection on someone else. Only she hadn’t. It was Tyr who’d supplanted Thor in her heart. This entire quest had been arranged by her so that he would exceed his upstart brother’s fame, so that by giving him the chance to show all Asgard his bravery Lorelei could prove her own devotion.

  It was all so clear to Tyr now. The only thing that troubled him was why it hadn’t been obvious to him before.

  Lorelei became more hesitant the deeper into the passageway they went. At each junction she stopped, a troubled look on her face. Tyr didn’t want to put into words what he feared: she didn’t know where they were. Now, when there were other reasons to suspect Surtur would guess their purpose without capturing them and finding it, he bemoaned her decision to memorize the dark elf’s map rather than bring it along to consult on the way.

  The tunnels, after a brief upward slant leaving the chamber where they’d fought Sindr, plunged downwards again at a steep grade. The heat in the air was hideous, though at least the walls weren’t aglow from lava coursing just beneath a crust of rock. Tyr knew the temperature would only grow worse as they struck towards the stronghold’s lower vaults, ever nearer the molten core of the volcano.

  Cracking sounds from up ahead of them made the Asgardians stop. For a terrible moment Tyr pictured the tunnel breaking apart and magma flooding the corridor just like the torrent he’d unleashed upon Sindr and the fire demons. They paused, waiting for any sign of such a calamity, but nothing transpired. There was only the steady cracking of rock and the sharp ping of metal.

  “Sounds like someone working up ahead,” Bjorn offered. His eyes brightened. “Maybe it’s the forge.”