Valhalla Virus

by Nick Harrow

  They’d killed eight jötnar, not including the one upstairs. The bodyguard grabbed the horn on Ray’s monster. “Nice work, badass. You drag them to the elevator, and I’ll haul them upstairs.”

  While the job wasn’t any fun, it wasn’t difficult, either. The strength he’d gained from activating the Hall of Heroes stayed with him. He instinctively knew that it would as long as he remained inside the lodge. It was a nice bonus, and it made the miserable job of hauling out the monster garbage a lot easier. Within an hour, all the bodies were outside.

  Gunnar severed the heads of their enemies with a hand axe Mimi had found in the garage. He mounted them on the spikes at the top of the gate. That would give the jötnar something to think about if they came this way again.

  With that out of the way, Gunnar took a tour of the lodge to see what else the jötnar had wrecked. The walls, floor, and ceiling had suffered damage during the attack, but some of it had already healed. Gunnar found dirt, pounded flat and hard, showing through some patches of torn carpet. Rough timbers had replaced missing chunks of concrete from the walls. Where the ceiling was damaged, Gunnar discovered wooden strips laced together and caked with clay. The pool was still nice and clear, though, so he dropped down on its edge and soaked his feet in the water.

  “What the hell did you do this place, Gun?” Mimi asked. She’d wrapped up her part of the cleanup and flopped down in one of the lounge chairs near the pool that had survived the fight. She dangled her feet in the pool and sighed. “It looks like we’re being taken over by Medieval Times.”

  “I activated the Hall of Heroes,” the bodyguard said from where he sat on the pool’s stony edge. He didn’t trust the lounge chairs to hold his weight. “It’s changing the place, like the Valknut changed me.”

  Ray and Bridget arrived from the main house with a tray of glasses and a bottle of whiskey between them. “Figured we could all use some refreshments,” Bridget said.

  Ray poured two fingers into a glass and handed it to Mimi. When everyone had a drink, Bridget set the tray down beside Gunnar, then took a seat on the edge of the pool.

  “It’s a really good thing the world is ending,” Mimi grumbled. “I was supposed to take care of this place for some very nasty government people. They’d be very, very pissed if they saw how I’d messed up that job.”

  “Finders, keepers,” Gunnar said. “If they want this place back, they’ll have to come give us a hand kicking those monsters out of Vegas.”

  “Doubtful,” Mimi said. She kicked one bare foot in the water. “Lines are still dead. I don’t think anyone’s coming, ladies and Jolly.”

  Gunnar opened his mouth to tell Mimi not to call him that, then let it go. That was a fight he’d never win. The more he called attention to the nickname, the more likely it was the others would use it. Instead, he cracked his knuckles and started laying out his plan. “We need to find the rest of the relics before Hyrrokkin’s freak show comes back for round two. If any of you have seen or heard about a spear or a golden ring, now’s the time to speak up.”

  Ray swirled her glass on the table. “I haven’t, yet, but I think there’s a way for us to find them if the three of us work together.”

  “She’s right,” Bridget said. The light from the dot on her forehead glowed a deep, velvety purple. “I caught a glimpse of what to do while you three were killing all the bad guys. We’ll need your help, Mimi.”

  Mimi downed her whiskey and put the drink down on the edge of the pool. “Sure, why not. Better move back, Jolly. Women at work here.”

  Ray and Bridget slid into the pool. They gestured for Mimi to join them.

  She stood, slithered her legs out of her jeans, then stripped out of her shirt. She tossed the clothes off to the side, then turned flashing eyes to Gunnar. “What’re you looking at? I didn’t have a chance to change. I’m not putting bloody clothes in the pool.”

  “Just admiring the view,” Gunnar said.

  Mimi was a little taller than Rayleigh, and a few years older than Gunnar. She was muscular and lithe, and a scattered constellation of pale, starburst scars the size of nickels dotted her olive skin. She met Gunnar’s eyes as she stepped into the pool, an old heat rekindling in her gaze.

  His body responded to the sight, stiffening as the cool water stiffened Mimi’s dark nipples. Desire throbbed in his veins, and he was reminded of the fires hidden in their pasts. He’d once traced the path of those scars with his tongue, tasting Mimi’s sweat, feeling her curves shifting and straining under him...

  Bridget took Mimi’s left hand and Rayleigh’s right, and then Mimi and Ray completed the triangle by reaching out to each other. None of them said a word, but light poured from their foreheads and mingled in the center of their gathering.

  Gunnar shivered as a cold wind whipped through the bunker, skipping flakes of frost over the pool’s suddenly steaming surface.

  Mimi’s eyes opened wide and turned a uniform golden color. Her powerful voice echoed through the underground chamber. “Thence come the maidens, mighty in wisdom, three from the dwelling, down ’neath the tree.”

  Gossamer threads that shone with pink, gold, and violet light emerged from the witches and wove a complex pattern in the air above the pool. Odin’s vision informed Gunnar that this was the Web of Wyrd, the tangled skein of fate that only the völva, skilled in the ways of seidr, could truly understand.

  “The Valkyries steal the relics from the City of Golden Dreams. They bear the relics to the lands of men,” Rayleigh intoned, her voice cold and distant. She released her grip on the other women and reached up to trace vibrant lines in the pattern. “They spirited these treasures from the halls of Asgard to save them from the fall. The eye to the king who was hanged.”

  Gunnar saw the words as much as heard them. A vision of winged women descending from the heavens to hide their treasures played across his thoughts. Before he could see where they’d hidden them, though, a billowing storm front gusted across his vision and banished the images.

  It was Mimi’s turn to release Bridget’s hand and run her fingers down a thrumming thread within the pattern. When she spoke, her voice echoed with ancient power. “The spear is taken by the Behemoth, the maw of chaos.”

  “The ring falls to the bringer of chaos,” Bridget added while she traced a velvet strand. “One has come to pass, one is happening, and the third’s hour draws near.”

  Those words didn’t stir a vision, but deep feelings churned Gunnar’s thoughts like a witch’s brew in a bone pot. He was the hanged king, he was certain of that because the Valknut was stuck in his head, but he didn’t know the others. Hyrrokkin had to be the bringer of chaos. The Behemoth, though...that was new.

  “You must decide our path, oh Jarl.” Mimi’s voice was a quiet plea. “Only one of these can I find before the darkness claims the other.”

  An aura of lights—pink, gold, and purple—surrounded the women before Gunnar, and they’d turned so all six of their eyes were focused on him. He hated that he could only find one more relic before the jötnar got hold of the other, but at least he’d have two to their one. And the völva had given him another advantage: he could pick not just which item he found next, but which the jötnar would find. The golden ring seemed useless to him—who cared about money when the world was falling apart? The spear, though, could be the weapon that turned the tide of this battle.

  “Where is Gungnir?” he asked.

  The golden beam of light from Mimi’s forehead danced in the air, and she studied the weave for what felt like hours before her light focused on a single intersection of the web. She said, “It lies within a pyramid of black glass.”

  Bridget’s light focused on the threads around that intersection. Purple knots formed where the beam lingered, isolating the point Mimi had identified. “And so it shall remain until the jarl’s hand takes it, or he falls.”

  Those words chilled Gunnar to the bone. He had his völva by his side, the Valknut in his head, and the ability to swipe the
life force out of his enemies. But none of that guaranteed he’d get out of this mess in one piece.

  As if to emphasize that point, the Valknut transformed the colorful web into a burning lens that showed Gunnar the darkness on the horizon. An army of jötnar under Hyrrokkin’s banner, blood running in the streets while fire clawed at the sky. Monsters bigger than any he’d seen so far, and something twisted and deadly lurking behind it all.

  Gunnar realized that, even if he reclaimed all the relics, the battle could stretch on for a very long time. His enemies would only grow more numerous, his allies more threatened. Dark days were ahead.

  His father’s words crawled through Gunnar’s thoughts. “Save yourself, and those dear to you. Let the rest work out their own shit, or you’ll drown in it.”

  Gunnar had struggled his whole life with that philosophy. He’d wanted to honor his father, but it was hard to swallow that wisdom. He could wait out the disaster, down here, surrounded by beautiful women. Maybe they’d be passed over. Maybe they’d live for years down here on survival rations while the world above them burned.

  Gunnar watched the vision play out, saw glimpses of a dark reflection of himself in them. No, he couldn’t hide down here like a bear hibernating through a long winter. His völva needed him.

  The world needed him.

  Chapter 14

  THE SPELL UNRAVELED in a shower of multicolored sparks that rained down around the völva. The trio of women shivered for a moment, then leaned against one another in a warm embrace. Steam rose from the pool’s water as they swayed slowly, eyes closed, breathing as heavily as if they’d just run a marathon. Bridget, in particular, seemed all but wiped out by whatever they’d just done.

  Gunnar slipped into the water behind the tall platinum blonde and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back into him, her body still cold to the touch.

  “Everybody okay?” he asked.

  “Tired,” Bridget murmured sleepily, her hands slipping from Mimi’s and Rayleigh’s hands.

  He lifted her into his arms and headed back up the pool’s stairs. “All right, everybody inside. Get some dry clothes on and we’ll talk about that weird little show.”

  “Who needs clothes?” Mimi asked as she emerged from the water. She flung her long red hair back over her head, spraying a squealing Ray with water.

  “I’m gonna drown you,” Rayleigh growled. She sprang up the steps on Mimi’s heels and jumped onto her back. The pair giggled and collapsed onto the astroturf, rolling over and over as they tried to pin each other down.

  “Weirdos,” Bridget murmured and snuggled up to nuzzle Gunnar’s neck. Her lips were cold against his skin, like the touch of a frosty Coke bottle on a hot summer day. “You’re warm.”

  Gunnar’s mind went to about a hundred different ways to warm up the statuesque woman in his arms. What she held back from him made her all the more enticing, which Gunnar knew was incredibly stupid. When the time was right, though...

  Gunnar carried her through the kitchen and down the hallway that separated it from the dining room. He eased her to her feet in front of the door, and she stood up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.

  “You’re sweet,” she said. Her fingers drew lines in the moisture that had soaked through his T-shirt. “Thank you for understanding about...”

  She hesitated and her thin eyebrows twisted into a knot beneath the purple glowing dot on her forehead. “The things I can’t do,” she said in a whisper. “I know it makes things harder.”

  “In more ways than one,” Gunnar said with a low, throaty chuckle. “But don’t worry about it. If the time comes—”

  “When it comes,” she said. “I promise.”

  Gunnar gave her a squeeze, and she shivered against his chest. “Get some dry clothes on before you freeze to death,” he said.

  She returned the hug and waved, then vanished into the bedroom. Gunnar left her to get dressed and passed the other völva on their way down the hall. Ray’s shirt was half torn off, and her skirt was pushed up almost to her waist, leaving very little to the imagination. Mimi was on her back, still stark naked, her legs around Rayleigh’s waist, arms around her neck.

  “Giddyap,” she said and reached back to give Ray an echoing smack on the ass. “Outta the way, Gun, this horsey’s gotta run.”

  “You two really are acting like weirdos,” Gunnar said. He pressed up against the wall to let Ray run past, then gave Mimi a quick slap on the ass as she passed.

  They both yelped and disappeared down the hall as the big man made his way to the kitchen. He threw together some simple sandwiches, made a mental note to cook more bacon for breakfast, then tossed everything onto a serving tray. By the time he’d finished and carried the food to the dining room, the völva were gathered around the table. Mimi sat at the foot, Bridget to her right and Rayleigh to her left. Mimi had found some clothes that were a little snug for Ray and way too short on Bridget. Despite their ill-fitting outfits they all looked a little giddy, and the lights from their foreheads had faded.

  “Food,” Bridget said with a guttural moan. “Thank you so much. I’m exhausted.”

  Each of the women grabbed a sandwich and laid into them with ferocious bites. Gunnar followed suit. When they’d devoured their sandwiches, the völva all leaned back in their chairs and let out gusty sighs.

  “You ladies have time to answer a question before you go into a food coma?” Gunnar asked after he’d polished off his own snack.

  “Ask away, oh Jarl,” Ray said. “We humble völva live to serve you.”

  “Fuck that,” Mimi said. “But go ahead. Ask your question.”

  “What did you mean about Gungnir staying in the pyramid until I take it or I fall?” Gunnar asked Bridget.

  “It’s hard to describe,” she said, carefully considering each word. “My powers are sort of waking up, a little at a time. I can see little pieces of the future, like how I knew you needed to activate the lodge. I don’t have much control over what I see like that. It just happens.

  “Other than that...I’m not strong enough to change the future, exactly. But I can make a version of the future more likely to come to pass. I tied some knots in the Wyrd around Gungnir, making it unlikely that it will change position until its fate is either united with yours or that becomes impossible.”

  Gunnar considered what she’d said, and a hundred uses for that ability jumped into his head. “Then find a version of the future where the Behemoth dies of a heart attack and I find Gungnir without a fight.”

  Bridget laughed then, a musical sound that reminded Gunnar of a wind chime in a winter’s breeze. “I wish it were that easy,” she said. “It’s much harder than I made it sound, and every time I mess with the future, even a little, it carries a steep price.”

  “A price she doesn’t fully understand,” Ray added. “Fate is tricky, babe. Mimi and I can use our powers more easily than Bridget. We can access them using the hamingja, and we can recharge that power from our connection to you, or by taking it from our foes.”

  “Just what kind of powers do you have?” Gunnar asked Rayleigh. “Bridget can glimpse the future and mess with the Wyrd. What do you have?”

  “I can see the past,” she said. “Only glimpses right now, but it helps a little. Like...during the fight, I could see a few seconds back and see which way the jötnar went. It’s not the most accurate thing, but it helped me figure out where they’d be. And, I think, there’s something else. But I can’t access it yet. Maybe if we kill some more monsters?”

  “Maybe,” Gunnar mused. He had gotten taller and stronger after absorbing hamingja. Maybe that’s all it took. Pump enough energy into the völva, and they could level up to new and more impressive powers. “What about you, Mimi?”

  Mimi headed into the kitchen, talking as she went. “I can tell where things are, like, right now.”

  She demonstrated by grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser above the sink, wadding it up, and tossing it over her shoulder. It landed ri
ght in front of Gunnar, and she hadn’t even looked before she tossed it.

  “That’s why you were such a good shot at Cal’s,” Gunnar said. “What’s the range on that?”

  “Not far,” Mimi said. “And it gets less accurate the farther out I look. It’s really dead-on out to about fifteen feet and pretty crap after that. That’s why I needed Bridget’s and Ray’s help to find the spear.”

  “Maybe we should spend some time harvesting hamingja,” Gunnar said. “Could you use that power if we got it for you, Bridget?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. That’s...hamingja is sort of a future that hasn’t happened yet. Using that power to tamper with the potential strands of the Wyrd is impossible. It’s like plugging an extension cord’s male end into the female end of the same cord.”

  Gunnar grunted and rotated his glass in front of him. “That sucks,” he said. “Do you know how long it will be before you can use your power again?”

  Bridget frowned. “Eight hours, at least. Messing with the Wyrd requires a sacrifice of my energy, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to play around with that. I did it today because we have to find that relic.”

  The bodyguard nodded and leaned back in his chair. “I won’t ask you to do it again unless we don’t have a choice.”

  “At least we know where the spear is,” Mimi said as she returned from the kitchen with four glasses of tequila. “There’s only one black pyramid in Vegas.”

  “The Luxor,” Gunnar agreed. “That’s on the south end of the Strip.”

  Ray shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “It’s only fifteen minutes from here. Easy peasy with your new buffness. A quick adventure, in and out, Morty. It’ll be fun.”

  Gunnar chuckled at her joke, then shook his head. “Fifteen minutes in the old world, before there were monsters dancing around burning cars in the middle of the Strip.”