War and Famine: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 2)

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Thumpety, thump, thump,” Frosty growled, his magical top hat casting a dark shadow across his face as he spoke.

  Vidar lashed outward with one massive fist. The blow caved in Frosty’s face, but the creature didn’t relent. Instead, the snowman drove his icy blade upward through Vidar’s wrist. Blood burst from the wound as the Viking god’s hand went flying into the air. He screamed loud enough to pop Caden’s eardrums as frost crept up from the wound, crystalizing his blood and swarming up his body like a living breathing thing.

  His severed hand fell to the ground and shattered into a thousand shards of crimson. The key sat there in the midst of them, glowing like a pale star.

  “Give up, Vidar. If you do, I won’t shatter the rest of you like a wine glass.” Ian placed his hand on Frosty’s back, and the creature drove Vidar down into the snow hard enough for the shockwave to make Caden lose his footing.

  He stumbled forward onto the snow toward it. Vidar’s key glimmered in front of him. He snatched the bearded key from the snow and sprinted forward, barely watching as Vidar’s foot burst through Ian’s snowy amalgamation.

  “Hurry!” Ian cried as Vidar’s next kick hit the snowman hard enough to lay waste to an entire city. The snow churned into icy froth as Caden scrambled from key to key. He barely had time to think about it because as much as he wanted to avoid becoming collateral damage, each key he grabbed filled him with a strange sense of purpose. It was like a magnetic force that drew him toward the next one.

  Even with the unnatural energy guiding him, by the time he had all eight in his possession, he was so cold, he could barely breathe. Ice matted his hair to his scalp and covered his eyelashes so thickly he could barely see through them.

  “I just need the last one,” Caden called as he turned back toward the battle in time to see Frosty get blasted to smithereens. Bits of ice fell from the sky as Vidar stepped forth from the swirling frost, an axe in his good hand.

  “You’ll never get it, boy,” Vidar replied, dropping his axe to the ground before bending down and scooping up the key at his feet. He opened his mouth and shoved the final key inside.

  Ian lunged at Vidar, smashing his fist into the god’s jaw before he could swallow. A key with the head of a fish went flying across the horizon. It was the fish’s breath. Caden smirked. That one had come from a dolphin. At first, he hadn’t wanted to try getting it since dolphins weren’t technically fish, but as soon as he’d bottled the stuff, the container had turned as gold as the sun. Thank god for loop holes.

  Caden sprinted after the key as Vidar spun with the force of Ian’s blow and wrapped his hand around the horseman’s wrist. A staccato crack filled the air, followed by Ian’s scream as Caden reached out for the fallen key. Ian’s body hit him like a bag of cement, knocking him off his feet and sending all the keys he’d collected sprawling across the snow.

  He hit the ground, his head smacking against the ice. He lay there with Ian slumped across the top of him. Warm blood soaked his clothes as Vidar shook his head, rubbing his jaw with his remaining hand. “You may be strong, Fames, but you have not trained enough to even think about fighting me. I am a Viking God. I have been fighting for millennia.” Vidar bent down and picked up a handful of keys. “You’re all power and no finesse.” And with those words, he hurled the keys across the sky.

  Amy 02:04

  The moment Amy stepped into Muspelheim, one thing was instantly clear. They weren’t kidding when they called this the fire world. The ground, if you could call it that, was nothing more than a pool of lava. Buildings and huts made of living, breathing flame filled the horizon. Ashen giants dressed in clothing that would have made the pilgrims proud went about their business, bustling from kiosk to kiosk while others gestured at their wares and hollered.

  It was like some kind of bazaar where fire leapt from every surface. She wasn’t quite sure how it worked and was happier still to find herself not immediately incinerated. She shut her eyes and reached out with her mantle, and while it didn’t really have feelings of its own, it sort of felt like a well-sated kitten with cream. She, on the other hand, was nervous as hell.

  The smell of wood smoke filled her nose which was a little odd being that she didn’t see burning wood anywhere. Sure there was fire and lava, but as far as she could tell, there was nothing to actually feed the fire anywhere. She moved forward through the molten street, looking for the source of the flames as the giants turned to stare at her like she had two heads. She wasn’t that surprised by their reaction to be honest. She doubted many humans ventured forth into the heart of the Muspelheim bazaar. Still, it was rude for them to point.

  A particularly stout giant with skin the color and texture of charcoal briquettes stepped in front of her and dipped his black top hat in greeting. He had a long scraggly nose and cobalt hair that poked out from beneath his top hat.

  “My dear lady, what pray tell, are you doing here?” he asked in a voice that reminded her of logs crackling in a fire. Though that may have been because she could see what looked like the blackened husks of a campfire within his inferno of a mouth.

  “I’m not quite sure to be honest,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. As she did so, the giant, glanced at the sword in her hand. His gaze lingered on the weapon for too long for it to be good before it returned to her face.

  “We don’t allow weapons in the market.” He looked at his gold-buckled black shoes sheepishly. “Or in the world at all, really.”

  “We’re a peaceful people,” another giant said from behind her. This one’s voice was like a warm breeze on a cold night. “We have learned that the harder it is to kill or injure someone, the less likely people are to do it. Weapons make it too easy to commit violence.” Amy glanced over her shoulder to see a giantess wearing a modest black and white dress with matching bonnet.

  “I really can’t let you take my sword away, but I promise not to hurt anyone with it. I’m really just looking for my friend. I was told she was here.” Amy smiled at the female fire giant. At least she was pretty sure it was a female.

  “By whom?” another giant asked, sidling up in a pair of overalls that left his chest visible. Fire danced across it, making it seem like he had flaming chest hair. He pulled a metal straw from his lips and gestured at her with it. “We haven’t had any humans here since we closed our borders a thousand years ago.”

  “And as you can see, we’re doing quite fine,” the giant in the bonnet added as a trio of smaller giants hugged her legs. “No more random stabbings at the docks. No more people running into our schools and massacring our children because they think we’re evil even though they’re the ones slaughtering us in droves.”

  “So we’ll thank you kindly to be on your way,” the giant in the overalls said, taking a menacing step toward her. “We don’t like violence, but if we let others see you around, it will send a dangerous precedence.”

  “Wait,” Amy replied, holding one hand up in front of her. “Not all humans are bad. Just because someone a long time ago did something bad, doesn’t mean I’m going to hack all of you to bits.”

  “That’s not the point,” the giant in the top hat rumbled. Amy swung her gaze toward him and realized, to her horror, she was surrounded by dozens of the twenty foot tall creatures. “The point is precedent. Suppose we let you stay, and you don’t murder our children in their beds or crash a boat into our dock houses. Let’s just suppose that’s true. It might make people think they can trust humans. Soon after, we’ll be throwing open the doors to Muspelheim in the name of diplomacy. Your people will use the opportunity to spill into our world. Even if they don’t try to change things to suit their own culture like last time, and nearly everyone who comes in is honest and good, a few bad ones will sneak inside anyway.”

  “We can’t risk it. Think of the children,” the bonnet-clad giantess said, her voice high pitched as she swept her children behind her.

  “You think violently closing your borders to everyone is a better solution
than being hospitable to people who are just passing through?” Amy narrowed your eyes. “What if I was in trouble and desperately needed to hide here? What if I was hurt and needed help? What if I was just tired and needed a place to sleep without fear of my enemies attacking me for a single night? You would still throw me out?”

  “You’re not thinking about the children,” the giantess said, her face fixing into a stony glare as flames leapt from her eyes. “You wouldn’t be so quick to put your own offspring in danger.”

  “By letting you stay, it puts us all in danger,” someone else said from the crowd.

  Murmurs of approval filled Amy’s ears as she looked around frantically for someone with even a glimmer of reasonableness in them. Intellectually, she understood their argument. Hell, in their position she might have even agreed, but she wasn’t there to hurt them. They only way they’d get hurt was if they attacked and forced her to defend herself.

  Sadly, that was starting to seem likely. Amy gripped the hilt of Haijiku tight enough for her knuckles to turn white with effort as the group of giants approached her in a way she wouldn’t consider friendly on her best day. She took a step backward as the lava around her ankles churned and bubbled.

  Amy took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to calm herself. “You’re all being ridiculous. I’m here to stop Ragnarok. You know, the end of everything. Even if you’ve shut down your borders, your world won’t be safe from that.”

  “So you say,” top hat replied, baring his teeth as he glared openly at her. “How do we know that if we kick you out, we won’t be left alone as we have for the last thousand years?”

  “You don’t, but the chance of complete annihilation skipping over you while you hide inside your shell is pretty damn slim,” Amy barked, unconsciously raising her sword so the butterflies etched along its edge seemed to flit in the firelight. “You’re about a billion percent more likely to survive if you just help me find my friend so we can stop Ragnarok completely.”

  “Or we just dash your brains out on the cliffs of fire and call it a day,” overalls said. His face was twisted into a mask of hatred and flame that left his huge pointy incisors stuck out over the top of his upper lip like some kind of medieval orc.

  A surprising show of support came from the rest of the crowd as even more giants appeared, advancing steadily toward her. She swallowed and shut her eyes for a split second to calm herself as the lava around her bubbled and spit. She had half a mind to run away, to flee through the streets of their market, but she had doubts about she could outrun dozens of giants, especially when it seemed like they all hated her just for being human. Talk about xenophobia.

  When her eyes snapped open, the giants were within a few feet of her. They were going to attack no matter what she said or did. That much was obvious. Didn’t they see that by harassing her they were making it more likely that she’d lash out at them? She wasn’t just some normal human either. She was a horseman of the apocalypse. She wore the mantle of War and had control over fire. Even still, she wasn’t sure she could fight off a single fire giant, let alone a city full of them.

  A thought slipped across the edge of her mind on fluttering butterfly wings as the Emissary unfurled itself and yawned. “They are made of fire,” it said before settling back down for another nap. “You should let them know fire is your domain.”

  There was a shriek behind her, loud enough to break her connection with the sword as she whirled toward it. A fireball the size of a basketball sped toward her. Beyond it, several giants stood there with gobs of flame in their hands, no doubt about to launch them at her. Well, no good could come from that.

  Amy waved her free hand through the air, and the fireball careening stopped in midflight. She dropped her hand, and the molten ball of slag fell to the ground, hitting the lava with a hiss before dying away completely.

  “Good job,” Amy said as lava swirled up around her like whirlpool. “But I see tricks like that at least twice an hour.” She pointed her hand toward the lead giant’s stupid face and fire shot from her fingertips with a sound like a train screeching along its tracks. The blast stopped just short of the giant and hung there like hungry dragon’s breath. “Now, how about you all put down your fireballs before I get angry. Trust me, you won’t like me when I get angry. I tend to smash things.”

  The faces in the crowd looked at one another as the lava rose up behind her like a cobra’s hood. “You can all go back home right now. I just want to find my friend. Help me find her, and I promise not to hurt anyone. Before you think to yourself that there are lots of you and one will get me, well, I’m sure you’re right. But do you know what they call the first guy who tries to kill me and the second to last guy who tries to kill me, and all those in between?” Amy allowed the emotion to drain from her face as she took a step forward, the lava in the road parting to reveal the scorched bedrock beneath. “Dead.”

  She was about to say more when a giant who seemed tiny next to his peers even though he was about a foot taller than her pushed his way through the crowd. He was bare-chested and wore dirty brown pants with a hole over the left knee. The other giants regarded him curiously as he held out one hand to her. “I cannot speak for everyone, but I will help you find your friend so long as you leave my people alone.”

  “Henry!” cried a female giant as she pushed through the crowd and grabbed the smaller giant by the shoulder. “You can’t trust her. You don’t know what they’re like!”

  “That’s because you all sealed the world off from outsiders eight hundred years before I was born.” Henry shot an annoyed look at the female and shrugged out of her grip. “I’m two hundred years old, and I’ve never stepped outside this damn city. You can’t keep treating me, and my generation like babies when you’ve kept us all cooped up in here. It’s not fair to us or to her.” He gestured at Amy, but he wasn’t looking at her because his eyes were fixed on the female towering over him. “It’s time I stepped out of the nest, mom.”

  “She could hurt you…” Henry’s mom whispered. It was sort of funny because at fourteen feet tall she towered over him. Even still, Henry managed to stare her down.

  “Maybe the problem is that you only remember violence. Maybe there is a different way, a way in which we don’t force her to attack us like an animal backed into a corner. Isn’t that an option?” Henry asked, gesturing at the rest of the crowd. “We’re supposed to be good people, are we not? What of the story of Surt, the greatest among us? Wouldn’t he have died if not for the helping hand of Freyr?”

  “That’s just an old wives’ tale. Surt is just a legend,” his mother said, flushing hard enough to make her cheeks literally burst into flame. She glanced around the crowd for support.

  “It seems like Surt is a legend when talking about how he believed in peace and acceptance but when he can further someone’s agenda then hey, he’d totally be against this or that.” Henry started to say more when the sky above them ruptured, spilling fire fell from the sky as rain, and along with it came two more humans and a sword big enough to make Haijiku look like a party favor.

  Ian 02:04

  As Ian watched the nine impossible keys hurtle into the stratosphere, a strange sense of calm fell over him. He’d fought a god, and the god had won. There was no shame in that. Lots of people had fought gods and lost. It was strange, knowing he’d actually gotten his shot and failed. There wasn’t even anything he could say about it really. After all, it was one thing to complain about never getting your chance, but getting it and failing? It was an interesting pill to swallow.

  Caden moved beneath him, trapped underneath Ian’s body as he struggled to get up. Ian knew he should get to his feet, should confront Vidar once more, even if it was pointless. Hell, he ought to do more than that. He should stand up and crush the god beneath his heel. This was Jotunheim, and here he was a god too. Unfortunately, Vidar had a point. He wasn’t skilled enough to truly be a threat to the Norse deity. He’d been relying on his overwhelming
power to thwart Vidar, and judging by their chances of success now that the keys were gone, he was pretty sure it hadn’t been enough. It was like having revved the engine to your supercharged Indie 500 racecar before going on to lose the race to a toddler on a tricycle.

  Vidar wasn’t even looking at him now. Instead, the deity was moving toward his father, Odin. Ian wasn’t sure what Vidar had in store for the All-Father, but he was relatively sure it wasn’t good, especially if Vidar was truly under the influence of Fenris. Still, how bad could he feel over losing? Odin had been there too and had gotten shutdown like a Bronco’s quarterback whenever it counted.

  “Get up, Ian,” Caden whispered in his ear. His friend’s voice was strained, and his teeth chattered together. “If you don’t want to do something, at least let me try to do something.”

  “Okay,” Ian replied, rolling off of his friend. He found himself face down in the snow. It was cold and strangely refreshing like ice water after chewing spearmint gum. He gripped a handful of slush and let it pour between his fingers as Caden stood up behind him.

  “It’s too bad I don’t have your powers.” His friend let out a sad sigh. “If I did, I’d use them to recall the keys to my hand. You know, condense the moisture around them into ice then control the ice and return them to my hand.” He shot a grin at his friend. “I remember reading a comic where Magneto did something like that with metal.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Ian replied, rolling on his back so he could stare at the sky. He lifted one hand into the air and felt the winds whistle around him, howling across the jagged mountain tops and scurrying through the valleys. The edge of the keys touched his mind as they careened through the sky above Jotunheim’s frozen wastes. They were far away, but then again, this whole world was his oyster as it were. He concentrated, focusing on the moisture in the air around each and every impossible key.

  He willed the condensate to freeze around the first one and wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or elated or both when it solidified into a thin sheet of ice around the metal key. He pulled his hand back, and to his utter astonishment, the key came hurtling toward him. He glanced at Caden.