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

by J. A. Cipriano

  “It worked.” He smiled at his friend as he shifted his concentration for key to key, using the same process until they were all flying back toward him. “Your keys are on their way.” Ian fell to his hands and knees in the snow and let out a weak breath. Doing that had taken a lot out of him, and he was already tired. How were they going to get past Vidar now?

  He glanced at Caden who was busy pulling a long metal tube out of his backpack. His friend shivered so hard, Ian was surprised his legs hadn’t snapped like twigs. Caden shot him a look as a devious smile curled across his face. “Maybe we should trade. You can unfetter the wolf, and I’ll distract the god. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ian said, hauling himself to his feet. He hadn’t expected Caden to want to face the god, but perhaps whatever item Caden had come across would do the trick. It wasn’t like Ian had any more ideas. Well, he did, but they mostly centered on summoning more mutant Frosties because, hey, if one didn’t work, why not try ten or a hundred? The only problem was it had taken nearly everything in him to summon the one, and he doubted he could do it again, much less summon ten more. He was too tired, too hungry.

  “Okay, let’s do this. You’ll have to be quick though. I’m pretty sure I only have one shot with this,” Caden said, smacking his palm against the metal tube.

  Ahead of them, Vidar knelt beside Odin and gripped the All-Father by the throat. “You know, if Fenris is truly upon me, then I can kill you.” Vidar’s voice had a strange edge to it as he spoke. It was almost like he was more curious than not. “If not, your heart should grow back after I pluck it from your chest. I’ve always sort of wondered how long that might take.” Vidar reached back to make good on his threat, and his gauntlet-covered hand gleamed in the moonlight.

  Ian wasn’t quite sure what Vidar had done to disable Odin so easily. One moment the All-Father had been charging his son. The next, he had collapsed to the snow, clutching his head in his hands. Perhaps it was Fenris at work? Perhaps the wolf was psychically assaulting Odin. Not that it mattered. The god was at his son’s mercy, and that seemed to be in short supply. He was just glad the wolf hadn’t tried to get in his head.

  The keys glimmered overhead, and as Ian craned his head toward them, a thought struck him. He might not even have to move, which was good because he was too tired, too hungry to do much of anything. Aside from the fact he was pretty sure his left wrist was broken and his right arm was dislocated. He shut his eyes and dropped down onto his knees. His right palm slammed into the ground. The force popped his shoulder back into place, but the only thing he noticed was blinding agony. He gritted his teeth together so hard it would have hurt if he could have experienced anything other than his shoulder assaulting his senses with white hot daggers.

  Vidar looked up just then, turning his head to see the keys flying toward him. His eyes narrowed just before a spear of glowing purple energy struck him full in the chest. The blow lifted him from his feet and flung him backward into the snow as electricity pulsed through his body, illuminating his skeleton like an x-ray. He hit the ground a few yards away and lay there smoking, head twisted at an awkward angle.

  Caden stood a few feet away, the tube in his hand steaming. Purple sparks leapt from its surface as Caden fell to his knees, chest heaving. Whatever that tube had done, it sure as hell worked. Ian took a step toward his friend as a howl exploded from within the golden prison.

  Ian raised his right hand into the air and gestured toward Fenris’s prison. All nine keys surged forward like miniature moons, but as they reached the wolf, they shattered into pixie dust that rained down upon the gilded thread of Gleipnir. The smell of burning ozone filled the air as the magical rope went up in silver flames. The writhing wolf bound within its burning cords howled in pain, and Ian was suddenly aware of a huge, imposing presence all around him. The sweltering mass of it made him stumble backward clutching his ears.

  Blood flowed through his hands, dripped down his cheeks, and filled his mouth. Everything tasted metallic and coppery. Red tinged his gaze as he swung his head around, desperate to find out what was out there with him, but aside from Caden and the two downed gods he saw no one. That made no sense. There was definitely something out here. He could feel it deep within him.

  He wiped the blood from his eyes with the back of his hands and took a hesitant step toward the prison. Only the charred remains of Gleipnir remained behind. But how could that be? He should have seen Fenris break free. He was supposed to be large enough to devour the sun after all.

  He took another step forward, and as his foot touched the metal of the prison, something tore into his side, ripping open his flesh and spilling his blood onto the frozen ground. It spattered across the metal as he staggered sideways, clutching his wound with his good hand, trying to staunch the blood flow from the three slashes. He wasn’t quite sure how deep they were, but they burned like a red hot poker thrust into his soul.

  A blow smashed into his face, shattering his nose and sending him sprawling backward onto the snowy dunes. Cold enveloped him, numbing him to the pain as a piercing howl cut through the night sky. He whipped his head toward the sound and saw nothing. Still there was something about the snow in front of him. He could have sworn it shifted slightly. He wasn’t quite how that could be since there was nothing there. At least nothing that he could see.

  “I think Fenris is out here with us,” Caden said, getting slowly to his feet as he tried to wipe the blood from his face with one hand. It looked like the vessels in his eyes had burst, staining them red as he looked around for something to focus on. The tube in his hand steamed in the night air as he waved it through the air in front of him.

  “Brilliant deduction, Watson,” said a voice that raised the hair on the back of Ian’s neck. It was like the first beast in the night that had caused all of mankind to hide in caves, huddled alone in the dark. “Tell me, are you considered the smart one?” Its words rumbled through the air like death and violence, like blood and hunger.

  The snow in front of Caden shifted, and a second later, he went flying across the ice. He hit the ground a few feet away, still clutching the spear. Pain filled his face as he struggled to get to his hands and knees, but he didn’t seem otherwise hurt. Interesting. Whatever it was had torn up Ian pretty good, but then again, it could have killed them both already. Why hadn’t it done so?

  Footprints Ian wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been watching appeared in the snow, ambled toward Caden in a weird sort of drunken shamble. So, the wolf was out here, and for the moment he appeared unsteady. He was just hidden from view. That was his only advantage. Well, that could change.

  “Hey, jackass, over here!” Ian called, flinging a snowball right toward where the center mass of the creature should be. The snowball smacked right into something. The scenery behind it seemed to short circuit for a second, revealing a featureless form of bended light and giving Ian a rough idea of the size of his opponent. Unlike Vidar who was both big enough to have given professional football players swirlies, Fenris was only about five feet tall, which would have been huge for a wolf, but at the moment, he seemed more humanoid than not.

  The image faded, leaving Ian staring at nothing at all. Then something grabbed him by the hair and lifted him into the air. Pain shot through his scalp as hot, fetid breath tickled the flesh on his throat. He could feel the hunger in that breath, the restless energy burning inside it. It stirred things deep within him, rousing the primordial hunger within him. He was famished. This world, while similar in nature to him, offered nothing for him to eat, nothing for him to consume. That was why he had been weak here. Sure it was cold, but what use did the wasteland have for more snow? There was no life to take. This place was dead, but this hungering thing in front of him was very much alive. And he would have it.

  Ian’s fist shot out before he could even think about it. His knuckles broke as they impacted something fleshy. Whatever was holding him aloft released him, and he tumbled to the snow. T
he sound of footsteps crunching in the snow filled his ears as he stared down at his broken right hand, stared at the blood on his knuckles. Before he could stop himself, he brought them to his lips. His tongue snaked across his knuckles.

  It was like tasting electricity. It filled him with power from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, burning up his senses and leaving him with one insatiable thought. More. He needed more.

  He leapt to his feet and sniffed. The smell of wolf filled his nostrils. He whipped his head toward a spot where nothing stood. Only something was there, lurking in the non-shadows. The wind whipped across the plains, whipping up billowing clouds of snow that revealed something standing in its midst. He took a step toward it and inhaled again. It was there, and he would have it. He would sink his teeth into it. He would have more!

  Kim 02:07

  The whole world was fire, burning, and more fire as Kim tumbled through the sky. Incinerator blazed in her hand, the edge so white hot, it boiled the air around them as they plummeted downward, terror ripping her every thought to shreds. She had one hand wrapped around Caleb’s waist, her bare arm pressed against his exposed flesh as Surt bellowed commands in her brain like an angry Charlie Brown schoolteacher.

  It was too hot to breathe without scalding her insides. The moisture on her skin evaporated and her lips cracked. The taste of blood filled her mouth for a split second before her tongue dried out in the heat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything.

  A sea of lava came rushing toward her from below. If she hit it, she was as good as dead. The moment she struck that fire, she would be burned to a cinder, assuming she survived being splattered like a bug. She had no powers over fire, and even if she did, how was she supposed to survive a swan dive into hot freaking lava? No, no, it was impossible!

  “It’s not impossible,” Surt hollered, but his voice was barely a whisper in her ears as the wind rushed by, bringing with it the scent of blackened meat and singed hair. “Concentrate. Allow me to help you. Believe you can do this. Break the chains binding you and conquer the fire, Kim! Use your mantle to bend the flames to your will. Become Victoria!”

  A panic scream tore from Kim’s lips as the realization that she was going to die filled every ounce of her being. There was nothing she could do, no way to escape. She was a fool for coming here, for thinking she could bend fire to her will. It was insane, and soon, she would pay for listening to that insanity. To think she could survive a trip into Muspelheim when she could barely turn on her stove without catching her dinner on fire was absolutely ludicrous.

  “I can’t do this!” Kim cried as Surt reached out around her, enveloping her in his presence. His dark hands slid over hers, bringing Incinerator to bear in front of her. It split the wind, diverting it off of her long enough for her to focus. Flames leapt through the air as lava fell from the sky, but as long as she held the blade it slipped around her, never touching her at all. It bought her a moment to think.

  Kim reached out with her mantle. It was a distant thing inside her, pushed so far down she could scarcely believe it. Had it been that long since she’d called upon her powers? Had it really? The last time she’d used them was during the battle with Jormungand, but that hadn’t been that long ago, had it?

  Even then, she’d never really embraced her powers. Sure, she’d called upon them when it mattered, whipping them out to crush a foe or stop a disaster, but she didn’t know how to do it consciously. She had not trained, not even bothered to try embracing her mantle even a little bit. But maybe that didn’t matter. This was her power, her birthright, and she would use it as she pleased.

  The spark of her mantle leapt to her call, spilling out of her in a surge of bright white light. It flowed down her arms, up over the sword in her grip, across the torso of the boy she held tight.

  “I swear to god if this doesn’t work, I’m going to stamp you from existence, Surt,” she said, but her words were lost as the flames around her died abruptly. Light spilled from Incinerator’s edge as white lightning crackled across the sky behind her like electrical dragonfly wings.

  The ground below her erupted, spitting lava up into the air. Kim braced Incinerator defensively in front of herself. She wasn’t sure what her plan was exactly, but it was something along the lines of cut the lava to shreds with her sword. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very good plan, but then again it wasn’t like she could fly.

  Except she could fly. At least she’d been able to fly the one time with Malcom. She hadn’t even tried to fly since then, but there was nothing stopping her. Hadn’t that been what Malcom had said? Hadn’t everything been inside her head?

  The lava hurtled closer, and as it did, she realized about a zillion fireballs ranging in size from softballs to Volkswagen bugs were flying toward her. It was way too many to try to dodge, but maybe she didn’t have to dodge them, maybe she just needed to cut a path through them.

  She shut her eyes and reached out with her mind, focusing on the power within her, trying to remember what it was like when she had flown. She hadn’t thought about it then. She’d just done it, mostly because at the time, she hadn’t realized she couldn’t. Now that she had done it, there was no reason to think she couldn’t do it again.

  Her eyes snapped open. She saw the world for what it was, a series of chains holding her down, a reality interposing itself upon her. Those things she could conquer. Those things had no hold over her, over Victoria, the horseman of conquest. She could crush it all beneath her heel.

  And she did.

  Kim stopped in midair. The fabric of reality around her broke just a touch as the horizon wobbled. She floated there, watching, waiting. No, she didn’t need to fight through the deluge of fire coming toward her. Those flames were but things of this world, and she could command them.

  She waved Incinerator in front of her, sweeping the flaming blade through the air. White light spilled out of the weapon like a tornado. It swept downward, sucking up the fire and drawing it up into the sword. She felt the flames hit the metal, felt the temperature rise by hundreds of degrees, but she ignored it, pushed it down. It did not matter.

  Surt cried out, not in anguish or pain, but in triumph. The whole of the fire world darkened as Incinerator drank up the fire. As the last of the flames vanished within the molten steel blade, Surt’s smile stretched across the back of her mind, filling her with a sense of triumph. She’d done it.

  The lava burst through her tornado, obliterating it like it was made from nothing more than chewing gum and candlewax. Kim shrieked, her control faltering as flame unlike anything she’d ever felt before surged up around her, wrapping her in a cocoon of burning death.

  “Whoever you are! Whatever you want! I won’t let you hurt these people!” a familiar voice screamed. Kim turned toward it in time to see a solid wall of lava rushing toward her.

  A fist came rushing through the rivulets of flame and smashed into the underside of her chin. She hurtled backward through the air, her grip slipping free of Incinerator’s hilt. The blade tumbled from her hands as the sky above her shattered into a million shards of flitting white light.

  Her vision dimmed, fading to black around the edges. Amy stood upon a platform of lava. Her back was to Kim. She must not have recognized her through the light and the fire. At least, that’s what Kim hoped because clutched in her other hand was a katana as black as space itself. It was the same one she’d seen Ian using. The same one that had made him do terrible things. Why did Amy have it?

  Amy reached out and plucked Incinerator from the air. The moment she wrapped her hand around the hilt of the weapon, a gout of flame shot from its tip, painting the sky in dancing oranges and blues. She turned to face Kim. Her eyes were ablaze with determination as gobs of lava hovered in the air around her. The whole of the sky darkened as she brought the weapons up to bear.

  “Kim?” she asked, stopping in mid-motion. “Is that you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “You have?” Kim asked, relief f
looding her voice. She was pretty sure Amy wouldn’t attack her again, since just being near the girl was enough to ease the loneliness in the pit of her stomach. Something about Amy’s closeness made her feel a lot better, and for a moment, she wondered if Amy felt the same way. Was that why Amy had been looking for her or was there another reason?

  “Yes. It’s why I came here.” Amy gestured at the surroundings. “I needed to find you. Why else would I be here? To work on my sun tan?”

  “To be perfectly honest, I didn’t exactly expect to find you here.” Kim shrugged sheepishly. “I went to save this guy.” She gestured toward the unconscious Caleb with her free hand. He was still slumped against her even though she’d been knocked halfway across the sky. Thin braids of gilded light were wrapped around his body, lashing him to her. So that’s why they hadn’t been separated.

  “Who is that guy?” Amy asked, moving closer to take a better look. As she did, the lava spread out beneath her feet into a thin platform of molten lava. Kim wasn’t quite sure how Amy was controlling the lava, but then again her mantle had seemed to control fire. It was a neat perk, especially in the heart of Muspelheim. It made Kim extraordinarily glad Amy hadn’t actually wanted to kill her.

  “He’s the guy who owns that sword you’re holding. His name’s Caleb. He’s from the same race of people as Sabastin. Our teacher, Mr. Matthers had captured him, and Caleb was trying to burn his way out. Thankfully, I managed to stop him from killing Mr. Matters.” Kim felt a grin spread across her face. “You might say I single-handedly averted Ragnarok.”

  “Wait, timeout.” Amy held up her hands and looked like she was going to make a timeout gesture, but found her hands full. She stared at the two swords for a moment before shrugging dejectedly. “Why would Mr. Matthers capture Caleb, and what’s so special about his sword?”