Dark Horse

by E. A. Copen

  I shook my head. “Your whole argument is based on a false assumption. The world doesn’t have to end. Humans don’t need to go extinct.”

  “No, we don’t need to.” Beth took the flashlight back and used it to nudge me forward. “But it’s too late for anything else. All you have to do to know that is watch the news. Climate change. Melting polar ice caps. Soon, it’ll be widespread famine. Disease. War. Death. You of all people should know that’s how it all ends for us. You should be working with Loki to save your people.”

  “Our people,” I corrected. “You might not remember, but you’re still as human as me. Just because we’re Horsemen doesn’t mean we have to accept the apocalypse as an inevitability. We’ve gone thousands of years without one. There’s no reason to assume we can’t just keep on going. Humans are stubborn. We’ll survive. Or, if we go, we’ll go kicking and screaming. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  We finally reached the third floor, marked by a decaying plastic sign. The fire door hung on its hinges, twisted as if some explosion had blown it open. Pale light emanated from the hallway, the source of which I couldn’t make out.

  “In,” Beth commanded.

  I went.

  The third floor was barely recognizable as a hospital corridor. A hallway stretched either way with holes in the walls at seemingly random intervals. Some of them might’ve been doors, but others were just holes made when looters came to rip the wiring out of the walls.

  The two Valkyries led me through what must’ve once been an operating theater. Charity Hospital had once been a teaching hospital, which meant medical students shuffled through every day to watch experienced doctors do their work.

  I stepped into the circular room with its sloped floors and broken chairs all facing toward the center. An old metal operating table sat at the bottom, a broken light hanging above it. Seated on that operating table was the trickster god himself. Loki.

  He stayed where he was as I entered, hands clasped over one knee. Despite donning a twenty-first century suit, shaving and combing his hair, he still looked like the epitome of a Norse god with those thick shoulders and the sharp chin.

  He looked up at me, his expression grave. “Welcome, Lazarus. Thank you, ladies. You can wait outside.”

  “You sure that’s smart?” I asked, sliding along the uppermost row of chairs. “Being in a room alone with me? You are aware that I want to kill you, right?”

  “Absolutely. However, I’m willing to hedge my bets. You won’t strike at me until you’ve at least heard what I have to say. Besides, you’ll need me. At least until you know what I’ve done to Emma.”

  He didn’t smirk or smile. I wished he had so I could treat him like the villain I knew he was. But Loki was like that, tricky bastard.

  I stopped in front of a set of stairs that led straight down to where he stood. The auditorium doors slammed shut, sounding too much like prison gates. “And what is it you want from me, Loki? We’re not exactly friends, and you know I’m not going to just come over to your side. You’ve got nothing left to hold over my head.”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.” He waved a hand through the air and stood. “Do you recall Ikelos? The Titan of nightmares?”

  Boy did I. And I thought killing gods was a tough job. Taking out the Titan had taken nearly everything I had. “Sure. What about it?”

  “I’m sure you’re aware Ikelos wasn’t the only Titan to escape their prison in the Greek underworld.”

  I shifted my grip on the staff in my hands and paced down toward him a few steps. “No, you decided to let all of them free. I figure they’re all working for you in some capacity or another, trying to bring about Ragnarök. When the time is right, you’ll pit your Titans against the gods in a battle that’ll destroy the world. Or, most of it. How am I doing so far?”

  “Mostly right,” he admitted with a shrug. “Except for one thing. Not all of the Titans are working for me. It’s true I was able to cut a deal with most of them. They’re simple creatures. Most signed on for the chance of vengeance alone.”

  “Most?” I stopped, planting the staff. “What do you mean most?”

  Loki ran his fingers over the dusty operating table. “There was one Titan I was unable to sway, no matter what I offered him. A Titan so bent on destruction and chaos that even I couldn’t contain him.”

  I suppressed a shiver. If the trickiest trickster of them all couldn’t contain him, what the hell was I dealing with? “Which Titan is this exactly?”

  Loki folded his hands behind his back. “His name is Typhon, the father of all monsters, and if you don’t help me stop him, he’ll wipe this city off the map in a hurricane that will make Katrina look like a summer rain shower.”

  Chapter Two

  I tried to imagine what such a storm would look like. Katrina was the worst hurricane in my lifetime. While I knew deadlier storms had hit the coast, I had no point of reference for such an event. A storm brought by a Titan would be catastrophic in ways no city could prepare for or recover from, not even New Orleans.

  But that was Loki’s story. He had yet to present any proof this was true. Could be he was twisting things, trying to convince me to kill someone who didn’t actually need killing. Of course, if he wanted to do that, he had only to give me the two names I owed him. No need for such an elaborate story.

  “Why me?” I asked, shifting the staff in my hand. “You’ve got Beth. I’m going to assume you’ve also likely got access to Pestilence if you wanted, plus dozens of other Titans under your command. Titans, a god or two, and a few Horsemen should be more than enough to take out one storm Titan, right?”

  Loki tilted his head to one side and squinted. “None of us has ever defeated a Titan before. True, there are gods who were involved in the first Titan war still living, but that was before my time. As for the other Titans, they’re unwilling to assist in this matter.”

  “They’re scared.” I fought to keep myself from laughing. The all-powerful, scary Titans everyone was so terrified of were afraid of this guy. They’d turned and run away at the first mention of his name, leaving Loki with no choice but to reach out to the only person in recorded history to kill a Titan. Me. He needed me, which meant I could cut a deal to my advantage. “And Beth and Felicia must have no idea what they’re doing, am I right?”

  Loki nodded once.

  “And you just expected that I’d march in here and agree to help you? Why? Because we’re such good friends?”

  “Because New Orleans is your home. You’re not the sort of man who would let a monster destroy a city out of spite for me.”

  I crossed my arms. “Why do you care if New Orleans gets wrecked? Aren’t you on board to destroy the whole world anyway? New Orleans is kinda part of the world, you know. If I help you, I’m just delaying the inevitable. No, you want my help, you’ve got to agree to give up on pursuing Ragnarök.”

  “I can’t do that,” Loki said, shaking his head. “Ragnarök isn’t something I can just walk away from. It was foretold. Prophecies must be fulfilled. When the time is right. It’s not yet time for the destruction to begin.”

  “Not until you’ve gotten all your ducks in a row, huh?”

  His silence was the only answer I needed. Loki was on board for the apocalypse, but things hadn’t lined up just right yet. He was waiting for more pieces to fall into place, and if Typhon wrecked things before he was ready, it’d screw Loki over.

  That should’ve made my decision easy. Walk away and let Typhon destroy New Orleans, and maybe I’d have a better chance of stopping Loki long-term. He’d look weak in front of his allies because he couldn’t control Typhon, or manipulate me, and his whole plan would fall apart. I didn’t even have to lift a finger, just turn the other way and let thousands die.

  I couldn’t do it.

  Well, if Loki isn’t willing to give up his apocalyptic dreams, maybe I can get something else. I gripped my staff, planted it on the next stair down and climbed down to stand closer to Loki.
“What do I get for helping you?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You mean besides saving your beloved city? I will waive the two other names you owe me.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I don’t have to do that. You’re going to help me, Lazarus, no matter what I offer you. Leaving the innocent people of New Orleans to die isn’t in you. Whatever offer I make you, you’ll accept it.”

  I gritted my teeth, knowing he was right.

  He stepped forward, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “How about I sweeten the deal by letting you work with your old flame? Maybe the two of you can find some common ground and come to an understanding.” He raised his fingers as if to snap and paused. “Oh, that’s right. Emma and Beth are both old flames of yours, aren’t they? Seems like you’re a dangerous man to know. Ah, what the hell? Have them both. I don’t care. Two is always better than one, am I wrong?” He snapped his fingers before I could answer and the doors at the top of the medical theater opened.

  Beth stepped in one side while Emma came in the other.

  “You two will assist the Pale Horseman,” Loki commanded. “Whatever he needs, make sure he gets it. Spare no expense and no luxury.” He turned his back to me.

  “We’re not finished, Loki.” I stepped toward him.

  He smirked at me over his shoulder. “I believe we are, for now. Whatever you need to know, Emma and Beth can fill you in. They’ll take care of you until I’m ready to check in again. The clock is ticking, Lazarus. I’d get busy if I were you.”

  Emma stopped on my right while Beth came up on my left. I glanced at each of them before turning back to Loki, only to find him gone. The bastard had disappeared the second I looked away.

  Fine, I thought, turning and stomping back up the stairs. He’s made a mistake, giving me Emma and Beth. Loki thought he could use them to spy on me or twist me so I’d come around and work for him in the end. He was wrong. I’d stand against him even if I was the last person in the world to do so. But working closely with Emma, I might be able to break through whatever mind control he had over her.

  And Beth... Despite her mental and physical transformation since taking on the mantle of the Black Horseman, I hoped there was still good in her somewhere. I could save her too. All I needed was enough time to figure out how, and time was the one thing we were already painfully short on.

  A week wasn’t much time to figure out how to stop a Titan, even with my limited experience. With the last one, I’d gotten lucky and figured out that I could shut him down by cutting him off from his power source, nightmares. Typhon was supposed to be the father of all monsters, a Titan of storms. I had no idea what his source of power was, or if I could even stop him.

  I needed to know more, and that meant hitting the books. Normally, I’d head over to the library, but it was the middle of the night. There were a few fast food places with free wi-fi I could use, but it’d be awkward, sitting there on my computer with Beth and Emma staring at me. I needed to figure out what to send them to do while I did some digging.

  “What do you two know about Typhon?” I asked as we reached the stairs.

  “He’s a Titan,” Beth said. “Father of monsters such as the Hydra, Chimera, Cerberus, the Sphinx, Medusa... He’s also attributed in Greek myth to be the father of all storm winds.”

  “Any idea how true it is?” I put my hand down on the banister and into something sticky. My stomach clenched as I imagined what it might be, but I forced myself to wipe whatever it was on my shirt without looking.

  Beth shook her head.

  “Fenrir would know,” Emma volunteered.

  I halted halfway down the stairs and turned around to frown at her. “Giant creepy telepathic wolf I freed from Hell?”

  Emma nodded. “He’s made his temporary home not far from here in one of the abandoned forts. We could talk to him. He’s who Loki would go to with questions about the Titans.”

  Made sense considering he was one. My last run-in with Fenrir was enough to leave me with nightmares. I’d freed the half-starved wolf from his chains in the Norse underworld on my way through, the price of gaining entry to the next realm of Hell on my quest to save Emma’s soul. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was helping to kick off Ragnarök there too. At least I’d gotten Fenrir to accept a deal not to kill any humans, which should’ve meant we’d be safe talking to him. Not that I’d enjoy the experience. The way he shouted into my head would probably leave me with a headache.

  I turned back around with a sigh and wiped sweat from my forehead. “Okay, but the only way out to those forts is by boat, and I don’t exactly have a boat. Do you?”

  Neither of them volunteered a vessel.

  That left us with a few options. We could rent a boat or find someone who owned one. I didn’t know the first thing about sailing, despite having been out on Lake Pontchartrain several times. My boating trips always seemed to end in disaster, and there was no reason to assume this one wasn’t since we were heading out to meet with a Titan. Replacing a boat wasn’t something I could afford to do, which meant a rental was out.

  Maybe Jean knows where we can get a boat. I hadn’t seen the disembodied spirit of Jean Lafitte around much lately, but he still popped in every once in a while. I could contact him with a spell if needed, though he wouldn’t be pleased to learn I was working with Loki, or that I might be using his connections to go take on a Titan. Then again, he’d gotten excited at the prospect of killing a Kraken. He was unpredictable, Jean Lafitte.

  I pushed through the doors of the dilapidated hospital and sucked in a lungful of fresh air. It was still hot and humid outside, but after choking on the moldy, trapped air inside the building, even the sour, humid air of New Orleans felt like heaven.

  It was still dark out with dawn several hours away, which meant we wouldn’t be setting sail anytime soon. Adventurous as I was, even I knew it was stupid for a bunch of inexperienced folks to sail out into the Gulf in the dark. Mid-morning would be more ideal, which would give us plenty of time to gather some supplies.

  “Where to first?” Beth asked, charging past me.

  “First, we’re going to need to get some supplies.” I followed her to the barrier and helped her up over it, although we both knew she didn’t need my help. “I’m not going out on a boat without at least a few days’ provisions. Second, I’m going to need to contact a friend about getting a boat. While I’m doing that, you ladies are going to hit the internet and get me weather reports and forecasts for the next couple days.” I offered my hand to Emma who ignored it and pulled herself over the wall all on her own.

  At the top, she turned around and offered me a hand up. I took her hand and hauled myself over the barrier with a grunt.

  A storm that size would already be on the radar, but if it was, I hadn’t heard anything about it. We needed to get on top of that weather and fast. They’d be talking about evacuating the city, which would make our job more difficult.

  Even an evacuation wouldn’t be enough. If Katrina had proven anything, it was that the city and state had no idea how to handle a natural disaster of that size and scope.

  I glanced at the clock on the dash as we got into the car. It was 4:15, too early for us to find anywhere public with open computers, and I’d left my laptop at the house. “We need internet access and computers. Any ideas?”

  The two exchanged glances before shaking their heads.

  I turned around in the seat with a grunt and put the car in gear. “Twenty-four hour superstore it is then.”

  Chapter Three

  If you’ve ever walked into a Walmart at five in the morning, you know the meaning of graveyard shift. No one goes to a big box store like that before the sun comes up except homeless people looking to freshen up and employees who wish they were anywhere else but there. Because the employee to customer ratio was really high, the employees watched us like hawks as we made our way back to the electronics section.

  Of course, all the computers were behind lock
ed glass display cases, and we had to wait forever for someone to come with the key. By the time an exhausted-looking manager appeared and unlocked the case to get out two of their cheapest laptops, traffic in the store had picked up. Tired mothers in retail uniforms pushed around carts in a hurry to grab a few boxes of cereal. I watched a trucker grab two thumb drives off the shelf without looking and toss them into his cart. He had no idea he was standing one aisle over from two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and a Valkyrie. Probably had no idea there were such things as Titans, gods, and fae either. If I had my way, he’d get to keep ignoring the supernatural all around him for a good, long time.

  Beth whipped out a black credit card for the purchase, so I grabbed a bunch of snacks and sodas to add to the conveyor belt. She gave me a sideways look, frowned and picked up an energy drink, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “Titan fighting fuel,” I explained.

  “How do you survive on this stuff?” Emma added a couple bottles of water, pens, and a phone charger that’d fit in a cigarette lighter.

  “I ate prison food for six years. You’d be surprised what I can survive on.”

  Beth paid for everything and the three of us grabbed the bags, loading them into the car.

  The early morning air smelled like motor oil and rain, though the rain was a lie. It hung on every breath, a false promise. Heat lightning flashed in the distance, red spikes of energy stabbing at the trusses of the twin cantilever bridges known as the Crescent City Connection.

  The bridges connected the south bank of New Orleans to the French Quarter in the north. I drove across the bridges every day going from my inherited home in Algiers to my shop on Magazine Street and then home again, barely thinking about it most days. Driving across it under the threatening sky that morning, I was strangely acutely aware of the massive steel structure all around me. Guess driving across a giant lightning rod didn’t sit well with me. At least traffic was light.