The Tower

by L. A. McGinnis

  In all his visions, in all his time, that was the pivotal moment he’d been trying to avoid.

  In the end, he’d charged in like a blind, lovesick fool and failed to change a single thing.

  A bitter smile crossed Odin’s face, while he searched that bleak, barren landscape for answers. No, one thing had changed. He could see again. All the better to note his failings, he supposed. Whatever magic that bastard used to forge his dark power, had worked its devilry on him, as well. Digging deep within himself, he plumbed his renewed wellspring of magic, the one that had been so thoroughly drained months ago.

  His power was depthless. Saturated with strength. Heavy with the weight of unused magic, ready to be expended. But edged with a sharpness he’d previously lacked.

  Good. They’d need it.

  And since the moment he’d worked so hard to avoid had come and gone, it seemed right to embrace this new power. Just as Ava had.

  Fine. The thought flashed through his mind an instant before the power surged through him. Then perhaps I’ll become exactly what she is.

  The next thing.

  44

  “You are such an asshole.”

  Odin nodded. “Clearly. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  After too long, Balder spat out the words Odin had been waiting for. “Fine. I’ll go with you to save Ava because you know I can’t leave anyone behind. But it’s not just up to me.” He did the talk-to-the-hand move. “This mission has to align with our best interests. Which means we put this to a vote.”

  At Odin’s scowl, Balder chuckled. “You’ve been gone for months. This is no longer a benevolent dictatorship. It’s more of a democracy now.” The smile that twisted Balder’s mouth looked uncomfortably…mocking. “Think of it as a social experiment.” The smile widening, Balder clapped him on the back. “Have no fear, you’ll do just fine with this new arrangement.”

  Although, from the looks Gabriella and Morgane fixed on him when he walked into the kitchen, Odin seriously doubted it would be fine. Morgane had questions. And Gabriella would want answers.

  “I’d call you old man this morning, but unless my eyes deceive me, it looks like you got a reprieve from Father Time.” Gabriella’s keen eyes bore straight through him before turning to Balder, as if she knew they’d just reached some kind of unholy alliance.

  “Gabbie…”

  “Don’t you Gabbie me, Balder. You two are up to something, aren’t you? What the hell—what about you and me? The whole yin and yang thing? Or was that just bullshit?”

  Humor tugged at the corner of Odin’s mouth, but if he so much as smiled, he was a dead man. He had to duck his head at Balder’s plaintive, “C’mon, Gabbie…”

  “We were cooking things up between us long before you even existed,” Odin cut in smoothly. “But, as Balder pointed out, this is now a democracy or some such horseshit. Which means before we do anything, I assume there will be some discussion?”

  “Is that what you call it?” Morgane’s voice, cold and harsh cut across them. “From what I hear, you didn’t discuss a fucking thing before you went charging in there yesterday and almost got everyone killed.”

  “I was trying to…”

  “Your mistake cost me my sister.” Not a flicker of emotion marked Morgane’s face as she cut him off. “I’ve had it with you immortals screwing with our lives. First, Hel and her Grim kill my family. Then I get Ava back, only to lose her again to the biggest bad on the planet.”

  “Morgane, if you’ll just listen to me, I was trying…”

  “Save it, Odin, it doesn’t matter. From what Gabriella told me, she’s long gone. Ava’s come back from… Shit, she’s come back from death itself, but I have a feeling this time.” A visible shudder went through the blonde. “I’m not sure she can bounce back from this. It’s like the entire universe is conspiring against her.”

  Odin caught Morgane when she muscled past him, pulled her in, explaining, “I went in there to save her.” He released her arm, closed the distance between them until his words were little more than breath in her ear. “And for your information, Domenic is not the biggest bad in the universe.”

  Without a word, she stalked away. Clearly the biggest bad in the universe didn’t even deserve a parting shot. Nor from Gabriella, who followed without a backwards glance.

  “Care to tell me what that was all about?” Balder asked, his tone sarcastic.

  “Not particularly.”

  “Well, it’s good to have you back, I suppose. Asshole though you are,” he clarified.

  Odin caught that tone again—and sarcastic wasn’t Balder’s style. Earnest and honest was Balder’s style. On him, sarcasm just sounded…wrong. “What’s up with you?”

  “What about me?” Balder sat down, arms spread wide across three chairs, come-fuck-with-me written all over his face.

  Odin’s gaze narrowed on the golden-haired god, searching for what—besides his shitty attitude—was out of place. “I came back from Gavrinis restored to my old self.” And then some. “Can you say the same?”

  “I’m fine. Same as ever. I feel like taking on the whole world right now.” The grin grew even more insouciant.

  Odin supposed that was a good thing. “And Mir? What about him?”

  “Talked to him this morning, practically gave me an aneurism. Going on and on a mile a minute. Said he was up all night, his mind won’t quit churning out ideas. Said it’s like the memories don’t end. They go on and on and on, like a well that…”

  “…has no bottom.” Odin finished for him. “And Gabriella?”

  “No change.” Balder’s face tightened a bit.

  “None at all?” Odin found it impossibly odd that the only mortal in the group would walk out unscathed, when the rest of them were showing signs of…transformation.

  “Not that I can see, anyway.” Balder’s grin grew serious. “She seems tired and upset the mission went bad. Thanks to you, mostly.”

  “I had my reasons,” Odin offered, the oblique explanation the only one he was willing to give. “So, Mir got his memories back, I’ve recovered my magic. Aside from your newly smart-ass attitude, what else has changed?”

  Under Odin’s scrutiny, Balder squirmed. “Nope. Same old, same old.” Acting shifty, he diverted, “So you’ve got your powers back, huh?”

  Odin nodded. “It appears that way. The Orobus’s power surge changed us all, something I’m sure he wasn’t planning on.”

  “But he has Ava.”

  “For now,” Odin conceded.

  “For now,” Balder agreed. “Thank the gods we’ve gained back some of what we’ve lost. I wonder though…” A strange look crossed his face, just for a second, as he focused on Odin. “Do you feel any different, afterwards? As if there’s an edge of… I don’t know…darkness in you?” There was a hint of fear to the question, as if the golden god knew the answer, just didn’t want it confirmed.

  “No,” Odin denied flatly. “My vision’s returned, and I have my full powers. I’d like my ravens back, but I can divine the future well enough without them. There’s nothing strange about any of it.” Except maybe it might not be enough to reverse their fortunes.

  Which settled the matter for Balder, as he reached out and took Odin’s hand in a firm grip. “All right then, I’m in.”

  “Look at you boys, making the deal of the century.” Whatever Hel’s game was, she sure had a knack for turning up at the wrong time. “Let me guess. Rescue mission? I’ve got news for you, boys. Your fairy princess isn’t a princess any longer, and...”

  Balder’s hand snaked out and wrapped around her neck, so tight her last words were choked off in a burst of spittle. There was a careful, quiet menace to him, as if he could kill her and not even bat an eye. Odin wasn’t sure the attitude was entirely for effect.

  “Yeah, a rescue mission. Want to come with?” He must have squeezed tighter because her breath exploded in a long, wet wheeze. “We could use you as bait.”

  “Pu
t her down, Balder,” Odin ordered. “What are you doing? Nothing will be accomplished by this.” With an easy smile, Balder dropped her to the floor, watching with amusement while she climbed gracelessly to her feet.

  “I told you below, and I’ll tell you now—cross us again, and I’ll kill you.” That cold smile remained on Balder’s face as Hel scrambled away, muttering something under her breath about maniacs and straightjackets.

  “You want to explain again how you’re still the same?” Odin narrowed his eyes, following Hel’s hasty retreat before swinging his gaze back to Balder, who looked for all the world like an innocent choirboy. “What was that bullshit about not being different?”

  “What do you think?” Balder asked madly. “It’s like my moral compass is spinning. Not that we should trust Hel, since she’d have left us all to die if Gabbie hadn’t turned the tables on her.” He took a deep breath, then another, then scrubbed his face desperately. “But please, keep me away from Hel. Because if you don’t, I’m seriously going to kill her.”

  Holy shit.

  “Does Gabriella know?”

  “No, and she’s not going to. Keep this between you and me, for the time being.” His face was desolate. “I don’t know how, but I’ll fix this. I just have to learn to discipline myself better.”

  “She’ll catch on if you go around choking everyone you’re pissed off at.”

  “I’m working on it. I just need…to figure out what happened and how to control myself.”

  Balder was so clearly not in control, Odin wondered how he’d missed it. “You’ve got to tell her. She’s a doctor, she can help you. What about the whole yin and yang bullshit thing?”

  “I know, I know.” Balder’s face was grim. “But how can I tell her about… Shit, I don’t even understand what’s happening to me. One minute, I’m fine, the next, I’m about to kill someone. I feel like I’m teetering on the edge between good and evil.”

  “Since when do you ever feel like that? You’re the most self-righteous, honorable asshole in all the realms. Control is your middle name.”

  “Not after yesterday. I’m a fucking mess.”

  Did he even have a moral compass anymore? Odin wondered. Worse yet, if this was what happened to Balder, what was going on with Mir?

  “Right the fuck behind you, big guy.” Mir punched him in the shoulder, so hard it actually hurt. “Can hear you a mile away. Dude, you’re thinking so loud you’re practically yelling. It’s distracting as fuck. Try, will you, to keep it down?” Swaying, Mir grinned like a lunatic.

  Balder smiled back. It wasn’t a nice smile.

  “So… Let me get this straight—Balder has done a complete one eighty personality-wise, and you hear people’s thoughts? Anything else we should know? Can you turn back time? Because that would be helpful.”

  “Nope. Nope. None of those things. Just hear people’s thoughts and know pretty much every bit of information that has ever happened since the beginning of time. Everything, dude, like all the things, ever since the universe was created by the first gods. Wonder what a shooting star sounds like? No? Well, this guy knows.” Mir winked. “Me, I know everything, and it’s all up here.” He pointed at his head, his eyes rolling until they showed the whites. “You wanna know something? Just ask me—go on, ask—c’mon, I bet I have the answer.”

  “Sooo, no negative effects?” Odin’s eyes slid over to Balder.

  “I’ll probably never sleep again, but who needs sleep? And I feel like I constantly have a million browser tabs open. And I’m driving Syd crazy, so she kicked me out of our bedroom. Which had better just be temporary because I miss her like crazy. Otherwise it’s all good. You?”

  Hunter chose that exact minute to stick her head in.

  “Guys, you’re up. Loki and Fen are back from the city, and they’ve got news. It’s not good.” She fixed an appraising eye on Odin. “Hey. You look pretty alive for a blind, dead guy. You should sit in on the meeting. For old time’s sake.”

  “I think I will. Leave you lot in charge for a few months, and the whole world goes to shit.”

  Hunter actually grinned. “Let’s see if we can get things back on track.”

  “You have an idea?”

  “No, but I’ll bet Mir’s got about a hundred.”

  But Mir wasn’t looking at Odin. He was staring straight at Balder, as if he’d had some kind of revelation. “Forget my ideas—of which I have over a thousand—thank you very much. Because there’s only one idea that matters.” He punched Balder in the shoulder. “Gabriella’s.”

  “Gabriella’s, what?” Balder groaned. “Oh, you mean Gabriella’s idea. You plucked that out of my brain?”

  “Straight outta your thoughts, buddy. Excellent plan, BTW. We’ll get Tyr involved, since he can offer some pointers, been there, done that, sort of thing. And once we get the salient points hammered out, then we put together a team, we go have a little pow-wow with those bitches, and get the ball rolling and wham, we’ll be all set.” Mir hadn’t even paused for breath.

  Balder’s face tightened up, and Odin thought he might be imagining his hands around Mir’s neck now. Anger issues, much?

  “You stay out of my head, Mir, I swear to the gods, if you read my thoughts again, I’ll…”

  “Everybody’s. I read everybody’s thoughts, so don’t get your panties in a wad. It saves time, speaking of which, don’t we have a meeting to go to?” Jesus Christ, it was like speed taking speed.

  What a crew, Odin marveled, settling in at the back of the room as the others filled the empty chairs in front of him. The sure bets weren’t so sure anymore, he realized, his gaze resting on the back of Balder’s head, and Mir’s constantly bobbing one. And then there were the wild cards, he thought, picking out Gabriella and Morgane. This wasn’t the world he’d left. Not by a long shot.

  Loki and Fen stood up, faces tired and drawn, and started talking.

  Odin would love to hear more about this plan of Gabriella’s.

  But for now, he’d settle on how to kill the thousand or so Dark Elves closing in on their position.

  45

  For the first time since she’d gotten back her earthly body, Ava was scared.

  Or as scared as she could be, because at the moment she was a prisoner—locked into this tiny, inviolate part of her mind—and a monster owned the rest of her.

  Her lovely, living body—flesh and bone and blood and breath.

  Her glorious mind.

  Her wicked mouth.

  All of that was gone now, a puppet controlled by strings held by an invisible, dark master. But she’d keep what she could, Ava promised herself, even as the darkness clawed at her little refuge, hoping to gouge this little piece of herself out of her very own head. The darkness was strong and tenacious and never gave up, digging, scraping at her with sharp fingers, trying to pry its way inside.

  But she was stubborn as well and held on tight, not letting it penetrate her barriers. This is mine, you bastard, and I’m not letting go.

  Sure, she might have opened the door, that day outside the Tower. Invited it in. But David Domenic luring her to the Gavrinis Cairn had hammered the final nail in this fleshy coffin formerly called her body. He’d fooled her. And she’d fallen for it.

  She should have been more careful. Less arrogant. But she’d been so sure she had the upper hand, so sure she’d visit yet another secret realm, gather another piece of intelligence, learn another thing about the Orobus. Gain another tool to use against the Dark God. She’d been a fool, was what she’d been.

  Pulling the tattered vestiges of humility around her like a shield, she erected another mental barrier between her and this evil thing that sought to devour this last remaining piece of her.

  Not going to happen.

  Concentrating, she recalled Morgane’s laughter. Her mother’s fingers in her hair.

  And the silvery eyes of a god who’d never told her he loved her.

  It took enormous effort to hang on, to endure this e
xistence, trapped inside herself. But it took enormous effort to do everything. And this was all she had left.

  So that was what she did. Endured.

  And then—slowly, ever so slowly—she began to gnaw away at the tips of those clawing fingers.

  46

  For seemingly the hundredth time, Gabriella went over her plan, searching for weaknesses.

  There were too many to count.

  But a few hours ago, they’d voted, and there was only one way to go. Forward.

  She sighed, feeling Balder’s hand brush the back of her neck. His touch was a warm benediction, that he was still here. That they both were. “It’s a good plan, Gabbie,” he noted, leaning in over her shoulder.

  “It’s not perfect. It might not work.”

  “It might not,” he conceded, “but it’s well thought out and sound. You and Tyr went through it enough times, anticipated potential problems.”

  “The ones we know of,” she corrected him softly. But there were too many variables. “We told you everything we know. Based on the Fates’ behavior last time, this approach is our best chance, given the circumstances.” With Balder’s hand on the back of her neck, she felt steadier.

  “We go to the Fates. Fen goes to the Morrigan. Then we pool our resources. Unity is strength. It’s the best we can hope for,” he repeated calmly.

  Except, the best they could hope for always held the ring of failure for her. Right up there with thoughts and prayers. She traced a finger over the papers spread out on the table. How many times had she stood exactly like this, leaning over plans, whispering plots, hoping for success? But always alone. Her spine straightened a bit more. Not alone. Not this time.

  “Why us, do you think, Balder?” she asked softly. “Why do you think it’s come down to us?” She’d wondered this plenty over these past few weeks. Were they chosen? Or were they just the only ones left?

  He shrugged. “Maybe the threads all intersect. Maybe this was just how it was meant to happen. I don’t know.” She felt the slightest brush of his lips in her hair. “I’ve always been a soldier, Gabbie. Which means I don’t question the universe. I only do what has to be done.”