Blades of Ash: An Unbreakable Sword Series Prequel (The Unbreakable Sword Book 5)

by S. M. Schmitz

  The walls began to crumble as the ground shook violently as if the scorpion men had returned to bring their own world down around them. Badb cast one last worried glance at Athena before leaving the Sumerians’ highest heaven to return to Murias, but Athena wasn’t with them.

  Agreements between gods were binding, so she’d gone to Hades to free the goddess of memory who’d been trapped by the river Lethe for millennia.

  And with Mnemosyne free, every god who’d aided in her imprisonment could be at her mercy, forgetting their own agreements so Fate would punish them all.

  Chapter Six

  Badb stood in front of the finished tapestries in the Dagda’s hall, admiring Lugh’s brilliant work and the careful attention to the smallest details in each one. He hadn’t finished the tapestry of his Spear yet, which still lay in his workroom in their home. She gently touched the Dagda’s Cauldron and tried to imagine what it would look like when the enchantment came alive. Dian Cécht, the Dagda’s son and their healer, had died years ago, but so far, his heir had yet to return.

  “What’s troubling you?” Lugh asked, entering the great hall and tossing something on the table. Badb glanced over her shoulder at the pile of books her boyfriend had brought with him. As the historian of the Tuatha Dé, he’d most likely been looking for some way to prevent Mnemosyne from interfering with their memories.

  “What’s troubling me?” Badb repeated. “Lugh, Athena just agreed to release a goddess who has the power to interfere with our memories. And she hates us!”

  Lugh shrugged and pointed to the books on the table. “Be careful about the agreements you make and with whom you make them. If Mnemosyne doesn’t know about it, how can she possibly interfere?”

  Badb scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, is that all we have to do for the rest of our lives?”

  “We don’t really have a choice,” Lugh countered. “Athena made the deal, so unless we want to turn our backs on the Olympians, we’ll abide by it.”

  “We should have stopped her,” the Dagda sighed, leaning against the doorframe into his hall.

  “We tried,” Badb insisted.

  “Did we?” the Dagda asked. “Because I’ve seen you talk her into some pretty stupid shit, Badb.”

  “Oh, so this is my fault now?” Badb yelled.

  “I didn’t say that,” the Dagda protested.

  “It sounds like you did,” Lugh countered. “And this is no more Badb’s fault than yours or mine.”

  “You all make it sound like I’ve damned us all,” Athena said, pushing past the Dagda to enter the hall.

  Badb threw her hands up and grunted at her best friend. “How could you do this, Athena?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Athena shot back. “An is dead, and the highest heaven is destroyed.”

  “And are you going to drag Perses into Asgard in exchange for freeing another Titan who’ll eventually try to kill us all?” Badb snapped.

  “Stop,” Lugh ordered. “Both of you. What’s done is done. Be careful about the deals you make with anyone outside of our family because if Mnemosyne finds out, she can make you forget it.”

  “So this is it then,” the Dagda said. “We’ll have to invade Asgard on our own.”

  “Yeah,” Lugh agreed. “But we’ve defeated the Norse before. Our alliance with the Egyptians makes us the most powerful group of gods in the world.”

  “Defeating the Norse and destroying Asgard are two completely different tasks, Lugh,” Badb argued.

  Lugh pointed to the stack of books and nodded. “I’ve been reading about…”

  But movement in the hallway distracted him, because it wasn’t just anyone nearing them. Poseidon had arrived.

  The Greek god lurched slowly into the Dagda’s great hall, collapsing into one of the chairs at the table. When Athena knelt beside him, he didn’t seem to notice her presence.

  “Uncle,” she said gently, “you must lead us now.”

  Poseidon flipped open one of Lugh’s books and absentmindedly turned pages. “This invasion of Asgard… we can’t. Not now.”

  “Poseidon,” Athena whispered.

  “I have to leave my sea,” he murmured.

  “You’d probably have to sooner or later anyway,” the Dagda offered.

  Poseidon groaned and buried his face in his hands. “How can Zeus be dead? And by the hands of a Sumerian?”

  “It’s Nergal’s spirits,” Lugh explained. “None of us are powerful enough to withstand them. Unfortunately, Nergal took off before Perses completely destroyed the highest heaven so he’s still out there somewhere. And I doubt he’ll forget the loss of his world.”

  “The Norse probably know we’re coming for them,” Athena added. “This was likely their plan all along—lead us straight into Asgard.”

  “One of these days, I’m going to kill that one-eyed bastard,” the Dagda muttered.

  Badb shook her head at him then pulled a chair away from the table so she could sit next to Poseidon. “None of us are marching into Asgard yet. We underestimated the Sumerians, and we lost Zeus because of it. And there’s no sneaking into that place. Heimdallr will see us coming long before we reach Bifröst.”

  “We’ve snuck into Asgard before,” Athena countered.

  “Because they weren’t expecting us,” Badb said. “They’re waiting for us now.”

  “So we need another way in,” Lugh said. “Heimdallr only guards Bifröst, which connects Asgard to Midgard. But the Aesir aren’t the only Norse gods.”

  Badb blinked at him, so he blinked back at her. “Lugh, we’re not going through Vanaheim! How would that not alert the Aesir we’re invading?”

  “Well, they’re not exactly on the best of terms,” Lugh proposed. “Their history is almost as contentious as the Titans and Olympians, and ever since Christianity took their worshippers from them, they’ve renewed their old rivalry.”

  “The Vanir still hate us more,” Badb insisted.

  “True, but if they have the chance to see Asgard demolished and the Aesir defeated, I think they’ll take it.”

  “I’m old enough to remember their civil war,” the Dagda interjected. “Most of the surviving Vanir moved to Asgard and became part of Odin’s pantheon. Who’s even left in Vanaheim?”

  Lugh shrugged and pulled one of his books closer. “Only a handful of gods who refused to acknowledge Odin’s sovereignty.”

  “Smart gods,” Poseidon interrupted.

  Lugh nodded then continued. “Njörd has never exactly been happy about having to live in Asgard. I think Nóatún is in Vanaheim.”

  “So… you want us to summon a Norse god and ask him if we can invade Asgard by going through his world,” Athena guessed. “Yeah, I can’t see this ending badly at all.”

  “If you have a better idea, I’m totally willing to listen,” Lugh retorted.

  “And preferably one that doesn’t involve freeing more Titans,” Ares added from the hallway.

  “Shut up, Brother,” Athena sighed.

  Badb patted Poseidon’s arm then rose from her chair at the table. “None of you have a better idea. Tomorrow, we’ll summon Njörd and promise him Vanaheim’s safety in exchange for passage through his realm.”

  “And if he turns on us?” Ares asked.

  Badb arched an eyebrow at her old friend and lifted a shoulder. “Then we kill him.”

  Badb awoke in the middle of the night to find Lugh missing from their bed. She rubbed her tired eyes and lit the lamp on the nightstand beside her, but their palace was quiet and empty. “Lugh?” she called.

  Only silence answered her.

  As she passed a window overlooking his workshop, she noticed the flickering of a lamp from within and sighed. If he’d gotten out of bed to finish that damn tapestry, he was staying home during the invasion of Asgard. If she had to get every god in the Otherworld to help her, she would. He’d been far too obsessed with completing it lately, and it scared the hell out of her.

  Badb pushed the door open and foun
d him hunched over his table, working on something, but the tapestry of his Spear lay across the loom on the opposite side of his workshop.

  “You never sleep well when I sneak out,” he teased, his attention still on whatever he was building.

  “Of course I don’t,” Badb agreed. “How can I sleep well without you?”

  “Actually,” he teased, “I’d think you can sleep a lot better without me around.”

  “Lugh,” she groaned.

  “Come here,” he laughed. “I want to show you this.”

  Badb stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, kissing the top of his blond head before glancing at his midnight project. “Are you making a wooden sword?”

  “Ash,” he clarified. “The hilt is silver and gold, but the blades are made of ash.”

  “Why?” Badb lifted a finished sword and wrinkled her nose at it, not because the craftsmanship wasn’t exquisite—how could anything Lugh made not be?—but because its blade was solid ash wood. She couldn’t imagine a more useless weapon.

  Lugh pointed to the sword and explained, “These aren’t for killing gods, Badb. You’ll have to fight them with your iron sword. But how were you planning on destroying Asgard?”

  Badb snickered and put the wooden sword down. “Not with a child’s toy.”

  “Toy?” Lugh scoffed.

  “Lugh… I mean, yeah, I expected you’d have to use some sort of enchantment, but this? My love, this is just embarrassing. I can’t let Thor see me with a wooden sword.”

  “You’ll just have to get over it,” Lugh told her. “I’m making three. One for each of the Mórrígna, and only you and your sisters can wield them. No one else can destroy Asgard.”

  Badb lifted his hand away from the sword he was still working on and sat on his lap, which made him stop squinting at her and smile instead. “I want you to stay home,” she tried.

  “Badb,” he sighed. “Don’t start.”

  “My sisters and I will bring your ash swords. We’ll combat the Norse ourselves, and we’ll crush them so thoroughly, they’ll never be strong enough to bother us again. I can’t lose you, Lugh. You know I can’t.”

  “I know,” he said affectionately, “that you’re so much stronger than you think. On and off the battlefield.”

  “Lugh,” she whispered.

  The sun god’s smile widened, and he brushed her hair behind an ear. “I’m going with you to Asgard. And I plan on us both returning.”

  “Why can’t you have a premonition about this?” Badb asked. “About whether or not Njörd will be willing to help us? And if our invasion will actually work?”

  “Because I can’t control them,” Lugh replied. “Fate tells me what it wants me to know.”

  “And what is Fate telling you now?” she asked.

  “That I was an idiot for getting out of bed with you.”

  Badb laughed and locked her fingers behind his neck. “Then you’d better not piss off Fate. Your wooden sword can wait.”

  “Um… I really hope we’re still talking about weapons.”

  Badb blinked at him then shook her head. “You get your terrible sense of humor from your Fomorian side.”

  “Hey,” he countered. “I’m funny.”

  “Not that funny, Sun God,” she teased.

  “Badb...” Lugh took a deep breath and picked up one of the ash swords he hadn’t finished. “Why now? We’ve all lost Europe. No one anywhere believes in us anymore. Why would the Norse start another war with us now?”

  Badb loosened one hand from behind his neck and ran her fingers along the smooth surface of what would become her sword. Even though she and her sisters shared the same crest, she somehow knew he’d meant this one for her. “I guess,” she said quietly, “we’ll just have to find out.”

  Chapter Seven

  Nemain and Macha admired the blades of ash Lugh had crafted for them, occasionally exchanging knowing glances at each other, but they’d left Badb out of whatever they’d been planning. She finally lost her patience and yanked a chair away from the Dagda’s table, the screeching of the legs against the floor finally getting her sisters’ attention.

  “What?” Nemain asked defensively.

  “What is going on with you both?” Badb demanded.

  “Oh, come on, Badb,” Macha said. “Like you haven’t spent centuries fantasizing about destroying Asgard. They chased us off the continent. It serves them right.”

  “They had to have been behind the scorpion men invading Olympus,” Athena added.

  “I’m not arguing we have to punish the Norse,” Badb said. “But you three have been planning something, and for some reason, you’re not telling me.”

  Nemain sighed and put her enchanted sword back on the table. “Look, we all know Lugh is almost never wrong. But this thing with Njörd… Badb, if we summon him, and he turns around and tells everyone we’re coming, it’ll kill us all. We’d be better off trying to get across Bifröst.”

  “But how?” Badb asked. “Heimdallr will see us coming long before we reach the gates of Asgard. The only reason we were able to get past him once was that we managed to trick Heimdallr into leaving his post for a few minutes.”

  “True,” Macha agreed. “Which is why someone has to go ahead of us and kill Heimdallr this time.”

  Badb blinked at her as she waited for the punch line. When neither her sisters nor her best friend provided one, she exclaimed, “That’s suicidal! And impossible!”

  “Sh!” they all hissed in return.

  “You can’t tell your boyfriend,” Athena whispered. “But I’m not willing to lose anyone else. I’m going.”

  Badb crossed her arms angrily and snapped, “If you try, I’ll stop you myself.”

  “Badb,” Athena replied, “tell me you honestly think Njörd is still so pissed off about the war with the Aesir that he won’t run off and tell Odin we’re coming.”

  “He might,” Badb said. “Which is why we’ll have to keep him here until we return.”

  Athena glanced at Nemain and Macha then shook her head. “How? We’ll all be invading Asgard.”

  “Not all of us,” Badb corrected. “There are gods who can’t fight, and we’ll ask them to keep Njörd prisoner here until we get back.”

  “Badb,” Nemain groaned. “You’re really going to count on gods like Aonghus being able to keep a hostage?”

  Badb shrugged, acknowledging her idea wasn’t really any better than Athena’s because a love god like Aonghus couldn’t even defend himself if Njörd fought back… and why wouldn’t he? Nemain picked up her sword again and admired the intricate carvings on the blade, the powerful enchantments that would allow them to destroy Asgard if they could get inside its walls.

  “Enchantments,” Badb whispered. She stood up straighter and grabbed Athena’s arm. “The glass castle.”

  Athena sucked in a quick breath and her eyes widened. “Can you get him in there?”

  “No,” Badb admitted then slowly smiled and added, “But I know who can.”

  She’d claimed she wouldn’t return to Tara because the memories were too painful, yet she once again stood on the stone steps leading into the castle of a long-gone king. Her breath formed milky white clouds in the cold, damp air, and she shivered as another gust of wind pushed past her.

  Lugh stuffed his hands into his pockets and shot her another exasperated look. “This is crazy,” he mumbled. “What if the Norse realize Njörd is missing and come looking for him?”

  “You expected us to trust a Norse god,” Badb shot back. “My plan is definitely less crazy.”

  “I’m freezing here,” Athena interrupted. “Literally freezing. I’m Greek… this island is going to kill me.”

  “Technically,” Lugh argued, and Badb sighed and rolled her eyes, “the island won’t kill you. The weather will.”

  “Smartass,” Athena muttered.

  “Can we just summon Njörd and haul him back to the glass castle?” Nemain begged.

  “All right,
” Lugh said. “Although I still don’t understand why this had to be a secret. The Dagda and Poseidon will figure out what we’ve done as soon as we meet to strategize about this invasion.”

  “And by then, it’ll be too late,” Badb explained. “They won’t be able to argue with us about forcing him into the glass castle, which would just waste time.”

  “He’s going to be so pissed off,” Lugh said.

  “Probably,” Badb agreed.

  “Still freezing,” Athena interjected.

  “Serves you right for thinking you could sneak up on Heimdallr,” Lugh retorted.

  “Shut up, Sun God,” Athena teased.

  “Since you are a sun god,” Macha said, “the least you can do is light a fire for us since we apparently can’t do anything quickly.”

  “We could,” Badb argued. “It would just require not talking.”

  “And that’s why we can’t,” Lugh pointed out.

  Badb thought about it then agreed. “Conceded.”

  “Going to die,” Athena reminded them again.

  “Starting to regret coming to Tara,” Macha added.

  Lugh arched an eyebrow at her and Njörd appeared inside the circle they’d formed on the steps of an abandoned castle in Ireland. The Norse god blinked at him then lifted his chin in the air. “I thought you Irish had more honor than to summon one god at a time to slaughter him.”

  “We do,” Lugh answered. “We have no intention of killing you.”

  “If this is about Olympus, I had nothing to do with it,” Njörd insisted.

  “I actually believe you,” Lugh said. “But we know your family was behind the invasion. Why would they provoke us like that?”

  “Why would I tell you?” Njörd asked.

  “Because if you do, we won’t destroy Nóatún on our way through Vanaheim,” Lugh promised.

  Njörd narrowed his eyes at the Irish sun god and swallowed. “And what makes you think Nóatún is in Vanaheim? That’s a deserted realm.”

  Lugh snorted and shook his head. “Do you really think we don’t know how myths work? There’s a grain of truth to them all. You couldn’t let go of your old home, and Skadi never wanted to return. It ruined your marriage when you chose Vanaheim over staying with her in Asgard, didn’t it?”