Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods

by Jake La Jeunesse

  Daniel stood calmly. “A dishonest man, you can always trust to be dishonest.”

  Zeke’s rage vanished instantly. The phrase was familiar. An old line from an old fairy-tale. He didn’t understand, but he no longer wanted to fight. Could it have been the dream he had? Both Daniel and Micah had an odd obsession with ancient stories. Was Joel right? Did he need a new friend.

  No.

  But he was still curious. “I’ve heard that before.” Zeke stepped back from the bars and stood up straight.

  “I’m not surprised. It’s an old proverb.”

  Joel offered a suggestion. “We might as well hear him out. It’s not like we have anything else to do.” Zeke was beginning to agree.

  Daniel spoke. “I know you’re upset about being locked up, but I had no choice. My orders were to bring you to the upper city. If I didn’t, the Karellan would have sent someone else to do it.”

  “What difference would that make?”

  “Besides me being executed for treason?” Daniel suggested. The look on Zeke’s face made him wish he hadn’t mentioned his execution. “Look, anyone else would have actually been loyal to the Karellan. I needed to keep you safe for a while. If I followed my orders, I figured they’d stop looking for you.”

  Joel was starting to get peeved. “So you lock us up for two weeks?”

  “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have taken so long, but Jae-Hoon’s condition made things difficult. I had to make some arrangements. Get funds. Find a transport.”

  “Transport? Are you going somewhere?”

  “We are. Yes. We’re going to Rome.”

  The dream.

  Zeke thought back to the war. It was the last time he had been to Rome. He thought back to the horrible things he saw after the plate fell. He thought of his own problems that started there. He knew he couldn’t trust Daniel, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his dream.

  He had to go to Rome.

  There was something he was being shown. Something he had to see.

  “Rome? Are you crazy?” Joel was now speaking for himself. “No one goes to Rome. It’s been a demilitarized zone since the war!”

  “That doesn’t mean no one goes there,” explained Daniel. “The Karellan makes regular trips to the ruins of the city.”

  “And you want us to check out what he does there?” asked Zeke.

  “No. You have to meet Sandalphon.”

  “Who?”

  Daniel looked around nervously. “I can’t tell you more here, but it’s something you have to do. It’s the only way to stop the Karellan.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust you?” asked Zeke, although he knew by Daniel’s nervousness and his nearly sub-audible whispers that the Raven was not in the jail under orders. He was in danger just by being there.

  “You have no choice. Now I’m going to let you out. Interpret that however you want. If you decide to trust me, come with me. If not, you’re still free to go.” He reached over to a key pad and hit some numbers. There was a soft hiss, then the cell door slid open.

  Zeke immediately rushed out, grabbed him, and pinned him against the bars on the other side of the hall. Jae-Hoon jumped when they slammed into his cage. Nothing more than a reaction. Instinct.

  “If there’s any chance of putting a stop to that madman and avenging Charlie and Emily, I’ll go with you. But if I even get a feeling that you might betray us again I will kill you without a thought.” He released his grip.

  Daniel didn’t move. “I’m sure we won’t have that problem,” he said timidly.

  “Of course we won’t,” said Zeke with an intimidating cheerfulness.

  “We have to go soon. It was no easy task clearing out this building right under the Karellan’s nose, but you have a one hour window, and we’ve already used up ten minutes. Your weapons are in the evidence room down the hall.”

  “I’m on it!” said Joel. He started running.

  “You’ll need the key,” shouted Daniel, tossing him a card. He turned back to brief Zeke. “I’ve made arrangements with a pilot who’s willing to fly . . . under the radar. He’ll take us to Rome, but we have to get to the dock before dawn.”

  “Correction . . .”

  “Of course.” Daniel should have expected it.

  “You have to get to the ship before dawn. You can pick us up outside the West Gate at noon.”

  “You’re going to the lower city?” Zeke was known to change plans before, but this was risky. The only ways back to the lower city were either to pass through the ASH or to survive a 100 meter fall into a forest of razor wire. And for a citizen wanted by the Karellan, the latter was the safer option.

  “We’re bringing Ariel. I’m not leaving her alone anymore.”

  “How do you expect to get there?”

  “When Joel gets back with my sword, I’m sure I’ll think of a way.”

  Daniel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was told Zeke was intelligent and strong. One of a handful of soldiers who had survived the Roman Conflict. And now he was suggesting a one-man assault on the center of government for the entire world?

  It was hard to believe anyone was that strong.

  Or stupid.

  “Don’t do anything rash. If you create a scene, every soldier and police officer in upper and lower Nifelheim will be looking for you.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small ID card. “Here. It’s a spare for when I’m traveling undercover. A fake, but authorized by the Karellan, so it should give you clearance right down into the Supervisor’s office.”

  “Good.”

  “But I only have one. What about Joel?”

  “I’ll figure something out. Are you taking Jae-Hoon?”

  Daniel felt guilty. “We can’t. It’s too risky. We can’t afford to look after him.” Zeke was silent. He stared disapproving. “Look, I know you don’t want to leave anyone behind, but he’ll be fine. Dumah will send one of his men up for him in the next few days.”

  Silence.

  “I know it’s not much. But it’s our only choice. Getting to Rome is more important.”

  “Yo!” called Joel, running down the hallway. He tossed the sword at Zeke, who caught it with one hand. “We’re set. Let’s get out of here.”

  Zeke turned to Daniel. “West Gate at noon. If you’re late, I won’t be there.”

  They ran to the exit, leaving the Raven alone in the jail.

  “Are you sure this will work?” Joel asked, staring at the tower in front of them.

  The Administrative Sector Headquarters was the tallest building for miles. It rose a full seventy stories into the air. The huge monolith cast its shadow over most of the city from its vantage point of the heavens.

  And it also stretched down below the plate, into the depths of Hell.

  Where they were headed.

  “Just stick to our story,” he told Joel. “The ID card should be convincing enough.”

  “That’s what I mean. Do you actually trust him?”

  It was hard for Zeke to answer that. Daniel had proven to be a strong ally many times, but it only took one act to become a traitor. “Why would he break us out of jail just to throw us back?”

  It did make sense. If he wanted them in jail, sending them through the ASH to get caught seemed the roundabout method. It would have been easier just to leave them where they were.

  But it hadn’t been Daniel’s idea to go to lower Nifelheim.

  They watched the tower for a long time, unmoving.

  “Didn’t any of that seem odd to you?” asked Joel.

  “You mean how we recovered our weapons and walked right out of an empty jail entirely on the word of the same person who threw us in there?”

  “Good. Then it’s not just me.”

  “I know it’s suspicious. I know he’s a spy. I know we can’t trust him. But I have to go to Rome. Just in case.” He advanced toward the front doors.

  Joel followed quickly. “Wait, you’re actually going with him?”

 
Zeke didn’t break stride. “I know it sounds crazy. Maybe I’m just upset about Charlie and Emily. But I can’t sit by and let the Karellan get away with this.”

  “But Rome? I think you’re getting into trouble.”

  “And I know I am. But Micah would have done something.” He reached for the door, but didn’t open it. “Remember, stick to the story,” he cautioned.

  They went in. The building was oddly pleasant. It resembled the Supervisor’s office far below them, but it was brighter, less dank. The windows let in real sunlight. The walls were clean and white. The floors, polished marble.

  A girl sat at a massive reception desk, her nose buried in forms and folders.

  Zeke approached. “Excuse me. We’re here for passage to the lower city.”

  She didn’t look up. “What’s your purpose?”

  “Transfer to the Nifelheim defense militia.”

  The girl did nothing. She didn’t speak. She didn’t look up. She didn’t move. Zeke cleared his throat, hoping to catch her attention.

  Nothing.

  After a long moment, she reached into a drawer and pulled out two blank forms. When she finally looked up, he was startled by the sour expression on her face.

  She noticed his sword. “Not exactly standard issue, is it?”

  “We’re Special Forces.”

  The girl was less than interested. “Just fill these out. Include your military ID numbers and sign at the bottom.” She shoved the two forms across the desk and turned back to her files. When she had turned away, Joel shot a panicked look at Zeke.

  They weren’t expecting paperwork. Everything else in the upper city seemed so high-tech. Slide a card through a machine. Enter a number on a keypad. Daniel didn’t say anything about this.

  They only had one ID number. Even a moment’s hesitation and the girl might get suspicious.

  Zeke had a thought. He passed the card silently to Joel. It’s okay, he mouthed. Since he had to lie about everything else on the form, the ID number wouldn’t weigh on his conscience, and he had noticed something about the one Daniel gave them.

  They quickly filled out the forms.

  “Excuse me,” Zeke said, catching the girl’s attention.

  She turned back to them and snatched the forms. Turning to the computer, she began hitting keys. Her expression changed briefly to surprise. “This is odd.”

  “What is it?” There was more panic in the pirate’s voice than he intended. Zeke was worried he might give them away.

  “Well, it’s your ID.”

  “Is something wrong with it?” asked Joel.

  “Not your ID,” she said. Turning to Zeke she explained, “It’s yours. You must have been in the army for a while. Your ID is older.”

  “You don’t get to be Special Forces overnight.” He leaned forward and glared, trying to intimidate. “Is something wrong with that?”

  “No. Nothing wrong. Just unusual.” She nodded to a door and hit a button. The lock released and the door slid open with a hiss. “The elevator’s down that hallway. Your ID cards should grant access to it.”

  They walked quickly to the hallway. It was still early, and the building was mostly empty. They passed by a few offices, but no one inside paid much attention to them. “I told you it would be fine,” said Zeke.

  “What was all that about the ID number?”

  “I used my old ID from the war. They’re still using the same system.”

  “You used your actual ID?”

  They found the elevator and swiped the card across the panel. The doors slid open. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like anyone in the government will remember me from the war.”

  Stepping inside, the doors closed behind them, cutting them off from the bright marble hallways of the upper city’s ASH. The elevator slowly began to move.

  “If you ask me, it’s still pretty risky,” the pirate continued.

  “Do you think anyone actually checks those forms?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “It’s mostly bureaucratic nonsense. They want to know who used the lift, so they have you sign a piece of paper saying you used it. But they don’t want to waste paper, so they fill up the sheet with questions like ‘what’s your birthday’ or ‘where is your house. ’ They don’t really need to know that stuff. I just needed to write something down to get past them. Anything. And since Daniel only provided us with one ID card . . .”

  “You mean he . . .”

  “It’s okay,” said Zeke, cutting him off. “All that matters is that we passed through security.”

  “I don’t believe this. An hour ago you were ready to kill this kid, and now you’re defending him?”

  Zeke didn’t understand it either.

  The elevator doors opened into the dark offices of the lower city. The yellow-brown glow of dead earth under fluorescent lights flooded through the windows. They were in the Supervisor’s reception room.

  The secretary pressed a button on an intercom. “Sir, Mr. Branderlief is here.” They ignored her.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’d still like to wring his neck for being part of the government and selling us out like that. But he’s so high up in the ranks that I might be able to learn something from him.”

  Joel smiled. “Spying on the spy? Clever. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

  A door slid open and Dumah came striding out. “Mr. Branderlief! Back from the upper city! It’s been so long, I was afraid . . .”

  His greeting was cut short by a fist in his face. He fell to the ground. When he regained his senses, he opened his eyes to find a sword to his throat.

  “You knew what we’d find! All those people! You murdered them! You knew it!” Zeke advanced. Dumah crept backwards, keeping the point of the blade safely on the outside of his skin.

  “It was entirely against my will, I assure you,” he pleaded.

  “All those citizens, hoping for a better life. You let them get turned into monsters!”

  “I had no choice. I wanted to help. I wanted to end those horrors, but . . .”

  “But you said nothing.” Zeke stopped advancing. “You stayed silent for years, letting wave after wave of people be tortured and killed. You’re every bit as bad as the Karellan.” He gripped his sword with both hands, then pulled back to strike.

  Joel grabbed his arms, stopping him. “No.”

  “You have every right to want me dead.” Dumah stayed on the floor. “But please, now that I have the proof I need, I can stop it.”

  “He never betrayed us,” added the pirate.

  Zeke hesitated. “Fine.” He sheathed his sword. “Your Slayer is still in jail. Go get him.” With that, he left.

  Joel helped Dumah to his feet. “I’m very sorry he always tries to kill you. He’s really not a bad person.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” the governor said timidly.

  Joel caught up with him just outside the ASH. “Hey! Zeke, wait up!”

  Zeke spun around furiously. “What do you want now?” he spat.

  The pirate took a step back, startled by this change in demeanor. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful. You’re going to Rome, right?”

  “And you’re not.”

  He wasn’t sure whether Zeke was looking for confirmation or giving an order.

  “We all have our own ways of fighting. I don’t believe this chain of events is as simple as a madman’s perverted attempts at playing god. I need to rejoin my fleet to learn more.”

  Zeke was annoyed. He had spent two weeks with this man and his constant attempts at humor and his habit of stating the obvious as wisdom. He had had enough.

  “Then go! You want to fight? Do it. Just don’t interfere with my fight anymore. There are some people who simply do more harm than good, and that man is not likely to change.” He pointed toward the ASH.

  There was nothing Joel could say to appease him. “Very well. Go on with your personal quest. But you can’t play the lone wolf forever. You may not be a resistance figh
ter, but one day you’ll need help. My fleet will always be ready.”

  There was a long silence.

  The pirate had said what he needed to. He turned and started off.

  Zeke felt like it was wrong to part ways like this. “Hey, Joel?”

  He stopped. “Yeah?”

  “Good luck. Maybe we’ll fight together some day.”

  He smiled. “I can think of no one better to watch my back.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Questing

  The boy’s father was ill.

  Jae-Hoon stood and watched. It was the same last night. It would be the same tomorrow. Mother was gone. His brothers killed in the war. He was alone. Just him and his father.

  Soon to be just him.

  He turned for help. Two draugr sat at his kitchen table, eating cheese.

  “Call a doctor! He needs a doctor!”

  One of the draugr turned around in his chair. “Do it yourself. We’re busy,” it said. They lifted glasses of wine and drank, spilling it all over the table.

  He froze. They weren’t going to help! Father might die!

  The door burst open and a man in white robes walked in. “Are you a doctor?” asked the small boy.

  “Yes,” said the man. He held up a bag with a red cross to prove his point.

  Jae-Hoon turned back to the draugr, who were now Charlie and Zeke. “Take that!” he shouted at the half-monsters. “I have a doctor anyway!”

  “You father is still going to die,” said the Zeke-draugr, lifting up a single, sword-shaped claw. He pointed at the dying man.

  The doctor opened his bag and pulled out a bottle of oil. Dripping the oil on his thumb, he drew a cross on the sick man’s forehead. “In nominis patrii, et filii, et spiritus sanctus,” he said.

  “I thought you were a doctor,” Jae-Hoon pleaded. “Save him!”

  The doctor’s white clothes were now dark black. He wore the collar of a Catholic priest. “This will save him.” He took out a small piece of bread. “Hoc est corpus meum.”

  Somewhere in the back of his unconscious mind, he recognized this ritual. The knowledge that he was a priest cut into the vision. But this didn’t make sense. “You’re doing it wrong. You’re doing communion now.”