by Amy Sumida
“What?” I made a disgusted face. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Hey, I don't make this stuff up,” Trevor shook his head, but then his gaze landed on the giants in their battle gear, and his expression shifted. “Sutr is supposed to kill Freyr.”
“Freyr,” I whispered, something tingling to life inside my brain. “Isn't he in Niflheim?”
“Yeah,” Trevor frowned, “he is.”
“You think Freyr actually brought about Ragnarok?” Brahma gave a grim laugh. “To what purpose?”
“To kill our wife and reclaim Alfheim,” Trevor snarled.
“Oh,” Brahma blinked. “Yes, there is that.”
“That will not be happening,” Arach said in a dangerous tone.
“That's one thing I think we can all agree on,” Re said flippantly.
“Yes, but that's not what I meant,” Arach snorted. “I know for a fact that Vervain lives. If she hadn't, I would not be here.”
We all took a moment to let that sink in.
“Did Vervain tell you anything about the battle?” Pan asked anxiously. “Anything that could help us?”
“No!” I shouted to stop Arach from speaking, but he only shook his head.
“As Vervain has clearly realized,” Arach chuckled, “she could not reveal anything to me, for fear that I might confess it to all of you, and in the process, change the end result. Vervain lives, that is enough for me.”
“Da,” Kirill nodded, “is good enough. It gives me confidence.”
“She wouldn't have happened to have mentioned if I live?” Torrent asked nervously.
“You'll be fine,” Teharon gave Torr a reassuring shoulder pat, but it was Artemis taking Torrent's hand that made a real difference. Torrent sighed and smiled at her.
“We fight together, remember?” Artie told him. “Back to back. No one can take you from me.”
“Or you from me,” Torrent nodded calmly. “I remember.”
“By the way,” Re interrupted us, “does this ship of toenails happen to look like that?”
We all followed Re's gaze to the harbor, where two more ships were sailing in. Both looked pale. One was practically covered in frost, but the other looked like floating death. That would be the one which Re was pointing at. Its hull was mottled and ashy. My enhanced eyesight picked up a strange texture and an odd discoloration. As if it had been made of thousands of small parts, sealed together. Fingernails. Gross.
“That would be Naglfar,” Odin nodded.
“That's fucking disgusting,” Aidan voiced my feelings precisely, and the rest of the Intare nodded their agreement.
Shouting came from the giants still near the shore, and they began gesturing wildly to the two ships. The colder, less disgusting of the two, angled sharply, and veered toward Naglfar. I thought perhaps they would crash together, and possibly fight each other, but they didn't. Instead, greetings seemed to be exchanged.
“The Frost Giants,” Odin inhaled sharply. “They're against us.”
“I've never liked the cold anyway,” Arach sniffed. “I'll handle them.”
“They're a significant foe,” Odin hissed at my dragon. “And-” he stopped abruptly, his eyes caught on something. “Freyr,” he whispered.
“Where?” I looked towards the ships. “Is that him on Naglfar?”
“He's captaining it,” Odin growled. “That was supposed to be Hyrm's position.”
“What do you think of my theory now?” Trevor asked.
“Valid,” Odin sighed. “It seems that Freyr has lost his mind. He's somehow instigated Ragnarok and led the arisen dead here to destroy us.”
“Good, that's great, we got that settled,” I was trying to keep calm, “but could someone tell me where the hell Thor is?”
“Not in Hel at all,” Trevor smirked.
“Yes, we get it, your Aunt is the root of the word 'Hell'. Thank you for enlightening us, Wolf Prince,” Horus rolled his eyes.
Hekate smacked him.
“What I meant to say is, Thor's not in Hel because he's right there,” Trevor pointed to the water, where several more ships were entering the harbor, positioning themselves aggressively around Naglfar and the Frost Giant's ship. “Looks like he went to wrangle up the Sea Giants.”
“That's my boy,” Odin smiled.
“Come on, we need to prepare with Fenrir. Thor won't be able to keep them all offshore,” I led everyone down to where Fenrir waited at the crest of the hill, welcoming Sutr and his giants. “Hey, Dad, I brought Arach,” I motioned to my faerie husband.
“Wolf,” Arach nodded to Fenrir.
“Dragon,” Fenrir held his hand out to my husband. “Glad to have you with us.”
“Oh, it's my pleasure to be here,” Arach smiled as he looked toward the harbor, but then his gaze caught on something one of the giants was holding. “Is that sword born of fire?”
“Yes,” the massive man smiled, “as are we all,” he waved to his people. “We are the Fire Giants of Muspelheim. I am their king, Sutr.”
“How many different types of giants are there?” Pan huffed behind us.
“Well met, King Sutr,” Arach beamed at Sutr, and held his hand out to the fire giant. “I am King Arach of the Fire Kingdom in Faerie.”
“Another fire king,” Sutr chuckled. “Welcome to Ragnorak.”
“Thank you,” Arach nodded regally. “May blood flow and fire burn for you.”
“And you as well,” Sutr said solemnly.
“There are clay, mountain, sea, fire, and then just plain giants,” Trevor explained to all of us, ignoring the fire kings and their savagely regal exchange. “The jotnar are the giants of Jotunheim. I haven't seen them yet, but I think they'll fight on our side. It's clear that the eldjotnar, the fire giants, and the sjorisar, the sea giants, are with us,” Trevor nodded down to the battle beginning below. “Who knows if the leirjotnar or the bergrisar, clay and mountain, will show up at all. They don't like leaving land.”
“Is that Balder?” I pointed with horrified fascination at a man getting off Naglfar.
The Ship of Nails had made it to the dock, and the dead were disembarking rapidly. Vikings who had been merely souls for hundreds of years were striding proudly about in their new, living bodies. They looked vicious and ready to kill anything that stood before them. Behind the reborn warriors, the Frost Giants were turning the sea to ice, trapping Thor and his buddies mid-harbor. But Thor and the Sea Giants just jumped overboard, slipping and sliding their way to shore while somehow retaining an air of ferocity. Balder was already on land, walking among the humans.
“Balder,” Odin took a step forward, taking his first wound of the day, and it had nothing to do with the battle. It was the pain of seeing his dead son again. The son who had tried to kill me.
“Odin, don't let your guard down with him,” Teharon said gently, his turquoise eyes flashing with concern.
“Everyone spread out!” Fenrir shouted. “Keep them off Vigridr for as long as possible.” Then he howled, a chilling sound, made even creepier when the Froekn joined in.
“Shall we, A Thaisce?” Arach held his hand out to me.
But before I could turn away, another howl cut through the night, and I froze. I knew that sound. Its owner had once hunted me through the wastelands of Niflheim.
“Garm” Trevor growled. “Hel gave them Garm.”
Garm was literally the first hell hound, though it would be more accurate to call him, Hel's hound. The monstrous canine had been set upon my trail as I tried to flee Hel's territory. Trevor had gone to stay with her after we'd had a fight, and Hel decided to keep him. Azrael helped me free Trevor. Then the three of us had to book it through Niflheim with Garm on our heels. We'd hid from the hound, and I'd never got a good look at the beast, but I saw him clearly now.
“That's a big dog,” Arach said casually.
“You can say that again,” Azrael huffed. “That bitch chased Trevor, Vervain, and I once.”
“Unfortunately,
he's not a bitch,” Trevor's eyes were narrowed on the animal. “Not in any way.”
Also unfortunate was the fact that “big” did not aptly describe Garm. Massive maybe. Enormous might work as well. He was larger than Trevor was in wolf form. Possibly as sizable as Fenrir. Garm had thick, shaggy, white fur, which would have looked beautiful if not for his savage looking teeth, dripping with saliva, and his crazy, ice-blue eyes. Crazy eyes ruined beauty every time.
“Balder!” Odin shouted to his son.
Balder paused briefly on his way up the hill. He looked to his father and smiled. It was not a happy smile, nor a loving one. Balder had been given life again with the call of Heimdall's horn, and he intended to use that life to take his father's. I could see it clearly in his eyes, and I knew immediately that Odin would not be able to kill his son.
“Look after Odin for me,” I said to Trevor.
“Yeah, I'm on it,” Trevor nodded as he shifted into half-form.
Fur burst out over his body as his clothes tore and fluttered to the ground in strips. He grew until he loomed over me, muscles bulging beneath the fur, and claws extending.
“I got this, Minn Elska,” his deep, rumbling werewolf voice calmed me. “Don't worry about us.”
“Okay,” I nodded, and turned to Kirill, but he was already in lion form, as were all of my Intare. “Intare!” I shouted, and they roared. “This is not our battle, but we shall steal it from them. Own that field!”
Another roar.
“I will fly beside you, Carus,” Azrael nodded to me and Arach.
“I as well,” Morpheus stepped up to us, and spread his star-sprinkled, midnight wings.
The scent of vanilla and clean feathers enveloped me.
“And I will bring the sunshine,” Re smiled, spread out his arms, and suddenly, the night brightened. Everyone paused in shock, and peered around, as Re laughed. “I hate fighting in the dark.”
Then he began to burn our enemies.
“Looks like fun,” Arach whispered as he hugged me from behind. “The sky calls, A Thaisce. We will rain fire down upon them,” he purred into my ear, and rubbed his cheek to mine. “Blood shall flow in rivers and we shall burn that too.”
“You're so sexy when you talk like a psychopath,” I chuckled
I spotted Thor, crawling up the hillside with a host of wet women. I kid you not, they were all soaking wet, and every time they flung out a hand, waves would form in the air to knock gods onto their divine asses.
“Nice,” I said.
“The Billow Maidens,” Odin offered. His eyes were still focused on Balder, but he seemed to be aware of everything around him. His grip on Gungnir was going white, yet he lifted the spear in preparation of using it. “Herd them to us,” he said grimly. “Bring me our enemies, Thor.”
Hmph, maybe Odin would be okay after all.
I let Arach draw me aside, behind the partial cover of a thick tree trunk, and we both shed our clothing rapidly. He kissed me fast and hard, then we shifted, our dragons bursting free of our bodies, lengthening our limbs and pushing scales up through our skin. It should have hurt, but the shift always felt good to me. Like stretching a cramped limb. I lifted my golden head and roared.
The battle went quiet for a moment, a respectful silence full of dread. Which is precisely how the term “a dread of dragons” came about. Then Arach, Azrael, Morpheus, and I took to the sky. The call of blood consumed me, as it often did in war. A Wild Hunt was hard enough to resist, but a full out war was like a feast for my dragon. So many things to burn. So many things to eat. Wherever did I start?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
They kept coming.
You'd think that one ship couldn't hold so many people, but Naglfar seemed to be a magical, Mary Poppins ship with unlimited space. At least they were all human, except for Balder, and were fairly easy to kill. Though their deaths didn't sit well with me. These men were simply obeying their gods. But I suppose all war is like that. No, the humans weren't an issue. It was the Frost Giants who were the real problem, and all the other Norse gods who had come to fight on Freyr's behalf.
A heat-haze of magic shot through the air, making me dip and roll. I screeched, and Arach rained fire down upon my assailant. Azrael dove, slashing at people with his scythe, collecting souls as he went, and then destroying them. The dead would stay dead this time. You don't mess with my angel.
Below us, Sutr was burning people to bits with his fiery sword while the other fire giants flung out flames with their bare hands. But the Frost Giants countered this easily, turning fire into steam. Garm was doing some severe damage, but not as much as the wolves and lions, who bounded through the pandemonium, tearing flesh, breaking bones, and leaving carrion in their wake. Howls and roars lifted my heart. And not just mine. I could feel Lesya inside me, turning about in joy. Ferocity was the lifeblood of a lioness, and my baby was soaking it up. If she could have roared, she would have.
I blasted another row of frost giants with fire, and then simply raked my claws over them when the damn snowmen wouldn't burn. It was getting annoying, but I've fought in several god battles, and most were like this; a string of magical attacks nullified by each other until a lucky strike got through. I didn't feel truly disheartened until a wave of massive, muddy men came running across the field behind us. The Mountain and Clay Giants had arrived. And they were against us.
“Let's put these clay men in a kiln, shall we?” Arach rumbled. “Maybe we can make some pretty statues.”
I gave him my toothy, dragon smile, and started to breathe fire over the newcomers. Then a horn sounded, and my attention turned once more to the sea. More ships came sailing into the harbor, stopping short of the dock due to the ice still lining the shore. It didn't matter, the passengers jumped out onto the ice, just as the Sea Giants had, and scurried across to land.
At their head was a beautiful, blonde man. He stripped as he came, tossing clothing aside to be trampled under the feet of the jotnar with him. The last group of giants had arrived, and it appeared that Loki had brought them.
They were an unusual mix. I had expected the jotnar to have human appearances, just with larger bodies. That's how Mimir looked, and Rind as well. Some of the jotnar did seem to be humongous humans. But others were very different. Claws, fangs, and deformities were prevalent on several giants, and there were even some with multiple heads. Conversely, there were those who were very beautiful in the more traditional sense. I say “traditional” because I've learned, long ago, to see beauty differently. And let me tell you something, those multiple-headed, massive men were some of the most beautiful things I'd seen all day.
At Loki's side was a gorgeous giantess. Her dark hair hung in braids behind her, gathered together with thick bands of gold, and her body was covered with molded, leather armor. She looked like she belonged on an Opera stage. But then she pulled her broadsword and started killing everything she could get close to. Without mercy. Loki smiled brightly at her viciousness, shucked off his underwear, and shifted into an enormous wolf, ten times the size of Fenrir. I watched in wonder as Loki tore through the Frost Giants like they were fluffy snowbanks and he, a giant puppy.
Fenrir began to laugh, a great, rumbling sound, and then he shifted from his werewolf form into full wolf. The Great Wolf grew as he ran, till he matched his father in size, and the two of them ripped through the mass of warriors like children surrounded by presents on Christmas morning.
Then a clear, sharp, horn blast carried across the water, and I saw yet another ship racing towards the shore. This one was sleek and pale, with cream colored sails adorned with flashing gold designs. On its deck, the Light Elves stood somberly, weapons already in hand. My heart lifted to see them. But just as I rejoiced, another ship swung alongside theirs, and grappling hooks were flung across the way.
Men and women, similar in appearance to the Light Elves, lined the railings the other ship. Except these gods were dark where the Light Elves were fair. Their skin was a pure, ebony
black, though their hair was pale, a bright contrast which made them easy to spot. They immediately engaged the Light Elves in a vicious shipboard battle. I was about to fly over and help them, when I was distracted by the cries of a shiny moron who happened to be my son-in-law.
“Father!” I heard Balder bellow.
I veered around, and saw Odin head towards his son. I began to panic, but then I spotted Trevor, right beside Odin. He followed the Allfather like a bodyguard, striking down any who approached them, as Odin single-mindedly headed for Balder. Still, this was Odin, and facing his son again could be devastating. I needed to be there for him. So I swooped down, preparing to land behind my husbands. Through the press of battling bodies, I saw a black lion streaking towards us. Kirill.
Arach and Azrael flanked me as I descended. We were just missing... oh yes, there he was, Re. The Sun God, Re strode through the battle like it was his personal pleasure garden, simply holding up his hand when any dared to approach him. He left piles of ash in his wake.
How had I never noticed what a supreme bad ass he was?
“No!” Odin shouted, and I turned back to him.
I'd been distracted by my men. I hadn't seen Sutr slip in front of Odin and engage Balder. I jerked up at the last second, and circled the fight, but Azrael landed in order to help Re and Trevor restrain Odin. The poor guy kept getting held back, but I had to admit, I was grateful for it.
“Sutr, he's my son!” Odin shouted.
“Who is bent on killing you, Allfather!” Sutr shouted back as he slashed at Balder. “Go on then. Balder. Tell your father why you're here.”
“I'm here to kill him,” Balder admitted immediately and with great relish. “Him and that whore of his. I don't care what Freyr said, the Godhunter is mine.”
“Bring it, freak,” I called down to him.
“I'll get to you next, bitch,” Balder struck out at Sutr.
And Odin wept.
Damn, I felt bad about the freak comment when I saw my husband crying. I didn't have time to comfort him though, as much as my heart ached for his, but Azrael held Odin for me. The Angel of Death was also the Angel of Compassion, and Az could hug like nobody's business. Still, it broke my heart to watch the great Odin of the Norsemen, weeping in the arms of the Angel of Death. If I wasn't absolutely certain it would put a damper on our marriage, I would have burned Balder right then.
