‘It’s…rather big,’ I said, when we materialised on the stony shore.
‘Thanks for noticing,’ Ullr replied. I rolled my eyes. ‘But it’s not as wide as it seems.’ He moved my chin into the right position, forcing me to squint in the brilliant glare reflecting from the sea’s surface. ‘That’s the Utgard Fortress over there. It’s made of ice and extends into the sky. It makes the sea look bigger.’
‘Great, so all we have to do is project across, right?’
‘Think again, warlock,’ Ullr said. ‘Remember the magical barrier I told you about in Yew Dale Inn?’ I nodded. ‘It extends halfway across. And when I said the white stuff was made of ice…’
I pulled my cloak tighter. ‘What now?’
He dislodged a small ice pick from his belt, and chipped off some ice and held it up to the light.
‘That looks like an eye,’ I said, shivering.
‘Yup, dead giants, washed out of Asgard by the Iving. Odin likes his subtle reminders to keep the Jotuns at bay.’
‘Dead giants, frozen over. How long have they been here?’
Ullr shrugged. ‘Depends on your conception of time. They might be dead but they’re spelled to sense and react to magic – Nikolaj and I discovered that the hard way. We approach on foot.’ He snapped a pair of Ullr-sized skis out of the curve of his shield, with matching poles. Once again, I ached to be allowed to rummage around the back of that thing. I summoned my own pair – Father’s, the one he had kept in the cupboard under the stairs. ‘But we can ski across this bit,’ Ullr said. ‘Once we get to the boundary, there’s only one way across.’
‘Which is?’ I called after him as he set out onto the ice.
He waited until I caught up. ‘We’ll cross that sea when we come to it.’
I almost ploughed right into the invisible boundary that carved up the sea. Ullr grabbed my shoulder – I’d been lost in thought, worrying about Ava and praying to catch a glimpse of her watching me in the ice. The sooner I retrieve Freyr’s sword, the sooner I can get back to her.
‘Careful,’ Ullr hissed. ‘The first barrier is one of illusion. A few more feet and you’ll be sinking. No one who goes in comes out again. Get rid of the skis.’ He unstrapped his and put them away as I sent Father’s back to Hellingstead Hall. The small amount of magic it required luckily didn’t wake the giants, but the ice nearby cracked a little.
Then Ullr tossed his shield into the air. It landed with a splosh – not that we could see it. ‘Come,’ he said, yanking me by the wrist. ‘And jump.’
We travelled some distance – powered by Ullr’s giant leap – and the ice turned to wind-churned water beneath us. We were slammed into the upturned shield, which had no problem carrying our weight, although it was a tight fit. A wave smashed into the side of us and we spun around like a teacup on a fairground ride. ‘You’re right,’ I said as I inhaled some salt-water, ‘I don’t like this plan.’
‘Then shut up and start paddling.’
‘You have oars in this thing too?’
‘Of course. No magic until we get onto land.’
I didn’t say another word. I gritted my teeth, and trying not to vomit over the side of Ullr’s ‘boat’, I paddled for all I was worth.
Ullr’s shield proved steadfast until we had almost reached the shoreline; Utgard’s boundary acted as a spoon stirring the salty, frothing potion that resisted our rowing, until it tipped us over.
I flailed, panicking, until I realised that I could touch the bottom with my foot. ‘You’re stronger than you look,’ Ullr shouted, shaking the water out of his hair. ‘That didn’t take long.’
He enjoys this, I thought, grabbing the lip of the shield after Ullr righted it. We waded onto the steep, rocky bank.
‘Can I use some magic now? Don’t fancy dying of hypothermia.’ On this side of the frozen sea, the snow came pelting down.
Ullr nodded. ‘We should be safe now.’
‘And where are we exactly?’
‘The closest translation to your Midgardian language would be the Valley of Doom.’
‘Hang on, did you just say we’re safe now we’re in the Valley of Doom?’
‘Comparatively.’
‘We should spend less time together.’
‘Sure, after you dry my clothes.’
I held up my palms and directed the Gatekeeper’s pulse of heat to the air bubble surrounding Ullr, evaporating the moisture from his sodden brown jacket and trousers. He took off his boots, poured out the sea water, and I dried those off too, then repeated the same process on myself.
‘Some gift for magic you have, Clemensen. It’s a wonder your family kept it secret for so long.’
As I dried myself I said, ‘I’m hoping the news of the Gatekeeper is yet to reach Utgard-Loki.’
‘You wish to take on an alias and steal Istapp?’
’No, that won’t work,’ I said.
‘I agree.’
‘I’m hoping to deliver the news in person,’ I said, ‘or failing that, at the point of Ormdreper. I’m done being diplomatic and nice. There’s not enough time.’ Ragnarök loomed over me more than any giant, and with each breath, my need to return to Alfheim and hold Ava in my arms was tumbling out of control.
‘Or at the blunt end of Thor’s hammer?’ Ullr asked. ‘I recognise that belt. Haven’t seen the fabled weapon though. Do you have an invisible shield or something?’
I smiled, and projected myself onto the top of a rock, cupping my hands around my mouth. ‘Or something!’ I shouted.
Ullr lobbed his shield and I was so surprised that I failed to move in time. It knocked me down the other side of the rock face, leaving me a groaning mess on the ground. I could hear Ullr’s laughter before I spotted him cresting the bank. ‘The Valley of Doom, rule number one – never leave a man behind or you’ll end up on yours.’
I shoved his shield off my chest and sat up just as he leapt from the rock, landing in a crouch, the ground cracking beneath him. He hoisted his shield/storage cupboard/boat and plunged into the icy valley below us, a whistle on his lips that rivalled any one of Uncle Nikolaj’s.
‘I’m starting to see why you two were friends,’ I muttered.
33
City of Ash: Part One
‘I don’t understand,’ Hellos said. ‘Where has everyone gone?’
Menelaus halted on the hill that overlooked the city. Smoke curled up from the centre, the bones of ancient buildings turned to fiery ash, feeding the bonfire.
Hellos pointed to the city’s western quarter, which had been reduced to rubble. ‘I lived over there for centuries. By my reckoning, we should’ve arrived at the start of carnival. The streets are usually full of colour….’
Menelaus and Rosalia exchanged a look. ‘I’m guessing the party is over,’ he said.
‘Or it’s just begun,’ Rosalia added. She rubbed the wide brim of her hat, which she had stolen without qualm – along with a pair of boots and a periscope – from a mysterious dead body they’d discovered washed up by the river during their journey to the burning city. Now that body made sense. Whatever had happened in the city hadn’t been pleasant. She took out the periscope from her satchel and peered into the ruins.
‘What is it?’ Menelaus said as her face creased with worry.
‘The city isn’t empty,’ she said, ‘but I suspect they aren’t supposed to be here.’
Hellos strolled over and snatched the periscope from her. ‘Oh dear gods,’ he said. ‘I know those two.’ He passed the scope to Menelaus.
‘Who are they?’
‘Loki’s sons – Narvi and Vali. Generals of his Dökkálfar army.’
‘They’re not alone,’ Menelaus said, trying not to succumb to the gurgle of dread in his stomach. ‘Looks like they’ve turned the city into a barracks. Narvi and Vali are twins? What kind?’
‘The ugly, soul-eating kind,’ Hellos snarled. ‘Nidhug has nothing on those two.’
That gurgle built into a full-scale rumble. ‘I did
n’t meet them in Hellingstead,’ Menelaus said.
Rosalia motioned for her periscope. He handed it back. ‘No, you wouldn’t have,’ she said. ‘Loki takes the souls of vampires to a different place. I’d heard whispers enough to know he considers them his elite force. The Hordes he brought to Hellingstead were mere expendables.’
‘Including me,’ Menelaus huffed. He steadied his shaking hands – fear and hunger. ‘I’m going in – alone.’
‘Are you mad?’ Hellos hissed.
‘I’m a dhampir, I can blend in.’
Rosalia clutched his arm. ‘I’m going with you.’
‘No.’
‘I didn’t escape one master to be subdued by another,’ she snapped. ‘Besides, they know of me. You can pretend you’re escorting me on an errand for Loki.’
‘And if they don’t buy your cover story?’ Menelaus asked.
Hellos scratched his beard. ‘They are as dumb as doornails,’ he said. ‘Only one brain between them, they say.’ He paused. ‘Why are you so keen to get down there anyway?’
Hellos leaned back – when had Menelaus leant so close to him? God, that dwarf was starting to look…tasty. He cleared his throat and stepped away. ‘Where there are vampires,’ he said, ‘there’s blood. Come on, Sis.’
They said goodbye to Hellos and descended the wide path that led to the city gates. ‘You and Ava would get along,’ he said when they were out of earshot of Hellos.
‘Why?’
‘She’s just a stubborn as you.’
34
Rainbow Sky
So far, she had refused to beg, but Akhenaten wouldn’t torture her; the body was precious, important. He needed Ava’s sanity to remain intact – for now – if she was to do his bidding. Her Vital Essence – although stained with Frigg’s fingerprint – matched Nefertiti’s in raw passion, a fire that came from Father Aten himself. It would suit his Queen.
He found Ava asleep on the bed, and laid out the flatbreads and meats he’d had prepared for her to accompany the bowl of fruit, which so far Ava hadn’t touched.
‘Nefertiti once conducted a hunger strike,’ he said, startling Ava awake, ‘because I refused the presence of her courtesans. She did it to spite me, claiming she was unwell. But I knew her sulks.’
Ava sat up against the pillow, her hair a mess. ‘What did you do?’
‘I suppose you think I beat her?’ The girl blushed. ‘I’m not that brand of monster. Aten’s family is sacred. No.’ He shook his head. ‘We came to a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you and I shall. Please, eat.’
She slipped out of the covers fully dressed, as if she were afraid he might wish to touch her. He smiled, satisfied, as she picked up the plate of flatbread and inhaled its warm, moist scent.
Then she looked him in the eye and tossed it at the wall. He listened to the sound of smashing plates, fruits and meats being crushed underfoot. Ava spat at his feet. ‘I’ll do no deal with the devil. I’d rather starve to death than sacrifice my soul to your schemes.’
‘Stupid girl. Aten will eviscerate your soul. There will be nothing left for your precious Syphon to grieve! No life eternal.’
‘I have nothing to lose,’ she said, ‘considering if I help you, you’ll destroy the Nine Realms anyway. And as for your “offer”, I refuse to be a parasite in my own body while your vile queen feeds upon it.’
He chuckled. ‘Perhaps you are too strong-willed to fight for yourself,’ he said, ‘but we’ll see if you feel the same way about your loved ones.’
‘What do you mean?’
Akhen smiled. ‘As I expected. But understand this: if you insult my Great Royal Wife again, I’ll toss you from this tower just as the Syphon flung my Consul to his death.’ He paused, allowing his threat to sink in. ‘There are plenty of others who can take your place.’
35
City of Ash: Part Two
Menelaus picked through the ruins, but keeping an eye on his foot placement while watching out for Loki’s vampire recruits gave him a headache. That headache worsened with each step. I need blood now. I need blood now. If he had fangs, they would’ve snapped out when they’d left Hellos on the hill overlooking the city.
Rosalia waved at him from across the street and pointed farther down the cobbled road – they’d been searching for the rear entrance of the only structure that didn’t look like it had been bulldozed. They crept towards the wooden door. ‘I thought dwarves were small, so why is the door so big?’ he whispered.
‘It’s a public building,’ Rosalia said, testing if it was open – it swung inward. ‘Dwarves aren’t the only ones who live in Svartaflheim.’
Menelaus held her back. ‘Wait,’ he said, listening. He breathed the glorious scent of blood wafting out to meet them. ‘You were right – it’s a drinking den. Stay close.’
They stepped into the darkness. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. He didn’t have a plan exactly—
A club smashed into his face. Rosalia yelped. The cloaked figure tried to grab her but Menelaus seized his arms and twisted hard, following through with a knee to the spine. ‘Touch Loki’s ward again, cretin, and you’ll burn for eternity in a lake of fire.’
Rosalia took the club and swung it over her shoulder. ‘Which kneecap is your favourite?’ she said.
‘Err…Mistress?’
Rosalia took out his right knee. ‘That was for my guardian here. He needs blood, got any of that?’
Guardian, Menelaus thought. He’d missed that title more than he had expected.
After the cloaked vampire stopped howling – his hood had fallen back, revealing his pale skin and black fangs – he stood and motioned them forward. ‘That way,’ he said, slumping against the wall. ‘You pass the test.’
Menelaus rubbed his nose, pleased to find that it had healed. ‘Remind me not to cross you, Mistress,’ he said, putting away his doubt and striding into the dingy room. He shouldered his way through the crowd of vampires as he escorted Rosalia to the bar.
‘Ladies first,’ he said, yanking a barstool away from a competitor. He took Rosalia’s hand and she hoisted herself onto it. He turned to the barkeeper, ready to order.
Rosalia beat him to it. ‘A slug of your finest,’ she said, drawing attention from all the other – male – vampires at the bar. ‘And fresh blood for my guardian. Not the putrid rations these idiots are used to.’
Menelaus tensed as the room fell silent. They hadn’t had time to come up with an escape plan. He rolled his shoulders back and leaned an elbow on the bar, adopting a conspiratory air. ‘I wouldn’t keep Loki’s ward waiting. She’s an impatient woman.’
‘What evidence do you have of that?’
‘Her wardship, or her impatience?’
The bartender glowered.
Rosalia undid her cloak, handed it to Menelaus, and unbuttoned the top of her dress, rolling back the fabric and exposing her collarbone.
What the Hel is that?
‘Loki’s mark,’ the bartender gasped. ‘Forgive me, Mistress.’ He zipped into the shadows and returned with their drinks. ‘On the house,’ he said, watching Menelaus down the rich blood, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The liquid life sent a blast of freshness through his mind and body, sharpening his senses tenfold. ‘What brings you here? Has Loki found his way out of Helheim yet?’
‘No,’ Menelaus said. ‘That’s why we’ve come.’ He paused, staring at the other vampires – who were obviously trying to eavesdrop – until they returned to their drinks and conversation. ‘We have business in Muspelheim.’
‘Oh, then you’ll need to talk to Narvi and Vali – they have men stationed by the gateway since the cracks appeared. No one wants Surt here yet. But I guess Loki told you about that or he wouldn’t have sent you.’
Rosalia sipped the sparkling liquid in her glass. It didn’t smell like wine or anything else from Midgard but she seemed to be enjoying it. The mention of cracks in the barrier between the two realms reaffirmed Hellos’s claims that the veil w
as thinning. Menelaus wasn’t sure what that meant or how the realms themselves would be affected, but at least they wouldn’t have to unseal an unbreakable gateway. ‘And where are the infamous twins?’ Menelaus asked.
‘Probably in the main barracks at the south side of the city.’
Menelaus nodded. ‘Thank you. I need a bottle of that blood for the road.’ He chucked a couple of coins on the counter – courtesy of the dead body that had provided Rosalia with her hat, boots, and periscope.
‘Your custom is appreciated. If you need any men…’ He addressed Menelaus but eyed Rosalia. When was the last time these vampires had seen a woman?
My sister, he thought.
‘I’m capable.’ He tucked the blood bottle under his arm and reminded himself that he was called the Minotaur for a reason.
Rosalia decided to keep the club with her on the way out, smiling at the hooded guard as they ventured outside.
They passed gangs of vampires in the street but no one challenged them as they walked down towards the south. ‘I don’t like it that these vampires aren’t affected by the daylight,’ Menelaus said.
‘Most of them are dead already,’ Rosalia said. ‘And the ones who aren’t are under Loki and Hel’s protection.’
‘I don’t get it, why are they here? What is Loki up to?’
‘Invasion,’ she said, as they stepped aside to avoid a cartload of weaponry bumping along the cobbled road. ‘He already controls Helheim and Niflheim. Svartalfheim is the logical next step. Think about it, brother. Surt and Loki hate the Aesir but for a long time they have also hated each other.’
‘No one likes competition.’
‘Exactly. But if Loki seizes the lower regions of Yggdrasil, he can present Surt with a choice: be invaded by the Hordes, or join forces to conquer the Nine Realms.’
Menelaus smiled. ‘My big sister, the tactician.’
Wrath of Aten Page 15
