Wrath of Aten

by S. A. Ashdown

  Theo flicked his attention to Freyr. ‘I had a little help from some sprites. And your sister, Freyja. She sends her love.’ He held out his closed fist to Lorenzo. ‘I think it’s your job to look after these.’

  Ava’s eyes widened at the sight of the sapphire eternity rings. Theo stepped out of their embrace and took her arm. ‘Ah look, here comes your mother.’

  Lolita appeared through the crowd in a splendid gown – accompanied by Glen, given the envious task of carrying Ava’s Westie. ‘I’m glad someone is wearing white,’ Ava said as her mum took her other arm. ‘You’re not getting married too, are you?’

  Lolita winked. ‘Not today.’

  Ava looked straight ahead. The crowd had parted into aisles. Heimdall stepped into the street and stamped his foot, and the stones beneath them morphed into sharp pinks and lush greens, golden-yellow and amber, every hue of light.

  This is too surreal.

  Lorenzo and Freyr ran past them and hopped onto the top step of Freyja’s resplendent temple, and as they approached it, Persephone adorned the marble pillars with her magical, flowering vines. Ava glanced behind at their epically long procession.

  Well, I always dreamed I’d have a big wedding.

  Isobel grinned at her. Espen nodded, about as attached to his beloved as he could get. Eternal love ran in the family. Ava looked forward to continuing the tradition.

  ‘Am I dreaming?’ Ava asked, unable to comprehend how her despair had flourished into joy. ‘What are you now, Theo?’

  ‘The same boy you chased around Hellingstead Hall,’ he said. ‘But I don’t know exactly who else I am. The Gatekeeper is…everywhere. But my magic still sits in its centre.’

  ‘I’m proud of you, Sønn.’ Espen said, gripping his shoulder when they mounted the steps.

  ‘Thanks, Father.’

  As they arrived in front of Freyr, it became clear who was officiating. Ava remembered a lot about her childhood these days. How Theo had sneaked her into the temple without Espen’s permission, pointed to the statue with the funny thing on his lap, and told her that Freyr was the god his parents had sacrificed to when they had married.

  It all seemed so obvious and inevitable, and yet she had been too focused on the end of the world to foresee any of it. She gazed at Freyr, whose usual sparse clothing was replaced by a rippling purple gown and his Alfheim crown. He blushed at her. I guess he’s as good as my brother now.

  Freyr held his head high, rolled his shoulders back, and addressed the audience in his godly yet birdlike voice. Ava didn’t hear a word of it and she suspected Theo missed most of his elaborate speech too; she was busy absorbing every detail of Theo, from the firmness of his fingers to the line of his jaw and his glossy curls. What would possess a bride and groom to marry at sunset – harbinger of endings – Ava wondered, when sunrise promised so much more?

  Theo appeared as bashful as their officiator, although he laughed when Freyr withdrew the rope of hair that had been surreptitiously made – thanks to one speedy, West Country vampire – by cutting lengths of their hair while they had been occupied in each other’s smiles. Golden curls and rainbow streaks.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Ava said, as Freyr began to wind it around their wrists.

  ‘Ava, would you like to share your vows with Theo?’

  Oh gods. She hadn’t got that far. A chuckle descended down the aisles at her pause. ‘Of course,’ she said, taking a few deep breaths to bide her time. ‘Theodore Alistair Clemensen. What can I say? You have a habit of bursting into my life and tearing down my walls. You are willful and shy and overprotective and funny and gentle and fierce. You are unforgettable. But best of all, you are unpredictable. What else could a seer ask for? There’s a kingdom inside of us, and it’s one I can’t wait to build beside you.’

  Theo beamed at her.

  ‘And Theo?’ Freyr asked.

  ‘Ava Wallace,’ he said, ‘you are my rock and my fortress, my shield and my hammer, my present and everlasting bliss. I swear to honour and protect you and see to it that each new dawn makes your soul sing. There’s no one more suited to stand beside me in battle or to celebrate my triumphs with than you – if you wouldn’t object to my attentions and ministrations for possibly an eternity?’

  A squeak slipped out her lips despite herself. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I have no intention of losing you again.’

  ‘May the bearer of the rings please step forth,’ Freyr said, somehow sounding more mysterious than haughty. Lorenzo gave the sapphire rings to Freyr, who whispered a quiet blessing above them which Ava couldn’t hope to understand.

  Theo took the first one and slipped it onto her left, unbound hand. ‘I love you, Ava.’

  It was her turn. Freyr uncoiled the rope of hair and freed Theo’s wedding finger. She wasn’t surprised that the band fit him perfectly as hers had. ‘I love you too, Theo.’

  ‘As ordained by the Norns at the Dawn of Light,’ Freyr said, ‘I bind and bless these souls together in divine union. They are now Alpha and Omega, husband and wife.’ Freyr bit his bottom lip. ‘You may—’

  Theo’s lips pressed into hers before he could finish the sentence, the kiss met by a rolling cheer. She pulled away to catch her breath. ‘Add impulsive and impatient to that list,’ she said, giggling.

  ‘I’ve waited long enough to be with you, Ava.’

  She lost him for a moment in a flurry of hugs and congratulations from all quarters, and for the moment she didn’t mind being usurped for Theo’s attention by Isobel, who was busy smothering her son in lip-smacks of her own. Besides, she soon received the same treatment herself from Lolita and her mother-in-law.

  ‘Do we get any paperwork to prove we are married?’ Ava asked when they found each other again. ‘I’m presuming we’re returning to Midgard?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Theo said. ‘The new head of the Praetoriani – or whatever he decides to call it – can whip up the appropriate form with a little help from the family lawyer. Isn’t that right, Menelaus?’

  ‘Huh?’ Menelaus said, gaping. Theo hooked Ava’s elbow and they began the slow walk down the rainbow street. ‘Head of the—’

  ‘Who better than you, cuz?’ Theo called back.

  They didn’t wait for his reply. ‘So, any ideas for the honeymoon?’ Theo asked.

  ‘As long as it doesn’t involve sky-towers,’ Ava said, ‘I’m happy.’

  ‘No trips to Dubai. Got it. Then you’re up for slaying Surt on our way home? I hear Alfheim is glorious this time of year.’

  Ava gripped his muscly forearm and laughed. What couldn’t they take on now? ‘It sounds perfect,’ she said. ‘But maybe for the moment, we could just dance.’ She tugged him away from the path, and they twirled together, the central cog in the wheel of Asgard as everyone joined in, hurriedly finding partners. The trumpets that had heralded bloodshed found a happier tune. Ava couldn’t help but sing along, giving words to the music.

  Above them, Strix flew over the ramparts and landed on Nikolaj’s shoulder. Theo whistled with relief as the last member of his coven returned from battle. ‘That’s our good omen,’ he said.

  56

  Alfheim: Land of Ash

  Lorenzo stood motionless, his keen attention fixed on the happy couple. Married. He suddenly felt old. And a little bit odd whenever he stole a glance at floaty Freyr, who had changed magically into his normal nature-god garb. ‘Hey, Freyr,’ he said. ‘Now Theo cracked the crystal on your sword, do you have your powers back?’

  ‘They’re gone,’ he said. ‘I had the landvættirs resurrect Theo’s body with its magic. The least I could do.’ Lorenzo smiled as Freyr creased the patch above his nose; his frown reminding him of a child trying to puzzle something out. ‘However, I’m not concerned. If anyone can reinvest a little magic in the God of Alfheim, it’s the Eternal One.’

  ‘Oh, you mean Odin?’

  ‘No,’ Freyr said, shaking his loose curls, ‘Theo, of course.’

  ‘Wait. He’s immortal now
?’

  ‘He is Yggdrasil. Can’t you sense it? Can’t you feel it?’

  ‘Are you telling me that he should be God?’

  Freyr giggled. ‘The All Father? Theo is more powerful than Odin.’

  A throat clearing. Lorenzo looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Menelaus but instead meeting the face of an old man with an eye patch. ‘Dear Freyr, do you really think it time for my retirement? I thought I was a veritable spring chicken.’

  ‘Your Highness,’ Freyr said, immediately kneeling. Lorenzo dropped down too. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean…’

  Lorenzo became aware of the men and women behind them prostrating for the King of Asgard – including Ava and Theo. Silence replaced the fanfare. Odin rolled back his great shoulders, and Lorenzo sensed there was so much more to the god than he currently witnessed.

  ‘Children of Asgard, should I abdicate and offer my crown to our saviour?’

  No one replied.

  Lorenzo heard Theo sigh and rise to his feet. ‘I am honoured by the offer,’ Theo said, ‘but a wise sprite once cautioned me to always be the one who prays, and never the one who answers. I think that’s sound advice. The greatest gift my wife and I could receive from Asgard is the freedom to return home to Midgard and grow up together in Hellingstead Hall, as we were always meant to.’

  Odin scratched his long, white beard and grunted. ‘Nevertheless, I hope you’ll be a candidate in the next election,’ the All Father said. ‘Because you shall have the backing of this old man.’

  There’s going to be an election? Lorenzo thought. It hadn’t occurred to him that the Asgardians organised their politics in that way. He also felt a little disappointed that he wasn’t about to become the right-hand man of the Heavenly Throne.

  ‘Lorenzo Angelucci, you may rise.’

  Freyr nudged him.

  ‘Do I have to?’ he whispered. What did Odin want with him?

  Freyr nudged him harder and Lorenzo stood up. ‘Your Majesty?’

  ‘I have a gift for you, since you managed to misplace both your Sarrow bow and the Gatekeeper’s sword.’

  ‘That one isn’t my fault,’ Lorenzo protested. ‘It disappeared in a puff of smoke when Theo plummeted to Earth.’

  Odin squeezed his eyebrows together. Lorenzo shut up. Then Odin presented him with the spear at his side. ‘Consider it a spit to roast Surt’s flesh upon.’

  Lorenzo’s stomach flipped. ‘Err…thank you, Your Majesty.’

  ‘And Menelaus Knight, where are you?’

  Lorenzo stepped aside for his Guardian/vampire-uncle/professor.

  ‘The Pneuma of Midgard are in chaos, confused and afraid. As Theo has ordained, you must shoulder the burden of leading them. Do you accept?’

  Menelaus couldn’t hide his pleasure. This was his purpose. Everyone else knew it and finally he did too. ‘I do.’

  ‘Such an enterprise will take considerable resources. You may borrow my golden ring, Draupnir. It brings great wealth, enough to build a society that nourishes magic and celebrates diversity. How convenient for the Pneuma that their leader is suspended between life and death and therefore has the time to see his vision fulfilled. It’s almost as if it was planned.’ He pressed Draupnir into Menelaus’s palm.

  As usual, Menelaus didn’t say much. Odin patted him on the shoulder, and strolled away. As inexplicably as he arrived, the trumpets blared again, and the dancing continued as if nothing had happened. Lorenzo turned to Freyr. ‘Well, if you can’t beat them, join them, right?’

  ‘Are you asking me to dance?’

  ‘To the end of love.’

  ‘Like the bell tower.’ Freyr smiled, remembering the song they’d first found their rhythm to. ‘We might be dancing for a while then.’

  Lorenzo pulled him into the centre of the crowd, relieved to find that Odin’s spear disappeared the second he let go of it. He was sure it would return when needed as Ormdreper always had for Theo. He nipped Freyr’s earlobe, too quick for anyone to notice. ‘A while is all we need.’

  ‘Lorenzo!’ Theo shouted, spilling half the contents of his drinking horn as he saluted him. ‘Sit next to me and Ava, for Odin’s sake!’ He patted the spare place that Lorenzo had yet to occupy – he’d been too busy enjoying his own meal from Freyr’s neck.

  His sprite was in high demand – after all, he’d only just resurfaced from centuries of hiding – leaving Lorenzo free to join the bride and groom at the banqueting table, under the tree that dominated the interior of Freyja’s temple. He admired the lanterns hanging off its branches, a written prayer to Freyja placed inside each like moths attracted to flame. No matter where her soul was – in the universe somewhere or inside Ava’s veins – Freyja’s presence would endure. He hoped he could convince his lover to accept that too and make peace with her passing.

  Lorenzo flicked his attention to his best friend. ‘I’ve prepared a speech,’ he said, lacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles.

  ‘No!’ Theo groaned. ‘Please. We hardly met under good circumstances.’

  ‘But surely everyone wants to hear about how we fought like alley cats over what I did and didn’t do with Grace,’ Lorenzo said, deliberately raising his voice, ‘and the time you saved me from being staked by your father? Oh, hi, Espen.’

  Opposite them, Espen rolled his eyes and took another swig of whatever substance dead people drank. He guessed that Theo’s parents had special dispensation to be here as head of Odin’s army.

  ‘Or what about how I almost set myself on fire because you rang the church bells in the middle of the night and scared the—’

  ‘Or the time we tried to kill Menelaus,’ Theo interrupted, wincing at his cousin, who was sitting between his mother and his aunt, ‘and the time you actually did.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t in my right mind. What’s your excuse?’

  Theo laughed. Ava stuck her head around her husband. ‘I think we can skip the speech. I don’t even know where my mum has gone; last I checked she’d sneaked away with your mum and their Fae bodyguards – again.’

  ‘Hey,’ Theo said, rubbing his palms with glee. ‘You’re more about action than words, right? Ava and I are going to bail the afterparty and hunt down Surt. Fancy being Freyr’s knight in shining armour and lending us a spear? One last adventure before going home.’

  Lorenzo swallowed. He hadn’t yet told his best friend – or his own mother for that matter – that he didn’t intend to return to Midgard. Mind you, his mum didn’t seem that keen to leave Sage’s side either.

  ‘Great minds think alike,’ Lorenzo said. ‘That was the planned entertainment. An excursion to the fiery remains of Alfheim. Because a fanfare wasn’t enough.’

  Theo poked his ribs. ‘I knew you were behind all this,’ he said, ‘and really, thank you. It means a lot that someone had confidence in my inevitable triumph.’

  ‘What are friends for?’

  ‘Family, Lorenzo.’

  He didn’t resist as Theo pulled him in for a hug and patted his cheek. But he did suddenly find the edges of his napkin fascinating. ‘When do we leave?’

  Theo wriggled his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak.

  ‘After lunch, of course,’ Ava said.

  ‘My wife knows me so well.’

  Lorenzo sighed, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t convinced the Asgardian cooks to produce a seven-course banquet in the middle of an apocalypse; what was he meant to do while everyone gorged themselves? It wasn’t like he’d be presented with a silver platter and voilà, off comes the lid and Freyr would gaze up with his fawn-like eyes mouthing ‘eat me’. Lorenzo licked his lips.

  He pushed his side plate over to Theo. ‘I’ll leave you to it—’

  A serving girl plonked a bowl of bloody soup in front of him. ‘Courtesy of our prisoners of war,’ Theo said to him and Menelaus, who was receiving the same treatment. Michele, ensconced in a shadowy region of the temple, nodded his appreciation when his arrived. ‘What? You didn’t think we’d forget you?’


  ‘Nah,’ Lorenzo said, lifting the spoon to his lips.

  The blood of the Golden Knives made a delicious appetiser.

  They didn’t need Odin’s help to reopen the portal to Alfheim; the veil opened for Theo like a curtain on a string when they entered the vast plains outside the ramparts. Lorenzo glanced back at them, rammed with well-wishers and the currently unemployed soldiers-of-the-final-battle. Would Odin allow them to move on now Ragnarök had been averted? Questions abounded as he tried to distract himself from Theo’s awe-inspiring but terrifying power.

  Thank the gods I decided to be his friend. Although, if he was honest, their friendship was accidental at best. Theo probably called it fate.

  After the wedding-party remainders congregated on the plain, Theo led the expedition to the courtyard in Aurelia’s palace. Lorenzo initially planned for the wedding to take place there, so blossoms decorated every inch, albeit covered in a coating of volcanic ash. He wondered idly if he’d bother putting so much effort into his own nuptials.

  He leant over to inhale the natural fragrance of Freyr’s hair. Don’t think about it, Lorenzo. Not yet.

  ‘Listen up,’ Theo announced. ‘I’m popping out to kill Surt. Ava and Lorenzo are coming with me. And Menelaus. We’ll be back before sunset.’ He paused. ‘Freyr, you can come if you want but…’

  Freyr shook those raven curls. ‘No. I entrust my Royal Consort to do my bidding.’ He winked at Lorenzo.

  A part of him melted. The crowd around them murmured, spreading the gossip around the courtyard. ‘I won’t let you down,’ he said, but it came out as a rasp.

  ‘Hey,’ Theo said, ‘fancy a ride on a Craven for one last time, before, you know, they revert back to being just big birds?’ He whistled, and seconds later Odin’s creatures were casting shadows across the Fae Isles.

  Theo transported his group of Surt assassins to Nikolaj’s tower, marred by volcanic residue. ‘You and Menelaus can take the Cravens,’ Theo said. ‘Ava and I will fly.’

  ‘I might get in your way if you’re carrying me,’ Ava said.