The Odin Inheritance (The Pessarine Chronicles Book 1)

by Victoria L. Scott

  Laufeson nearly glowed with triumph. “Yet I have done it – with your help, of course,” he said, inclining his head in gratitude. “She carries Odin’s attributes, but no longer merits his favor. Of her own free will, she gave herself, body and soul, to me.”

  “I sense only your mark upon her,” Hades ground out. “She has great power. I congratulate you on your success. Only two more steps are required for our bargain to be complete.”

  Laufeson inclined his head in thanks. “Indeed, my Lord,” he said.

  Hades reached down a smoky hand to surround us, warm and sulfurous. “I will take you to Loki,” he said and closed his massive foggy fist, enveloping us in a dark mist of tortured faces that obscured everything.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  When the fumes of Hades’ hand dissipated, we stood at the entrance to a rocky, steamy cavern lit with low burning torches. The stone under our feet was slick with dirty wet moss and the air smelled of animal fear, mold and old urine. It reminded me of the cloying smell of the cages at the London Zoo.

  Andrew, Toby, and Silas coughed and choked, working to rid Hades’ brimstone from their throats and lungs. The fumes didn’t bother me though I didn’t know why. I stood unmoving behind Laufeson, who wiped his eyes and mouth before he turned back to look at the rest of us.

  Suddenly, an olive-skinned, dark-haired man with a lean body and a hooked nose appeared next to Laufeson. He wore a black robe and his eyes burned red like coals.

  “Hades,” Laufeson said to the newcomer as he turned back to face forward, “so nice of you to join us – and in mortal form.”

  “Yes. It’s easier to move about in this part of my realm this way. Since you’re clever, Son of Loki, I’ll stay close to ensure you keep your bargain,” Hades said, his accent exotic and smooth. “I know your father’s reputation well, as I do yours. I will have what you promised me.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. What could Laufeson have promised the god of the Underworld? Toby and Silas shifted and looked at each other, clearly wondering the same thing I was.

  Andrew crossed his arms and glared at Laufeson and Hades. “I knew this trip would get us all killed,” he said coldly. “Bargains made with the son of a Trickster god? You’ve been too long underground, my Lord Hades.”

  Hades’ eyes blazed like fire, and a hot wind, tinged with brimstone, blew over us, making his black robe undulate across his body. “The Facti speaks,” he ground out. He waved a hand and Andrew doubled over, gasping in pain. “Speak again, mortal, and I will take your Moon god’s artifacts and end your pitiful existence in the most painful way possible.”

  Andrew said nothing and looked up to meet Hades’ fiery gaze without fear.

  Hades snapped his fingers and Andrew gasped again, then slowly stood up straight, the pain apparently gone. The God of the Dead turned, strode to the front of our group and indicated the mouth of the cavern. “Come. Loki gets few visitors, especially since he’s here in my domain and not in Helheim. The Norse rarely come here. We mustn’t keep him waiting.”

  He entered the cavern, holding up his hand and generating a red light in it to illuminate the way. Laufeson followed, beckoning the rest of us to follow him.

  As we walked further down the tunnel, the zoo smell increased in intensity, as did the heat. Toby and Silas pulled out handkerchiefs to cover their noses and mouths, gagging on the smell. Andrew put his hand over his mouth and nose.

  We rounded a corner and Hades stopped, waving his right hand to send pulses of red light to the sconces on the walls of what was a cave. A huge tree root, gnarled with age, crawled down the wall to our left, smaller and smaller roots spreading out from it to crisscross the wet floor under our feet like a carpet. Three pointed monolithic stones rose ten feet from the floor. Loki lay pinioned across the three points, his hands and feet bound with reddish-blue ropes that glistened with blood and moisture and shook as the man writhed in agony. His eyes were screwed shut as he moved his head back and forth in an attempt to avoid something dropping down on him from above, with little success.

  Loki’s skin was filthy, as was the loincloth that covered his lower torso and hips. The animal smell of urine and the stench of a long unwashed human body emanated from the Trickster god, as did the smell of offal from the entrails binding him to the stones. On our side of Loki, a worn set of stone stairs led up to the top of the monoliths near his head, but at the moment they stood empty. Behind him, the cavern extended in a narrow tunnel.

  Hades sent more red spheres of light to hover higher in the air, revealing a stalactite plunging down from the top of the cavern. Coiled around the stalactite was a huge black snake, its mouth open showing huge dripping fangs and a forked tongue flicking back and forth. Venom dropped onto Loki’s face. With each drop, he let out a hoarse cry and twisted more frantically in his bonds.

  “Where are you, cow?!!” Loki screamed. “Why do you delay?!!!”

  A wraith-like woman in filthy brown rags came from around the back of the monolith out of the narrow tunnel at the man’s feet. She moved up the steps wearily. A coarsely woven scarf covered her face below her eyes and much of her head, while stringy blonde hair caked with grime tumbled out over the top of the scarf. She put a basin with gnarled dirty hands above Loki’s face that caught the drops of venom, and the spasms in his limbs eased. His complaints did not.

  “Sigyn, my wife,” Loki ground out, distaste in his voice, “you move too slowly! One would think you live to watch me suffer, you bovine wretch!” Sigyn held the bowl and said nothing in response to her husband’s insults.

  I shuddered to think what the god had done to earn the eternal torment we witnessed. The red light of Hades’ magic cast everything in a flickering bloody haze. Shadows flitted in and out as Loki writhed and Sigyn strained to hold the bowl in place.

  Loki turned his head, green eyes open now that the drops of venom hit the bowl above his head. His face was burned and eaten away by the venom, but as we watched, the muscles and flesh rebuilt themselves on the exposed bones though the repairs were red, scarred and puckered. Old blood palattered his neck and torso, removed wth new droplets. Loki noticed our presence in the cavern and his scarred lips sneered at us.

  “Hades, you son of an ugly whore of Ishtar, why do you invade my cavern? My cries are not loud enough to be heard in your throne room?” The ends of Loki’s fingers glowed with flickering green fire and he flexed his fingers, sending balls of green flame from each careening around the cavern so we had to duck and dodge to avoid them.

  “Now Loki,” Hades admonished, unmoved by Loki’s attack, “is that any way to treat guests… or your gracious host?”

  “Release me, Hades!” Loki roared. “Have I not suffered enough? Release me!”

  “You know I cannot,” Hades replied, his tone matter of fact. “Odin and the other members of your pantheon condemned you to this existence here with me. They couldn’t leave you under the control of your daughter Hel in Helheim for fear she’d release you. By their command, I haven’t the power to alter your confinement. Perhaps if you had not engineered the death of Baldur, your punishment would have been less…” he paused, face wrinkling in distaste, “…gooey.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “But that hardly matters now. Every time I come, you and I have the same pointless conversation. You know as well as I do that I can’t release you.” The god indicated us. “I’ve brought you visitors. That should lighten your torment a little, surely.”

  Loki growled bitterly. “I am not some exhibit in a museum,” he spat. “Begone, mine host,” he sneered, “and leave me to my fate.”

  “Great Loki,” Laufeson said reverently, kneeling on the filthy carpet of roots and grime before his god, “it is I, your Heir. I have come as promised and seek your favor.”

  Loki’s eyes narrowed in calculation. “Ah… my Heir, in possession of my artifact,” he said, his tone oily with suspicion. “I’ve done all I could to answer your prayers for power and dominion. What power I could be spar
ed I sent to you. Bound as I am, I can do nothing more. I meant you to use that power in the world above. Your trip here has been in vain. Leave me and hope Hades does not take your life instead of granting you safe passage home.”

  “Father,” Laufeson persisted, “I seek to assist you. I beg you, examine my companions. What do you sense about them?”

  Loki looked at Hades. “What trickery is this, Hades?”

  “No trickery, Deceiver,” Hades responded. “Do as he asks. You may be surprised.”

  Loki looked us over carefully, his inspection obviously more than visual. “You have brought me a Facti of some minor Egyptian healing god, and two servants who stink of your mechanical sorcery… but the female…” he paused, thinking, “…she is almost Valkyrie and carries the favor of Odin, but she too has the marks of your arcane mysteries upon her. How can she be your creature and Odin’s, and how does this help me?”

  “The Valkyrie can break Odin’s bonds upon you, Father. I worked for years to craft her into the tool you see here. Under my instruction, she’ll end your suffering and bring about your release.”

  Loki shook his head. “If Hades can’t release me, neither can this hybrid female you created. Odin will not allow it.”

  Laufeson lowered his head and hands so he lay prostrate in supplication. “Father, may I try to release you? If I fail, you’ve lost nothing, but if I succeed you’ll have gained everything. What say you?”

  “He’s immortal,” Andrew said, scoffing at the thought Loki could be released. “His torment isn’t supposed to end. Loki is destined to stay here, bound by the entrails of his son and suffering forever.”

  “Haven’t I suffered enough, mortal?!” Loki roared. “I engineered the death of Baldur, yet he didn’t suffer as I do! His pain was brief, while mine is unending! He has hope of rebirth while I languish in this stinking prison; my only companion this feeble, hated harridan! Her attempts to ease my torment are frail and laughable! You know nothing of the pain I endure!”

  “Will you allow me to try, Father? May I attempt to free you?” Laufeson asked again, sitting up.

  Loki laughed manically. “Try, son,” he giggled, “but face my wrath if you fail!”

  The Son of Loki stood. “Watch carefully,” he said to Andrew, “while I prove you wrong.” He turned to Hades. “I am ready, my Lord,” he intoned.

  Hades tilted his head and narrowed his coal red eyes. “But the price has not been paid,” he said gravely.

  Laufeson indicated Toby, Silas, and Andrew. “There are three men here,” he said. “Take any of them you wish as payment. I give them to you.”

  Andrew tensed, ready to defend himself or run. The other two men looked at each other in confusion, understanding slowly that Laufeson had just given them to the Lord of the Underworld to do with as he saw fit.

  “Choices, Son of Loki? How very generous,” Hades said, looking over the men.

  My mind raced. But... Laufeson had given his word—I thought—and then, I understood. I cursed my own foolish stupidity. I struggled against Odin’s mental barrier, pushing against it with all the cognitive force I could muster, some of my effort driven by panic. Come on… come on… I willed, gritting mental teeth as I pushed. It didn’t work, of course. I tried to move my limbs and interpose myself between Hades and Andrew, but that didn’t work either. Damn and blast! I swore, wishing I had control of my mouth so I could do more than think my curses. I’m a fool!

  Laufeson had promised not to hurt Andrew and said he’d ‘give him up’—which he’d just done, by giving him to Hades. Hades had made no promise to leave Andrew unharmed, and he’d already threatened to kill Andrew once. Trapped as I was in my own body by Odin’s impenetrable magic and Laufeson’s damnable sorcery, I could do nothing to prevent Hades hurting Andrew. He’d die deep in Hell, and all I could do was watch.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “So what’s the bargain you struck?” Andrew asked, his gaze flickering from Laufeson to Hades and back.

  The woman in rags removed the bowl from above Loki’s head and made her way down the stairs to empty it. Loki’s animal howls of pain and maniacal giggles slashed through the cavern as the venom began to dissolve his face again.

  Laufeson winced at the sound while Hades just looked bored. The others put their hands over their ears in an attempt to drown out the ululations. I stood unmoving, my continued attempts to do something—anything—unsuccessful.

  “Ariana’s calculations of how long it will take to spread my magic across the world were sadly accurate,” Laufeson said, stepping forward and speaking louder to be heard over Loki’s cries. “Even after she constructs more of the smaller Diabolicals and they begin to disperse across the world, it’ll be decades or longer before the job is complete. No matter how much I worship Loki, he can’t extend my life as far as required to see the plan to its end.”

  “But Hades can, I take it?” Andrew bit out, moving slowly toward the cavern’s entrance.

  “All I need is one life in service to me in exchange for another,” Hades explained, “and a Facti of a healing god will do very nicely, however minor.”

  The Son of Loki clasped his hands behind his back and smiled in satisfaction. “I give you to Hades, he gives me hundreds of years of life without fear of disease or growing old,” Laufeson explained, as if trading in lives was as mundane as buying a horse. “Add in one or two other men as a bonus, it’s an equitable trade, I think.”

  “Now wait a minute, Boss—“ Toby stammered as he started to back away, grabbing Silas as he went. He jostled into me, knocking me toward the gnarled root along the wall of the cavern. Andrew attempted to make a break for the exit in the confusion, running around and behind Laufeson’s two Enhanced thugs and pushing them more in my direction as he did so. I put out my left hand to catch myself against the root and my palm made contact with the bark.

  I stiffened in surprise as a wave of power and awareness flowed though me. The tableau of horror in front of me slowed to a crawl as Yggdrasil’s silent recognition and assurance wound its way up my arm and around the perimeter of my thoughts. Without warning, it moved through Odin’s barrier and into the protected part of my mind to make contact between us easier.

  My initial wonder at Yggdrasil’s ability to pass through Odin’s barrier gave way to relief at finally being able to communicate with someone, even if she was a supernatural tree. Any questions I might have had devolved into a desperate attempt to tell the World Tree everything I’d experienced and thought all at once. My panicked fears about Andrew and what Laufeson wanted me to do to the world flitted about like frightened moths at the top of my mind, fueled by the deaths of my friends, the destruction of the Bosch and my metamorphosis into a human/mechanical/magical hybrid at the mercy of a madman.

  The World Tree dealt with change on a glacial scale, only truly understanding large spans of time. To Yggdrasil, a season like autumn passed by in the blink of an eye. Therefore, short term events presented in a flurry of frenetic mental activity were harder for the tree to grasp. Yggdrasil made me understand she knew I was distressed, was aware my essential essence had been altered and that beings had died, though she had difficulty with the concept of the massively infinitesimal span of time within which these things had happened. She offered sympathy for my concerns and magical energy if I required it, but she was clearly at a loss as to what else she could do.

  Can you prevent Hades from hurting Andrew?

  No, she said, her response sad.

  Can you help me do something to save Andrew?

  Perhaps, but her response made it clear she didn’t know what she could do, and the time frame in which it had to be done confused her.

  I wondered if energy from the tree would enable me to reverse the changes Laufeson’s Diabolical had made to me. That, at least, would put a stop to Laufeson’s plan to convert the inhabitants of Earth into his puppets. If that worked, I’d only have to destroy the mini Diabolicals back in the great hall.

 
; No, she whispered in my mind. Despair filled me and I tried to pull my hand from the root but found I couldn’t.

  Wait, it urged, sibilant and unhurried. Be still and wait. Let me see you, and then through you.

  The power in the voice enforced its desire and I stilled, standing as Yggdrasil examined every cell in my body, every swirl of silver on my skin, and every bit of magic that was now part of me.

  You have complete control over your exterior, the World Tree noted. Remove the covering on your feet so your bare flesh touches the floor.

  I concentrated and found that I did have control over my attire, which was essentially a magical construct woven from both Odin’s and Loki’s magic. I willed the boots to disappear and the soles of my feet touched the grimy mat of roots along the floor of Loki’s cavern. Yggdrasil’s awareness seeped into me from there, like sap moved up from the roots of a tree. She filled my mind, calculating and glacial in her patience, and I became the eyes and ears of the World Tree.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The tableau of chaos wound back up to its normal speed. Toby, Andrew, and Silas scrambled to get away from Hades, but he snapped his fingers and closed off the end of the cavern, cutting off the only escape route. Then he curled his right index finger and the wall he’d erected began to move inward, forcing the three men back into the cavern. The men faced the Lord of the Underworld, their backs against the wall and arms outstretched, trying to keep the wall from moving forward by planting their feet.

  It didn’t work. The wall stopped moving and the three stood against it like men facing a firing squad.

  Loki’s howls, less loud but more hoarse, reverberated against the cavern walls. “Sigyn, you stinking harpy!” he screamed, “why do you delay?!!! I curse your miserable hide, worthless nag!”

  “I’m not goin’ without a fight,” Silas said, looking at Toby and Andrew, his eyes wild with fear. He went on the attack. He ran forward a few steps and sent his silver snakes from his outstretched arms to strike Hades in the head.