Gears of Mischief (The Valhalla Mechanism Book 1)

by Kendra Moreno

  I released the man who thought himself as large as the Gods behind me and stepped back, opening my arms, no longer fighting. It was a waste of energy. I couldn’t haul my Gods out of here while they were unconscious, and we needed to figure out a plan. I could escape any cage they put me in, though the Director should have known that, which posed a risk. Loki and Thor were my backup plan, because if a cage couldn’t hold me, it certainly couldn’t hold them.

  The Beast Guild grabbed me, multiple sets of hands serving as temporary handcuffs. And then Calvin had the bravery, once I was detained, to step forward again. I grinned at the smug grin on his face, watching him draw close, closer, too close. I almost tsked.

  “Stand back—” one of the Beast Guild started, obviously recognizing what I already had.

  “Always sticking your nose into things you shouldn’t,” Calvin purred, so I did just that. I slammed my skull against his, breaking his nose with a crack. My hands were held in place, but I still managed to snap my leg out and catch him between the legs for good measure. There was sweet satisfaction as I watched him drop to the ground, his face twisted with agony, his hands cupping his privates. Now, with no job to go back to, I could do what I wanted to the worm, I could hurt him.

  “Enjoy your promotion,” I cooed as the Beasts jerked me backwards and slammed me into the floor. I laughed as someone put a knee in my back, as they pressed me between the two Gods. They were all fools, but they would realize soon how wrong they all were.

  I just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  As it turned out, the Beast Guild worked differently than the Raven Wing. There was no gentle questioning, no instant assassination—which I was thankful for. There was me, in a cell, chained to a chair as the man in charge strode around me in circles, an intimidation tactic, no less. Too bad it wasn’t working.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “To warn the Queen because my Guild failed me,” I repeated. I had said the line for the better part of an hour, regardless of who swung at my stomach, regardless of the ice-cold water thrown on me that began to freeze, regardless of the threat to stick needles beneath my fingernails. My story did not waver because it was true.

  On the other side of the cell, Thor and Loki were tossed half-hazardly against the wall. I had grimaced when I’d heard their skulls snap against the metal floor, and hoped it wouldn’t prolong their sleep. I could really use their help right about now.

  “And why are you travelling with the threats?” he asked, tossing a knife into the air and catching it before doing it again.

  “If you mean Thor and Loki, they’re the ones trying to stop Ragnarök. It’s the dark elves that pose a threat.” I grinned. “And the end of the world, of course.”

  “You swore fealty to your Queen—”

  “I did,” I growled. “And that’s why I’m here. What do I have to bloody say for you to listen to me? Does the world need to end permanently first? Will you believe me as the earth splits and war spreads through the nine realms? Will you believe me when all that you know is already dead?”

  “Enough!” The Beast turned, and I got another long look at his face. I knew it for the bad sign it was. If this man was in this cell with us, none were supposed to live to describe his face. The Enforcer, the Executioner, and the Intelligence all wrapped up into one person.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” I murmured, studying him, burning his face into my memory. He was hesitating, should have already killed me. Extended torture was not his habit, and I knew that because I had studied everything about the Beast Guild, had thought I desperately wanted to be one.

  Now, I knew better.

  “You’re a talented spy,” he answered instead, crouching down to put himself at my eye level. I stared into his handsome face, the lines there so like Thod’s, it was difficult to separate them. Even their eye color was the same, which gave me hope that it was Thod in the beginning, until he had slammed his fist into my stomach only minutes before. Thod would have never hit me, not without warning, not even for a cover.

  “Tell that to Raven Wing.” I kept my chin up, even with my aching body, even with all the numbness in my bones, I remained the lady I was trained to be. I would not cower before death. It would cower before me.

  “I don’t need to. Thodeous already told me about you, about the spy who was so much more, the woman who seemed to surpass every obstacle with ease.” I stared into his eyes as he spoke, searching for the connection there. “Which is why I cannot understand this plan to break into Buckingham Palace and pose a threat to the Queen you’ve sworn to protect.”

  “I’m here to warn the Queen because my Guild failed me.”

  He smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile, not truly. There was true appraisal in his eyes, recognizing what I was capable of, respecting it even, but he had a job to do.

  “Thodeous is my brother,” he admitted, and I scrunched my face up. “He will be terribly upset that I executed his prized pupil.”

  “Then listen to what I’m saying instead.” I would not beg. I didn’t dare. I would not lower myself more than I already had by allowing them to capture me. My eyes trailed over to Thor and Loki, their eyes closed though they seemed to grow more restless. I had hoped they would wake one last time before I was executed, but that seemed futile.

  “You care for them.”

  I snapped my eyes to the man claiming to be Thod’s brother. “Why would I care for my tools?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Fondness makes our masks slip, and the moment you looked at them, I knew.” He glanced at the chained men, contemplating. “It intrigues me that we have bullets capable of taking out men of their status, at least for short moments. We will have use for them, to test our theories, but I’m afraid, we do not have much use for you, Ottilie.”

  I raised my chin. “When you kill me, and the world still ends,” I said, my voice soft, “make sure you tell everyone you failed them, that you killed the one that warned you.”

  The corner of his lips ticked up, that knife twisting between his fingers. “I’ll tell Thod you said hello,” he murmured and lifted the blade to my neck. I felt it prick my skin, but I didn’t dare move, didn’t do anything but hold his gaze steadily. If I was going to die, I would do so with my dignity.

  “What are you waiting for?” I asked, his blade drawing drops of blood when my throat moved. “This is what you wanted, Executioner.” He hummed in his throat, his hand steady on the knife, but he didn’t slide it across my neck.

  The earth beneath my bound feet began to rumble.

  The Executioner glanced at the floor, at the gentle shaking that was barely detectable, and frowned.

  “That would be the next stage of Ragnarök,” I murmured. “You know, the end of the world that no one seems to believe is happening even though the moon was swallowed by a wolf, and so was the sun, and all the stars fell from the sky, and the winter is getting worse even though it’s spring.” He looked at me. “But please, continue not believing me. Continue to think I’ve gone insane when you kneel in a room with literal Gods.”

  His calculating eyes landed on mine, the color so like Thod’s, it would have been near impossible to separate the two if not for the torture this one had subjected me to. We waited, him with his knife against my throat and me with everything to lose if he decided to slide it across my skin. And then he surprised me.

  The Executioner flicked his knife away.

  I stared at him with widened eyes, confused. In all my studying of the Executioner, in all the info I had of him besides his picture and his name, not once had he changed his mind, whether the accused was innocent or not.

  “Do not get your hopes up,” he surmised, holding up his knife so I could see the blood trickling down the blade. It moved down my neck, too, from the wound he had left. It was an insignificant wound, no damage to anything vital, but it would most likely scar. It would bleed until I could cover the wound. “I saw how they reacted towards yo
u, how they fought to stay awake for your benefit alone. And I saw how they killed no one though they were capable of it. If they are your weakness, then you are also theirs, and if the world is ending as you say it is, then the best way to force them to help is through you.”

  I shook my head, disgusted with the warriors of my country. I had not once given them reason to believe I was not telling the truth, had done nothing but try to tell person after person what was going to happen, and this was the solution.

  “They were already helping, arsehole.” I curled my lip up. “They were helping the entire time.”

  “And we shot them. They won’t be likely to help now, not without some convincing.”

  I grinned. “And you think me important enough to sway Gods? You’re more deluded than I gave you credit for, Executioner.”

  The answering smile didn’t make mine falter on the outside, though it did on the inside. “Perhaps, I am not the only one deluded,” he murmured softly.

  The Executioner stood and wiped his knife on his trousers before sliding it away. He threw one last glance towards the sleeping Gods before leaving the cell completely, slamming the iron door shut behind him. Some sort of symbols were etched into the metal there but I couldn’t make anything out from my position.

  The rumbling earth grew louder, and Loki shot up at the same moment, the shaking reviving him. I breathed a sigh of relief, even as the aches and pains in my body seemed to grow. At least they hadn’t died, and nothing was more a symbol of their divinity than healing from an intense bullet wound within an hour.

  “The branches of Yggdrasil,” Loki grumbled, looking over at Thor. He kicked him with his boot, jostling him awake, too.

  I leaned my head back, looking at them through hooded eyes, focusing on managing the pain of possibly bruised ribs and the growing cold. Prisons were not meant to be warm, and I had a bucket of water tossed on me. Ice had already formed on my clothing, but I could feel it starting to tip my fingers and the edge of my eyelashes.

  Loki’s eyes found mine and he stood, the manacles jingling on his wrist. They didn’t look like any manacles I had ever seen, strange symbols carved into them like what had to be on the cell door. It wasn’t like I could ask the Executioner what they were. It wasn’t like he would have told me if I’d managed.

  “Tillie?”

  I flexed my fingers in the entirely human chains I was strapped down with, the manacles too tight to ensure I couldn’t slip out of them. It had been clever because I most definitely would have slipped out otherwise.

  “It is about—” my teeth began to chatter, and I cursed, suddenly unable to speak. I had been holding back while the Executioner had been in the cell, but it seemed even I had my limits. My teeth clacked loudly no matter how hard I tried to corral them. Once the shivers began, I couldn’t stop them.

  “Your lips are blue,” Loki murmured, coming over to kneel before me, taking the place the Executioner had vacated. The manacles afford him some movement, the space between them enough that he could put his hands on my bare knees, and his fire began to warm me slowly. It didn’t immediately spread outward like I would have preferred but I understood why he chose to move slowly. I wasn’t a God, didn’t have fancy healing powers. If I warmed too quickly, I could lose limbs.

  “Save. Your. Magic,” I grit out, my body starting to shake even with his warmth. I knew how close I was to hypothermia, knew that he was moving as fast as he could.

  “This is my fire,” he reassured me. “It takes none of my magic.”

  Thor sat up with the next rumble, his hand pressed against his chest where he’d been shot, his fingers probing at the now healed wound. “Tillie.”

  “I’m fine.” My voice was a weak rasp, contrasting the message I wanted to send, and he stood and shuffled over. Loki had only had his hands manacled, but Thor had both his legs and hands. I supposed they thought his strength was a threat more so than anything.

  “Warm her faster, Loki.”

  “I can’t. If I do that, she’ll warm too fast and could lose limbs.” Loki glanced up at Thor. “Use your body heat for her back.”

  “I can’t with the chains and chair.”

  Loki curled his lip. “Break them, Thor. They are nothing more than human chains.”

  I felt a tug and then the chains wrapped around me loosened and fell to the floor, before I was lifted and cradled in Thor’s lap when he took a seat, Loki at my front. He never broke contact, continuing his warmth, and I snuggled in, relishing the warmth that slowly spread through my body.

  “I hate the bloody cold,” I murmured, taking Thor’s hands. Even with the chains, he managed to make it comfortable for me, his arms over my head and wrapped around me as thoroughly as a blanket.

  “It’s difficult when you’re compromised by it,” Loki replied, glancing up at me. “Did they hurt you?”

  Yes, I thought. They threw buckets of water on me, punched me in my stomach, threatened to do worse. Loki’s eyes fell to the line of blood that was no doubt frozen on my neck, where the knife had pressed in, but when he looked up at me, I said, “I’m fine.”

  He released one knee to touch gingerly at the wound. I flinched at the touch, not realizing how sensitive it would be. The cold must have stolen some of the pain.

  “It’s deep, but not enough to cause trouble,” he murmured. “I can cauterize it, but it will leave a scar.”

  “I’m already damaged goods.” I tilted my head back against Thor, his beard rubbing against my temple. “Do it fast.”

  Loki raised up to meet my eyes. “You have never been damaged goods, Ottilie Kingsford,” he spoke, and then he placed searing hot fingers against my throat.

  I grit my teeth against the scream that threatened to slip out, my fingers gripping Thor’s tightly, the pain so great, it brought tears to my eyes. A few spilled over my lashes, freezing on my face.

  Loki snatched his hand away, his face pained at the pain he had caused me.

  “Don’t,” I rasped, reaching out a hand for his. “It was necessary. Don’t feel guilt.”

  “I still had to hurt you.”

  I dragged him close, awkwardly close with the chains, and pressed his hand to my face, sighing at the warmth that suddenly filled there. “Stop,” I grumbled, still too cold to argue much more.

  We sat that way for long minutes, me cradled in Thor’s lap, his arms around me, with Loki leaning close, his hand on my cheek and my shoulder, until I finally felt able to breathe, until I no longer felt encased in ice.

  I straightened when the rumble started again. This time, there was no pause. It slowly increased from a gentle movement until I could feel the earth buckling beneath me.

  “What is that?” I asked, afraid to know the answer.

  Loki sat back and looked towards the barred window. Even with the rumbling, there didn’t seem to be many people moving in the city, did not seem to be anyone panicking. Could they not feel it?

  The concrete beneath me waved.

  “The great branches of Yggdrasil will shake,” Loki murmured, his voice almost reverent, as if he was repeating some long-forgotten text. “And the realms will split.”

  “What does that mean?” I breathed. It didn’t sound good. It didn’t sound good at all.

  Thor lifted me and stood, moving us over to the window to see. It was narrow, just long enough for us all to peer out, to see what happened as the shaking grew worse. I watched with wide eyes as London seemed to split down the middle with a sound like a bomb, as a large crack shot by, barely missing Buckingham Palace where we were, but running down the street that we could see. Buildings toppled inside, and the screams truly began then, echoing in a wave of horror and agony. The shaking was violent, malicious, and I was forced to hold onto the barred window to keep myself steady as the ground beneath our feet truly flexed like an ocean.

  “The realms will split,” I repeated, curling my fingers tighter around the cold steel, praying that most of the people could get out in time.


  But I was not so optimistic, not when I could see part of the damage, not when the split had to have been massive.

  Loki stared, sadness in his eyes, but it was Thor that took a shaky breath and looked away, unable to stand what it meant.

  Another stage of Ragnarök completed. Time slipping away and we still had not even warned the Queen. We were running out of time.

  “We have to get out of here,” I murmured. “We have to—” do something, I had wanted to say, but what could we do really in this situation. We were trying. We had tried, and it had gotten us thrown in a cell.

  I watched as every man, every guard rushed towards the giant crevice opening through London, their attempt to help those falling inside pointless. If the crack spanned the entire city. . .I could not imagine the loss of life.

  Thor studied the manacles around his wrists, tracing the symbols etched into them.

  “They’re made with Asgardian metals,” Loki murmured, finally turning away from the window. “They say they don’t believe in us, and yet they somehow have our metal.” Thor and Loki locked gazed.

  “Someone has been speaking our secrets,” Thor concluded, staring at the metal. “I can’t break these with brute strength alone.”

  Outside, in the city, a loud, soulful howl echoed along the cobblestones, shaking the walls of our prison.

  “Please don’t tell me that’s the next stage.”

  “No,” Loki admitted, looking towards the window. “It’s Fenrir. He’s coming.”

  I glanced at Thor but when he didn’t answer my unasked question, I directed it to Loki. “Who’s Fenrir?” My voice was hoarse, as if I had been screaming, but I knew I hadn’t. Not out loud. Not yet.