With a queer, shrinking dread, I approached the transparent web. I was about to touch it when Frey hastily drew me back.
"Keep a safe distance," he warned. "The extra-dimensional force web would blast your hand."
Shaken, I stood a few feet from the shimmering curtain, peering into the small cave beyond.
"Loki!" I whispered hoarsely.
He lay upon a skin rug, dimly visible in the light of the radiant door. His arms were outspread, his face upturned. Bright gold was Loki's hair and mustache. slender and gracefully formed was his unmoving body. He wore helmet, brynja and sword like those of the Aesir.
Loki's face was — beautiful! Mere handsomeness could never have struck such awe into me. His eyes were closed, the long, golden lashes slumbering on his white cheeks.
"Most beautiful of all the Aesir was Loki outwardly — a fair shell that hid his black, evilly ambitious soul," Frey said fiercely. "See, Jarl Keith. Beside him lie his monstrous pets, prisoned like himself in suspended animation."
I tore my eyes from the angelic face of Loki. When I looked beyond him, I felt the hair of my neck bristle. Upon the rough rock floor of that little cavern crouched a huge gray wolf. Large as a bear, it held its mighty head between its paws, its lips baring the awful fangs in an eternal snarl. In a complete circle around both Loki and the frightful wolf lay the black, motionless coils of an enormous serpent.
"The wolf Fenris and Iormungandr, the Midgard snake!" hissed Frey, his eyes glittering hate. "The pets that Loki cherished, and that were prisoned here with him by Odin's science."
"Whoever heard of a wolf and serpent as big as that?" I gasped.
"Loki made them grow that large, by some scientific means," Frey muttered. "Another of his evil experiments."
"He must have used some form of glandular control," I said thoughtfully. "Loki certainly must have had plenty of scientific knowledge."
For a few moments, we stared at the three fiends in silence.
"Frey, are they really only in suspended animation?" I whispered. "They seem to be dead."
"They are alive," Frey assured me. "Only the functions of Loki's physical body are suspended. His mind is conscious, even at this moment. Just as a man can be paralyzed and still be fully conscious, so it is with Loki."
"But even if he's conscious, how could he have influenced me from afar to keep the rune key? How could he have raised the storm that blew me here, and given orders to the Jotuns to be waiting for me?"
"In his researches, Loki had developed the power to send telepathic messages," Frey explained tautly. "Do your scientists have that power?"
"They're just beginning to find out about it. They call it extra-sensory perception."
"Loki had developed that power to great lengths," Frey said. "Though his body is prisoned here, his conscious mind can send forth powerful thought messages. Such commands he sent into your mind, Jarl Keith, from here. And such messages he must have sent to the Jotuns, ordering them to operate his strange mechanisms. They can raise tempests such as blew you here."
"And he's been held here for centuries, with his mind awake and conscious!" I muttered in horror, shuddering. "What is that vapor drifting about the chamber?"
"That contains the secret of suspended animation," Frey told me. "Odin devised the vapor, which freezes and halts the chemical activity of the body's cells, at the same time preserving each cell unharmed. The vapor alone holds Loki and his pets frozen. If the radiant door were opened and the vapor escaped, the arch-traitor and his pets would awake—"
"Listen!" I hissed suddenly, clutching Frey's arm.
I had heard a dim murmur of voices, footsteps approaching from the farther end of the gallery.
"The Jotuns come!" breathed Frey.
"Coming to free Loki!" I said. "We've got to hide, and take them by surprise!"
Chapter X
Captive in Jotunheim
I dashed out the torch and flung it away. We were plunged into darkness that was relieved by only the pearly radiance from the shimmering door of Loki's prison. I pulled Frey behind the shelter of one of the fantastic piles of rocks that littered the cavern. We drew our swords and crouched there, waiting.
The voices and footsteps grew louder. Red torchlight began to gleam vaguely into the dark gallery from the crevice at its far end. Then, as the torch-bearers stepped into the cavern, it blazed with flickering crimson light. There were ten people in the Jotun party. Besides eight big, black-bearded Jotun warriors, three of whom bore torches, there were two leaders.
One was a giant Jotun with a wolf-like, savage face and glittering black eyes. His great helmet and armor were studded with gems, his fierce face blazing with excitement. The other was a dark-haired Jotun woman whose sinuous form was clothed in a long, deep-blue gown. Her dark beauty was striking, but there was something unholy in the avid eagerness of her lustrous black eyes.
"Utgar, the Jotun king," whispered Frey. "And Hel, princess of Jotunheim, past accomplice of Loki in his plots against the Aesir and his pupil in dark scientific knowledge."
"Utgar has the rune key," I muttered, gripping my sword-hilt.
I had seen the little gold cylinder shining in the hand of the Jotun king. From Utgar came a bellow of brute triumph, bestial exultation, as his eyes found the shimmering door at the end of the gallery.
"It is the place!" he shouted. "There's the door of our lord's prison."
Hel, the dark Jotun princess, uttered a low laugh.
"Said I not that I could bring you to the place by ways which would avoid the Alfings?" she asked in a throaty, sinisterly rich voice. "For I myself was guided by the thought message of our lord Loki, who instructed us how to get the key from Asgard—"
Her supple figure stiffened, and her narrowed eyes roved around the torch-lit cavern.
"I hear our lord's mind speaking to me now," she murmured. "He warns that there is danger lurking in this place. Enemies have been here and are still here!"
"Frey, we must strike now," I whispered urgently. "Fell the torch-bearers, while I strike down Utgar and grab the key. In the darkness, we may be able to escape."
But as we tensed to spring out on the Jotuns, the princess Hel uttered a sharp cry.
"Our enemies are there!" She pointed straight at the rocks behind which we crouched. "Our lord warns—"
Instantly Frey and I leaped out, with our swords flashing in the torchlight. But the split-second warning of Hel had destroyed our advantage of surprise. Just as swiftly, Utgar and his warriors had ripped out their swords. They met us with raised blades as we charged them.
I leaped toward Utgar and my sword slashed desperately. But with a roar of rage, the Jotun king parried my stroke with his own great blade. Numbing shock deadened my arm as my steel clashed against his. Sparks leaped from the blades. Seeking to beat down his guard with terrific strokes and seize the rune key from his hand, I glimpsed Frey in silent action. He was striking down first one of the three Jotun torch-bearers, then another.
The princess Hel had darted out of the path of combat and stood with a tiny dagger in her hand. Her eyes were blazing with excitement. Skilled as Frey was, and regardless of my furious resolve to rescue Freya, we were beset by greater numbers. They began driving us back.
"It is Frey and the outlander!" Utgar bellowed as he fought off my attack. "Separate them and cut them down!"
"Kill them!" Hel commanded throatily. "They seek to prevent the freeing of our lord!"
With a strength that was born of desperation, I beat down Utgar's sword. My blade whirled up and I yelled hoarsely as I set myself to cleave the neck of the Jotun king.
"Jarl Keith, look out behind!" shouted Frey, though he was hard-pressed by three antagonists.
I heard a sword swish down behind me. I started to spin around, but the blade descended on my helmet with stunning force. My brain rocked, and bursting light blinded me.
I felt myself falling, my sword dropping from my nerveless hand, my vision beginning to darken.
I glimpsed two Jotuns leaping upon Frey's back as he fought. Striking him with daggers, they dragged him down at last, covered with blood.
"Now give me the rune key, Utgar!" I heard Hel cry. "I'll release our lord before other Aesir come to stop us."
"Aye, set Loki free at once!" Utgar bellowed, his brutal, dark face triumphant as he handed her the golden cylinder.
Dimly, while I fought to retain consciousness, I saw Hel glide forward to the shimmering door of Loki's prison, the rune key in her hand. I saw her point the golden cylinder toward the shimmering web. When she pressed the graven runes upon it in a complex combination, the door began to fade!
"Our lord's mind instructed me well how to operate this key that Odin's science devised!" gloated Hel.
The web of force was gone. The projectors which had maintained it had now been turned off by the operation of the rune key. Out of the cave within rushed a cloud of pale-green vapor. Hel recoiled from it. Utgar, too, staggered back, choking and dazed. My consciousness was passing.
Darkly I perceived the prostrate body of Loki stirring. I saw him stumble to his feet. The huge wolf Fenris was rising, opening blazing, feral eyes, snarling a savage roar that reverberated thunderously. And the coils of the giant serpent were sliding slowly in reawakened life.
Loki stepped out of the chamber in which he and his monstrous companions had been imprisoned so long in suspended animation. As he stood, his tall, slender, graceful form seemed to expand. His beautiful white face and gold hair shone in the torchlight.
Blazing like those of Lucifer newly risen from the pit, those dazzling eyes swept over the awed, trembling Jotuns, the prone forms of Frey and myself, the stupefied and dread-shadowed face of Utgar, the unholy eagerness of Hel's dark, beautiful face. Tangible light and force seemed to flame from Loki's blue eyes.
Beside Loki, the wolf Fenris was snarling horribly at us. Its terrible white fangs were bared, its huge head thrust forward with ears flattened. And on the arch-traitor's other side reared up the great spade-shaped head of the Midgard snake. Cold reptilian eyes glittering, the forked red tongue flickered in and out between its scaly jaws.
Darkness was claiming my mind. As though from dim, enormous distances, I heard the jubilant, golden voice of Loki.
"Free at last! Now comes the hour of my vengeance upon the Aesir!"
That voice was the last thing I heard. Even as its accents of superhuman triumph struck my ears, complete unconsciousness claimed me.
A throbbing, blinding pain in my head was my first sensation of returning consciousness. Then I became aware that I lay upon a hard bed of some kind, and that the air was cold and damp. I tried to open my eyes and could not. Summoning strength by a great mental effort, I raised my hand weakly to my head. Instantly I heard a joyful, sweet voice.
"He awakens, Frey!"
That voice, vibrating through the fibers of memory in my dazed brain, compelled me to open my eyes. Freya was bending over me. Her pale, beautiful face was framed by her unbound yellow hair, and it was eager with gladness. Her warm, blue eyes looked fondly down into mine.
She still wore the white linen gown that she had worn at the feast in Valhalla, before her abduction. And I saw, too, that Frey, pale, and bandaged around his neck and shoulder, had stumbled over to look down at me.
"Freya!" My voice was only a weak whisper.
Tears were in her lovely eyes as she put her face against mine, her cool cheek against my lips.
"Jarl Keith!" she whispered. "I feared you were dying. It has been hours that you have slept like the dead."
Weakly I put my arms around her slim shoulders and held her close to me. The bright gold of her hair on my face seemed at that moment to hold all of the sweetness in the world.
Then I looked beyond her: Frey's pale, haunted face and terrible remembrance rushed through my stunned mind. Loki and Fenris wolf and the great serpent emerging from their prison!
"Loki!" I gasped. "I saw him come forth—"
"Yes, Jarl Keith," said Frey. "That which we Aesir have feared for centuries has happened. The arch-devil has been released."
The blood seemed to leave my head as realization crashed home. The ancient rhyme on the rune key seemed to echo mockingly in my ears.
Bring me not home,
Lest Ragnarok come.
It had happened. I had brought the fateful rune key home. And now Loki and his monsters were free to lead the Jotun hosts in the last and most terrible attack against Asgard. I groaned at the thought of my own guilt, for it was all my responsibility. It was I, inspired by what spells of Loki I could not imagine, who had caused the rune key to be found. I had brought it into this hidden land to loose an incredibly evil menace that had lain dormant for centuries — yet conscious to add new torments and more vicious horrors to the old ones.
Freya had raised her face. She was looking at me with blue eyes that were bright with dread, her red lips quivering.
"But where are we?" I cried, trying to sit up. "How is it you're with us, Freya?"
"We are in Jotunheim, Jarl Keith," she whispered. "I have been held here since the Jotun raiders brought me here and took the rune key away. And you and Frey were brought here and prisoned with me but a few hours ago. You were unconscious — dying, I feared."
Her slim arm supported me as I sat up. Dazedly I stared around. We occupied a small stone cell, with walls that were of massive, damp blocks. The heavy wooden door was solidly closed. One tiny, barred window admitted pale daylight and barely enough air. Frey and Freya helped me as I rose to my feet from the rude hide couch where I had lain. I stumbled with their support to the window, and looked out at ancient Jotunheim.
Jotunheim crouched like a great, slumbering reptile on a low plateau above steaming marshes. A sluggish, black river wound from the rugged hills behind the city. Down past the stone walls, it oozed through the dank, brooding marshes to the distant sea.
It was a city of squat, massive castles and forts, built with antediluvian rudeness. The giant stone blocks were overgrown with green, hideous moss. Our cell was in the basement level of the most enormous of the castles, a high, oblong structure.
Even in daylight, the city was filled by chill, foggy mists from the streaming morasses below. From our window I could see scores of longships moored in the river which wound past Jotunheim's northern wall. Hosts of Jotuns were busy on ships and shore. Warriors and thralls were carrying stacks of weapons, fitting new oars and masts, all in a bustle of hurried activity. Through the ancient, somber city trotted squads of hastening warriors, hurrying men and women. Everyone was feverishly engaged in mysterious preparations.
"Captives in Jotunheim," I moaned. "And Loki—"
"He is here, too," Frey said unhappily. "In this palace, which belongs to Utgar, he directs the preparations you see. Those are the preparations for the last great attack on Asgard."
Freya, holding my arm, looked up at me with blue eyes that were almost black with dread.
"The Jotuns went mad when Loki arrived with Utgar, Hel, you and Frey," she said. "They cry that now at last shall they wipe the Aesir from existence."
"Ragnarok, the final struggle, draws near," Frey declared solemnly. "Aye, this is the struggle that we Aesir knew must come if ever Loki were freed."
"But Odin and the Aesir will not yield!" I cried. "They will throw back Loki and the Jotuns!"
"I pray the fates that it be so," Frey said. "But the Jotuns outnumber us how more greatly than before. With Loki and his evil science, Fenris and Iormungandr fighting on their side, we have reason to fear for Asgard. But if perish we must, the Jotuns and Loki shall perish with us. That I know."
"Can't we sneak out of here and get back to Asgard?" I asked urgently.
His haggard face twisted into a hopeless smile.
"How could we even escape this cell? And if we did, the whole city is swarming with armed warriors making ready. Never could we win past all the soldiers of Jotunheim to freedom."
"What will they do wi
th us?" I pressed. "Why do they hold us instead of killing us?"
"I don't know," he muttered. "Be sure that Loki has some evil scheme in mind that will make use of us."
He staggered, and I hastened to help him to the hide couch, where he sat down weakly.
Frey's wounds in that battle in the cave had been serious ones. He had lost most of his unaging strength.
My own strength was rapidly returning. I had paced back and forth from door to window of the cell, racking my brain for some means of escape. There was none. Finally I gave it up and sat dully down beside Freya.
Hours must have passed as we sat in a heavy, hopeless silence. The Sun was setting through the slowly thickening mists of Jotunheim, casting a pale beam onto the stone floor. There was a rattle at the lock of our door. It opened, and a big, fierce-eyed Jotun captain stood glaring at us. Behind him were a dozen guards.
"You, outlander," said the captain to me. "Come with us. Our lord Loki would speak to you."
'What does Loki want with me?" I demanded, rising painfully to my feet.
"Is it for me or for you, outland dog, to question the reasons of our lord?" roared the captain. "Come, or be dragged!"
I pressed Freya's hand and went with the guards. In a gloomy, stone corridor, they bared their swords to cut me down if I attempted escape or resistance. The door of the cell was barred again, and two of the Jotuns took their places outside it. The others marched me away.
The dank chill of the passage struck me to the marrow. But I felt a greater chill of dread at this summons from Loki. I was going to face the arch-traitor who had waked for his final most vicious revenge…
Chapter XI
The Arch-fiend
We passed through gloomy corridors and chambers of age-old stone, crusted with evil-looking white fungi and lichens, dripping with condensed vapor. Rats squeaked across our path unheeded. Up broad stairs of troglodytic hugeness, we climbed into the upper levels of the massive palace. Everywhere we met soldiers and thralls hurrying to and fro, carrying piles of spears and arrows, stacks of shields, and other war supplies.
A Yank at Valhalla Page 7
