Bloodsong Hel X 3

by C. Dean Andersson

  Bloodsong had nearly finished transforming into her beastform when Huld emerged gasping and wheezing from the cloud with Guthrun.

  With his restrengthened powers, Lokith sensed Huld’s momentary preoccupation with Guthrun. If he could strike the Freya-Witch with a strong energy bolt while her attention was diverted, he felt certain that it would mean her death.

  “Hel is waiting for your soul, Freya-slut,” he whispered to himself with a grin, “and for yours, Mother. As soon as your Witch-protectress is dead, you and the Berserker will be easily slain, and my sister mine for the taking.”

  He allowed himself a moment more to glory in his coming victory, then quickly concentrated upon charging a Hel-fire spell with enough of his new Hel-given energy to be lethal, even over the distance still separating him from his targets.

  Huld was still bent with concern over Guthrun when the air crackled with purple Hel-fire. She tore her thoughts away from Guthrun only a moment before Lokith’s Hel-fire spell slammed into her flesh.

  The Freya-Witch screamed as pain seared her nerves and the force of the hissing fire-beam threw her back onto the snow, a deep wound charred between her breasts. She writhed in agony, fought to remain conscious, sensed Hel’s icy embrace waiting within the approaching darkness to close upon her soul, and struggled desperately to keep the relentless power at bay. A moment later she lay unmoving upon the snow, only barely breathing, fighting a rising terror as she realized that Hel was winning the fight. And then the darkness closed tightly about her and Huld stopped breathing.

  Nearing the end of her transformation to beastform, Bloodsong was aware of what had happened to Huld and understood the danger to herself and the others but could do nothing about it until her beastform was complete.

  Ulfhild finished her transformation and saw that Bloodsong had not. Suddenly, from out of the distance across the flat ice plain, Ulfhild saw Lokith hurl another beam of Hel-fire. The Berserker hurled herself toward Bloodsong, hoping to knock her friend out of the new fire-beam’s path.

  The fire-beam struck Ulfhild in the side and burned deeply. With a howl of agony, she fell to the snow atop Bloodsong and lay spasming helplessly.

  Lokith cursed. He had meant the fire-beam to strike Bloodsong before her transformation was completed and had therefore hurried the spell, putting. only enough energy into it to kill a partially transformed shape-shifter. He doubted that it would kill the fully transformed Berserker, even if it did render her helpless for a short time.

  Bloodsong’s transformation completed. Howling with rage, she wriggled out from beneath Ulfhild and raced off across the snow in a desperate run for the Lair, trying not to think about her unconscious daughter, nor about her fallen friends, but only about reaching the Lair in time.

  The air crackled again and then again, but Bloodsong’s beast-senses and reflexes saved her as she ran a zigzag path across the snow.

  Another fire-beam struck, but she kept running and dodging, letting the beast within her have full control. Then suddenly she was there. The beast was certain of it, though Bloodsong saw nothing but more of the flat, snow-covered plain.

  The beast howled with triumph and began tearing at the snow and ice with razor claws, trying desperately to reach an opening it sensed was just beneath the surface, determined to gain entrance before Lokith and his warriors arrived.

  Lokith reached the two Witches and the Berserker but raced on by, resisting his desire to stop and bend to his sister’s throat. Bloodsong had to be stopped first. Hel would not give him another chance to redeem himself.

  Bloodsong could now see the opening beneath the ice, an oval shape that, to her surprise, was not dark but instead glowed with a steady cold blue light. Her beast-claws tore furiously at the frozen surface, shredding away the ice, getting ever closer to the opening to the Lair. But Lokith’s men were nearly upon her now. In just a few more heartbeats she would have to turn and fight, the Lair unreached, the lost ones of her people from Time’s Dawning unawakened.

  No! she screamed with her thoughts, her bestial fury drawing upon deep reserves of beast-strength and rage.

  Another fire-beam struck so closely that she smelled singed fur, then the warriors reached her and she heard Lokith laugh just as her claws broke through into open space.

  Bloodsong lunged forward through the glowing blue opening just as a beam of Hel-fire struck the snow where she had been.

  She found herself sliding down an ice tunnel. It leveled out almost at once, and she slid out of it and into a low-ceilinged cavern whose glowing ice walls cast a ghostly blue light upon dozens of black-furred Corpse Beasts sprawled unmoving on the floor.

  “Death Riders!” Lokith shouted as he reined to a halt near the opening in the ice. “Follow and slay her!”

  Within the ice cavern, Bloodsong heard the order. She growled with frustration. From the Runes within Frigga’s Crag she knew what she had to do to awaken the beasts, but now there wasn’t time to do it.

  The Death Riders leapt from their horses and, with drawn swords, flitted like black shadows across the snow toward the opening. But when they tried to go through, a blaze of blue fire arced across the opening and drove them back. They tried again, and again blue fire barred their way.

  Bloodsong could not see what had happened at the opening, but she saw the flashes of searing blue light and hoped that it meant she was going to have the time she needed.

  “Stand away!” Lokith shouted at the Death Riders, and aimed a beam of Hel-fire at the opening. The fire-beam penetrated the Lair’s entrance for just an instant, then the blue fire flared again and reflected it back.

  Bloodsong rushed to the nearest Corpse Beast, placed her claws upon his chest, and leaned over his furred and skullish face, then touched her lips to his.

  She quickly bit into her own tongue, making the blood flow, then bit into the beast’s lips and sucked his thick, chilled beast-blood into her mouth.

  Their blood touched and mingled. His blood spoke to hers, communicating wordlessly, the essence of his life carried within his ancient blood speaking to the essence of her ancient ancestor’s memories within her own. Into her mind came his name.

  Arise, Fleshripper, she said with her thoughts, still holding her lips to his in the blood-kiss. By Odin’s will and Bloodsong’s blood, awaken!

  The beast began to stir. She hurried on the next.

  Lokith cursed when his fire-beam was reflected back from the opening. He forced down his fear that he still might fail and made a decision. Even if he couldn’t get through the opening, he could use his sorcery to collapse the cavern, burying Bloodsong and the Corpse Beasts within.

  Arise, Woundeater, Bloodsong commanded a second beast as she held another blood-kiss. By Odin’s will and Bloodsong’s blood, awaken!

  The second beast stirred. The first was now struggling to get to his feet.

  Bloodsong heard Lokith start chanting Hel-Runes outside the cavern. She hurried to the side of another Corpse Beast and began a third blood-kiss, then when that beast stirred, she rushed on to awaken a fourth.

  Lokith’s incantation reached its climax. The ice and snow above the cavern trembled, shook, began to crack.

  The cavern floor lurched beneath Bloodsong. She broke off in the middle of the fourth blood-kiss and looked up at the cracks that were appearing in the cavern’s ceiling. She saw the first two Corpse Beasts were now on their feet.

  Fleshripper! Woundeater! she shouted with her thoughts, Go outside! Do what you can!

  The two groggy Corpse Beasts obeyed.

  As he tried to maintain his concentration on his spell, Lokith saw the two monstrous black beasts emerge from the opening. The Hel-horses upon which he and the Hel-warriors were still mounted bolted and reared in fear, but the two Death Riders near the entrance attacked. With frightening ease, the howling, slavering beasts tore out the corpse-warrior’s throats and cha
rged toward Lokith.

  He dropped the spell to collapse the cavern and quickly protected himself behind a curtain of purple Hel-fire. The Corpse Beasts tried to cross the magical barrier but could not. Lokith hurriedly extended the barrier so that it formed a closed circle around him and his Hel-horse.

  “Attack!” he shouted to his Hel-warriors, but after seeing how easily the beasts had killed the Death Riders, none moved to obey. Instead. first one and then another jerked their Hel-horses around and raced away until all were in retreat.

  The Corpse Beasts ignored the fleeing riders and tried again and again to get through Lokith’s barrier but without success.

  Two beams of Hel-fire shot from Lokith’s hands. Each Corpse Beast cried out in pain as the fire-beam struck and hurled them back onto the snow. But then, fur singed and smoking, they got back to their feet and attacked the magical barrier once more.

  Lokith stared in stunned surprise. The beasts should have died from the Hel-fire beams at such close range, unless his sorcery had grown weaker than he had thought, and with that thought came the first frightening hints that his weakness was indeed returning. Before long, his energy would be too low even to maintain the shield of Hel-fire around him.

  Guthrun! he thought in desperation. I must get to her and renew my strength before it’s too late. It’s my only hope now of stopping Bloodsong and saving myself.

  Keeping the circle of Hel-fire around him and his mount, he turned his Hel-horse and kicked it into a gallop back across the snow toward where the Witches and Berserker still lay.

  The two Corpse Beasts followed, still trying to get through the barrier of fire.

  A third beast emerged from the opening but found no one there to attack. She saw Fleshripper and Woundeater chasing a mounted man across the snow.

  The battle is over, Bloodsong! Veinslicer called out with her thoughts. Fleshripper and Woundeater are chasing away a man on a horse, but he’s protected by purple flames. I will go help them with their kill!

  Inside the cavern, Bloodsong heard Veinslicer’s words within her mind.

  Veinslicer! she shouted mentally, interrupting another blood-kiss. Is the man moving toward three who lay on the snow?

  Yes.

  Fleshripper! Woundeater! Bloodsong called. Protect the three who lay on the snow!

  The two humans and the wolf? Woundeater asked, confused.

  Protect them! Bloodsong repeated.

  We will obey, Fleshripper promised.

  The two Corpse Beasts that had been pacing Lokith suddenly sprinted ahead and stopped near Guthrun, Huld, and Ulfhild. They turned with fangs bared to face Lokith.

  Lokith cursed as he reined up nearby. He sent two desperate fire-beams hurtling into the Corpse Beasts, but the dimly burning Hel-fire did even less damage than before. His weakness was growing rapidly worse, the temporary strength Hel had given him nearly depleted. And then, to his horror, the fire-curtain that protected him from the beasts began to fade.

  Panic washed through him.

  The fire curtain around him is fading! Veinslicer called out as she joined Fleshripper and Woundeater. Soon now we will have our kill!

  I claim the kill for myself, Bloodsong told them. His death is mine by right of vengeance. Don’t let him get away. Hold him there for me.

  The wolf is alive and trying to stand, Veinslicer reported, but one of the human females is dead.

  Bloodsong’s heart raced. What color, she hesitantly asked, fearing the answer, is the dead one’s hair?

  There was a long pause, then Veinslicer answered, The color of the sun.

  Even as Bloodsong felt relief that Guthrun still lived, grief over Huld’s death tore deep into her soul. Guard the captive well, she finally ordered, hatred boiling in her heart, remembering Grimnir’s death. And now Lokith’s evil had claimed Huld’s life as well.

  He shall not escape, Veinslicer assured her.

  Bloodsong forced down her grief and rage, returned her concentration to the task at hand, and continued awakening beasts.

  THE LAST corpse beast in the cavern opened her eyes and struggled to her feet.

  She looked at Bloodsong, who had remained in her beastform and stood impatiently waiting nearby.

  Bloodsong? Razorclaw asked. You are Bloodsong? You don’t look the same. Your fur is not as long, and your—

  Follow me! Bloodsong cut her off.

  Bloodsong led Razorclaw from the cavern and raced across the snow toward where the other awakened beasts had gathered around Lokith. She knew from their thoughts that when he’d tried to use his wind-treading Hel-horse to rise above them and get away, Fleshripper and Woundeater had leapt up, broken through his fading fire-curtain, and pulled the Hel-horse down. Then they had slain the Hel-horse and surrounded Lokith. Row upon row of black-furred forms now kept him a prisoner for Bloodsong, while nearby others protected Guthrun and Ulfhild.

  Bloodsong saw that Ulfhild, fangs bared, was on her feet near Guthrun, as if to protect her from the surrounding mass of beasts. Deep affection for the Berserker flooded Bloodsong’s heart.

  The dark-haired one is awakening, Fleshripper told her as she reached them. We cannot communicate with the wolf. She refuses to hear our thoughts.

  As Bloodsong neared Guthrun, she caught Ulfhild’s gaze.

  The Berserker recognized her and visibly relaxed. Bloodsong saw that the circle of raw, burned flesh in Ulfhild’s side, while healing as quickly as all non-fatal wounds suffered by Berserkers in beastform, was still oozing blood.

  Bloodsong glanced at the Freya-Witch’s body and remembered the first time they’d met years before. With a low growl of hurt she turned her attention to her daughter.

  Guthrun’s eyes fluttered open. Her gaze focused first on Bloodsong’s beastform, then she glanced at the other beasts. “You did it, Mother!” she said excitedly as she sat up. “You found and awakened them!” Then she saw Huld. “Goddess, no,” she moaned and went to kneel by Huld’s side, tears stinging her eyes.

  Bloodsong watched, puzzled. Guthrun seemed strong and alert, as if no longer troubled by the pull of darkness within her.

  “Lokith?” Guthrun asked, looking up at Bloodsong and Ulfhild. “Lokith did this to her?”

  Open a path to the captive, Bloodsong ordered the beasts with her thoughts.

  The assembled Corpse Beasts stepped back as Bloodsong padded through them toward Lokith, Ulfhild and Guthrun following in her wake.

  The last Corpse Beast stepped aside, revealing Lokith standing with his sword gripped in a trembling fist, his face pale and fear-lined, shoulders slumping with weakness, eyes staring with terror at the surrounding beasts.

  Guthrun drew her sword. “Let me fight him, Mother,” she said. “Let it be my blade that kills him. I owe him much from what he did to me in Thokk’s castle, and l owe him much for Grimnir, and Huld.”

  Bloodsong blocked Guthrun’s way and held her gaze for a moment until Guthrun nodded her understanding. “I will wait,” she promised, looking back at Lokith.

  “I will take you with me in death, dear Sister,” Lokith vowed, his voice shaky.

  Guthrun laughed contemptuously in reply.

  Bloodsong turned to face the beasts. There was something else she had to do for them. They had to be told what had happened to them and what was going to happen next. She caught Veinslicer’s gaze, Fleshripper’s, Razorclaw’s, and the gazes of others, then began to speak with her thoughts.

  The battle you remember is long over, she told them, and yet not, for though Hel was vanquished in the battle you fought, she now marches against us once more.

  A low murmur arose from the assembled beasts.

  Listen as I explain, Bloodsong urged. You were caught between blasts of Hel-magic and Freya-Magic during the battle and sent into a sleep from which I have now awakened you. But Razorclaw says I do not look like the
Bloodsong she remembers, and that is because I am not the Bloodsong she remembers.

  The sounds of the beasts grew louder.

  Many ages have passed since the battle you remember, she continued, and many generations of descendants have been born to the Corpse Beasts who fought beside you in that first great struggle against Hel. The Bloodsong who led you in that battle, she behind whom you cried ‘Bloodsong and freedom’ as you rebelled against Hel, is long dead. But I am descended from the Bloodsong you knew! I could awaken you from your long sleep, because her blood flows in my veins!

  I, too, am called Bloodsong. When the time came for me to take a battle-name, I chose Bloodsong, not knowing that it was a name whose memory had been waiting in my blood to be reborn. And I, too, have led a rebellion of slaves who cried ‘Bloodsong and freedom’ as they broke their master’s chains. But I am not the only one to have taken the battle-name of the first Bloodsong.

  I have read the Runes of our people in the womb of Frigga’s Crag. Again and again throughout the ages, warriors descended from the Bloodsong you knew have unknowingly taken her proud name for their own. These things, however, are as nothing compared to that which you will now learn.

  Recall the promise Odin made to you before the battle with Hel began. He promised that Corpse Beasts who died in the battle would have places in Valhalla, but that those who survived would be given a new power and name. You were to be known as Corpse Beasts no more but as Werebeasts, who possessed the power to take human form at will.

  After the battle, unknown to you, Odin also promised that you who had been caught in an ensorcelled sleep would be awakened, but only by one with your leader’s blood in her veins, and only when the Earth was again threatened by Hel.

  All of Odin’s promises have been kept. I who am your leader’s descendant have awakened you, and now behold the fulfillment of Odin’s other promise. Behold the power of a Werebeast! Bloodsong shouted with her thoughts, then began to transform herself into her human form.

  The beasts drew back from her as she became less and less like them, until finally, when she stood before them as a human, they began to growl with uncertainty.