“Yes, but—”
Trav held up a finger. “But you are still Kin. If you are starved, your mystical life force begins to wane along with your body, and you lose your reason. And you are a harpy, so you will attempt to steal the life force of a male through sex before killing and eating them. It’s instinct.”
“Be that as—” The harpy gave a calculating look. “Who are you? How can you do this?” She nodded at the moss restraints and the glyphs on the floor.
“You first. What is your name.”
“So you are not with those darkness feeders?” She spat the words. Trav didn’t know what it meant but figured she was referring to the warlock.
“No. I didn’t know this village existed until earlier today.” He let his eyes narrow and gestured with the shiv. “Name?”
“Yaakova.”
“I’m Trav. So how did you get captured, Yaakova?” He paused. “I am assuming you are captured and are going to be used as a Kin sacrifice, but how did they even get you in the first place?”
The Kin woman eyed Trav warily for a moment but then looked at her restraints again and sighed. “I got careless.”
“Explain.”
Yaakova gestured at the glyphs on the floor with her chin. “You are obviously not a normal human, and can sense magic, so you probably felt the draw of this place, yes?”
Trav masked his expression and decided to give away as little as possible. “Explain it to me.”
“Oh, Dead Masters, are you really playing games with me when we are both prisoners and I am in this state?” Suddenly, the harpy’s eyes flashed, her expression turning bestial, and she lunged at Trav again. She struggled for a while but the restraints held, and she finally collapsed backward, panting. Her eyes cleared after a short struggle, but she didn’t seem particularly sorry for losing control again. She stared at Trav in challenge.
“Fine. Yes, I felt something here. It’s why I came.” Trav didn’t mention the divine nature of what had drawn him before. In fact, without the strange pull, he would have only otherwise felt the magic if he were nearly on top of the mine. The harpy woman must be more sensitive to magic than he was.
Yaakova nodded. “Among my tribal unit, I am a scholar of the old ways, ancestral spells mostly lost through time. I also study rune magic, though I am not as advanced as you are. In fact, I have never seen any rune crafter who could do what you just did. I would suspect you were a full rune lord, but they don’t exist, and you are human—” Her voice trailed off before she started speaking again. “I came here seeking power or fortune, and I was not careful enough. I failed to notice a trap before it was too late, and now I am imprisoned, waiting to die. Simple.”
Trav could relate to that. He blinked slowly as he thought about what to do. As he pondered, the harpy squirmed a bit, and the motion put her nudity and helplessness on full display. Trav might have been distracted if she hadn’t been trying to have her way with him earlier before probably killing and eating him. She was a monster, and part of him still wanted to just kill her now and get it over with. She must have sensed what he was thinking, because she asked, “Why am I still alive? You are not a normal human, not at all.”
“That is a good question,” muttered Trav. “Can you see or sense the barrier around this room?”
“Yes, of course. I could not exactly leave before, after all.”
“You know it is very strong?”
“Yes.” The harpy woman answered slowly like it took effort to speak in a civil manner. Maybe it did.
Trav glanced around again, taking in the walls of his prison. Unwilling to completely give up the thought, he pondered killing Yaakova, letting righteous fury run through him one last time. Even beyond the fact that she was a violent monster, she’d made him feel weak again, even after taking his first step towards...whatever he was becoming. He’d just feared for his life, only moments ago, and had been attacked in a way that might have upset him more before he’d come to Asgard. His heart was growing hard as stone, and he wasn’t sure he really liked it.
Yes, part of him wanted to kill her, to punish her, but he also needed her. “I can’t get through these barriers on my own. I need more energy. That’s where you come in.”
When Yaakova stayed silent, Trav continued, “I can break the magic containment field.”
“That’s impossible! I can’t even come within a finger-length of the door!”
“No, it’s possible, it will just take a lot of power.” Trav sighed and hefted the shiv in his hand.
“Are you going to kill me after all?” The Kin didn’t seem scared, just disappointed.
“No. I’m going to mark you and make you my vassal.”
Trav doubted there were many things he could have said that would have surprised the harpy woman any more than he just had. She cocked her head at him, a look of naked curiosity on her face. “Are you mad?”
“No. I’m desperate and don’t have a lot of options.” Trav gritted his teeth. He really didn’t want to bond Yaakova, this...harpy. He was still coming to understand the ins and outs of his new, divine mantle, but he knew there were a limited number of times he could place his mark to create a vassal. This actual number was still unclear, but wasting any of them on a harpy who’d just tried to rage-mate with him before eating his face rubbed him the wrong way.
He moved closer to the Kin woman, examining her. Despite his strength, regardless of all the scraps he’d been in during his life and the small bit of martial knowledge he’d gotten from Odin’s memories, even training he’d received from his cousin Ash, the harpy had beat him. When he came to a stop, the winged monster smiled, flashing her pointed teeth like she’d been thinking about the same thing. “I am going to mark you now,” said Trav.
“So you lied, then. I see. Sacrifice. You are just a human after all.”
In the past, in another lifetime, Trav might not have known how to deal with a psychotic monster woman with the strength of several men and claws long enough to take his head off. But things were different now. He stepped forward and punched her in the jaw with most of his strength. Her head snapped back and after a second to shake off her surprise, she lunged forward, snapping her teeth. Trav dodged, cocking his hand back again. Yaakova’s eyes narrowed, and she slowly relaxed.
Trav shook his head. “That could have been my blade. Now shut up and listen. I don’t like this situation either, but we both need each other. After I do what I’m about to do, you will not be starving anymore; your magic will be restored. You will have more power than you had before, and I will have the power to get us out of here.”
“Lies. I have never heard of such a thing.”
“Maybe. But look into my eyes.”
The harpy laughed. “You must think I am truly gullible. Look into a ‘crafter’s eyes?”
Trav firmed his lips. “If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead, Kin.”
“There is that.” She seemed to think for a while before announcing, “Fine.”
As Yaakova met Trav’s eyes, he willed his mantle to the surface, hoping that it wouldn’t buzz too much, creating too many waves through the ether, but then realized it didn’t matter. He was intending to shake things up, after all. He didn’t have much of a choice.
The Kin woman suddenly recoiled and gasped. “What are you?”
Trav answered honestly. “The hope of a dead god. Something new.”
“What are you planning to do?”
With a mental sigh, Trav relaxed. Now the harpy was listening—he had her full attention. “I need to place a mark on you. This will connect us. If I do this, I will receive power from you, but not much. I need to create this connection in order to permanently mark you as my servant. If I do that, it will permanently increase both our power.”
The process would need to be different with Yaakova than it had been with Narnaste. After he’d met the wolf woman, and after he’d placed the rune equation of binding on her, they’d worked together, bonded, and he’d save
d her life. She’d unwittingly sealed the bond herself, at least the first half of it.
But he had no such relationship with the dangerous, feathered Kin bound to the stony floor. No amount of sex with this monster would be enough to get the power he would need. His only choice would be to fully commit, create another divine vassal.
He hated it.
Yaakova blinked her inhuman eyes. “What you are claiming...It can’t be.”
“Well, it is, because I already have one Valkyrie running around, and I am beginning to seriously wish I had taken her with me.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” The harpy still had heat in her voice, but something had changed in her expression. A bit of respect moved across her face and some fear. Trav had a hard time telling due to the moss holding her, but it almost looked like she was trying to inch away.
“I am telling you for a simple reason.” Now was time to get creative with the truth. Ever since Trav had met Narnaste, he’d decided to avoid lying whenever possible while dealing with Kin, just in case. He would always try to be honest. “If you enter into this pact willingly, the magic will be stronger, and so will the benefit to both of us.”
“I see.” Yaakova seemed to sag in her restraints. “This is—I am having trouble thinking, and this is not exactly something easily understood.”
“Okay. I will draw the rune equation on you now, then. This will bind us together but is not the final step. I will get some energy from this, but not enough to break the barrier. But you will receive clarity, won’t be starving anymore, so you’ll be able to think better.”
“Do as you will.”
Trav moved forward with his shiv raised. The weapon seemed almost eager to carve flesh again, and the man from Oregon tried to pretend he was imagining things.
***
About ten minutes later, Trav stood tapping his foot. The binding rune equation had been successfully created without a hitch. Since he’d still been wary of the Kin woman, Trav had carved the lines and whorls into her back—in case she’d been able to break free of her imprisoning moss. He was beginning to worry that the human freaks in the tunnels might return before he could escape.
The Kin woman needed to make a choice now.
After marking the harpy’s back, he’d explained what he planned to do to her in as much detail as possible, and Yaakova had seemed to take it with an air of fatality. She never apologized for what she tried to do to Trav, nor did she beg for her life or ask Trav to reconsider. On Asgard, power seemed to be everything, and the Kin didn’t often ask for mercy—nor give any.
Trav made a face and frowned at the door. If a guard were outside, they still, hopefully, probably, hadn’t heard anything. He believed the magic barrier probably blocked most sound, but the fact that he’d heard the warlock and his minions leaving was worrisome. He hoped it had just taken a while for the magic to completely take effect once they'd thrown the lock.
Finally, Yaakova stirred. “I have decided that I will do this.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Everything you have told me is ludicrous and unbelievable, but I don’t have any way to disprove your words. You have demonstrated things I cannot explain, and nothing I know about magic, nor the Dead Masters, contradicts anything you’ve told me. Further, you are going to do what you want to me anyway. I should accept it to obtain the most benefit I can.”
Trav just nodded. He was impressed with her reasoning but didn’t say anything in return. If things had gone differently earlier, she might be snacking on his arm like a chicken wing right now. After stepping forward dispassionately, he held up his ring and asked, “Where would you like the mark? Any preference?”
“No.”
“So be it.” Trav moved behind the bound Kin again and focused on a portion of her lower back above her bare ass. Now that some time had passed since he’d fought for his life, he could admit that Yaakova had a very, very shapely ass.
Too bad it was attached to a crazy, clawed monster.
Trav warned, “Get ready. The last time I did this, the other person was unconscious, but it hurt me—a lot.”
“Get on with it!” Yaakova snarled.
“Fine.” He touched his ring to Yaakova’s lower back and reached out to the strange well of power that still felt attached to him by little more than a string—Odin’s mantle. Trav gritted his teeth and began channeling the essence of his purview through his body, through his ring, and into the harpy.
He wasn’t sure who screamed first, him or his would-be murderer.
Chapter 18
This time, the pain hadn’t been as great as the first time he’d bonded a vassal, mainly because he’d had more magic power to act as a buffer. As a result, Trav didn’t—quite—lose consciousness.
He gasped, holding his chest, and curled up into a ball on the ground. In the clarity of blinding agony, he realized that this time, the divine broadcast of what he’d done would probably be fairly well blocked by being so far underground, but the warlock would have to be magically blind not to have felt something. There was no time to waste.
After painfully forcing his eyes open, Trav held in a startled oath and merely blinked instead. Yaakova’s inhuman face was less than a foot away from his own, eyes dilated. The Kin’s expression was strange. She breathed deeply, so hard it ruffled Trav’s hair before standing to her full height. The moss restraints had been torn apart, and something had changed about the harpy woman, both physically and magically, but Trav couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“I am not sure I could even attack you if I wanted right now,” she said absently, seemingly talking to herself. “It is a strange feeling. Actually, I think I could, but like biting my own arm, it would feel unnatural. But—” She held up a hand in wonder and focused on Trav again. “New power...you were not lying, Awakened One.”
Trav worked on getting his breathing back under control and eyed her out the corner of his eye. He could feel his own strength growing too, but it would take some time before fully settling. The new increase in power would also need to finalize before he could choose any more permanent increases to his abilities or his body. If he never used another rune equation to modify himself, he’d just have more raw magic power to call on.
Trav’s raw magic was currently expanding, but Yaakova would be growing in overall power. She was already physically stronger—the shredded moss was evidence of that.
The mark and the bond he’d placed on the Kin was obviously holding her at bay to some degree, but Trav needed to establish his leadership position. Escaping would be good too. He ordered, “Stand back; I’m going to break the magic barrier. We need to be quick. Someone must have felt what I just did.”
Yaakova nodded and walked to the rear of the room, her movements a bit jerky, predatory. “I will take my clothes and get dressed then.”
Trav nodded at the harpy’s words but otherwise ignored her, trying not to show any weakness or hesitation. He focused on his task and opened his emberstone eye wide, cycling through the different ways he could see through it.
The prison had been constructed well and had been created with several layers of rune equations that could be easily activated by someone on the outside. Earlier, Trav had suspected that the system was old, and now he confirmed it. A normal rune mage would probably not be able to break a prison like this regardless of how much magic they could channel, but Trav was hardly normal.
He still had limits, though. His power would slowly grow for a while now, but he’d already gotten most of his increase in magical energy in one surge. Interesting. He’d received more from Yaakova than he had from Narnaste.
Trav began wrapping his head around the new energy he’d gotten, the raw power that could be used for magic and to upgrade his strength. After some thought, he decided to think of it in terms of bars or points. He pictured a spreadsheet in his head with boxes representing his power, stretched in a line.
After reviewing his knowledge of permanent rune equations
, he had a good grasp of the minimum amount of power necessary for a personal upgrade and decided that this value would be one bar or point. With that in mind, he’d counted a total of three bars of power from Narnaste, and he had spent two of them on his first, general, permanent upgrade, leaving one bar in reserve.
Bonding with Yaakova had just given him four bars of magical power, so he currently had almost five bars available. Unfortunately, removing the powerful magic around his prison cell would require three bars. Wow. He’d need to succeed the first time. If his attempt fizzled, he’d only have two bars left for the day, and wouldn’t have enough energy to try escaping again.
Trav slowly knelt and carefully began scribing rune equations directly into the stone. Faint light made each line glow. Linking the complex rune equations, he created joining systems with a series of glyphs supported by sigils. In the center of the complex rune working, he even used smaller rune equations as a more complex join, just to make sure everything would work correctly. Each rune equation was designed to fire off in sequence, like a firework with stages. If he was right, the large, intricate magical working should destroy the magic barriers.
Once he was finally done, Trav thought, Wow. This really is going to take three bars. I’m glad the harpy decided to cooperate. Then he cleared his mind, picturing what he wanted his power to do. That done, he took a deep breath to steady himself, gathered his magic, and shoved raw energy into the large rune working.
Points on each rune equation began to glow, getting brighter as the magic swirled and magnified itself. “What is happening?” asked Yaakova, her voice mostly steady. “What are you doing?”
Trav smiled grimly. “The barriers were made too well to break out of normally. So instead of attacking the lock, or even the rune working, I’m convincing it to destroy itself.”
Asgard Awakening Page 14
