Death's Mantle: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 1)

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Malcom exclaimed, the shock of it threatening to overwhelm him. “How could I wield Thor’s hammer?” Malcom shook his head, sure the old man was playing him for a fool, even as he bent down and lifted the hammer. His heart hammered in his chest as he turned the throbbing emerald weapon over in his hands.

  “I am not kidding you or playing a joke.” Sabastin sighed and shook his head, and for some reason, the old man didn’t seem quite as excited as he should have. “Be careful. It is said that when the legendary dwarven craftsmen Sindri and Brokkr presented the hammer to Thor they told him it ‘would destroy whatever was before him.’ Its power is not to be underestimated.”

  Malcom shook his head in disbelief. This was Thor’s freaking Hammer after all. “Guess that makes me worthy.”

  “Of dying maybe.” Sabastin swallowed hard. “You don’t know the myths do you?”

  “About Thor? Yeah, Viking lightning god, blah, blah.”

  “Jormungand and Thor kill each other in the final battle.” As the words left Sabastin’s mouth, a grimace crossed his face. “I’m worried only you can stop him, and if you do, you will die.”

  “Caleb told me one more thing,” Malcom said as he slung the hammer over his shoulder and tried to put on his best brave face.

  “What’s that?” he asked, curiosity filling his scarred features.

  “He told me not to fear my death. That it was a new beginning.”

  Sabastin laughed, but it was more nervous than anything. “Well, Caleb would know, I guess.”

  “Why is that? Who is Caleb anyway?” Malcom asked, raising an eyebrow at the old man.

  “He’s the host for a death god,” Sabastin’s voice seemed to wallow in sadness. “He decided to become a host when he found out he was dying.”

  “Oh,” Malcom swallowed as he tried to picture what it would be like to know you were going to die, and then decide to become a host for a death god. That couldn’t exactly be fun, but then again, how was that really different from what he was? Take away his mantle and what would he be? Nothing. He shook off the loathsome voice in his head and sighed. “Why was Caleb dying?”

  “He was poisoned by a demon calling itself Jormungand.” Sabastin shook his head, and Malcom felt his blood run cold.

  “You mean to tell me you’re sending us off to face someone who nearly killed a death god?” Malcom snarled.

  “It’s not the same thing at all,” Sabastin replied as he pressed something on the console. “I’m willing to explain it, but I’m not sure it matters right now…” Before Malcom could do anything else, Sabastin pressed a button on the control panel next to him. A vibrant purple portal glimmered in the space between them, and Sabastin nodded once toward it. “Go on and embrace your destiny, butterfly.”

  Malcom nodded back. “After this, you and I are going to have a long chat.”

  “I look forward to it,” Sabastin replied as Malcom stepped into the glowing purple sphere.

  He emerged from the portal a split second later. Nausea filled his stomach, and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting. Malcom fell to his knees clutching his belly until the feeling passed. Malcom couldn’t remember a worse feeling in his entire life. Well, he probably could have, but he’d have to try pretty hard.

  Slowly, the surroundings soon came into focus. Fierce winds sent streams of scarlet dust and blackened debris whipping through the air. The sky seemed to be predominantly dark, almost as if the sun itself had given up on lighting the place, yet he could feel the hot, humid air kiss his skin. The smell of sulfur filled his nose and brought tears to his eyes.

  Malcom got to his feet and took a few wobbly steps toward a dark tower in the distance. He resolved to never ever take another trip through a portal. Then again, he might never get the chance.

  “What’s going to happen when I get there and have to face Jormungand?” he whispered, but the only reply came from the whistling of the wind.

  Ian 01:13

  As Ian approached the dark castle, he glanced nervously at Kim. Part of him wanted to ask her about her statement earlier, but most of him didn’t want to actually know the answer to the question rattling around in his mind. Maybe it was childish, or worse yet, cowardly, but was it so wrong to want desperately to ignore her cryptic behavior regarding the time they’d had drunken sex at a party?

  Probably, but that didn’t make him want to explore the possibility that their mistake might have been something more. Ian shook his head and exhaled slowly, doing his best to dismiss the idea Kim was hiding a deeper secret from him… that maybe she’d gotten pregnant…

  The thought made him want to throttle her. Unfortunately, as much as he tried to deny that she would do such a thing, it did make a certain amount of sense. He wasn’t quite sure how many people she’d slept with or anything, but she didn’t seem to regard them the way she did him. Had all that been because she had gotten pregnant and decided to get rid of it? If that was true… What could he do about it, and did he really want her to come out and tell him?

  He shook his head. No. If it was true, he didn’t want to know. Because if it was, he would kill her. The thought filled him with a cold certainty.

  “You know what’s weird?” Kim asked, breaking the silence and glancing back at him over her shoulder.

  “No, what?” Ian asked, his hand unconsciously reaching toward the hilt of Haijiku.

  “We haven’t run into Amy yet. She left before us, but she’s not here…”

  Ian swallowed as a chill ran up the back of his neck. Kim was right. Amy should be here already… Unless…

  “Do you think something happened to her?” Ian asked, spinning in a slow circle as he surveyed the landscape, looking for any sign of Amy but seeing none.

  “I hope not…” Kim shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t think she’s dead. I feel like I’d know…”

  Ian shut his eyes and considered her words, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized Kim was right. Amy might not be here with them physically, but he could sense her. She was close and she was alive.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I get the sense she’s on her way now,” Ian affirmed as he shook away his bad feeling and turned back toward the spire.

  It looked like it had been shaped from a mountain rather than built. Beetles and other insects scurried up and down the structure, making the walls seem alive. Twin statues stood next to the massive door, giant things, perhaps a hundred feet tall. Both were of Viking warriors with the heads of serpents and eyes like blazing coals. Each had an axe clasped in one hand and a shield in the other.

  Ian’s bad feeling returned as they stepped between the two statues and stared at the large iron door in front of them. It was adorned with several metal snake heads, their fangs all bared.

  “Maybe we should wait for Amy…” Kim whispered. Her voice was so quiet, Ian barely heard it.

  Before Ian could respond, the door swung open, and a voice boomed from within.

  “Come, mantle bearers. It is time we met face to face.” The sound rippled outward from the darkened entrance like slime, making Ian feel oily and unclean. He unconsciously rubbed his arms with his hands and looked hesitantly at Kim, smiled as best he could, and stepped through the doorway.

  Sitting upon a throne of living, writhing snakes was a girl about their age. She stared at them with blank, unseeing eyes as they approached, and for a moment, Ian wondered if she was really seeing them at all.

  “What is it you desire? What do you hope to gain from here?” she rasped at them. It sounded as though she had a mouth filled with gravel. “Is it death you seek?”

  Red light poured down on her from above as she stood, making her skin gleam a particularly serpentine shade of brown. She stepped off her dais and moved toward them, hands swinging idly by her sides. Even from here, Ian could clearly see the lithe muscle and jagged scars making up her body. If this was Sabastin’s daughter, she had been through some ro
ugh times.

  The skull of a particularly horrible demon sat upon her head, masking most of her face from view. Yet underneath it, her magenta eyes glowed brightly. She motioned for them to come forward, a large metallic claw on her hand.

  “Jormungand, you need to leave Sabastin’s daughter,” Kim said, stepping forward, her fists clenched together.

  “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.” She stretched her arms backward, pressing her breasts against her skin-tight serpentine bodysuit. “I like this body. It has boundless potential.”

  Before either of them could say anything, Jormungand smashed her fist into Kim’s face, knocking her backward through the door and onto the ground outside. Ian stared at Jormungand in horror as she slowly retracted her hand and dropped it to her side.

  He hadn’t even seen Jormungand move, had barely seen the blow hit Kim. Horror wormed its way up from his gut as he stared open-mouthed at the spot where Kim had been standing. How the hell were they supposed to kill something that fast?

  His hand clenched around Haijiku as he took a step backward, his throat suddenly dry. He tried to will himself to move, to do anything at all as Jormungand passed by him without so much as a glance and walked out to where Kim lay on her back, blood running from the corner of her mouth.

  The two statues stared down on the two women as Jormungand smiled, hoisting Kim into the air by her throat, the metal claws resting against her cheek. “The only way I’d consider leaving this body would be if you traded me, Victoria.” She grinned. “Are you willing to trade?”

  Kim cracked Jormungand across the face with her elbow. The girl wobbled, and Kim kicked her in the stomach with both feet. Jormungand released her, and Kim fell to the ground and rolled into a kneeling position. Kim reached out, her hand glowing with white light so bright it seared Ian’s eyes and illuminated the whole courtyard.

  Energy exploded from Kim’s palm. Jormungand sauntered toward her, sidestepping the attack with ease. The blast cleaved into the left statue, blowing it to bits of rubble.

  Ian drew Haijiku, and as he did, insatiable hunger filled him, coloring the world with blood. He took a step into the rubble strewn courtyard as three blades punctured his chest just under his right shoulder. His hand slid off Haijiku. His hunger receded, falling away from him as the katana clanged emptily to the ground. Blazing hot agony exploded through his being as Jormungand leaned in close to him, pressing her breasts against his bleeding back and wrapping her free hand around his waist as she pulled his body close to hers.

  “Now, now Fames. We can’t have you unleashing Haijiku here and now,” she whispered in his ear as she released him. He collapsed to the ground, blood spilling out of his wound and turning the dirt into sanguine mud.

  The courtyard blazed to life, white light spreading outward from Kim like a living thing as she strode forward, hands curled into fists. Shadows leapt away from her with every step she took until the whole of their surroundings was like one brightly lit room with a blindingly white torch moving through it.

  Jormungand’s lips curled into a smile as she stepped over him, and Ian’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t noticed it before but Jormungand wore another claw on her other hand. Instead of having three blades like the one on her left hand, this one had two long pieces of sharpened bone that curved around in front of her fist. All at once, Ian understood. While the first was meant for stabbing, this one was meant to slash through her opponent. It was a distance weapon.

  The purple-haired Jormungand swung her curved claw at Kim who stepped forward into the attack and slammed her wrist into Jormungand’s own, stopping the weapon inches from her face. Kim reached out with her other hand and touched the other girl’s chest with three glowing fingers. A garish purple explosion erupted, searing a series of pencil-sized holes through Jormungand right side.

  “You know this isn’t my body right?” Jormungand cooed, staggering backward several steps as smoke poured from her wound. “All you’re doing is killing poor Sabastin’s daughter.” She rammed her knee into Kim’s stomach. Saliva exploded from Kim’s mouth as she buckled over gripping her stomach. The white glow around her faded as Jormungand grabbed Kim by the back of the head and slammed her face first into the remaining statue. The sound of wet meat hitting rock filled the air as cracks spiderwebbed outward along the stature from the point of impact.

  “No…” Ian cried, his vision turning blue and frosty as he watched Jormungand try to kill his friend. “No. You can’t have her.” Rage filled him. No, she had taken something from him, something important. If anyone was going to take her life, it would be him, not some silly serpent. He was famine. He was the cold unyielding winter that took everything and left nothing.

  Ian reached out with his good arm and called upon the power of his mantle. Hunger leapt within him and the temperature fell. Frost spread out around him as Jormungand turned. She took a step toward him, dragging Kim’s broken body along the dirt. Kim’s eye was swollen shut, and blood poured from her split lips.

  “I was going to let you live, Fames,” Jormungand said, licking her lips in a way that made some very uncomfortable thoughts rattle around in Ian’s brain. “I think you’d be a wonderful ally.” She reached up touching her mouth with one delicate finger. “Don’t make me regret my decision by trying something stupid.”

  Ian climbed to his feet, and staggered forward, each step leaving a trail of ice behind him that rippled outward like a slowly crashing wave.

  “Sorry,” Ian replied. “It’s a generous offer, but someone once told me to base my self-worth on what I do when it matters.” A smile crossed his lips as he bent down and gripped Haijiku. Winter wind exploded across the horizon, dousing the earth in unending, unyielding winter. “I’d say what I do now, matters.”

  He pointed his weapon at Jormungand, and the girl smiled back at him and shook her head. “Very well, Fames. If it is death you seek, than I shall grant your wish.”

  An emerald meteor crashed down between him and Jormungand. Dust and debris flew everywhere. The shockwave of the impact was enough to throw Ian backward. He hit the ground on his back, his breath whooshing out of his body as Haijiku slipped from his grasp. In the sky above, thunder howled and lightning flashed. Rain fell, turning the ground around them to mud in an instant.

  “Jormungand!” Malcom yelled, and before Ian could even blink, Malcom charged forward from the cloud of debris and slammed into Jormungand. The girl staggered backward, her feet sticking in the mud as she fell backward, toppling to the earth as Kim’s body tumbled to the ground next to her. Malcom raised his gleaming hammer above his head to deal a death blow and arcs of emerald electricity leapt from its surface.

  “Go ahead,” Jormungand said, a smile splitting her face into a horrific mask. “Destroy this body. See if I care…” Malcom’s hand wavered. “Do it and I’ll just take your girlfriend for a ride.”

  Jormungand lashed out with both hands. Her steel claw bit deep into Malcom’s stomach cleaving upward into his ribcage. The other claw tore downward through the air, but Malcom shattered it with his hammer. Malcom raised his free hand in the air, like he hadn’t just been disemboweled, and slammed the full force of his fist into the base of the skull atop Jormungand’s head, obliterating it in a spray of bone.

  The girl looked up at him and smiled. The ground around them blazed to life as flames danced around them. The fire seethed, changing colors so rapidly it made Ian’s head spin. Jormungand’s savage eyes beheld Malcom. Her power flared like the fire around her, and Ian had to look away. Even still spots danced across his eyes. It seemed as if Jormungand was an army unto herself, but none other was with her.

  “I am Jormungand, the strongest of Loki’s children! For years I killed our enemies. I alone protected the seas while no one else dared.” Jormungand lashed out with her remaining claw. The savage move tore into Malcom’s face as he tried to dodge. He fell backward, clutching his eye as Jormungand rose to her full height. Only that was impossible becau
se she seemed twenty feet tall. Her shadow fell across the earth as she strode forward and rain fell as blood around them.

  “There is nothing you can do to defeat me, Mors. Even with all your power, your eyes are like that of a child’s. You hoped just showing up would be enough, but it’s not.” Jormungand stepped forward, the toe of her bare foot digging into Malcom’s torn gut. “But victory requires sacrifice. What have you sacrificed, boy? What are you willing to give?”

  Jormungand ground her toes into Malcom’s belly, and he screamed, the shrill cry ripping Ian’s soul asunder. He couldn’t leave Malcom to die, not like this. If they fell now who would stop this monster?

  Ian shut his eyes, reaching out with the power of his mantle, and felt its numbing cold envelope him. His wounded arm went numb as his fingers curled around Haijiku’s hilt. Power surged up along his arm like an electric current, jolting his eyes open.

  Jormungand glanced at him and sighed. “Let me guess, Fames, you still intend to try my power? What a waste.”

  “It may be foolish,” Ian replied, getting to his feet, and as he stepped toward the inhuman monster, ice spread out around him, frosting over the battlefield. Ian pointed his sword at Jormungand. “Not everything is a waste.”

  A strange smile crossed Jormungand’s face. “Do you think you can kill me? Destroying evil is more than just punishing servants and erasing their sins.”

  Jormungand took a step forward, and as she did so, Malcom rolled onto his hands and knees. He coughed, blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Without warning, Jormungand turned and kicked Malcom in the ribs popping him into the air like a soccer ball. She followed the attack with another kick, sending Malcom crashing backward into the blackened wall of the spire. He slammed into it so hard, the sound of the impact rattled Ian’s teeth.

  Malcom fell forward, collapsing to the ground in a broken, bloody heap as Ian slashed at Jormungand’s back with Haijiku. The dark blade glinted even in the darkness. She spun and caught the katana in her left hand. Blood flowed from the wound, but the injury didn’t seem to affect her. With a flick of her wrist, she twisted the sword, wrenching it from his hands by the blade. Ian stumbled, thrown off balance as his hunger receded, and as it did so, his pain returned.