Work first. We will celebrate when the war is won, Odin agreed, brusquely. We have millions of square miles to cover, and no way to predict when and where a mad godling will strike.
We also need to convince the humans to stop killing each other, Quetzalcoatl said abruptly, his tone fierce as he raised his head. I slew the emperor of my own people to stop the sacrifices, and now, the people riot. There is no leadership, beyond the priesthood and the military, and those two forces are at odds with each other.
Your military is retreating into our lands, Toutatis pointed out, sharply.
They have nowhere else to go, Quetzalcoatl returned, his eyes burning behind his golden mask. I have evacuated another ten thousand of my best and most loyal soldiers, and their families, across the sea, to Iberia, Judea, and Tyre. But there is no safe haven in all of Nahautl. I have seen such frenzy before, in a single town or region. These paroxysms of violence usually burn themselves out in three to five years. But this mania grips the whole of my land.
There was a moment of sympathetic silence. You did not know, Mamaquilla said, quietly. You did not know that cutting off the head of the snake, would make the body spasm and thrash, when it should have gone limp.
I should return there, and do what you have done in years past, Quetzalcoatl told her, bitterly. Assume direct control of the human government.
And then what? Prometheus asked, calmly. Execute everyone who disobeys you?
It is an option. Not a good one, but they are without effective leadership at the moment. The army loosely controls the north. The priests are in complete control of the south. What if I simply execute all the priests who are not mine? There are only a few of my brethren left, and they are weak. Defeat and weariness in Quetzalcoatl’s voice. If I do away with them, the common people will at least not be under threat. They could band together against the monsters that at least have the courtesy to wear inhuman faces, for ready identification.
Prometheus rocked a hand back and forth. If you are asking for the odds? Starting from the northern ‘safe’ zone, working your way south, and doing precisely that . . . striking directly at Tenochtitlan, perhaps finding a relatively sane general and imbuing him with your power to act as an emperor, for a time? He thought about it. You could have stability in the capital in six months. Unfortunately, an action so direct may cause people to turn on you. The priests who are left, who draw power from the fear of the masses, will claim that you are not Quetzalcoatl, the merciful west wind, but . . . someone else. An invader. Or worse, that you serve Rome now, with a chain around your neck. Your power base may actually wane.
I cannot sit by and do nothing! Quetzalcoatl seethed. Sigrun could catch, every now and again, a hint of one of Ehecatl’s expressions in the god’s face. It was . . . jarring.
She stood, and walked around the table, dropping to a crouch by the Nahautl god’s side, and hesitantly put a hand on his arm. His head jerked around in response, and a fleeting look of recognition crossed his face. None of us wishes to sit by and do nothing, Sigrun said, trying to keep it as quiet a thought as she could. A little more loudly, she added, I do not have nearly so many people calling my Name as the rest of you do. There are days when I think I will go mad from all the pain and all the death, and being pulled to them all. I do not know how any of you stand it. She could say it. She was the least and weakest entity here. The rest of them probably couldn’t admit such things, not and save face. And they were all probably inured to it, after centuries of hearing the voices. But so many, all in fear and pain and mortal danger? All the time, from all directions? How desperate were the gods to silence the voices, to save those whom they could?
None of us wish to sit idly by, Tyr said, quietly, but with force. However, we cannot be everywhere. We cannot do everything. We must have a plan.
And we must take care of the largest threat, first, Odin said, nodding. The biggest threat is the mad godlings. If we can remove them, then we can move on to addressing other problems. Stopping them will halt the ley-line destabilization that is causing so many earthquakes and eruptions. It will give us all time to work on warming the fields and letting crops grow.
Juno shook her head slightly. And how are we to address the issue of the mad godlings, Odin? As you have said, there is no way to predict where they will go, other than to feed on the remains of a god. And when they do not have Veil energies to eat, they turn on the ley-lines, largely leaving electrical and geothermal sources alone.
Sigrun raised her head. They have also not fed from the nuclear fission plants of Judea. But they do feed on human life-energy. That is very clear.
And when they have run out of gods, they will devour every human on the planet, Freya said, softly.
Odin nodded, slowly. We will have to consider how to lure them to us, at some point, he agreed. But we must consider tactics, first. Almost inevitably, when a mad godling is destroyed, it splits. We have had some luck in chasing down smaller godlings and destroying them after they fissure. However, the only sure method so far has been devouring. Consuming. The efreet, Illa’zhi, has had some luck with this. He looked around the chamber, his single eye piercing. It is not for nothing that so many of us here assembled are death-gods. Orcus, too, survives.
More’s the pity, Thor grumbled. But that is being addressed, I believe.
Pluto’s cowled head rose. You wish for us to devour and contain them? They are madness. Their madness will contaminate us. I have no great desire to gibber like Apollo of Delphi.
We have managed it, in small amounts, before. The efreet absorbed a small one . . . one only capable of turning a small city into ghul. Ten thousand mouths or so, to feed it life-energy. Odin shifted. My proposal is that every time a mad-god is sighted, we all converge on it, regardless of territory. Whoever is closest, goes, and we go in force. Whoever is there, contains it, unspins it, until Pluto, myself, Sigrun, or Niðhoggr can arrive. Morrigan, you as well. You are death in battle, if not death itself. You may be able to contain their essence.
They considered the plan. Large ones will still need to be broken. Only you and Pluto have enough power to absorb the ones that blot out the sky, Taranis said, bluntly. But the plan has merit. He sighed. I wish that I had chosen differently, when I watched Piltzintecuhtli fighting in the desert against one of the mad ones. If I had known he would sacrifice himself for the good of his people . . . I would have aided him. And we would have one more here to fight.
Quetzalcoatl turned to give the Gallic thunder god a dark look. Yes. It is late now, for second thoughts. Sigrun, beside the Nahautl god, shuddered a little, and stepped back. The potential for violence hung in the air like the electrical charge that preceded the lightning bolt.
If we can manage this, Toutatis said, practically, we will be giving humanity and the world a fighting chance. But there can be no more self-sacrifices, no more liberating our power to destabilize the godlings. The crafter god tapped his fingers on the table. We have already seen what happens if one of us dies too close to our fellows. The shockwave can prove as fatal to one of us, as to the godlings, if we have been weakened. It is noble to die in battle, but winning this war is the noblest and best cause any of us has. And we must stay alive to win it. He stared around the table, and all of the gods of Valhalla shifted, a little guiltily. Death in battle was the highest honor their human believers understood.
The meeting broke up after that. With allies still uneasy with one another, but growing into a better sense of confidence. Sigrun could hear the Evening Star telling Venus, in regretful tones, I have more worshippers now, than at any other point in my existence, as the survivors of a dozen tribes have all turned to me, and to lost Coyote. I have more power, thanks to them, than ever before. And I do not want it. Not this way. Not with all the people diminished so.
Sigrun had never precisely been good at mingling, and was deeply relieved that no one here seemed inclined to stay and chat. She wasn’t even sure what she would have said to queenly Juno, or cold, silent Plu
to. Your baby is so beautiful was little more than a platitude. Though Aeva was beautiful, and the startled, unguarded joy in Juno’s face, whenever she looked at the child, and did not think anyone was watching, made Sigrun’s heart ache.
What troubles you? Nith asked, regaining his normal size in the antechamber outside.
Nothing. She paused, and then added, reflectively, Reginleif and Brandr invited me to see their egg in the incubator last week. Reality hasn’t sunk in for them yet, entirely, I think. And seeing Juno, barren and joyless for twenty-five hundred years? It seems to me that I have very little to complain about.
You still yearn for a child? he asked, head swinging all the way around to regard her, steadily.
Sigrun reached for an elbow joint, and pulled herself up, climbing Nith’s side with the ease of long practice. She could have flown, of course, but this felt . . . more right. Yes and no. She shrugged. It would have been a gift to give Steelsoul, long ago. But perhaps I am fortunate that I did not have any. I would already be seeing them start to age, if they were mortal. The thought was a hollow one. I just turned eighty-nine, you realize? Compared to all of the gods . . . she glanced down at Nith, and amended, Compared to all of you . . . I am an infant.
We are all as old as we think we are. Nith’s tone was odd. She studied him; his light-inside-of-shadow essence remained the same, but was colored with emotion at the moment. Dark blues and burgundies, with jags of scarlet and yellow. He tended to sublimate his emotional radiance around her. Or perhaps I choose not to see it, Sigrun thought, and sighed. I need to be better about that. Scarlet and yellow were anger and irritation, respectively. She knew that much.
At that moment, Fenris trotted up behind them, with Pluto and Artemis in his wake. The great wolf bared his fangs. Nephew and . . . sister. The wolf deemed her as much Loki’s daughter as Tyr’s. He considered her Hel’s replacement, as Loki himself did.
Stormborn is decidedly not my progenitor, Uncle. Nith’s tone was reserved, but respectful.
Would it matter if she were your mother? Fenris’ tongue lolled out in some sort of obscure amusement.
Perhaps not. But one who has known them both would never mistake one for the other.
Sigrun was grateful for the byplay. She still had no idea what to do with Fenris’ mode of greeting. She bowed her head now, respectfully. Fenrir Vánagandr. Do we hunt now?
You will need to do something to catch Orcus’ attention, Sigrun Stormborn. And while he may begin tracking you, he may hesitate to strike with Malice-Striker with you.
I will not leave her side for this. Orcus is a powerful foe.
You may need to do so, nephew. That was a low growl.
Once we are certain we have his attention, I will send Niðhoggr away if necessary. Sigrun swallowed. Come. Let us go be very visible.
Being visible meant traveling all over the world, separate from the rest of the gods, but with Fenris, master skulker and hunter that he was, trailing behind them. Pluto was too urgently needed to deal with the mad godlings for this task, and periodically, they were all summoned away to fight the godlings. The other gods were all travelling in groups of at least three as they ranged through Caesaria Aquilonis, Tawantinsuyu, Europa, and the Mediterranean, looking for mad godlings and trying to help the humans, as best they could. Being bait amid all these distractions might take a long time. And she wasn’t the only possible target, after all. Loki had doubled his protections on Fritti, who, while not a goddess, met most of Orcus’ victim profile.
So, in order to attract Orcus’ attention, Sigrun needed to stay out of the Veil and Judea as much as possible. This meant overland flights, and using her powers. But being visible also meant that mad godlings might target her, as well. Nith had already told her that if they found a mad godling that was beyond their combined power, they would duck back into the Veil, and wait until allies could come and aid them. The gods were united now. Too little, too late, Sigrun thought
The fenris allied with the jotun defenders howled in the advance areas, their voices carrying over the snow-covered landscape, greeting them as they soared overhead. Stormborn! Stormborn and Malice-Striker! the cheers rang out, and Nith swung once more overhead, in acknowledgement . . . and then they dipped off, heading further south. To collect eggs, distribute supplies to stations like Erikir’s, or anything else showy. Any signs of Orcus yet? Sigrun asked, though her own othersight showed no dark ripples, no distortions. And no mad gods . . . at least, not yet.
Not that I have seen. Still, I remain uneasy.
So do I, my friend. So do I. She paused. South, Nith. Miles to go before we sleep.
Judea, then. But by the long route.
Thousands of miles to fly, over ruined cities and grendel encampments. Through storms and through sunshine. Sigrun frequently found herself fighting drowsiness as they flew, due to the daylight, and actually dozed off once, the subtle vibration of Nith’s wings lulling her to sleep. She awoke to warmth rising in her body, drowsy pleasure, and shifted her hips a little to push down against the source of that pleasure . . . and then snapped entirely awake, her eyes going wide. Turbulence? she asked Nith, shifting carefully between his neck ridges. If he held his neck just so, the ridges helped keep her in place, even during combat maneuvers. At the moment, however, that was not really the problem.
Some, yes. No sign of pursuit yet, so I did not wish to awaken you. His tone was a little puzzled. Did you sense something amiss? His head swung around to scan their environment more closely.
Sigrun coughed. Ah, no. Nothing’s amiss. But I should be more vigilant. As you often tell me, sleep is a habit of my mortal life. And I had much better discipline before becoming night.
If you require rest, you require rest. Nith paused. We are about to cross over the Alps. We can enter Rome’s airspace and then pass over the Adriatic on our way east.
We’re that far south? How long did I sleep? Sigrun sat up, embarrassment lost in her chagrin.
Not long enough to dream, I think.
Over the Alps, however, looking down at the folds and plains in the earth, the snow-covered, jagged peaks, Sigrun shuddered as a creeping sensation made its way up her spine. Nith . . . we’re being followed, and it’s not Fenris.
Mad godling. It just came in from the east, I believe. Nith bared his teeth. How large?
Sigrun managed to get a visual, and swallowed as she saw the first black tendrils uncoil, one arc reaching from zenith to the horizon. Too large for just the two of us. We weren’t supposed to get into this today. We’re supposed to be bait for Orcus, damn it, not for these things.
Into the Veil, then. Nith tore at reality with his wings, and then they were through, and circling above what looked like a landscape made of jagged rocks made of silicon. Pure silver, melted and cut into odd shapes. He lifted his head and roared, while Stormborn cast out her mind for Freya, Tyr, and Loki, telling them what she and Nith had spotted. Well, we didn’t think we’d catch Orcus in a day, she thought, tiredly. And then they all ducked back out. . . . .
. . . into the cold air and light of reality. Odin, Freya, Tyr, Pluto, Sigrun, Nith, and Amaterasu hovered over the ridges of the mountains, and the mad godling on the horizon actually paused for a moment, before snarling and coming right for them. Sigrun could dimly discern, past it, a dozen smaller entities.
It took until nightfall, and Sigrun was extremely grateful that Pluto and Odin were there to do most of the actual absorption, though Nith and she wound up swallowing a good deal of the godling, as well. Sigrun curled in on herself, shaking and ill. She’d had to absorb some of their essences before. But this one she could feel lurking inside of her. Trying to claw its way out from behind her eyes, as if someone had jammed a live and panicking tiger into her head, and it wanted to carve itself an exit. And from the tremors in Nith’s neck, she could tell he felt the same way. Disquieting, Pluto whispered.
Any major ill-effects? Freya asked them all.
Pluto held up a hand as they all came in
for a landing on one of the snowy mountainsides, and Sigrun could see that his flesh was dripping off the bones as it unwound itself into its constituent worms. This is more pronounced than normal. I will need to return to Olympus until I am certain that I will not become little more than a skeleton. The dusty voice whispered and coiled in Sigrun’s head, and she shuddered again, internally. She did not wish to become what he was. There were prices too high to be paid.
The king of the underworld lowered his cowled head to them all, and then vanished.
And you? Amaterasu asked, looking at Sigrun and Nith, her head tipped slightly to the side. Sigrun was struck by the fact that one of Minori’s bodily mannerisms had stuck to the goddess. Or perhaps she’s always stood that way . . . maybe she’s always had it from Min, even on the other side of time. Pre-remembered. The thought was dizzy.
The Goddess Embraced (The Saga of Edda-Earth Book 3) Page 133
