After the Fire (After the Fire: Book the First)

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After the Fire (After the Fire: Book the First) Page 14

by J. L. Murray


  Magda asked the bird to move its head so she could look over the wall. There was deep forest all around and a wide, narrow meadow, white with snow. She could see movement in the trees wherever she looked. The dark creatures were settling in without Eleni. Magda had been happy to see Fin come back to camp for many reasons, but mostly just to keep the slime from this horrible forest away.

  Magda heard a creak and Mati's head turned to look. The door of one of only a few unburned hovels had opened. A figure stepped out, and Magda knew him at once. She had known before, though she couldn't tell the others for certain until she had known for sure. He looked much like the wolf brothers, Skoll and Hati, but Loki never did get the eyes right. And the soft, very unwolflike eyes that gazed out of that hideous, shaggy head were deep with intelligence. He was shaped differently, too. From what Magda could recall, the brothers were stocky and muscular, where this replica was tall and lean, just like Loki's true form.

  Magda felt a powerful stir in the air, an almost painful sensation hitting her even in her spectral form. Loki radiated with it. It seemed to travel around him, orbiting his body in waves. This was not good. A chaos god should not have such power. It felt nearly as strong as the power of the Fates. Magda yearned even more strongly for her sisters. He had to be stopped. It was not possible, but he was stronger than she had even contemplated.

  Magda watched as he changed. The hair began to recede from his body, his spine straightened, and his face changed. He stood panting for a moment after it was over before he straightened. He was stark naked, but walked through the fresh snow not seeming to notice. Or not caring. He gazed around the village leisurely, his eyes sliding across the destroyed village, made fresh and new by the snow. Finally, his eyes landed on her. And he smiled.

  Magda tried to will the bird to fly, but she couldn't budge it. That had never happened before. She tried again, but instead of flying away, Mati rose up and glided down to land on Loki's outstretched hand.

  “Hello, Magda,” he said calmly. “I was wondering when you would show up. Couldn't get into my head, could you?”

  Magda was frightfully aware that his fingers curled around the raven's body. Softly, but the threat was there. He could crush Mati if he wished to.

  “You're probably wondering why you couldn't fly away,” he said. He smiled again. He seemed to have too many teeth. There was something wrong with the smile. Magda realized that it didn't touch any other part of his face. Only the mouth moved. “I happened to come across a nature god in my travels,” said Loki. His hair seemed to blend in with the gray clouds above them. “I took his power. I can control any natural animal I choose. Technically, your freakish bird is still natural.” His face went cold and the smile faded. “It is you who is unnatural. You and your kind.”

  Magda managed to make Mati flutter his wings, but it was a paltry movement. Loki grunted with satisfaction. “You won't be able to flutter back to your own body either,” said Loki, looking at her, or rather Mati, with mock sadness. “Not until I let you. Funny, isn't it? Once you could control whether I lived or died, suffered or walked free. Now it's the other way around.”

  All Magda could do was watch. She couldn't talk or even scream. She was a tiny bird in a giant's hand. She wondered if she could die this way. She didn't think so, but anything was possible. To her surprise, though, Loki's face changed from cold anger to deep sadness. “She died out there,” he said, his voice cracking. “She died while I lay helpless and bound. And you and your sisters could have stopped it at any time.”

  If Magda could have spoken she would have said that the Fates had no place in the politics of gods. Odin's anger was none of her affair. But all that came out of the raven's beak was a high-pitched squawk.

  Loki looked at her for a long time, his expression like someone lost with no knowledge of how to get back to the road. For a moment sadness filled his violet eyes. But it slowly changed back into anger. “We will wait here,” he said, his voice taut. “Your gods will come to us. And they will lose.”

  His fingers tightened and she felt Mati's terror. She felt tiny bones breaking, and after a moment, she felt a wash of coldness come over her. Then she felt her consciousness being dragged back, like a rider thrown from a horse, back the way she had come through the void, hurtling and screaming and her heart hollow with sadness. Mati was dead. And she was quite possibly sending the gods off to their slaughter.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eleni stood on the edge of camp staring at the newcomers. A “calling of the gods” seemed to imply numbers, but there weren't as many as she had expected. Here were only five. Eleni frowned. Everyone kept talking about Loki as though he were to be feared, as though he were an indestructible force. But Eleni wasn't convinced. He was only one, after all. And they were many, gods and Reivers. Eleni had killed hundreds of dark creatures over the years. She had taught herself to use her power instead of fear it. She would cower for no one, especially not a petty god of chaos.

  A man stood with the Reivers. He was two times the size of Elek, tall and wide. A great black beard rose out from his face and was contained in two braids down his chest. He laughed loudly and often, holding his great belly as he did so. He was laughing now, his chest shaking with his guffaws. He slapped a Reiver on the back and sent him flying over the fire. This seemed to make him laugh harder. Many of the Reivers took a tentative step away from him, laughing nervously. Only Elek seemed at ease around the man.

  A woman with dark hair that cascaded around her in shining ringlets moved among the women, who were buzzing around the camp like bees. Gathering wood to prepare the last meal before the men set off, gathering cloaks and wrapping various items in packs for their husbands and fathers to take with them. Some of the women were crying. The dark-haired woman glided between them with a hard look on her face. She wore a long green cloak trimmed in fur.

  A man was talking to Fin. He had a beard like the first, but it was bushy and unconstrained. His hair hung in ropes down his back and his woven coat was tangled with bits of dried leaves and small twigs. His beard and hair, too, when Eleni looked closer, seemed to be bursting with bits of plants and dead flowers, as if they had gotten tangled there and he just hadn't bothered to clean them out. Fin didn't seem to notice. The two of them were laughing together as old friends.

  The other two, a man and a woman, hovered at the far edge of camp. Eleni frowned as she peered at the man. She had never seen anything like it. His skin was gray and looked slightly moist. He wasn't unattractive, but she found it difficult to look at him. He was tall and slim and he had black hair like the rest of them. Gray robes flowed around him in the breeze and made him look more than a little like a specter. The woman appeared to be repelled by him, her posture conveying that she yearned to step away from him. But she was equally suspicious of everyone else in the camp. Eleni recognized that look because she usually carried it on her own face. The woman didn't trust anyone in the camp. Eleni could see her scanning the encampment the way Eleni scanned the countryside during the hunt. The woman's dark hair was pulled back in a tight knot on her head and she had the biggest bow Eleni had ever seen slung over her shoulder. The woman's eyes suddenly stopped on Eleni, her eyebrows shooting up. Knowing she had been seen, Eleni stepped out from behind the tree and into the open.

  Slowly all five newcomers seemed to sense her presence. The big man stopped laughing and slowly turned to face her, the smile fading from his face. The beautiful woman with curly hair stepped toward her, turning her back on the women. Fin and the man he was talking to turned their heads to look at her, and the gray man narrowed his eyes at her. Eleni paused, unsettled by the eyes upon her.

  “I don't believe it,” said the big man, shaking himself free of the Reivers that had gathered around him. He stepped toward Eleni. “It's you. But it cannot be you.”

  Eleni snorted. She looked from face to face. “I cannot help who I am,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

  “Magda is sure,” Fin said, walking a
cross the camp and standing beside Eleni. “I'm sure, too. Eleni is the new Zaric. The new goddess of fire.”

  “The Sudices have changed him,” said the man with the bushy beard that had been talking to Fin. He was looking at Eleni with concern. “Why does he look so unlike us?”

  “He looks like a Sudice,” said the soft, cool voice of the gray man.

  The beautiful woman in the long, green cloak approached Eleni. Eleni wanted to run away from these people. To go into the forest and never come out. Who were they to tell her she didn't look right? She didn't even know them. But even as the thought occurred to her, she knew it was untrue. She did know them. She even knew their names. The beautiful woman coming toward her was Lada. She stopped in front of Eleni with the strong scent of flowers, warm and dusty like a summer afternoon. Lada reached out a small, perfect hand. Eleni flinched, but Lada smiled at her. She touched Eleni's face, her hand cool against Eleni's hot skin.

  “Sister,” said Lada. “So pretty.” She turned to look at the bushy-bearded man. Veles, Eleni recalled. “Why does she look so different?” Lada asked. She turned back to Eleni, her fingers trailing to Eleni's hair. “So different from Zaric. From any of us.” Her eyes met Eleni's. “What happened to you?”

  Eleni swallowed thickly. She shook her head. She remembered. She couldn't stop remembering. It didn't come in a rush now, it was now all there in her head, just as it had happened to Zaric. To her. Zaric's memories were now her own. She felt a hollowness in the pit of her stomach. “I died,” Eleni whispered.

  The big man, Radegast, stepped toward her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal he was trying not to spook. Eleni met his eyes, as dark as hers were light.

  “I have never felt such pain,” Eleni said. She felt a hot tear stream down her cheek, boiling into vapor before it got to her chin. “And then I was gone for such a long time. Into this body, this newness. I was different. Not just a woman, but truly different.”

  Eleni could feel the words coming out of her like they were her own, but they sounded so unlike her. They were her words, but from a different part of her. Seeing her family, knowing them, had released these memories as if a great iron door had been pried open. They were staring at her wide-eyed now, even the strong, stoic Diza, holding her bow like a child. The memories flooded her, making her vision blur and she doubled over. “What's happening?” she asked, through gritted teeth.

  “She's remembering,” she heard Fin say as strong arms held her, picked her up.

  “It burned,” Eleni whispered. “So much fire. I've never burned before, but I burned.”

  “She's reliving her death,” a male voice said. Soft and almost gray itself. Marowit, her brother. The god of nightmares.

  Through blurred vision, she felt herself being carried inside her tent. Fin laid her on her cot. Pain coursed through her body suddenly, making Eleni arch her back and scream. She heard a deeper scream join her own. The pain subsided, but she could feel another wave coming. Fin was holding his arm to his chest, his eyes filled with pain.

  “Fin?” Eleni croaked. The wave was coming again and she arched her back, her scream seeming unworldly. She smelled smoke, and was reminded of her childhood, dreaming bad dreams about burning when she would awake to find her bedding burned to ashes in her metal box, smoke filling her lungs, her body covered in soot. The wave passed again and a face popped into her head. A face she now recognized as if she had just seen it yesterday.

  There was the sound of the heavy flap being lifted and a cold breeze that carried the smoke away. Magda stood there looking around at them all, her good eye frantically taking in the situation. “Are you mad? Get away from her. She's going to kill you all,” she wheezed.

  The gods backed away, looking fearfully at Eleni. They all went out through the flap, one by one, casting curious and frightened glances at her as they went. Magda pushed Fin out last of all, still holding his arm. Magda looked at her. “You will feel pain, child, but you must feel it alone. I'm sorry.”

  “Perun,” Eleni muttered. “He didn't come.”

  Magda paused, the flap in her hand. She looked back at Eleni. “No, he didn't.”

  “I know why.” Eleni was sweating as she had seen people from the village do when they were in a fever. She felt the necklace at her throat suddenly come to life again. A mild jolt in her chest made her shiver.

  “Why?” said Magda. “Why didn't the lightning god come, child?”

  “Because he killed me,” said Eleni breathlessly. “And he knows how to take the gods.”

  Magda was staring at her. “What are you saying?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “Perun killed me because I knew. But he wasn't strong enough to take my soul. He must have taught Loki to do it. My own brother, Perun. He is the god-eater.” Eleni could feel the pain coming again, each wave more powerful than the last. “Go,” said Eleni, her voice hardly above a breath. “Before I hurt you. Please go.”

  Eleni heard the flap being opened and dropping heavily, the cool winter air cooling her for just a moment before the pain took her again. Burning, she realized. She was burning. This is what had happened to her. This is what Perun had done to her. And when she came out on the other side of this, the god of lightning was going to find out what it felt like to burn.

  Daylight still filtered in through Eleni's eyelids when she came back to herself. She stared at the bright red of the back of her eyelids for a long time. She could tell that her tent was gone, and she felt not a cot under her, but cold earth.

  Eleni opened her eyes. The forest no longer surrounded her. In fact, nothing surrounded her. She stood up slowly and turned around, unable to comprehend the sight. Snow fell upon her, strange snow. She held out her hand to catch some, and realized her mistake. It wasn't snow. It was ash. Just like the countryside. The blackened ground crunched delicately under her bare feet. There was nothing here but desolation. A breeze rustled her hair, but it didn't refresh her. It smelled of burning. Eleni looked up at the sky. Thick red smoke hid the daylight casting an eerie glow over the burned countryside.

  Eleni put her hand over her mouth and stifled a sob. She shook her head. “No,” she moaned. “Please, no. Not again.”

  Something flickered in front of her, making her blink. There was nothing there, but there was a sharp smell, like in a lightning storm. Eleni frowned at the spot she had seen movement. Another flicker, then it was gone. She was sure she had seen a figure there.

  “Hello?” Eleni said.

  There was a sound like a branch snapping and suddenly a woman stood in front of Eleni. She was young and beautiful, with red hair that was wrapped around her head in intricate plaits. She wore thick robes the same icy blue as her eyes. The same color as Eleni's.

  “I know you,” said Eleni. “Danai. The youngest of the Fates.”

  “I know who I am,” said Danai, her gaze firmly on Eleni. “Do you know who you are?”

  “Yes,” said Eleni. “I do now.”

  “No,” said Danai, shaking her head. “You don't. But you're starting to.”

  “This isn't real,” said Eleni. “I'm dreaming. Please say I'm dreaming.”

  “You are. But that doesn't make this any less real.”

  Eleni shook her head. “I didn't do this. I couldn't have. I'm not strong enough.”

  “You did this,” said Danai. “Though not in this lifetime.”

  Eleni looked up at the sky again, the rolling smoke stinging even her eyes. She brushed ash from her face. “This is the fire. When I—when Zaric died. When he was murdered.”

  “You need to stop separating yourself from Zaric,” said Danai. “You are one and the same. You died. You were murdered. You destroyed the earth. Only you. There is no him. Only you.”

  “No,” said Eleni. “I'm not the same. I'm different now.”

  “Why?” Danai said. “Because you were raised with humans? How did that fare for them? Because you wanted so desperately to be one of them? How did that fare for you?” Danai shook he
r head. “Because you had a mother? Anja was no mother to you. She did you no favors. If anything, she is the reason you now suffer.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Anja is a Fate. She is perhaps the most important of the Three.” There was a controlled edge to Danai's voice, and a deep anger under her words. “She knew the path that should have been taken. The path that was destined to be thousands of years ago. Before the gods even existed we weaved the way for things to be. We saw your death. We saw the fire. We knew she would become a vessel.”

  “Then why is she lost?” said Eleni. “Why doesn't Magda know where she is?”

  “Because Anja changed your fate. And now everything is chaos. Loki has risen, the gods are dying, and nothing is as it was supposed to be.”

  Eleni was stunned. “How?”

  “After the fire, Anja ran away with you inside of her. She was supposed to give you to Perun. He was supposed to kill you. And then we were supposed to cut his thread forever.” Danai stepped toward her. “You were never meant to survive.”

  “Then why doesn't someone just kill me?” said Eleni. “End this. If I was never meant to survive, my death will fix everything.”

  “No,” said Danai. “Now you are the only one that can make it right. If you die now, it means the end of everything. Loki will bring Ragnarok and this world will descend into permanent chaos. You have to stop him. You have to stop everything. And then you have to die.”

  “What?”

  “Your thread is entwined with that of Loki now. When the Fates become Three again, we will cut Loki's thread. I believe when that happens, your thread will also be cut. I'm sorry. There is no way around it.”

 

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