“Why wouldn’t they put him deep underground?” I mused, glancing back at the building, and wondering what the best play was. “That way he couldn’t escape even if he did break free of whatever chains they have on him.”
Loki turned to look at me. “Because then they would have to find a way to get him out of the hole when they want to use him.”
I shuddered at the thought of anyone using Fenrir for their own benefit, but there really wasn’t any other reason to keep him prisoner.
Direct frontal assault didn’t sound promising unless we were willing to put on our Horseman Masks. But I’d already cautioned against that, because we didn’t know who actually ran this place, and we now had kids with us. What if it was the Vatican, for example?
I had no problem picking a fight, but I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted rumors spreading that four Horsemen had helped Loki save his son from a prison. Because it wouldn’t take long for the truth to disappear and a new rumor to emerge with minor manipulations to the facts.
Loki commands the Biblical Four Horseman to destroy a Vatican Church. The Apocalypse is nigh!
We could be turning the entire world against us by putting on our Masks. War had instantly agreed, saying that the Masks were always to be used as a last resort. Abuse their power, and they could lose their power, he’d said—which was news to me on an official level, but it made perfect sense on a conceptual level. The Masks were special and powerful precisely because they were limited and rare. Abusing any sort of magic had consequences, because magic was very particular in how it wanted to be used. It was why some wizards turned warlock—becoming addicted to magic, and slaves to their own power.
Not following the unknown rules was what had almost broken my Mask in the first place. My Mask had wanted its siblings, and when I hadn’t helped facilitate that, it decided to just break on me.
Similarly, if I started walking around and picking fights with every enemy of mine while wearing my Mask, pretty soon, everyone would unite against me, collectively saying fuck this guy.
Because I would be abusing my power unnecessarily.
No different than a thug waving a cocked and loaded pistol in his fist everywhere he went.
Using it irresponsibly would create an arms race, and every supernatural entity would start using their strongest weapons for the mildest of offenses.
Which was one reason gods didn’t too often involve themselves in mortal affairs. Because then the other gods would. And then the demons and angels would start measuring their haloes and horns.
Not knowing what else to do as the world turned insane, the Regulars would then start playing with their nuclear weapons.
Mutually assured destruction.
I glanced at Carl, wondering if that was what had happened to his people, why everyone had teamed up against them.
“What kind of strengths do you have, Loki? Other than illusion, of course,” I finally said.
He stared out at the valley, thinking. “I can take a beating like any other god, but I’m essentially just a strong wizard. Illusion can be more useful than you know…”
“Dramatic suspense isn’t necessary. Spill.”
He waved a hand over us, and I saw a faint shimmer to the air, almost like a heat wave. “There. Now, if there’s anything you’ve really wanted to do, but have always been too shy to try, tonight is your chance to let it all out.”
We all stared at him blankly. “That sounded like an inappropriate invitation,” War muttered unhappily.
Loki rolled his eyes. “You won’t be able to notice when looking at each other, but they won’t be able to identify who you really are,” he said, pointing down below. “I made you all look different. It will only last a few hours, though.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How did you make us look, Loki? Because this seems like an excellent way to cause some trouble, especially if we can’t see what you did.”
War nodded, glaring at Loki. “What if we are all women?”
Loki chuckled. “Oh don’t be so dramatic. It’s just so we can get away scot-free, and not implicate ourselves in this…dubious endeavor.”
Gunnar looked thoughtful, leaning towards agreeability, but the rest looked concerned.
“Who did you make us look like, Loki?” I growled.
“Spoilsports,” he complained. “I simply made you look like—”
Fenrir suddenly let out a loud, mournful howl and the concrete slabs rocked at a sudden thump that made dust fall from the edges. Runes suddenly flared to life all across the surface, glowing with yellow light. The guards and gargoyles didn’t even glance up at Fenrir’s tantrum, though. Those nearby even shouted out taunts at him.
Gunnar snarled, desperately grasping his claws at thin air as mist wolves suddenly zipped down into the valley towards a whistling archer patrolling the woods. Gunnar spun to me with one crazy eye. “Do something!”
“I told you this was a bad idea!” I growled.
But Gunnar had already hurdled down the hill, shifting into his vanilla mountain wolf form so as to have better chances at moving stealthily—making himself a smaller target. Unless Loki’s illusion made that pointless.
“I guess we have our plan,” Alucard muttered. “Nice knowing you guys. Let’s take out as many as we can.”
Chapter 41
Per Gunnar’s request, there wasn’t much I could do that wouldn’t bring every single guard down on our location, which was the exact opposite of where I wanted them looking.
“I need to draw them away from the pups,” I said, thinking out loud. I scanned the valley, hoping that no one called out an alarm—
I smiled at a sudden thought. I needed them to call out an alarm. “Stay here and let me know if anything else goes against our favor.”
I ran down the backside of the hill, out of sight from the valley, and far enough away that I didn’t think the wizards below would sense me. Then I made a Gateway that opened up beyond the lip of the ridge across from my friends. I took a deep breath and drew in my magic, hurling a unique blast of air through the Gateway before closing it.
A concussive blast on the opposite side of the valley went off like a bundle of dynamite, echoing for miles. I heard men suddenly shouting, followed by the sound of automatic fire.
I made another Gateway, but this one opened up a hundred feet away from the first. This time I sent three of the concussive blasts through, followed by bolts of lightning to ignite a stand of trees. Flames roared to life, but I hurled a few more fireballs through for good measure. Then I remembered something Alice had done on my mountain in Fae, and I smiled.
I switched to my Fae magic, calling out to the snow. “I need your help,” I said. Then, remembering that Loki had changed our appearances, I firmly imagining the auras of everyone in my crew—including the pups—in my head. I hurriedly formed the snow into a dozen snowmen with long arms, and foot-long spikes all over their bodies. I froze their exterior for armor and then let out a breath. “You have free reign for the next hour. Attack everyone but my team. And don’t be afraid to make new friends,” I said, grinning.
I watched as three rows of snowmen slowly rose up behind them, picking up branches and rocks—either for armor or weapons. Then they split up into two groups, a dozen of them staying behind to make more snow demons.
“Thank you, and I hope you have fun with this.” They nodded back in perfect unison. Then I closed the Gateway with a dark smile.
I made three more Gateways in rapid succession, spacing them out and alternating between fire and lightning, but I always threw the concussive blasts of air.
My knees shook and I realized I’d used quite a bit of power in a relatively short time. And we hadn’t even gotten to Fenrir yet. I shambled back up the hill to see Alucard shaking his head in awe. “Was that you?” he demanded. “The snowmen?”
I nodded, crouching low to witness the results of my hard work.
The opposite ridgeline was completely ablaze—the trees sending up thick, d
ark smoke as they burned from my lightning and fire. Automatic gunfire filled the air, the majority of the guards forming a line to shoot at the dozens of snowmen now zipping down into the valley like figure skaters. Bullets cracked their skin and tore through them, but they simply tackled their foes in spiky embraces.
The gargoyles had congregated above like a dark cloud, and were dive-bombing them, their skin too hard to be concerned about icicles.
The wizards began hurling balls of fire at anything that moved, more often than not catching the trees in the valley on fire. It was pandemonium, but I knew it wouldn’t last long.
The concrete slabs on the compound rattled and quaked, blazing with light as Fenrir howled and barked loud enough to make me shudder, knowing we were about to see him up close and personal.
How the hell were we going to break him out?
I knew the snowmen would only hold them off for so long before the wizards did something to really keep them busy—like making the ground too hot for snow.
I turned to Loki. “We need to get him out, now. Do you have any idea how to open those doors?”
“No, but they’re powerful. I didn’t get a close look last time, but I’m guessing they’re from our Vanir brethren.” He surveyed the chaos below. “I know it was necessary, but with all this insanity, how the hell do you expect me to control him? Listen!” he snapped angrily. “He’s losing his mind in there!”
He wasn’t wrong. The whole building seemed to vibrate with his howl, and rock when he struck the door.
“I don’t want you to control him, Loki,” I reminded him, motioning everyone to follow me. “I want to let him loose.”
Loki stared at me with a wary look on his face. I ran down the hill towards the concrete doors, trying to think of any possible way to open them. I doubted it would be as simple as pushing a button on the inside either, or I would have simply blown a hole through the wall. The door was operated by magic, so I was betting that Fenrir was surrounded by magic on all sides.
And magic didn’t work by pressing a button. Thanks to the mayhem I’d caused, we made it to the door without anyone noticing us, but I knew that could change in an instant. All it would take was one gargoyle to look over his shoulder.
“War, watch our backs. We need to get Gunnar and the pups over here or out of here.” He nodded, leaning up against the wall of the building to peer around the corner.
Alucard frowned. “Well, if he’s not colorblind, all he has to do is find the only person wearing pink,” he said, pointing at Carl.
I turned to stare at the two of them, frowning. I actually didn’t know the answer to that. I was pretty sure Gunnar could see colors when in wolf form, but how the hell would I know?
“Carl, can you jump up and down and wave your arms?”
He nodded, and I realized he was shivering. His scales even had a dull blue color to them, and he was moving slower than normal. Not alarmingly slow, but it was noticeable.
Maybe the jumping jacks would keep him warm.
Loki lifted his hands, preparing to use some kind of magic to attack the door, so I quickly slapped his hands down. He spun, his face furious. “We don’t have time to waste, Nate.”
“We also only have one chance. Once we start attacking the door, a wizard is going to sense it and wonder what the fuck is going on back here.”
He frowned, turning to study the door more closely. Finally, he nodded. “I’m almost positive this is old Vanir magic. But without knowing the right runes, or the right sequences…”
Shit. The only people who I personally knew with the knowledge of Seiðr magic was Freya and Odin. Which meant our only other option was to overwhelm it with an unhealthy amount of magic and hope we could short it out—like an electric circuit breaker.
And that was what you called courting death—because magic didn’t like to mix, so you never knew what kind of reaction you might get for attempting such a thing.
But it was all we had.
“Power,” I told him. “We need more power.” I ran through my inventory of magic, trying to think of something that was a big one-shot strike. Even my Horseman’s magic might not necessarily help. As far as I knew, the Mask merely gave me advanced combat abilities
I’d repaired the Bifröst, but that had been with the help of friends and some ingredients to power it up, and it hadn’t been a one-shot strike of any kind. It had been creating something.
Here, it was just me, and I needed to destroy something. We were all heavyweights, but none of us had a nuclear button. Well, Carl did, but his lips were sewn shut—and his voice was part of his destructive power.
Carl continued to jump up and down, and I saw three wolves headed our way, hunkering low in hopes they wouldn’t be spotted. They were covered in blood—all three of them. I pushed down my instant panic, hoping that none of it was theirs, and fearing to ask why the pups weren’t misty anymore.
Carl stopped jumping, pointing for us to see.
I nodded. “Carl, can you do anything to blast this open?”
Carl shook his head as Alucard said, “He needs his voice to help.” Just like I’d thought.
“Loki, anything?” I asked.
He shook his head. “We’re just going to have to throw everything we have at it and hope for the best. It’s going to get chaotic when they realize what we’re doing, so someone needs to watch our backs while we work.”
I saw Alucard nod grimly, turning to face War.
I stared at Alucard and then Carl. Alu-Carl…
The flashlight guy and the extreme-sun-tanning lizard.
And a strange thought came to mind. “Hey, Alucard. You get powered up by sunlight…”
“Yes, but that’s not much help right now,” he said pointing up at the dark sky. “Even if you did that Gateway thing on me again and found a sunrise halfway around the world, I doubt it will be strong enough to make a difference on this door. On them, sure,” he said pointing at the guards around the corner.
I held up a finger, telling him to wait. Then I turned to Carl. “What about your sun? From back home?” I asked, remembering that Carl had said it would burn us alive. “Do you think Alucard could handle it?”
War shot me a horrified look, hearing my suggestion.
Alucard stared at Carl, and a smile slowly stretched across his cheeks. Carl nodded at me.
“Do you know when the sun is up?” I asked him, remembering that it had been on the other side of the mountain when we were there—sometime before dawn in St. Louis.
Carl shook his head.
But Alucard suddenly looked hopeful. “He doesn’t know when it rises, but he did say that one of their days is roughly three of ours.”
I let out a nervous breath. That meant the sun might be shining down on the valley with the waterfall. “Worth a shot. You want to try it?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t signing his death warrant.
Gunnar and the pups skidded to a halt, and I saw that they were all staring at the door anxiously. Fenrir was growling ominously, but it no longer seemed to be directed at the distant fighting. It was directed at us—a warning growl. He could hear us.
“We’re here to get you out, son,” Loki said, his voice suddenly emotional. He reached his hand up to the door, as if he thought Fenrir might be able to sense it. “Please don’t eat us.” His hand was only an inch away, now. “I want to try and make up for—”
The exact second his skin touched the stone, wild arcs of lightning shot down from each corner of the door and struck Loki in the chest.
He flew into the snowbank as if he had been hit by a truck. And the perimeter lights on the roof all turned red as an alarm Klaxon began to wail. I flung a blast of fire up at the nearest speaker, obliterating it and muting the noise—but the speakers on the other sides of the building continued.
There went the element of surprise, ruined by Loki’s first stab at redemption. If I had been the superstitious type, I would have taken it as a sign that Fenrir was not that interested in rep
airing their father-son relationship. But I wasn’t here about that. I just needed to get him as far away from Odin—or anyone else who wanted to weaponize him—as possible.
“Let’s do it,” Alucard growled. “I can take it.”
War glanced back. “They’re coming!”
Chapter 42
I motioned Alucard to step to the side so that if this crazy plan worked, he would hit the door at an angle rather than blasting the concrete slabs directly into Fenrir’s face.
Loki ran up to us, his hair sticking straight up, and a hole burned in the center of his team shirt. He shook the snow off his everywhere as he stared at the door with a glare. “What did I miss?”
I pointed at the corner where the guards were heading our way. “Help them out. There’s nothing you can do here.” He gritted his teeth unhappily, but it was true. If I wasn’t making the Gateway, I’d be over there helping as well. He jogged over to War and the two spoke in low tones.
I turned back to Alucard and pointed out the joint where the two slabs of concrete met. “That’s the weakest point, Alucard. Throw everything you’ve got at it. No pulling back.” He nodded. “You have to let me know when to close the Gateway. Absorb as much as you can handle, but don’t die to prove a point,” I told him urgently, trying to ignore the shrieking gargoyles and shouting heading our way.
He nodded, excitedly. “This is either going to suck or be the best moment of my life,” he said, staring at the magic door.
Carl and War stood side-by-side with swords in hand, waiting for the enemy to round the corner. Loki stood back a ways and was staring intently up in the air. Probably making illusions of some kind—subtle things that would keep the enemy occupied while the others hacked them to pieces. Gunnar and the pups stood behind them, looking torn on whether or not to help with Fenrir or the impending attack.
I only had one shot at this, because we hadn’t gone exploring in Carl’s homeland, so the only place I knew well enough to make a Gateway was the cliffs with the waterfall outside the Temple Cavern.
Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13 Page 25
