Winner Takes All (Were Witch Book 9)

by Renée Jaggér

  She understood and said so. It didn’t sound too different from when she’d had to present herself as a leader before large numbers of Weres and witches.

  Loki swept his hand toward the portal with an elaborate, almost swishy gesture. “Very well. After you, my dear.”

  She stepped through, ignoring the typical brief instant of dizzying cold, and her foot came down on the marble pavement that lined the streets of the city of the gods.

  “Wow,” she murmured. Loki came out behind her, closed the portal, and allowed her a couple of seconds to take in the sights.

  All around them was an airy blue void filled with fast-moving white clouds and bright light that refracted into rainbows against the gleaming surfaces. The city had been built upon the broad, mostly flat top of a mountain, and beyond the main metropolitan area was an island that floated in the sky at a higher level than the rest of the city. There lay the palace of the gods.

  Loki took her by the shoulder and led her down the broad avenues as tall, handsome people in strange bright clothes looked her over. Since she was with Loki, they paid little heed to her beyond the first glance.

  “In truth,” the trickster-god began, “you should have been introduced here sooner. You have every right to a place here, after all.”

  She glanced around as they walked. In addition to the white marble pavement, there were buildings, domes, and spires of gold and silver, the style sometimes reminiscent of Viking longhouses or tall and narrow Norwegian stave churches, sometimes structures that had no earthly equivalents. The aesthetic was Old Norse, but ten times more grand and glamorous.

  She turned her head to Loki. “Question. The council chamber…is that located here? In Asgard, I mean. I was only ever in the main chamber or the hallway leading up to it, so I never saw much of where it was if that makes sense.”

  Loki nodded. “It lies in Asgard, though distant from this point, near the far upper edge of the domain, where Asgard starts to blend in with other of the ‘higher’ realms. The city is located at the approximate center. The borders of the realms of the monstrous peoples lie at the lower edges, near the base of the great mountain.”

  That makes sense, she thought. Mostly. The stuff about “edges” is weird, but not everyplace works the same way as Earth.

  The broad marble avenues soon led them to a stone arch with warrior statues on either side. The arch lay at the edge of the mountaintop, and below was nothing but a sea of clouds, denser than the ones higher in the sky.

  A causeway led to the floating palace, made of what looked like pure, condensed, multicolored light. Bailey stared at it in wonder.

  “Bifröst,” Loki announced, “the Rainbow Bridge. It will more than support our weight, don’t worry.” He stepped onto the curved mass of light.

  Bailey did likewise. Though she’d flown magically through the air, it was strangely uncomfortable to walk on a translucent surface, looking down between her feet to see nothing whatsoever beneath her. But the bridge held, and its surface seemed “magnetic” in that it exerted a mild pull on her feet with each step, likely to ensure no one fell off.

  Halfway across the span, four guardsmen emerged from the gate to the floating palace complex to greet them.

  “Hail, Loki,” their apparent leader opened. “All is well and secure. If we might ask, is this Bailey Nordin with you?” He looked at the girl with an open, neutral expression.

  “Yes,” said the black-haired man.

  Bailey waved. “Hi. I’m standing in for Freya, at least for the time being. But I’m guessing you heard that.”

  The man bowed briefly, then he and the others turned to escort them through the gates. They wore armor that looked like it was made of stainless steel and polished gold, though she imagined it was a stronger, divine material. They carried partizan spears and short Viking-style swords at their sides, and sky-blue cloaks trailed behind them in the cool breeze.

  Once they passed through the gates, Bailey realized that the central structure upon the floating island was more of a walled complex than a single building, much like the castle at the training grounds, though again, the architecture here was a fantasy or science-fiction extrapolation of traditional Scandinavian styles.

  Loki waved a hand to the guardsmen to indicate that the two deities would be fine on their own; they nodded and returned to their posts. Then the trickster god took Bailey into a shadowed corner off one of the main avenues, behind an outbuilding of white stone.

  He flicked his hand, and a shimmering curtain surrounded them. “There,” he quipped. “We’ll look like common attendants to any but the most prying eyes, and no one will be able to hear us speak.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “So, uh, is Odin still in charge? I know he’s traditionally the king of Asgard, but you guys have barely mentioned him.”

  Loki smiled. “I was getting to that. You’re quite inquisitive, aren’t you? But yes, Odin reigns, and yet does not reign at the moment. Therein lies the problem.”

  Feet tramped by, and Bailey glanced toward them. It was only a pair of soldiers followed by four servants carrying two barrels, perhaps of mead, between them. She relaxed. Scenes from the awful hologram of Fenris killing Balder, or so he thought, while Carl looked on and sneered, kept flashing in her mind, and robbing her of her ability to trust her surroundings.

  Loki went on. “The All-Father, at this point in time, rests in the Odin-Sleep. Frigga, his wife, watches over him. They are not present. Thor is the designated heir, but he is not yet ready to assume sovereignty over our realms, so Asgard has no sitting ruler. The throne room within the palace lies empty, and it is there that Fenris likely waits even now.”

  The girl squinted in confusion. “No one’s there to stop him? And nobody thinks it’s suspicious that he’s prowling around in Odin’s place?”

  The god of mischief shrugged. “The one who sits on the throne is the important thing. Otherwise, it is merely a chair within a room. The place is ignored when not occupied by its king. Besides, everyone is distracted by the frequent attacks on our borders, which of course, Fenris himself organized.”

  Loki’s face fell and his eyes darkened. “But there is one other purpose that the throne room is capable of serving. It can act as a ritual chamber, and Fenris is likely preparing his little ceremony there, but it’s not the time to interrupt him. Soon, but not today. We are here on other business. Follow me. What we seek lies within that courtyard over yonder.”

  He led her down the shining avenue, around a corner, and through a smaller stone arch into a square with a great tree and a fountain at its center. Otherwise, it was carpeted with emerald grass, and friezes depicting scenes from heroic battles adorned the walls.

  She estimated it spanned about six acres. It seemed enormous and made her wonder how big the rest of the palace was.

  However, she wasn’t sure what Loki wanted her to see.

  The answer came without delay. Her companion raised his slender hands and announced something in what she supposed was Old Norse or a secret language of the gods, yet it registered in her brain as “Knights of the Grand Legion of Asgard, assemble!”

  At once, the courtyard was flooded with an overwhelming cascade of white light, which scattered into streams of rainbow as it struck glass, stone, wood, or the water of the central fountain. As a handy side effect of her newfound divinity, Bailey could mostly look at it, but she still turned her head half away and squeezed her eyes partially shut.

  When the light cleared, the courtyard was brimming with armored warriors, lined up and ready for battle.

  Loki turned to the girl. “I am placing them under your command. We have an incursion to deal with; the frost trolls are once again plaguing the lower slopes of our mountain. Their leader, King Imrit, has assembled a vast host, possibly strong enough to breach our defenses.”

  Gawking, the girl nodded and stared at her new army.

  The men were almost identical to one another, and they resembled Balder, she thought, though
they were somewhat less radiantly beautiful, and red or golden beards adorned their chins. Their armor was much like that of the guards on Bifröst, shining steel and silver, and they all carried long lances, partizans, or halberds, as well as short swords and round, gold-rimmed shields. The capes they wore were crimson rather than blue. She guessed this was to indicate that they were a military rather than a police force.

  Loki addressed the soldiers. “Bailey Nordin is the newly-ascended goddess of sorcery and werewolves. She sits upon the seat which formerly belonged to Lady Freya, warming it as its steward, as we of the council agreed to. Obey Bailey as you would obey Freya. Follow her lead and trust her judgment, for she has commanded successful expeditions before. Furthermore, as a pupil of Fenris the Wolf-Father, she is well-versed in magic and esoterica. Thus she has the blessings of the full pantheon.”

  Before Bailey could ask about that, Loki added to her in a low voice, “What you learned last night is not yet public knowledge, nor does it need to be—yet. The time will come soon.”

  So, she surmised, the general populace here doesn’t know the truth about Fenris yet. That’s probably another reason why no one stopped him from going into the throne room.

  “They will follow you,” Loki continued, “even unto the final battle, when, or should we say if, that comes to pass. Do not fear to use their courage and strength, but hold their lives as valuable all the same, like you have in the past with your own people.”

  The werewitch put her hands on her hips. “I understand. Will do.”

  The god of mischief went on, addressing both her and the Asgardian Army. “The frost trolls have made our existence more difficult with their ill-planned harrying strikes, and it seems that now they’ve amassed a gigantic host for a full assault upon the realm’s borders, seeking to break through and overrun our capital. The hour in which we stop them once and for all is nigh.”

  Bailey told the troops, “I’ve fought the frost trolls before. It was just Fenris and me, and we made short work of the bastards. With all you men at my side, I’m sure we can handle them. I’ll give you general instructions, but I’ll otherwise assume you can fight without being micromanaged. I will provide the heaviest offense to soften them up at the start.”

  Loki touched her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “We must repel this attack, of course, but by sending you against the trolls, Fenris will continue to assume that you’re not aware of his plot. Go! And good luck.”

  “Noted. And thanks.”

  It occurred to her that she felt somehow faster and that her understanding of magic had deepened. The power she’d drawn from King Gormyr must have settled within her.

  Loki opened a portal wide enough for five men abreast and motioned for Bailey to go through first. Sucking in her breath, she did, and the soldiers of Asgard marched through behind her.

  The locale into which they emerged looked familiar; it was the same broad snowy plain narrowing behind her as it ascended into a mountain pass where she and Fenris had teleported before. Up ahead lay the dense forest where the frost trolls had gathered before their prior attacks. Fat snowflakes drifted down from the clear sky.

  This time, the enemy army was assembled. Half the plain was covered by a dense mass of hulking humanoid bodies, grunting and waving their clubs and crude swords and axes in the air. Bailey and the divine army had caught the trolls mere moments before they’d launch their invasion.

  Their numbers were far greater than what she and Fenris had faced previously, thousands rather than hundreds. The rear echelons stretched beyond the plain and into the woods. For all she knew, the entire forest might have been packed, every available space between the trees filled with trolls.

  She raised her arm and bellowed, “Get ready!” She herself wasted no time.

  Bailey pointed at the horde, which had perked up and started to howl upon noticing her and the Asgardians. A nuclear explosion went off, front and center of the host. Bailey immediately conjured a powerful shield in front of her, keeping the effects of the blast from harming her allies.

  The destruction it wrought on the trolls was terrifying. A high dome, virtually a column, of blazing light ascended into the sky, along with a roar that shook the earth. Smoke and debris spread out to the sides. An entire third of the troll army, or at least the portion visible on the treeless plain, had been vaporized, leaving only blackened earth behind. Snow by the edges of the blast radius melted and turned the scorched ground to mud.

  Bailey produced her sword. She did not fully understand how, but she had bonded to the weapon in such a way that it came to her whenever she commanded it to, regardless of where it had last been left. She raised it over her head.

  “Charge!” she screamed.

  She and the trolls did exactly as she’d said, barreling toward one another at top speed. When she looked back over her shoulder, she saw the Asgardian troops advancing, though at a trot rather than a sprint. Furthermore, instead of plunging straight ahead, they moved sidelong toward an elevated position where boulders and the foothills of the nearby mountain covered part of their right flank and rear. Then they assumed a phalanx formation.

  Good for them, Bailey thought. They’re the smart type of warriors. Isn’t that a Greek formation, though? Whatever. I probably should have hung back and waited for them.

  But there was no time to change her mind.

  She crashed into the first dozen trolls, blowing half of them into the air with a burst of sonic, kinetic, and electrical force that broke most of their bones and liquefied their brains. Then she darted about, zig-zagging between them, jumping over their heads or ducking under their weapons while she slashed.

  Her movements were frenzied yet controlled. The enchanted blade cleaved through limbs and organs, and she conjured enough shield matter around her to deflect most of the force of their powerful blows, knocking them off-balance if they struck the arcane barriers. Then they became easy prey.

  As trolls died around the girl, she spared a quick look at her allies. They’d drawn off half or more of the monstrous host and were fighting defensively against the undisciplined charge of the creatures. Their long polearms stabbed knees and hearts, felling the majority of the trolls before they could get in range to smash at the Asgardians with their brutish weaponry.

  Bailey dashed to the side, seeking to fight her way back to the troops. It was better for them not to be divided. She blasted a cluster of trolls away from her, then concentrated and threw her sword laterally so it spun like a buzzsaw through the monsters’ ranks, killing twenty of them before burying itself in the snow near the phalanx.

  She shifted into wolf form, allowing herself to swell to full size so she was as big as the trolls. She could magically reconstitute her dress clothes later. In the heat of battle, she had more pressing things to worry about.

  Bounding at the full speed of a beast of the woods, she tore through the already-shaky lines of her foes, shouldering some aside, slashing them with her claws or ripping out throats or hamstrings as needed. Axes and clubs struck at her from the sides, but her shields were still up, and the mightiest of their blows only knocked her slightly off-course.

  Seconds later, she stood before her sword. The girl shifted back to human form and retrieved it, conjuring a decent replica of her former outfit as she drew it from the snow.

  One of the soldiers, probably an officer, stepped forth. “Lady Bailey, are you all right? What orders next? They’ll be upon us again in a heart’s beat.”

  It was true. Though they’d devastated huge numbers of the beasts, thousands remained, and they were closing in, snarling and furious.

  “I’m fine,” she answered the lieutenant. “We’ll hold off the next charge, then we need to go on the offensive. I’ll hit them with everything I have magically and break up their lines. You guys follow me and finish off the stragglers.”

  The officer nodded. “As you wish.”

  Another wave of trolls piled toward them, kicking up the mud from the ear
lier explosion combined with meltwater. Once they reached the deep snow again, Bailey raised all of it in a white rushing cloud, melting it further and driving the beasts back on a torrent of water that thickened with mud as it flowed over the barren patch.

  Then she clenched her fist, freezing it all solid. Some trolls were trapped within the ice and died quickly. Others were stuck half-in and were easy prey for the lances of the Asgardian soldiers. The phalanx advanced.

  More trolls streamed out of the woods. Aside from the piles of scattered bodies, it was as though Bailey’s force had barely made a dent in their numbers.

  She hoisted her sword, using it to channel all manner of destructive spells, and bolted ahead. She tried to keep from outdistancing her men too far but nonetheless worked gradually ahead of them, cleaving and blasting left and right, wreaking havoc and dividing the enemy.

  The werewitch didn’t stop to kill the wounded or disoriented, leaving that to her troops. Soon, the field was clear of living adversaries. Many still hovered around the edge of the field or regrouped in the shadows of the trees.

  Bailey caught her breath, wiping sweat from her face and blood from her sword.

  Most of the trolls had withdrawn, but they had not retreated. They were rallying, tightening their formation around a central point beyond the edge of the forest. Bailey cut through two more of the stragglers to get closer, then jumped into the air and floated fifty feet above the battle to see what was going on.

  The frost trolls’ king, Imrit, had taken the field, emerging from the trees. He was the biggest of them all, and his presence had instilled renewed confidence in his warriors. Not to mention he was giving them orders, forcing them to obey simple tactics instead of fighting as a mass of individual berserkers.

  Worse still, trolls from the rear guard were pushing forward contraptions that Bailey recognized as catapults. They were so crudely-built that she’d almost mistaken them for totemic idols, but they had counterweighted arms and were loaded with odd bluish projectiles.