Wolfsbane

by M. H. Bonham

  After taking out my first Orc, the other Orcs looked for easier targets. The Frost Giants seemed particularly interested in my glowing blade, so I found myself fighting against ten-foot-tall IBM blue men. They were vicious too, splattering Orcs as they made their way towards me.

  Elryn fought beside me, fierce joy glowing from her face. Her lips curled upward in a primeval snarl. I noticed that Duncan had somehow reappeared next to me with the blonde Valkyrie fighting alongside him. I was stunned to see how good he was with a knife, albeit a long one. He took out several Orcs and a Frost Giant before one of them slashed open his arm. His police vest had turned the blades with ease. The Valkyrie screamed something in Old Norse as a battle-cry and tore through the Jotunn like a flame through dry tinder, seeing her newest interest wounded.

  Suddenly a roar echoed through Valhalla. Everyone stopped for a split second to see Tuzren growing in size and knocking off goblins like they were fleas. His roar would’ve made Godzilla’s voice sound anemic. And just that abruptly, everyone in the massive hall decided it was time to take out Demon-zilla.

  With the exception of me, Elryn, and Duncan and his new Valkyrie friend. To my surprise, Nana and Li’alla appeared next to us, both wielding short swords similar to Elryn’s blade. Nana casted fireballs and lightning throughout the hall and Li’alla cut down whoever tried to take on my very deadly grandmother. Li’alla sometimes threw magic, but more often than not, she was happy to do the cutting.

  Tuzren roared again, practically deafening me as archers lined up to make him into a demonic pincushion. Only along with his growth, his skin apparently toughened to the consistency of dragon hide and the arrows simply snapped off. Those few that actually stuck looked fairly shallow in his skin. When there were enough to annoy him, he’d brush them off like a person brushing off lint.

  I stuck close to Tuzren not only because he was good at taking fire, but also because he was cutting a path through the Einherjar. Elryn and Duncan noticed too and stayed close to us both. The crowd parted and I was able to conjure a strong shield that kept most of the weapons away from Duncan and me. Elryn had her own shield up, and the Valkyrie didn’t seem to need one.

  In between all of this, the bouncer I had knocked out and Nana sent to Eir’s came storming back, pissed as hell. He came charging in and immediately attacked Tuzren, who sent him sailing across the mead hall with a single slap. He landed in a group of Ulfhednar, also known as werewolves, who had just shifted. The weres tore into him.

  “Come on, guys, I think we overstayed our welcome!” I shouted, but if Tuzren or any of the others heard, they ignored me. Typical. I tried to remember a spell from Wizardry Today that simulated a flash-bang, but my brain was too addled from the mead and the fighting. Then, I tried to remember how to open a Gateway, but again, I must have been drunker than I thought.

  That’s when the real wizards brought out their serious guns.

  Chapter Three

  In retrospect, I should’ve figured some wizards would end up in Valhalla. Nevertheless it surprised me to see a mega fireball being launched towards us. The massive fireball hit Tuzren square in the back, igniting all the arrows sticking out of him. He whirled around like a demonic porcupine from Hell and roared. Fire issued from his mouth and he sent a column of flames towards his attackers.

  I got a brief look at the wizards who thought it’d be a great idea to piss off a 15-foot-high demon. There were at least three that I counted who were dressed like they had entered a Merlin lookalike contest. I shit you not: they had the robes, conical hats, and even the wizard staffs. Or maybe they thought they should look like the cast from Harry Potter? I don’t know. But even a mega-fireball was pretty lame. I expected to see something really cool, like purple-black lightning—like the type the Sith lords wield. Or maybe shout “Fuego!” and bring a firestorm down on us like that wizard in Chicago does. Whatever. Even the fire and ice whips from that wizard/Horseman/Fae/whatever-the-hell-he-is-now would’ve been impressive. But no, we get a fireball that even I could conjure up.

  Some people’s kids.

  Anyway, their shields blocked Tuzren’s fire. The fire smacked the shield right in the middle and dispersed across the shield in multicolored flames. They looked incredibly smug and patted themselves on the back, obviously causing their own shoulder injuries.

  I was going to shout something rude to them about their apparent lack of ability, but then the three wizards started chanting and another huge fireball grew between their outstretched hands. I frowned and waved them off. “Well, fuck that! Why don’t you guys chill?”

  Until recently, I always thought I had to use focus words to do proper magic. Those focus words were in Latin, although I had learned a few focus words in Elvish from Elryn. But that was before I met Nana and Li’alla, who taught me that Fae magic doesn’t need such silliness. I still preferred to use focus words, at least until I got a better hang of casting spells without using them during practice, but somehow, I had put some will into my words and to my shock, frozen air issued from my fingers and hit the wizards’ shield.

  The ice encased the shield and it shattered.

  Then, my magic hit them full force. The wizards became mage-cicles. Or wiz-cicles.

  I lowered my hands to appreciate the beauty. Not only were the three Merlins encased in ice, but their fireball was enclosed in ice as well. The flames froze solid where the ice covered them, making it look like the ice had LED bulbs that changed colors inside it. Everyone except those of us around Tuzren had turned to ice as well.

  In fact, the whole freaking mead hall that was Valhalla turned into one gigantic Popsicle.

  What little fighting was left stopped as we all stared at my handiwork. My magic froze ancient warriors in mid-swing, whether it was their fists, swords, axes, or clubs. Modern day soldiers stood frozen, whether aiming weapons, firing their guns, or using flame throwers. Grenades and bullets hung suspended in mid-air, as if I had stopped time, itself.

  “Wow.” Tuzren was the first to break the silence. He shrunk down to his normal size and flew up to my shoulder. “Did you do that? That is freaking awesome, man!”

  “Dude, you just froze Valhalla,” Duncan said, staring at me. “That’s like, really powerful.”

  “What the Hel did you do?” Elryn puffed out a cloud of mist as she spoke.

  I blinked. “I told everyone to chill the fuck out.”

  Our “enemies” didn’t exactly drop their weapons, but they turned and stared at the icy Einherjar in shock. Once of the remaining Orcs shook his head and walked away. The others followed.

  Then we all heard someone slowly clapping. “Bravo! I couldn’t have predicted that, myself.”

  We all turned. We saw Loki seated on top of a frozen ogre, clapping his hands slowly and grinning widely. I glared, feeling suddenly sober. “Did you enhance my magic or something?”

  “Oh no, I’d never do that.” Loki shifted on the ogre’s head, trying to get comfortable. “But I must say, your magic is quite impressive.” He paused and considered me thoughtfully. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  I glanced at Elryn, who shrugged. I turned to the god of mischief and chaos. “Most people call me Ironspell.”

  “Ironspell…” He repeated the name slowly as though he was trying to recall the name, or had already done so and it just confirmed his suspicions. “You’re related to the Drow, aren’t you?”

  I winced. “I have a Dark Elf ancestor, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Nice, then you must be Evrardin’s kid.” Loki paused in consideration. “But you’re not Einherjar.”

  “No, I’m not dead, yet.”

  “I’m getting better…” Loki grinned. “Dude that was quite a show. I couldn’t have caused more mischief if I had tried. Bravo!”

  “Thanks, I think.” I frowned. “Did I kill them?”

  “Dude, we’re in Valhalla. Nobody dies here—except Baldr. But that’s because he’s such a prick. Everyone here, dead or alive, comes back.
”

  I stared at the god. I recalled the story how Frigg, Odin’s wife made every creature and thing promise to not harm Baldr, her and Odin’s most beautiful son. The gods took turns throwing things at Baldr in a game, seeing swords turn aside, rocks fall before they hit, and arrow snap themselves. Loki, being the troublemaker, asked Frigg if she made everything promise to not hurt the fair god. She replied that she had gotten an oath from everything except the mistletoe, because it was such a harmless plant. Naturally Loki created a dart from mistletoe and even had Baldr’s blind brother, Hodr, throw it with Loki’s help. The mistletoe struck Baldr dead.

  Now, I couldn’t see why Baldr wouldn’t just show up in Valhalla, seeing he was killed by a weapon, but the story goes that Baldr goes to Helheim—the pocket universe of the dead who didn’t die in battle. Not the nasty Christian Hell, it was more or less a place of rest.

  With Loki here, I had to assume Baldr was still alive. Hopefully, I hadn’t froze him. That would put me in real trouble with Odin, but I didn’t think my magic would work on gods.

  “Who did this?” came a stern voice from behind us. “Was it you, Loki?”

  I turned and saw an old man with a white beard and a gray cloak walk towards us. He would’ve been a spitting image of Gandalf the Grey except he had only one eye. Where the other eye had been was only a blacken eye socket, which looked incredibly gross and gave me the willies, even if I won’t admit it to anyone. The god crackled with power, which was scary as well.

  Yeah, that unassuming wanderer was a god. And that god was the All-Father known as Odin.

  “Nope, wasn’t me.” Loki announced with glee and pointed at me. “It was him.”

  Asshole.

  Odin turned to me with a gimlet eye. “It was this mage?”

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it.” I couldn’t imagine Loki looking any happier to pin this mess on me, but he did. “And he did it fucking drunk!” He howled with laughter.

  “You started the fight?” Odin asked.

  “Not exactly,” I glanced at my cadre for support.

  “No, an Orc attacked first.” Tuzren came to my aid. “I was just being friendly and he pounded me.”

  “And then, another Orc took a swing at me.” I found my voice. “I was trying to deescalate the situation.”

  Odin glared. He knew there was more to the story, but he probably had other business to deal with. “And this is the truth?”

  Elryn nodded. “I’d swear an oath on my powers.”

  “I would, too,” I said.

  Odin didn’t look convinced. Still, with the exception of the spilled mead and Tuzren’s unwanted display of affection, we hadn’t really done anything.

  “You’re not Einherjar.” The god looked annoyed.

  “No, well, we just wanted to try the mead and watch the fights.” Duncan said before I could speak.

  “They’re my guests.” The Valkyrie spoke up. “Duncan is a friend of mine and he brought his friends. They’re under my protection.”

  My mouth dropped open as I looked back at Duncan and the Valkyrie. Seriously? I mouthed.

  Duncan nodded. His eyes said, Play along.

  Odin looked at the Valkyrie. “They’re under your protection, Sigrún?”

  The Valkyrie stretched her enormous golden wings out from behind her and smiled. “Yes, even the mage. He’s one of Tyr’s.”

  Odin gazed at me intently. “Do you know what you did exactly?”

  My face felt hot and I suspected it was red. “I was drunk. I just wanted everyone to chill out.”

  A silence ensued and then Odin did the most unexpected thing.

  He chuckled.

  I let go of the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I felt my shoulders relax, even though I knew I should keep my wits around the god. Odin was nothing to trifle with on his most generous days. I waited for him to speak.

  “You, boy, are a menace,” Odin said at last. “You got around one of my Einherjar bouncers and then when he came back, he got eaten by my Ulfhednar.”

  “Is he okay?” Tuzren quipped.

  I raised my hand up a little too fast to try to shut the demon up and ended up knocking him off my shoulder. Tuzren landed hard on his butt and squawked loudly. Elryn facepalmed. Duncan and Sigrún looked away, embarrassed.

  Odin chuckled again. “Not really. Unless you call half-digested ‘okay.’”

  I swallowed hard. “But he’ll come back, won’t he? I mean, nobody really dies here, do they?”

  Odin shook his head. “In a manner of speaking, that’s true. The only one who will not survive is Baldr, but that is for another time. Ralf will return to the mead hall rather pissed off at you, seeing as he’ll remember the whole experience, but he’ll be none the worse for the wear. You and your friends, however, have violated my laws here.”

  “Even if we’re under Sigrún’s protection?” Duncan’s face paled.

  Odin raised a finger. “I may be blind in one eye, but I’m not so blind that I can’t see. I know you crashed the party here and I know you don’t belong here either. And while it was a total accident spilling mead on the Orc, the fact that your presence caused the whole riot has not gone unnoticed.”

  “So, what do you think is fair?” I asked.

  “Join me in my office and we’ll discuss the possible penalties.”

  I looked at the others before turning back to the god. “Why don’t we talk about them here? There’s really nobody except us.”

  “And Loki,” Odin said pointedly. “Unless you’re volunteering to help these wayward souls out?”

  Loki hopped off the frozen ogre with a grin. “Sure, why not? The more the mischief, the greater the sport.”

  Odin chuckled again. “Very well, brother.” He turned to me. “You have a choice to stay here in Valhalla and clean up the entire hall by hand—not magic—for a period of one thousand years. Or, you can go back to Midgard and search for Fenrir.”

  I blinked. “Where’s Fenrir?”

  “That’s the problem—we don’t know.”

  Chapter Four

  “Fenrir is missing?” I squeaked, a little like a frightened mouse. “Isn’t it prophesized that Fenrir will get free of his bonds during Ragnarok?”

  “Hmm, yes.” Odin nodded. “You can see why it’s important to find him and chain him up again.”

  “Did Loki free him?” Elryn asked.

  “Hey now, that’s profiling! And profiling is wrong.” Loki took a menacing step forward.

  Seeing the god of mischief glare at Elryn, I moved between them. “It’s a logical question given that you are Fenrir’s father and you have a hand in fighting against the Asgardians during Ragnarok.”

  “What do you know about Fenrir’s escape?” Odin asked Loki.

  Loki shrugged. “Just what you know.”

  “Are you willing to swear on your powers?” I asked.

  Loki smiled wryly. “This one is clever. You will need to keep an eye on him.” Odin frowned at the joke but Loki simply turned to me. “I swear on my power I had nothing to do with Fenrir’s escape. Satisfied?”

  I took a deep breath and nodded. Oaths were serious business and held power over gods as well as Supernaturals. If Loki were lying, he would lose his magic due to the oath he took. You can’t break an oath without retribution of some kind when you swear by your power or magic. I turned to Odin. “So, what does it mean if Fenrir has escaped? Has Ragnarok started?”

  Odin looked grim. “I don’t believe so, since there is a chain of events that must occur before Ragnarok. But Fenrir breaking free from his chains is part of the events to be sure. Fenrir will kill me at Ragnarok, only to be slain by Vidar, my son.”

  “Is there any way Fenrir could free himself?” Sigrún asked.

  “It’s possible,” Loki spoke before Odin could answer. “Gleipnir is the strongest binding in the Multiverse but it is not infallible and Fenrir is very strong…”

  “But, it is unlikely,” Odin added. “We
found Gleipnir in shreds as though something simply made it brittle and it shattered. It has none of its magic left.”

  “And you want us to go retrieve your bad puppy?” Tuzren snorted.

  “Either that or cleaning Valhalla’s toilets for a thousand years.” Loki smirked. “I’d take the quest.”

  “Cleaning toilets doesn’t sound that bad,” Duncan muttered. “Better than being eaten by Cujo.”

  “Apparently you’ve never seen Valhalla’s restrooms after a party,” Elryn said. “I’m in to go find the pooch.”

  Something had been bothering me about all this. “Why us? You hardly know us and suddenly instead of punishing us, you come up with a quest that would best be handled by the strongest and best in Asgard, like Thor. And yet, you come to us with the tale of the end of times if the quest doesn’t succeed.”

  Odin smiled wryly. “You’re right, Loki, this one is clever.” He cleared his throat. “We just discovered the breakout. It happened sometime while the party was going, probably during the fight. At first, I thought the fight was a diversion, but it looks like it was simply coincidental with the breakout. From what my intelligence sources can tell me, Fenrir has fled to Midgard, but something is preventing me from seeing further.”

  I crossed my arms. “Then why not send Thor or some of the Valkyries to find him? Seems like desperation if you’re sending a little piss-ant wizard to find them.”

  “I have sent them.” Odin glared at me, reminding me that I was talking to a god. “And while you may be a piss-ant wizard, you’re one of the most powerful I’ve seen. Freezing Valhalla is definitely major league magic. Your spell destroyed all Valhalla’s wards and frozen everything and everyone who wasn’t a god.”

  I blinked. “Seriously?”

  “Daaaaamn, you’re good.” Tuzren drawled and tried to slap me on the shoulder. He missed and tumbled off, still obviously inebriated.