by Steve McHugh
“Who is she?” Layla asked.
“Seshat,” Harry said. “Egyptian god of writing, wisdom, that sort of thing. In reality she spends twenty-three hours a day in a sort of functioning coma, where she takes the words from anywhere she feels like and deposits them into a book. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. She just sits there, places her hands on a blank book, and after a short time, there are words there. This library has nineteen floors, all underground, each one apparently full of books about the world, history, and things like that. About a third of them are books she wrote. She seems to flicker around to different parts of history, but she can only do a few books a day, according to the soldier who brought us here.”
“He’s been geeking out,” Chloe said.
“There are rooms back there that I don’t think have ever been opened.”
“How do you find anything?” Layla asked.
“This whole place is rune-scribed,” Chloe said. “You use that thing on the wall there, and it starts to ping when you find the book you need.”
Layla turned to see a black crystal on a plinth next to the entrance.
“The same marks are on Seshat, so I’m told,” Chloe said.
“How did an Egyptian god end up here?” Layla asked.
“Quite a few of them were murdered,” Caleb Cassidy said, stepping out from behind a nearby bookcase. “Thousands of years ago, the Egyptians were given a choice: join Avalon or die. Most joined Hera, or one of the groups who were trying to take control of Avalon, figuring that was the best way to stay alive, but a lot of them fled, went into hiding. Seshat came to the Norse realms for sanctuary, and this place seems to screw with her head. I think she’s an och, like Nabu, although no one seems to know exactly why she’s the way she is, and no one seems to want to find out. She tends to leave people jabbering wrecks if they examine her.”
“How do you know this?” Layla asked.
Caleb placed a book on the table. “It directed me to this before I found the book I needed. I think she can partially control that crystal ball thing.”
“Okay, leave the incredibly powerful god alone, not a problem,” Layla said.
Caleb showed them a leather-bound book. The red cover was old and cracked, but the pages looked new. “This belonged to Cassandra of Troy,” Caleb continued. “She was kidnapped by Agamemnon after the war and he tried to turn her into one of the Fates. It’s all in here. It’s the original diary. Not sure why it’s here, but it looks like a lot of the books here are things brought through from other realms. I think Abaddon would like to get her hands on these.”
“What’s your point about the diary?” Layla asked.
He showed her a second book. “It’s from a Doctor Welkin, who frankly is about as close to an inhuman monster as anything I’ve ever seen. He was trying to recreate the Fates, but never managed it. He did, however, have Cassandra, her daughter, Grace, and her granddaughter, Ivy, in his care. They are the Fates.”
“Okay,” Harry said. “So?”
Caleb took a deep breath. “Reading all three, I understand how the Fates work. They don’t tell the future, rather they give a collection of possible futures. Several are in these books, here. Stuff that has happened, and stuff that happened differently. There was no atomic bomb dropped on Russia in 1946, or conquest of America by Mexico, these are all things that could have happened, but obviously didn’t. Occasionally they keep seeing the same thing over and over, and if they’re asked a question and they give the same answer more than a few times, it’s likely that they’re on to something.”
“Okay, I think I see where this is going,” Layla said. “Elizabeth took the Fates when they attacked Sanctuary, and they used them to track our movements. Eventually, they pinpointed Greenland?”
“That’s the theory I’m working on, yes,” Caleb said. “I need to do more, but I think we need to get the Fates away from Abaddon.”
“They could be anywhere,” Chloe said.
“They’re in Helheim,” Caleb told her. “Like I said, this diary of Cassandra’s is the real thing. I can see her when I use my power. She’s being taken to a fortress north of here, just after the mountains—you can see it if you go on the walls.”
“You want to go attack a fortress that contains an army of blood elves, and who knows what else?” Harry asked.
“Not attack, just get in, get the Fates, and leave,” Caleb said.
“And kill Elizabeth,” Layla added. “That’s why, isn’t it?”
“If the chance is there, then yes, I would take it. You’d do well to do the same.”
Layla wanted to argue, but found that she agreed with her father for the first time in many years. “She can’t be allowed to run around, I agree. And if she has access to people who can pinpoint us, then we need to get them out of there.”
“Glad you see it my way,” Caleb said. “I’ll go speak to Sky and arrange . . .”
“No way,” Layla said. “We’ll arrange; you’re staying here.”
Caleb placed the diary on the table. “Fine. I’ll stay here like the good little prisoner.” He walked off, clearly angry.
Layla yawned.
“When did you last sleep?” Chloe asked.
“Not sure, it’s been a bit of a blur,” Layla said.
“Last we heard, the opposing army still wasn’t all there, so that’ll give you time to rest before they attack,” Harry said.
Caleb stepped out from behind the bookshelves, his hands behind his back. “I want you to know that I understand your reluctance to let me be involved in this.” He drew a gun and shot Harry and Chloe in the neck, and as Layla turned to stop him, Caleb shot her in the neck too.
Harry blinked, before falling unconscious. Chloe jumped to her feet and fell forward toward Layla, who felt her legs give out. The pair collapsed to the floor.
Caleb showed Layla the gun. “I didn’t want it to be this way,” he told her. “But you just wouldn’t let it go. They’re just tranquilizers, but they’re used by Avalon on sorcerers, so you’ll be out for a while.”
“Gonna find you,” Layla said, her eyes too heavy to stay open.
“You will, but by then your mother will be dead. As will the Fates. They’re too dangerous to live and should be eliminated. Stay out of my way, Layla. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. This is too important.”
Layla reached out to grab her dad, but sleep took her instead and she fell back to the floor.
19
LAYLA CASSIDY
“Your dad is a real arsehole,” Rosa said to Layla.
She sat on a patch of the greenest grass that Layla had ever seen. Rosa, Gyda, and Servius stood over her, looking down.
Servius offered his hand, which Layla took, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.
“You have no idea,” Layla said. “I’m asleep, yes?”
“Your dad shot you,” Gyda said. “I know I have issues with trust and the like, but I honestly didn’t see that coming.”
Layla stretched. She was angry that her father had knocked her out, all for his own vengeance. The Fates were innocent victims who, short of suicide, couldn’t have done anything to prevent Elizabeth’s use of their abilities. “We have to stop him.”
“That’s true, but seeing how you’re here, I figured we may as well talk,” Rosa said. “How are things?”
“I’m tired, fed up, pissed off, and have generally had a really shit few days,” Layla said. “And I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon, so there’s that too.”
“I have something I need to say,” Gyda said with a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I blamed the drenik for what happened to my village. I assumed it was her, and only her, and I hadn’t taken into consideration that the elves and dwarves had been behind it. I created a memory based on what I thought happened and blamed Terhal for something she didn’t do.”
There was the sound of clapping from behind Layla, who turned and watched Terhal walk toward them. “My good woman,” she said. �
�I accept. Considering your screwed-up brain caused me to have a screwed-up memory, I think we both failed ourselves. The sun elves started this. They set it in motion, and now we have no idea where they are to receive the justice we need to deliver.”
“First we have to defeat Abaddon,” Layla said.
Terhal laughed. “You can’t believe that you can kill her? She’s one of the most powerful creatures on any realm. She’d crush you. Even without her full power, you couldn’t win in Texas when your mother cut off your arm, and you can’t win now.”
“Slow her down then,” Servius said. “You can’t win. You need to think of another option, because if you don’t, Helheim falls and you die.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Layla said. “I know what happens. There are people better than me who are in charge of this operation. There are people with more power, more experience running it all. I’m just told what to do and when to do it, and I try not to die. Abaddon is somewhat above my pay grade.”
“So, why do you want to go after her?” Rosa asked. “I can feel it.”
“Because she took my mother and made her a monster. She takes and takes, ruins life after life, and there’s no recompense. There’s just destruction and horror, and no one can stop it.” Layla paused.
“The weapon she used in Norumbega and in Nidavellir, this Devil’s Venom,” Terhal said. “Why hasn’t she used it here?”
“Maybe she can’t,” Rosa said. “Maybe the realm is too big?”
“She needs Hades for something too,” Layla said, her mind working overtime. “Hades is the key. That’s why they still have him. They need him for something. Otherwise, why not just kill him and be done with it? Why risk him escaping? I need to talk to Zamek or Nabu.”
“Good luck,” Rosa said with a smile as the three spirits vanished from view.
“You still haven’t accepted who you are,” Terhal said.
“Not now,” Layla told him.
“Your father is a serial killer and your mother is a monster. You are their child.”
“My mother wasn’t always a monster,” Layla snapped.
“She helped your father commit several of his crimes,” Terhal said. “What would you call her?”
Layla was about to speak, but she opened her eyes and found herself on a bed in a white-walled room. She threw the pale-green sheets off her and got out of bed. She was still fully clothed, but someone had removed her boots. She found them under the table in the sparsely furnished room. Apart from the table and bed, there was a small chair and that was it. A window looked down over the city.
She opened the door and stepped outside to find the saber-tooth panther lying across the threshold. Kase sat opposite it.
“She wouldn’t leave,” Kase said, nodding toward the cat, who got back to her feet. “I think she feels bad that your dad escaped.”
“How are Chloe and Harry?”
“Chloe is fine,” Kase said. “Harry is . . . your dad took him.”
Layla was suddenly terrified for her friend. “How did he get out of the city with him? Last I saw, he was unconscious.”
“A pathway at the bottom of the library was mentioned in a book he’d been looking at. No one even knew it existed. It leads outside the city walls and is currently being destroyed so that Abaddon doesn’t use it.”
“My dad must need Harry for something.”
“Runes, we think,” Kase said. “He’s been working with Zamek for two years, Nabu too. A lot’s rubbed off on him.” Layla could hear the slight strain in Kase’s voice when she spoke about Harry.
“Are you okay?” Layla asked as the pair set off down the long hallway to the staircase.
“If your dad has hurt Harry, I’m going to kill him,” Kase said. “No messing about, I’m going to tear his fucking head clean off.”
“I don’t disagree with the idea,” Layla told her. “I really don’t think he’ll hurt Harry though. He needs his knowledge.” She placed her hand on Kase’s shoulder. “Harry will be fine. He’s tougher than I give him credit for, and he’s smart.”
“And if the blood elves get him before Caleb finishes whatever insanity he has planned?”
“It won’t come to that,” Layla said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “We’ll get Harry back.”
Kase pointed Layla toward a set of large gold-and-silver double doors. Three guards stood watch. Kase nodded to them and pushed open one of the doors. The sound of voices washed over Layla like a giant wave.
There were several dozen people inside, including a few she’d never seen before. Mordred, Persephone, Hel, and Olivia stood at the far end of a circular wooden table in the middle of the room. Tommy was seated at the table, next to Nabu, who looked paler than the last time Layla had seen him.
Chloe, Irkalla, Diana, and Remy walked over to Layla, each one hugging her in turn as the panther padded over to one of the large windows and lay down in a beam of sunlight.
“We’ll find Harry,” Diana said. “We have a plan.”
“It’s Mordred’s,” Remy said. “Should tell you all you need to know about it.”
“Goddamn it, Mordred!” Hel shouted. “You will die.”
Everyone in the room fell silent as Hel swore in a language that Layla didn’t know.
“What’s going on?” Layla asked, loud enough that everyone could hear.
“We’re having a disagreement,” Persephone said. “Mordred has a plan to deal with your father, get Harry back, and hopefully find the Fates, but it’s . . . not exactly something I’d advise.”
“What does he want me to do?” Layla asked.
Mordred looked over at her. “Nothing this time. You’re not going.”
“Screw you I’m not,” Layla snapped.
Mordred walked around the table, and Layla’s anger at being told what she could and couldn’t do started bubbling to the surface.
“You can’t stop me,” Layla said.
“Probably true,” Mordred told her. “We’ve come to know one another well over the last six months or so, and I know you’re a smart woman, and I also know you can take care of yourself, but on this occasion, you’re wrong. You can’t do this.”
Layla took a breath.
“Before you swear at me,” Mordred said. “Just listen. Please.”
Layla locked eyes with Mordred and, after several seconds, she nodded. “Go on.”
“Your father took Harry out of the city and toward a fortress, here,” he said, pointing to the map of the realm that Layla had seen the last time she’d been in the room. Niflhel was clearly marked, and the point Mordred had indicated was a small fort to the west of the mountains where the blood elf army was currently amassing their strength.
“I plan on infiltrating this fortress, finding everyone I need to and getting them out,” Mordred said.
“And I can’t come because?” Layla asked.
“They’re your parents, Layla,” Mordred said with genuine warmth. “No child should have to kill their own parents.”
“That’s the plan?” Layla asked. “You’re going to kill them?”
Mordred nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about it first, but yes. Your mother died years ago, and it’s just a monster walking around in her skin, and your father . . . we all know what he did. I can’t ask you to do it, because, frankly, that’s all kinds of messed up.”
“They’re my responsibility,” Layla said.
“No, they’re not,” Chloe told her. “Just like Mara wasn’t my responsibility, just like Merlin isn’t Mordred’s, or Demeter Persephone’s. We’re not responsible for our parents’ actions, good or bad. They’re adults, and they have to take their own responsibility. Between us, I think we have enough dysfunctional parents to fill a sizable support group, but none of us wants to be the one with the finger on the trigger when it comes right down to it. I know I couldn’t have killed Mara. And I doubt you can kill your parents, even if it’s not really your mum.”
“Besides, you go after them,
and Harry and the Fates could suffer if you can’t do it at the last minute,” Mordred said. “This can’t be you.”
“It shouldn’t be you either,” Hel snapped from across the table. “It’s suicide.”
“It’s not,” Mordred told her. “That fortress doubles as a large prison. And the Hel I know has never built a prison she didn’t already have a way out of. So, you tell me the secret entrance, and then I go stop our friends from dying.”
“Why would my father need Harry to help with runes?” Layla asked, thinking about what she’d learned from Kase.
“He’d been reading a book about the fortress,” Sky said. “He tore several of the pages out that Hel says are directions to a secret entrance, but she won’t say where because she doesn’t want Mordred to get killed. I for one have seen Mordred defy death about a million times, so I’m pretty sure he’ll be fine.”
“At this point, I’m certain Mordred is being kept alive just so he can’t ruin the afterlife for anyone else,” Remy said.
“I’m not sure how to take that,” Mordred said.
“However you like,” Remy told him with a slight chuckle.
“That fortress is full of exceptionally bad people,” Hel said. “The second you get in there, if any of them get out . . .”
“I get it,” Mordred said. “But I still need to try. Also, I have a second part to my plan.”
“Oh, this should be good,” Remy said.
“Shut up, Remy, you’re coming with me.”
Irkalla laughed.
“You too,” Mordred told her, making Remy giggle until Irkalla playfully cuffed the back of his head.
“What’s the second part?” Hel asked.
“Before we get to it, I need to know how to get into the fortress,” Mordred said.
“Actually, before that,” Layla interrupted, “I still haven’t said I’m okay with not going.”
Mordred looked at Layla.
Layla sighed. “Fine, you’re right, I can’t do it. Doesn’t matter how much I think about it, how much it needs doing, I can’t kill my own parents. You’re right. I would be screwed up if I could. Doesn’t mean I want to just sit around and wait for an army to attack us.”
