Managarm held the phone cautiously against his ear and smiled around the campfire at Sally, Opal, Berserkers Adam and Peter, and the four new warriors who had piled into Opal’s car at Krispy Kreme while she was on a snack run.
“You useless cur!” Heimdall shouted on the other end.
Managarm laughed. “I assume you’ve figured out Freyr is no longer in possession of this device, then, Heimdall?”
Sally perked up. “Heimdall . . . ?”
Managarm stepped several paces away.
“You know very well such a theft would not go unnoticed,” Heimdall spat.
“Heimdall, your anger offends me,” Managarm responded calmly. “I recovered this phone from the one who attacked Freyr. I was hoping for an invitation to the Lodge so I could return it to its rightful owner.”
“And attack the clan in Odin’s hall? I don’t think so.” Heimdall paused. “Don’t think for one moment you have escaped detection.”
“Detection?” Managarm laughed out loud. “I am a single wolf, alone in the woods.”
“With Berserkers.”
Managarm glanced at the warriors chowing down around the fire and thrilled at the edge in Heimdall’s voice. He was going to pull off this coup after all. He stared directly at Sally and smiled. “Tell me, Heimdall, have you found the Tree?”
“We know what you intend to do, Moon Dog.” Heimdall’s voice was hard. “You will be stopped.”
Managarm chuckled softly. “I notice you didn’t answer my question. Naturally, I will assume you do not have the Tree.” He frowned at the expression of hopeful confusion in Sally’s face as she looked up at him. He turned his back on her.
“I’ll tell you about the Yggdrasil after you tell me about your witch,” Heimdall answered smugly.
Managarm stiffened. How could Heimdall know about the Moon Witch? He glanced over his shoulder at Sally, who still watched him with fierce expectation.
“You there, Moon Dog?” Heimdall taunted. “Skogkatt got your tongue?”
Managarm huffed angrily and glared at the warriors munching on doughnuts and taquitos around his campfire. Was there a traitor in his camp? They’d all accepted the mark of the Moon Witch, voluntarily cutting the crescent moon into their own flesh, but how strong a hold did Sally really have on these Berserkers? Then he remembered Sally’s excitement when she returned to the car from the bookstore that morning, babbling about how Saga had helped her. Had the goddess recognized the artificially aged girl for what she truly was?
The edges of Managarm’s scowl ticked upward. “Ah, yes. Saga, at the bookstore.”
Heimdall didn’t respond.
“Such a pity that the once mighty Odin and his clan have been reduced to working for pay like common mortals.”
“At least we’re contributing to human society, rather than preying upon it,” Heimdall countered. “Or have you discontinued your thieving ways and chosen a more honorable existence?”
“Honorable?!” Managarm spat. “You think it’s honorable to consort with mortals? To beg for employment from those who are so far beneath you? You are a disgrace to the Old Ways! You bring dishonor to the Lodge. You besmirch and desecrate the Yggdrasil—”
“So, how’s Fenrir?” Heimdall interrupted.
“I, I don’t know what you mean,” Managarm stammered, then immediately regretted it. He should flaunt the Fenris Wolf, to make Heimdall and the clan fear him even more.
Heimdall laughed. “Of course. Why would you have designs on the Randulfr? Only that you cannot bring about Ragnarok without him, and if you don’t have him—”
“Fate must play itself out.” Managarm cut him off. He stared at the display for a moment, then tossed the phone to Adam. “End the call,” he commanded.
Managarm watched the boy in the soiled karate uniform push a couple of buttons and slide the phone back into his pocket. “You say you bested Freyr?”
A satisfied smile spread across Adam’s face. “Got his car keys, too.”
“You are lucky to be in my service then,” Managarm’s eyes narrowed to dark slits. “If you’d committed such treason as to attack an old god while in Thor’s army, the punishment would have been execution. A lingering, tortuous death, I believe.”
Sally jumped to her feet to face Managarm. “You said the others were all gone. But you were talking to Heimdall on the phone . . . Freyr’s phone?” She looked down at Adam. “You fought Freyr?”
“In his own dojo, while his students watched,” Adam boasted. “That is where your call awakened me. A fitting birth for a Berserker.” He glanced to the others sitting beside him, challenging them with his puffed up chest and superior expression. A few of the new warriors sneered in response. Peter, dribbling jelly filling down the front of his Reed College sweatshirt, just rolled his eyes.
“Why on earth would you attack Freyr?” Sally demanded.
Adam immediately looked down at the ground. “It was not my intention to do battle with the god. He, he just got in the way.”
Sally rested her hands on her hips and stood over him. “Got in the way of what, exactly?”
Adam chanced a look up at her face. “We were in the middle of exercises when I awoke. I was fighting a younger boy—”
“I don’t like this!” Sally spun on her heel to face Managarm. “I know you’re a god, and you have a plan. But these Berserkers are supposed to be missionaries, right? To help spread peace and responsibility? That’s what you said.”
Managarm gritted his teeth. The human witch wasn’t as stupid as he’d thought. Soon she might challenge him outright. But if he could just keep her—and her Berserkers—under his thumb until he had Fenrir in hand . . . Managarm’s face softened into an expression of concern, and he rested a placating hand on Sally’s shoulder.
“Let me handle this.” Managarm looked past Sally and bore down on Adam. “This took place at a dojo?”
Adam nodded. “The Raven Dojo.”
Managarm nearly burst out laughing. No doubt the school was named for Odin’s dark-winged spies—the same cursed ravens who had watched Managarm’s every move in the Old World.
Sally gasped. “Huginn and Muninn!” She stepped up beside Managarm as he stood over the Berserker. “Are they at the studio?”
Adam shook his head. “No birds. Just martial arts. Freyr teaches there, with his sister.”
“Freya!” Sally exclaimed. “Freya is alive?” Sally smiled hopefully at Managarm. “She can help us! She knows more about the runes than anyone.” She grasped his arm in excitement, then immediately thought better of it and backed away a few paces.
Managarm’s spine prickled. He’d idolized Freya, the shaman who had been his teacher. He still dreamt of the nights he’d watched her in the forest, ringed by trees while she communed with the moon. She sang until it seemed the stars themselves danced in time to her tune.
But he’d been nothing more to her than a trained dog. An animal to be pitied.
“I studied there for three years,” Adam continued. “But it wasn’t until today that I knew Freyr for who he really is. And not just Freyr.” He reached again for the cell phone and showed the device’s address book to Managarm and Sally. “All of their phone numbers. Frigga. Bragi. Thor.” His face broke into a proud smile as he cooed, “Odin.”
“Odin?” Sally grabbed the phone out of Adam’s hand and scrolled through the phone’s address book. Managarm tried to take the phone away from her, but she stepped away from him and balled her trembling hands into fists. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
Managarm dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I owe you nothing.”
Sally grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her, but Managarm could feel her shaking as she gripped the fabric of his shirt. She swallowed hard and waved the cell phone in his face with her free hand. “We have their phone numbers! We aren’t alone in our quest.”
Her quavering voice made the statement sound more like a question, and Managarm laughed in her face. “Stupid witch.
Odin would no more partner with me than he would rekindle the war between the Æsir and the Vanir. It’s Ragnarok that we’re after.”
Sally gasped. “Ragnarok? I thought you wanted to bring back the Old Ways! But you’re talking about destroying everything!” Sally’s tears spilled into the dirt. “You’re right. I am stupid. Stupid to believe in goodness. Stupid to put my faith in a god who would lie.”
Managarm roared and grabbed her roughly by her shoulders. “You will watch your tone with me, witch. You would do well to remember that you serve—and continue to draw breath—solely at my pleasure.”
Opal and the six Berserkers were immediately on their feet.
“Let her go!” Opal shouted, while the warriors pulled flaming sticks from the campfire and fell into a semi-circle behind Sally. As a unit, they held their torches as weapons and glowered at Managarm.
Managarm tightened his grip on Sally, making her squirm harder. “Call them off,” Managarm growled.
“I won’t!” Sally tried to wrench herself free.
Managarm’s fingers dug into her flesh, and Sally cried out in pain. The Berserkers moved closer, growling.
“You will call them off. Else I’ll tear each one of them to pieces, and make you watch. Starting with your friend, Opal.” Managarm was confident he could do no such thing, even at the height of his powers. But Sally didn’t know that—apparently, neither did Opal, who instinctively ducked behind the Berserkers for safety.
“You wouldn’t!” Sally pushed against Managarm’s chest, but his fingers just dug deeper.
Managarm lowered his face to hers. “Are you certain? Recall the brutality of those mythological battles, and remember that I fought in them.”
Tears streaming down her face, Sally looked over her shoulder at the Berserkers standing loyally behind her. Their dark eyes were ablaze in the light of their burning spears.
“Back down,” she choked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Berserkers obeyed immediately, tossing their flaming sticks back into the campfire. Still, they eyed Managarm warily.
Managarm eased his grip on Sally, but didn’t let her go. He locked his eyes on hers and lowered his face to touch hers. “You serve me, witch,” he whispered darkly. “You are beyond your depth here. You obey me and no other.” He felt her resistance slacken but gripped her even tighter.
“I, I can’t—” Sally stammered.
Rita and David came crashing through the surrounding trees and stumbled into the campsite, out of breath and covered in blood.
Managarm tossed Sally aside and approached the returning warriors. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he looked them each up and down. They had tasted blood. But his smile faded as he looked to the quiet woods beyond them.
“Where is the wolf?” Managarm rested his fists on his hips. “Where is the old man?”
Rita stepped forward. Her braided hair was matted with blood and had pine needles sticking out at odd angles. “Douglas was too slow. He had a warrior’s bold heart, but he was no match for the Randulfr.”
“Fenrir killed the old man?”
“As soon as we broke him out. The wolf went right for his throat. It was awesome!” David cackled.
“And the Fenris Wolf?” Managarm growled, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Unknown.” Rita straightened her spine. “Escaped.”
Managarm’s nostrils flared as his jaw tightened. Advancing on the pair of warriors with his hands balled into tight fists, Managarm stopped just short of knocking Rita over. Behind her, David bared his teeth and sank into a half-crouch, ready to spring at Managarm.
Fighting his own instincts, Managarm stepped back and smiled. Fenrir had slaughtered the old man—who, Berserker or not, was a liability to begin with, due to his age. And Fenrir had gotten his first taste of human blood in a long, long time. By the time the Randulfr made his way to Managarm—the only other Warg on this continent—he would be ready to tear out Odin’s throat.
“Good,” Managarm complimented the Berserkers, then turned back around to face Sally. Whether he liked it or not, she still controlled the Berserkers.
“Mighty warriors.” He smiled with outstretched arms to encompass them all in his praise. “The Randulfr is free. Now, Sally, can you track the Fenris Wolf?” Treading carefully, Managarm kept his voice soft. God or not, if he tempted the wrath of the Berserkers, they’d tear him limb from limb.
Sally wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself. Opal stepped up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Sally,” Opal whispered to her friend. “You don’t have to do what he says.”
Sally looked between Managarm and Opal and shivered. Managarm took a step closer.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” he forced down the rising bile in his throat. “I need your help, Sally.”
She shook her head and eyed him anxiously. “But you said . . . Ragnarok.”
He smiled and stepped even closer. Mortals had always been fools for sentimental promises. “The new world we create will be glorious, Sally, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Your spell-work is designed to put an end to hate and destruction, right?”
“Yeah . . .” she answered suspiciously, rubbing her arms where he’d dug in his fingers.
“Ever hear of slash and burn agriculture, destroying the old to make room for the new?”
“I guess.” Sally looked over her shoulder at Opal, who shook her head sharply.
“I can help track the wolf.”
Managarm spun around to find Rita standing behind him.
“From my apartment.” Rita looked past Managarm to nod dutifully to Sally. “A modern witch needs modern tools. I can offer you everything you need.”
Valhalla Page 34