“Any time now, Brynn!” Jade whacked another toothy muzzle.
“This isn’t easy!” the boy returned tartly, sawing at the door latch, “The leather is frozen solid. I’m almost through.”
A huge, silvery animal slunk forward, lips pulled back in a tooth-bearing snarl. It darted around, catching Truda’s druid cloak in its fangs and dragging her, trying to separate the smallest, weakest member from the rest of the group. She screamed.
Marcus swore. He struck at the wolf’s neck and, with a single blow, severed its spine. The black wolf howled, raising its muzzle to the night. Truda burst into tears.
“Got it!” Brynn yelled. He shoved the stiff door open and yanked Truda to her feet. Together, they dragged Phoenix’s body inside. Moments later, Jade and Marcus followed, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. Outside, a horrifying snarling, snapping, growling ruckus told them exactly what was happening to the wounded animals they’d left behind.
For several long moments the four simply stood, shaking in the darkness. At last the sickening sounds stopped. The wolfpack moved noiselessly off into the worsening storm. Truda’s tears calmed to occasional sniffs.
Someone groaned.
The dark-silence suddenly became tense again.
“Was that you, Brynn?” Jade asked reluctantly. It hadn’t sounded like him, or Marcus.
“No,” the boy whispered. Truda pressed herself up against Jade, shivering.
Another groan cut through the apprehensive stillness.
“Is someone here?” Jade called, unable to suppress a faint tremor in her voice.
There was no answer. The room waited, shadowed and still.
She heard Brynn fumbling to pull out his flint and tinder. He struck a small flame. It illuminated the space for long enough to reveal a central hearth, already laid with tinder and wood. There were no other people. He lit a fragment of straw and held it beneath the dry firewood. It caught. Very soon a cheerful, warm fire cast dancing golden light onto rough, thatch-and-timber walls and a dirt floor. It wasn’t much but it was better than being outside.
Once more a faint groan sounded. Stunned, the four companions looked down. The noises came from Phoenix’s body.
Jade dropped beside her friend and felt for a pulse. It was ridiculous, of course. They were imagining things. Phoenix was dead. There was no way both she and Marcus could have been mistaken…..
Thump-thump…thump-thump…..thump-thump.
A heartbeat.
An unmistakable pulse in his throat.
Phoenix lived.
CHAPTER TWO
“He’s alive!” Jade looked up at Marcus, stunned.
With a grunt of effort, she rolled Phoenix over and felt for the arrow-wounds in his back. They were gone: nothing but hard little bumps of scartissue through holes in his jerkin and shirt. Dumbfounded, she rolled him back and stared at him for a moment. He moaned again and opened vague blue eyes. Hope jumped in her heart. He really was alive. It was impossible and incredible but true.
“Jade?” His words were slurred and slow. “Where the heck are we?”
“Uh…” she replied, glancing around the little room. “I have no idea – not home, anyway.” She couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot.
Phoenix pushed himself up from the hard floor, holding his head with one hand. “Why are you grinning like an idiot and why do I feel like a hit and run victim?”
“I…I’m pretty sure you were…um…dead,” she replied at last, touching his shoulder to assure herself he was actually real – well, as real as it got in this world, anyway.
“Huh?” He blinked at her then looked at Marcus for confirmation.
The young soldier nodded solemnly. “Two Roman arrows through your back.”
Phoenix twisted his arm awkwardly up behind himself, feeling for the scars and holes. He rotated his shoulders then stared at the backs of his hands as though surprised to see them.
“I was…dead?” he shivered, lapsing into confused silence.
“Let’s all get warm,” Jade advised, giving him a gentle shove toward the fire.
It was a bedraggled, damp and exhausted little group that huddled around the cheery fire. They stared at the flames in silence for a long time. At last, Truda stirred, yawned and gave them a grateful smile.
“I’m glad you’re alive, Phoenix.” She said earnestly. “And I’m glad the wolves didn’t eat me. And I’m really glad you came and got me. The druids were nice and all,” she waggled her plump fingers toward the heat, “but I’m looking forward to getting home. I miss my pa.”
“Uh huh,” Jade replied automatically. She wasn’t really listening, being more focussed on warming her numbed hands and casting sidelong glances at Phoenix. How could he be alive? What did it mean?
“Yep,” Truda added, “my pa will be so glad to see me. So will Ullr and ma but,” she turned thoughtful, “I don’t know about Magni or Modi – they can be mean sometimes - but Grandpa Odinn will be real glad. He’s nice.”
“Uh huh,” Jade repeated, scooting closer to the fire. The pointed tips of her ears were frozen and she couldn’t feel her toes. She was relieved to be out of the wind. It sounded like a regular blizzard rising outside. The wolves howled again, further away now.
Inspecting the room again, she spotted a pile of furs and skins in one shadowed corner. Scrambling up, she pulled several closer to the fire. Wrapping a thick fur around the still-chattering girl, she handed some to Brynn, who snuggled into them, extending his bare toes almost into the fire. She heaved a huge bearskin to Phoenix, who held it in his hand for several seconds before apparently realising what he was supposed to do with it.
She stared at him again, gratitude mixing with incredulity. He was alive! Even with magic, she’d felt no trace of life before. One arrow had gone right into his heart. How could he possibly be alive?
He turned his head to look at her, blue eyes darkened by remembered pain.
“I was really dead?”
She nodded at him. He shivered, pulled the fur around his shoulders and resumed staring at the fire.
“I tried to kill your father, Marcus,” he murmured. “Sorry.”
Jade gasped and glanced at their friend, worried. Brynn and Truda stared at Phoenix, eyes wide, mouths agape.
The Roman glanced up, his expression arrested. “Don’t be. I would have done the same, given a chance,” he finally admitted, extending his hands toward the flame. “Did you succeed?”
Phoenix shrugged. “Don’t think so. Pilum through the shoulder should slow him down for awhile, though.”
Marcus shook his head. “Zhudai will heal him.”
Phoenix grunted and lapsed back into silence. A short while later he turned his back, curled up under the fur and appeared to fall asleep.
Eventually, Jade roused herself enough to bring out the Hyllion Bagia. She spread the magic bag on the floor and dipped a hand into its black maw. Muttering a request, she drew out the remains of the enormous meal that had been provided, two days before, by the dryad Queen, Lady Aurfanon. There wasn’t much left but it was enough for the four conscious companions to each have something with a little left over for Phoenix. A small, logical part of her mind noted that it was still perfectly fresh. Perhaps something in the magic of the Bag kept it that way.
“Will he be ok?” Brynn asked, putting a small pot of water on to heat over the fire.
Jade cast Phoenix a worried glance then nodded with more assurance than she felt.
“I think so. He’s sleeping. The arrow wounds are just tiny scars. I guess he just lost some blood and is tired.” She sighed and sat down, extending her hands toward the fire. “I think we’re all worn-out.”
The others agreed wholeheartedly.
“We should be celebrating,” Marcus murmured, chewing on a piece of unleavened bread. “Phoenix is alive. We succeeded in our first Quest.” He waved the bread at Truda. “We have the Jewel of Asgard and we’re one step closer to killing Feng Zhudai.”
<
br /> “Yes, I suppose so,” Jade scrubbed at her face, yawning. “It’s just a bit hard to get all excited when we haven’t really rested for five days. I’m so tired my brain feels like it’s stuffed with cloth. Plus, I have no idea where we are or what we’re supposed to do next.” She clenched her fingers and jaw against a wave of fear and worry. She’d never thought they’d have to face the second level at all. She’d be so certain that just finishing Level one would be enough to get her home. It wasn’t and now she had no idea what to do. At least, with Phoenix back, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.
“I know what you have to do,” Truda piped up. The others looked at her expectantly. “You have to take me home,” she spread her hands and smiled, blinking her big eyes at them.
Jade grimaced. “We know that,” she tried to be patient, “but we don’t have a clue where your home is from here. Do you know?”
“Oh yes,” the little girl replied with bright assurance. “It’s Bilskirnir.”
“What’s a Bilskinor?” Brynn cut in.
“It’s my pa’s house and it’s Bilskirnir,” Truda corrected, her small face serious. “The Druids never could say it right, either. They couldn’t even say my name right. It’s more like: ‘Throoder’, ” she said it with a sort of sing-song inflexion and almost swallowed the last sound. She smiled at their blank looks, “but I like Truda, so you can keep calling me that.”
“Wait,” Jade held up a hand, “we’re getting off track. You are the thing we had to get to complete our first quest: you are the Jewel of Asgard. Now I thought Asgard was the place you were from but this Bil....whatever.....that’s your home? A house somewhere?”
Truda nodded, red braids bouncing. “That’s where pa and ma and my half-brothers are. I’ve been gone an awful long time. Weeks and weeks, I think. So long I’ve almost missed my birthday. Uncle Loki stealed me from my bed one night and took me to stay with the Druids. He plays silly jokes on us all the time but this one was a bit mean. I’m not happy with him at all!” She pouted at the fire.
The others stared at the girl, dumbfounded.
“Your uncle stole you as a joke?” Jade managed at last. “He took you away from your family for months as some sort of prank?”
Truda nodded, apparently not fazed by the situation at all. “Uncle Loki is fun but sometimes he can be misch...misshhev... mischiv..”
“Mischievous?” Jade prompted.
“That’s it!” the girl exclaimed, beaming. “Loki’s not my real uncle but that’s what we all call him.”
There was a pause. Jade looked thoughtfully at her. “Um....is this kind of behaviour normal in your family?”
“Oh yes, we’re always getting into fights and playing tricks an’ stuff,” Truda replied, poking the fire with a handy stick. “Once my pa dressed up as a bride so he could get back his favourite hammer from Thrym – he was the big meanie giant who stole it.”
“A bride?” Brynn giggled. “With the flowers and dress and everything? Just to get his hammer back?” When Truda nodded and looked mildly offended, he howled with laughter, apparently finding it highly amusing that a man would dress up as a girl just to get a tool back.
“It’s Mjölnir,” Truda muttered. “It’s a special hammer.”
Jade shook her head irritably. Somewhere in her brain, a small part was trying very hard to get her attention. Something about Truda was important. Something her conscious brain was trying to make sense of, much to the annoyance of her subconscious, which had already worked it out. At last, several things clicked into place. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Jade asked the inevitable questions.
“Truda,” she interrupted the girl’s chatter, “did I hear you say something about Grandpa Odinn before?” Truda nodded, her bottom lip sticking out; eyes huge. Jade sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “Am I right in thinking that your pa would be Thor then?”
“Uh huh,” Truda confirmed, obviously worried that she’d done something wrong. “Is that bad?”
Jade glanced up, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She sent a resigned look at Marcus and Brynn, both of whom stared back at her in confusion.
“It’s not bad,” she sighed. “I should have realised, really, when I heard she was the Jewel of Asgard.”
“Would you mind explaining exactly what you should have realised?” Brynn prompted.
“Remember what our next task is?” Jade reminded him. “We have to return the Jewel of Asgard,” she pointed at Truda, “to its owner in Asgard. Asgard is the home of the Norse gods. It turns out that Truda is the Jewel and her father, her ‘owner’, is Thor. Thor,” she finished with a tired, slightly hysterical laugh, “is none other than the Norse God of Thunder and War.”
Quite appropriately, there was a sudden increase in the ferocity of the wind outside, followed by a distant rumble of thunder.
Truda looked up, her face alight with excitement. “Pa!” She jumped up and raced toward the door. Marcus was quicker and barred her way. Jade followed. She still had trouble believing that, in this realm, the Norse Gods – and their powers - were actually real, not just exciting stories she’d read. It was pretty daunting.
“Oh no.” Marcus grabbed Truda’s arms and held her still. “You can’t go outside in this storm. You’d freeze in ten seconds - and remember the wolves?”
“But it’s my pa up there,” she wailed, pointing to the ceiling. “Right now, he’s up in his chariot, throwing Mjölnir to make the thunder and lightning.” She stomped one slippered foot and looked mutinous. “I want to see my pa.”
“C’mon,” Jade tried to be reasonable, “if you did go out now, he wouldn’t be able to see you or hear you in all this snow and wind anyway.”
Truda looked doubtful for a moment then her expression firmed again into determination. “He might,” she scowled, folding her arms.
Abruptly, Jade had had enough. She was too tired to cope with a tantrum-throwing kid at the moment – godsdaughter or not. She jerked her head at Marcus and together they moved aside.
“Fine.” She said coolly. “Go out and yell your head off. I don’t care. In fact, if he does hear you, it makes our job much easier but,” she warned when Truda’s face lit up, “don’t blame me if your yelling attracts the wolves. Right now we’re in no position to fight any battles for you.” She stood back and folded her arms too, watching the precocious child.
Truda flounced to the door and grabbed the inside, wooden doorlatch. She opened it a fraction. Wind and flurries of snow slipped in, making the fire flicker and jump. She shivered but opened it a little wider and peered up into the heavy, blue-dark sky. Cupping a hand around her mouth, she shrieked into the wind:
“Pa! Pa! Come ‘n get me, Pa!”
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled its wild, weird call. Its packmates answered with a hair-raising, disharmonious chorus. Some were still quite close by the hut. Truda slammed the door shut and pressed her back to it, eyes wide. She straightened up with a quirky, apologetic sort of grin at Jade and Marcus.
“Maybe I’ll just wait until we get to Bilskirnir then.”
“Wise move,” Jade exchanged ironic, laughing glances with Marcus.
She ushered Truda back to the fire, where the girl-child snuggled under the furs with a dispirited sigh. Brynn produced his little wooden whistle and twiddled a few tunes until Truda complained it was too shrill. They huddled together beneath the furs, looking very young and very sleepy.
Jade watched. Someone had to be responsible for them. True, Brynn was a tough kid. He’d looked after himself for months after his parents had been killed by Roman soldiers on orders from Feng Zhudai. Truda, however, might be the daughter of a god and as tall as Brynn but she was really very young.
Jade looked away, tears filling her eyes. This was stupid. Her, responsible for two kids? In her world she was hardly more than a kid herself. She missed her own father fiercely. Taking Truda back to Thor suddenly seemed like a very difficult task. Instead of being safely b
ack home, as she’d hoped, she was stuck trying to save both this world and her own from Feng Zhudai’s schemes.
Somehow, they had to stay out of Zhudai’s clutches and find Thor; but where? She had no idea. She’d read a little bit of Norse mythology back home but not enough to remember where Thor hung out. A vague recollection that all the Norse gods lived in Asgard didn’t really help much. How did they get to Asgard? How long would it take?
Then it occurred to Jade that Zhudai would still be hunting for them, even though they’d left ancient Britain. She shivered and clutched the furs closer. If the warnings of the Druids and the strange woman in gray were true then Zhudai wanted Truda for some power she had. He wasn’t likely to give up easily if she had something that would let him control or destroy the world. Arch-villains were like that: tenacious, ruthless.
They had to find a way to get the girl home – quickly.
“Jade?” Truda’s sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Mmmm?” she scrubbed a hand over her face and added a little wood to the fire, trying to push aside her fears. Marcus, nearby, paused in the act of sharpening his sword to listen.
“It is almost my birthday, y’know” the young girl murmured, her eyes drooping.
“That’s nice,” Jade replied, watching sparks fly up from the fire.
“I’ve sorta lost track but I think it’s only about five or six days away. I’ll be seven and I really do have to be home by my birthday,” she lay down, pillowing her head on a fur and dragged another over her bare legs.
“We’ll do our best,” Jade sighed. Marcus smiled at her.
Truda yawned. “No, I mean I really have to be home. If I’m not then Spring won’t come; winter will stay; people will die everywhere. It will be the worst winter ever; then will come the fires; then wars between the gods and giants. It would be the beginning of Ragnarok – the end of all the nine worlds. So I really…..have…to..” She fell asleep in mid sentence.
The Hammer of Thor Page 2