by Linsey Hall
There had to be a thousand cats. Each one different, but none distinct.
Mayhem appeared in the middle of the room, looking around with interest. She fluttered out of reach, sniffing the air, but didn’t seem interested in any particular cat.
“If this is supposed to be a challenge, maybe it’s the biggest cat?” I asked.
“Like a lion?”
I shrugged. “There’s every other breed in here.”
“Every other breed of house cat.”
“Fine.” But he was right. This was some kind of trick. Or test. I’d used my lightning and water magic during the race. Maybe this required one of my gifts.
I had healing, illusion, and acute senses. Since I couldn’t figure out how healing and illusion would help me, I perked my ears and tried to hear something unique.
Heimdall’s magic flowed through me as my hearing focused. Suddenly, I could pick up a thousand different heartbeats. Light and fast. Then two others—slower, louder. Me and Cade.
And a third.
“Holy crap,” I whispered. “There’s another heartbeat here. It’s different than ours and the cats’.”
“Could that be the one you’re looking for?”
“Maybe.” I followed my hearing, moving slowly through the rooms and passing by hundreds of cats. Some of them looked curious, some looked pissed, and most just slept.
Mayhem followed along, staying out of reach of the cats’ claws.
The heartbeat that I sought grew louder and louder as I neared. Finally, we reached a sitting room that looked no different than the rest. Lots of furniture, lots of cats.
And one cat, sleeping in the middle of the room, which had a heartbeat as loud as a drum.
I pointed to him. “That’s him, but he’s not any different than the rest.”
“Even I can hear his heartbeat,” Cade said. “Just barely, but it’s louder than the rest.”
The cat was gray and small, stretched out on a little bed that was shaped like a heart. Mayhem fluttered over to the cat, looking at it with suspicion. It was the first one she’d shown interest in, which only went to prove my theory.
I approached slowly. “This is weird. It’s too easy.”
Would he turn into a tiger when I touched him? What the heck was this?
“How can I help?” Cade said. “Normally I’d have an idea of what’s needed but this…this is strange.”
“No kidding.” I stopped a few feet from the cat and stretched out my hand, gently touching his back. His fur was soft, and he stretched, his little toes pointing outward.
Then he started purring.
“What the crap?” I shifted closer, petting him again.
He stretched and purred louder.
This was going too well.
Tension thrummed through my muscles as I got closer, stopping when I stood over the cat. I scooped one hand under his side and wrapped my other around his middle, pulling him upright. I got him up on his feet and tried to pick him up, but he stopped solid.
He kept purring.
I pulled, but it was like he was nailed to the heart bed. Except the cat didn’t seem to mind a bit. As hard as I pulled, he stayed right where he was, standing like he was waiting for his food bowl to be filled.
“What’s wrong?” Cade asked.
“I can’t pick him up.” I panted, pulling on the cat’s middle like I was trying to heave a thousand-pound block off the floor.
Mayhem fluttered by my head, confused and wary.
“What the hell kind of magic is this?” I demanded.
“Want me to try?”
“Sure.” We were technically allowed to complete the challenge together, after all.
Cade bent over the cat, wrapping his big hands around the creature’s middle. He tried picking him up, but jerked to a stop.
“Aye, that’s weird.” He pulled harder, face turning red.
The cat didn’t move. His fur didn’t even rustle, and he never stopped purring.
Finally, Cade stepped back, sweat dripping down his brow. “He’s not moving an inch.”
“Let me try again.” I moved toward the cat, wrapping my hands around his waist and pulling.
Nothing.
I pulled harder, mind racing. There was something weird about this cat. I could hear its insanely loud heartbeat. And its fur felt weird under my hands all of a sudden.
Almost scaly. But smooth. And rough.
What was going on?
A sense that something was wrong filled me.
Not true.
The words filtered through my mind.
Not true.
I shook my head, but the words continued to echo. It was vaguely similar to what happened when a new power came online. But this one was telling me that something was false about this situation.
I strained, trying to pick up the cat, as visions flashed in my mind. They clouded my head, fuzzing my thoughts.
A giant serpent appeared in my mind—thousands of miles long and hundreds wide. Fear raced through me, freezing in my veins as I struggled with the cat.
On the outside, the situation was ridiculous. I was struggling to pick up a ten-pound cat.
But in my mind, I was underneath a massive serpent, fighting a battle to keep it from crushing me. It was a creature so large that my mind couldn’t conceive of it. Green scales covered the beast—like the ones I swore I could feel on the cat.
Its weight pressed me down. My chest tightened, breath rushing from my lungs. Panic filled me like acid. I pushed at the serpent, whose belly was crushing me into the dirt. I had become trapped under the beast somehow, and its great weight would kill me.
I gasped, straining, giving it everything I had. Blackness clouded the edges of my vision.
Not true.
The voice echoed again, fainter this time.
I shook my head, my brain and my body in two separate places. One fought the weight of the serpent, the other tried to pick up the cat.
I had to do something different. It was nearly impossible to breathe now, my mind convincing me that the scene playing out in my head was real.
But it couldn’t be, could it?
I gasped, yanking my hands away from the cat’s belly.
Pick up the cat.
Utgard-Loki’s words echoed in my head. I had to pick up this damn cat. Somehow.
I reached for its front paw, wrapping my hands around the little leg. The tiny creature kept purring—I’d have felt ridiculous if my mind weren’t convinced I was fighting a giant serpent’s weight.
I yanked as hard as I could, pulling the leg with everything I had.
Finally, the weight on my chest decreased. The serpent that was crushing me in my mind lifted. The paw rose off the ground. Just an inch.
But it was enough for me to roll out from underneath the body of the serpent.
In the real world—the one not inside my own crazy mind—I let go of the cat’s paw and flung myself away from it, landing on the rug.
Panting, I stared at the ceiling. I rubbed my chest, still feeling the ache of the serpent’s weight.
“Are you all right?” Cade appeared above me, leaning down, a look of concern on his face.
“Yeah.” I struggled to catch my breath. “I have no idea what just happened. It was like I was trying not to be crushed by a giant snake.”
“All I saw was a slightly annoyed cat.”
I scowled at him.
“Not that you’re wrong.” He held up his hands, placating.
I rubbed my head. “I think it was all in my mind, but I can’t quite figure it out.”
“What are you doing here!?” The screech made Cade fly backward and me jump up.
I was on my feet a half second later, heart thundering. Cade had turned to face an old woman. She was skinny and small, with a lined face and gray hair. Her dark clothes looked like a strange, ragged cloak.
“I’m sorry. We were told to come here.”
“And pester my cats?!” She
was so irate that I thought her head might turn purple.
We’d met the ultimate cat lady. Not that I liked to play off stereotypes. But she was a lady and she had a lot of cats.
“I’m sorry. Utgard-Loki told me to come here.” And he’d also told me to fight someone.
When the old lady flew at me, fast as a rocket, my brain stutter-stepped. He couldn’t possibly mean her?
The confusion cost me.
She delivered a jump-kick to my chest that sent me crashing into the wall. Pain flared in my whole body, and through cloudy eyes, I caught sight of her whirl like a tornado and hit Cade with another kick. He flew into the opposite wall, scattering cats that hissed and yowled with rage.
The little gray cat had lain back down on the heart bed in the middle of the floor, completely unconcerned, as the rest of the cats fled.
Yep, something was weird about that cat.
I scrambled to my feet and approached the old woman, my hands raised. “I don’t want to fight.”
“Well, I do.” She cackled and raced for me, raising her fist.
I dodged, and she hit the air. Then she came at me with her other hand, landing a blow to my cheek that sent me spinning like a top.
She shrieked her glee and jumped on me. I thrashed as she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing my middle so tight that a rib cracked.
I could freaking hear it.
The pain nearly made me vomit.
Her hold broke suddenly, and I spun to see Cade yank her off me. He hesitated, a mistake I’d never seen him make, and she used it to her advantage, turning and swinging for him with her mean right hook.
Like me, he was fast enough to dodge the first, but not the second. She nailed him in the cheek, having to strike upward in an awkward position since he was so tall.
The power was there, however, because Cade spun around, blood flying from his mouth.
Holy fates, this was no normal old woman.
Truth.
Okay, weird. I had a new power that didn’t know when to assert itself. I didn’t need it to tell me this old lady wasn’t normal, that was for sure.
She lunged for Cade, her arms outstretched in a maneuver I knew would allow her to break his ribs. I lunged for her, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her away from him. I let go, sending her flying across the room.
Fast as a snake, she got her balance and turned on me, lunging and throwing me to the ground. She went down with me, straddling my waist. Her grip dug into my shoulders, crushing.
Pain flared and tears burned my eyes. I punched, nailing her in the cheek. She barely twitched.
For a second, a vision flashed in my mind, making it look like a black cloak covered her. Pain flared again, driving the image from my head.
I pushed her shoulders, trying to heave her off of me.
She didn’t budge. Now that I wasn’t catching her by surprise, she couldn’t be moved. She was just too damned strong. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds, but she stayed stuck to me, her hands moving toward my throat to strangle me.
Crap!
I needed to be stronger.
I pushed, giving it everything I had. Suddenly, strength flowed through my muscles. Energy and power.
Use it.
The voice echoed in my head.
Use it.
Oh fates! This was another new gift. I pushed harder, and she budged a few inches. Cade appeared behind her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling hard.
But she was ready for him this time—or ready for me, maybe. Either way, she didn’t move.
So I pushed harder, using the new magic that flowed through me. It was physical strength—like a freaking Olympian’s. I shoved, finally heaving her off me, then leapt onto her.
We wrestled, rolling over each other on the ground as we tried to land our hits. She seemed to deliver more, though maybe it seemed that way because every one hurt like the devil. My whole body felt bruised as we fought our way across the floor.
Any guilt I’d had over beating up an old person was long gone.
No matter how hard we fought, neither of us could get the upper hand. And Cade couldn’t get a move in edgewise. She’d move out of his way like a snake, or lash out with a quick fist.
Even Mayhem tried, but the woman dodged her flame easily.
I didn’t know how long we fought, but eventually, we both lay side by side, panting. Every inch of me ached like it’d been run over by a train. Like a billion trains had run over me, each one squishing a single cell.
Through bleary eyes, I saw Cade on the other side of the room, collapsed like us. Somehow, she’d managed to beat him up, too, laying out both of us like we were rookies in a major league fighting ring. Or whatever it was called, where super fighters fought. My brain was mush and no longer working.
Noise sounded from beside me, and I looked over. The old woman heaved herself to her feet and turned to me.
I stared death in the eyes.
She would kill me. There was no way I could win this. Every bone felt broken. Every muscle torn.
“Enough!” The voice boomed down from above.
Utgard-Loki.
Please be calling it quits.
The old woman glared at me, then turned and left.
I groaned, gratitude welling up inside me.
“You okay?” I asked Cade.
He groaned. “Just had my arse kicked by an old woman.”
I laughed. A cat appeared, looking down at me. Then it bit my nose.
“Hey!” I tried to swat at it, but my arm was too injured to move.
I lay still, calling upon my healing power as the cat stared down at me, green eyes flashing. It was a calico, and really pretty despite the annoyance in its eyes. Something poked under my back, soft and squishy.
Once my muscles and bones had mended—bringing with it sweet relief—I rolled over, praying I wasn’t crushing a cat.
I looked behind me, spotting a crumpled blue fluffy thing.
A cat bed.
Whew.
The calico curled up in the bed, glaring at me.
“Sorry. Sorry.” I struggled to my feet, finally able to move.
Cade limped to me. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Amen.” I leaned against him, and we stumbled through the house. Mayhem disappeared. “I sure hope we won.”
“It’s not looking great.”
“I don’t know.” Memories flashed in my mind. “It wasn’t as simple as it appeared.”
“That old lady certainly wasn’t simple.”
“They never are.” I limped out the front door and looked up at Utgard-Loki.
He scowled down at me.
Before I could say anything, a hand picked me up by the back of my jacket. I swung limply. “I’m getting sick of this shit!”
Utgard-Loki laughed. If I’d been big enough to punch him, I’d have given him the Old Lady Special.
I healed the rest of my injuries as they carried us back to the main hall. The place was just as huge as ever, and with my depleted strength and magic, it was even scarier. Especially since we failed the contests.
Or had we?
Something kept bugging me about what had happened. Actually, many somethings. The cat’s scaly body, the visions of the serpent, the way the old woman’s image had flickered to reveal someone wearing a cloak. Someone like death. The man who raced us.
Hugi.
The name…
So familiar.
I’d read it somewhere. And it was similar to Huginn’s name. Huginn, the raven whose name meant thought.
That was it! Hugi was thought. No one could be as fast as a thought.
Annoyance streaked through me.
We’d been had.
My captor set me on the table. I couldn’t help but notice it had been set with enormous silver plates.
Because we were to be dinner? We’d hardly be a snack. We were what got stuck in a giant’s teeth.
“Well?” I shouted up. “Did w
e win?”
Cade chuckled.
I glanced at him and whispered, “Can you tell I’m fed up?”
“Just a little.” He grinned, but the smile faded. “Though we might be about to become giant chow.”
I looked up at Utgard-Loki. Syn had come to stand beside him. She was in her larger giant form, though as a god, she should be roughly my size.
Had she given me her magic back in the cottage so I could see that something wasn’t truthful about the cat?
She inclined her head to me.
She had!
“You did not win,” Utgard-Loki said. “And now you will become dinner.”
“Not true!” I shouted it. I felt it. He was lying. Syn’s power raced through me. I could feel that he was lying. “The contest was rigged.”
“Oh, how so?”
“Hugi! You tried to make us race thought. No one can outrun their thoughts.”
Utgard-Loki grumbled.
“And something was weird about that cat.” That was when Syn’s powers had come into play. “It was a giant snake. Jörmungandr?”
I guessed the name of the world snake, the serpent that was wrapped around the earth. I just threw the name out there, having no idea if it was true, but it was the only snake I could think of besides Níðhöggr, and that snake had looked different than the one in my vision.
Utgard-Loki grumbled, but Syn said, “Truth.”
“Thank you!” I glared at Utgard-Loki. “You’re the trickster Jötunn, and you’re trying to pull a trick on us. What was the deal with that damned snake?”
“Magic, of course,” he said. “The cat was actually Jörmungandr, as you guessed. And you lifted him up. Just a little.”
I wanted to fist pump my victory. “When I lifted his paw?”
“Yes. How did you do it?”
“I am the Valkyrie Dragon God. Of course I could do it.” Because a god had given me power. A god of strength. Had to be Magni, son of Thor. I looked at Syn, who seemed to understand me. “Magni?”
She nodded.
“Did you give me the power of discerning the truth?” I asked.
“I did, but you are weak with it. Unable to interpret. That will take practice.”
“You what?” Utgard-Loki bellowed.
She smacked him on the arm, a dismissive gesture more than a violent one. “I am a guest, Utgard-Loki, and I do as I see fit. The gods support Bree—most of us, at least. We assisted her with that challenge—though some of us made it more difficult for her as well.”