Valkyrie

by Raythe Reign

  He nodded. “I guess.” He thought of Liam’s description of his mother’s life with her mother. There was a huge, dark history there that he didn’t want to think about. He cleared his voice and said, “Anyways, Loki won’t agree to open the Bifrost until the Aesir give him what he’s asked for. He claims that Odin knows what he wants, but won’t give it to him so he’s keeping the rainbow bridge closed.”

  She frowned. “But people are being harmed by this Gash. Innocent people! Juan is not a morally weak man and those children —”

  “I know. He’s not doing it just to be contrary. He thinks that it’s better if the Aesir don’t come back for other reasons, too,” he interrupted.

  “Or perhaps he just likes being the only god here,” she said with a suspicious look.

  “Maybe.” But then he thought of Loki’s longing for Thor. “Or maybe he really does believe having Odin telling humanity what to do is for the best.”

  His mother reached out and touched his arm. The flesh was normal colored now. No longer did it glow that brilliant blue. “And this ability you have … to freeze things? Where does that come from? You’re not a Valkyrie, are you?”

  “No, that’s … a little more complicated to explain,” he paused. How could he explain that they had the blood of gods in their veins in a way that wouldn’t have her laughing and looking at him incredulously? Then he realized there likely was no way. “We’re descended from the Aesir. Specifically, from Odin, Thor and … and Loki.”

  She blinked at him. He wasn’t sure she had heard him as she remained silent for a long time.

  He continued on, “ We have Frost Giant blood in our veins. I just somehow got a bigger dose of it. Hence I can freeze things.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. It was best to dissuade her from thinking too hard on this. His mother would see the magic as a weapon that he immediately needed to understand and control for fear it would hurt others. And maybe she would be right about that, but he didn’t want to have her lecture him about it.

  “I see.”

  “I doubt it. You’ve never believed in these things, Mom. You’ve taken every ounce of your being to deny anything beyond your senses,” he pointed out and tried - mostly unsuccessfully - to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Wasn’t she the cause of him trying to hide all these years the things he thought and felt that weren’t “normal”?

  She reached for him again, but he took a step out of her reach. She dropped her hand to her side and he tried not to notice her disappointment. “I know you are angry with me for many things, Cameron —”

  “That’s in the past,” he interrupted.

  Surprised, she blinked, “I — yes, it is.”

  “But what I want to know is whether you’re going to realize how wrong you were in the past and be different in the future,” he said, his gaze flickering over her face.

  “I’m not one to disbelieve something I see. The Gash is real. Liam is … back. We’re related to the Aesir and you have magical powers. Being hysterical or disbelieving about it would be a waste of time and energy. Besides, the Gash is a threat to this city,” she said.

  “It’s bigger than just the city, Mom. This is a being that would destroy the Nine Realms if it could. Your narrow view won’t work.”

  “We aren’t gods ourselves, Cameron. We have enough in this city, in this block alone, to deal with. We can’t take on the world,” she told him.

  There was something in what she said, but he felt the power inside of him swirling, growing, wanting to reach out and destroy. He heard a creaking sound and saw ice crystals forming in the Coke. He took a breath and the crystals melted.

  “You’re acting pretty calm about this, Mom. I just hope you aren’t in denial,” he said, knowing that this was a backhanded compliment.

  “I can’t deny what I’ve experienced. Not anymore,” she said.

  She wouldn’t be so sanguine about Liam and me. She would be darn right hysterical. She’d try to take Liam from me, convince him that what’s between us is wrong, and claim I’m mentally ill. I just know it.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and found anger rising in him again though she had done none of that. Not yet anyways. It was then that he saw the little boy in a hospital gown, trailing tubes skip past the alcove where he and his mother were standing by the soda machines. The lights in the hallway snapped and fizzled, growing almost completely dark before the lights rebounded and the dirty yellow illumination grew brighter than before it had gone nearly out. The boy was somehow so jarring that he didn’t believe he’d really seen the child.

  “Cameron, what is it?” his mother asked, but she didn’t turn to see where he was looking. She was staring at the Coke bottle in his hand. He looked down and saw that it had frozen solid. He dropped it into the trash can. It made a dull thunking sound as it hit the bottom of the can.

  “What did you see?” she asked, her blue eyes haunted.

  “I don’t know. Maybe nothing,” he said, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness in that child. “Something’s not right.”

  He stepped past her into the hallway and stared down where the boy had disappeared. He heard his mother unsnap the holster of her gun and draw it out. She stepped up behind him. Both of them looked down the hallway, too. There was no sign of the child. The nurses’ station appeared as empty as it had before, but there was a difference than there had been before. He started to advance down the hallway. His mother closed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Let me go first, Cameron,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think bullets are going to do the job, Mom.” He held up his hands to show her that they were the strange, magnetic blue. “But these might.”

  They both looked down at those strange hands and they were proof that he was not human, that they were not human. They had the blood of gods in their veins and he could literally see his.

  “The Aesir are real,” she whispered.

  “They’re watching us, Mom. They watch us all the time. Rooting for us to succeed,” he said.

  Their gazes met, and through the awe, he saw understanding in her gaze for the first time. This wasn’t something happening outside of them. This was something happening to them. It was all around them and in them.

  They started down the hall again. They’d only taken a few steps more when he saw the spreading dark spreading pool on the ground. It looked black under the yellow and blue lights. He drew up straight.

  “Oh, no,” his mother breathed, but said nothing more.

  They step up further and he could see the doctor and nurse’s bodies. These looked to be the same two that had been in Juan’s room. Their faces looked … chewed. His stomach did these slow flips. Their throats were worried at like a dog might have done. But it was no dog that did this. There were small, child’s sized footprints leading in blood leading from the bodies as if the child had jumped up and down in the pools of it before heading away. And where was away?

  His head jerked toward the door of Juan’s hospital room. The door was closed.

  “Cameron, let me —”

  “Mom,” he said firmly and she stopped speaking.

  “What is going on here? Did the Gash do this? It couldn’t have been a child …” her voice dropped off. Her face was pale as milk. He saw her throat move as she swallowed. But she kept it together. His mother always kept it together.

  “You follow me. Do you understand?” he asked her. He sounded certain and confident, but he desperately wanted Liam there.

  What if something happened to Liam? He mentally shook himself. No, Liam is fine. He’s with Nafari … somewhere. We just have to deal with this. Whatever this is. I can do this. I can freeze anything solid. The Gash ran from me before. It left Juan.

  Cameron curled his hands into fists. Both of them turned towards Juan’s room. Without talking, his mother went to the side of the door, her gun held straight down by her side, while he stood in front of it. She reached across to the door handle, depressed the handle a
nd shoved it open.

  The last time that Cameron had looked into that room there had been hope and normalacy, but not any longer. Juan still lay on the hospital bed, but though still unconscious, his head was tossing on the pillow from side to side and a slick layer of sweat coated his face. Standing at the side of his bed was the little boy with the tubes.

  The boy looked to be about eight or ten. He was thin as a reed, his bones poking through his flesh like sticks holding up a tent cover. There was a sallow color to his skin. There were dark circles under his eyes so dark that they looked like black pits. Some of his hair was missing and what was left looked dull and lifeless. His total affect was one of sickness, terrible, deathly sickness … except for the smile on his face.

  He froze, but his mother rushed in, gun raised in both hands, ready to blow away whatever had killed the doctor and nurse and was going to harm Juan. However, when she saw the child, her arms lowered, and confusion showed in every line of her body.

  The boy had laid one bony hand on the center of Juan’s chest and Cameron knew - though he wasn’t sure exactly how he knew it - that this simple touch was killing Juan. If he didn’t get that boy’s hand off of Juan’s body the deputy would die.

  Cameron pushed past his mother into the room. His arms were like frost-fire. The Gash had somehow gotten into this child so he would have to make it leave like he’d made it leave Juan. He took a step towards the child.

  “You understand so much already, Cameron,” the boy said, but his affect was just like Juan had been. “But you don’t understand the most important thing.”

  Cameron paused. “I don’t really care what you think I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, but you do. Because you can’t get me out of this boy like you did with the deputy.” The boy smiled and there was blood running down his gums.

  “I’m pretty sure I can,” Cameron growled.

  “I should rephrase that. You can make me leave this body, yes, but I’ll just go onto another of course,” the Gash said. “But this body will die. For unlike the deputy’s this body is frail and your magic will destroy the last sparks of life within it.”

  “But if I don’t get you out of that body you’ll kill Juan,” Cameron realized.

  The Gash nodded. “Exactly! So you see what you need to understand is that, in the end, there is nothing you can do to stop me. The best you can hope to do is determine who dies: This child or the deputy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: BRING THE LIGHTNING

  Hello, Valkyries, want to play?

  Liam felt a burst of rage at the wrongness of this. The Gash had always picked those with moral weaknesses, because it was easier to possess them. They would open themselves to it, because it offered them what they secretly desired. But this girl – these children – were only weak because they were near death and the Gash had shoved itself inside of them and now wanted to play its sick little games with more innocents.

  “No,” Liam breathed out. He would not allow it. He would not play the way the Gash wanted.

  His hands fisted at his sides and he felt a burst of energy leave him as if his righteous rage had become a wave that had flowed out from him. The fluorescent light above him suddenly snapped and buzzed.

  The little girl, bald as a robin’s egg, raised her eyes to the ceiling where the fluorescent light directly above her was crackling with blue-white light instead of the ugly yellow glow it had been casting moments ago. Her head dipped down and her brown eyes fixed on Liam.

  Bring the lightning. Destroy the darkness, someone said or perhaps he just heard the words in his mind.

  “Bring the lightning?” the little girl repeated the voice in a shocked whisper and the mirth from earlier was gone altogether.

  Nafari turned to look at Liam, too. There was something in his face that Liam couldn’t read. It looked like awe or fear or both. He breathed out, “Liam …”

  “No, I will not allow this,” Liam growled, ignoring his friend as he focused on the darkness inside of the girl. He could almost see the Gash’s shadowy, spindly form wavering inside her chest.

  “Want to – want to … play?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

  “No. Never. These are innocents. You do not belong in them. You do not belong here at all!”

  The little girl took a step back from him. Liam found himself taking a step towards her. The blue-white light suddenly jumped from one fluorescent light to the next. Nafari gasped and his wings appeared for one moment in the flash of lightning that seemed to connect the two lights.

  “You can’t do this.” The little girl scampered back two more steps. Her naked feet were like pale starfish against the Formica tiled floor.

  Bring the lightning. You can do this, Liam. It’s in your blood. Destroy the darkness, the voice whispered and he thought for a moment that it was Thor’s.

  He thought of the Aesir. He felt the full attention of Thor upon him, urging him on, trying to send him power to do … something. Liam didn’t know if this was really happening or whether it was his feverish imaginings that he had the ability to save these children with Thor’s help.

  In the past, the Valkyrie’s only recourse was to kill the Gash’s host, but those hosts had been people who were willing participants in their own corruption, adults that were so destroyed by the Gash’s presence inside them already, that it was more like pulling a human-fleshed mask off of the Gash’s monstrous dark form. But the Gash had changed the game that day. Cameron had frightened it – if such a thing was possible – and now it was showing them who was boss by using the bodies of innocent kids to attack them. It clearly believed that the Valkyrie were damned if they did act and kill its hosts or damned if they didn’t and the hosts were allowed to harm others.

  This lack of choice, this change of the rules of engagement, made Liam so angry that there was a thunderous roaring in his ears. He knew it was the rushing of his own blood.

  My blood. Thor’s blood runs through my veins. Thor … if only I could reach him! If only I could connect us in some way so that he could act through me! The power of the Aesir could reach out and stop this wrongful thing! If only …

  Liam envisioned that the rainbow bridge was open above his head. He pictured its radiance spilling down on top of him. He imagined that Thor’s power and well wishes were flowing down the Bifrost and reaching him here in this dingy hallway with an endangered child. He felt his wings rustle in a suddenly cool breeze that was sweetened by the scent of flowers, blowing away the stench of antiseptic and blood and feces and fear.

  “You can’t,” the girl repeated, but her eyes said that he might do whatever it was that she denied so vociferously.

  More children’s heads popped out of doorways. He could see the Gash within each of them, too. Spindly thin shadows like slashes through their hearts and minds. They hopped on crippled limbs. There were tubes seeping blood and drugs dragging on the floor behind them. Some were hairless. All were gaunt and wasted from cancer and the drugs that fought it and their bodies at the same time.

  Liam gritted his teeth. The Gash had dragged these poor children from their hospital beds to play with them. The third fluorescent light burned blue white and sparks fell to the floor as it burned.

  “Thor’s not here. He’s locked away!” a boy with a bandaged arm cried out. His voice was as hollow as the girl’s.

  “The Aesir are gone! They can do nothing against me!” a girl in the next room shouted.

  “I banished them!” another child down the long row of doors called out.

  Bring the lightning. Destroy the darkness, the voice urged again. It was stronger now. He swore it spoke directly into his right ear.

  There was another sweetly-scented breeze and he remembered the palace of Asgard. He imagined Thor in the hall of feasting with the other Aesir. Each of them watching him, hands clenched, jaws gritted, as they impotently wished they were present to help him. He thought he caught a scent of wood smoke.

  Thor? He called. Imagin
ing his voice traveling up the rainbow bridge to the powerful Thunder God.

  His mind envisioned Thor jerking in one of the large seats, the Thunder God’s eyes going large and then a look of determination flowing over his beautiful face. Liam, Liam, bring the lightning.

  An image of lightning streaking down the hallway, hitting each child, appeared in his mind’s eye.

  But won’t it kill the children? Liam asked.

  No. Only the darkness inside of them. The Gash wasn’t able to dig deep in them yet so it is still too separate to hide from the lightning. You can do this, Liam. I know you can, Thor assured him.

  Thor, be with me, he found himself praying.

  Always, Thor answered.

  Calmness filled Liam. His skin buzzed with electricity. The lights above them sparked and spat like electric cobras, but he knew that they were his to control. The electricity would dart towards his targets when he chose. It would burn away the darkness. It would split the world wide.

  The first little girl that had first approached them, tilted her chin up, a look of ancient and arrogance in her slender, frail form that was as alien on her as the darkness within her. “You cannot bring the lightning.”

  He smiled at the Gash inside of her and said, “Yes, I can. Thor is with me.”

  He closed his eyes and electricity surged inside of him and around him. His wings filled the width of the hallway as the power he commanded surged. He opened his eyes and thrust his arms out in front of him and lightning streamed from his fingers and danced down the hallway. It jumped, too, from the lights above them, the bulbs shattering into a million pieces as the electricity left the fixtures. It also rushed from light sockets and dashed down the hallway.

  It hit first the girl who the Gash had used to approach them. Her mouth opened in an ‘O’ of shock. Her body was lifted two feet off the ground. There was a nimbus of blue-white around her and then she fell to the ground. The other children only had time to let out half a cry before they, too, were hit by lightning. Some had tried hobbling away from the blue-white light, but the lightning reached all of them, sending them flying then sprawling.