Conspiracy of Ravens

by J. C. McKenzie

  Cole Camhanaich, the Mouth of the Night to First Light, escorted her through Odin’s hall of fallen warriors. Battered shields lined the walls and swords hung overhead as rafters. The air, laden with the smell of metal, wood and earth, drifted by on swaths of heat. A gold roof reflected the light from the fire pits. If Raven’s stomach hadn’t busied itself by twisting into knots, she would’ve enjoyed the sight. Maybe. Imminent death had a way of ruining the moment.

  Feasting tables filled with battle-worn fighters lined the aisle. The warriors, some handsome, some not, all with the eerie, slightly off aura that often adhered to the once dead, sat on the edge of seats made from breastplates of victims. At least, that’s where she assumed they came from. The fighters sat in stiff silence—their boisterous partying paused the moment Cole and Raven stepped past the wolves guarding the gates and walked through the entrance.

  “Easy.” Cole leaned down to whisper in her ear, “They can sense your nerves.”

  The wolves trotted past them and loped ahead through Odin’s hall. When they reached the bottom steps of a dais at the end of the aisle, Raven and Cole stopped. Without their footsteps marking their progress, silence settled over the room. The two wolves bounded up the steps and flopped down to lay by the feet of the lone man sitting on a large throne made of skulls. A pair of ravens perched on the man’s broad shoulders snapped their heads in her direction. Black beady eyes scanned her, assessing, judging, and who-new-what-ing. The weight of their attention unwavering. Her skin tingled. The dark energy inside her twisted as if it had a mind of its own and wanted out to play.

  Where the heck were the exits?

  Odin had wrapped his long, blood-red cloak around him, hiding whatever body armour he wore underneath. He resembled a buff Santa Claus...after he fell off the sleigh, banged a few strippers, pumped a shitload of iron straight into his veins, and fought for the wrong side in a turf war, but somehow survived to tell the tale. Okay, maybe he didn’t look like jolly-old Nick at all, but he had a long gray beard. A long scar ran from the middle of his forehead, over his white eye, to mid-cheek.

  Her stomach twisted into an even tighter knot, and she cursed Bear for getting her into this hot mess. The black feather she’d retrieved from her brother’s safe house burned against her skin. She’d secured it with the waistband of her jeans before covering the feather with her blouse. Mike had sniffed it earlier—wasn’t hers.

  Odin turned his ice blue and white gaze to Cole and nodded. “Beul na h-Oidhche gu Camhanaich, son of Erebus, welcome to my hall. What is the purpose of your visit? Are you here on Lloth’s behalf?”

  Lloth? Who was that? Raven eyed Cole, but he kept his attention forward. Guess Odin represented more of a threat than her curiosity. Fair enough.

  “I’m here as an escort.” Cole’s voice rumbled with ease as he flicked a hand in her direction, his body language casual.

  Odin’s steely gaze narrowed as he assessed Raven. Her sister’s textbooks said Odin was one of the few beings from the Underworld with blue eyes. The “experts” said the distinction was probably due to his superior power.

  Odin’s scarred lip snarled up. “And who are you?”

  She cleared her throat. “My name is Raven.” She dug out Odin’s card from her pocket and held it up. “You sent this calling card to my brother.”

  “Your brother.” Odin sneered. “Not you.”

  “Please. My brother has gone missing, and this is my only clue.”

  Odin scoffed and leaned back in his thrown. His fingers taped along the armrest. “What is your brother’s name?”

  “Bear.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “His real name is Bjorn.” Bjorn was a common Scandinavian name, but Cole had explained how Odin rarely gifted a calling card to anyone. “Bjorn Crawford.”

  Odin stilled. His fingers stopped tapping. Slowly, he leaned forward and squinted. “He never said he had a sister. Twin?”

  Unease flittered along her skin. That was a freakishly good guess. She looked nothing like her brother. And why had Odin suddenly become so interested? Obviously, he recognized her brother’s name, but what did that mean? Should she prepare for imminent smiting? At least she’d stuffed the last donut from her dad’s office in her mouth. The sugary sweetness still coated her mouth.

  She swallowed and met the war god’s gaze. “Yes.”

  Odin straightened in his throne. He turned to one raven on his shoulder, then the other. “Huginn. Muninn.”

  The enormous black birds launched from Odin’s shoulders in unison. With heavy beats of their wings, they rose above the king. Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s spies.

  Raven froze. What were they going to do? Spy her to death?

  At least twice the size of regular ravens, the birds swooped down the stairs toward her. A strangled cry erupted from her mouth. Before they reached her, they careened into each other with a loud croak that shook the hall. The metal shields rattled, the swords clanked. Some of the warriors cursed.

  The air shimmered and in place of two birds, a large, intimidating man stood in their place. Clad in black armour similar to Cole’s, his dark Other gaze swept the room as he slowly descended the stairs with the grace of a vicious warrior. A long flowing cloak made of raven feathers trailed behind him and slipped down the stone surface of each step.

  “Huginn and Muninn. Thought and Memory. My greatest creation.” Odin’s voice boomed from behind the immense warrior.

  Raven stood transfixed at the approaching warrior. He looked oddly familiar. Something about his jawline.

  “They are forged from my own essence—blood of my blood,” Odin continued.

  The giant man stopped in front of Raven and peered down at her, dark brows furrowed, black gaze blazing.

  “And so too, are you, it seems,” Odin said.

  Huh?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What’s done in darkness always comes to light.”

  ~Unknown

  Understanding slapped Raven across the face like a cold, dead fish. Harsh and rank. Now she saw it. The familiar jawline, the broad shoulders and straight nose. The Huginn-Muninn-combo eerily resembled her twin brother, she should’ve made the connection sooner.

  “Daddy?” Her mouth fell open and she gawked at Odin. Surely not. Surely, she’d have some more badass skills if she was the child of Odin.

  The God of War shook his head and nodded at Huginn Muninn standing in front of her. Oh. She closed her mouth and peered up at the intimidating warrior. The warriors in Odin’s hall faded in the background. “You’re my biological father?”

  Cole stiffened beside her, his expression alert. Shadows gathered around them, pulled from the summer night.

  “You have grown into a beautiful, young woman, just like we knew you would, little raven.” The man tilted his head and blinked his dark Other eyes. The scent of a densely wooded glen rolled off his body. Not just his face hit the familiarity button in her brain, his smell did, too. But how? He had to get close enough for her to capture his scent.

  “You watched me,” she said. Her mind reeled. What did this mean? Odin was her grandfather? Two mythical birds who combined to form one giant warrior were her father? How was that even possible? “You watched us.”

  He nodded. “An easy task, given your abilities and that of your brother’s.”

  What’s two more ravens sitting in a tree? His explanation made sense. Should she be creeped out? Odin’s spies had, well, spied on her. Oddly, her skin didn’t itch or tingle. Instead, she grew warm, and had to suppress the urge to leap forward and hug her biological father. Then she remembered how alone they’d been before Mom met Dad.

  “Did you spy on my mother, too?” The question came out more accusatory than she intended.

  Huginn Muninn tilted his head, much like a bird would. “Sometimes.”

  “You have your share of women.” Odin bellowed from somewhere behind Huginn Muninn. “What made this one so special?”

  “She
was wild,” Huginn Muninn said. “She was unapologetic.” This time, Huginn Muninn spoke with a slightly deeper voice.

  “She was the most beautiful thing we’d ever seen.” A two-toned voice erupted from her biological father’s mouth, as if two people spoke at once.

  Huginn Muninn nodded to himself.

  Raven rubbed her arms. Okay, now she was a little creeped out. Instead of one individual splitting a single consciousness into multiple birds, Huginn Muninn appeared to have two distinct personalities that fused into one being. Was her biological father two birds who shifted into a human, or a human with multiple personalities who shifted into two birds?

  Did it really matter?

  Odin growled from his throne. “I ordered you to terminate your woman when...” He clamped his mouth shut and his gaze slid to Raven.

  He didn’t need to finish the sentence, but she did it for him anyway. “When you discovered she was pregnant.” Asshole.

  Odin grumbled, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he leaned back in his throne and folded his arms across his considerable chest, expression defiant, body language challenging. Right, like she’d screech out a war cry and launch herself at the father of all warriors. She liked her head where it was, thanks.

  Huginn Muninn turned to his, their, father. “You ordered us to kill her if she ever stepped into the Underworld again. She didn’t.”

  Odin’s glare turned cold. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t figure out a way to lure her into the Other Realms.”

  A twinkle sparkled in Huginn Muninn’s gaze as he looked back to Raven. That look told her everything she needed to know. If he wasn’t capable of loving her mother, he at least genuinely cared for her.

  “That wasn’t your order,” Huginn Muninn said.

  The reason for her mother’s hatred of the Other Realms now made sense. She didn’t hate Others at all. She feared them. As if she knew what fate awaited her the moment she exited a portal to the Underworld. As if Huginn Muninn warned her.

  Mom forbade Bear and Raven from entering the Other Realms, too. Maybe she feared her children would face the same fate.

  Cold prickled Raven’s skin.

  That’s why Mom urged them to hide their nature. Pieces of her past clicked into place like a demented jigsaw puzzle. A lot of weird stuff from her childhood suddenly made sense.

  “You defied me?” Odin growled.

  “Not technically.”

  Huginn Muninn’s lips turned into a brief smile. He shifted to place his body slightly in front of Raven, partially blocking the heat and light from the fire pits. Their crackling broke the stiff silence in the hall.

  Odin narrowed his eyes. “You would fight me now?”

  “No, Father.” Huginn Muninn bowed his head.

  “But you wish to protect your daughter, as you would your son?”

  “Yes,” he hissed with the dual tone. “We have never asked for anything, Father. We have nothing of our own. Except this. Except her. And him.”

  Raven’s heart swelled. Huginn Muninn would never replace Dad, but the protective look her way, and his defiance in the face of the Allfather, she’d find no enemy in her biological father, or rather, fathers.

  How did that even work? What was the correct pronoun for this situation?

  “Very well.” Odin grunted. “Their mortal lives are insignificant, but they carry my blood, and they have the potential to pass it on.”

  Cole’s posture relaxed and the shadows pooling by his feet withdrew.

  Odin stood in one smooth move, defying his wizened appearance. The red cloak fell away, revealing its tattered and shredded condition, and the dented armour with scorch marks he wore beneath. In a previous battle, probably many generations before her existence, something ferocious with long claws had swiped Odin’s midsection in an attempt to disembowel him. Obviously, the god’s opponent was unsuccessful, but it had left some pretty wicked claw marks on the armour as a memory. Did Odin thumb the jagged edges when he reminisced about the good old days? Did the slashed metal bring a soft smile to his face, or a scowl?

  Odin stomped down the stairs before her. His armour creaked with each step and his cloak whispered against the stone floor.

  Huginn Muninn and Cole tensed.

  “If she is to carry my blood and name, she should carry it well.” Odin closed the distance. “There is no weakness in my line, and there must be no weakness in her.”

  Huginn Muninn hesitated briefly before moving aside. Odin stopped in front of her. Up close, the deep scars running down his face became more evident. Calling him grandpa right now would be a mistake. She clamped her mouth shut and bit her tongue.

  “Your brother is known as an unscrupulous thief, with few redeeming qualities. I’d planned to dispose of him when he answered my summons,” Odin said. “Turns out, he has one quality worth sparing his life. It is fortunate you appeared in his place.”

  Huginn Muninn’s head snapped back and his brow furrowed. He curled his hands into fists behind his creator’s back.

  Why on earth would he spare Bear because of her? As much as she’d like to believe she had a winning personality that opened doors, experience told her that wasn’t true. Her life was far from rainbows and unicorn poop.

  “So, you didn’t send Bear to steal something?”

  “I am a war god with legions of fighters at my disposal. I don’t steal.” He leaned in, his meaty breath hitting her face. “I take.”

  Raven’s legs shook. “Noted.”

  With fighter-fast reflexes, he reached out and grasped her face with one calloused hand. His thumb dug into one cheek while his rough fingers sank into the other. His hand smelled of iron, leather, and steak. Well-done steak.

  Shadows surged up and surrounded them in a silent threat.

  “Easy, Lord of Shadows,” Odin murmured.

  Raven’s breath caught. Her heart hammered and she focused on his good eye. Her awareness shrank until only Odin’s image consumed her vision. His ice blue eye bore into her—intense and powerful. She tried to look away but couldn’t. He said she was safe, right? She bit her tongue and tasted blood. The blue from his gaze expanded and sank into her skin. She grew cold and her skin clammy. Her heart slowed down as her blood froze. Like the water at her favourite beach, the cold continued to sink in until something sparked. Deep within her core, a light flickered, sputtered and then blazed molten hot. Like an internal explosion, the heat blasted outward, shattering the icicles forming on her soul from Odin’s touch.

  Odin snatched his hand back. His mouth compressed into a thin line.

  Was this when the smiting happened?

  After a tense minute that lingered for decades, Odin nodded. “You’re worthy...”

  His terse comment snapped her awareness back to the present.

  “...Enough.”

  Cole and Huginn Muninn stood wide-eyed beside her, almost as if frozen by the same potent energy mojo crap Odin had soaked her in. The shadows retreated.

  The Allfather spun on his heel and walked back up the steps to his throne without another comment.

  Um, okay. Were they done?

  Cole reached out and nudge her elbow. He lifted his chin toward the exit.

  Guess so.

  Odin’s abrupt dismissal left Huginn Muninn to escort Raven and Cole to the gates. They turned without a word and walked back the way they came, past silent, watchful warriors. Raven stopped at the threshold.

  The eerie red moons of the Otherworld glowed like fiery orbs in the dark summer night, cascading the group in streams of dark gold. The sweet-smelling trees lined the foreboding entrance to the hall and loomed ahead of them. Two torches crackled and lit the landing in a soft glow. The heat pressed against Raven’s face.

  She turned to her biological father. “So, both of you are my father, or just one of you, or...?”

  “We are two halves to the same coin.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re Ben to his Jerry, Mac to his Cheese, Yi
n to his Yang.”

  Huginn Muninn arched his eyebrow and paused to briefly turn to Cole.

  He shrugged.

  Her father sighed. “I’m not sure you do.”

  What did that even mean? “Geez, can Others be less cryptic?”

  Huginn Muninn shook his, their, whatever, head. Ugh, pronouns were so restrictive.

  “So just to confirm, neither you nor Odin hired, kidnapped or harmed my brother Bear in any way? And you never met him, aside from watching us as children?”

  “That is correct. If we discover his location, we’ll send word.”

  Raven pulled the black feather from her waistband.

  Cole jerked back.

  Huginn Muninn narrowed his eyes and leaned in. His nostrils flared.

  “Did you drop this when you searched Bear’s hiding spot?”

  Cole tensed.

  “We did not search your brother’s place or any hiding spot. We delivered the card to his apartment, only.” Apparently, Odin’s camp remained unaware of Bear’s safe house.

  “Then how’d this get there?”

  Huginn Muninn frowned. Their cape billowed around their large body. “That feather is not ours.”

  “Whose is it then?”

  Her father leaned in. “You should ask your escort.”

  Raven spun to glare at Cole. Odin had asked if Cole came to his court on behalf of...Lily...Lilith...Lithe... No. Lloth. Her mind flickered with memories. Mike had said something about Lloth. What was it? Something vague about the name pinged her high school memories, but her recollections from that time had long ago weakened, bumped out by other life experiences. Something about Lloth and the Underworld. Too obscure, and unimportant in the moment, her mind discarded the information.

  Before she could demand answers from anyone, Huginn Muninn spread his arms wide. Her father burst into two large ravens. They beat their wings and flew away into the night. Waves of heated air hit her face.

  Her skin prickled as all the hairs rose. That must be what she looked like when she transformed.