“I saw this, in a vision,” Sally blurted. “Only, it was Fenrir they were facing. Not bulldozers” She shook her head and felt the pain in her shoulder flare. “Opal, I’m sorry I got you into this. “I’m sorry about everything. You have no idea—”
“Sally,” Opal interrupted. “Look!”
Sally turned to see twelve bulldozers spread out into a semi-circle aimed directly at the Yggdrasil.
Sally gasped, but Opal placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”
Sally saw Heimdall turn his head and smile, and her heart surged when she realized what he was looking at. A pick-up truck led a line of motorcycles through the thirty-foot-wide swath Managarm and his warriors had cut through the forest.
“Is that . . . ?”
Opal whispered. “Einherjar.”
Sally knew she should be outraged by the destruction of the forest—hundreds of years of old-growth trees being felled, saplings ripped up by their roots, and the ground getting shredded by bulldozer treads. But as the motorcycles spilled into the stand of young trees and started tearing up the earth beneath their wheels, she felt her heart pound with excitement.
“Vikings!” she exclaimed with a painful cough. “Vikings!”
Sally made Opal help her to her feet so she could see better. The biker gang was driving circles around the bulldozers, and Sally laughed when Opal told her their name.
“The Valkyries.” Sally pressed her right hand to her chest and felt Uruz flash hot and tickle her skin.
“That guy there.” Opal pointed toward an older man in black leather who sped past the Tree toward the nearest bulldozer. “He’s the leader. Ted.”
“Hey, mangy-headed whore monkey!” Ted jeered at a Berserker hanging onto the bulldozer cab. “Aren’t you a sad-looking excuse of a weasel!”
The Berserker—a wild-eyed girl in spandex with a sparkly green boa wrapped around her neck—snarled and tried to grab Ted as he drove by. But Ted sped out in front of the bulldozer, then circled back and slowed as he came up alongside again.
“Just going to sit there, huh? Some fearsome warrior you are!” Ted gunned his bike as he rolled alongside the advancing bulldozer. “You don’t look so mighty to me, little pup! Not so tough, eh, puppy? Puppy chow?”
The Berserker bared her teeth and leapt off the bulldozer. Ted sped up as she launched, so she only briefly caught hold of his back fender. The Berserker jumped to her feet and stormed after Ted, who kept his speed just high enough to stay safely out of reach. He lifted a fist in the air and howled. “Valkyries!”
“Valkyries!” came the full-throated response from the rest of the gang as twelve motorcycles tore around the slower moving bulldozers.
“You’re a little long in the tooth to be fighting, eh, granny?” another Valkyrie shouted at a silver-haired woman in an apron who sat at the controls of one of the bulldozers. She spat at him and diverted the machine to try to run him over, but the bike wove easily to the side.
“Maybe I should trade in my Suzuki for an old lady scooter so it’d be a fair fight? You any good without your walker?” The Valkyrie pulled a fist-sized rock out of his jacket pocket and heaved it at the bulldozer, striking the cab window dead-on. With a blood-curdling scream, the senior Berserker abandoned her controls and leapt out of the cab toward him.
Sally could have sworn the biker swerved closer, deliberately allowing the woman to fall on him, but if it was an act of chivalry, she guessed he regretted it as soon as the woman raked her fingernails across his face and tore through one of his eyes.
He yelped as blood poured down his cheek. The old woman reached around him to take control of the bike, steering it into one of the saplings, and then another. The branches of a third sapling shot through the spokes of the back wheel, and the bike skidded sideways, trapping both the Valkyrie and the Berserker beneath it.
The Berserker continued to slash at the Valkyrie with her sharp fingernails. Holding one hand over his destroyed eye, the biker balled his other hand into a fist and punched her in the face until she was unconscious.
After the Valkyries roared past on their motorcycles, Thor parked his pick-up just inside the stand of young saplings. He slipped out from behind the wheel and reached into the truck bed for his toolbox to retrieve his new hammer—then nearly dropped it when he felt the metal tool zing in his grip. He turned the hammer over, trying to find the source of the vibration, but it was just a standard Vaughan Blue Max from Home Depot.
He gripped the wooden handle and watched light spark and sizzle in an electric current that raced across the metal head.
“Thunderbolts,” Thor smiled. Raising the hammer over his head, Thor ran full-speed into the White Oak stand. “Vikings!” His voice boomed across the battlefield. “Einherjar! To war! To death! To glory!”
A deafening roar erupted from the surrounding forest as the new Vikings—in football uniforms, blue jeans, tracksuits, and cheerleading outfits—came pouring out of the trees. They formed a tightening ring around the Berserkers already in the stand.
“Go, Viks! Go, Viks!” came the muffled yells from beneath the plush head of Victor E. Viking as the PSU mascot stumbled out of the woods, still in full costume. “Here we go! Vikings! Here we go!” He clapped his hands, did a few disco moves, and pumped his fist in the air. “Victory! Victory! Go, Viks! Woo!”
Four bulldozers sat idle while their Berserker drivers and occupants chased after the Valkyries, weaving in and out between the young trees.
Managarm cursed under his breath as his bulldozer pushed past them. “Useless bloody fools!” He rummaged through his bag of blood-stained runes.
David drove forward, plowing down the saplings in their path. He threw the control levers wildly when he saw the circle of Vikings closing around them. “They’re coming from everywhere!”
Managarm narrowed his eyes as he took in the scene, then grunted.
“No matter,” he said more to himself than to David. “Let them distract themselves with the Berserkers. Let them run themselves ragged and believe they are close to victory.” I still have Fenrir.
With Laika practically super-glued to his heels, Heimdall stood close to his father as the clan fanned out around the Tree. He watched the Vikings stream onto the battlefield from the woods on either side. Although centuries of training screamed at him to launch into the fracas, he knew he had to stand his ground.
The Valkyries had distracted the Berserkers away from seven of the bulldozers. Tariq and Bonnie rushed in to climb aboard one of the abandoned machines. They started it up and lurched forward, navigating into the paths of the other dozers to divert them away from the Tree.
Heimdall scanned the young trees and the forest beyond. “Any sign of the Fenris Wolf?” he called to his father.
Odin shook his head. “He’s close. I can feel him.”
Heimdall spotted Loki ducking into the old-growth forest off to his left. Laika whined.
“To the Yggdrasil,” Heimdall commanded her sternly. Laika didn’t move.
“Now!” he shouted. Laika turned reluctantly and crept toward the World Tree, dodging arrows and flying saplings as she went.
Satisfied with Laika’s retreat, Heimdall made a run for the forest. He didn’t like turning his back on the Tree even for a second, but there was no good reason for Loki not to be standing with them against Managarm.
Ignoring the shouts, screams, droning machinery, and random football cheers coming from the battle raging behind him, Heimdall kept his eyes trained on Loki and wove quickly through what was left of the young trees. The sounds of the battlefield dampened as he moved deeper into the old forest, and Heimdall slowed his pace.
Heimdall crept silently behind Loki and hid behind the wide trunk of a Giant Sequoia. His blood chilled in his veins when he heard Loki call to Fenrir.
Heimdall crouched low beside the tree, ready to spring into action if he caught sight of the Fenris Wolf. If he could take out Fenrir before he made his way to Odin . . .
&
nbsp; “You’ll have to go through me first, my son,” Loki whispered.
Heimdall frowned. What was Loki up to? Before Heimdall had a chance to complete his thought, he felt hot breath on the back of his neck.
“You cannot stop me,” Fenrir’s voice growled low in Heimdall’s ear.
Heimdall spun on his knees and was immediately pinned against the tree. Fenrir bared his white teeth and hissed. “Ragnarok.”
“You have a choice!” Heimdall gripped the hairy wrists that held him. “You don’t have to do this!”
Fenrir snapped sharp teeth in Heimdall’s face. Then he opened his jaw and lowered his face to Heimdall’s neck.
“Stop!”
Fenrir’s head shot back, and Heimdall swiveled around to see Loki standing just behind him.
“It was my decision to imprison you!” Loki pleaded. “It was the only way to keep you alive.”
Fenrir narrowed his eyes and growled. “My feud is not with you, father.” He turned back to Heimdall and grinned.
Heimdall looked deep into Fenrir’s fierce eyes and had no doubt that the Randulfr meant to eviscerate him.
“Fenrir,” his voice quavered. Before he could utter another syllable, Fenrir slammed Heimdall’s head back against the tree and tore through the forest.
Blinking furiously, Heimdall staggered to his feet. Loki grabbed his arm to help him up, but Heimdall pointed a stern finger in Loki’s face. “We are going to talk about this—”
“I am not working with Managarm,” Loki responded calmly, still holding onto Heimdall to keep him steady.
“We’ll see about that.” Heimdall pushed him away and ran, somewhat off-balance, back toward the battlefield.
Breaking through the trees, Heimdall sped across the decimated stand, dodging the saplings that were still rooted in place and leaping over those that lay in ruin on the ground. He narrowly missed being shot through by almost an entire quiver of arrows, though he eluded the remaining bulldozers easily enough. He kept his eyes focused on his father and the Tree.
A few yards short of reaching Odin, Heimdall skidded to a halt when a Berserker planted himself squarely in his path. The young man’s college sweatshirt was coated with blood, dirt, and what looked curiously like whipped cream and raspberry sprinkles. He brandished a javelin, twirling it overhead like a champion majorette with an oversized baton, and then thrust the point at Heimdall’s face, stopping just short of impaling him through the nose.
“Move aside,” Heimdall barked, but the young Berserker just laughed.
The warrior crouched low, ready for his assault. Just as he pulled the javelin back, an uprooted sapling sailed roots-first over Heimdall’s shoulder and hit the Berserker in the face.
Heimdall spun around to find Loki standing a short distance away. The trickster god shrugged almost apologetically. Heimdall turned and ran to Odin.
“Fenrir!” Heimdall shouted over the din. “He’s here!”
A blast of blue light shot between Heimdall and his father, heading away from the Tree. Heimdall and Odin jumped farther apart and looked back at the Yggdrasil to find Frigga and Freya kneeling by the base of the Tree, their arms extended forcefully outward.
“What in the blazes of Muspellheim do you think you’re doing?” Odin bellowed. “Are you working for the Moon Dog now?”
Frigga tilted her head in exasperation and gestured toward their target—a smoking, overturned bulldozer whose occupants were scrambling out to stomp their feet in frustration and howl at the sky.
“Not my fault you weren’t paying attention,” Frigga called to her husband.
“Vikings!” Thor bellowed as he took out a Berserker warrior with a single crack of his hammer to the young man’s head.
He'd paused before he swung at the first of Managarm's warriors he encountered. It wasn't the kid's fault that he'd been transformed into a Berserker. Thor wondered for a moment if there was any hope for the Berserker to shake off this mantle and go back to his old life when this battle was over. But then the kid kicked Thor in the gut and tried to shove a metal rod into his ear, all while shouting about how he was going to kill the god of thunder and cook his bones for soup.
So, no mercy. Not yet anyway.
Thor felt almost his old self again with the weight of the hammer in his hand. He didn’t notice the tool had nearly doubled in size since he first picked it up.
He stepped over the bodies of a few fallen Vikings and dipped his head in respect.
“Tonight you feast in Valhalla,” he whispered as he headed toward the rest of his clan, clumped in small groups around the Tree.
Thor stopped to admire Bragi wielding a shovel like a club. A shiny-suited Berserker approached quickly from behind, but Bragi spun around and deftly struck him in the skull, knocking him to the ground. Continuing his turn, Bragi held the shovel blade up to protect his face, deflecting an arrow aimed at his head.
Bragi scanned the field for immediate threats, then spotted Thor.
“Not so bad for the Bard of the Gods, eh?” Bragi gestured with the shovel. “I pulled this out of your truck. Hope you don’t mind.”
Thor shrugged, and Bragi stepped past him to get a better look at the cab of an approaching bulldozer.
“Managarm,” Bragi spat. With a firm grip on his shovel, he headed for the Moon Dog.
“Bragi, wait!” Thor called out, but before the words were out of his mouth, a blinding flash of lightning shot out from the cab of Managarm’s bulldozer, targeting Bragi’s midsection and cutting him almost in half.
“Bragi!” Thor screamed and lunged forward to catch his brother as he fell.
Safely ensconced inside the bulldozer’s cab, Managarm giggled manically. It worked! The Yggdrasil runes mixed with the witch’s blood were stronger than he’d dared hope. He glanced at the rune Thurisaz in his palm, then clutched it tightly in his fist.
“Force of destruction!” he shouted at Bragi’s smoldering body. “The gods’ blood will turn this ground red before dawn!”
He saw Thor standing over Bragi, and Managarm’s smile cooled.
“Taught me to hunt, did you?” Managarm whispered. “Bragged far and wide that you had tamed me? Who is the master now?!”
Through the cab’s open window, Managarm pointed his fist—still clutching Thurisaz—at Thor. He took a deep breath to gather the energy for another killing blast, but there was a loud crash as he was knocked sideways. The rune fell out of his hand.
“NO!” Managarm leaned out the cab’s window and spotted the Thurisaz rune just as the bulldozer’s tread ground it into the earth.
“You feckless freak of a boy!” Managarm cursed David at the bulldozer’s controls, then stared open-mouthed as the Berserker clambered out the other side of the cab just before another bulldozer—piloted by a small man and a young woman in a turtleneck—struck Managarm’s machine again, ramming it with their blade.
“Take that!” the man screamed at Managarm. “Tariq and Bonnie of the Einherjar will take you down, Moon Dog!”
Sally couldn't breathe. She'd just watched a god die.
She stood by as Heimdall and Frigga rushed to Thor’s side as he cradled what was left of Bragi in his arms. “Cursed Moon Dog!” Thor howled. “You will not live to see the sunrise!”
Letting Bragi’s body slip to the ground, Thor stormed to his feet and was about to take off in the direction of Managarm’s bulldozer when his mother gripped his arm, pulling him back.
“No! Not yet!” Frigga looked down at her son’s lifeless body. A deep wail rose in her throat, shaking the very leaves of the Yggdrasil and rattling the windows of the surrounding bulldozers. Frigga fell to her knees and rested Bragi’s head in her lap, bending over his body and covering his face with her tears.
Leaning hard on Freya for support, Sally scrambled over to kneel beside Frigga, but the goddess pushed her away. Wincing with pain, Sally clutched at her chest and looked down at the huge hole in the center of Bragi’s body, still smoking from Managarm’s mag
ickal blast. Her breath came in quick spasms, but instead of fearing cardiac arrest, Sally recognized her frustrated fury.
Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, Sally lifted cold eyes to stare down Managarm.
Managarm cursed when he saw Sally on the field. Her pure white hair was streaked with blood. He moved fast, trying to get free of the mangled bulldozer while Bonnie and Tariq repositioned their machine for another damaging blow. Half the cab was collapsed and the one open window had been crushed inward. Managarm squeezed his upper body through the narrow opening and grabbed an outer handrail for leverage. He saw Sally square her feet to draw up energy from the earth. She pointed at him and narrowed her eyes.
A blinding flash of light shot out from Sally’s outstretched hand, striking the side of the bulldozer and narrowly missing Managarm as he freed himself. He fell to the ground just as the rival bulldozer slammed into his.
Momentarily stunned, Managarm sat up in the dirt and looked up at the blackened, three-foot-wide blast hole that still sparked and hissed in the side of the bulldozer.
Sally advanced on him as he scrambled to his feet. Her right hand was still outstretched as she prepared to target him again, and he saw Uruz blazing bright on her thumb. Managarm lurched behind the smoking, crumpled bulldozer and peeked out to see Sally headed straight toward him. He dashed to his right and took cover behind the rival bulldozer.
“No, you don’t!” Tariq shouted and reached down from the cab to swat at Managarm with his shoe. “You make little children and old ladies fight your battles for you? Now you come to cower beside me?”
Managarm stumbled away from the bulldozer, wearing the tread marks of Tariq’s shoe on his face.
The Berserker captain lay bleeding on the ground when Thor found her sprawled on the dirt not far from one of the overturned bulldozers. Her ragged, pink tracksuit and dark skin were streaked with blood and dirt, and her left leg was bent at an unnatural angle. She tried to prop herself up on her elbows as Thor approached, but she fell back to the ground with a painful groan.
Moon Dog Magic Page 30