CASCADING FRAGMENTS CLINKED harmlessly across the stone floor, catching the light of a blazing fire in their facets.
“Your defenses have been beaten,” Dajjal said arrogantly, pointing his sword back at the piles of shiny rubble. “Your soldiers there, turned to glass, are beaten. You… captain, are beaten.”
“Prideful creature,” the captain of the jötunn guard replied, summoning an icy lance and shield. “Captain is my title, but my name is Dagr and though you fight well, demon, I am still standing.”
The fire glinted in Dajjal’s already inflamed eyes, casting its light on his damnable smile. “Yes you are… for now.”
“Enough talk,” said Dagr. “Let us end this.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” Dajjal replied as he launched himself as fast as he could toward the frost giant, the air rippling behind him as he brought his blade down in a raging strike.
Dagr raised his ice shield and it took the impact full on, steaming before falling apart in two pieces. “Is that all you have?” he challenged, jabbing the spear at Dajjal’s remaining wing.
The demon cried out as the point pierced the area and it burned. Frosted and brittle, his feathers broke off in large chunks as he staggered backwards, dropping to a knee.
Dagr held out his free hand and the shield reformed, flying through the air until it was secure in his hand once more.
You are a pathetic failure, came Wilson’s voice once again. Poor, poor demonic baby…
Dagr advanced vigilantly, wondering why Dajjal had suddenly become sedentary. Thinking it was a trap, the giant didn’t risk getting too close; instead he thrust the spear at him again. It entered Dajjal’s shoulder, ice crystallizing everything around the wound as his skin bubbled with purple blisters before turning black.
You see Dajjal… only you would allow the burn of ice to overcome a being of fire. You called me pathetic before you took over. I have learned you are no better.
“SHUT UP!” Dajjal screamed, catching Dagr off guard. Grabbing the spear with his hand it cut him deeply, though no blood came from the wound. Instead, heat issued out from his grip and melted the end of the weapon in a rush of scalding steam that burned his face.
Drawing energy from his surroundings Dagr reformed the lance and attacked again, but Dajjal was faster than he was. Narrowly dodging the spear as it hit against the floor, the demon leaped on the handle and ran all the way up to the colossal hand that gripped it.
The frost giant swiped at Dajjal with the edge of his shield but ended up missing, the demon ducking down just in time before the hot edge of his sword plunged right into the giant’s wrist.
Dagr screamed in pain, dropping his weapons with a mighty crash. He tended to his injured wrist, momentarily neglected Dajjal as he continued to race up the colossus. Before long, he was at his neck and with one fell swoop traced a molten line from one side to the next.
Dajjal leapt down toward the floor, coasting unsteadily with his single wing to guide him. Landing, he bent his neck to look up at the fifty feet he had just dropped, feeling a rain of cool water on his face and although it wasn’t blood, the symphony it made on the ground was just as satisfying.
Dagr fell upon his knees, which cracked as he gripped at his throat. As water gushed out profusely, he knew his time had come. The sounds of his wheezing gasps rose to the very heights of the tower, soon joined by the sounds of shattering ice. Closing his eyes, the rest of him buckled then fell, smashing into the ground a short time later with the deepest rumble.
Dagr, captain of the jötunn guard, was no more.
Dajjal breathed heavily, mentally and physically drained from the battle. Regardless he had to carry on and as the last fragments of the captain settled on the ground, the demon marched forward across the courtyard on his way to the throne room.
Holding his flaming sword out to the side, Dajjal waved it ever so gently to and fro. “Oh Your Majesty…” he said, toying with the still hidden monarch. An unseen force thrust the doors open as he reached the entrance, crashing against the walls with a resounding bang. “I've come for an audience with you. I think you know that you have something of mine, Your Grace. I want it back, NOW!”
His shouts echoed across the plaza and up the towering space inside the throne room and as Dajjal entered, he failed to notice a growing vortex tucked in the corner of the plaza.
Gage and Marcus appeared in the center of it an instant later, a subtle pop punctuating their landing in a cushion of built up snow.
Veiled by the shadows against the dark walls, Gage looked a paler than he had before they made the jump in.
“You don't look so good,” Marcus observed before casting his eyes to the massive heaps of shattered crystal that were scattered around the ground. “They don’t look so good either…”
“Ya think those piles were alive? Damn they got fucked –” Gage paused unexpectedly, tasting the wretched bitterness of bile seeping up his throat. Gulping it back down –burning fiercely – he balled up a fist and thumped it on his chest a couple of times. “Yeah, I think I’ll be okay, but I’ve never felt this shitty just from teleporting. After a bottle of Jameson maybe…”
“Yeah me either,” Marcus said, touching the back of his hand to his forehead. “Although I guess I don’t feel too bad; there's no fever. This might have been due to something I did,” Marcus admitted.
Gage looked over to him with an eyebrow up, as if the big guy might hurl again in Marcus’ direction if he said anything he didn't like.
“We were already pushing the stone’s limits trying to get from the mountaintop inside of this place,” Marcus said cautiously, shuffling back a few steps. “Then factor in we piggybacked and that cut our distance down, confirmed when I saw the chasm beneath us as we materialized. So at the last minute managed to extend the leap to here…”
Gage sputtered and his brows relaxed. “Ya know, all things considered, I’m glad to have swallowed some puke opposed the alternative option.”
“Me too; it’s quite a long way down to the bottom of that pit.”
The main doors to the throne room closed, the noise drawing the duo’s attention. Quickly, they made sure all of their stuff was in order before scurrying around to the entrance.
The doors hadn't closed all the way, but the gap was too small and they were still massive enough to be imposing. In fact, they were identical to the scale of the Door in the Mountain back at Bennett Peak that had given them access to this world.
Marcus’ brain was beginning to add things up – the large creatures, the icy lands, the huge wolf, and now these doors. “Gage,” he said as they took up in front of one of the panels. There were runes there that were undeniably Norse.
“This place...” he continued as they pushed. “I think it may be Jötunheim… land of frost giants!”
The doors parted slowly, but they only needed to widen the gap a little bit.
“Fascinating Marcus,” Gage said hurriedly, “ya can tell me all about it on our way home but for now come on, we have a date with a demon.”
That was enough to send Marcus into revenge mode and the two of them slunk inside where there was ample darkness to stay hidden.
An orange glow ahead indicated the right way to proceed, so they followed quietly behind the flicker, at last entering the throne room itself.
There was no other light in the hall except for that cast by Dajjal and the shafts streaming in from the windows up high. Gage and Marcus took up position just behind one of the ornately carved columns, still in the shadows, biding their time by listening and further preparing.
“Okay, final check. How many fire stones do we have left?” Gage whispered softly, keeping his eyes fixed on Dajjal to be sure they were unnoticed. His heartbeat climbed when he thought he could see something big moving around in the gloom beyond, but it could just as well have been a trick of the light on the jagged walls
“Two,” said Marcus, also curious as to what was moving in the dark. “I used one to
slow down that rock-thing in the cave. Hope that's not another one over there.”
“Yeah I hope not. Okay, we should save those bombs until absolutely needed.”
“Agreed.”
“We also have our daggers,” Gage recounted, “and I have my trusty MK with a couple mags of explosive iron rounds.”
“Perfect. On my end I can cast a transfiguring spell if needed – like turn anything into more bullets for you – and I think I maybe able to use one of my tattoos to… ah never mind, I've not done that before so scratch it.”
“Well whatever it is it might come in useful,” Gage muttered. “Keep it tucked away as a last resort. Now all we need to do is wait for DJ to do his thing and take care of the residents before we swoop in…”
“Or vice versa and let the residents wipe the floor with his ass.”
Gage chuckled. “We can only hope.”
“Gage…” Marcus said cautiously. “We do have a few other weapons in the arsenal… should things take a turn south.”
Gage shut his eyes, knowing what Marcus was referring to. “Marcus, you’ve seen what these things do to me. The amulet itself tries to take me over each time and as for the Seal of Solomon, I hurt so bad.”
He opened his eyes and Marcus could see tears in them. “You’re right Gage,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“No,” Gage replied, “you’re right… we worked damned hard to get these things My comfort be damned; it’s the very last thing we need to be concerned about when weighed with the fate of the world.”
“Gage… we don’t need to lose you in the process.”
“I’m one man, Marcus,” he said softly, “while there are billions back home counting on us. If that’s not pressure, I dunno what is. Seriously, we can worry about me later.” He sighed intensely. “If the need comes… I’ll bust out the big guns.”
Dajjal interrupted their conversation, thankfully not to address them directly. “Ah, at last His Majesty comes out of the darkness into the light.”
King Thrym emerged from the darkness and loomed high above the demon and his fire. Dark and terrible he bore no weaponry that could be seen, though it could have been draped beneath the monstrous cape he had adorned. “Another of your kind in my realm, though your manner is lacking when compared.”
“Another?” Marcus whispered to Gage, responding with a curt shrug.
“I am sure he informed you of a great many of things, Your Grace,” said Dajjal timidly, “but surely you know that the truth always resides somewhere in the middle. I would have you hear my side…”
“YOU would have ME hear?” Thrym cut in with an immense laugh. “The lands of Jötunheim are being invaded by the tiny and they are so bold as to make the largest demands.”
“You are right,” Dajjal replied. “I do not owe you a damn thing.”
“Nor I, demon!”
“Oh but you do, King,” Dajjal said viciously. “You possess a treasure that belongs to me, which I have come to claim – be it from you willingly or…”
Gage prodded Marcus, “M, have ya seen what ol’ beanstalk’s wearing?”
“The cape?” he mumbled. “Yeah it’s huge, and kind of hideous.”
“Not the damn cape. That…. there on his finger.”
Marcus squinted and saw a glimmer on top of the king’s hand. Studying it hard as his heart started to beat faster, he realized that it was a ring upon his finger, but given the size difference of the giants could be a crown.
“Dajjal!” came a booming voice that drew everyone’s attention to the main entrance. Heavy footsteps hit the floor and a man wearing ornate armor came toward the gathering. His helm was in his hand, affording a view of his red eyes, and a halberd, doubling as a walking stick, was in the other.
“That must be the other one,” Gage whispered to Marcus. Suddenly this task didn’t seem so easy. Casting his eyes to the amulet, he knew that he would have no choice but to tap into its evil powers.
Marcus was staring all the while, worried.
“I see that you are free Knight Botis,” stated Thrym, casting back his cape to show an oversized axe. “Are you here to –”
“Botis?” Marcus muttered sharply. “How… what in the world?”
“I am not here for either of your wretched souls,” Botis interrupted, gazing fiercely at Dajjal who had yet to turn his way. “I am here to claim the treasure for Lucifer.”
Gage darted his eyes over to Marcus. “I think we should join this party.”
Marcus was caught off guard. “What?” he whispered as Gage set off walking behind them. “Gage! What are you doing?”
“Fightin’,” he replied. “It’s all I know how to do.”
Marcus breathed in and out quickly a few times. “Oh boy. Guess I need to be ready then. Into the big pile of steaming shit we go.” He fell in behind Gage as the big man made his way toward the assembled monsters.
“Heya gents!” he shouted, swagger in full effect as he appeared out of the dreariness.
Dajjal grimaced, knowing full well who that familiar accented voice belonged to. “Well, well, well,” he said, turning completely around. “The ever vigilant Gage Crosse has decided to join this meeting of greatness… as if humans have a say in matters well above them.”
“I dunno, bossman,” Gage replied, crossing his arms. “Seems like I have been kicking your ass since day one.”
“Well then, what are we to do?” Dajjal asked as both Botis and King Thrym studied the mortal. Something about him seemed much greater than a mere man. “Talk about this like proper people at a council meeting?”
“Fuck that shit,” Gage said. “I’m gonna kick your ass again.”
AN UNSYMPATHETIC WIND beat against the old fortress walls, clawing and gnawing to get inside. However, there was already plenty of bite in the air with all parties – demon, human, and frost giant alike – standing silently in the throne room, glaring at each other with malice in their hearts.
King Thrym was alone in facing the others. For over two-thousand-years he held dominion over this realm, standing proudly in front of his throne as a callous nobility coursed through his icy veins. Peering down, he addressed those far below.
“ENOUGH!” his voice boomed, directing all of his antipathy toward Dajjal. “Such disrespect! You have come here to this world – my world – and would have me groveling on my knees to the likes of you?”
“Indeed I will have you on your knees before this is done…” Dajjal answered. “groveling for me to put you out of your misery.”
Thrym laughed. “I had other plans in the beginning, for your counterpart and also for you when you arrived… but now I will give you all this one chance to leave.”
Dajjal’s face was still crumpled up so tightly that Gage wondered how he could see anything at all. “I will not leave this place until I have what is rightfully –”
Botis cut him off with his own obnoxious laughter. “You have always been so smug, Dajjal. The Crown does not belong to you; it is Lucifer’s and I shall ensure he is the one to receive it once the doors are opened.”
Thrym glanced up to his head, not knowing what they were talking about since there was no crown upon his head.
“The worlds need a new ruler,” Dajjal gloated. “Lucifer is old news, Botis. I am the future!”
“So you say,” Botis smirked, welcoming the thought of an oncoming battle. “You are more than welcome to try!”
They both prepared to blast each other, flaunting their weapons, when Gage interrupted them both.
“Sorry to disappoint ya’ll,” he interjected, looking to Dajjal. “But those doors are gonna stay shut while I’m on watch. DJ, come on, ya know better than this considering humans have circumvented you and the Noctis every single step of the way.”
“Circumvented? My, my that is a big word for you, isn’t it?” Dajjal prodded, his expression spiteful.
Botis himself was out of words, unable to believe what he was hearing. His head bo
bbed between Dajjal and Gage as they verbally hammered away at each other.
Fed up with the exchange, he spoke his demonic counterpart. “I can see why you’ve lost so far, Dajjal. From the Great War to where I drew a line against your demands in the salt flats. Are you even listening to yourself, bickering like a lesser?”
“I don’t think ‘ol smoky does,” Gage replied to Botis, waving. “Hi there by the way, name’s Gage Crosse if ya didn’t know. Botis, wasn’t it?” He looked up – high up – toward Thrym’s lofty eyes. “As for you… I have no fucking clue what you are.”
“SILENCE!” King Thrym yelled once more, threatening to collapse his own tower with the intensity of his voice. He’d had more than enough and it was obvious his patience was held in check by the thinnest of threads. “You have ALL wasted enough of my time.”
Everyone’s eyes widened as Thrym raised his hand, bolts of white lashing out at them.
“Be gone!”
Dajjal brandished his sword as winter sped toward him. He sliced through the magic with ease, flecks of ice bursting like fireworks everywhere. The jolt rebounded, erupting against the tall walls behind Thrym.
As for Botis, he simply leapt out of the way. The chilly bolt struck the spot where he had been, buckling the floor as its brittle stone warped from the cold.
Unlike the others, Gage stood firm, making sure to bring Marcus in close enough for an embrace. “Don't worry,” he whispered reassuringly. There was a something in his voice that just said ‘trust me’ and any fears Marcus had were instantly dispelled. “I got ya, no matter what happens…”
“I know…” Marcus replied, no truer words spoken between the two of them.
Gage held out a hand and the King’s attack never stood a chance. The frozen charge dissipated before it got too close, the Ring of Dispel’s power brought to bear. In its place rose a blistering heat, a ball of hellfire summoned with swirls of gold and crimson matching Gage’s eyes in color and intensity.
Marcus peeked up toward Gage’s face. The person protecting him was still Gage Crosse on the outside, but in the orange light he was so much greater than any of the others in the room. The authority he exuded with just a look could send fear into the most power armies, Marcus finding that he was no exception.
The Devil's Highway (Journeyman Book 4) Page 19