by Farah Cook
My patience is running out and I feel tired, dizzy and hungry. The way Sumras speaks makes me feel itchy. I draw out my sword and point the tip down, spinning it around. Something tells me I should not underestimate the Norumb trolls. They may be small and ugly, but they have what we want. The keys to the City of Vikings.
“What will you have us do to get the key?” I stop the spinning and place the sword back into my sheath.
Sumras pulls out a large golden shiny key and spins it around before my eyes, as if he is going to hypnotize me. I am not sure what to expect when I see him spinning it like that – delight or a dash of praise showing my happiness. Instead I remain speechless. Trolls are stupid. Why would Sumras pull out the real key to the gates? He’s not clever enough to trick us.
Suddenly Frederick says, “Is that it? The key to one of the greatest secret cities? This can’t be it.”
The trolls look at one another, offended for sure by Frederick’s rude remark. As their grunts grow louder I snatch the key out of Sumras’s grip. It’s the size of an ordinary key, perhaps, only slightly heavier.
“It’s just an ordinary key,” I say. “Where’s the real key?”
“That is the real key,” says Sumras. “The key is real. Hand it back now, now!” He jumps before me trying to snatch the key back. But I quickly put it into the side pocket of my jacket. Energy pulses through the key like electricity striking the night sky pounding my pocket. He is right, it is the real key. Stupid troll, why would he give it away so easily?
“It belongs to us now,” says Frederick patronizingly. “We need to get out of here, unless you want to end up dead. Open that port now.”
“Tricky trickster,” says the troll. “Your magic doesn’t work here.”
The troll chuckles, and quick as a flash he jerks down the rocks, slipping down the walls, which are falling in a soft collapse. The cave opens behind us. I hear Frederick take a deep breath behind me.
“What is that?” I ask, and catch a glimpse of black clouds and lightning in the sky that are hurtling toward us. Frederick shouts for me to get down. He drops to the ground and yanks me down with him. While we lay flat I lift my head to see the black twirling fog which catches all the trolls swallowing them into a black vacuum of infinity.
The trolls scream, some thrusting their arms upward and others sprawling their legs. The dark cloud wraps around the trolls like a shroud, it’s profound blackness eating each one of them like a paper shredder. A rattle of objects strikes the floor making a thunderous noise. There were endless metal keys, which fall and now lie scattered around us.
Frederick whispers louder now, so the movements in his lips are visible. The trolls howl and twist. Their heads writhe and wriggle as the black cloud gulps them down. I squeak out a sound from the top of my lungs.
“I thought magic doesn’t work on magic?”
“Whoever said trolls are smart? My magic is ten times stronger here than anywhere else. The level of magic in these fields are more active. They’re strong and powerful…”
“Stop!” I say “Frederick Dahl, I will not have you turn into a dark lord. You killed all the trolls before knowing what their next move was.”
“Oh, I know what their next move was going to be,” growls Frederick. “Did you just expect me to sit here and wait for them to slice us up with their weapons?”
“They were harmless,” I sneer back. “We could easily have taken them out between us. Besides you said you don’t want to use magic—”
“Only to defend myself.”
“We weren’t attacked Frederick, but if we were, I would still not have let you done this, believe me.”
“You’re unbelievable, Nora Hunt,” Frederick throws the keys on the ground to the side and stands watching me with eyes like daggers. “You came to my residence looking for my dad with Maja’s cut-off head in that sack. You are a Viking assassin, blood is written in your fate.”
“I kill to protect the Goth Empire. I will never kill for fun.”
“You think this is fun?”
The cloud from above us disappears and we walk out of the cave. I tear my eyes away from Frederick’s. I am too angry to look into them. He pulls at my arm.
“Come on.”
When I look over my shoulder the valley changes setting. I see green space emerge faster than the storm cloud, and there right behind us the path that leads to the City of Vikings draws up like a thirsty river. I know because the majestic wings of the gate flap a cool breeze in my direction. Finally, it’s in sight. The golden gates to the secret City of Vikings.
27
AS IF IN a dream, my eyes close in the bright light shining high above me. A clear sky, and golden sun burning my pallid skin. The sight of the gates melts into my eyes as the sun begins to slant down the hills and valleys welcoming us into the embrace of a new beginning.
“We’ve made it, Frederick,” I inhale deeply, filling up my lungs, afraid this feeling may not last, and the vision delicately portrayed before me may disappear in a puff of smoke.
“I’m not sure what we can expect next. One thing I know is it’s not going to be easy,” he looks ahead as if worried something isn’t all that it seems.
“Let’s find out,” I say, and we follow the dusty path, snaking through the clear woods ahead of us. I am sure the sight before us is no illusion. When we reach the glorious port, Frederick and I just stare at each other. I pull out the key from my inner pocket and it swings from the chain in my hand. With each sway, my heart beats faster. This is it. Behind these gates, I’ll find my dad. I walk right up to the entrance and touch the metal doors. The gate is big and majestic and makes me feel small and insignificant.
The burden I’ve been carrying for years begins to ease inside my chest. In the valley of great danger, I’ve finally discovered the entrance to the city that does not want to be found. Sealed away, it cares less about the trouble facing the rest of the world – trouble we care too much about as a matter of life and death.
Frederick walks behind me and takes the key, placing it inside a carved metal lock, where it fits perfectly. Had the trolls not been so stupid, we’d have searched for hours among all the other keys to find the right one. No sooner has Frederick removed his hand and the metal box swallows the key, but the large golden gates, spread out like angelic wings, do not open. We stare at one another, bewildered, and then something happens. A riddle appears on the plate, word by word in old Norse script. Some of the letters are runes and meld in with others and some are symbols.
Frederick looks at me, smiling. The six weeks’ raider training has paid off.
“This should not take too long to read,” he smirks. “The first letter is a symbol for writing…” I help Frederick to read the Norse letters, but he’s doing better than I thought.
“When did you learn Norse?” I ask.
“After my training,” he says in words crisply spoken.
“I have it,” says Frederick. “Should I read it out?”
I nod and look at him not knowing what to say. Within sixty seconds he’s decoded the riddle.
Scribbles of dark stretching
Folding and unleashing
Black thunder and silver light
The carvings on your back in delight
“What is it?” asks Frederick – his eyes glowing like fire. He’s expecting an answer from me, as the words disappear and a sand timer shows. “Hurry, Nora.”
“I can’t be too sure,” I say, “maybe the word we’re looking for is tattoo.”
The earth underneath us shakes and something grabs my legs yanking me hard to the dirty ground. I scream Frederick’s name and he reaches out, grabbing the tips of my fingers. His face has turned pale. When my fingers slip, the force pulling me intensifies. Frederick grabs me, dragging me back just as the oozing thing rises from the ground slamming above the surface and covered in filth.
“It can’t be real,” I say. “It’s an illusion.”
“It’s real,” says Fr
ederick and there’s just one way to make it go away.”
“The riddle,” I say, “we’ve got to solve it.” I catch my breath and eye the creature wrestling with its gigantic self in front of us. Long arms with sucking cups like those of an octopus. Transparent skin, covered in slime and dust – cracked up and filthy with visible black bones.
The legs of the monster are bony and thin, holding an enormous mass of body, and the face is a black emptiness with glaring white eyes shooting poison. Flaring cave-like nostrils blow out a storm so we lose footing. I scramble to my feet and take out my sword.
“To the gates of the Vikings have come two Norselings with the sword of an assassin,” it says, forcefully breezing a disgusting stench in our direction of rotten, undigested dead bodies on powerful breath.
He gapes at me with his white eyes and the horrific sight blinds me.
“The sword. Give it to me and I may let you live,” he says.
Faced with panic, I stare back at Frederick. Motionless at first, he loosens the muscles in his face.
“What in the name of the gods are you?” he says.
I keep my glare locked onto Frederick. It’s the first time I’ve heard him use such words and my heart warms up. I love him, I know this now – he’s prepared to leave everything behind for me. His clan, his dynasty, his belief. He’s washed away the dark shadow that filled his heart and let in the light of love, and I see it shining as he hovers his arm across me to protect me.
The giant beast bows its head.
“I am Noddabah. I am the shadow of death rooted in Niflheim. I wander the deserts, the abandoned lands and the shadows. Death is my friend, and I am the enemy of every living creature. Any hope to defeat me will lead death upon your mortal souls. Give me the sword or watch each other die as I kill you slowly.”
“We’re dealing with something out of this world, Nora,” Frederick keeps his eyes steady, and his courage intact. “I sense little electricity in the air that enforces the use of magic.”
“What about the sword?” I ask. “He wants to have it. Perhaps that’s the only weapon that we can defeat him with.” I look down at my wrists and detect my raider weapon reactivated. That’s it – I can shoot my poisonous arrows at him.
The monster moves toward me. Frederick blocks its way, taking the glittering sword from my sheath. I watch him as my expression grows sick with horror.
“By Odin,” says Frederick staring up and down the odd-shaped monster. “You are by far the ugliest creature I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen some ugly ones, but you, Noddabah, top them all.”
The monster roars loudly, showing his sharp black-and-yellow-stained fangs, and lunges at him. Frederick flashes the sword at the creature, a bright-green light igniting it. He jumps, pulling himself higher so he’s flying in the air and skillfully sinks the sword into Noddabah’s stomach. The creature howls and strikes Frederick, knocking him to the side as if he were a small bug.
Frederick rolls and quickly stands up. He’s been hurt, retreating slowly backward. I have nothing except my raider weapon. I dart forward and lash out with the arrows from my wrists. A poisoned arrow shoots out and hits the monster in the eye. Noddabah screams and contorts, but he keeps moving toward Frederick.
With his injured leg, Frederick moves slowly and strikes the giant monster with the sword, whispering obscure words of magic aloud. The vile creature looms over Frederick, making him look small – almost a tiny dot. The monster chortles so his saggy flesh jiggles around his abdomen bouncing up and down.
Moving my wrists upward I shoot arrows at him, sending drops of blood like timber to the ground. Noddabah strikes the sword’s metal plate, lashing down at Frederick. In a fast movement Frederick swerves back, unharmed. Something is racing between the monster’s legs distracting it – a dwarf figure on my motorcycle. Mina. The monster roars loudly bashing its chest like a vile beast – Mina carries a spear and stabs it in his leg, blood gushing out like a river.
Growling, it strikes back, sending Mina with one kick flying off the motorcycle and hurtling against the gigantic gates to the city. I scream her name. Mina falls off and her body is curled up like a ball at the edge of the golden gates to the City of Vikings.
Lowering my wrists, I run toward her. He turns and grabs me, tossing me to the ground like a sack of bricks. When I get to my feet, he knocks the air out of me, his fist smashing into my spine. I lay flat on my stomach watching the monster hover over me. His punch was hard, and I should be dead – but I feel nothing, as if protected by a shield. Yggdrasil.
Noddabah moves toward Frederick, who stands still looking at Mina’s creased body slowly unfolding. I scream, emptying my lungs, and wave my hands – anything to distract the giant monster, but he doesn’t turn. Mina tries to rise but her small frame has no strength and she collapses to the ground.
Mina screams my name, but her cries are muffled in the dust of the wind. My eyes meet Frederick’s – terrified and fearless at the same time, he plucks up courage and faces the monster with the sword in his hands. He flings the sword at the monster and it bores through his leg. Frederick makes a jump, latching onto the monster’s back. He swings and grabs the sword, pushing it deeper into Noddabah’s neck. The monster’s teeth fleck with spittle and blood as he snarls and howls. His leg twitches and he staggers, with one knee hitting the ground.
“Hear me now, Veran,” he scowls. “The sword belongs to Viking assassin descendants and that you are not. Give me the sword and I shall let you live.” Flinging himself onto Noddabah with the sword in his hand, Frederick climbs up his chest. He sinks the sharp blade into his throat, twisting it while whispering spells of evil.
The monster stumbles onto its back, and is about to crush the ground. Quickly I climb my way up Noddabah’s heavy dough-like body. Frederick hands me back my sword.
“Finish him,” he says mercilessly and wipes the sweat from his forehead. I jab the sword, illuminated like sparkling crystals, into the monster’s chest, over and over again – black blood pouring out like water. Noddabah bends forward and we jump off him holding hands. Frederick rolls me to the side, just before the monster drops, nearly crushing us underneath his heavy mass of saggy flesh.
Noddabah is stubborn and lashes out with this arm, knocking Frederick over. He howls long and loudly from his blood-soaked jaws.
“Give me the sword,” he says and rises. I turn to look at the sealed gate. The riddle washed out, the key gone and the sand timer turned. The branches on my back make a movement and for a moment I had forgotten about the tree of life Yggdrasil, but she did save me – her branches are a strong shield.
“Frederick,” I say. “I know the answer to the riddle. I run to the entrance and whisper into the metal plate. “Yggdrasil.” The sky turns sunless and black ash falls like snowflakes from the sky. A roar of thunder, Noddabah convulses and judders. He twists and writhes as if bathing in snake venom.
Light gushes through the gate as it opens, spreading the wings of the gods. The brightness hurts my eyes. I blink vigorously, holding my arm up to shield my eyes. Through the rays of light shapes take form. There appears a small army of men holding shields and spears. Quivers strapped to their backs, one pulls an arrow so it fits tightly to the string of his bow. He tilts the bow and sets the arrow free, where it lands in Noddabah’s eye.
I turn my gaze as Frederick shouts my name. I throw myself on the ground, covering my head with my arms. Frederick runs toward me. He slides onto the dry ground and rolls me over, protecting me with his body over mine.
The air is thick and full of gray ash smudging on my body. I hear arrows shoot in unison and wild screams from the monster who receives them as he recedes into the ground, where the monster had come from.
Noddabah sinks into the soil like a sack of bricks to the bottom of the ocean. The last thing I see is his face screaming in agony. He shields his long-misshaped face with bulky and wobbly hands. The only thing left of the monster is his saggy black skin layered in a
white slimy substance pouring out ichor.
I stand up, with Frederick by my side, and stare at what Noddabah left behind. The skin folding together thinning out like paper before going up in flames and nothing except black smoke from the scorched earth dancing in front of us is left.
A warrior steps out, marches up to us with even steps and takes off his helmet, which is decorated with two great white horns. His hair is red and his eyes sparkling green like fresh meadow from the Shadow Forest.
“I am Balder, captain of the Viking army. Declare your name and purpose in the secret City of Vikings.”
Neither I nor Frederick reply to Balder. Perhaps we’re shocked. I know I am, and did not expect a cold reception like this after defying death to get here. Balder’s irritation begins to grow.
“This territory has been sealed for the past fourteen years by orders of the Viking Earl. If entering the gates without purpose the punishment is death,” he says gruffly. “Yes, that’s right, death.” He emphasizes the last word so intensely I cannot help myself feeling provoked.
I straighten my spine and add an inch to my height by standing on tiptoes and look into the captain’s eye while I wipe the dirt, blood and sweat away from my face.
“I am Nora Hunt – bearer of the world tree Yggdrasil. Chosen Viking assassin to protect the only true Empire, Goth. Our purpose here is our own.”
“Frederick Dahl – Viking descendant of the Veran clan.” The captain raises his eyebrows and looks concerned.
“A Goth and a Veran?” Balder snorts and spits out a slimy substance.
“Who is the midget?”
“She’s with us,” I say. “Please do not hurt her.” Armed men raise their arrows at Mina as she gains consciousness.
“Imprison them and bring them to the dungeon,” says Balder. “The Earl will decide their fate now.”
A dim sky, dirty and gray, falls in on us, the rays of light gone with the ashes. Then something happens. We enter through the gates and streams of golden sunlight flood our way, like the opening of a treasure chest. We are inside the City of Vikings and there in the grand marble foyer a world unimagined becomes visible.