by Alane Adams
Surt leapt out of his chair, drawing a broad sword from his back—the flaming Sword of Bal. A blast of glowing fire shot from the blade as he wielded it over Loki’s head. “Those evil spawn?” he roared. “I will split you in half before I let that happen.”
Loki reached up and pinched Surt’s cheeks. “Okay, gotta run, good talking to you.” Then he shifted into his raven form, slipping through Surt’s fingers and flapping his wings to take to the air. A twisting blade of fire from Surt’s sword singed his tail feathers, but he flew higher and higher, up through the chimney and into the night sky.
As Loki flew through the ash and embers of the Musspell volcanoes, he couldn’t stifle a grin. His beak opened wide. Finally, after centuries of waiting and plotting, his plan for revenge was in motion.
Chapter 2
Gilded sunlight pierced the branches of the forest, spreading a dappled pattern on the mossy ground, but Sam had no time to enjoy the summer day. He was too busy running for his life. Bushes whipped at him as sweat poured down his face.
“Keep up,” Keely chided at his side as she leapt fluidly over a log. “They’re closing in.”
Sam increased the pace, sending a blast of witchfire at a branch, bringing it down behind them to slow their pursuers. “They’ve got Leo and Howie,” he huffed.
“We can save them,” Keely said. “Just stay close.”
Easier said than done. Now that Keely was part Eifalian, she could run like a deer. Her steps were light-footed and sure as she dodged low branches and tumbled rocks. Her bow was slung over her shoulder along with a quiver of arrows. Her white hair was a blur as she ran. Sam’s heart pounded, his breath labored, but he grimly kept pace.
Shouts behind them let him know they’d been seen. The crashing of brush warned of their pursuers closing in. The low-pitched howl of a Shun Kara made the hair on the back of Sam’s neck rise. With a slight turn of his head he saw the large black wolf loping off to the side, hemming them in. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, exposing bone-rending fangs.
“I can see water,” Keely said. Through the trees, Sam caught the blue shimmer of the lake.
“You’re sure Howie and Leo are there?” he managed between breaths.
“Yes, I sense them.” Keely’s legs stretched even longer. Sam had learned not to argue with Keely’s new Eifalian senses. She was uncannily right.
Then he saw them.
The two boys were tied to a tree. Leo shouted a warning, but Sam was in too big of a hurry to save his friends. He broke into the clearing and took two more steps before a vine snapped up, tripping his feet and sending him flying.
Keely nimbly dodged the trap, but a blast of witchfire ripped a hole in the ground in front of her and she lost her footing. She fell facedown, sliding to a stop next to Sam. They sat up, spitting out bits of grass and mud to look up into the grinning faces of Perrin and Mavery.
“Gotcha,” Mavery crowed.
Jey jumped out of the brush. “My trap worked!”
The Shun Kara placed a large paw on Sam’s chest with a rumbling growl.
Perrin gave a sharp whistle, calling her pet to her. “Damarius. Come.”
“Yeah, get lost, dog-breath,” Sam said, shoving the shaggy head away. The oversized wolf trotted back to Perrin’s side, and she ran her knuckles over his ears.
“No fair,” Howie said as Leo untied them from the tree. “They were just about to free us.”
“Sorry, losers, we win,” Jey said smugly. “Never thought I’d like teaming up with a pair of witches, but these two aren’t half bad.”
He high-fived the little witchling. Perrin folded her arms and smirked.
Sam watched as Leo tackled Jey into the lake. Howie climbed on a rock and jumped in with an awkward cannonball. They splashed about in the shallows, taunting the rest until Keely shed her boots and waded in to her knees. Mavery went in, dress and all, floating lazily.
Only Perrin held back, leaning against a tree, Damarius at her feet. The Shun Kara had belonged to her mother. After her death, it had become her constant shadow.
Sam grinned. It was good to see them having fun. It had been a long time coming.
In the days following the defeat of the Volgrim witches, life had been filled with the task of rebuilding Orkney. Keely, Leo, and Howie didn’t talk about going back to Pilot Rock, which was just as well because Sam’s mom had shaken her head with a frown when asked if it was possible. Portals were tricky things, she explained. They opened when Orkney needed its heroes and disappeared when she was done with them. Skara Brae was home for now.
Howie and Keely made the best of it. Keely worked on her newly gained Eifalian magic, and Howie trained with the Orkadian Guard as Captain Teren’s squire. Even Perrin was slowly warming up to being part of their circle of friends.
Only Leo seemed troubled, nagged by something he couldn’t remember about his time in the underworld. He had confided in Sam that he had failed in his role as the Sacrifice, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember how.
Guilt prickled Sam’s skin. His friends were trapped here because he had killed Odin. That was the problem. While Sam had been locked in a battle with his darker side, he’d let Catriona influence him to take the deadliest of actions. With a single plunge of his enchanted blade, Odin, the mighty god who held the very essence of life in him, was gone.
Above the clearing, a falcon let out a piercing shriek. Covering his eyes from the bright sun, Sam tried to spot it in the cloudless sky. It was probably Lingas. The annoying bird was always following them. A dark blob circled overhead.
Hmm, that’s too large to be Howie’s iolar, Sam thought. Curious to see what the bird of prey was after, he watched as it dropped like a bullet out of the sky. It was aiming straight for him.
Stunned, Sam didn’t have time to move before talons raked at his face, clawing to get at him.
“Hey, get off me. What’s your problem?” Flinging his hands out, he shouted, “Testera ventimus,” and blew the falcon back, tumbling it against a tree with a sharp wind.
The bird hit the trunk and slumped to the ground, and then it shimmered before turning into the shape of a woman. She was old, but regal. Once-red hair was liberally streaked with gray. Her head was topped by a crown of gold. She wore a gown of heavy white silk tied at the waist with a golden cord.
Perrin swiftly moved to Sam’s side, Damarius snarling and crouched, ready to pounce at her signal. The others splashed out of the water to form a semicircle.
“What do you want?” Sam demanded.
The woman drew herself up tall as she strode three steps forward to stand in front of Sam, planting large hands on her ample hips before stating in a voice thick with contempt, “I am the goddess Frigga, witch-boy. Wife of Odin. You killed my husband. For that you will die.”
The queen of the gods drew a golden dagger from her side. The hasp was encrusted with fiery jewels. The long, pointed blade glinted in the sunlight as she advanced on him. “I intend to carve your heart out and then mount it on a stake outside my window so that every day the crows might feed on it and I might remember the vengeance I executed on his behalf.”
“Over my dead body,” Perrin said, stepping in front of Sam. Damarius snapped at the air as she drew a ball of witchfire over her hand.
“Mine, too,” Mavery hissed, holding a matching ball of witchfire.
“And mine,” Keely said, notching an arrow in her bow.
“Mine,” Jey said, flashing his hunting knife.
“Mine as well.” Leo stood at Jey’s side, his own blade in hand.
“What they said,” Howie added, curling his hands into fists.
Sam held a hand out to quiet his friends. “Look, I’m sorry. If I could take it back I would. I loved Odin.”
Frigga grabbed him by the shirt, placing the knife to his throat, ignoring the others as she spat out, “And yet you betrayed him.”
Guilt lanced his heart as if she had stuck him with the knife. His shoulders sagged. “I know. I would do a
nything to undo it. I still can’t believe he’s really gone.” He raised his eyes to hers, not flinching as he said, “So go ahead. End my life. I won’t blame you.”
“Sam!” Keely punched his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. Odin was a god. He should have stopped you.”
“Yeah,” Perrin added, stepping closer to the queen. “Why didn’t he do anything about that enchanted blade?”
Frigga ignored them. She pressed the blade harder against Sam’s throat, and he waited for her to remove his head. Part of him wanted her to, just to get rid of this guilt he carried.
Her brows drew together as she studied him. And then slowly she lowered her blade. “You humans are curious beings. You profess your guilt, but I see no malice in you.”
Frigga sheathed her dagger and crossed her arms. Her golden eyes flashed with sparks of amber. “You said you would do anything to bring my husband back. Did you mean that? Or are they just words?”
Sam nodded. “I meant it. I would do anything.”
The queen stared at each of them, weighing them, and then she came to a decision. “Very well. You will have a chance at redemption. There is little time, and you will likely perish, but there may yet be a way to bring Odin back.”
Hope surged in Sam. “How? Tell me what to do.”
Frigga paced the clearing, one hand to her chin as she said, “What’s left of Odin’s soul will be in the underworld. I would go myself, but entry by the gods is forbidden. But you, witch-boy, you can get into that dark place and find him.”
Howie slapped Sam on the shoulder. “Count me in. I’ve wanted to go to that dump since Leo said it was such a hunky-dory place.”
“Yeah, we’ve had a run-in with Sinmara before,” Sam said with an excited grin. “The entrance to Nifelheim is on the island of Pantros. If Odin’s there, we’ll get him back.”
His confidence faltered at her harsh laughter.
“You think a fool like Sinmara can hold someone as powerful as Odin?” Frigga looked down her nose at Sam and his friends. “Nifelheim is a playground compared to Helheim.”
“Where?” Sam asked.
“Helheim. The underworld of the gods. It’s overseen by Helva, the Goddess of Death.” She spat the name out like it was poison.
Frigga resumed her pacing. “Helva won’t risk keeping my husband’s soul in her catacombs. She will send it into the void, and Odin will be lost forever.” She whirled on them, raising her dagger over her head as she announced, “Hear me, Son of Odin. Bring my husband home to Valhalla before the rising of the new moon, or you and all your friends will face judgment in front of the Gods’ High Council.”
Shock made Sam weak in the knees. “Valhalla? Where’s that?”
Frigga glared at him. “Asgard, you fool. Do you know nothing of the gods?”
Sam’s temper rose. “I know Asgard was destroyed when Odin died.”
Frigga snorted, waving one hand. “Asgard is like a house with many rooms. That island was just one piece of it, Odin’s private retreat. The gods reside in the golden city of Valhalla. You must cross the Bifrost bridge to reach it. Only those worthy can pass the gatekeeper.”
“How do we find that?” Keely asked.
Frigga wrapped her cloak around her. “Look to the sky. When you see a rainbow that doesn’t fade with daylight, head toward it and hope that the gatekeeper, Hemidall, doesn’t kill you.” She shimmered as her form began to shift back into a falcon.
Sam stepped forward, pleading, “Frigga, please tell us where to start. How do we find Helva?”
“You are a Son of Odin. Find a way or face your execution. All of you.” With a flash of light, she became the winged bird again. She sprang with taloned feet into the air, grazing Sam’s face with her beak, leaving a long, thin cut that stung.
They watched in awe as the falcon gained in altitude. Sam strained his eyes so as not to lose sight of the majestic bird. Frigga was flying to the west. If she was heading back to Valhalla, it would give them a direction. It was all they had to go on.
“Well, I must say this is a lot of trouble to be in, even for you.” Perrin raised one dark eyebrow at him. Damarius woofed softly, looking at her like he agreed Sam was nuts. “Find Odin in some dark underworld or face the judgment of the gods? Bravo, brother. How do you always find yourself in so much trouble?”
“Just a gift I have. So, what do you guys think?”
“I think when you fail to save Odin, Frigga’s going to skewer our guts,” Jey said bluntly.
Keely elbowed the Falcory. “I think she’s given us a plan,” she said quietly. “A way to go forward. There must be hope if she has asked you to bring Odin back.”
Sam rubbed his hands together. “Right. Finding Valhalla should be a piece of cake compared to finding Helheim. Any idea where to start?” He looked at Perrin. She had the most experience with Orkney magic.
She shook her head. “Sorry, my mother never mentioned it.”
Keely nibbled on one finger as she thought it over. “I could find Mimir and drink from his well? It worked last time when I cut off my hair to see Sam’s fate.”
“No one knows how to find Mimir unless he wants to be found,” Sam said. “It could take weeks to locate him. There has to be another way.”
“I know how to find Helva,” a voice piped up. They turned to see Mavery twirling her skirts as she danced in a circle. “Jasper told me a story about the Goddess of Death once. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it.
Perrin looked at Sam. “Who’s Jasper?”
“An old sea captain that plucked this pest out of the ocean. He’s a Son of Aegir, the sea god. Spill it, imp; don’t keep us waiting.”
They sat down on the ground and waited for Mavery to tell the story. She hopped from foot to foot as she chewed her lower lip, remembering.
“In the days of the gods, Loki, God of Mischief, had three children with his wife, Angerboda. One day, Loki played a trick on Odin’s son Baldur to prove he wasn’t invincible, and Baldur died. Odin was so mad he banished Loki and his family forever. His oldest son, Fenrir, is a giant wolf with claws that can rip a man in half with one swipe. Odin sent Fenrir to Groll, a rock in the middle of the ocean, and tied him up with a chain that couldn’t be broken no matter how hard Fenrir pulled. But his brother was even worse.”
“Who was his brother?” Keely asked.
Mavery’s eyes shone as she waved her hands in the air. “Jormungand, the biggest, horriblest sea monster you ever saw. A snake as long as the world and as wide as the ocean. Teeth like needles and red eyes you can see from a mile away. He’s locked up in an underwater prison with bars so thick he can’t gnaw through them. Fenrir holds the key to unlocking his cell in the collar around his neck.”
“Why would anyone want to open it and let him out?” Leo asked.
“Because Jormungand has the only map to Helva’s underworld. It’s scratched into the wall in the back of his cell.”
“Great,” Sam said. “And what’s Helva, a two-headed wild beast with fangs and claws?”
“Worse, Helva is half-corpse, half-human, and completely evil.” Mavery curtsied as her story ended. “So, who’s up for an adventure?”
Before any of them could answer, a blood-curdling screech sounded overhead. Sam looked up as a giant winged creature flew past, larger than an Omera and shimmering with red and orange scales. Its head was square and feline, with long white teeth curving down over its jaw, like a saber-toothed tiger. On its back sat a massive man, his skin a similar red. A long black ponytail sprouted from the top of his head. His chest was strapped with leather coverings and a breastplate of studded metal with sharp points. He drew back on a large bow and unleashed a flaming arrow at them. Sam rolled aside as the fiery shaft struck the ground next to him.
Chapter 3
News of the attack spread quickly. Captain Teren greeted them at the gates as Howie gingerly carried the still-flaming arrow inside. The stalwart Orkadian soldier looked frightened. His face was pale under his she
af of thick blond hair. “High Council chambers, now,” Teren ordered. The gate was closed and sealed firmly behind them.
They crowded into the meeting room. Perrin had to order Damarius to stay outside three times. The Shun Kara hated being parted from her, but his fearsome size tended to intimidate even the most battle-worn Orkadians.
Inside the meeting room, Orkadian banners hung from the wall made of red silk with the white heron emblazoned on the front. A pair of chandeliers held burning candles that cast a warm glow over the room.
Sam’s mom, Abigail, sat at the head of the table claiming her place as Chief High Council. The pesky dwarf, Rego, sat on her left rubbing his whiskered chin worriedly. To Abigail’s right sat Leyes, the newly appointed Eifalian representative. With Gael now king, his young cousin had taken his place on the council. Leyes had long white hair he left loose, and he wore the aqua green robes favored by the Eifalians.
Next to him sat Beo. A row of dangling iolar feathers hung from his ear lobes. The Falcory’s face looked grim as he eyed the still-flaming arrow Howie carried into the room.
“Quickly, put it on the table,” Abigail said.
Howie set it down and she leaned forward, murmuring a spell. With a wave of her hand, the arrow finally went out. It lay there, glowing red and smoldering.
“Anyone care to explain the meaning of this?” she asked.
“Only one army has fire like this,” Beo said. He sniffed at the smell of sulfur rising from the ashes. “The Eldjotnar. An army of fire giants to the south. Their arrows are dipped in the molten lava of Musspell. Surt is said to own a flaming sword named Bal. With it he could burn an entire village and hardly trouble himself.”
There were gasps and groans from around the room.
“Who are they?” Sam whispered to Perrin.
“The fire giants are ruled by the warrior god, Surt,” she whispered in his ear. “They are the enemy of mankind. Odin’s protection kept them at bay, but somebody killed him,” she pointed out.
Sam ignored her dig, gulping back his fear as Captain Teren said, “We have always known that Surt was a threat, but he has never made a move against us before. Why now?”