The Legends of Orkney

by Alane Adams

  Loki headed north. It was time to pay a visit to Gomara.

  Angerboda awaited.

  He flew fast, not stopping for several hours. He passed several roving bands of black dwarves—probably out searching for new slaves for their mines.

  His sharp raven vision caught a flurry of movement along the coastal trail. He wheeled around, making a lazy circle above the party.

  The Vanirian queen. Riding hard. Trying to intercept her husband? But why? Dropping lower, Loki cawed harshly.

  A pair of familiar kids traveled with her. The same meddling children Odin had used as his guardians.

  Loki landed in the high limb of a tree and morphed back into human form, holding on to the branch for balance as they passed below. Rage flowed through his veins, making his head pound with fury. The queen would try to stop her husband.

  Loki made a clicking sound. “Now, that will not do, my lady. Not at all.” He cupped a hand to his mouth and sent out a shrill caw. At once, birds lifted from the branches of every tree, black birds, dark as night. Ravens. They heard his call and came swarming, circling above him as he cawed out his instructions.

  After two days of hard riding, Keely had no feeling left in her lower limbs. Their small party followed a thin rocky trail along the coastline. They had stopped for snatches of rest to water the horses and sleep for a few hours. In the evenings, after supper, Leo showed her how to whittle arrows. He preferred wood from the small birch saplings they passed and quills from the wing feathers of iolars, but Keely had been playing with a special arrow. One she hoped would kill its target.

  Late in the afternoon on the third day, Reesa raised her hand to signal a halt. “We will stop here,” she announced.

  Keely sank to the ground, collapsing on a patch of frost-covered grass while the queen’s men set up a tent for the queen for privacy. Leo started a small fire and began boiling water. The air had a sharp bite to it even though the sun shone down; it was cold enough that Keely’s nose was red. She cradled numb fingers around the steaming cup of tea Leo passed her.

  “Do you think we’ll get there in time?” Keely asked.

  Leo shrugged, warming his hands over the fire. “It will be close. The horses are tired. We can’t push them this hard for much longer.”

  A strange sound made the hairs on the back of Keely’s neck stand up.

  Leo lifted his head sharply and looked at the woods. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes. It sounded like the call of a raven, only different.”

  Keely’s Eifalian senses were buzzing with danger. Something about that call had been off. Wrong. Electricity crackled in the crisp air. Keely stood, searching for any signs. The cry came again, and this time it was echoed by others.

  Hundreds.

  The queen and her men stopped talking and turned to face the woods.

  And then the attack began.

  Swarms of ravens spiraled out of the trees and attacked them with beaks and claws. These birds were not normal. Their eyes glowed red, their beaks were hooked, and their talons were razor sharp as they descended on their small group.

  The frost giants roared in rage, swinging their broad swords at the swarming birds. Three of them formed a shield around their queen, pushing her down and covering her while the other three battled the flock. They knocked some down with their shields, but more birds appeared, covering the sky like a swelling black cloud. In the center was a large raven, cawing loudly.

  Loki.

  Keely ignored the swarming birds. “Keep them off me,” she shouted to Leo. He grabbed a shield and swatted at them. The birds pecked his arms and face, but he kept them away from Keely. She drew her bow and calmly nocked the special arrow she had made. She hadn’t explained to anyone why she had carved it, and even now she didn’t know if it would work. She took a breath to steady her aim, following the bobbing and weaving black bird as it danced in the sky, urging the other ravens to attack.

  With a silent prayer, Keely released the arrow. It flew straight and true for the large raven. At the last second her target spied the danger and flared its wings to spiral away. The shot, aimed for its heart, just missed, but it embedded under its wing.

  The bird spiraled into the woods, shifting and transforming into a familiar stocky figure with only its raven’s wings remaining. Whatever spell Loki had held over the ravens was broken, and they began to move off, flitting through the trees as the frost giants chased them with shields and swords.

  Keely went weak in the knees. Several of Reesa’s guards had suffered serious injuries to their faces and arms, pecked mercilessly by the ravens.

  One of their horses was dead, having plunged off the shoreline cliff to the rocky beach below. Two more had bolted.

  Reesa was bleeding from a deep gouge on her arm. Keely knelt by her side, pulling out her healing crystal.

  “Tend to my men first,” she said, her voice hoarse with pain.

  But the frost giants refused any care until their queen was seen to.

  “Stay here,” Leo said. “I’m going after him.”

  Keely nodded, already passing the crystal over Reesa’s arm. “Be careful. He’s wounded, but he’s still dangerous.”

  Leo ducked under thick undergrowth. He had been reading tracks since he was old enough to go with his father on hunting trips. Finally, he had a chance to undo the damage he had done. If he could find Loki, he would find a way to stop him. Leo gently touched the broken stems of bushes and eyed the impressions in the ground. This was where Loki had crash-landed.

  The God of Mischief would be bleeding from the arrow Keely had shot.

  There. A drop of blood on the leaf. Loki had gone in that direction.

  Leo moved swiftly, enjoying being out in the woods. It had been too long. He had too many memories of being trapped in darkness and death in the underworld. Leo trotted easily while following the trail of blood, and then, abruptly, the trail stopped.

  He turned in a circle, going back to the last drop of blood and carefully tracking his way forward. There were no more signs, no footsteps, no broken stems. He circled again until he was certain. Loki had vanished.

  The hair on the back of his neck prickled. The birds had gone silent in the trees. He turned slowly, keeping his breathing steady. His hand went to the knife at his belt.

  A spry muscular man stood behind him, a wide grin plastered on his face. He held a small boulder over his head with one hand. The other hung limp at his side.

  “Surprise,” Loki chortled, and then he threw the rock at Leo’s head.

  Leo was ready this time, his reflexes primed to react. He dodged the rock. It scraped his shoulder, bruising him, but he stayed on his feet. He lunged for Loki’s throat with both hands, but the spry goat leapt up into the low branches of a tree and crouched on his haunches, staring down at Leo.

  “You’re faster but not any smarter,” he said wickedly, and then he dropped down and landed on Leo, taking him to the ground. Leo fought him off, but Loki put his good arm around Leo’s neck and tightened the grip, cutting off Leo’s air.

  Leo pried futilely at his arm. Loki was stronger than he looked. With a last-ditch effort, he punched the god in his wounded shoulder.

  Bingo.

  Loki howled with pain and rolled off. Leo leapt to his feet, his knife drawn. The two faced off.

  “Keely’s arrow hurt you,” Leo said. “How is that possible? You are a god.”

  “Your little friend must have run into a mistletoe bush,” Loki said, swiping at his shoulder and staring at the blood on his hand in awe. Then he wiped it off on his trousers like it was nothing. “Another thing I can thank Odin for besides centuries of imprisonment. I’m going to enjoy making her feel pain, boy. Revenge is sweetest when it’s dished out in spades.”

  Leo danced on the balls of his feet, watching for an opening. Loki had his own knife out. It looked like it was made of carved obsidian. He slashed clumsily at the boy, feigning ineptitude. Leo didn’t fall for it, holding back, and Lo
ki grinned wider.

  “Come on; show me what you’ve got. I’m in a bit of a hurry, and I’ve decided you’re going to help me.”

  “I’ll never help you,” Leo said, lunging with the knife for Loki’s heart, but the god of mischief was faster than he expected and he simply jumped in the air, pulling his knees up and leaping over Leo’s head to land behind him.

  Before Leo could turn around, something sharp pierced his back. There was a wrenching twist, a snap, then unending pain. He reached behind him, seeking the source, finding the cold hilt of Loki’s knife.

  He pulled it out, dropping to his knees as coldness flooded his veins. He looked up to see his own face grinning down at him. Leo tried to make sense of his twin, and then it hit him.

  Loki had shape-shifted into Leo.

  Keely is in danger, his brain screamed, but a funny numbness had taken over his limbs.

  “Oh, I think you’ll help me, like it or not,” Loki said, pushing Leo over with one finger.

  Keely had been tying off wounds and using her healing crystal for an hour when Leo finally emerged from the woods. He clutched at his shoulder as he limped into their campground.

  “Leo, are you okay?” She put her arms around his shoulders and helped him to the campfire.

  “Yes. Loki put a knife in me,” he grunted out, visibly in pain. There was a small crimson patch at his collarbone. “Then he got away.”

  “Let me see.”

  “No!” He pulled away. “I already tended to it. It’s just a shallow cut.”

  Keely frowned. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Her Eifalian senses were sending up warning flares. Before she could question him further, the queen cut in.

  “We must ride now,” she said. Her men looked uneasily at the trees as a raven let out a caw. “If we don’t, we will be too late. And that mischief-maker might return.”

  Chapter 18

  Their remaining horses quickly lathered up as they raced toward Ter Glenn. Their breaths came in labored chuffs in their chests. The rocky terrain followed the coastline, green trees lining one side and then dropping off to the sea on the other.

  Keely was sure every bone in her body had been jarred loose. Her backside ached, her head hurt, and her teeth had been jolted out of their roots. Then as they came around a sharp bend, the breath went out of her. Black smoke rose from the distant spires of Ter Glenn. Reesa drew up her horse sharply.

  “Oh no,” Keely breathed.

  “Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks,” Reesa said. But her words were hollow. Rolling plumes of smoke stained the sky, blotting out the crisp blue promise of the day.

  If only they hadn’t been delayed.

  The streets of Ter Glenn were deserted as they made their way into the city. A haze of smoke filled the air, stinging Keely’s eyes. Windows were broken out of shops, goods strewn into the sidewalks. A horse pulling an empty carriage raced down the street, hooves clattering on the cobblestones as it flew past them.

  “Where is everyone?” Keely asked.

  The queen answered through tight lips. “Joran has them corralled.”

  Keely’s heart clenched. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he will execute them one by one and then destroy the city.”

  Horror made her gasp. “What about the women and children?”

  Reesa shook her head. “There is no mercy during war.”

  “That’s horrible,” Keely said, rethinking her image of the man who had been almost kind to her.

  A shrill horn blast pierced the air. Reesa kicked her horse sharply, and they clipped along an alley toward the sound. As they made their way around a wrecked storefront, they came to a wide-open park of green grass.

  A sea of Eifalians dressed in white robes sat cross-legged, heads tilted back slightly as they murmured a low chant.

  “They’re combining their auras,” Keely said, feeling the tingling sensation of hundreds of Eifalians sending out tranquil blue waves. “They’re trying to calm the Vanir.”

  It wasn’t working. The frost giants taunted the enclosed Eifalians, shouting threats at them. Thankfully, it didn’t look like anyone had been harmed.

  Yet.

  “Can you stop them?” Keely asked Reesa, but before the queen could answer, Joran appeared in the crowd.

  The king held a double-headed ax, which he swung in a broad stroke over his head. Before him, a man kneeled, his head held down on a solid block of wood by another frost giant.

  Gael!

  Keely gasped. The new Eifalian king didn’t struggle, but she could feel his fear, his tight grip on his composure. Their eyes met across the square. He silently pleaded with her to stop this. She opened her mouth to scream. She would not allow another king to die, but, before she could cry out, a voice rang out.

  “Stop!”

  Reesa’s voice rang in the chilly air.

  Joran flinched, and the ax he was bringing down swung to the side and thankfully missed Gael’s neck, embedding in the dirt. A wall of frost giants raised swords, protecting their king.

  At the sight of his wife, Joran’s face flashed with surprise. “Reesa?” He stepped forward, thrusting his men aside to reach her. “The children, are they okay?”

  “Yes, Joran. They’re fine.” She dropped down from her horse to face him. “You must stop this.”

  Keely slid down to stand beside her, but Joran’s eyes were locked on his wife’s. “I cannot. The Eifalians threatened our son.”

  Reesa remained calm. “The Eifalians had nothing to do with it. It was Loki. He was toying with us.”

  Joran snorted with laughter. “Loki? That mischief-maker has been long dead. What nonsense is this?”

  “It’s not nonsense,” Keely said. “My friend Leo freed him from the underworld.” Speaking of Leo, where was he? He should be here, at her side.

  “I listened to you once,” Joran said. “It cost me many good men.”

  “Listen to her again,” Reesa said. “The Eifalians have done us no harm. It was Loki who led our son astray and then pretended to be one of them. They are innocent.”

  His face clouded with anger. “No! I don’t believe you. You heard our son. It was an Eifalian that took him. This girl has talked nonsense to you.”

  One of his men pressed a double-bladed ax in his hands, and he raised it over Gael’s head. The Eifalian king was gagged, his head held in place by two large frost giants.

  “I am not so easily swayed, husband.”

  “We must avenge our treaty,” he growled.

  “No.” She laid a hand on his arm. “We must rebuild a new world.”

  Keely could sense that Joran wasn’t going to back down. The warrior in him needed revenge. This was going to be worse than the day King Einolach died. Keely couldn’t let that happen.

  She stepped forward. “Joran, these people are not your enemy. But if blood must be spilled, take mine.”

  Joran gripped the ax, frowning at her as if he was confused. “You would give your life for these people? You are not even of this world. Why do you care so much?”

  “Because they’re my friends. I may not have been born here, but I’m here now. King Einolach sacrificed his life for honor—would you take another life to keep your stupid pride intact?”

  Joran switched his attention to his wife. “My love, you are certain of this treachery? Loki is behind this?”

  “Yes,” she answered, clasping her hands around his death grip on the ax and forcing him to lower it. “I would swear it on the life of our children.”

  He held her gaze a long moment. Then he gritted his jaw and nodded. Throwing the ax to the side, he spoke. “People of Ter Glenn, we have grieved you. We will make amends.”

  The seated Eifalians stirred.

  “We will withdraw from your city and offer our help to rebuild what we have destroyed.”

  Keely rushed forward, taking Gael’s arm and lifting him, loosening his bonds. A small body hurtled toward her, tackling he
r.

  Theo. Gael’s orphaned nephew.

  “You came.” He hugged her tight. His face was streaked with dirt and blood from a scratch over his eye.

  She patted his back. “Of course we came, Theo. Every-thing’s going to be okay now.”

  Gael held his hand out to Joran. “The Eifalians have long sought peace with our neighbors to the north. We cannot erase the past, but we can write a future where we are no longer enemies.”

  The two kings stood face-to-face and clasped arms, at once so different and alike. One was tall and gigantic, the other frail-looking and pale in comparison, but both had the same regal bearing.

  A mewling voice interrupted the peaceful moment.

  “No, no, no, this is not how it’s supposed to go!”

  A man stood up in the center of the park and threw back his hood, revealing a chiseled face and angry sneer. He had long white hair, but Keely recognized something ancient in that cold gaze.

  Loki.

  He drew a bow from his robe and nocked an arrow. “These Vanirian filth have defiled our city! They killed our king! Slaughtered him like livestock. We must fight!” He let loose the arrow as the Vanir stood in shock.

  Keely was the first to react, flinging herself at the queen and shoving her to the side. But Loki had aimed for Joran. The arrow flew past her head, straight for the Vanirian king. In a blur of green, Gael was there, his body shielding the frost giant’s.

  The arrow struck with a thud, and the plaza froze.

  Joran’s guards were the first to fight back, lashing out at the Eifalians that rushed forward to assist Gael. Joran shouted to his men to stay calm, but the bloodthirsty giants had seen firsthand the Eifalians attack their king.

  They took up their swords and attacked the passive Eifalians. Then from the trees surrounding the field, a contingent of hidden Eifalian warriors appeared, flinging back their robes and unleashing a flurry of arrows at the Vanir.

  Keely tried to keep an eye on the bow-wielding culprit, but he was lost in the crowd of teeming Eifalians. Arrows soared through the air. As they were about to land on the Vanir, Gael nodded at her from where he lay with the arrow still embedded in his shoulder.