Queen of Swords: The Banished Gods: Book One (The Banished Gods Series 1)

by L. A. McGinnis

  QUEEN OF SWORDS

  The Banished Gods: Book One

  L.A. McGinnis

  Copyright © L.A. McGinnis 2019

  All rights reserved

  Editor: The Editing Hall

  Cover Design: Brynna Curry

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form or by any means, without express permission from the author or publisher. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Please contact the author for any use in a review.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, including businesses, companies, events or locales is purely coincidental. This author acknowledges the trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-00-9

  ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-01-6

  Published in the United States of America by Fools Journey Press, 2019

  Please visit my website at www.lamcginnis.com

  Contents

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Epilogue

  The Moon

  “I’ll never pause again, never stand still.

  Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine

  Or fortune given me a measure of revenge.”

  -Shakespeare

  Prologue

  “Let me tell you a story.”

  Sitting on a log, in a forest dappled by the last rays of sunset, ten year old Balder almost missed Odin’s words, half-hidden beneath the hum of the night creatures singing around them. Their royal guard was camped a way off, and he could hear the occasional stamping of horses and men’s laughter. In front of him, a dying fire cast dim light across their small clearing. Overhead, the trees formed an uneven frame around the purple-blue sky, shimmering with the first stars, some so close they seemed to drop down, begging to be touched.

  Anticipation tingled through him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck ever so slightly. “Is it the one about Loki? And how he’s going to end the world someday?”

  “Haven’t you heard that one enough? I’d think you’d be tired of it by now.” Frowning a little, Odin reached out and ruffled his son’s golden hair.

  “No, I’ll not be telling you that one tonight. This particular story,” Odin continued, “dates from before those stars you are so enamored with existed. Before this world was created. Or any other world, for that matter.”

  Balder dropped his eyes from the sky to Odin’s face, flickering between the firelight and the shadows. His father’s pure, white hair was pulled back by a thin, silver band, his handsome face kind and calm, and both were dressed in casual hunting attire. They’d spent the entire day in the woods but had nothing to show for it. Which suited Balder just fine. He hated killing, something he’d explained to his father over and over today. Odin had simply smiled gently and told him at ten years old, he should at least know how to shoot a bow.

  So here they were.

  “But the worlds have always been here, haven’t they?”

  “The worlds and everything else, the stars, the darkness between them, the people, the animals, plants… There was a time when none of this existed. From a time before time itself.”

  “But no one can create time, can they?”

  “The very first of the gods could.”

  Balder smirked. “But we’re gods, Father.” The sun smudged the horizon, dropping behind the trees as the sky slipped from velvety blue to inky black. “And the stars have always been up there in the sky. Mother said they’re eternal. That means forever.”

  Odin smiled fondly at his son before stoking the fire, sending a spiral of bright sparks into the sky. “Everything has a beginning, my child, just as everything ends. Never think you are above death. Because nothing lasts forever.” Odin hesitated, as if what he was about to say pained him, somehow.

  “First, there were only The Three. No one knows who they were or where they came from, but it was they who first separated the darkness from the light. But to create the light, first, the darkness had to be contained. Locked into a prison and sealed away. It took all the power of that first god to forge a prison strong enough to lock the darkness away.

  “And then, there were but two gods left.”

  “After The Third managed to seal away the darkness, The Second used an ancient magic, from before time, to scatter light throughout the dark place. These became the stars. And so the universe was born, and after that, the worlds. The Second God created countless worlds. Worlds beyond worlds, worlds beyond life, and even worlds beyond death. Some so strange and foreign, they are uninhabitable. Some so beautiful, coveted beyond reckoning, you would never want to leave.”

  “Like Asgard?”

  “Yes, Asgard is one of the finest, I should think. Although the other Nine have their charms.”

  “And then what?”

  “The creation of our universe used up the energy of this second god, leaving only The One. And then The One populated all these worlds with humans, creatures, Fae, immortals, world walkers, and other beings.” Scooting nearer his father as the hum around them increased, Balder relaxed as Odin wrapped an arm around him. “After all life was created, The One ceased to be, having given all of itself to populating the universe with his creations.

  “But it’s not of the worlds, or even creation that I wish to speak to you. Because you are a king’s son, and as such, you must be wary of many things.”

  Something inside Balder went quiet. His father seldom spoke of such things as kings and caution. And with an intensity far beyond that of a child, he listened.

  “You are smart and clever, and one day, this world and the others will be yours to care for. I can only teach you what I know, and I have seen something in my dreams, son. Something that is bothering me greatly.”

  Everyone knew Odin saw the future and, of course, knew all about the past, and everything that was happening in all the worlds. Which was wh
y he was the king of all the realms and not someone else. “There may come a time when the darkness The Three sealed away could return.”

  “Where is it?”

  “No one knows for sure, but what I’ve seen…” Odin’s voice trailed off, and it was a moment before he looked down at his son again. “Let me tell you of these dreams, and then you tell me what you think of them, at the end.”

  “In my vision we are all older. Much, much older. And I am… I have changed. Greatly.” A tremble rippled through his father’s voice. “You are grown, Balder, although I believe we are no longer on Asgard. The world I saw in my vision is covered in stone, and the sky is starless, as if light itself has been consumed by darkness. And we are not…friends. Not even father and son any longer. It is as if something was broken between us. Between all of the gods.”

  “But somewhere, in a very cold, dark place, a door cracks open and something emerges. In my dream, I cannot see exactly what it is, but I believe it is this dark god. He is filled with vengeance, raging at being locked away for so long. One of the gods opens those doors for this monster, son. One of us releases him, but I cannot catch a glimpse of his face nor how it is done.

  “All I know is this. If he returns, if this vision comes to pass, the dark god brings nothing but death with him. Every world will topple, one after another. Even if we fight with all we have, we will never defeat him. I believe the trick is, never to let him escape in the first place.”

  Balder puzzled over the dream. His father’s visions often held clues to bigger events, but this one…

  “So you know where his prison is?” Balder asked again.

  “No one knows for sure, only that it is beyond our reach.” Odin hesitated before adding, “There was something else, son. The creatures of the Underworld, Hel’s minions, I saw them loosed upon this world.”

  “But that is impossible, Father. Everyone knows Hel is bound to her realm as are her creatures. Loki will always keep his daughter contained. He knows well the danger…”

  “Both of Loki’s children, Fenrir and Hel, were present in my dream.” Balder’s eyes grew wider, even as Odin hurried to query, “But what of the dark god, can you imagine a way for him to be freed?”

  “If the prison is indeed beyond our reach, then how could any of us unlock it?” Balder wondered out loud. “We cannot unlock what we can’t find.” He smiled, his golden eyes flashing. “But isn’t that the entire point? To keep it hidden away, beyond all detection?” Something in his father’s face loosened, his eyes grew clearer.

  “You say it took The Three to forge the prison, right?”

  Odin dipped his head.

  “If it took all of their power to seal just one god in, and they created the universe, the worlds, everything, how can just one of us possibly undo all of that?” Balder thought of something else. “And what’s his name? I hardly think ‘dark god’ is a fitting title.”

  “Orobus, he is called in one ancient text, but most are loath to name him.”

  “If Orobus ever got loose, surely the gods could defeat him? All of us together? All of you together,” Balder corrected, his voice dancing with excitement. “Thor and Loki and Tyr and Mir, and you, Father, together. Nothing could stand in your way.

  “Not with all of you united.”

  “Therein lies the problem, my son.” Odin said sadly, shaking his head, the firelight dancing off the silver circlet on his forehead. “We are not united in this future of ours. We are enemies. And if we are enemies, we will not survive.”

  1

  The Joker

  Loki, God of Fire, leaned back in his bath on the twentieth floor of the Gothic skyscraper and watched the humans toil below.

  Lake Shore was a parking lot, even at this time of night, and he followed the lights as they inched along like ants, unbroken lines of cars heading north and south. Their trails of red and white distracted from the dark, endless sprawl of Lake Michigan beyond, the flat expanse of water consuming the city’s glow. A world with no edges, no boundaries. The floor to ceiling windows of his bedroom were leaded glass, so heavy it had taken men weeks to install them, back when men built such things and not machines.

  Building was about the only thing these humans did well, much like the ants he often compared them to. But now they just fixed the potholes and swept the streets. Day in and day out. That, and provided a source of food for the packs of demons roaming Chicago every night.

  Those clawed, fanged demons from the Underworld caught the scent of a warm, helpless mortal and then? Blood ran in the streets of Chicago.

  “We got problems, asshole, and sitting in there all night won’t solve a single one of them.” Mir’s voice through the thick oak door might be muffled, but he wasn’t wrong.

  We do have problems.

  Lifting his eyes to the bowl of stars overhead, Loki cursed, sensing the impatience of the immortal god waiting outside. He should have known better than to put off the inevitable. Should have known these few moments of quiet would be cut short, especially since he was perfectly comfortable exactly where he was. Healing from a night spent out on the streets.

  A night spent protecting the human he so despised.

  Every night they killed dozens of demons, and every damn night he ended right back here, staring out at the damn lake and feeling like they were losing ground. For two hundred years. Except now, they were losing ground. Lately, it seemed for each demon they killed, two more took its place. The city was crawling with them these days. The nightly news was full of reports of inexplicable attacks, missing person reports and the time had come to face the brutal fact. They were outnumbered. With more humans pouring into the city each day, the demons did what any apex predator did.

  They thrived.

  “I’ll be out when I’m done. You want to stand there all night, be my fucking guest.” Mir‘s faint grunt nearly made him smile as he pictured his friend, leaning against the wall, the picture of immortal patience.

  To complicate matters, someone else had joined their little war. Not very efficient and certainly sloppy, nevertheless, they had killed. At first, they’d found one demon, hacked to pieces in an alley by an unknown hunter. Then, a few weeks later, another. Then a few more after that. A year later, and the numbers were still racking up.

  But tonight, when they happened upon the four demons slaughtered in the alley, he realized they had a serious problem. His finger drumming against the rim of the tub, Loki stewed, fully aware of Mir outside. He’d want answers. Odin would want more. And Loki had none to give.

  Gods, four of the demons butchered. Hacked to pieces.

  The scent of fresh, human blood all over the scene. The smell of that blood had hit him viscerally, so deeply, he knew he’d remember if he ever came across it again. But no mortal body to be found. No drag marks, so the demons hadn’t taken it away.

  Chicago was Odin’s territory. Their territory. Always had been. Always would be. Odin allowed no other immortal gods to hunt this city. Except his own Chicago faction of immortals. Which raised the question, who, exactly, was doing the killing? As no human stood a chance against a single demon, let alone four, it was a valid question. With their nearly impenetrable skin, razor-sharp claws, and far worse teeth, Tyr forged unique titanium and glass-fused knives to penetrate their skin, for fuck’s sake. The demons moved so fast, no human could keep up with one, much less four. Throw in the fact they were all but invisible to the mortals…

  His finger stopped its incessant tapping.

  The facts added up to another god, hunting illegally in their territory. Maybe a rogue immortal from New York, maybe a disgruntled halfling from the west coast, looking to make a name for themselves. Who knew? But yeah, they had a problem. A serious one, most likely. And one he’d have to deal with. He pushed himself up in the tub, the gash he’d received earlier finally knitting itself back together.

  Dripping water on the floor, he threw a towel around his hips and walked to the window, frowning. Nights like these,
he missed home the most. But they were stuck here—on this shit-hole planet, or as he liked to call it, the armpit of the universe—and would be for the rest of their endless, immortal lives.

  He hated this fucking place. Crawling with Hel’s demons, they’d been tasked with the never-ending duty of protecting the humans, who were apparently too stupid to save themselves. Fuck, they couldn’t be bothered to see the damn things, not even when they were right in front of them.

  “Look, the rest of them are still out on the streets, haven’t come in yet so this is as good a time as any to do this. I’m giving you another minute, then I’m dragging your ass downstairs, naked. Or you can act your age and get dressed and give your report. Deal with this shit, will you?” Loki caught the clicking sound of a lighter, before the faint scent of smoke wafted through the room. “Goddamn it, Loki, do not make me come in there.” The asshole meant what he said, then. Mir would wait him out.

  Once, they were immortal gods, ruling over an endless universe. Now, they were nothing but watchdogs.

  No, nothing so noble. They were trash men, cleaning up after a death goddess who took her fun by loosing her vermin on the world and letting them feast on these soft, slow mortals. He swapped his towel for faded Levi’s, heavy boots, and a gray pullover. The oak door creaked as Mir’s patience gave out, and he stepped inside, his laser-sharp eyes skimming over Loki, the room, the water pooled on the floor, the night sky through the window. “Took your time, I see. Odin’s gonna want to hear about tonight.”