“Damn.” Morgane broke upward through the surface first, gasping for air while feeling around for anything solid. The rough fur she grasped must be Fenrir, and the dark shape she saw ahead of them could be her mother’s dark hair.
“Quickly, swim, Fenrir, catch her.” The animal’s strong strokes brought them beside a limp body, and Morgane heaved her mother alongside. “Gotcha.” She could only hope Loki had her sister, and as for Balder, well, she prayed he’d made it too.
As it was, all six of them heaved their battered bodies up on the muddy banks of the Gjoll. “We’re all alive,” Morgane stated, flopping backwards into the mud. And it was true because the three ghosts were no longer ghosts. They were as solid and scraped up and bloody as the rest of them. Loki reached for her. She rolled away. “I’m super pissed off at you. How the hell could you just fling me off a cliff like that? You had no idea…”
“Don’t be too mad at him. He sent me straight down after you.” Morgane’s mother crawled over, smiling wide. She reached out a trembling hand before drawing her finger down Morgane’s face, as if debating whether she was real. Then her mother lunged forward, and she was wrapped up tightly in her mother’s arms. Once Ava got in on the action, the three of them turned into one big, dripping, sloppy mess. Not knowing where one ended and the other began. Exactly what Morgane had hungered for, these last two long, lonely years.
Finally pulling back, Morgane looked at them both, her eyes starved for the sight of them.
Thin. They were both so thin. Gaunt and hollowed out, as if the very life had been sucked from them. Both of them looking as though they were nothing but skeletons with skin stretched overtop. But they were alive. Bleeding, scraped up, and alive. And closer to freedom than she’d dared hope for yesterday.
“God, I’ve missed you guys.” Dragging them back against her, Morgane was in overload, from the unplanned fall and this little family reunion. Which left just one last thing…
“Loki. My brother.” Where Loki was darkness and fire mixed together, Balder was…shiny bright. Golden blonde with an all-American boy look that was probably as popular now as it had been two thousand years ago. Loki took a step forward, then another and Balder met him in the middle. Then they slammed into each other. Not a cool, hey, bro, how you doin’ hug, but the same kind she’d just thrown down with her own family. They collided into a back pounding embrace, the sort that had both of them wiping their faces afterward.
A flare of brightness sparked in Loki’s eyes as he found hers. She smiled up at him, joy warming her heart for him. “Now what?”
Loki pointed up at the bridge looming up over them. “Now we have to get across that.”
Morgane, her mother, and Ava stared up at the underpinnings of the bridge. Then at the steep line of stairs carved into the stone, leading up to their end of the arched span. “It was easy enough to get in, but I had Odin’s help. He told me what to I had to say to that Modgud dude. What’s the trick to getting back? Another riddle or secret password?” Morgane couldn’t take her eyes off all those stairs. They seemed unending.
Loki sighed. “First, Modgud is a female giant, and second, nobody ever gets out crossing the bridge.” The skittering of claws grew louder as a wall of black crested the edge of the cavern behind them. The sea of Grim were coming.
Balder pointed to the top of the stairs. “I can get us across. I have something the giant wants. Hel wanted it too, but I wouldn’t give it to her. Denying her over and over again was what kept me sane. Well, partially sane, up there.” He tapped his finger on the side of his forehead. “Let us go.”
Even taking the steps two at a time cost them precious moments since they were all exhausted. The closer they got to the top, the slower their steps, the more labored their breathing.
And for every step they took, the sound of claws grew clearer. Closer. Rocks began falling all around them, dirt showering over them as the creatures skittered above them, clinging to the walls, the stones, shadowing their progress.
The pressure on her back grew firmer. “C’mon Morgane, we’ve got to make it to that bridge before the Grim are on us. If that happens, it’ll be a blood bath.” They climbed faster. Morgane had to hand it to them, Mom and sis kept up, having gone from ghostly to flesh to wet and drowned to running from gods and demons alike.
“Almost there.” The last words Loki husked out before they mounted the final step, and the long, endless span of bridge stretched out fifty feet ahead of them. Behind them, the claws slowed to a stop, as the presence of a thousand Grim hemmed them in between the bridge and a wall of rock.
Loki shoved her forward, feet tripping over themselves even on the level ground, Ava right beside her, Morgane’s hand gripping her thin, bony wrist, Balder and Fen behind. Grasping Ava firmly, Morgane pulled her along, Loki’s arm braced around her waist, supporting most of her weight as her legs faltered. Together, they ran for the end of that bridge as the wall of black monsters unfurled toward them.
Two steps. Ten. Twenty.
“Wait. Wait.” Morgane spun against Loki’s grasp, pushed against it. “Where is my mother?” She screamed. “Why isn’t she with us?”
The swaying, slight figure of Gwen Burke stood alone at the top of the steps, starkly outlined against the dark, empty abyss they had emerged from.
Holding the line. Unyielding.
“No,” Morgane whispered. “No, no, please, please, don’t let her do this. Not now.”
Ava shot her a horrified look. Both of them lurched forward, both of them were hauled back by strong arms banding around their bodies as Fenrir guarded their retreat, snarling, snapping, growling at the oncoming mass of claws and teeth.
And they watched helplessly as their mother was swallowed by a wave of endless black. The last of Morgane’s hope disappeared, too, as a long, agonizing scream spiraled out of her mouth.
Loki lunged forward and scooped her up, then realizing they had seconds at best, flung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and ran. A moment later, the band of survivors stepped onto the leading edge of the bridge together, the wood ringing hollow and dull beneath their feet. The wave of black hesitated. Stopped. Withdrew.
The misshapen, hooded giant poised on the edge of the bridge entrance, turned, and fixed an eye on them.
Without a backward glance, Balder strode up, whispered in the ear of the bent form, and motioned them all to follow. Numb, Morgane did as she was told.
She had failed. She had come here to get her family back, and she had failed. The words dogged every breath, every step, every freaking second it took to cross that never-ending bridge. Reverberated in every hollow step. Echoed in every heartbeat.
They were almost halfway across when Ava went down. First, only stopping in her tracks as if an invisible hand grasped her shoulders and held her still. Then she dropped to her knees with a faint moan of pain, an arm clamped to her stomach. Eyes wide and frightened, frantic, her other hand reaching, reaching out for Morgane’s as something, some invisible thing began dragging Ava backwards down the bridge from the direction they’d come.
Away from them. Toward the waiting horde of demons.
“Help her…get my sister…” Morgane screamed, reaching, fingers stretching for Ava’s as they were pulled apart, foot by foot, Ava fighting every inch of the way. “Oh God…Loki…please, don’t let them get my sister, too, please. Oh please.” Her eyes widened in panic as Loki ran for Ava, finally throwing her over his shoulder and stumbling back to them.
“I’ve got her… Come on, Morgane, run. Just a couple of minutes more and we’re free. The giant gave us her word, she’ll guard our retreat. We’re going to make it.” Her eyes glued to her sister’s white face, Morgane knew his voice well enough to know he was scared, and from the way the wolf was bristling at Ava, she could guess why.
“What’s wrong with her? What just happened? Was Hel trying to take her back?” Morgane’s voice rose higher and higher. “Is that what’s happening here?”
&nb
sp; But before she heard his answer, her eyes shuttered closed and she was falling, falling as the golden bridge rose up to meet her.
When she opened her eyes again, Mir’s white drop ceiling swam into focus before fading out again. Exhaustion still swam in her blood, heavy as iron, weighing her down until she thought it might pull her under. But the bright light he kept flashing into her eyes finally brought her back, until she shoved it away. “Can you please stop that?” Even to her, her voice sounded weary.
A warm, reassuring squeeze of her shoulder, and humor tinged his raspy chuckle. “Told you that’d do it.”
In return, she sighed. “Why do you always have to be such a dick?”
“Something about you brings it out of me, sweetheart. And if you ever disappear on me like that again… You’ll be lucky if all I do is kick your ass.” If she’d had enough energy, she might have smiled, the way he’d missed her and all.
“Enough.” Loki’s voice was so serious the whole room went silent. “What did Hel do to the sister?” Everybody looked to Mir, who shrugged, his eyes serious.
“Not entirely sure what this is. What it looks like… It seems like, the girl’s got some sort of darkness trapped inside of her. As if she brought part of the Underworld out with her. Not even sure that’s possible though. I’m going to run some tests.”
“Not only did she keep me prisoner down there, Hel put something inside of me. Is that what you’re saying?” Ava’s husky, deeper voice murmured right next to Morgane, as her cool, frail hand reached out and clasped Morgane’s.
They were stretched out on tables next to each other, and as their eyes met, Morgane saw silver lining her sister’s dark blue eyes, smudges of shadow against her gaunt, hollow face. The tears welling up in her own throat were quickly swallowed down. As were the mounting questions.
What was wrong with Ava? And Mom. Why, why had she sacrificed herself when they were all so close to escaping? Why had she thrown her life away?
Christ, this was like losing her all over again.
“I think Mir will need some time to answer that question properly, Ava. But I promise you, he’ll do everything he can to find the answers.”
Morgane blinked, Loki’s gentle, deep voice pulling her out of replaying what had happened down in the Underworld. Later. There would be time to mourn Mom later. Debate why she’d done it. For now? They had to figure out what was wrong with Ava. Right now, before Ava was dragged back down to the Underworld. Or worse.
Ava’s hand drifted over her stomach, hovered there. “It feels like I have something…heavy inside me.” Ava’s voice shook slightly. She turned to Mir hopefully. “Can you get it out?”
“I don’t even know what’s inside of you. So no, I can’t answer that question. Yet.” Mir’s eyes slid to Morgane’s, a touch of sympathy in them.
“Give him a little bit of time, Ava, he’s good at fixing things. Even mortal things like us.” Morgane shot her sister an encouraging look, then over to Loki, now involved in some deep discussion with Balder. “Do one of you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Balder stepped forward. “I may be able to shed some light on this situation.” He glanced over at Loki for confirmation. “But you’re not going to like it.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Morgane let her head fall back onto the table. She thought she’d been prepared for whatever outcome she faced today. Go to the Underworld, trick Hel, bring back a soul for Odin and a couple for herself, maybe get a shot at an actual future with Loki.
Hey, anything was possible, right?
What had she expected? She and Loki would live out their lives hunting down demons and kicking ass? Epic fucking unicorns and rainbows kind of shit? Instead, she’d watched her mother die. Again. Instead, Ava seemed to be one step away from turning into a wraith and infected with some type of hellish virus from the Underworld. Now she had to sit here and listen to this next horrible thing Balder was about to tell her.
Still, the truth is the truth, and dressing it up won’t make it any prettier. “Fine. If you know what’s happening, tell us.”
“You know, I’ve been down there a long time.” Balder’s voice was patient.
Whenever someone tells you they’re about to drop a big reveal on you, and then segues into bland, vague misdirection, you know you’re in big trouble. Especially when they start out with something as obvious as I’ve been down there a long time. Back to her original point. She really wasn’t ready to hear this.
“And being down there all that time, you hear things.” Balder’s eyes started to ping pong around the room, skimming over Loki, her, Fenrir, and finally settling on Mir. If Mir was the safe choice, she and Ava truly were in deep shit.
“What kind of things?” Loki’s voice was all casual-like, but he skirted the table and pressed closer to Morgane, so close she felt his warmth radiate into her. His hand began stroking her arm, calming her, keeping her steady. Readying her for whatever she was about to hear.
“Gossip, really.”
“Seriously, there’s gossip in the Underworld?”
“Gossip. Torture. Screaming. All sorts of things.” Watching Balder’s eyes begin to gleam, Morgane knew terrible things had happened to him down there. Really, really terrible things. “Hel likes to talk while she…works. Brag.” Those bright eyes landed on hers and stayed there. “Lately, she’s been talking about you.”
“Me?” Confused, Morgane’s brain scrambled around for an explanation. “Why in the name of all that’s holy would she even know about me? The first time she saw me, she acted like…”
“It was a surprise? Who you were?” Balder let out a hollow-sounding chuckle. “She knew exactly who you were.” His eyes slid over to Ava. “And who your sister is.” His voice grew softer. “As a matter of fact, she’s been following both of you for quite a while.”
“How is that possible?” Ava whispered. “I’ve been down there for…” She hesitated, confusion on her face. “For a long time, I think.” The shadows beneath her eyes were so dark they looked like bruises.
“Two years,” Morgane said quietly. “You’ve been gone for two years now, Ava.”
“Oh, God, it seemed so much longer. Okay, so I’ve been dead for two years. I never heard any…gossip.”
“I was there for thousands of years.” He shrugged. “You’re trapped somewhere for that long, you hear things.”
“Let me get this straight.” Mir rubbed his temples hard enough she heard the friction. “You’re telling me the Queen of the Dead knows these two mortals? Talked about them? What does that even mean?”
Balder flicked his eyes to Loki. “I think it means…”
He stopped midsentence the second Odin stepped in. Odin’s presence seemed to suck every bit of air out of the room. “You made it back.” His gaze, as he appraised Morgane, was dispassionate. Cold. “In one piece too. I trust things went as planned?”
Loki’s hand tightened on her arm. A warning. Morgane swallowed down the words bubbling up inside her. The emotions gnawing their way out. Her face, and her voice, smoothed out. “As well as could be expected. Considering.”
Odin offered Balder a cool nod, which was returned. They clasped hands. For such a brief moment, she thought she might have imagined it. So at odds with the long, emotional embrace he and Loki had shared. Father and son. Yet the rumor was, Loki was the one whose deeds kept Balder locked away all these years. Now she wondered.
“Who is this?” As Odin’s cold gaze raked her over, Ava pushed herself up onto her elbows, then painfully shifted her thin legs over the edge of the table, and sat up, that familiar, slightly questioning tilt to her head. Her dark hair swung forward, those eyes of hers, narrowing slightly, measuring up Odin in return. An undeniable gleam in the depths of her gaze.
Morgane had forgotten.
Forgotten what Ava looked like. Smelled like. Acted like.
Felt like when you were around her.
Ava had always been the beautiful one. St
riking, was how their mother had always described her. With a sharp, serrated edge, Morgane had always added silently. Ava’s riveting eyes—so deep blue they didn’t even look like a real color—were framed by sweeping, arched brows and long lashes atop high, chiseled cheekbones. She might be thin, but her face was still a study in perfection, a weapon she’d honed and used to her advantage since childhood. It would be wise to be wary of Ava. She burned too bright. She was too…violent in the way she lived. As if life was an event to be engaged, not enjoyed.
Ava had scared Morgane before Chicago. Now, though?
Now her sister seemed the perfect predator for this world. Capable, in so many ways, of taking what it had to offer. Snapping its neck and handing it right back.
Her voice a dark purr, Ava murmured, “I’m Avalon Burke. And you are?” So careful, her sister. As if she knew exactly what sort of being was standing in front of her. Yet, curiosity sparked in those exceptional eyes of hers. Curiosity and something infinitely darker.
“Pissed off.” Odin whirled back to Morgane, baring his teeth. “You brought another soul back. You fucking double-crossed me.” In truth, Morgane had been waiting for this. Bracing for it. But now, after the scrambling, messy escape, after watching her mother sacrifice herself, with some horrible vileness roiling in her sister, she discovered she simply didn’t have the strength for it.
20
“Double-crossed is a rather strong word,” Morgane began, choosing her next words carefully, walking the wide, wavering line between lies and the truth.
“I prefer…keeping my part of the bargain and getting a little extra in return.” Her eyes were cautious as she surveyed him. “I brought you back what you asked for. So what if I worked the situation to my advantage? Deal with it.” Her voice lost a bit of its bluster as she added quietly, “I never would have gotten out of there without their help and you know it.”
Queen of Swords: The Banished Gods: Book One (The Banished Gods Series 1) Page 14