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

by L. A. McGinnis

  “Whatever for?” Ava’s voice sounded hollow, cold as she pushed. “Why, Morgane? You should have stayed away. Stayed far enough away so none of this would ever have touched you again.”

  “Because I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. And I couldn’t live another day, knowing what I knew. I had to try to do something.” There was no way to explain the person she’d turned into, in those months after she had gone home, after she had lost them. All that rage and hate twisted up together. No place to focus it except at herself. No one to blame. Except herself. It hadn’t taken her all that long to cannibalize herself from the inside out, beginning with why she was the only one left. So yes, the day she had stepped off the plane at O’Hare, even knowing what lay ahead of her, had felt like absolution.

  Morgane lifted shadowed eyes to meet her sister’s. “Dad was dead. You and Mom were gone. So I did what I had to do to survive. Just like we’re going to do what we have to do to survive right now. These men are not friends. They are not allies. They are our enemies. Until I say different. Do you understand me?”

  “Nice speech.” Then the slight smile on Ava’s lips faded. “And yeah, I know you’re right. What about Loki?”

  “Except Loki,” Morgane amended. “He’s on our side, and he’ll help us, even with…this. But he’s one against…however many of these gods there are. So keep quiet and don’t let any of them know what’s doing with us. And for heaven’s sake, watch out for Odin. He can read minds.”

  “Morgane?” Ava leaned forward, as if she was seeking answers. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. What this is inside me. But it’s waiting. It wants out, and once it does? I have this feeling bad things are going to happen.”

  Morgane’s hands clenched beneath the sleeves of the robe before she reached out and gathered Ava in, feeling every sharp ridge of her spine. “I know, Ava. I’m going to find help, and I’m going to get us out of this.”

  Ava clung to her, shaking. “I need clothes, Morgane. Before we can do anything, I need clothes.”

  “Later. You’re going to eat first, remember?” Morgane smoothed her sister’s tangled hair back, noting how terribly thin she was. “I brought up some healthy food, which you are going to eat. After that, you’ll sleep. I’ll find you clothes this afternoon. Try to sleep, Ava, you look like you’re about to drop over.”

  Sitting back, Ava’s mouth curved upwards in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You look spectacular yourself, sis.”

  “Yeah, I’m well aware of how I look these days.” Morgane tugged the robe tighter so Ava wouldn’t see the scars. “Eat. Sleep. And shut up. I’ll be back in a bit. I’ll get us out of this.”

  She had to get downstairs. Find Loki, explain everything to him. Even the things she wasn’t that proud of, like going behind his back and making a deal with Odin. He’d know what to do. He would help her figure out a way out of this, for all of them.

  “Got it.” Ava did smile then, and it was glorious.

  25

  Morgane should have gone straight back to Loki’s room.

  She meant to go back there, her feet heading in that direction, when she somehow thought it might be a good idea to see what Mir thought about Ava’s little problem. He was, after all, the God of Knowledge. She wasn’t going to actually ask him anything specific, say, about black evil stuff stuck inside human beings.

  She only meant to poke the bear.

  See how growly he was this morning.

  In truth, it might also be because she was a little chicken shit, looking for any excuse to dodge Loki and put off the myriad of explanations and apologies she owed him. He was due a lot of both, and she was still trying to work out the right way to explain things before this situation got too out of control.

  She snorted out a laugh as she watched the grate slide open on the elevator. Out of control. As if her entire life wasn’t completely fucking out of control. Monsters. Gods. Queen of the Dead. What else could possibly go wrong?

  “Going up?”

  Odin shoved her inside, a mere five feet separating them as the elevator door rattled shut, sealing them in together. “You and I are due for a chat, Miss Burke.”

  Backing away until she was flat against the opposite mahogany panel, Morgane surveyed him cautiously. “Thought you worked this out of your system last night. You got what you wanted. I got what I wanted. Besides, for your information, I’m leaving today, and I’m taking my sister with me.” She paused, as much for effect as to watch his face, which remained impassive. “Figured that would make you happy.”

  “You leave when I say you can leave. And you and I are not done yet.”

  “Too bad. Because as far as I’m concerned, we are. Finished.”

  Her spine stiffened as an ugly smile curved his mouth, right before her whole world went black. One minute, she saw the glowing, amber lights of the elevator, the next? Her vision was dark and spinning, exactly like when he’d sent her down to…

  No, she screamed inside, no, no, no.

  A flash of light, and she found herself face first on the floor of the Throne Room. Footsteps around her, beside her, and finally his boots stopped in front of her face while she heaved herself up. She didn’t make it to her knees before she was jerked up the rest of the way, dangling helplessly in the air, staring into silver-white eyes emptied of any trace of empathy.

  “You double crossed me, as I mentioned before.” He went on casually, as if she hadn’t just been yanked through time and space and was completely at his mercy. “You should have done as you were told and not presumed to take liberties with my good will. And now look at you, with no one swooping in to protect you. Not even the God of Fire anywhere in sight.” She flailed about, feet kicking nothing but air as she heard the hiss of metal drawn against leather. “Now, I’m afraid, you are going to find out exactly what happens to those who betray me.”

  She kicked, harder and harder, twisting in his hand, frantically searching for the source of the ominous, metallic hiss, for his other hand. What is in his other hand? What is that sound?

  The knife he plunged into her heart went through her chest completely. A single blow, so swift and so ruthless she swore the tip punched out through her back. The agony of it, metal through flesh, tore her apart while Odin’s lips feathered her ear, leaving his final words echoing through her,

  “Tell Hel, when you see her, I’ve kept my end of the deal. We came up with an arrangement, you see. One that ensures this world remains mine. Forever. Unfortunately, you were the asking price. For this, I am truly sorry. Goodbye, Miss Burke.”

  26

  Sounds. There were so many sounds then.

  Screaming. Shouting.

  Everything after that moment became a mix of things happening very quickly, and things happening very, very slowly. Morgane felt Loki’s hands under her shoulders as she was turned, tasting the coppery tang of blood, perceived the slickness of it soaking the floor beneath her. Words blurred, fuzzy words hovered in the air above her as she tried, really tried to focus on Loki’s face. But he swam in and out, even his intense, penetrating eyes fading away.

  His hands lightened their grasp, but then there was another pair, heavier and warmer, tinged with magic. She knew it was Mir and he was doing his damnedest to see her through this too.

  But her chest was too tight, hurt too bad, the deep, gasping breaths she tried to draw wouldn’t come, and the blood soaked through and through. It was everywhere, until it seemed she was floating in a sea of red.

  Then Morgane didn’t feel the hands moving her, didn’t feel herself being lifted. And at the very end, she didn’t see a thing as her world went black for the final time.

  Odin had vanished into nothingness, in the seconds when Morgane’s body was still crumpling to the ground, while Loki and Mir rushed in, after hearing her initial scream of agony.

  After that, the moments had stretched out, impossibly long and impossibly short at the same time as they’d fought to save her.

  When
they failed, Loki had followed behind Mir as he carried her upstairs. Laid her down on Loki’s bed, looking for all the world like one of her angels, or one of their goddesses, her face porcelain-white but not at all peaceful. Mir covered her with a shimmer of his magic until a blush bloomed again into her cheeks and her lips flushed pink.

  “That’s all I can do for now, she’ll stay in stasis for a day, maybe two.” Loki hadn’t answered any questions or sensed the hands laid on his shoulders before the rest of the gods departed. Grief was whispering to him even now, telling him he never should have left her alone.

  As it was, he had sat and stared at her face for what had seemed days.

  Willing her to move. To sit up. To smile. Before giving in and covering her face with a sheet. Somewhere, during those hours, his grief honed itself into hatred. It grew into a banked flame, growing sharper, hungrier. And now, somehow, his feet had brought him back to the chamber dominated at one end by Odin, the All Father, who had maneuvered them all to this moment.

  Where Morgane was dead and nothing else seemed to matter.

  All he wished was to burn this place to ash. Tyr and Mir, Freyr and Thor, all of them stepped back when he passed, as if the inferno smoldering inside of him would sear them as he stalked to where Odin sat, waiting on his dais.

  “Well, well, well, it’s about time. I thought you’d sit up there forever.” Odin’s silvery eyes narrowed down to slits. “Mourning your mortal woman.” He clicked his tongue. “You never deserved her anyway.”

  Loki’s eyes strayed to the pool of dark, congealed blood still staining the floor in front of the throne. Measured the strength of the wall of magic shimmering between him and Odin. “Careful, Odin. Speak her name once more and see what happens.”

  The god waved a lazy hand in the air. “She shouldn’t have defied me. She should have done as she was told.” His breathing uneven, Loki managed another step before he was halted by the powerful wall of icy magic.

  “It wasn’t enough for you to send her down there to do your dirty work, was it? You hated the fact she beat you at your own game.” Blue eyes met icy silver, and the air turned so cold Loki’s skin frosted over, but inside, oh, inside he burned. Hotter than ever before, as if he would burn himself up, just to get his hands around Odin’s throat.

  Never breaking their stare, he gathered his magic and blew straight through Odin’s shield, thundered up the steps until he loomed over his father, taking in Odin’s shock and disbelief. Then somehow, he noticed his hands were wrapped around Odin’s not insubstantial neck. Hands were yanking on his shoulders, his arms, pulling so fiercely everything was moving.

  Him, Odin, the throne. Not that it mattered.

  Morgane was dead.

  The fact Odin’s eyes were bulging out of his face only meant Loki’s words were the last thing he would hear before his neck snapped. Good. “You wanted her to end up down there, didn’t you?” Questions came faster and faster, driven by rage, loss, insanity. “Before I break your neck and burn you to ash, tell me why? Why the fuck did you do it? Why did you take her from me?”

  It finally occurred to him to loosen his hands enough so Odin could wheeze out a word. Or two. Three seemed a tad generous. “Deal…Hel…”

  The thud of Odin’s body hitting the floor echoed through the chamber as sheer disbelief sent him stumbling away. “A deal?” His words rang hollow against the cold marble. “What could possibly be worth killing Morgane? What could she have possibly offered you?” The moment their eyes met, he saw everything so clearly.

  The taunting, the bargain, the audience gathered around them.

  Odin wanted to die today.

  Meant for it to end it like this, with his blood coating Loki’s hands. Murdered in his Throne Room while the others watched. Which, of course, was why they were all here. He’d play the part of villain again, Morgane would remain in the Underworld, and Odin would be freed from this miserable existence. He’d become Odin’s puppet, doing his dirty work, giving him exactly what he wanted. His temper cooled a bit at the revelation. Even though his hands itched to wrap themselves around the bastard’s throat again.

  Drawing a breath, he stalked away from all of them. Away from the truth he’d just glimpsed in Odin’s silver eyes. Away from the death Odin craved so badly. Before he capitulated and gave Odin exactly what he wanted. Had almost allowed himself to be maneuvered into killing him, had he not realized the truth at the last possible moment.

  The doors grew bigger and taller, beckoning, a gateway out of here, but Odin’s voice, raspy and wet, stopped him before he made it. No longer a king’s voice. A beggar’s voice crackling with loathing. “Turn around. Turn around and come back here and do it. Just fucking do it.”

  There was a second when he almost did. Balder stepped in to block his way. Another few steps toward freedom before that voice again stopped him again, dead in his tracks.

  “Don’t you even want to know what I got in return? For your lover’s life?” Every single word was a taunt.

  “No.” Morgane was dead. Nothing would bring her back.

  “Don’t you even want to know how much Morgane was worth?”

  Loki turned, a small, dead smile on his lips. “Not from you. Never from you. Say her name one more time and I will rip your head from your body. But I won’t do it here, in front of an audience, because that’s exactly what you want. I’ll do it my way, and I’ll make sure you disappear. There’ll be no final resting place for you. Not ever.”

  Pressing his palms to the double doors, Loki blew them open, crossed the threshold, and vanished.

  Fenrir was waiting for him in his chamber, staring down at Morgane’s white-sheeted body.

  “I am sorry, Father.”

  A shadow of pain, pain so deep it reverberated through his bones, echoed through Loki. As if he had lost something intrinsic to his very existence. He thought how strange, that in a few short weeks, she had somehow become so important everything else ceased to exist at the same moment she had.

  Loki closed his eyes. How strange, too, Odin was now his enemy.

  “We brought her out once before,” Fen reminded him, his voice soft.

  Loki glanced up at the ceiling as if the answers were there. “Yes, we did. With a protection spell of Odin’s, and Balder’s help. With her mortal body intact here on Earth. As part of an agreement in which she was a willing participant.” He stared out the window, if only to stop looking at her body. “This was payment, Fen. Odin killed her and sent her down there to complete a pact with the Goddess of Death. I cannot undo this. I don’t believe anyone can.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter why.”

  “It does and you know it. Or were you too pissed off for him to give you an explanation?”

  “You mean lie to my face?”

  “I mean explain to you why.” Fen rubbed his eyes. “I know he’s an asshole, we can all agree. But he wouldn’t have killed her—”

  “He did kill her.”

  “He wouldn’t have killed her, not like he did, without a damn good reason. What was it?” Fen had a stubborn set to his jaw, which meant he’d only argue until he got his way.

  Loki stared vacantly out the window. “He wants me to kill him. To end this existence for him.”

  “Well, we all get like that at one time or another. Can’t say I much blame him. Surely, he pushed you hard enough you’d have done it.” Contemplatively, Fen stared down at Morgane’s body. “But he didn’t kill her just so you’d kill him in return. There has to be more to it.”

  “I can’t lose her, Fen.”

  “What if you don’t have to?”

  Loki shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s too late.” He couldn’t live like this, as if death would be a blessed relief.

  He looked at his son helplessly. “I’d given up on everything. And then I found her. I thought we’d have forever. Years, at least. But we only had a week. We had a week, and I never knew how short that was.
The blink of an eye. But this grief will never end.”

  “And you loved her?” There was a touch of envy in Fen’s question, as he fingered the thick, silver chain around his neck. Gods didn’t fall in love with mortals. For good reason. Their lives were messy and short and fraught with problems. They had all learned that lesson long ago.

  “Yes. I loved her,” Loki answered, his voice hoarse, tracing the edge of the sheet covering her. “But it wasn’t long enough… It wasn’t long enough to matter. Not really.”

  “It was long enough to matter. And it doesn’t have to end. Not like this.”

  But it had ended.

  She was gone and he was stuck here, trapped in this moment, this world. This time.

  From the beginning, from that very first night, he’d felt this overriding compulsion to be with her. He, who had endured centuries alone. But now time seemed stretched out before him, an endless sea, no horizon in sight, no destination waiting for his eventual arrival. And unlike before, he found himself unwilling to take another step forward.

  “We could go get her,” Fen suggested gently.

  The words penetrated the outer edge of his stupor. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”

  “She’s not part of this. Which means normal rules of magic don’t apply.”

  Except she was. Something told him she was part of this. Something told him they had both been played. By Odin. By Hel. By the circumstances. Somehow, this had been a setup and now Morgane was trapped now. He needed an advantage. Anything to use against Hel. Against Odin. Against this fucking world that thought it could take her away from him.

  “The longer you delay, the less chance we have of getting her back,” Fen reminded him. Alive. The word Fen left out was alive. Their eyes met. And Loki saw genuine compassion in them. “You need to go back and listen to Odin’s side. Let him tell you his reasons. Perhaps we can find a way?”