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

by L. A. McGinnis

  A million hopes were wrapped up in her next word. “Please.”

  Loki stilled. For someone who had lived a life based on deception and lies, the truth seemed far too cruel. “I’m sorry, Ava. I am so sorry. What he said…”

  “No.” She was shattering, shattering and there was nothing, nothing to be done for it.

  “Ava.” Reaching out, he grasped her hands, despite the tendrils of black swirling, despite those darkening, inhuman eyes. “I know a way to save her.” Her eyes flashed back to blue. “There might be a chance we can get her back.”

  She waited, her silence a question in itself.

  “Odin killed her”—his breath caught on the words—“to trap Hel in the Underworld, as part of some deal Hel offered him. Eternal peace for this world. She stays out and keeps her little demons confined to her realm. In return for Morgane. Your sister’s soul was her asking price.”

  “No, no. None of that’s possible.” Ava’s dark hair swirled around her as she turned, paced, before spinning to face him. “Where’s her body, then? If she’s down in the Underworld, then she’s dead, right? If she’s dead, where’s her body?”

  “In my room.”

  Hoarsely, she forced the words out. “You’re lying.”

  “Gods, I wish I was. But I’m not. Do you wish to see her?”

  So many things in those dark blue eyes. Fear. Disbelief. Horror sparked, and her face paled until Loki thought he would have to catch her when she fell. But she straightened her shoulders, her gaze unwavering before demanding, “Fine. Take me to her, then.”

  Upstairs, Ava hesitated on the doorjamb for a second before sweeping into the room, drawn to the white-sheeted body on the bed. Loki watched, heart in his throat, as she stroked her sister’s smooth, dead cheek. So tenderly, it nearly broke his heart.

  “She could be alive. She looks alive.”

  Loki met her questioning look. “Mir’s magic. He’s keeping her like this. For when we get her soul out of the Underworld. So she’ll have a body to return to.” His heart was doing strange, odd things, stuttering and hurting and pounding hard, all at the same time. He had never felt so empty and full at once in his life.

  Quickly, he gave her an abbreviated rundown of the Dagda, the portal, the doorway to the Underworld. The chance they had at bringing her back. “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can do this, Ava. I know we can, all I need is to find her down there.”

  She remained silent, sending one long, last look at Morgane. He reached out a hand to her and she took it, her eyes unyielding. Together, they made for the door

  And for once, the path laid out in front of him didn’t seem like a weight to be born. It felt like a chance that was offered.

  34

  She was running out of time.

  The stones beneath her shuddered, millions of demons scrambling for escape, the walls pressing in under the immense amount of trapped souls. Morgane listened to none of it. What she could hear was the faint drip, drip, drip of her blood hitting the floor, ten feet below her body, as she hung, suspended in the chamber.

  With some effort, she squeezed air into her body. Then some more. If she died, as she had several times already, the goddess would just revive her and start all over again. She might as well save them both the effort.

  Had she known the price she would pay for killing the demons and her crack about shopping and…something else she could no longer remember, she would have kept her mouth shut.

  Then again maybe not, it was hard to tell, everything was so damn fuzzy.

  The dripping sound lessened. Her breaths came slower and slower. Her heartbeats grew fainter. She would hang on until the end. She would not break. And even through the pain, a part of her rejoiced.

  Somewhere, above her, Loki was alive. Ava too. Why Hel was using her as a pawn was still a mystery, but what she did know was somewhere in the world, people she loved would live out their lives, which was enough.

  Beneath her, she felt an incessant, unyielding tug and her entire body jerked, sending the chains jangling. As if she were connected to an anchor bigger and heavier than herself. Something far, far below her, buried deeply. Something poised to swallow her up.

  She wanted to be swallowed up. Wanted to disappear. The pain was a sharp, glinting thing upon which she rode, for hours now. It ebbed and flowed but was ever present, the quivering edge of a knife, one which Hel kept her delicately balanced upon, and she looked for any escape. Even death. Even though she knew the reprieve would only be fleeting.

  “Well, there you are, right where I left you. On the brink again. I have a special treat for you. A little send off before I send you off.” Hel’s taunting had her raising her head, just far enough that she glimpsed the shiny tips of her shoes. And the set of dirty, bare feet beside her. Morgane strained, her head coming up until her eyes took in Gwen Burke, her mother, standing right next to Hel.

  “See? I told you she’d be glad to see you.” Her mom’s eyes swamped with tears, her mouth silently mouthing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Over and over again.

  “I don’t have long, so I wanted to see if we could move this process along. Simple torture doesn’t seem to be cutting it, pardon the pun, so I thought something a bit more…creative might be called for.” With a hand, the goddess shoved Gwen down to the floor as Morgane watched, horrified, from where she was suspended.

  “I know what you’re feeling, believe it or not. I had a daughter once. A very, very long time ago. Met a human I could actually stand, for a time. He may have been a brute, but oh, we made the most beautiful baby together. Losing her…” Hel’s voice trailed off into a whisper.

  “Losing that child was the worst agony I’d ever experienced. I’ve oft wondered if that pain goes both ways?” She cocked her head up at Morgane, the movement completely inhuman.

  “Now mortal souls are eternal, reincarnated over and over again. There are a finite number of them, each one very special.” Hel’s teeth sparkled. “Unique, you might say.” Hel pressed her foot to the middle of Morgane’s mother’s back, flattened her to the floor. The chains began to clank as Morgane fought, flailing in the air, struggling to get free. To breathe.

  How had it come to this? Her mother down there, Morgane helpless to get to her, helpless…

  The woman who had raised her, held her hand from the time she was a child, held flat against that floor, Hel’s foot against her back as Morgane struggled, bucked against the iron bands holding her, even as they tore into her, even as blood ran down her arms. Gwen raised her eyes to Morgane, and smiled defiantly. A final goodbye, as well as a final order. A mother telling her daughter to fight.

  One more time.

  A reddish glow covered Hel’s fingers, spread to her hand. It was reflected in the blackness of her eyes as she looked up at Morgane. “This is hellfire. It consumes everything it touches, and it is eternally permanent. I use it sparingly because it comes with a rather high cost. But for you, Morgane darling, I’ll make an exception.”

  With a touch, Gwen Burke burst into flames, her screaming mingled with Morgane’s, and Hel stepped back and watched as both of them died.

  One to be reborn.

  One to never exist again.

  35

  Loki practically dragged Ava past the infirmary door, feeling Odin on the other side. Feeling the banked rage, the barely contained fury. The good news was, he was in there alone. The bad news?

  Soon he would be healed and when he was, both of them had best be gone.

  “Where are you taking me?” She seethed, even as her feet hurried alongside his, matching him step for step.

  “We’re going to talk to Mir. I want to run something by him, another piece to this godforsaken puzzle before we get the hell out of here. Then we find somewhere to lie low until nightfall. Somewhere you’ll be safe while I go back down to the Underworld and bring your sister home.”

  “Why Mir?”

  “Because he knows everything. And we could use the help.
”

  When they reached Mir’s office, he set her against the wall. “Wait here. Don’t move, don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”

  Shutting the door tightly behind him, he waited for Mir to turn around in his chair. When he finally did, his face unreadable, Loki said in a rush, “I need you to listen to me for a minute. Just listen, not ask any questions, just listen.”

  “Fen’s back. There’s some curse, or legend involving Morgane. The end of all worlds, the Dagda told Fenrir. Something they call the Amanna Deiridh. This legend of theirs tells of a girl who will rise from the dead, and her return precedes the rise of a dark god, one who’s going to destroy everything in his path. Supposedly she’s the key that unlocks some door between realms and unleashes this dark god. If that door opens, there’s no closing it.” He hoped Ava wasn’t out there, listening to him rehash this whole thing, which was why he was trying to keep it short and sweet.

  “Any of this sound vaguely familiar?”

  Mir spun back around in his chair, picked up a piece of paper off his desk, and held it out between two fingers. In big, bold letters, surrounded by a bunch of runic scrawls, were the words: AMANNA DEIRIDH.

  “That answer your question?”

  Loki stared hard at the paper as if he could make it disappear, even as the words ripped through him.

  “And tell Ava to get her ass in here. Odin finds her out there, she’s as good as dead.”

  “Ava, come on in.” She came, sticking close to the wall, her back to the door, eyes on Mir the whole time. “It’s okay, this is going to be okay,” Loki said, his voice even.

  Mir snorted. “You keep telling yourself that. Maybe it will actually come true.”

  Don’t, Loki thought. Don’t push her, not right now, not in this closed, tiny space. You have no idea what she’s capable of. Then again, neither do I.

  “How did you figure it out?” Ava asked softly, eyes straying to the paper on the desk, then to the expressions on their faces.

  “I’m smart like that.”

  Her gaze shifted back to the paper. “No, I mean, seriously? How did you figure it out?”

  “I was there when you and your sister were brought back, remember? I sensed what was in you, the night I met you. Like I do right now. The burns were a nice touch, Loki. I think Odin might have even bought it. But you don’t have long to get Ava out of the Tower. And even then, he’ll be coming for you. Both of you.”

  “Then tell us what you know.” Ava’s stare moved back to the paper. “Before he heals up and starts looking for us. And make it quick.”

  “I believe what’s inside you wasn’t put there by Hel. It’s something infinitely older and infinitely more dangerous. You, my dear, and somehow, your sister are key players in this.” Mir tapped the paper and sat back. “Whatever this legend is all about.”

  “How can we be players in anything having to do with you guys?” Ava wondered. “It’s impossible. We’re mortals, you’re gods, we’ve got nothing to do with the likes of you.”

  Mir met Ava’s eyes, his gaze unwavering. “Does the name MacAskill mean anything to you?”

  The question sucked the air out of the room as Ava slowly said, “My mother’s maiden name was MacAskill.” Her answer was more of a rush of breath. With her answer, Loki felt something inside of him die. He hadn’t thought to ask about the name, hadn’t even considered…

  Mir held Loki’s stare over her head, his eyes assessing. “And in Old Gaelic, MacAskill means…”

  “Sacrifice,” completed Loki, his eyes never leaving Ava’s ashen face.

  The word slammed through Loki like a physical blow. At least he hadn’t told anyone else about Fen’s sworn oath nor about the price the Dagda and the Morrigan had demanded, should Fen find the mortal bearing this name. The very name that determined her sister’s fate.

  “Except,” Ava said quietly, so the others could barely hear, “that’s not entirely true.” The words came out unclear, a bare whisper of breath.

  “What? What’re you talking about?” Mir asked sharply. “Explain.”

  “That’s only part of the name. And part of the truth.” Ava raised a face to them, tear stained but hopeful. Thoughtful, even.

  “Morgane wouldn’t know this story. Because she was younger than me, Mom never told her, and we tried to keep this from her. Because she’s got a soft heart, you know.”

  “As far as everyone knew, Mom’s maiden name was MacAskill. But my grandmother was married once before when she was very young. Before she moved to the States, back in Ireland, and that man was my true grandfather. He was a real bastard. Beat Gram so bad, she almost lost my mom. Thank God she didn’t. She left the man, divorced, came to the States and remarried.” Ava paused, her eyes wide.

  “My mother’s actual, legal maiden name is Rigan.”

  “And that word does not mean sacrifice.” A touch of awe was in Mir’s voice as he sat forward, straightening in his chair.

  “No,” Loki agreed, uncertain if this was a turn for better or worse. “It certainly does not. Rigan is a name reserved for royalty.”

  A hint of a grin crossed Mir’s face. “I called Morgane a queen, once, when I met her.” He shrugged, raising his eyes. “Queen of swords, after I saw all those scars. Little did I know…” He blew out a low whistle.

  “And Gram always used to call me her little princess,” Ava said. “It was her pet name for me.”

  “This might not change anything,” Loki cautioned her. “And it might only be a legend, we could be reading too much into it.”

  “Maybe it won’t,” Ava admitted. “But at least it’s a start. And besides, name can be everything.”

  “Still, a name is only a name. Let’s talk about what’s inside you. Can you control it?” Mir’s gaze was hard. “We can’t risk you hurting anyone by accident.”

  “Yes,” Ava said, her fingers curling into her palms. “I can do it.”

  “Are you sure? Because the reason Odin ended up in my infirmary is because he pissed you off and you lost control. He would have recovered”—Mir snapped his fingers in her face—“from Loki’s burns, in a matter of minutes. But instead, he’s kind of busy growing his bones back together. So do me a favor and describe to me what’s trapped inside you.”

  “I don’t know what it is.” Her face shuttered closed. “But it feels endless. As if I could plunge down through it and it would swallow me up. That being said, whatever’s inside me is only a small part of something bigger. Something that’s calling me, if that makes any sense. I wish I could give you more, because then, maybe, you could somehow get it out of me, but I truly don’t know.” The last word was the barest whisper.

  Mir shot Loki a sideways glance. “Just tell us, Mir. How much worse can this get?” The look on Mir’s face said do you need to know?

  “As usual, there are a million different creation stories, but a common thread to all of them is that at the start of everything, there were The Three original gods. They were the ones who separated the darkness from the light. Not an easy feat, I would think. In fact, it took everything from one of them, sucked the poor bastard dry. But the fact that gets overlooked in all of these old, dusty stories is that inside the darkness lived a god, of sorts. A god who thrived on death and emptiness and chaos. It wasn’t until he was imprisoned that life was finally able to form.”

  “This tale Fenrir came back with, the one the Dagda told him, holds certain…disturbing parallels to our own origination story.” His eyes drifted over to Ava. “Which means your current difficulties…”

  “Difficult?” Ava repeated. “You think this is difficult for me?” She shuddered, as if summoning strength she had to dig deep for. “I feel like I am trying to contain the universe inside of me. Every single second. And when it slips, when my control slips just the tiniest bit?” She narrowed her eyes. “Tell you what. Why don’t you take a long, hard look at Odin’s X-rays and tell me just how difficult his immortal bones found a little of that dark power to deal with
?”

  “Point taken.”

  “I’m beginning to see how the two might be related.” Loki cocked his head, assessing her. “If what’s inside of Ava is connected to the darkness sealed away by the first gods, what does that mean for us? How does that fit into Hel wanting Morgane’s soul?”

  “Story is, this dark god would need divine intervention to escape his prison. It needs an immortal’s assistance to open the lock that was forged by the First God. It needs one of us.”

  “Hel?”

  “What about Odin?” Mir offered. “One of the two or both of them together, who knows? But whatever they’re up to, my thoughts are, they’re close to succeeding. Too many coincidences, too many things falling into place. And I don’t fucking believe in coincidences.”

  “Yeah well, I do. Morgane and Ava are here for a reason. They’ve got to be. When Morgane and I crossed paths that night, it was fate, Mir. It was meant to be.”

  “Don’t try to twist this bullshit fairytale into whatever you need it to be,” Mir cautioned Loki. “To fit your version of the truth.”

  And what if he did? What if he needed all the pieces to fit together so it made some kind of sense?

  “What are the chances she can continue to contain this?” Mir asked, ignoring Ava completely. “Long enough for you to bring Morgane back?”

  “Hey, I’m standing right here, asshole.” Ava’s head whipped between them furiously. “Don’t act like I’m not in the room, or I’m some problem you have to resolve. Let me remind you, you people are the reason I’m here, you and Odin and Hel. Playing your little games with our lives. So don’t act like I am a fucking mess which has to be cleaned up.”

  “She’s right,” Loki said, adding, “You’re right, Ava. None of this is your fault or Morgane’s. It’s just…”

  “Can you hold it together? And for how long?” Mir asked, eyes steady. “Because if you can’t, there’s no way you should be out there in the world, unless we know we can trust you. What you did to Odin would pulverize a human. An entire crowd of humans. Not a mess I want to go out and clean up, thank you very much.”