Hammer of the Gods

by B. D. MacCallum

  Thor held out his hand, praying that time was a long way off.

  Martin LeMay –Sorry. Sean Donovan – smiled at Thor, then placed Sorina’s hand in his. The man appeared ready to feint. The way he was shaking, you would think this was his wedding.

  Thor’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he began to sweat. He took a deep breath, catching a glimpse of Bryndis smiling and shaking her head. He turned to Sorina. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Sorina cocked an eyebrow, twisting her Lucius lips into a half-smile. “Try to stop me,” she said with a soft laugh.

  “I don’t believe you could, Brother,” Felix whispered in his ear, giving him a firm pat on the back.

  They turned to face a white-haired gypsy woman in brightly colored clothes, old enough to have heard first-hand accounts of the exodus from Egypt.

  The old woman’s eyes twinkled as her face lit up with a broad smile. She inclined her head to Thor and Sorina, then turned her attention to the five hundred seated guests. “Ladies and gentlemen: we are gathered here on this beautiful day, to join these two blessed souls in wedded bliss.”

  She continued on with an unconventional, unscripted ceremony, filled with stories and fables casting doubt on the legitimacy of her credentials. That was before she read aloud her critiqued version of the vows Sorina and Thor wrote for each other. To be honest, I liked her version of mine, better!

  From the smile on Sorina’s face, she felt the same about hers.

  Mio lumbered toward the altar on cue, bearing the rings in a wicker basket held in his mouth. He even provided plenty of drool for lubrication, so the rings would slide on easier. Then the dog leaned his body against Sorina’s leg until she scratched him behind the ears. Traitor!

  “I am sure no one here has just cause why these two should not be bound together.” The old woman scanned the guests, as if daring any of them to speak. “Good!” she said with a smile. “I pronounce you wed… kiss her, son; the food is growing cold and the drink warm.”

  Thor took Sorina in his arms, kissing her with every ounce of passion he felt, to the sounds cheers so loud the island shook.

  The old woman embraced Sorina. When she backed away, Sorina stared at her, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

  The old woman wrapped her arms around Thor’s neck. “Tell me, Thor son of Baldur, have you guessed my name?”

  “Freyja,” Thor whispered in her ear. “Does Jorick know I’ve done what you tried so desperately to get him to do?”

  “With his gratitude.” The old woman backed away, smiling. “You have mine, as well, young warrior.” She disappeared into the crowd. Thor tried to find her later, but no one seemed to know where she had gone, or even remembering seeing her leave.

  “What did she say to you?” Thor asked Sorina.

  Sorina tried to compose herself. “She said my father was proud of me. And to hold on tight, we are in for one wild adventure after another. What did she say to you?”

  Thor kissed her, then smiled. “Pretty much the same.”

  A strawberry-blonde woman wove her way through the crowd, aided by an intricately-carved cane as she limped up to the newlyweds. “Congratulations,” she said, giving Thor and Sorina a one-armed hug. “You have a good man, Sorina Lazarovici.” She gave Thor a glance, a twinkle in her eyes, “Even if he is an ostentatious flirt.”

  “I hope that never changes.” Sorina laughed softly. “That’s how we got this venue on such short notice… I’m glad you could make it, Tilde,” Sorina said with a smile. The two women hit it off, ever since the day Tilde was spirited out of the hospital; one very short step ahead of the police coming to arrest her.

  “As am I,” Thor added. “How’s the leg?”

  “Better,” Tilde replied with a shrug. “Another month or so, I get to lose the cane. Then the Doctor says the fun begins.”

  “Fun?” Thor asked.

  Tilde nodded. “I have to get in shape. I’ve decided to take Dylah Stigg’s job offer.”

  Thor stared incredulous. “Huh…”

  By late afternoon, the dinner had been eaten, the speeches spoken, and the cake large enough to feed the world cut. Then, as the sun drifted lazily toward the sea, Felix announced the bar open, and the real celebration begun.

  All eyes were on Thor and Sorina as they moved to the dance floor; with plenty of jostling for position to get better views. Julia and Selucca stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing at the couple, beaming with pride. Thor took Sorina in his arms, gazed deep into her eyes, then nodded to fat tony.

  While the spotlight followed their flowing movements, Else stood on the sideline, translating the words to the song Lieb ist to the other girls, as tears streamed from their eyes. Why do women always cry at wedding? It’s supposed to be a joyful event!

  The song ended, and Thor held Sorina.

  Not for long, though.

  The girls rushed onto the floor, pried Sorina from his arms, and surrounded her as Iona strode up to him. The way the girls were fussing and fretting around Sorina, you would think they were fighting over the last piece of cake. The look in Iona’s eyes, as she sauntered ever-so-slowly toward Thor, was completely unnerving.

  Her eyes glittered, and she wore a mischievous grin. “Two things, Thor Odinsson: I’m collecting my promise, and giving you a gift.”

  Thor stared into Iona’s eyes. After nine years of waiting, you want to cash that chip in, today? “The promise?” his voice was calm, but he was ready to kick Iona’s rump so hard, she would be able to speak again.

  Her finger darted out to point in his face, as if able to read his mind, before she flashed: “Never do something so stupid as to leave her, to try to keep her safe!” She punctuated her words with a stare that could freeze water, then crack it to dust.

  Thor swallowed hard, then nodded. “The gift?”

  Iona’s face broke into a wide smile. She kissed Thor’s cheek, then gestured to the circle of women.

  The girls glanced at Thor and retreated to the side of the dance floor, taking a full two-thirds of Sorina’s dress with them. Selucca gasped, but Julia laughed loudly; probably thinking her prudish.

  Sorina flashed a devilish grin, her hands on her hips, wearing just enough not to get ejected from a club. Thor’s eyes popped from his skull, and every man in sight whistled and howled as loud as he could; Felix the loudest, stamping his feet on the wooden floor.

  Sorina sauntered toward him, her hips swaying her shoulders dipping with well-practiced movements. Oh, Iona, you nasty, nasty girl. THANK YOU!!! Sorina grew closer. Her fingers flashed, five… two… five – follow my lead. That was not going to be a problem; Thor would follow the woman to the ends of the Earth! Then Sorina held her hand out to Thor, pulling him close to her as he grasped hold. She flashed a quick glance at Fat Tony.

  “Yes, ma’am!” the bony man said into the microphone. A second later, You Sexy Thing was thumping through the speakers, and the howls grew to a furious pitch.

  Iona had taught Sorina a watered-down, less X-rated version of the dance they did at club Kepolo… but not much less. Thor was more than happy to follow Sorina’s lead; giving the woman her moment. Anywhere she goes!

  The sun was sinking in red sky. A warm breeze carried the sounds of the joyous raucous far and wide. The celebration would continue throughout the night – Felix would see to that – making the evening one that would be talked about on the island for years to come. It had, however, been a long day, and Thor wanted to be alone with Sorina more than anything else in the world.

  “Try not to get arrested,” Thor said with a laugh.

  “You sound just like Mama!” Felix embraced Thor with a spine-crushing hug. He kissed Sorina on the cheek. “Don’t wear him out too much. He promised me we’d go fishing in a month.”

  Sorina patted Felix on the shoulder, giving the man a wink. “I can’t make that promise,” she said with a grin.

  It took nearly an hour longer for Thor and Sorina to escape the party; only able to du
ck away under a diversion from Nwabudike and the rest of the crew.

  “Run, you two. Save yourselves,” Nwabudike said with a chuckle that seemed as natural as anything Thor had ever heard. “I don’t know how long we can hold them off.” His face lit up with a warm smile as Sorina kissed his cheek.

  “Thanks for everything, my friend,” Thor said, embracing the Nigerian captain.

  “Sworn enemies, to the bitter end,” Nwabudike said, voice quivering, clapping Thor on the back.

  They rushed down the dock, their hands gripped tightly, to the water taxi that would take them to Mjölnir. He promised to show Sorina the world, and would give it to her if she asked, but tonight, he was looking forward to having her all to himself. He smiled, seeing the small fleet of guard ships to make sure they were not disturbed: Julia’s wedding gift.

  Chapter 50

  A Long Awaited Entry

  Bryndis Angantýrsdóttir stood on the wooden dock, worn boards creaking with the crashing surf, listening to the ship’s crew sing: Ride Captain Ride, as Mjölnir set sail. Her heart filled with a mother’s pride, as the man she helped to raise was leaving with his own bride. She wiped away a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. She had never had a son of her own, but the thought of raising a child like Thor Odinsson from infancy made her damned grateful for it. I’d be a gray-haired old hag by now!

  She knew this wasn’t the end of their journey together, only a brief respite. The world wasn’t through demanding of Thor Odinsson, and she had sworn to protect him. This time she wouldn’t be alone. She never really was, though, was she? There had been many, if only she had paid better attention she would have seen that sooner.

  The cool breeze made her shiver, and Martin LeMay – She refused to call him by that ridiculous name Thor arranged for him, probably meant as some sort of joke. – placed his jacket over her shoulders, his arm remaining… for added warmth.

  “He’ll be fine,” Martin said quietly. “Sorina’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  Bryndis rested her head against his shoulder. “It’s not him I’m worried about.”

  “You don’t think he’d hurt Sorina?” His voice held a tone, the subtlest implication that she may have lost her mind.

  “Oh, Gods no!” Bryndis replied, patting his hand gently.

  “Then… who?”

  The sounds of footsteps grew louder as Dylah Stigg approached with a lean, dark-haired man with dark eyes that made Bryndis nervous. Mikki often accused Nwabudike Adeyemi of being Death incarnate; Bryndis wondered what she would say about this man? His gaze left Bryndis feeling stripped bare to her soul, making her shift unconsciously closer to Martin LeMay.

  “I think we’re about to find out,” Bryndis whispered half to herself.

  “Bryndis Angantýrsdóttir, Martin LeMay,” Dylah said gruffly. “This is Lucia.” The man inclined his head and smiled; Bryndis was half-surprised not to see long fangs.

  “You’ve eradicated the rest of the Ahnenerbe since the day before yesterday?” Martin asked warily.

  “Not quite, sir,” Lucia said sharply. “But, in my endeavor to do so, I’ve discovered who murdered Thor Odinsson’s parents, and one hundred, eight people, when he ordered flight 696 shot out of the sky.

  Bryndis’ hand shot to her mouth. “It wasn’t an accident?”

  “No ma’am,” Lucia replied. “Gregory Shuman ordered the plane destroyed.”

  “The CEO of Phalanx Pharmaceuticals?” Martin snapped, incredulous.

  “The very one,” Lucia said evenly.

  Bryndis started to hyperventilate. “Thor will kill him,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “Interesting you would say that,” Lucia said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Gregory Shuman disappeared eighteen hours ago; last seen with these two. I took the photo myself.” He handed Martin the phone. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. There were no other witnesses.”

  Bryndis scanned the image of a tall, black-haired woman and taller man, both dressed in tailored suits, flanking a man that seemed very nervous. “Gods!” Bryndis exclaimed. “That’s Thor and Sorina!”

  Martin kissed her cheek. “How could it be? They’ve been on this island for an entire week… with five hundred witnesses.” He laughed. He looked Lucia in the eye. “Anything important on here?” The other man shook his head, then Martin dropped the phone to the deck, crushing it with the heel of his shoe.

  Bryndis was not sure, but it sounded like he added something under his breath, before laughing so hard tears welled up in his eyes: “What you can prove to be true.” She had no idea what it meant, but she had every intention of finding out. One man like Thor Odinsson in her life was more than enough.

  * * *

  Chelsea sat on a rock by the slow running stream, tossing bits of meal to a pair of tout, awaiting news of her sentence. She glanced over her shoulder; Odin, Freyja, Iðunn and Hlaðguðr Svanhvit were still deliberating. If she were to be thrown out of Fólkvangr, Chelsea wished they would hurry and just get it over with.

  The trout swam away lazily, and Chelsea could not blame them, the bread tasted like Sun-crusted dog shit. Not really; the bread was as delicious as ever. It was just nothing was setting well on her stomach, a problem she had never had to deal with in Fólkvangr before this morning.

  “The trouble with making such binding laws,” Odin said quietly over her shoulder, “they bind you as well. Know that I fought as hard as I could for you, child.”

  Chelsea stood, turned to face Odin, then surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.”

  Odin glanced at the approaching Freyja, his face an odd mixture of emotions. “I wish only, that I could have done more.” He strode away without another glance at Chelsea, then disappeared into the trees.

  “Walk with me, child,” Freyja said, then held out her hand.

  Chelsea slipped her hand into the Goddess’ palm, matching her stride for stride. “It’s bad, isn’t it?’

  “That depends on the way you look at it,” Freyja replied, staring forward. “Odin could not confess knowledge of your… exploits, and I simply would not. Hlaðguðr Svanhvit exorcised her right to silence. However, Iðunn knows you were the apple thief. That, alone, is enough to get you exiled.”

  Chelsea sighed. “I understand.”

  “You are about to.” The Goddess smiled at Chelsea. “My daughter is entitled to Iðunn’s apples, and may give them to whom she sees fit.”

  Chelsea’s brow furrowed. “Daughter?”

  Freyja nodded. “I have just recently adopted her: a remarkable girl, with cunning that pales Loki’s a thousand fold.” Freyja laughed as Chelsea’s jaw dropped open. “It was the least I could do for the girl that forestalled Ragnarok for longer than even the Allfather can see.”

  “How is Mikki doing?” Chelsea asked with a slight smile.

  The Goddess snorted loudly. “When she is not tormenting Hróðvitnir, or checking his tether, she is teaching the ancient warriors new skills.”

  “It’ll keep her out of trouble… for a while, at least.” Her gaze fell squarely on Freyja. “Odin agreed to all of it?”

  “Just as you said he would,” the Goddess replied with a smirk, “eight warriors of my choosing, and one to be named, later. Though I admit, when he offered me fifty for Mikki, I nearly wavered.”

  “You will thank me, I promise.” Chelsea smiled a sad smile.

  Freyja’s brow furrowed. “How did you know Odin would agree?”

  Chelsea thought back to a time, not long after she died. Grandpa Vali and Grandma Julia were sitting across a senator’s desk, showing him images of their handiwork in Africa, and promising to do worse to his son, if the charges against Felix weren’t dropped. She smiled at Freyja. “Because, no matter how hard someone tries, they’ll never change who they really are.”

  The Goddess sighed. “I am losing eight warriors, am I not?”

  Chelsea never made eye-contact.
“All nine, actually.”

  “Already, I know the problems of a mother, it seems.”

  They stopped beside a gazebo Chelsea had never seen before, not very large, and covered in white silk drapes.

  “A gift for my daughter,” Freyja said with a flourish. “When you wish, visit me, and we shall have a delightful feast.” Freyja turned, walking away slowly, humming a cheerful tune.

  Chelsea slipped past the silk drapes. A large bed covered in fine linen sheets filled most of the space. Chelsea stared a moment before she realized, she could not sense the endless possibilities of the universe. She wasted no time, diving onto the bed and resting her head on the softest pillow she had ever felt.

  I’m going to sleep for the next thousand years!

  * * *

  Iona read the gauges one final time before leaving the engine room. She made her way to the main deck, breathed in the warm air, and closed her eyes, facing the sun. Her head felt thick and filled with tiny beings trying to force their way out through her eyes and ears. Felix had thrown one hell of a party, and she was in desperate need of sleep… and a bottle of aspirin.

  She glanced up at the windows of Thor’s cabin before making her way to her own. A few of the Bahamian Coast Guard joked about the noise coming from the ship all night, and that it made its own waves, but Iona honestly expected nothing less from Thor and Sorina. Hell, with the way those two had trouble keeping their hands off each other, she’d be surprised if they weren’t going at it like rabbits again, this morning.

  Iona closed the door behind her, sat on the side of her bed, and pulled her old diary from the night stand. She thumbed through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

  I dreamt I was a broken doll, and I cried. Then a man with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen offered to help me. “Trust me,” he said, and I grasped the hand he held out to me as tightly as I could. But I knew deep inside that I could never be fixed. The man tried. Oh, god, how the man tried. I tried to help the man, but I didn’t have the power to take the sadness from his eyes. I felt horrible that I couldn’t help the man that had helped me so much.