Asgard Awakening 2

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Asgard Awakening 2 Page 14

by Blaise Corvin


  “But he is human! Even if he has some magic power, they are no match for Kin, especially—”

  “Ereshka, stop being a fool and look at Yaakova.”

  The guard did as her leader said, and took a step back. Trav glanced over too. Yaakova’s feathers were on end, but she was grinning, barely holding in her glee. The fact that she was not worried in the slightest about Trav’s safety was obvious.

  “Get to the rear of the procession,” ordered the guard leader, and Ereshka slunk back with one last spite-filled look at Trav. He wiggled his nose at her, insulting her while not directly challenging or disrespecting her.

  Trav couldn’t afford to show even a tiny bit of weakness in this place. Even Yaakova had kept secrets from most of her harpy brethren. From what she’d told Trav, only her little sister knew she could transform. In fact, demonstrating her ability in private had been what finally convinced her sister to help.

  Their group tromped down the opulent hallways toward a huge, carved wooden door. Trav noticed the hidden sigils and other magical protections through the door and the adjacent walls and assumed that this must be the guideroom. When the group kept moving towards it, he knew he’d guessed right.

  He took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold. The next few minutes would be very important. Hopefully he’d stacked the deck enough in his favor. To one side, Ysintrill touched his arm, and the signal was clear—his valkyries had his back.

  Trav smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world. First appearances would always be important. If the surrounding guards were wondering how a human could be so worry-free while completely unarmed and surrounded, well, they didn’t know he could call Hex with a thought.

  Chapter 15

  The room was somewhat dark, very old-looking, and entirely made of stone. Trav wasn’t sure why harpies seemed to build all of their most important structures with stone. He decided it was probably as much about a sign of wealth as for defensive abilities.

  A harpy woman with similar plumage as Yaakova sat in a dark throne against the far wall—strange pink torches stood to the sides. Trav did a double take as he realized that the torches were actually some sort of magic lamp. Similar lamps, but white, not pink, lined the walls where they joined the ceiling.

  The harpy on the throne had to be Yaakova’s younger sister, Hravalin. She wore an ornate headdress with the colors of the Mist family, and as best as Trav could tell she looked like she was in her early twenties. She had a very voluptuous figure, but wore much more modest clothing than Yaakova usually did.

  Harpy guards, some wearing the colors of the Mist family, and some from the royal tree, were stationed around the room. Kin servants wearing Mist family livery stood in waiting, and Trav’s eyes narrowed as he noticed a few human slaves. Most looked well fed and didn’t have any visible wounds. Trav let his eyes move back to Hravalin.

  An old harpy wearing an ornate robe called out, “Mistress Yaakova and companions, you are in the presence of the East Family Guide, Hravalin Mishakdatter. All bow!”

  Trav’s pulse sped up. This was it, the time to make his move. If he just bowed here, tried to blend in, he wasn’t sure what would happen, but his group would be split up and he refused to lose Yaakova. He hoped that the two bars of power he’d sunk into improved reflexes and durability would be enough. Right before handing over Hex, he’d used his shiv to activate the buffs.

  So when the others in the room bowed, Trav remained standing. He kept his face impassive, not showing any aggression or hostility and met Hravalin’s eyes. The old harpy in the robe frowned. “Why aren’t you bowing, human?”

  “I don’t see why I should. I am not a part of this kingdom, and I am at least peers with the Guide.”

  The entire room collectively exploded into harpy anger. Trav would have expected this reaction even if Yaakova hadn’t predicted it. Turning the room against him was going to make his play harder, but it was also necessary to establish the pecking order—or at least that he was not part of theirs.

  A harpy guard growled, “How dare a slave—”

  Other guards and harpies began shouting, some stalking forward. Hravalin still hadn’t moved—she just stared at Trav.

  The valkyries moved around him in a protective circle, and Trav knew Narnaste was about a hair away from turning into a giant wolf. The room would be big enough for her to do so, but if she attacked seriously, it would start a fight Trav didn’t want. He hoped she controlled herself.

  Yaakova was actually the best visual deterrent, stopping some of the harpies from advancing. She’d had a dangerous reputation even before leaving her home, but now she positively dripped menace and power. Yaakova hardened her feathers, and the razor-sharp blades gleamed in the light.

  Trav extended a finger, drawing a single glyph in the air and thundered, “Shut the fuck up!” It was time to make a power play. Other Restless would doubtlessly show up to Asgard since there was such a high concentration of Restless here already, and Trav still remembered the demonic thing he’d encountered through the veil back in the witch caves. That thing might have alerted its friends too.

  It was time to be bold now, time to take risks.

  The older harpy in the robe was shaking, showing all of her teeth. “You apologize on your—”

  “Apologize?” thundered Trav. He pointed to Hravalin but felt a little guilty as he did. He was about to throw Yaakova’s sister under the bus. “The entire procession that just got back, Bravoosa’s Pinions, was dispatched to find and return with me! That was one third of your family’s military force, right? I was their mission!” He paused, and kept his voice amplification magic on as he asked, “Who are you anyway, Grandmother?”

  The older harpy began to make a grating sound, like she was so angry she’d stopped functioning. Meanwhile, the rest of the room quieted to watch. To his side, Yaakova said softly, but loud enough to be heard around the room, “Her name is Ursha, Master. She is one of my sister’s ministers, an elder of the Mist family.”

  Trav heard the confusion in the whispers around the room. “‘Master?’ Did Yaakova really just call him ‘Master?’” He silently thanked his harpy valkyrie and vowed to do something nice for her later. She didn’t usually call him Master, and only had now because he’d asked her to back in Najila’s old workshop. Luckily, she hadn’t been too difficult to convince. Trav wasn’t just fighting for himself and his family on Asgard—this was about saving Yaakova’s family and maybe even her entire tribe.

  If the North or South tribe absorbed the East tribe, the East harpies would not be treated well, and most would no longer be allowed to breed. In fact, this was how the West family was destroyed a hundred years ago.

  This entire plan had hinged on a few things, including their group being summoned to the guideroom as soon as they’d returned. Yaakova had predicted it—her sister would want to make sure that Yaakova didn’t run off or disappear without honoring her promise. She’d been willing to give her older half sister a chance, but likely didn’t actually believe that Trav was a High Master.

  It was time to change that, and if not, at least get the entire East Tribe talking about Trav.

  Trav was still pointing at Hravalin. “The Mist family is weak, and the East Tribe faces destruction even as the five families squabble. I have arrived to help the Mist Tribe and Hravalin Mishakdatter win the royal tree!”

  “Heresy!” screamed a guard.

  Ursha held up one gnarled, clawed hand, calling for silence. Yaakova growled low in her throat, holding angry guards at bay. The old minister’s voice was strangled, like she was half enraged, half aghast. “Are you moon-touched, human? Who are you, a slave, to say such shameless things?”

  Trav couldn’t have asked for a more perfect way to make his announcement and mentally thanked the angry old harpy. He drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and with all the public speaking skill he could gather from Odin’s memories, he announced, “I am a High Master, the Allfather reborn! In fact, rather than
a High Master, think of me as a Reborn Master! I have arrived, and I will bend Asgard to my will!” Trav had thought the speech sounded corny as he’d planned it, but also seemed like something a god would say. As it turned out, none of the harpies thought it sounded goofy at all.

  The entire room erupted.

  Behind him, Captain Bravoosa yelled, “What is going on? Yaakova, did you know about this?”

  “Of course I did! Now guard Trav!” snarled Yaakova.

  Ysintrill was unarmed, but had already put a harpy down on the floor. The feathered Kin gasped for air after the dark valkyrie had kicked her in the throat. As other harpies attacked, Ysintrill bobbed, weaved, and turned her body to smoke in order to avoid being clawed to ribbons. Her fighting style was as brilliant and savage as it was elegant, but she was still being pushed back.

  Trav cursed. He really couldn’t afford to use his power here. Killing Yaakova’s people would ruin his plan and truly make him an enemy. If he went down that road, it’d be something he couldn’t take back, couldn’t do over. Trav made a quick judgement call and reversed his earlier order, calling out, “Narnaste, change forms!”

  The room went from a melee of confused and enraged harpies, trying to reach Trav to tear him apart, to being dominated by an enormous red wolf. When Narnaste growled, the very stone in the floor seemed to vibrate.

  Trav crawled up her fur until he was on Narnaste’s back. She was so tall that even with the huge size of the room, Trav couldn’t sit up straight. Cries of fear rang around the room as the harpies tried to get away from Narnaste. A few threw magical attacks, or shot arrows at Trav, but Narnaste easily blocked them with her shoulders. Trav winced as the hide on one side of the huge wolf smoked.

  He still had his voice amplification glyph active but before he could speak, Hravalin beat him to it. The chair she was sitting in might have had an amplification effect too, or she’d used some sort of magic of her own because Trav could hear her clearly. “Stand down!” she ordered. Then she snapped and enhanced the sound. The sharp crack got everyone’s attention.

  Trav thought it was a cool trick and switched his vision to one band of a magical spectrum, using his emberstone eye in particular. As soon as his vision shifted, he squinted.

  There was another figure standing near Hravalin, more like a shadow, but Trav could see her. The figure was entirely invisible to his normal vision.

  “Since this is a Mist family matter, and everyone here is Mist family or trusted, we will discuss this openly.” Hravalin flayed the harpies inside with her eyes. “Everyone will stay silent and listen while I speak to this human.”

  Trav was very impressed. Despite being so young, Hravalin spoke very well. She’d taken the best path to save face and make it seem like she was in complete control. As Trav studied her, his magic sight turned up evidence that she had a lot of power too—likely about the same as Yaakova when Trav had first met her.

  “But Guide—” began Ursha.

  Hravalin didn’t back down. She held out a hand. “Silence.” Her expression softened. “You are very wise, and you have served several guides well, Ursha, but this is something new. I am the guide for our tribe, so this is my responsibility. I want to hear what the human has to say.”

  “So be it.”

  Hravalin stood. “Human, call off your wolf. Let us talk.”

  Trav slid down Narnaste’s back and ordered, “Stay back please, Narn.” He walked forward until he was about halfway across the room and the guards pointed weapons at him, not-so-subtly telling him to stay in place. Hravalin stayed where she was standing. Trav heard footsteps and turned.

  Yaakova proudly walked behind him and stopped, with a somewhat reluctant Captain Bravoosa in tow. Trav spotted Ysintrill on Narnaste’s back. She’d gotten a sword somewhere and all of her normal expressions of kindness and gentleness had been replaced with the eyes of an ancient warrior.

  Trav crossed his arms. “I can’t come any closer, so this is more a yell than a talk.”

  “My family cares about my life, and I am not complaining.” Hravalin offered him a wry smile and turned to Yaakova. “Sister, what is the meaning of this? I gave you these soldiers. I trusted you!”

  Yaakova rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Villi, you summoned us in here before we’d even had a bath and planned to keep me under your thumb. Captain Bravoosa here was babysitting me the entire time. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had to take notes on everything she heard me say among my group.”

  The captain moved from foot to taloned foot, and Trav felt a flash of humor as he realized the captain was really terrible at keeping a poker face.

  Hravalin set her jaw. “I am our family’s Guide! And this human—”

  “My name is Trav, and I am not human, at least I don’t think I am anymore. You don’t have to call me by a title, but you will stop addressing me as ‘human.’” He paused dramatically before continuing, “—Or I won’t help you.”

  “How could you possibly help us?” Ursha’s mocking laughter rang until she caught sight of Hravalin’s furious expression and choked.

  “I told you to stay silent, Ursha. If you disobey me again, I will be forced to punish you.”

  As the older harpy grimaced, Trav felt impressed with Hravalin all over again. She had the same self-confidence as Yaakova, but also seemed to have more control over her temper, and better communication skills. The fact that she was so young just made her more impressive. Trav was beginning to understand why she’d been chosen.

  She turned to Trav and said, “Ursha spoke out of turn, but her question was good. What can you possibly offer me...other than to father children in my tribe?”

  Narnaste began to growl, but Trav gave her a look until she stopped. He met Hravalin’s eyes and said, “Without my help, you have no hope of becoming the Royal.” After a breath, he took the final plunge, putting words to the East tribe’s grim situation. “And if you don’t become the Royal, the East tribe probably won’t last another ten years.”

  The harpies around the room began to hiss again, but Hravalin, Ursha, and several other older harpies near the dais just glared. Trav raised the volume of his spell and said, “It’s true, and you know it! Even the other East tribe families have better militaries than you do. They are not supporting you, and if you eventually beg, which you will have to do in order to have a chance of winning a martial contest for the royal tree, it will result in debts that eat away at this family!”

  The room grew louder and Trav continued, “The Mist family is still one of the top five in the East tribe! You are weak, but the non-named families are even weaker. Meanwhile, the North tribe and South tribe are strong, and have been weakening the East tribe for five years, right? All of this infighting will make your tribe weak, vulnerable.”

  Trav had no problem memorizing information, and Yaakova had been a good teacher. Trav practically felt like he’d grown up a harpy now with as much as he knew about harpy politics.

  “Do you intend to just insult and taunt us until my goodwill fails and we rip you apart, human?”

  Trav frowned and drew a quick glyph in the air that transformed into a globe of red light that floated outward before silently forming a soundless little explosion. The demonstration took almost no magic power, and wasn’t dangerous, but it sure looked scary. He heard a Kin in the crowd breath, “Rune magic.”

  “I thought I told you about calling me human, harpy.”

  Hravalin’s eyes narrowed and her jaw firmed, but she nodded. “What is your name?”

  “You can call me Trav, or Travis.”

  “Well Trav, you have all of us watching, and you’ve yet to explain what you are actually offering. You’ve disrupted my court, claimed to be a god, angered my guards, and basically acted as if you want to die. You have power of your own, but the other main reason you are in one piece right now is that you have so many powerful friends guarding you, including my half sister.” Her eyes flicked at Yaakova.

  Trav grinned without humo
r. “I have chosen not to harm any Bernacian except in life or death self-defense or in defense of another. You might have a different opinion of my abilities if I’d wanted you dead.” The harpy guards fingered weapons, and one looked like she might draw her bow, but Trav met her eyes and shook his head. “I’ve killed Rakshasa. I will not go down easily if it comes to serious violence.”

  Hravalin asked Yaakova a question with her eyes, and her sister slowly nodded. The East tribe Guide blinked.

  Trav continued, “And this situation would be very different if my group were not unarmed.”

  “You have a shapeshifting Kin guard who can turn into a giant wolf, so I’d hardly call you helpless, but yes, I will say you have a point.”

  Perfect, thought Trav. She’d completely walked into where he’d wanted her to go. “Weapons are actually one way I can help. When they left this place, Bravoosa’s company was the weakest of the Mist family, correct? Now they are likely the strongest. Between the advice I have given, and the enchanted armor and weapons I have gifted, Captain Bravoosa’s soldiers are much more dangerous than they had been before.”

  “Captain Bravoosa, is that true?” Hravalin seemed more curious than guarded now.

  Bravoosa tucked her wings in as close to her body as she could and bowed. “Yes, Guide. And—” The captain paused and looked around like she wasn’t sure if she should speak anymore, but Hravalin waved her on. “He is very popular among many of my soldiers. They have sparred with him, and he can keep up, or even surpass them. And once he demonstrated some magic that I received a report about later. They believe he fought a Rakshasa. He also has a Rakshasa nephew, a ward.”

  “A what? He travels with a Rakshasa?” After Bravoosa nodded, Hravalin asked, “What kind of enchanted weapons? Lower grade?”

  Bravoosa shook her head. “No. High grade.” She drew her sword, activated it, and the blade burst into flames. She manipulated the weapon again and the fire grew, shooting toward the top of the room. Right after the flame had burned a scorch mark in the stone overhead, Bravoosa cut the effect. The surrounding harpies were stunned as the captain said, “He gave away armor that is probably worth a small fortune to a soldier who beat him at chess. Now I have soldiers armed with sidearms that are better than the main weapons of some of the most powerful armies on Asgard.”

 

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