by Ann Gimpel
“Let’s get going.” Fionn turned in the direction Nidhogg had indicated and was joined by Thor and Odin. “You coming?” he asked Nidhogg.
“Certainly, but I’m flying. It’s an advantage to be able to see what we face from the air.” The black dragon spread his wings, flapped them a few times, and rose off the ground.
“I’d forgotten how much I love that black bastard,” Odin said and loped forward. Fionn and Thor paced him, one on either side.
Fionn kept his magical senses deployed, so he felt when the small birds and animals thinned out and then disappeared. “We’re getting close,” he cautioned. “Slow down.”
“Why?” Thor asked, barreling forward. “Fuck!” His beefy body bent backward and power arced off his chest.
“That’s why,” Fionn snapped. “The place is warded. ’Tis likely the first of several perimeter guards.” He sent power auguring into the ward to figure out its intricacies.
Thor rubbed his chest. “Hold up, Celt. If we mix our magics, we should make short work of this barrier.”
Thor’s prediction turned out to be a shade on the optimistic side, but it didn’t take more than ten minutes to chop a hole in the warding. Of course that meant they’d announced their presence as surely as if they’d ridden in on Nidhogg’s back. Perimeter wards weren’t worth a damn unless someone was monitoring them.
“Hurry.” Fionn gestured and broke into a run. “I want to be closer before the greeting party intercepts us.” Adrenaline poured through him, making his heart pound and his muscles fluid.
This time it was him who ran into a ward circle. Because it was constructed similarly to the first, it took much less time to untangle. Moments later, a large house came into view. It looked like a southern mansion with pillars supporting an upper floor. Sitting in the middle of a clearing in the forest, its white paint and shiny glass windows shone invitingly.
The air in front of Fionn split open and Majestron Zalia waltzed through a black-tinged portal. “Hello, boys.” Her full mouth opened in a parody of a seductive smile. “Nice of you to drop in. I’ve been lonely.”
“Bitch!” Odin spat on the ground. “Last time I checked, your blood was poison. Anyone who fucks you dies.”
“But they die happy.” Her grin widened. “Now, who can I thank for the pleasure of this visit?” Her midnight gaze settled on Fionn, and she licked her lips appreciatively. “I’ve lusted after you for years, Celt. I suppose you’re here because you didn’t like my little joke.”
“The one where ye got the dragons to open the gates of Hell for you?” Fionn eyed her warily.
“Speaking of dragons, I notice one’s flying about up there.” She waved her hands skyward. “He’s welcome to land. Poor thing,” she clucked. “He’s very old, and he must be exhausted. Wouldn’t want his heart to give out.”
“Nidhogg?” Fionn glanced up.
“I’ll stay where I am, thank you,” the dragon replied dryly. “Watching out for my weak heart and all.”
“You may as well talk out loud. I can hear you,” Majestron Zalia simpered and arched her upper body to push her breasts toward Fionn.
“Give it up, whore,” Fionn snarled. “I came for Aislinn. What have ye done with her?”
“I could make you much happier than that weak excuse for a human. Besides,” she shrugged, “I seem to have misplaced her.”
“Ye mean that weak excuse for a human managed to elude you.” Hope speared Fionn, so poignant he struggled to keep focused on Majestron Zalia. Aislinn was not only alive, she was still thinking, still fighting back.
“As long as we have you in our sights, sweetheart, we shouldn’t lose the opportunity.” Odin tugged his axe from its holster and faced Majestron. Fire shot from his blue gaze.
“If my blood touches you, you die too.” The dark goddess danced on the balls of her feet, her hips swaying in clear invitation.
Fionn kept his distance; he wasn’t sure about the effects of Majestron’s blood on any of them. The Norse deities were immortal, just like the Celts. He had no idea if they had some iteration of the Dreaming hidden away in the bowels of Asgard, and now wasn’t the time to ask.
Odin glared at her. She glared right back.
“Your precious dragon can’t kill me, either,” she said. “Fire won’t hurt us.”
“Not true,” Fionn cried. He may have let the blood gambit pass, but he wasn’t about to ignore this one. “I watched while Tokhots burned from the inside out.”
An unreadable expression flitted across Majestron’s face. He’d called her on her bravado, and she didn’t like it. He opened his mouth to follow up on his advantage when Aislinn blasted into his mind. She didn’t know he was there, but her energy was out in the open. The dark goddess felt it too because she spun, intent as a hunting dog on newly released prey.
“I doona care how ye manage it”—Fionn latched gazes with Odin—“but keep her here. I’m going after Aislinn.”
Chapter Nineteen
Aislinn huddled beneath the tree with Rune while Majestron vented her fury by screaming in Gaelic and a couple other languages Aislinn didn’t recognize. But anger was anger and it bled through despite the unfamiliar words. After Majestron finally stopped ranting, Aislinn waited a whole lot longer, barely breathing. Thirst was a constant, nagging companion. The more time that dribbled past, the drier her throat got until the sides rubbed together painfully.
“We can’t stay here forever.” Rune nudged her.
A breathy sigh escaped. “I know. Let me see if I have enough juice to teleport from down here.”
It was always harder to activate the teleport spell from underground. She’d done it a time or two when she’d been fresh. Now she was anything but. She needed food, water, and rest. Panic had fired her use of Seer magic, and she’d blown through any reserves that had built while she was unconscious in Majestron’s lair.
Aislinn took inventory. No matter how she sliced it, there was no way she could transport herself and Rune twenty feet from where they were, let alone far enough away for her to recover enough to bring them home.
“We have to go outside.”
“I figured as much.” The wolf shot from her side, his jaws crunching as they closed over some small, hapless creature. He twisted sideways and dropped a still-twitching mouse in her lap.
“You caught it, you can have it.” She smoothed his fur.
“I’ll find another. You need liquid and energy. Drink its blood. Suck the meat from its bones.”
Her empty stomach twisted in rebellion, but the wolf was right. It wasn’t as if she’d never eaten raw rodents, but they were far from her favorite sustenance. While she stared at the mouse, Rune skittered away from her, and she heard violent rustling and several outraged squeaks before he returned, carrying three more mice in his mouth.
Nothing for it but to do it. She pulled the knife that always hung from leather cording around her waist free of its sheath, surprised Majestron hadn’t taken it from her, slit the rodent’s neck, and sucked blood from its carotid artery. Thick, copper-scented liquid slid down her dry throat soothing her inflamed tissue, and her squeamishness faded. Once no more blood came from her insistent sucking, she split the belly, tossed the gut sack to Rune, and field stripped flesh from the tiny bones, eating hastily.
Rune nosed another mouse her way and said. “Two for each of us. It’s not enough, but it will do until we get some distance from here.”
Because she’d gotten past the mental part of eating raw rodent, the second one tasted better, and she wished for a third and a fourth. Wiping a hand across the back of her mouth, she said, “I’m ready. First thing I’ll do is clear the entrance. As soon we can, we’ll climb out and I’ll teleport us away from here.”
As she readied the spell to punch through the dirt she’d plugged the tree’s root hole with, she wondered about a destination. The teleport spell required one. She couldn’t just say take us as far as my power will stretch. Since she had no idea where they wer
e, it made it difficult to come up with a location within the limited reach of her worn out magic.
Maybe when I see what’s outside, it will give me some clues. Her reasoning was weak, but it would have to do.
“Are you certain you don’t have any idea where we are?” she asked Rune. “Can you remember smelling something that might give me a clue?”
“We’re probably not far from where we found Taltos.”
Aislinn set her spell preparation aside and stared at him. “What would make you think that?”
“The mice. They’re the same kind we had at Marta’s and around Mount Shasta.”
“You’re telling me they have a different strain of mouse near Fionn’s house?”
“Why is that so hard to believe? Get us out of here.” He closed his jaws around her ankle for emphasis.
All right, then. I’ll just aim for Marta’s and call it even. If we’re in the western U.S., we can’t be all that far from Ely, Nevada.
Aislinn picked up the threads of her spell and reversed what she’d done earlier. Because she didn’t want to create any more warning of her intent than she had to, she pulled the dirt downward and crawled over the mounds it formed. Fresh air tantalized her as she moved cautiously upward, stopping when her head was level with the opening.
“Why are you stopping?” Rune laid his head on her butt.
“To make certain no one’s waiting to snatch us, and we have at least a short window of opportunity. It takes a few minutes to make a teleport spell, and then a couple more to pull us into it. I’m going to remain in the dense brush around the tree bole. You stay near me.”
She sent the barest wisp of Seeker magic outward. When she didn’t find anything, she extended her range a little. Hope burned a hole in her heart as she scrambled the rest of the way out of the hole, staying low, and immediately started the incantation to teleport them the fuck away from Majestron’s lair. She hadn’t dared let herself think about Fionn, but his face wavered before her now, and she longed for the feel of his arms around her and the sound of his deep voice crooning in Gaelic.
Can’t go there. Got to concentrate.
Her spell formed, and then skittered away. Rune eased out of the hole in the ground and lay next to her. Aislinn bit down hard on her lower lip and tried again. Being frantic and forcing magic to do her bidding had never worked well for her. She let go of her warding to free up power to teleport.
Rune pushed into her mind. He’d done it before when she needed an infusion of strength. Suddenly, she saw the world through his eyes, and her senses became far sharper. She realized she’d been siphoning off needed energy to listen for danger. With Rune’s hearing on board, she redirected additional power into her spell.
Finally, finally, it seemed to be coming together for her. Another few moments and a portal would form. Once they had that part, they were all but gone. She nudged Rune and pointed to where she expected her gateway to take shape. “Once you see it,” she instructed. “Jump through. I’ll be right behind you.”
“I’ve done this before.” He sounded hurt.
“Yes, but not when I’m this trashed. I’m trying to cover all the bases.”
The portal blinked, wavered, and dissipated.
Fuck!
She scrubbed a hand across her face. What was she doing wrong? Before she could resurrect the spell, this time writing each step in the dirt to make sure she wasn’t missing one of them, Nidhogg’s unmistakable voice blasted into her mind.
“Grab the wolf. I’ll transport you to my back, and then we’ll leave.”
Her gaze shot upward. Even though it sounded like the dragon, she suspected foul play. Surely the dark gods could mimic anyone. Relief so staggering it brought tears coursed through her when she saw the Norse dragon hovering a hundred feet above them. It didn’t matter how he’d found them. What mattered was help was at hand. Rune wouldn’t die. Not today, and neither would she.
Rune jumped to his feet, his tail pluming furiously. Thank Christ he didn’t start barking. Aislinn sidled to him and wrapped her arms around his thick body. The blast of magic that lifted them to the dragon’s back was so powerful she could have kissed it.
“How’d you find us?” she asked once she’d settled Rune across the dragon’s back.
“Later,” Nidhogg growled. “Fionn’s here with Odin and Thor. I need to tell him I’ve got you, and they can find their own way home.” Magic bubbled as the dragon reached for Fionn’s mind.
She opened her mouth to say she wanted to be with Fionn, needed to fight by his side, but common sense kicked her in the teeth. She wasn’t in any shape to be anything other than a liability—to anyone. Hell, even something as simple as a teleport spell had eluded her.
“Thank you,” she told Nidhogg. “If you could take us back to Fionn’s, I’ll be in your debt forever.”
“Our lives are linked,” the dragon said solemnly, “because of your bond to Dewi.”
“Lass,” Fionn’s voice bloomed deep in her mind. “I love you. Stay in the manor house where ye’re safe, and I’ll join you presently.”
She had just enough time to tell Fionn she adored him before Nidhogg swept them into a portal and she fell against his neck, exhausted.
“It’s good you didn’t argue with me,” Nidhogg rumbled. “I’m not in the best of moods, and I’d hate to have to hurt you. Dewi might never forgive me.”
“What’d you expect me to do?” Aislinn asked.
“Teleport off my back to Fionn’s side.”
Heat swept from her chest over the top of her head. She’d come perilously close to doing just that. And she might have if she’d trusted her magic was intact.
“Never mind, child. Rest. I’ll see you and Rune safely home.”
“What about Majestron Zalia?”
“The men will do what they can to neutralize her.”
Aislinn’s weary eyes snapped open. “But that’s dangerous. She’s got the same poison blood Tokhots did.” Her tired brain pedaled in slow motion. “How does that work? Could she kill Fionn or the others?”
“Nay, they’re immortal, but she could force Fionn deep into the Dreaming, where it would take someone like Gwydion to draw him back.”
“What about the others? Do the Norse gods have somewhere to retreat to when they’re hurt?”
Nidhogg snorted. “You’re quite the question girl. I thought you’d be so grateful—and so tired—you’d lean on my neck and wink out.” He paused. “Your wolf’s asleep.”
She placed a hand on Rune’s side and he made a soft, whuffly, growling noise. “As if I could sleep while we teleport,” he muttered.
Aislinn turned Nidhogg’s last words over in her mind and said, “I asked you about the Norse gods and got a bunch of fluff. You don’t want to tell me.”
“Smart wench. I can’t. It’s classified.”
She wrapped her arms as far as they’d go around the dragon’s neck. Lethargy dragged at her, exacerbated by hunger and thirst. “How much longer?”
“Soon, child. Dewi’s been pestering me ever since she knew I found you. I swear, the two of you could drive a man into his cave for eternity.”
Rune woofed softly, and Aislinn knew he was laughing.
* * * *
Fionn felt like turning cartwheels. Aislinn was alive and on her way to Inishowen. If anyone could see her safely home—besides himself, that was—it was Nidhogg. He felt buoyant, as if a million tons of worry had just lifted off his heart.
Majestron Zalia.
What to do about her? Odin was correct that this was too good an opportunity to pass up. They actually had her where the odds were three to one. No one had raced out of the house to stand by her side, and he didn’t sense anyone else here beyond the four of them. At least no one with power. Maybe that was why no one had shot to Majestron’s rescue. She was here by herself.
A shrill battle cry split the air, followed by another. Fionn raced toward where he’d left the two Norsemen and the dark goddess. I
mmortality was great on his side of the equation, but deucedly inconvenient when it came to the dark gods. What he wanted to do was batter their sorry asses into dust and feed them to Hell’s demons.
Thumping, pounding, and the crash of trees falling shook the ground. Fionn burst into the clearing and saw Odin hacking and slashing at Majestron while Thor held her pinned from behind. She hissed and writhed, shifting into a snake, and then back to herself. Both the Norse gods dripped blood, but were still on their feet. Maybe they were immune to her poison, or maybe it just took longer to act than it had when one of Dewi’s brood had bitten Tokhots.
“Care to join the party?” A feral grin lit Odin’s face, and he slashed downward with his axe, severing one of Majestron’s arms. It fell to the ground, but bounced upward immediately and hovered next to her body trying to reattach itself. Majestron chanted furiously in a language Fionn didn’t recognize.
“They spent long years in your dungeon,” Fionn said. “Do ye know how to kill them?”
“If I did, they’d have been dead long since,” Odin growled.
The dark goddess’s arm was almost fully reattached. She twisted her head halfway around on her neck, something she shouldn’t have been able to do.
“Watch out!” Fionn shouted, understanding she planned to sink her teeth into Thor’s neck.
He had good reactions and thrust her away before she could strike. Once freed, her form began to shimmer. Fionn darted forward, shuffling through spells as he sought one that would interrupt her magic. A few more moments, and she’d teleport beyond their reach.
Odin whipped a golden rope from somewhere in his battle armor and wound it around her neck.
“Bastard!” she snarled, showing teeth that morphed into fangs.
“It won’t hold her for long,” Odin cried. “Precious metals dull their power.”
Fionn held out a hand for Thor’s battle axe. “Give me that.” As soon as he had it in hand, he hefted it in a huge, sweeping blow that severed Majestron’s head from her shoulders. Fionn pulled wards to shield himself from the splattering blood and booted the head as far from the body as he could.