Earth's Hope

by Ann Gimpel

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Gwydion gnashed his teeth in frustration. The blasted Persian mirror tunnels had led them to three dead ends, but their current path looked like it might pan out. They’d passed this point in the central tunnel before. He recognized it because he’d carved a gash in the flesh-like material lining the passageway last time they’d been there. It had really pissed off whatever breathed life into the passageway because the damned thing had ejected them back to the room they’d started from.

  “If I ever get my hands on that fucker Adva, I’ll choke the life out of him.”

  “Same thing I was thinking,” Arawn mumbled. “There’s a battle. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, and we keep walking around it.”

  “We just passed where we’ve been stymied before,” Timothy said from behind him.

  “Tell me something I doona know.” Gwydion pushed power through his staff until it glowed brightly. “Hold a moment. Tell everyone to concentrate as much magic as they can and focus it there.” He jabbed the tip of his staff forward. Power bubbled so sharp and bright, the tunnel walls actually retreated a foot.

  The walls turned silvery, and then pink. Suddenly the tunnel fell away to nothingness and they were in an enormous chamber full of smoke and flames and littered with bodies.

  “Goddess be praised! We hit the mother lode. Finally.” Gwydion stabbed the air with his staff and hurried into the melee. It was hard to see much of anything until he fine-tuned his magical senses.

  “Holy crap!” He came to an abrupt halt, surveying the impossible. “What the hell? How’d they get here?” he muttered.

  Arawn pitched up against his back. “Why’d ye stop?” the god of the dead demanded.

  “Of all of us, ye should be able to see in the dark.”

  “I can. I was fixated on the dragon brood. How do ye suppose—” Fire flashed past his head, and Arawn ducked.

  “The mystery will keep till later.” Gwydion focused power through his staff and sent lethal energy into a troll, a gnome, and a pair of undead glued to one another in the throes of sexual ecstasy. It looked as if someone had emptied Hell into this cave, and he cursed Adva for creating a portal.

  “Fight well.” Arawn loped into the fray, with Andraste on his heels keening a battle cry.

  Gwydion scanned the room to see what was needed. Demon spawn poured from half a dozen gateways. A young dragon had stationed itself in front of each and was dealing death to whatever popped through. The black youngling circulated among his eggmates, urging them on and killing at the same time. Damn, if he didn’t look like a junior version of his father. Gwydion smiled wryly, recognizing truth in his thoughts.

  If a new Norse dragon’s been born, it bodes well for the world.

  Fionn, Andraste, Arawn, and Bran traded blows with trolls and demons. Nidhogg and Dewi had split up their brood and looked like they were providing backup and encouragement and doing their damnedest to make certain nothing happened to any of them. It made sense—this was their offspring’s first major battle.

  The humans had fanned through the room killing whatever stepped into their path. Where were the dark gods? And Aislinn and Rune? Gwydion let his power guide him to a spot a little away from the worst of the fighting. Looking pale, but determined, Aislinn sat with her back against a wall. Rune sat by her side, ears pricked forward and his gray-black fur drenched in the dark gods’ blood.

  Gwydion tried to breathe through his mouth. The dark gods’ blood had a nauseating stench: decayed flesh mingled with rotten grease. Because the battle seemed to be moving along all right without his immediate assistance, he sat next to Aislinn. “What happened, lass?”

  “Long story. I was certain I was dying. Tried to Heal myself, but there was too much damage. D’Chel got tired of trying to fuck me and decided to carve one of my ovaries out.”

  Fury roiled through Gwydion at the atrocity of it. “That son of a bitch. I’m surprised ye remember aught.”

  She nodded, her golden eyes somber. “I am too. Something shifted once I passed out. It was like I’d moved to my astral self, but the color leached out of the world. It looked like how I always imagined death’s dream kingdom from some poem I read in high school.” She twisted her head to meet his gaze. “It isn’t important, but who wrote it?”

  “T.S. Eliot. What did ye see in your astral form?”

  “Fionn had me, was doing everything he could to Heal me, but he ran up against the same roadblocks I found. Once over half the blood in a body is gone, it’s impossible to reverse things. Dewi showed up and ordered him to give me to her. At first he didn’t want to, but Rune sided with the dragon.” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “I would be dead—actually, I think I was—except Dewi gave me her blood.”

  Gwydion tried to mask his surprise, but even in her current condition, Aislinn was sharp. She narrowed her eyes and asked, “What aren’t you saying?”

  He eyed her appraisingly. “Ye must be feeling pretty chipper.”

  “I am, and I don’t understand it. If Fionn wouldn’t kill me for joining the battle, I’d be on my feet fighting.”

  “You are staying right here,” Rune said. “If you try to leave, I’ll bite you.”

  She ruffled his fur and then brushed her fingers together. “Ick. Your fur is full of sticky blood.”

  “I killed Perrikus,” the wolf announced with more than a tinge of satisfaction. “I jumped on him and ripped the side of his neck out.”

  “Yes, I saw that part.” She stroked her wolf. “I’m proud of you, honored you’re my bondmate.” He turned and nuzzled her, bloody snout and all.

  “Is that him and D’Chel over there?” Gwydion asked and tilted his head toward twin pyres burning fifty yards away. He was grateful Aislinn hadn’t asked more about why Dewi’s blood gift had been a shock. It was the dragon’s place to tell her, not his.

  Aislinn nodded. “Dragon fire. After Rune attacked Perrikus, Fionn pinned D’Chel to the wall with a steel pike and Dewi moved in to finish them off—as much as they can be finished off, that is.”

  “How’d the little ones get here?”

  “You mean the baby dragons?” At his nod, Aislinn smiled. “I think they invited themselves. Their parents sure weren’t expecting them.”

  A demon sashayed close and Rune leaped at him, closing his jaws over his neck. More blood spewed, drenching all of them with black ichor.

  “Why the fuck can’t they bleed red like the rest of us?” Aislinn muttered, wiping gore out of her eyes.

  “I’m going to join the others, lass.” Gwydion patted her thigh. “We have to get those gateways closed afore we have a prayer of winning the day.”

  He scrambled to his feet as Timothy made his way to them.

  “Fionn sent me,” Timothy said. “He wanted me to make certain Aislinn doesn’t require further Healing.”

  “I’m fine,” she said and made shooing motions with both hands. “Both of you help finish this so we can go home.”

  “If it’s all the same,” Timothy murmured as he settled next to her, “I’ll just do a quick scan. Fionn will want a full report.”

  Gwydion strode to where Fionn, Bran, and Arawn fought. Andraste glittered like the golden goddess she was, dealing death from a few yards away. Fionn had been there when Dewi shared her blood with Aislinn, yet he’d sent a Healer, which meant he didn’t know the legend—or the power—of dragon’s blood, particularly from a dragon bonded to you. Gwydion pointed his staff at a pesky phalanx of gnomes that were closing on him, annihilating the front row. At least it slowed them down. It was possible Fionn, who’d never been much for study, and who was one of the younger Celtic gods, had no idea what had transpired between Dewi and Aislinn, or what the gift of dragon’s blood meant.

  Gwydion clapped Fionn on the shoulder and moved between him and Arawn. He burned to tell his friend what he’d figured out, but that was Dewi’s task, not his. “How’s it going?” he asked Fionn.

  “Och, we’re holding our o
wn, but we need a different strategy.”

  “Like finding Adva and disabling him and his wretched portals?” Arawn suggested.

  “Any idea where to look?” Gwydion asked.

  “Nay,” Fionn grunted, looking like he wanted to rip the world apart. “We’ve been kicking that can down the road for a while now. The bastard is a master of hiding in his own tunnels, and they’re such a rat hole of a maze we could hunt from now until the world ended and not find him.”

  Gwydion gazed around the demon-filled cavern and counted at least ten of the fell creatures for every one of them, with more emerging from new gateways that were forming fast. They needed to do something, but what? The young dragons moved to cover the newer gateways, but there were twice the number of gateways as dragons now, and Hell’s hordes burst through, ready to fight.

  * * * *

  The young black dragon spit fire in frustration as another gateway opened. He retreated to where his father stood, blasting everything within range with a potent combination of fire and magic. He ducked behind the range of Nidhogg’s fury and said, “I have an idea.”

  “Spit it out.”

  Nidhogg junior swallowed hard. He’d imagined an easy victory where he and his eggmates waltzed in and saved the day, but there were hundreds more of the enemy than he’d envisioned. It didn’t matter how many they killed, more blatted through new openings every few minutes.

  “Behind every new portal that opens, there has to be a master portal developing new branches.”

  Nidhogg twisted his head and looked down at his son. “Interesting concept.”

  “So,” he hurried on before his courage failed entirely, “since we’re small enough to fit, I say we follow one of the portals until we find the main one and destroy it.”

  The elder Nidhogg’s eyes whirled with admiration. “I like it. Furthermore, it just might work.” He leaned close. “Don’t tell your mother. She’ll have a fit. Worse, she’ll want to catch a ride inside one of you.”

  “So I have your permission…sir?”

  Nidhogg roared with laughter. “You must be terrified, or you wouldn’t have asked.”

  The young dragon shook himself and drew himself up to his full height, which was about half his father’s. “I am not terrified, just…cautious.”

  “Once you’re inside the portal isn’t the time for caution,” Nidhogg warned. “Your path will be set then, and you cannot retreat.” He bent so his head was at eye level with his son’s. “Are you certain about this?”

  “It’s my idea isn’t it?”

  “Indeed it is. Have you told the others?”

  “Yes. But it’s dicey enough, I wanted to get your blessing.”

  “You have it, and more.”

  The black youngling clasped talons with his father, then turned and clumped into the murk, calling his eggmates telepathically. They gathered in front of the largest portal. “Once I tell you”—he gazed from dragon to dragon—“weave your magic with mine and we’ll go inside. It may take a while to locate the source tunnel so we can bombard it.”

  “What happens after that?” the copper male asked.

  Nidhogg cracked a quick smile. “I have no idea. We’re making this up as we go. We have Father’s approval. Mother doesn’t know, so when she starts screaming, ignore her. Keep your warding up so she can’t catch a ride with any of us.”

  He twisted on his haunches and launched himself into the tunnel with his mother’s furious trumpeting ringing against his ears. At least she didn’t try to follow them, but then she couldn’t, because she’d never fit. Young Nidhogg scattered demons as he went. It took too long to kill them, so he stunned them enough to let him pass. The passageway was smaller than he’d anticipated, barely large enough to accommodate him. The walls were made of a pink-gray ectoplasm that seemed to be alive, which was encouraging. If it lived, they could kill it. The beating walls curved in a downward spiral, and Nidhogg hoped the damned thing didn’t go all the way into Hell.

  If he’d been wrong about his master tunnel theory, he’d just signed his and his siblings’ death warrants. No going back. Unless the tunnel widened, there wasn’t room to turn his blocky body around. Nidhogg grabbed at the fleeing edges of his courage. He’d seen this clearly, it had to work.

  Unless the reason I saw the vision was because one of the dark gods planted it.

  Stop! I have to believe in myself and my magic. It’s the only way.

  “How much farther?” someone called from behind him, but Nidhogg didn’t answer. He didn’t know and didn’t want to insult anyone’s intelligence by guessing.

  Time rushed by in a haze. The occasional demon blocked their path, but they’d thinned out. Perhaps someone had spread the word to take another route. After three tight spirals where his body scraped against the clammy ectoplasm, the tunnel spit him into a cavern. His first thought was relief because he could finally maneuver his body.

  He dialed up his night vision and found what he’d hoped for. “Yes!” he trumpeted. Before him was a much larger opening, and ranged behind him were over a dozen portals like the one he’d just come through. He may not have found the master tunnel into Hell, but they were close enough.

  “Now!” he shrieked at his eggmates as they joined him in a tight row. “Blend your power and target that huge hole right in front of us.”

  Two trolls swaggered through the opening, took one look at the line of dragons and turned back the way they’d come.

  Young Nidhogg took the time to braid their magic into an invincible mosaic. Once he was satisfied, he launched it into the opening and instructed it to detonate after a slight delay.

  “Will we blow up right along with it?” a green male cried.

  “If we did, it would be for a good cause,” the copper male said.

  “More magic,” Nidhogg demanded. “I’m going to teleport us back to Mother and Father before this blows up in our faces.”

  Try to, he amended silently as he gathered power from his brothers and sisters. Roaring filled his ears and the creepy, gray tunnel dissolved around him. For long moments, he didn’t know if it was because he’d teleported them to safety or because he was now bits of nothingness joined to the universe.

  He peered through emptiness, willing his vision to clear. When it did, shock flattened him. They weren’t in the cave where the battle was raging, but outside the fortress. Kra and Berra converged on them.

  “Where did you come from?” Kra shouted, sounding furious. He latched a taloned foreleg around the roots of one of Nidhogg’s wings.

  “I told you they’d never stay put on our borderworld,” Berra cut in.

  “Well, they’re going back just as soon as we finish things here,” Kra said, winding bands of power around the brood to contain them.

  “Stop it!” Nidhogg junior wrenched himself out of Kra’s steely grasp. Pain shot through his wing, but he couldn’t elude the invisible barrier the dragon was constructing around them.

  “Stop what you’re doing,” the copper male echoed. “We’re heroes. We blew up the master tunnel into Hell.”

  “Fucking great,” Kra muttered. “You’ve lost your mind.” He rounded on Nidhogg. “See what your folly has cost? You should be ashamed. I’ll see you locked on our borderworld for the rest of your days.”

  Nidhogg’s temper snapped and he shot fire at Kra. “Father knows we’re here. He gave us his blessing. We’ve been beneath the fortress fighting. Copper is right. We are heroes.”

  Kra shot fire back, but it rolled off Nidhogg’s scales.

  “I’d like to hear this tale from the beginning,” Berra said, eying her mate.

  “Why?” Kra countered. “It’s nothing more than a bucket of week-old fish guts.”

  The red dragon faced down her mate, golden eyes blazing with determination. “And I say we listen. I sensed truth in what little we heard.”

  Fire spewed from Kra, but since he hadn’t contradicted his mate—a bad idea in young Nidhogg’s limited experience�
��maybe it might be all right to tell them what happened.

  “I’ll begin,” he told his eggmates. “Feel free to jump in if I miss something.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  An ominous booming roar filled the cavern. Fionn twisted from side to side trying to determine the new source of attack. Magic at the ready, he balanced power until he could get a clear shot at whatever was after them now.

  Nidhogg’s triumphant trumpeting rose above the din of battle, and Fionn hurried to his side. “What’s going on?”

  “Look.” Nidhogg jerked his head toward the scraggly row of portals that were winking out of existence. Only three remained, and they fell in on themselves as Fionn watched.

  “Did someone locate Adva and corral him?”

  “No.” Nidhogg’s chest swelled as if he were bursting with pride. “My son and his eggmates went into one of the demon’s portals and followed it until they found the main tunnel leading up from Hell. Then they blew it up.”

  “Brilliant.” Fionn slapped Nidhogg’s side and winced as scales sliced into him. “How’d ye know to do that?”

  “It wasn’t my idea. The black youngling came up with it.”

  “Quite a genius.” Fionn beamed and dragged a hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

  Nidhogg trumpeted again. “He should be. He’s the next Norse dragon.”

  Fionn cast an appraising glance at Nidhogg, realizing he should have known. “Regardless, that little bastard is too smart for his own good. He just impressed the hell out of me.” Fionn looked about, but didn’t see any of the brood. He fought a sudden, sinking feeling that they’d gone on a suicide mission. It didn’t seem like Nidhogg would be quite so cheerful if that were the case, but still… “By the way, where’re he and the rest of them?” Fionn kept his tone casual, while peering through smoke and murk searching for flashes of color that would signal the young dragons’ presence.