Iduna's Apples (Valhalla Book 2)

by Jennifer Willis

  The devil screamed its fury and slashed out with its claws before ducking into the pass-through between Bedrooms and Media Storage.

  “Quickly!” Thiassen shouted, holding his arm where the devil’s claws had connected with his flesh. “It is going the wrong direction!”

  Thor leapt to his feet and was after the escaping devil, who had joined a gaggle of its companions among the carnage of overturned bookcases and DVD wall units.

  “Scatter, you abominable lizards!” Valthrudnir shouted. Swinging a standing coatrack like a sword, he drove another score of the beasts ahead of him from the Home Office department on the opposite side, though Thor noticed the devils scarcely paid the Frost Giant any attention.

  Thor ducked as the two groups of Køjer Devils collided in a cacophony of deafening screeches. Individual limbs lashed out from the dark, scaly mass and sliced indiscriminately through nearby furniture and walls.

  Thor maneuvered carefully around the screaming throng to join Valthrudnir on the far side of the melée. The Frost Giant was hunched over with his hands on his knees.

  “What half-witted lombungr came up with the design of this place?” Valthrudnir panted.

  Thor grabbed the Frost Giant by the shirt and pulled him out of the path of a mostly intact media cabinet that had been hurled at them.

  “Twisting and turning from one room to the next, from so many modest feast tables through a maze of rolling chairs,” Valthrudnir ranted. “This is how these humans live?”

  “I think it has something to do with flow,” Thor attempted in explanation. Then he noticed that the devils had grown considerably quieter—still screeching and clacking their claws together, but at a less-than-earsplitting volume.

  Valthrudnir opened his mouth, no doubt to complain again about the design of the IKEA showroom, but Thor held up a hand to silence him. The Køjer Devils lifted their dark-scaled faces upward, then slowly turned as they scanned the walls and floor.

  “What are they doing?” the Frost Giant whispered. The mass of devils looked right past Valthrudnir and Thor as they continued turning. The devils breathed as one in long, wet hisses.

  “They’ve caught the scent of the oil,” Thor replied. At least, he hoped that’s what was happening. It would make their job of herding these lizards down toward Heimdall that much easier.

  A sudden, brain-searing shriek rose up from the group and nearly knocked Thor off his feet. High-pitched screeches of laughter followed from the glistening red-black scrum of devils before they split apart again and tore through the wall separating the bookcases from the Bedroom section.

  “I suppose that’s easier than going single file through the doorway,” Thor grumbled before taking a deep breath and shouting at the top of his lungs. “Go on, you! Get moving, you bastards! Turn left! Left! You stupid lizards! Just pretend it’s NASCAR,” he growled.

  Once they were clear of the narrow pass-through back to Bedrooms, Valtrudnir started swinging his coatrack again. Despite all their shouting, Thor and the Frost Giant had little effect on the direction or speed of the Køjer Devils. The creatures were following their own instincts for petroleum as they screeched down the frozen escalator to the marketplace.

  “They’re Heimdall’s problem, now,” Thor sighed.

  Thor was about to follow the devils down to the lower level, when a surprised shout from Valthrudnir stopped him.

  Thiassen lay on the floor, tangled up in blood-soaked bedding and clouds of shredded pillow stuffing. He lifted his good arm in salute to Valthrudnir and Thor, while his other arm lay motionless and bleeding at his side. The Frost Giant’s face was a study in quiet agony.

  Valthrudnir knelt beside his kinsman. Without a word, he lifted Thiassen’s wounded arm and tasted one of the slash marks there. Valthrudnir immediately made a pained face and spat black phlegm onto the linoleum floor.

  “Venom. And likely spreading.” Valthrudnir looked up at Thor, then helped Thiassen into a sitting position. “Are you able to travel?”

  Thiassen shook his head at first, but then gritted his teeth. “Yes. I might still be of use in this fight.”

  Thor didn’t like Thiassen’s grayish pallor, and he could see dark lines beginning to branch out beneath the Frost Giant’s wan face. Thor thought of Heimdall, Freya, and Saga below. Sally had covered them all in protective bindrunes, but he wished he had a way to warn them about the poisoned claws. But by this point, the devils were probably already on top of them.

  Thor and Valthrudnir managed to get Thiassen on his feet. He held his injured arm close to his body and pushed away from his friends, headed for the escalator.

  “He’s not giving up,” Thor commented. “I like that.”

  Valthrudnir grunted and followed his kinsman down the frozen stairway.

  Maggie rested in the driver’s seat of the Vanagon. From the parking lot, she’d been trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening inside, to no avail.

  She could, however, hear the muffled shrieks of the Køjer Devils. As each new chorus erupted, she shut her eyes tighter.

  “Camping with Heimdall,” Maggie muttered softly, trying to immerse herself in memories of happier, saner times.

  Iduna sighed her loud annoyance in the passenger seat. Maggie ignored her.

  “Heimdall and Laika, get in the tent,” Maggie continued, pinching the bridge of her nose against the battle cries from inside the IKEA building—and against Geirrod’s dark grumbling added to Iduna’s irritated sighing.

  Maggie remembered her incessant pleas for Heimdall to drag his sleeping bag inside the tent, and to bring Laika with him, instead of sleeping out on the dirt covered in pine needles. Even she had been getting tired of the sound of her own voice when she finally acquiesced and pulled her bag out of the tent to sleep under the stars at his side.

  They’d backpacked in late April along the Eagle Creek Trail—Maggie’s first-ever camping trip, even though she’d been living in Oregon five years already. Heimdall had made it his personal mission to introduce her to what wilderness still remained, and was patient with her even as she white-knuckled her way across the High Bridge. Relaxing among the many waterfalls, Maggie had found her laughter again watching Heimdall spend a full hour trying to coax Laika out of the Punchbowl Falls swimming hole.

  It was long past sunset when they’d finally pitched their tent just short of the mostly empty Wy’East camping area.

  Maggie smiled as she remembered trying to get the tiny Pocket Rocket propane stove started in the dark, and how delicious the re-hydrated salmon pesto pasta had tasted once she’d finally gotten the water to boil. All the while Heimdall and Laika had been exploring deeper along the trail, returning only after the stars were bright enough to shine down through the evergreen canopy.

  Maggie took a deep breath and felt the muscles in her shoulders relax. She stretched her toes inside her sneakers and tried not to knock the gearshift with her knee. She settled into the memory of being awakened in the morning by Laika licking her face, and laughing at the pine needles and flakes of bark she found tangled in her hair . . .

  The scream of claws raking through steel exploded over her head. Maggie opened her eyes to the sight of the Vanagon’s roof being torn off in jagged strips from above, and of fluorescent yellow eyes peering down at her through the uneven rents.

  “Maggie!” Iduna was shouting, but she sounded so far away. Maggie could still feel Laika’s slobbery tongue on her cheek.

  A sinewy, dark-scaled limb with six-inch claws slashed downward from the roof. One of the sharp points made contact with the sleeve of Maggie’s sweatshirt, but she felt no pain. Instead, black smoke rose from the tip of the claw, and the creature shrieked in fury and pain as it yanked its limb back.

  “Exit the vehicle! Immediately!” came Geirrod’s rough voice. Maggie shook herself awake as the Frost Giant pulled open the van’s sliding door and pushed Maggie and Iduna out onto the pavement ahead of him.

  “What’s happening?!” Maggie cried as
she found her voice.

  Iduna grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her backward, away from the Vanagon. Maggie looked to the roof of the vehicle and nearly lost her footing when she saw the dark creature perched over the shredded metal. It was the size of a grown man, and covered in dark scales that glinted in the midnight sun. It looked up at the sky and howled, then cringed painfully and shielded its yellow eyes before slashing downward again at the Vanagon.

  “What is that thing?” Maggie screamed.

  Iduna kept dragging her back. “Køjer Devil,” the goddess responded hoarsely in Maggie’s ear.

  Geirrod hovered in the camper’s doorway, watching their retreat. “Get back!” he shouted, over and over.

  The devil shifted its position to peer over the edge of the roof. Its thin lips parted into a wide, shark-toothed smile as it raised its clawed arm and took aim at the Frost Giant.

  “GEIRROD!” Maggie screamed.

  Geirrod looked up and met the devil’s strike face-first.

  19

  Heimdall stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Freya and Thrym. The sound of the devils’ claws on the escalator’s metal stairs echoed off the freshly painted walls of the marketplace. The devils would be on them in seconds.

  Heimdall looked up at the King of the Frost Giants. “Whatever happens . . .”

  Thrym cut him off with a curt nod. “We will negotiate terms later. For now, let us dispatch this band of griss fretr.”

  “Piglet farts.” Freya nearly giggled. “Lovely.”

  The creatures’ wild shrieks announced the impending attack. Heimdall stepped forward of Freya and Thrym and crouched low, an uncapped marker in each hand. He’d never before fought with basic art supplies as weapons; he was pretty sure none of the Old Ones had. Then again, no one in his long memory had done hand-to-hand combat with Køjer Devils, either.

  “Historic battle,” Heimdall whispered to himself as the first lizard-shaped shadows loomed in the rooms beyond. Assuming anyone lives to tell the tale.

  Thrym and Freya fanned out behind him and adopted similar stances, bracing for the fight.

  We need a new bard, Heimdall’s thoughts continued, unbidden. Without Bragi, there’s no one to record our history in epic poems, or to sing of our exploits around winter fires.

  Heimdall shook his head sharply, trying to jolt himself into the present. The bruise on his head began to throb painfully, and Heimdall clenched his jaw. Even with the replenishment of the apples, this battle was going to take everything he had.

  The first two devils came flying through the air, launching themselves into the marketplace at Heimdall and the others. Heimdall managed to duck out of the way of the sharp claws that sliced close to his face, and reached up with a red marker as the devil’s body soared over his head. It was too quick for him to draw an actual bindrune, but the long streak of magick ink rent a smoking hole in the creature’s midsection.

  The devil collapsed to the floor and howled in pain, while the second creature landed in front of Thrym. The Frost Giant threw a heavy box of decorative bath tiles at the creature’s head. The devil easily batted the obstacle away, but the maneuver left the creature’s flank exposed and Thrym dove forward to mark its side with one of his pens.

  Freya walked casually up behind the devil Heimdall had injured and drew on the back of its neck with her own pen. Both Køjer Devils froze in place for an instant, then exploded outward in a thick cloud of black smoke and soot.

  Heimdall coughed and waved the smoke away from his face. “What do you think of our Moon Witch now?” he called out to Thrym.

  The rest of the Køjer Devils were on them before Thrym could respond.

  “Nets down!” Heimdall heard Freya shout from somewhere behind him as one of the devils tackled him to the floor. The creature slashed at Heimdall’s throat and chest. He felt the sharp claws scraping against his skin, unable to pierce his enchanted flesh. The devil shrieked in frustration and pain as its claws caught fire where they’d made contact with Heimdall’s skin.

  Score another point for Sally Dahl, Heimdall thought to himself as he plunged a magick marker into the devil’s eye.

  “Nets one and two down!” Saga shouted from the far perimeter of the room. Heimdall looked quickly over his shoulder to see layers of mosquito netting falling into place along the room’s walls and over the entrance to the Home Organization section.

  “Get behind them!” Heimdall shouted in response, knowing that his sister was probably already out of earshot.

  The devils screamed as they collided with the netting, and Heimdall’s nostrils burned with the scent of scorched lizard as the combined magick Sally, Iduna, and Freya had woven into the nets went to work.

  He fell back toward the center of the room and stepped inside the blue circle Freya had drawn. Thrym and Freya followed soon after. The Køjer Devils swarmed around them.

  “Is this all of them?” Thrym asked as the devils’ shadows fell over them.

  “Saga?!” Heimdall called out. He held his breath, straining to hear her response over the din of the devils’ shrill cackling.

  “Perhaps she has fallen,” Thyrm said.

  “Quiet!” Heimdall hissed.

  There was a high-pitched shriek in the direction of Textiles & Rugs, followed by a loud thud and what Heimdall guessed was the sound of a Køjer Devil getting smoked by some of Sally’s magick ink.

  “All in!” Saga called out. The last nets fell into place, blocking the remaining exit out of the Bath section. “All nets down!”

  “Do it,” Heimdall commanded Freya. She already had the knife out and sliced quickly into the pad of her thumb. Crouching down, she touched her wound to the blue ink on the floor and a brilliant spark raced clockwise around the circle.

  Heimdall, Freya, and Thrym stood back to back inside the circle, facing the restless devils as they hissed and spat and formed a thick ring around the trio in the center.

  Trapped in close quarters by enchanted nets that burned their flesh, the six-foot-tall lizards grew even more agitated and irate.

  “Yeah, okay,” Heimdall said casually to the surrounding devils as they snapped their jaws at him. “So now we’re all that stands between you and that oil you’re so desperate for. Makes you mad, doesn’t it?”

  He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Freya. “How long will the circle hold?”

  Freya shook her head. “Long enough to keep these guys from setting the whole world on fire. I hope.”

  “GEIRROD!” Maggie screamed as the Frost Giant fell from the Vanagon. He collapsed onto the black pavement and clutched at his torn throat. A torrent of blood soaked his clothing and pooled around his body on the ground.

  Iduna held Maggie firmly in place as they watched the Køjer Devil raise its clawed fists to the sky and cackle in victory.

  “Quiet now,” the goddess whispered into Maggie’s ear. “There’s nothing we can do for him.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “But there is still something we can do for each other.”

  “He’s going to kill us!” Maggie squeaked, her eyes wide as the Køjer Devil tore off more of the Vanagon’s roof, seemingly just for fun. Iduna held her tighter, and Maggie felt a strange tingling sensation rising up from the base of her spine.

  The Køjer Devil leapt down to the pavement and eyed Maggie and Iduna. It clicked its claws together in violent anticipation as a wide, sharp-toothed grin spread over its scaly face.

  “Quiet now,” Iduna said again. Her soft voice was the perfect counter to the devil’s high-pitched shrieking, and Maggie felt her body relax even as the creature crept toward them.

  “I call on the Nine Realms to bear witness,” Iduna said quietly, still holding Maggie tight as they faced the approaching devil. “By the powers of Ásgard, Midgard, and Vanaheim. Of Svartálfaheim, Jötunheim, and Álfheim. Of Nidavellir, Niflheim, and Muspellheim. I pass the blessings of my forefathers to my successor.”

  Maggie’s nervous system exploded in pain. Her entire field
of vision flashed a blinding white, and she had the unmistakable sensation of fire racing up her legs while her spinal column felt like it was being shattered by a long string of firecrackers.

  Gasping in agony, Maggie fell forward out of Iduna’s embrace. She caught herself on her hands and knees on the asphalt and blinked furiously, trying to get her vision back. She could hear the shrill cries of the Køjer Devil and knew that it loomed over her. It would be mere seconds before she felt its hot breath on the back of her neck and its razor-like claws slicing into her gut. At least, that’s what she imagined it would be like, even with Sally’s protective sigils.

  “Iduna!” Still blind, Maggie reached out for where she estimated the goddess to be. But her hands grasped at air.

  “Iduna!” Maggie cried again. The vibrating pain that had wracked her body had faded suddenly to a numbing buzz. Her vision was starting to come back, and she crawled toward what she guessed were the lower folds of Iduna’s gown.

  “Be strong, Maggie!” Iduna called out. “They’ll need you now.”

  Singing out an ancient battle cry, Iduna moved quickly out of Maggie’s sight. The sound of the devil’s angry scream filled Maggie’s ears. Blinking hard to clear her vision, Maggie climbed to her feet and froze in her tracks.

  Iduna cried out again as she plunged one of Sally’s magick pens like a dagger deep into the devil’s chest. The creature howled as it simultaneously slit Iduna open from throat to gut.

  “NO!” Maggie screamed. “Oh, no, no, no!”

  She stopped herself from rushing forward to Iduna’s aid, in case the creature might still be alive. But Iduna and the devil sank together to the ground. The creature exploded in a cloud of black ash, and Iduna’s body lay on the pavement, her eyes staring lifelessly up at the midnight sun.

  “Iduna!” Maggie cried, her voice strangled by tears. She lowered herself to the pavement and sobbed.