by Ben Zackheim
A branch slapped my head and I passed out again.
When I woke up I was draped over a branch.
Rebel sat over me. She looked worried.
My arm was killing me.
“I shot you,” she said.
“I can feel that,” I said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll pay you back one day.” I looked at the wound. It passed through my bicep. “I’ll live if we survive.”
“That’s one of the dumbest and most profound things you’ve ever said.”
“Can you climb?” I asked her.
“I can. But can you?”
I hopped down to the branch below. I was able to hold on pretty tight.
I’m not sure why it’s easier to climb up than down. Maybe because every move is a small fall and the last thing your body and mind want to do when you’re high up is fall. Still, we made good time. The branches were dense and thick near the trunk so it was like walking down really weird steps.
I have no idea how long it took. Long enough for a few breaks. We took turns taking wizzes on the underworld below.
The wall was still bubbling but it didn’t reach for us anymore. As we descended it seemed to lose our scent until it looked like a wall again.
“I think I see the bottom,” I said.
“Yeah, that’s definitely it. What do you think is waiting for us?”
“Nothing good.”
“Maybe the hammer is just sitting there,” she joked.
The ground was tiled. I could tell when we were fifty feet up. The tree’s root broke through the tile in a few places.
We dropped down from the lowest branch and took a look around.
There was a single door in the silo. Rebel gestured for me to go through.
“After you,” she said.
“Very gentlemanly.”
“I can be gentlemanly.”
“Yeah, when being ladylike could lead to death or disfigurement.”
The room on the other side of the door was a large cavern. It had two sets of massive stone doors, one to our left and one to our right.
A wooden bridge drooped across a shallow ravine in front of us. The water below was clear and in its torrent it carried axes, swords, and shields.
Wait.
The tree.
The stone doors.
The river of weapons.
“Shit,” I said.
“What now?”
“I know where we are,” I said, looking around for a large guardian dog. “This is Hel.”
Chapter 10
“The tree is Yggdrasil,” I said. “The tree of life. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that.”
“Because you were falling to your death for the entertainment of millions of bored souls?”
“Maybe. But that bridge and river of weapons is the giveaway. Lots of Viking stories about them.”
“Hm,” Rebel said. “Hel’s not too bad.”
“Hel was never a bad place to the Vikings. It’s just another of the nine realms. The dead can drink and fight and try to relive old glories.”
“I’m a Viking,” Rebel said. “Where do I sign up?”
I noticed that one of the doors across the bridge had a small wooden stick sticking out of it.
After all of that hard work and sacrifice it was weird to see the relic just kind of there. Like an abandoned piece of junk.
The hammer was stuck in the door. Mjölnir beckoned.
I took a step and immediately knew it was a mistake.
The shadows on the other side of the cave hid something. It moved. Some big rocks rolled into the light.
“There’s the dog,” I said. “Protector of the realm.”
“Wait. Dog? I won’t kill a dog,” Rebel said.
“You’ll kill it if it tries to eat you.”
“No I won’t.”
“Rebel…”
“And if you kill the dog I will make your life so miserable…”
“More miserable than it already is?”
“You have no idea.”
“You’ll kill the dog.”
“Watch me so not kill the dog.”
She pushed past me and walked straight over the bridge. I followed close behind.
The thing in the shadows stepped into view.
Hel had a sense of humor. The protector of the door wasn't a dog.
It was a giant cat.
All the myths, all the lore, and none of it mentioned anything about a cat. Don't get me wrong, I love cats. But if I had to fight a giant dog versus a giant cat? Well, anyone with their head on straight would choose the dog.
“That's a cat, genius,” Rebel said.
The giant tabby cat folded its front paws under its chest and regarded us like cats do. It didn’t move. One of its eyes was slightly opened but it was mostly bored with our presence.
I palmed both Glocks and got ready for a fight. The cat growled.
“What are you doing?” Rebel asked. “Put those things away.”
“What's your plan? Are you going to talk our way out of this?”
“Maybe.”
“I think we should try, too. With my guns out.”
The cat opened its other eye. Again only half mast. It was starting to get hot in there. I didn't like how tired I was feeling.
“If you can distract it I can get close,” Rebel said.
“I think it can understand every word you say,” I said.
Rebel gave the cat a sideways glance. “Is that true?” she asked it.
The cat didn't say anything. It was a cat. But it spoke volumes with its silence.
“We can speak in Latin. Does it speak Latin?” she asked.
“It's a demon,” I said. “What do you think?”
“Good point.”
I took a look around to see if there was anything we could use against the monster. But the cavern was just a cavern. Big rocks, small rocks, tall rock walls, high rock ceilings, and an eerie orange glow that beamed from the torches above both sets of doors. The flickering light danced around, drawing shadows everywhere.
Rebel cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted, “Hey! Cat! We need to get through that door!”
Instead of getting its attention her voice seemed to make it go back to sleep. Both eyes closed. And it started to snore.
“Good work,” I said.
“Shut up. It may respond well to courtesy.”
“Not if it's a real cat.”
“It's worth a shot,” she said.
“These are worth a shot,” I said holding up the Glocks.
“Those will have no effect on it,” Coleslaw said from behind us.
“Shit!” I said. “You’re good at sneaking around!”
“The hammer is before you,” he said. The Traveler’s shoulders were hunched low and he didn’t make eye contact with us. He saw my wounded arm and touched it. The pain waned into nothing.
“You’re a Healer?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Hurry,” he said, frowning at me. “They move closer by the second. I think they may be here right now.”
The cat suddenly sat up, eyes wide. It sniffed the air and then a slow, low growl rumbled from its throat. The growl turned into a hiss. Its ears went back. If there had been a chance to sweet-talk it, that chance was over.
The hammer’s handle started to shake. Stone fell from around it. Suddenly, it dropped from its perch and fell to the dirt floor. Then it scraped past the confused cat, which swatted at the hammer like it was a toy mouse.
Suddenly the hammer lifted into the air. The cat knocked at it and it swung back and forth like it was on the end of a string.
Easy shot.
I aimed at the space above the hammer and fired. It kept rising.
“You’re pissing off fluffy,” Rebel said. Her hands were starting to glow. She was about to cast a spell.
I shot again. Nothing. It didn’t move.
“Bullets won’t do anything. It’s being lifted
by a spell,” Rebel said. A thin, wavy beam of yellow light flowed from her palms and zipped straight up. It lit the ceiling.
“Who’s that?” Rebel asked, looking up.
Someone was perched on a narrow ridge high up on the other side of the cave. His face was white as a skull. The rest of him was tough to see but I could make out the outline of a long jacket.
I fired. His face sparked and the brunt of the bullet snapped his head back. He fell. But not like a limp doll. He fell gracefully. As if he’d already recovered from being shot in the face. He landed somewhere in the shadows.
The hammer dropped to the ground.
Rebel ran for it.
Chapter 11
The cat had a clear enemy and it relished the moment.
I don't know if you've ever woken up in the morning to the sight of a yawning cat in your face. That's pretty much what we saw. I could see down its gullet.
Rebel’s leap was, as usual, longer than mine. It's not really a fair comparison considering she uses magic and I use legs. She strikes first because she always reaches the target first. I strike next, quickly, from a distance. Our routine usually means the bad guy is reeling from her strike while I finish him off with bullets. Usually specialized bullets, because our enemies lean Supernatural.
But this time neither attack did anything. The only reason we didn't end up with a one way ticket to Digestive Tract Avenue was because the cat miscalculated. Apparently, even cats can be surprised if you decide to strike first.
I bounced off its lower jaw and slammed into the ground. Rebel bounced off its nose and smacked into the stone wall behind us. Coleslaw just watched, eyes wide. He would have been more help if he hadn't been there at all.
I got to my feet just in time to dodge a claw as big as I was. Rebel used the split second to lodge her nails into its other front leg. It hissed again and fell on its side. But not because it was hurt.
Because now it could use all four paws to attack.
We ran out of reach just in time. I felt the wind of its swipes at my back as I shoved Coleslaw to the dirt floor.
“A little help here!” Rebel yelled from behind me.
She’d dug her claws into the cat’s shoulder and now she was flailing around like a rag doll riding a house cat.
I dropped a couple of slugs in the cat’s right eye. It was about as effective as two spitballs.
Rebel isn’t a cat person. She doesn’t know them like I do. If there’s one thing you want to avoid on a cat, it’s the tail. The tummy is number two, but a distant second.
So when her nails dug into its tail she was met with a cat on its back, swiping. It bent its tail so she dangled over his sharp teeth.
The only thing that saved her was my fist in its ear.
I’d punched as deep as I could. My arm was up to the shoulder in cat ear. I could feel things in there. Fuzzy, crunchy, fleshy, wet, oily. It was like a cornucopia of gross shit. All I had to do was find its…
I knew when I was flying across the cave in a shallow arc that I’d found the eardrum. The cat’s screech was almost enough to blow out my own ears. Only fair, I guess.
I skidded across the floor and dropped into the river of floating weapons. I saw a massive axe twirling below me and dived. It slid across my boot and cut the leather wide open. I looked up and waited for a break in the floating death traps. I surged upward, snagged a shield and put it between me and a few sharp things. They bounced off of it and Rebel pulled me out by the collar.
“Thanks,” I said, out of breath.
“You won’t thank me when you see that.” She pointed up.
The hammer was floating out of sight again.
I got off as many shots as I could for all the good it did.
It was no use.
Mjölnir was in undead hands.
“Did anyone get a look at him?” I asked.
“He was human,” Coleslaw said. “I heard him land and he grunted.”
The cat was licking its wounds. It glanced at us suspiciously but it didn’t seem too upset about its loss. Cats.
“He was a Magicist, though,” Rebel said. “No one else could do the things he just did.”
“I think he had some kind of mask on. A helmet. I shot him in the face. Coleslaw, how do we get out of here?”
Without a word, he turned and shuffled back to the tree. He walked around the massive trunk where he pointed to another door.
“That wasn’t there before,” I said.
“The hammer is gone,” Coleslaw said. “That changes everything.”
“Where would they take the hammer?” I asked, running for the exit.
“It’s no use,” Coleslaw said. “It could be anywhere.”
“Look, I know you’re hurting,” I said. “And I’m really sorry for your loss, but we need to get that thing back.”
“I’m sorry, Kane,” he said. “This is the end of my knowledge. There’s the door. After that I know as much as you do.”
He opened the door and we looked out on the skyscape of Iceland. Beautiful, calm, and hiding immeasurable power. I ran outside and looked around for a clue. Anything that could tell me where to go next.
Nothing.
We’d lost.
And now the world would pay for it.
“We’ll keep our ears open for news,” I said. “Any anomalies. Anything that strikes you as weird.”
“They could take it anywhere in the world,” Rebel said.
“I don’t think they will,” I said. I wasn’t sure if it was hope or a gut feeling. “Something about this place. If they’re going to make a move let’s assume it’s here.”
Our cell phones rang at the same time.
I looked at the screen. “Cassidy,” I said.
“Rose,” Rebel said.
I happened to spot the date. We’d been in Hel for two days.
“Hey Rose,” I said.
“Hey Rose? Really? You drop off the map for two days and you just say hey Rose?”
“We were busy.”
I looked over to Rebel who was walking off, plugging an ear so she could hear Cassidy yell at her.
“Did you get it?” Rose asked.
“No.”
“You’re on a roll, boss!”
“Any news? Have you seen anything weird go on?”
“No, nothing worth mentioning,” she said. “Oh, wait!”
“What is it?”
“It says here on the calendar that my birthday was yesterday and you broke your promise to buy me my first drink!”
“Rose…”
“And on today’s calendar it says ‘Dickhead boss buys Rose two drinks to make up for being a jerkoff.’”
“We need to find the hammer,” I said.
“Skyler can help us,” she said.
I hated to hear it but she was right. Desperate times…
“We need to find him first,” I said.
“He’s here.”
“Where?”
“Bar 89,” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “He’s bartending!”
Chapter 12
My old teacher’s black suit and fedora made him look 50 years younger, meaning about 70. But the smile on his face was as ancient as a mummy’s. Old, lifeless and filled with mirth only he understood. He’d just been turned to Vampire status a few months before. By Fox. The Lancelot dude. It was an arrangement that neither one of them wanted to talk about. But suffice it to say that my old teacher, Skyler, was at death’s door and Fox swept in with his curse of immortality.
The old man was enjoying every damned moment, best I could tell.
“Hey, boy!” he called out to me when he saw us walk through the door. We must have looked like shit because most people in the restaurant turned to look at us. ”You look like shit!” he verified.
“Just get us a drink,” I yelled back. I dropped into a circular booth next to the twins, followed by an exhausted Rebel and a mourning Coleslaw. The Traveler put his arms on the table and placed hi
s head on them like a pillow.
“You need a drink, Coleslaw?” I asked.
“Don’t drink,” he muttered.
“I’ll drink his,” Rebel said.
Skyler was trying to get my attention from the bar. He held up five fingers. I should have known that he was not the person to mix the twins’ first alcoholic beverage.
“Happy Birthday, guys,” I said.
“That was yesterday,” Cassidy said.
“Yeah,” Rose agreed, sounding more like a kid than ever. “Who are you?” she asked the Traveler.
He didn’t answer.
“That’s Coleslaw,” I said. “He’s a Travelers’ Friend.”
“Rude traveler,” Rose said.
“He just lost someone close to him,” Rebel said.
“Oh shit, sorry dude,” Rose said.
“It’s not your fault,” he said softly.
“Was it Kane’s fault?” Cassidy asked.
“No,” Coleslaw said. I was thankful for that.
I broke the awkward silence with my best shot. “You two ready for your first drink?” I asked.
“It’s a big deal,” Rose said. “Now we can drink and go to war.”
“We already go to war, like, every day,” Cassidy said.
“I’m not so sure this alcohol thing is a good idea,” Rebel said. “There’s…” She stopped.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing?”
I wasn’t going to let her off, though. “What were you going to say, Rebel?”
“It’s just that it feels like tonight is flooded.”
“Flooded with what?” Rose asked.
“Magic.”
Coleslaw managed to nod his head in agreement.
“Iceland is ripe for magic at this time of the year,” Rebel said.
“What do you mean?” Cassidy asked. “What time of the year?”
Rose sat up straight and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. A promise is a promise, right Kane?”
“Don’t pull me into this,” I said before I could stop myself. It usually takes me a good five minutes before I can put together the best guardian advice. But everyone expected me to have some wisdom at my beck and call. They had the wrong treasure hunter.
“Don’t pull you into this thing that was your idea in the first place, you mean?” Rebel said.
“Yeah, that,” I said. “Look, let’s just do this tomorrow, okay? Too much pressure for a single drink, for fuck sake.”