Norns of Fate: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Descendants of Thor Trilogy Book Two)

by S. A. Ashdown

  ‘But why? If you’re willing to help?’

  ‘It’s complicated, sweetness. The community is divided into different factions, allied to varying divine powers and ideas about how to deal with the threat. We must tread carefully if we wish to avoid civil war among our own kind.’

  Ava set the paper down. ‘Why can’t anything be simple?’

  Belle pressed her lips together, accentuating the thread-lines around her mouth. She was considering something. At last, she turned over Ava’s palm, and circling it with her finger, said, ‘This is no time for you to play shop for sapiens, Ava. Meet with our leaders on behalf of Theo. Unite us into one voice, one power, with the strength to fight the storm that looms on the horizon.’

  Frigg’s prophecy. It hung over her head, a scythe ready to swing in a heartbeat. I must do something. If I fail, at least I tried. ‘Tonight,’ Ava said, ‘arrange it tonight, before I lose my nerve.’

  Menelaus had been observing the comings and goings at St. Michael’s for hours. Lorenzo was stowed away in the tower with Raphael, according to a tip-off from Theo, but Menelaus was determined to get to the bottom of this.

  He’d already hidden tracking devices on both Penny and Malachi’s cars, aided by the scent-mask he’d recreated using his own half-vampire blood – thank God he’d watched Rachel do it in the lab last time – and his reclaimed invisibility.

  The hour before midnight, the priestess and his vampire ‘brother’ left the church together. Menelaus followed, watching out for breakable twigs and crunchy gravel. The ground was wet from the storm, and light drizzle, though miserable, muffled his movements.

  The pair drove off in separate vehicles. Menelaus tried not to groan. What if they went in opposite directions? Who would he follow? He had time. On the way back to his 4x4, stashed in woodland not far from the coastal road, he watched the GPS on his phone.

  He stuck the device to his dashboard and followed the blipping symbols north, Malachi and Penny’s vehicles taking parallel paths on the M5 and the A38 until their routes converged towards the Mendip hills.

  ‘Where the hell are they headed?’ Menelaus asked aloud.

  Sometime in the early hours, he realised the destination was Cheddar. He fancied he could smell the cave-matured cheese as he neared the town, and his stomach gurgled. I really need a holiday.

  He navigated steep inclines and hairpin bends, admiring the waxen beauty of the hills in the moonlight. His prey slowed through Cheddar town itself, passing the gorge and caves as they travelled deep into the heart of the Mendips.

  Prey, Menelaus thought, fingers flexed on the wheel. Excitement bubbled in his gut. This was a hunt.

  And he loved it.

  He pulled up in a narrow lane, close to Blagdon Lake, and switched the interior light on. It seemed brighter than usual. He glanced at the rear-view mirror and drew in a sharp breath. His hazel eyes were bigger, the irises stretched and inky black. He blinked hard and they returned to normal.

  ‘Half-vampire,’ he whispered, and the taste of Lorenzo’s blood surfaced, unbidden. Menelaus bit his tongue and winced. A bead of blood seeped out, and it was good. Hauling his rucksack from the passenger seat, he got out of the car, locked it, and melted away, hidden even from the stars.

  It took him hours to track them again. He lost the trail in several different villages as his quarry moved on foot, but he was prepared for that; after all, this was his first attempt at tracking using the blood-bond. Hiking through the hills at night was trickier.

  Eventually, he summited Black Down, the highest point in the Mendips. I shouldn’t have been able to climb it so quickly, he realised. How did I do that? He peered into the darkness, the towns like burning coals amongst ash.

  ‘I love killing, Penny, but even I’m finding this a slog.’

  Instinctively, Menelaus ducked into the grass, although he couldn’t be seen.

  ‘The price must be paid.’ Penny knelt on the ground as Malachi clapped his hands. Three men shuffled over the brow and sat next to Penny. She moved their hands so that they created a human triquetra around her. ‘A soul for each Niflheim warrior.’

  ‘I’m aware of the T&Cs,’ Malachi said.

  The men with Penny said nothing. Menelaus crawled through the grass, getting as close as he dared. He may be quicker than he had previously realised but there wasn’t a chance in hell he could outrun Malachi. The men’s faces were slack, and eerily familiar. Where had he seen them before?

  He squinted, and his vision sharpened. No, he didn’t recognise them, but that look, it had been on the servants too, the ones from the Old Vicarage. He shifted in the grass.

  Malachi tilted his head to the wind, breathed in, and looked down at Menelaus.

  Menelaus reached for his baton, wishing he’d asked Theo to enchant it. He unfurled to his feet, ready; he’d stashed some goodies in his backpack too.

  But Penny begun a chant, a bellow in Latin that Menelaus struggled to decipher, a violent lungful of breath that screamed into the hills. The ground beneath her grew molten, and the men twisted and strained but could not break their grip. ‘Lady of the Underworld, Queen of the Dead, please accept our sacrifice, these traitors worthy of your torment!’

  Menelaus ran to the men, trying to wrench them away, but all his strength did nothing, and neither Malachi nor Penny even noticed. Curses he couldn’t verbalise burned his mouth.

  A rumble rippled over the hill. He retreated behind Malachi, who yawned.

  Immortals have seen everything.

  The ground tore apart around Penny, flames lashing up through the cracks. Her shrieks grew louder, tearing the night in two, as the men tumbled through the gap. She remained on a tower of earth, hands raised in the air and blood seeping from her nose, her eyes, her ears. She held the position, her cries drowned out by the sizzling flame and the rumbling hill, until whatever forceful fist had breached the earth retreated. Penny’s arms fell to her sides, and the ground closed up.

  Only the victims’ hair remained on the grass beside her. Malachi glided over and offered his palm. She grinned, biting into his flesh with two tiny fangs where her canines should’ve been. Malachi licked the blood from her face and neck.

  Her teeth, when she smiled, were normal again. ‘It won’t be long now,’ she said, ‘I can sense it. The Black Widow yearns to grant our wish.’

  Malachi wrapped his arms around her and dug his sharp nose into her hair.

  Tenderness? Menelaus found that harder to believe than the sacrifice he’d just witnessed. And who were those men? Traitors, she’d dubbed them, but traitors of what, of whom?

  ‘And when she does,’ Malachi said, pulling back, ‘we’ll slaughter everything in our path. At last, we’ll own the world.’

  32

  The Gathering

  Ava resisted the impulse to hold Belle’s hand. Belle’s wife, Isis, was with them, a dark-skinned woman with ebony curls and lush green eyes, and she was the one who took the ‘stage’ to address the audience.

  ‘Leaders of Pneuma, welcome,’ Isis said, her rich voice rising around the cavern like smoke. As they’d left the shop, Belle had explained that the Pneuma community had fought bitterly for the right to maintain underground passages as a means of escape in the event of a sapien uprising against them. History demanded such a right, but it was policed; each clan leader put forward guards on a random rota, who monitored entrance points and prowled the tunnels for fugitives. But tonight, Belle had pulled a favour, and they were all ‘off sick’.

  Isis raised her hands for quiet. ‘We’re all nervous of the brewing storm,’ she began, ‘but we have a special guest tonight, which is why we summoned you here.’ She angled her lean body towards Ava. ‘We have brought you a seer touched by the gods.’

  Touched? I’m not mentally disabled. Ava examined the crowd, their faces pale in the torch-light. She glanced at Isis as a flash of authoritative yellow rippled across her aura – she saw those in low light sometimes, since Frigg.

  Ava st
ayed silent, mimicking Belle’s confident body language: the arched back, the tilted chin. She met the eyes of the Pneuma standing below the rocky platform, acutely aware she wasn’t one of them.

  ‘What is she?’ called a lone voice.

  Isis ushered her forward, a flicker of doubt cracking her authoritative mask. ‘Ask her yourself.’

  Ava stepped to the front, fiddling with the cuffs of her cardigan. These people had to take her seriously. Theo was worried. Menelaus was in danger. Lorenzo and Raphael wouldn’t fare much better. Already she had failed Isobel by not retrieving the amulet. Instead the boy-immortal possessed it and she had no way of hiding it anyway. She must do better.

  ‘Good evening,’ she said, ‘I am…’ She hesitated.

  I am Theo’s girlfriend. And she cared for him more than she ever expected; his exuberance and intensity and his kindness, it fizzled away her defences. But she’d be damned to sacrifice the self-worth she’d fought for her whole life. ‘My name is Ava Wallace. I am a “sensitive” sapien, with a lifelong connection to the Clemensen family.’

  The crowd threatened to drown her out with their murmuring. She copied Isis’s gesture and raised her arms, calling for hush. ‘I was born clairvoyant but recently the goddess Frigg showed me a terrible prophecy I can barely understand. Her visit amplified my gifts, and the things I see now make me fear the future.’ Ava paused. ‘If you can even call it that.’

  The truth. Yes, the truth was she hadn’t shared the full extent of her visions with Theo. He was wrapped up enough in the centre of the puzzle. She had to work her way in from the outside. Belle touched her shoulder and whispered in her ear. ‘You didn’t tell me the visions came from Frigg.’

  Ava shook her head. The crowd shifted into flux as a tall man, with the same caramel-black skin as Isis, strode forward to the platform. ‘Who can confirm what you say?’

  ‘Brother,’ said Isis, ‘I vouch for her.’

  ‘Because of your wife,’ he sneered. No love lost between these siblings, then.

  Belle took Ava’s side. ‘Back off, Jeremiah. I read this girl myself. Her visions come from the divine.’ Belle waved her hand over Ava’s forehead, and she reared back, dizzy. Isis steadied her from behind as Ava’s aura became an opaque rainbow that matched her hair, filling the cavern.

  Jeremiah’s eyes widened and he sank into the crowd. Isis smiled, satisfied, as the other Pneuma shouted out in awe. ‘It’s beautiful!’

  ‘Like Bifröst itself!’

  Ava looked up. Her aura engulfed her, in seven defined strands, that bolt of white the crowning glory. ‘I’m not lying,’ she said, and her aura stayed pure.

  ‘She speaks the truth!’ another voice shouted.

  ‘Why did Frigg give you this gift?’

  Ava squinted into the shadows below the platform, searching out the high-pitched voice. A child, preteen, had asked the question. The crowd paused, waiting for her answer. The silence choked her, so many eyes, wanting, wanting…

  Ava smiled, breathing through her mouth to calm herself. She couldn’t lie, not with her aura so visible, but she wanted to avoid getting Theo into trouble. She wished he was there with her to lend his weight, both physical and yes, political, to her words. This trial, the Praetoriani itself, none of it made much sense, other than that it was serious, and very dangerous. Any one of these men and women could report him for inciting…what exactly?

  I’m not one of them. They can’t punish me. ‘The Clemensens are close to the gods and goddesses. Belle informs me that you’re all aware of Theo’s trial?’

  Bobbing heads, disapproving glares. A few arguments broke out but died away again. Belle whispered over Ava’s shoulder. ‘Some Pnuema are reluctant to join our cause. They’re afraid. It’s easier to believe Theo is guilty.’

  Was he? Had she even asked him? Did it matter, after the visions? ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ she continued. ‘Theo is concerned. He prayed for guidance and Frigg answered. She left us with a parting gift.’

  ‘Us?’ Jeremiah.

  Ava shrugged. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’ That titbit aroused the crowd more than her warnings of imminent doom. ‘But that’s not important.’ She sighed. ‘I said that’s not important!’ The hubbub died away. ‘Theo’s not some spoilt princeling upset because he’s being told off. He’s true-hearted, funny, kind, and tolerant. He cares about keeping you safe. But he can’t do that locked away on trumped-up charges.’

  ‘He’s one of many who have suffered,’ Jeremiah shouted. ‘Why risk ourselves – our families – for one warlock?’

  Isis clicked her tongue against her teeth, annoyed.

  ‘I suppose you think his family can protect him,’ Ava said. ‘Maybe that’s true. But I’m telling you this. Theo possesses unimaginable power, more in his little finger than contained in this cavern. If the Praetoriani ensnare him, there is no one else who can stop them coming after your families. And they will. I see Frigg’s warning every time I blink; Hellingstead will run with blood.’ She stopped to hear the swift cries of denial. ‘It won’t stop there, so there’s no point in running. I know so little of this world but Frigg has made it clear. Ragnarök is on the horizon. Theo alone can stop it.’

  She stepped between Belle and Isis, allowing the crowd time to process her words. As she expected, rows spread like wildfire across the cavern. Belle pursed her lips, revealing the little lines there. She was focused on two men and women who stood out, Jeremiah included. His dark red cloak contrasted with the deep purple worn by the other man, while the women’s distinctive silk coats signalled them out as leaders too.

  After an age of bickering, the four pushed their way to the front and leapt onto the platform. Daunted, Ava moved aside. Jeremiah stood next to his sister, fists clenched and pinned to his sides. ‘Magna Helen?’ called Belle.

  Helen stepped to the front, her smile cold on her Germanic features. ‘We agree that something must be done,’ she said. ‘This tyranny cannot continue. We have tried to change the Praefecti from within but our good warriors get weeded out without fail. Akhen makes sure of that. We have tried to resist across the centuries, fighting in small pockets while at war with one another, and we have always been crushed. We must strike as one.’

  ‘Magnus Jeremiah?’

  ‘I won’t allow my brothers and sisters to pledge their lives while my own warriors sit in idle safety. The final battle will hunt us all down.’ Ava felt the rocks tumbling from her chest. ‘But until Theo Clemensen stands here and swears that his allegiance is with us, and not those Tuscan beetles, I won’t jeopardise a single soldier!’ He gestured to her. ‘Beckon him here, sapien, or go home.’

  ‘Can you vouch for everyone in this cavern?’

  ‘Everyone except for you,’ he said. She tried not to take that personally.

  ‘I need some phone signal.’ Belle waved her hand over the screen, the bars building up. ‘And I need you to teach me that,’ she laughed.

  Belle smiled. ‘Magic is not something you teach,’ she said.

  ‘It’s something you are,’ added Jeremiah, unhelpfully.

  Theo picked up quickly, his accent thick with concern. ‘I came to the shop but it’s closed. Where are you?’

  ‘With the local Pneuma, in the cavern below the Old Town. They want to meet you, Theo. Can you sense where I am?’

  ‘I can try. Are you safe?’

  Ava eyed Jeremiah, his bulky arms shielding her view of the crowd. ‘Yes, but don’t dally.’

  She didn’t have time to end the call. Theo arrived, the air crackling and popping around him like golden sherbet. He dwarfed Jeremiah and the others, pushing past them to gather her up in his arms. His warm aroma, hazelnuts and pine, quieted her nerves. ‘What’s going on, Ava?’ She wanted to kiss him, to ease away the worry lines around his eyes, unnaturally opal but so full of tender feeling.

  Belle tapped his arm. He turned, surveying the expectant faces. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.’

&nb
sp; Nervous laughter juddered through the crowd. Theo jumped down from the platform and shook the hands that came at him, exchanging names and smiles, kneeling down to talk to the child that had questioned Ava.

  Why didn’t I do that? she thought, fixed on Theo’s grin, both shy and friendly. The crowd parted to let him deeper into its heart, and Ava hurried after him, taking his arm as the people who depended on Theo’s magic closed up the gap.

  EXCERPT

  From Akhenaten, Imperi Ducis of the Praefecti, to the Legatus Legionis of the Aureum Cultris:

  The sun casts a long shadow. I am not ignorant of those who lurk there, the ones that have guessed at my hatred; their whisperings are flies, and like flies, they will be incinerated by my fire. I want them to see me coming – that is the whole point!

  33

  A Night Off

  We surfaced from the tunnels in the storage rooms under Belle’s shop, feeling like mice eating through concrete cheese, for it was a rat’s maze beneath Hellingstead. Belle and Isis kissed and laughed, the mood festive. ‘King Theodore the First. I like the sound of that,’ I said, examining the gold-leaf wreath that one of the silken-robed women had planted on my head. Where she had got it from was anyone’s guess.

  ‘I don’t think that was a coronation,’ said Ava, hand on her exquisite hip, ‘more a pledge.’

  ‘Queen Ava,’ I mused. ‘It has a nice to ring to it, don’t you think?’

  ‘We’re not married,’ she said, and we both blushed. ‘I’m just your consort.’

  Isis sashayed up the steps to the shop floor. ‘Make way for Snow White and Prince Charming!’ she chimed. ‘Royalty of the Solem Umbra!’ We followed her echo, hearing a cork popping from a bottle of champagne.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ I asked, which was dumb, considering two witches and one Gatekeeper stood – in my case stooped – below the beams of Crystal Clear. Isis swayed her hand over the counter and four crystal glasses appeared. ‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘What are we toasting exactly?’