by T. G. Ayer
Then they ran, hurtling into the heaving throng of fighters, with the earth vibrating beneath their feet.
Thor, with his hammer drawn, swung it left and right sending frost giant bodies flying. From where we sat watching, it was clear all the gods knew how to fight. But something was bugging me. Something I should have been able to put a finger on by now.
Shaking my head, I turned Ara's head, aiming it at Odin. I pretended not to hear Frigga's worried shout, choosing to be at Odin's side in this war.
Pushing the Sleipnir into a gallop, I found myself beside Odin in a blink. As the All-Father fought against the frost giants, I drew Freyr's sword and swung it, cutting down any of the Jotunn who attempted to attack the team of gods from the rear.
And then when the ground rumbled I knew what I'd been missing. The Surts. The fire giants were meant to fight and kill Freyr. I shook his sword and held it up high. Then I threw it into the air as I urged it to fight and protect the gods. I did whatever I could out of instinct, having no idea how the sword actually worked, and for a few seconds I felt foolish. What if Freyr had some secret chant that he said to make the weapon work? I'd be fresh out of luck and look like a fool on top of the bargain.
I held my breath. What if the sword couldn't care less what I wished?
But, Freyr's sword heeded my request and moved as if an invisible hand held it, sweeping through the horde of fighters, fighting only the Jotunn and not our warriors.
Leaving the sword do its thing, I drew both my own sword and Gungnir, then concentrated on killing frost giants, stabbing and slashing from the relative safety of the stallion's back.
Although I fought with both hands, I felt limited on Ara's back, and at last, frustrated, I leaped from the Sleipnir. I landed in the sludgy mess that was the ground of the park, slashing mud onto Ara's legs. She whinnied, annoyed, but refused to leave my side. I worried for her safety but this was a battle after all. I spun on my heel, plunging into the fray.
I fought hard, mindlessly, pushing against the fatigue, the weakness, reaching deep inside for that insane rage that had always lingered at the edge of my mind.
Berserker rage.
I gave in to it, letting my vision grow red and my limbs take over. A fury took hold of my mind as I killed one after the other, plunging my sword into flesh, feeling it make contact with bone sending the force of the impact all the way back up my arm. I tugged the blade from my victim and felt blood spatter my face, warm and slick.
My hands grew wet and slippery. As I ran, I wiped my palms on my pants and gripped the hilt of my sword harder.
And then I came to screeching halt, trying to avoid the man standing in my path. All sound fell away and my headlong rush seemed to move in slow motion.
He didn't move to avoid me, so instinct decreed I do everything I could to stop myself from crashing into him.
Loki stood in front of me, grinning. "Oh, dear Bryn. Fancy meeting you here? You do know you will be paying with the lives of your family, don't you?" Despite his smile, an odd, calculating expression gleamed in his eyes.
"Empty threats, Loki. One actually needs hostages to blackmail people." I watched him closely to see how he'd react. He'd lost a big advantage over me, which made him unpredictable at the very least, downright dangerous at the most.
Throughout this battle with Loki, he'd forged ahead despite every setback we'd thrown at him. Some of the things he'd done hadn't made too much sense, but as much as I wanted answers this wasn't the time.
Now, his eyes faded slowly to an icy white, which I took as an indication of what potent rage looked like when experienced by the trickster.
Then he screamed in frustration and raced toward me. At the same time, I sensed movement on my right but before I could look up, someone ran at me and thrust me aside.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Fen.
Their swords clashed and an eerie scream rent the air. Loki's yell drew the attention of a few of his frost giants and they came running, their blue eyes and muscles bulging with equal fervor.
Fen struck and Loki parried, sweeping away his son's oncoming sword. Fen lunged again, his blade reaching out to Loki, but then he drew it away dodging the god as he ran forward.
He sliced the air with his blade, plunging it into Loki's side, then withdrawing it while spinning around to watch Loki's steps falter.
The Trickster growled his fury and put a hand to his side. His fingers were bright red as he took them away from the wound but he didn't seem to care. Just wiped it off on his sleeve then grinned widely as he stared at Fen through narrowed eyes.
"Loki, don't do this," I cried, desperate to ensure that Fen lived. Loki had taken on a wild, crazy demeanor, one that made me wonder about his sanity.
"But, Bryn. None of this is my doing. The oracles have spoken and now it is as it should be." He advanced on Fen, back straight as he tossed his sword from one hand to the other. Stupid move for a warrior, but Loki's arrogance won over common sense every time.
Around us, the battle raged, the scream of swords as they met, the moans of the injured, the shrieks of the conquerors. And it kept going on and on, as if only death would decide the winner of the carnage.
I shook my head. "So you'll be happy to kill your own son?" I shrieked as Loki drew closer to Fen, close enough to strike him with the point of his blade. For some reason, Fen remained rooted to the spot.
"This creature is not my son. A son would not turn on his father, would not change his allegiances, would not pledge his undying love to another man." Loki spoke harshly, the words sending spittle flying from his lips. He held his head tight, the tendons in his neck bulging with the strain as he stared at Fen.
Then Fen spoke, "You left me first. Father." Fen spat the word out as if referring to Loki as his father sickened him. The words implied that Fen's allegiances had originally lain with Loki, but the father himself had pushed the son away.
I couldn't understand the convoluted relationship but at this point I didn't care because I knew that Loki wouldn't hurt Fen, because he wanted his son to kill Odin, as was predicted.
But then Loki rushed at Fen and there was a flurry of thrusts and parries as sparks flew.
I didn't see the Jotunn come up behind Fen, didn't have enough time to get around to the other side of the dueling pair. My gut hardened as I stared at Loki. He'd planned it all, ensured I remained on one side of them as they fought, that he'd planned to win this battle with his son and didn't care how he overcame the Ulfr.
"Fen, watch your back," I screamed as I ran around them, straight at the frost giant.
But I was too late. The Jotunn plunged his sword into Fen's ribs but thankfully my shout had cause Fen to turn enough that the blow ripped open armor and skin but wasn't as deadly as the frost giant had intended.
When I looked up, Loki was gone and the ground began to rumble. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that the battalion of the Surt had arrived. I was certain I'd see Bal out there too, and wasn't looking forward to fighting one of these great fiery beasts.
Fen and I ran toward our waiting regiment. Freya hadn't sent out all the warriors and when I stared harder. Until now, not all the Valkyries had been present. Only Freya's warriors were in the field, fighting and dying.
And I knew why.
They'd known the Surt would come and they'd kept half their warriors back until the fire giants had arrived.
I watched as in the distance Odin's Valkyrie regiment made an appearance, surging down the hill and into the melee.
When we stopped beside Frigga's horse, Fen turned on me, his eyes burning red with anger. "Why did you do that?"
I jerked away, hurt by his reaction. "Because you are more useful to us alive." I shouted above the sound of clanging sword and shrieks. His eyes narrowed but he didn't respond. "Odin's here. He's out there fighting his way to Loki. I just thought you should know." My tone was cold and as soon as I'd finished speaking I ran back out into the fight, searching for Freyr's sword.<
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I found it fighting by itself as if a phantom held it in its firm grip, every thrust was strong, every blow stronger. And Jotunn after Jotunn continued to fall at the end of its deadly blade.
Watching that strange sword gave me an idea. I shrugged my cloak off and turned it around, then swung it over my shoulders.
I swayed, and felt light-headed, and knew I had little strength to fight. But I could keep an eye on Odin. I hurried past Freyr, noting his strength in the fight, but still I didn't tell him I'd found his sword. Could I really send him to his death because I wanted the sword for my own reasons?
I shook off the thought and called the sword to me. I could feel its presence drawing closer as I walked the field and searched for Odin.
Just because of his size, I'd expected to find him fast but that wasn't the case. The presence of the giant Jotunn and now the Surt army made it harder to find Odin and Thor and Vidarr in this heaving throng of battle.
But I did find him at last.
Freyr's sword hovered before me and I grabbed it by the hilt and sped up into a run. But as fast as I ran I couldn't get to Odin in time.
An arrow, taller than I was, sped through the air and caught the All-Father in the leg. Behind him another frost giant nocked a giant arrow, aimed, then fired. My heart broke each time an arrow hit home and Odin grunted.
The two archers worked in concert letting arrows fly with hope of felling the great Odin.
But the All-Father still remained upright, even with half a dozen arrows piercing his body. They'd aimed for his legs and hands, purposely ensuring that none of the blows were deadly.
I let go of Freyr's weapon and willed it to defend Odin, then drew my own sword and circled Odin and the giant he faced. Being invisible was both an advantage, and a disadvantage. I could get stepped on or stabbed by both friend and foe.
Remaining low, I circled Odin as he thrust his sword into the giant he fought. Still filled with arrows, he battled as if nothing weighed him down, but I knew the effort to keep fighting would break him soon. All of his eight wounds bled profusely, drenching the soil of Central Park with the blood of the All-Father.
And then Loki appeared and it all made perfect sense.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
He'd wanted to be the one to kill Odin and take his place as god of gods. And he planned on getting his wish even if it meant cheating.
He'd gotten his giants to maim Odin, to weaken him so that Loki wouldn't need to fight too hard to kill him. He'd kept Odin in his ethereal prison to ensure he remained weak. And remained weak even on the battlefield thus increasing Loki's own advantage.
But he hadn't counted on me.
Loki stood staring up at Odin for a moment. Then he began to transform into a giant. I would have expected him to take on some kind of terrifying form but he remained Loki, just giant-sized.
Like a god.
He took two thunderous steps to Odin, then raised his sword. His thrust was met by Odin's parry as the All-Father had seen his enemy coming.
With Loki's concentration on Odin, I got close enough to his giant ankle and swiped my blade across his Achilles tendon.
That should hamper him somewhat.
Loki howled with pain, slashing a blow at Odin before glancing down to see what had happened. I back-pedaled fast as his hand swung down to hold onto his bleeding ankle.
He looked around, great big Loki eyes staring straight at me and seeing nothing.
Then he grunted and turned his attention back to Odin, on time to deflect Odin's oncoming sword. They continued to fight, with Loki managing to remain alive, despite being hampered by his wounded leg. I was beginning to wonder if Odin couldn't summon the nerve to kill someone he cared for, when one of the All-Father's blows hit home.
His blade plunged into Loki's gut and as the Trickster stumbled I could tell his ankle injury had weakened him. A great roar sounded behind Loki, and I glanced up to see Heimdall racing at the Trickster. Loki had taken too long to react and Heimdall plunged his sword into Loki's shoulder.
Loki fought to defend himself against both Odin and Heimdall drawing both his swords and fighting both gods.
But it didn't last long.
Odin fell to his knees, blood trickling from his lips, the point of a giant spear protruding from his breastplate. Another one of Loki's men had managed to fell Odin. With so many to fight I could see how easy it would be for anyone, man or god, to be defeated.
Loki's plan had worked at last.
As Odin hit the ground, a great explosion rocked the city, and plumes of smoke and debris rose from between the tall buildings. The earth trembled and began to shudder, dropping all the warriors, both Loki's and Odin's, to their knees.
In the distance between the buildings, a giant black tail rose high, flicking back and forth before curving around a building. I could only assume it belonged to the serpent Jormungandr, Loki's son and ally.
But the warriors couldn't worry about the city. They had to fight to stay alive. With Loki and Heimdall fighting each other, I thrust out my wings which sent the cloak flying to lie on my back between my two feathered appendages.
I flapped my wings and rose in the air, something that a number of Valkyries were doing with me. They headed out towards the city while I flew over to Steinn and pointed at the serpent as it rose among the buildings.
He turned and flew toward Jormungandr, and a number of dragons followed his lead. I wasn't sure how he'd manage to subdue the giant serpent, but my attention was also focused on the writhing field of bodies.
I searched for Joshua and Aimee, finding them battling a pair of fire giants, with Brody helping them out.
I'd hoped to keep him out of danger but again, the people around me seemed to have minds of their own.
I glanced back to check on Odin and Loki, frozen by the sight of the All-Father lying flat on his back, blood pooling in his mouth and dribbling down his cheek.
Everything else faded away as I focused on Odin, spinning around to nose dive toward him. I reached him within seconds and fell to my knees beside him.
He tilted his head and looked at me, his eyes a piercing blue.
"Tell Frigga that I have always loved her."
"Shh. You shouldn't be talking." As I spoke, he began to shrink down to human size. "No, don't do that." I was horrified as he grew smaller because the giant-sized spearheads wouldn't shrink with him
"I have no choice, child. My power is fading . . ." He struggled to take the next breath.
"This is not possible. You came back to die?" I yelled, suddenly filled with fury.
"Perhaps I have," he said with a soft laugh. "You must accept it Bryn, or it will weigh you down forever. It was predestined that I go. And so it shall pass . . ." He swallowed hard and then coughed.
Movement on the other side of Odin drew my attention and I swung my sword blindly, the only thought on my mind to protect the All-Father.
The point of my sword landed half an inch from Fen's neck but all he did was raise an eyebrow.
Odin chuckled as I dropped my sword. "You do not want to fight this one in a battle," he said, smiling at Fen.
The sound of the fighting around us had faded to a dull roar as I watched the two men through a curtain of angry tears. "I'm in no condition to fight," I snapped, forgetting my place for a moment.
But Odin didn't notice. He turned his attention to me and asked, "What do you mean?"
I shook my head, refusing to tell him my problem, and give him more to think about, but Fen didn't seem to have any issues with that.
He snorted then said, "Loki poisoned her. She's dying too."
Odin's eyes went wide as he stared at me. "Is this true?" he asked studying my face as if it held the key to the truth.
I was unable to lie and could only nod as my throat closed. Hearing Fen say the words put it into stark perspective for me.
Soon, I would be dead.
This time there was no second chance.
CHAPTER F
IFTY-THREE
Odin lifted his hand and waited until I took it. "We are both dying. I am poisoned too."
I gasped and bent to look at one of his wounds. A spear was sticking out at his hip and as I parted the torn chain-mail I knew from the blackened skin that the spearhead had been poisoned.
Odin's skin was dark around the entrance of the wound, and unlike my veined patterns his was black and potent.
"He must have used a different poison on you," I whispered.
What are we going to do? I thought.
"Do not give up, Brynhildr. This too shall pass."
I gritted my teeth as the lightheadedness took control for a brief moment. Then I swallowed hard and blinked it away. A strange heaviness weighed me down, like a blanket of stones, my throat clogging and my breathing growing hard. Unable to breath, I would have passed out if I hadn't put a hand to the ground to support me.
Beneath my fingers, the soil was soggy and when I focused on them I saw the skin reddened and slick. They sat in a pool of red. Odin's blood soaking into the soil of Central Park.
Odin tightened his grip on my hand and I moved my attention from his life's blood to his pale face. A face that now gave off a soft yellow glow. I frowned and was about to ask Fen what was happening when Odin's fingers tightened.
And then it made sense. He was trying to heal me.
"No." I struggled, trying to pull my hand from his grip. "No, please. You will die." Tears streamed down my face and I sobbed as I tugged my hand away, but he never let go, not for one moment. I was fighting against a god so he wouldn't save my life, but I didn't care.
Fen touched my shoulder. "Bryn, this is what Odin wishes. He is dying and his last wish is to give you life. Do you want to say no to him?" Fen's voice was soft, even gentle, but the muscles in his neck were corded with effort.
He too was feeling the weight of Odin's impending death. And yet he was instructing me to take Odin's last breath. I shook my head and was about to ask him why when he touched my cheek. His fingers felt cool against my fevered skin. "Bryn, your father is giving you a gift with his dying breath. How can you say no to him? It is his wish."