Son of Thunder (Heavenly War Series)

by S. C. Mitchell

  “We don’t find them. I doubt we could if we tried. They will find us.”

  It was just a half hour later, as they trudged along the muddy trail, that the trees around them came alive.

  “Son of Thor.” The bright voice from the trees. “Have you come to hunt with us?”

  Jord’s face brightened as he headed toward one of the tall pines. “Linden, my old friend.”

  Out of the trees a dozen bright elves appeared. Their forest green and dark brown leather outfits blended perfectly with the environment. There were both men and women in the group. All of them were tall, thin, and incredibly good looking.

  One of them stepped forward and offered his hand to Jord. “Jord Thorson is always welcome with us.” Jord held up Queen Rhunin’s ring and the elves around him gasped.

  Chapter 8

  Jord had known Linden a long time. The elf was smart and battle savvy. Linden led Jord and Meghan back to a large cave in the side of the mountain.

  “Such hospitality.” The elf’s forehead wrinkled as he eyed the ring Jord handed him. “I offer to let you join us and you just take over the whole operation.”

  Jord knew the bright elf wasn’t really upset with him and would do anything Jord asked, including putting his own life and the lives of his troops on the line. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Jord was about to ask him to do.

  “Hi, Jord!” Many of the elves in the cave waved or shouted greetings at him. Some came over to shake his hand and thump him on the back.

  He introduced Meghan to the group and told Linden about their mission. There only appeared to be about a hundred elves in the cave. Jord had hoped for a much larger force.

  “A mortal and a prophecy.” Linden shook his head. “I’m not sure which one scares me more. In any case, we are yours to command.”

  Jord’s stomach dropped as he gazed around the cavern. “Is this your entire force?”

  Linden shook his head. “I sent the bulk of my troops out in small groups to scout. Unfortunately I don’t expect them back until tomorrow. If you can wait, you will have two thousand at your command.”

  Jord shook his head. “I can’t wait that long. They could move my father at any time. He will be held in the deepest dungeon, if he is even still here. We will have to wait until dark in any case, and use stealth to get in as far as we can with this small group. With luck we will find him before we are discovered and will only have to fight our way out.”

  Jord wondered if he was doing the right thing. It would place them all in great danger. The elves would be strong allies, but one hundred was far too small a force to assault the fortress directly. They would have to rely on stealth and luck to get in and out.

  Heimie’s vision revealed dark elves amassing at Utgard Keep. Perhaps there wouldn’t be as many here to deal with as Jord feared. In any case, the dark elves would never leave Nokkurra completely undefended.

  The sky was darkening. It wouldn’t be long now before he found out, one way or another.

  He hoped Meghan would be safe enough with them. He was tempted to leave her here, in the cave, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t go for that—that Megingjörð wouldn’t go for it either. Plus, he felt it would be better to keep her close, so he could look after her. What was it about this mortal that made him so protective of her?

  His mind was assailed by the memory of that kiss—her soft lips on his, her body pressed against him. That moment stirred something inside of him, something raw, untamed. There could never be a relationship of any kind. Only pain and suffering followed, whenever a god walked down that pathway. Yet Jord found his mind constantly considering it.

  It wasn’t logical, and to Jord’s way of thinking, just plain impossible, but deep down his body fought him. Could he really ignore those stirrings inside him?

  Bah, he was not some fertility god, with delusions of his sexual prowess. He was not like Freyr, for crying out loud. He could control his body and suppress the urges that threatened to consume him. He had a mission, and making love to Meghan Larson was not a part of that mission.

  He went to her. “I want you to use the necklace. At all times stay invisible. Stay close to us, but not in the thick of any fighting. If things go bad, get out and come back here. Any of the elves that make it out can get you back to Asgaard.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Her spirit seemed to glow with enthusiasm. “Let’s go find your father.”

  As stealthy as he thought he was, Jord had always been amazed at how quietly the elves of Alfheim could move when they wanted to. Like shadows in the night, Jord led the elves into the fortress city of Nokkurra. The advance scouts would slip ahead and clear out any sentries on guard in the sleeping city.

  They’d been fortunate. The city itself was all but deserted. Most of the dark elf forces must have already been on their way to Utgard Keep. Yet, guards walked the streets, and the stronghold itself could be holding thousands of reserve troops. Nokkurra was still a very dangerous place.

  The main keep now loomed above them, probably twenty stories or more. But they would not be going up. There were almost as many levels below the ground and somewhere down there would be the dungeons. Few survived the dungeons of Nokkurra and those that had were so broken they could never fully describe the layout. Because of this Jord and the elves had very little idea of what they were getting into.

  The dark elves were shorter, stockier and more pale-skinned than their distant cousins, the bright elves. They were called the dark elves not because of their skin tone, but because they chose to live in the darkness, and pursue dark arts and actions. They had a ruthless, military society. Asgaard helped the bright elves in their efforts to contain the dark elves over the millennia, but rarely had they been able to push very deeply into Svartalheim before being repelled.

  Jord caught just a hint of the door sentries as they disappeared into the gloom under the skilled hands of the bright elf warriors. The doorway beckoned now, and inside of the great citadel they crept, gliding silently into the heart of the enemy fortress. Down they went, whenever a stairway presented itself, searching the vast structure for the dungeon.

  The lower levels of Nokkurra were serpentine. Winding corridors and twisting staircases that looped back on themselves. Jord felt the presence of great evil here. It only grew stronger as they went deeper. Yet, they made good time and worked their way down five levels before things went wrong.

  “Yet another son of Thor has come to play.” The voice came from the darkness ahead. “We hoped, by letting your brother go, we would lure many more Asgaardians here. Sadly we must take what we are given.”

  Suddenly light flared around them and the group found itself in a vast hall, surrounded by hundreds of dark elves with swords drawn and bows ready. Jord saw his advance scouts lying in pools of their own blood at the feet of the enemy.

  “Lay down your weapons.” The dark elf leader was richly dressed. He leered at Jord. “If you surrender, you will live.”

  Jord knew better. Surrender to the dark elves would only result in their deaths or worse.

  Anger burned in Jord’s gut. “Meghan.” Jord whispered as loudly as he dared, hoping she was close enough to hear. “Get out if you can. Now!”

  “Linden, retreat.” He gripped the shoulder of the bright elf commander next to him. “Do what you can to get your troops out safely and Meghan back to Asgaard. We’ve failed.”

  Jord lifted his sword and charged the front lines of the dark elf army. Straight on, hoping to pull as many of the enemy from the sides and back as he could, to give Meghan and the elves a chance to escape the trap.

  He swung his sword in a wide arc as he approached the enemy. It would have been nice to have his father’s belt, to lend more power to his swings, but he felt glad the belt was still with Meghan, protecting her. Behind him he could hear the clash of battle as
the bright elves engaged their dark cousins, but there was no time to see how things were going.

  Jord found himself ringed by the enemy. He spun furiously, swinging his great sword around to engage as many of the enemy as possible while holding the rest at bay as long as he could. He had no thought of victory. There was no chance of that, with these numbers. He only sought to keep as many of them occupied as he could, for as long as he could, to give the others a chance to escape.

  He soon bled from dozens of wounds, but the battle fury was on him. Damn the dark elves and their evil. Death would find him in a battle worthy of Valhalla. What more could a warrior of Asgaard ask?

  In the end they dragged him down. Darkness closed in on Jord and he made one last desperate swing, to take as many of the dark elves as he could with him. He laughed inwardly. It was a worthy death, but Val was sure going to be pissed when she had to come get him and drag his sorry spirit to Valhalla.

  Chapter 9

  Do not despair.

  Meghan crouched in the doorway lost and alone. How could she help but despair? The citadel doors had been closed and locked. She was trapped inside and lost in a labyrinth of twisting hallways. The bright elves lost their gambit to escape. Most, if not all, of them were killed by the dark elves. It had been a horrible, horrible slaughter. And Jord was . . . gone. She’d last seen him surrounded by a host of the evil dark elves. How could he possibly have survived?

  They are here. We must find them.

  The voice of the belt in her head was almost commanding. Gone was the friendly, conversational tone.

  Who’s here? She almost said it out loud, but she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. She pulled tighter against the wall, hoping she was still invisible. It was so hard to tell in the gloom where she shed no shadow anyway. The two dark elves passed right by her, within touching distance. Meghan held her breath.

  The elves had the look of death. Their pale, sallow skin was stretched tight over boney frames. Like their bright elf cousins their faces were beautiful, but it was a cold beauty, a dead beauty. Like zombies in some terrible, B movie. There was no expression, no emotion. It was like looking at an animated corpse.

  One of the dark elves turned to the other. “How many survived?”

  “Eight, my lord,” the other answered. “What shall we do with them?”

  “All our troops have been ordered to Utgard for the assault on Asgaard. I have sent the Thunder God ahead with the bulk of our troops, but I will leave no one behind to guard these fools. Have them executed.”

  Even their voices were cold, dead.

  “Excellent, my lord, and what of the son of Thor?”

  “He still lives?” There was surprise in his voice. The first hint of any emotion Meghan had heard from the evil elves.

  “Barely. He has not awakened and lays at death’s door, but he continues to breathe.”

  “We have the father, what use is the son. Long have we desired the death of Jord Thorson. Our troops will be inspired by the news of his demise. Finish him.”

  “With great pleasure, my lord.”

  Jord was alive! It was that thought alone that caused Meghan to move from the safety of the dark corner and follow the second dark elf. Down a set of stairs, and along endless twisting corridors she followed, until she entered an area lined with cellblocks. She tried not to look at the poor wretches behind the bars, but she did note the one cell containing a few of the bright elves. For only a moment she was torn between trying to help them and continuing to follow the dark elf. But he had to be heading toward where Jord was.

  She couldn’t help but think of Jord. His smile, those smoldering gray eyes. It was very easy to forget what he really was and just enjoy his company as a friend, a companion. She’d only known him a short time, but she already considered him a friend. Someone she could trust. Someone she liked. And she felt protected when he was with her.

  The dark elf stopped at a door and rummaged in his pockets for a key. As the cell door opened, Meghan saw Jord lying on a cot in the room beyond. He was covered in blood. His handsome face was a pulpy mess of welts and bruises. A deep gash on his arm still bled profusely. Meghan’s heart sank. Could even a god survive such wounds?

  Pulling a wicked looking dagger from his belt, the dark elf advanced on Jord. Meghan’s head reeled, but she wasted no time pulling the weapon, Prudr, from her pocket and clicking it into its club form. She closed her eyes and swung as hard as she could.

  The club struck the dark elf on the side and it was thrown across the room. There was a sickening sound as the body met the stone wall. Bones snapped and internal organs burst. Meghan stood amazed for a moment, realizing her swing had the power of the belt behind it. The force with which the dark elf hit the wall was tremendous. Meghan knew she’d just killed him. It should have been a startling moment, a life changing moment. She’d never taken a life before. But she was able to brush that aside. Her eyes were only on Jord.

  Without a thought of what she’d just done she rushed to kneel beside the cot. Jord lay there, his breathing shallow. She pushed his hair from his eyes, but they remained closed. How she longed to see the light in those gray eyes again. To hear him talk, laugh.

  He needs the apple of Idun.

  Jord had given his backpack to Meghan before the assault and she still wore it.

  He had cautioned her. “Do not open the front pocket under any circumstances.”

  She took the pack off and laid it on the floor at the side of Jord’s cot. Her gaze locked on the zipper of the front pocket.

  “But I can’t touch the apples.”

  No, you cannot.

  The belt didn’t offer any further advice.

  Meghan scanned the room for something she could use. Her eyes came to rest on the body of the dead dark elf. Horror seized her then as she realized what she’d done. The dead elf’s eyes were open, staring blankly up. Black blood trickled from the side of its mouth. Its neck, cricked strangely to the side told of massive internal injuries. That the creature was evil, and fully deserving of death, did little to console her. She’d done this. Yes, she’d done it to save Jord’s life, but she had still killed this person.

  Had he a wife? Children? Family who loved him? Did these evil creatures even feel love?

  She forced herself to crawl over and look at him. His dead hand lay palm up and open on the floor, his dagger beside it. Then she saw in his belt, still neatly folded over it, a pair of gloves. Meghan pulled the gloves from it. The action caused the body to slump, sliding even lower down the wall.

  The gloves appeared to be made of some kind of woven metal, yet they felt soft and thin. She pulled them on her hands and, while they at first seemed far too big for her, they fit her hands perfectly. She picked up the dagger and found it easy to manipulate through the metallic fabric. How odd. She could see the gloves were thick metal, yet it felt as if she wore thin, rubber gloves on her hands.

  She moved back toward Jord and easily unzipped the front pocket of the pack. The glowing orb that was the essence of the chariot and goats, illuminated the dark pocket and the two golden apples of Idun shown in its glow. She took a deep breath and reached in, picking up one of the apples. Being careful to not let any exposed skin touch the fruit, she took the dagger and cut a small slice.

  The interior meat was just as golden as the skin, and a drop of juice gleamed on the edge of the slice as she brought it toward Jord’s mouth. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get him to eat it.

  She needn’t have worried. As she brought the slice close to his mouth, the drop of juice dripped on to his lip. Jord groaned, opening his mouth, and she easily slid the fruit in. He chewed, all by himself, and as he ate the slice Meghan saw the deep gash on his arm begin to heal. The purpling on his face faded and the swelling went down. Then he opened his eyes. Those wonderful, gray
eyes.

  “Who?” He looked confused as he swallowed.

  Of course, she was invisible. He couldn’t see her. She cut another slice of the fruit and brought it to his mouth.

  “Eat. Heal. I don’t know how much time we have.”

  As Jord moved to sit up Meghan manipulated her necklace to make herself visible to him. She saw him glance across the room at the dead dark elf.

  “You did that?” The pain in his voice did little to mask his amazement.

  She felt herself blush a bit. “I don’t know my own strength lately.” She handed him the rest of the apple. He took it, but then stared at the gloves on her hands.

  “Where did you get those?”

  Meghan indicated the dead dark elf. “Our friend over there had them in his belt. I hoped they would protect my hands enough from the apple.”

  Jord blinked, shaking his head. “Amazing. First you find Megingjörð, and now Járngreipr. Those are my father’s gloves.”

  “What?” Meghan stared in awe at her hands.

  “Those gloves are known as Járngreipr, the iron gripper.” Jord took another bite of the apple. He was standing now, walking around flexing his muscles.

  “The handle of my father’s hammer has a slight flaw. It was made a bit too short. The balance is way off. The gloves allow my father to hold and balance it. They also protect his hands when Dad needs to punch somebody out, and he tends to do that a lot.”

  “Jord.” Meghan remembered her journey here, following the dark elf. “I saw a cell with some of the bright elves in it, just down the hall. They are planning to execute them.”

  Jord knelt by the dead dark elf and rummaged through its pockets, extracting a few keys. He also found his pocket knife/sword on the elf.

  “This one must have been of high standing, or a very good thief, to have been in possession of my father’s gloves and my sword.”