by S. T. Bende
“True,” Elsa agreed as she followed us into the Arcata cabin’s technologically endowed hideaway. “But would it kill you guys to decorate it a little? I get that the boys need a place for their surveillance equipment, and that the Brynnrik mini-lab lives over there.” She gestured to the cluttered workspace while I snorted at our friends’ nickname for the tech-oriented brain they claimed Henrik and I shared. “But the rest of the house is so nice. This is just… sparse. And it’s such a big room, you could put some paintings on that empty wall, or maybe hang some curtains…”
She wasn’t exactly wrong. Our technological paradise might have looked bland from a decorator’s standpoint, but functionally it was a work of art. We’d taken down a wall that separated two large bedrooms, portioning one section off for surveillance equipment, video screens, gadgets, and the requisite lounger and gaming system, and leaving the remainder of the work space for tables littered with beakers, burners, soldering irons, robotics gear, and the odds and ends we needed to develop our occasionally unorthodox tech. We kept any tools we couldn’t fit upstairs in our larger lab space out in the garage
“I’ll let you approach Tyr with your plans for a man cave makeover.” I closed the door once the three of us were safely ensconced in the room and slid the deadbolt across the jam. I keyed the code into the pad on the wall, and heavy black shutters slid over the bulletproof windows. The alloy was fire resistant, bomb resistant, and most importantly, deflected every form of magic Henrik and I had thrown at it during beta tests, dark magic included. We’d recently insulated the house itself with the same material, ensuring that in the event of an attack, nothing, not even a homicidal devil-spawn wolf, could get through.
Tyr wasn’t taking any chances with Mia.
“Hold on.” Mia walked to the blacked-out window. “If you do that, how are we going to see what’s happening?”
“A little birdie will show us. Elsa?” I crossed to a flat screen and turned it on. Elsa closed her eyes and held out her hands, one facing the window and one facing the TV. After a minute, the screen flickered to life, showing a high-def image of the tracking party.
“That’s you? You’re a… a human video camera? How is that even possible?” Mia’s voice was high enough to make me check the windows. Good thing Henrik insisted we reinforce them. Mia had a set of lungs that could rival a berserker.
“Technically, I’m a goddessvideo camera, not a human one.” Elsa’s voice carried the joy of a thousand pinwheels. She absolutely oozed calm, even under the most stressful circumstance. “I’m telekinetically manipulating a pre-positioned mobile visual recorder, and transmitting its feed to a surveillance station—in this case, to the man cave.”
“So you guys leave cameras lying around the forest, just in case you need to spy on someone?” Mia’s tone hadn’t lowered one note.
“Tyr’s extremely thorough about security.” Elsa nodded. “But in case we didn’t have a mobile unit handy, I could pull one from the closet downstairs and send it to any location within the nine realms via the Bifrost.”
“Amazing,” Mia muttered.
“Can you pan out so we can watch for hostiles?” I asked our in-house drone. Elsa tilted her hand. Now the screen showed an overhead view of Henrik, Tyr, Freya, and Forse moving past the trees bordering Elsa’s cottage, roughly fifty meters from the cabin. They banked right and headed into a thick cluster of sequoias. Northern California’s redwoods were gorgeous to look at, but they were one massive pain when it came to surveillance. Unless, of course, you were the one looking for cover.
“I have a lock on the viewer.” Elsa opened her eyes. She kept one hand pointed out the window, the other at the flat screen. As she spoke, the image on screen swooped down—she must have sent the camera beneath the tree-cover. “If you see anything suspicious, call out coordinates and I’ll redirect the birdie.”
“Will do.” I typed a message into my phone and pressed send. On screen Henrik appeared, and pulled his cell out of his pocket. He read my text, nodded, and placed his earpiece in his left ear.
“What’d you tell him?” Mia looked back and forth between me and the screen.
“Just that we’re watching. And that I’ll communicate verbally if we see anything out of the ordinary,” I explained.
Mia dropped into the wide leather chair. Her hair framed her face with characteristic perfection, but tiny fissures lined her eyes. The stress of spending the bulk of her free time with the God of War and two bodyguards was bound to catch up eventually.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Peachy as a summer pie.” She closed her eyes. “Does it ever slow down around here?”
“We had a few calm weeks. It was great to have your brother visit for Thanksgiving—especially the part where he sat Tyr down for the ‘if you ever hurt my baby sister I will crush you’ talk. I wish I had a video of that.” I stared at the screen. “Henrik, there’s static along the northern edge of that cluster of trees—approximately one hundred meters from Elsa’s cottage.”
Henrik gave a small nod, then said something to Tyr, Forse, and Freya.
“I can’t hear him.” I shook my phone and turned the speaker feature on and off. “Why can’t I hear him?”
“I don’t know.” Elsa bent her fingers. “Is that better?”
“It’s not the viewer, though now that you mention it, sound should have come through those speakers too.” I adjusted the volume level on the monitor. On screen, Henrik spoke to Tyr, who nodded. But the only things I could hear were Mia’s shallow breaths and Elsa’s soft chant as she tried to strengthen her abilities.
“Still nothing?” Elsa asked after a moment.
“Nothing. It’s really weird.” I watched as Freya and Forse jumped to attention. They turned and ran into the darkest part of the forest.
“My powers can’t see in there!” Elsa groaned. “It’s too dense. Why don’t they go the other way?”
“What happened? Did they see something?” Mia leaned forward on the edge of the chair.
“I don’t know!” I brought my fist down on the desk. “I can’t hear anything.”
Elsa and I froze simultaneously. If our sight and hearing were rendered useless, it all but debilitated our vantage point. Oh, skit. Skit, skit, skit, skit. Skit.
“Henrik!” This time I shouted into my phone. “Grab Tyr, and go after Freya and Forse. Then get out of there. It’s an ambush!”
Henrik looked left and right, his lips moving the whole time. I tried to make out the words since I couldn’t hear, but I knew Henrik relayed my message when Tyr drew his weapon and took off after our friends.
“What’s happening?” Mia sounded relaxed enough, but she knitted her fingers together in worry.
Whatever you bloody well do, keep Mia calm. I could practically hear Tyr’s angry instructions. Given the visual feed and our need to diffuse the situation on the ground, it was going to be a tall order.
“Mia, our first priority is to keep you safe. Whatever you do, do not leave this room unless I tell you to. Got it?” I jumped up to check the locks on the door and the windows. I’d already set the supernatural protections around the house, but they’d only been programmed to keep things out. We were still free to leave—we needed to be able to call for the Bifrost and flee if absolutely necessary. “Elsa, that goes for you too. Stay in here unless I order us out. The realm can’t afford to lose our High Healer/interim Unifier.”
“It can’t afford to lose any of us,” Elsa corrected through closed eyes.
“Brynn, what’s happening?” Mia asked again. “And how can I help?”
“I don’t know what’s happening,” I said. Elsa’s viewer dropped to ground level and followed Tyr and Henrik as they bolted through the redwoods. The thick foliage seriously impeded visibility, and the viewer briefly lost sight of them as it flew through the trees.
“Elsa!” I exclaimed. “Find them!”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “It’s having a really hard time follow
ing their movements.”
“I know, but you have to try. Can it see Freya or Forse at all?” I asked.
“No.” Elsa scrunched her face up in concentration. Tiny beads of sweat appeared at her brow line as Henrik’s back appeared on the TV. “Got him.”
Henrik moved slowly, so his back was against Tyr’s. They turned in a quick circle, and I knew from experience they were evaluating the environment for the most immediate threat. My eyes took in every inch of the screen, and I verbalized my assessment for Henrik’s benefit.
“I can’t see Freya or Forse from this angle, but there are footprints five meters due south of your twelve o’clock that could belong to them.” I squinted. “Women’s size seven, men’s size… twelve? Dang, girl. Your man has big feet.” I nudged Elsa with my elbow, and her cheeks turned pink.
“He’s not my man,” she demurred. “Just do your job, Brynn.”
“Pan out,” I countered. The viewer pulled back and Henrik and Tyr shrank as the screen expanded to include more of the forest. “Footsteps head south for six meters, then turn due west and… Ground team! Get down!”
Henrik dropped to the ground, pulling Tyr with him. Something dark swooped across the screen, passing over our friends and tracing the path of the footprints.
“What was that?” Mia blurted.
“Follow it! It’s stalking Freya and Forse. Elsa, pan out as much as you can without compromising visibility.” The birdie had to stay below the canopy or the trees would block out everything, but my current vantage point wasn’t enough to let me see where the thing had gone. And I still couldn’t see the rest of the tracking party. The screen flickered with static. I could barely see anything.
“Brynn.” Elsa sounded strained. “Something’s trying to block it. I don’t know how much longer I can hold the feed.”
“Just stick with Henrik. He’s moving.”
Elsa nodded. Her brow furrowed, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. The image on the screen cleared. Now we watched Henrik’s back as he and Tyr tore through the forest. The dark thing swooped down on them again, and Henrik loaded his crossbow and took aim. Two shots sailed to the north, but the boys didn’t break their stride to check their target. The big black thing dove again, and this time Tyr swung his broadsword. The weapon was so big it should have been totally impractical, but Tyr was half giant, and he held it as if it were nothing more than a basic training dagger. The boys kept running as the shadow continued to attack. They alternated turns trying to bring it down, but nothing worked.
“Henrik, can you hear me?” I spoke into my phone. The back of his head nodded in response. “Good. We still don’t have audio on you guys, but whatever that thing is, it’s circling back. It looks like it’s running a figure-eight pattern overhead. I’m assuming it doesn’t want you to reach wherever you’re going, which I also assume means you’re heading in the right direction. I’m going to have Elsa run the bird up ahead to see if we can find Freya and Forse.”
The shadow dove. This time it came so close to Tyr his sword made contact. A thick black liquid splattered against the screen, oozing downward in a slow trickle.
“Can you clear it?” I asked Elsa.
“No,” she replied. “But they can.”
“Henrik, wipe the lens of the viewer,” I ordered. “Your seven o’clock, two paces behind. Tyr struck the attacker, and it emitted a black goo that’s covering the birdie.”
Henrik reached behind him to wipe the lens clear. He held the camera to his face and gave a disarming wink, then took aim with his crossbow and fired at his attacker just as it dove for Tyr again. His weapon made contact, sending a trail of black ooze pooling onto the dirt. The shadow quivered, and disappeared. Henrik raced to Tyr’s side, nudging him in the direction of the footprints.
“Elsa, send it ahead,” I ordered.
She nodded, and the images on the screen flew by. Reddish trunks of sequoia trees, thick green ferns, more trees, and then…
My breath caught in my throat. No. Not again.
I zeroed in on the four shapeless black blurs herding Freya toward a tall, indigo door. This wasn’t like any portal we’d seen before. It was twice the size of its predecessors, with a wrought-iron frame that emitted sparks I could only imagine were curses, and a door the purplish color of a fire giant’s boil. The four blurs slammed against Freya from each direction. Her body convulsed at each contact, like she was being shocked, the frequency of the attacks creating the illusion of a prolonged seizure. The whites of her eyes flashed as she endured the pain, biting her bottom lip so hard she drew blood. The blurs swarmed at the red liquid, ramming her backward with renewed frenzy. A few more meters and the door would suck her into another realm.
When I finally found my voice, it sounded hollow. “Henrik, they’re trying to abduct Freya. It’s a new portal, six meters north of the previous location. Four black things, like the one that attacked you and Tyr but smaller, are trying to get her through. I don’t see Forse, but… oh, skit.”
Elsa pulled the viewer back. Forse’s prone body appeared onscreen just as Tyr and Henrik skidded into view. The horde of black blurs battering Forse into unconsciousness rose and merged into one thick mass before charging straight at Tyr. Elsa gasped, and I reached out to squeeze her arm. Running intel during a skirmish sucked. It was like watching your worst nightmare play out, and knowing there was nothing you could do to stop it.
“He’ll be okay, Else,” I assured her.
Elsa sniffled behind me.
Forse lay on the ground, twitching violently, while Henrik took aim with his crossbow and fired. The blurs had merged into a single massive black entity, and while the arrow struck the darkness, the trickle of liquid that oozed from the point of impact didn’t slow it in the slightest. It converged on Tyr, covering him in a dense fog before cinching into a vise at Tyr’s throat. Two strangled cries let out behind me, but I didn’t turn to comfort the girls. Instead I kept my focus on the screen where Tyr swung his sword through the mist as his face morphed from tan, to red, to purple. The thing was squeezing the air from his lungs.
Gods were immortal, sure. But for the Aesir of Asgard, immortality didn’t mean we could live forever. It meant we lived until we were taken out. An object laced with dark magic could debilitate a full-blooded god faster than Mia could whip up her Meemaw’s Mississippi Mud Pie. And since Tyr was only fifty percent Asgardian, his survival odds decreased by half.
The pieces clicked into place. This wasn’t an abduction, or even an invasion. This was an assassination attempt. Whatever those black things were, they were using Freya as the bait to lure Tyr into the open. They knew he’d fight for her, and they knew at some point he’d be vulnerable. Freya and Forse were out of commission. Henrik was scrambling to load his bow. The only thing standing between that thing and the extinction of Asgard’s first line of defense was… was…
“Henrik, drop the bow. Use the vacuum,” I barked. The vacuum was the name Mia and I gave our newest experiment. It looked like a small metal box, but it suctioned repulsive forces that counteracted gravity, aka ‘dark energy,’ and compressed them within a small chamber. It was equally effective on dark matter—the unseen, highly reactive particles generated from the harshest elements of our cosmos. The vacuum would contain the dark elements for up to seventy-two hours before destroying itself and its contents—plenty of time to deliver perps to the prison chamber for questioning.
Henrik threw his crossbow on the ground and dug into the pocket of his cargo pants. He whipped out a small box and turned so his back was to the viewer. I couldn’t see his hands, but I knew the moment he activated the vacuum. He charged at the shadow, arms held high. As he ran, the black mass loosened its hold on Tyr’s neck, allowing the war god to suck in a breath. Henrik reached up to pull the shadow off our friend and it cinched around Tyr again. Its four individual forms retained their singular body as they battled Henrik for dominance. Henrik thrust the vacuum at the shadow, and it shook violently, wrenchi
ng Tyr off the ground and jerking him back and forth. Tyr kept his fingers locked around the blackness squeezing his throat. The defensive measure stabilized his spinal cord, and at the same time it constricted the darkness trying to choke him. His strength must have been the breaking point; with a flash of light the singular black mass broke apart into four individual shadows. Each member was sucked down into the vacuum. The device rattled violently as it absorbed its charges and Henrik opened his hands, letting the box fall to the dirt. Tyr dropped to the ground and stayed very still.
“Skit,” I swore again. “I’ve never seen anything like that. What the Hel did that thing do to Tyr? Elsa, do you think you can heal him? If not, I’m calling Odin for reinforcements, and telling Heimdall to Bifrost Tyr back to the healing unit.”
“I can try.” She exhaled. “No doubt those shadows are filled with dark magic, but I’ve expunged it before.”
“They’d have to be, in order for the vacuum to work. We programmed it so it would only attract the bad stuff. We didn’t want to trap anything with it the dark energy could feed off.” I waited while Henrik ran to Tyr’s side. Freya might have been in more immediate danger, but protocol dictated we ensure the safety of our primary charge before pursuing any secondary threats. Henrik checked Tyr’s vitals, then looked at the birdie with a nod.
“Oh, thank Odin.” I exhaled. “He’s alive. Elsa, turn the birdie on Freya so we can strategize her extraction. Henrik, you’re the only conscious god in the field. Stay with Tyr while Elsa evaluates Freya’s situation.”
A ragged breath reminded me I was failing at my other responsibility.
“Oh, Mia.” I turned around and wrapped my arms around my friend. “I’m sorry. But he’s going to be fine. They didn’t kill him, and Elsa should be able to withdraw the lingering dark magic that’s keeping him from insta-healing.”
“Insta-healing?” Mia’s quivering lip totally undermined the projected brave face.
“Hey, I know it’s scary after last time. But I swear, we’re not going to let anything happen to him. Trust us?” I squatted down so we were eye to eye.