by Holly Lisle
And he thought of Kerras, upworld, dead and dark and burned and frozen. He could hide there while he thought. While he reassessed and planned and figured. He'd make a bubble for himself, a bit of air, a bit of warmth. He'd be fine. And no one would look for him on Kerras—the gods both old and dark had abandoned that world.
Rr'garn's Cliff, Oria—Baanraak of Master's Gold
Baanraak, free of doubt and despair since this last resurrection, slipped through the air silently; he circled the spot where Rr'garn, head of Oria's rrôn contingent of the Night Watch, curled atop his cliff. Rr'garn wasn't asleep, for the dark gods did not sleep. But he was resting his eyes, and trotting through his busy, noisy little mind all the triumphs he planned for himself when he overthrew Aril and became Master of the Night Watch. The destruction of the keth, the elevation of the rrôn, the shaming of Trrtrag, who as his second in command showed too much ability and not enough obeisance.
Ahh. Thank you, Rr'garn. I had forgotten about Trrtrag.
Baanraak listened further, still circling, and was pleased to find that Trrtrag actually kept watch, not assuming that he was big enough or fearsome enough to be immune from attack. His mind was quiet—not quiet enough, but Baanraak found something workable in him. He might make something of Trrtrag. Rr'garn was worthless.
I have need of you, Baanraak whispered into Trrtrag's mind. He felt the other rrôn start inside, but that inner surprise did not result in any outward movement. Good. Trrtrag's hunting instincts remained keen.
Who are you?
Baanraak didn't choose to give that bit of information yet. Instead, he said, Still your mind and release your own thoughts—and let Rr'garn's thoughts flow into you.
Trrtrag, curious, maintained his watch but managed to comply. Baanraak found the moment that Trrtrag discovered his way into Rr'garn's fantasies amusing; Trrtrag was not amused.
I have come to claim what is mine, Baanraak said. I choose you as my second.
If I destroy that double-crossing bastard, I can be first, Trrtrag noted, reasonably enough, considering the circumstances.
Baanraak circled overhead, patient. Patience was, in the right time and the right situation, a wonderful virtue. If you then survive me, he said.
And who are you, that I should fear you?
Baanraak.
Second will be fine, Trrtrag assured him with not even a second's hesitation.
Baanraak spiraled in. Be ready.
He dropped on top of Rr'garn without making a single sound, and slashed Rr'garn's head off with one clean swipe of talons and a neat rip-and-twist.
Trrtrag, in the darkness at the south end of the cliff, jumped at the sight of Rr'garn's head flying past him, and twisted around.
"Call in the wing," Baanraak told him, making himself visible for the first time. "We're taking back the Mastery."
Trrtrag tipped back his head and bellowed the long, deep, booming call of summons. After far too long, Baanraak started hearing wingbeats in the night—too loud, too slow, too sloppy. Rr'garn might have dreamed of taking the Mastery, but he had no idea how to hone his troops, or how to inspire them, or how to use them. He mistook noise and presence for threat.
Baanraak knew better. He faded back to invisibility and kept to the back of Trrtrag's mind. Let them come in. Let them see that Rr'garn is dead. Be ready.
I'm ready, Trrtrag assured him.
He might be. He wasn't the pompous, boasting fool Rr'garn had been. But then, why had he satisfied himself with the second's place? Did he lack ambition? Was he loyal? Either of those would be a benefit to Baanraak. Or was he simply lazy?
The rrôn straggled in, one and two at a time. They had not been far away but had felt no reason to hurry.
As they came, they saw Rr'garn. They eyed Trrtrag, and one asked, "Are you declaring yourself, then?" and another simply laughed and muttered, "Well, that's a step in the right direction."
One, though, turned to Trrtrag and without word or warning leapt on him, jaws gaping, claws extended. Baanraak had been following the noisy thoughts, and knew before the fool jumped what he would do and how he would do it. Trrtrag responded with satisfactory speed and viciousness, but Baanraak did not wish to have Trrtrag make the kill. Instead, he moved in and neatly slaughtered the ambitious rrôn.
With his example made, he let them see him for the first time. "I am Baanraak," he said, and froze all of them in place. "You are my wing now. We fly for the Hub tomorrow—between now and then, you'll start learning my way of doing things." He nodded to Trrtrag. "Destroy their rings."
He felt their fear deepen. He knew of some of the dark gods who disciplined by death. He was not one of them. Those who failed him in any significant way failed permanently. In Rr'garn he had found nothing worth saving. In the second rrôn he'd killed, he had found treachery and a scheming personality that did not suit him. These others had an opportunity to prove their worth—but the same opportunity would be before them daily for as long as they served him. He rewarded excellence as well as he punished failure, however. That—well…that they would get to see on the morrow.
Cat Creek, North Carolina
"We have to do something about you," Heyr said.
Lauren looked up at him, standing on her porch waiting for her to let him in the door. He'd saved her life. She didn't trust him. What did that say about her?
Warily, she invited him back in. Jake grinned at him, which was something. Jake didn't like strangers.
"It's pretty late for a visit," she told Heyr.
"I've been watching over you most of the day. I figured I'd come and talk to you when you got back up."
She headed back to the kitchen with Jake dawdling behind her to smile up at Heyr. That was so unlike Jake.
"I'm making Jake and me a late dinner. If you want something to eat, I'll add extra for you."
"Thank you. That would be just fine." Heyr took a seat at the table in one of her old chairs, and the chair creaked when he sat down. Lauren hoped he didn't see her wince.
She sliced fresh broccoli, then cubed potatoes and carrots, and diced two onions. She dropped a couple of bouillon cubes into the water at the bottom of the steamer, and put all the vegetables in the top. Then she went over to sit down at the table with Heyr.
He was eyeing her strangely. "Where's the rest of the meal?"
"There's a nice loaf of Italian bread in the oven, brushed with olive oil and fresh crushed garlic and a little salt. It's heating up now—you won't be able to smell it for a few minutes, though."
"I wasn't talking about bread. Where's the rest of the meal?"
"That's it—steamed vegetables, garlic bread, maybe a little vegan ice cream for dessert. Why?"
"There's no meat in that meal."
"Nor will there be. When I have a choice, I don't eat meat."
He looked at her. "I'm a Viking god, dear. A warrior. I eat meat and bread, and I drink beer. Vegetables are for farm animals."
She rested her chin on a hand and said, "That doesn't work with me, Heyr. I know what you are because I'm the same thing. You aren't a Viking god. You're a guy from upworld. What you might be underneath the human skin, I don't know—"
"I'm as human as you are."
"Doesn't matter. If you liked the Viking lifestyle, that's fine, but I'm not a Viking. I don't have any meat in the house, and I'm not going to get some tonight. It makes the place smell. Sorry."
"You're a warrior. Your son is a warrior—already he has the warrior's eye and the warrior's heart. A warrior's blood needs meat."
Jake looked at Heyr and corrected him. "I'm a superhero."
Heyr grinned at him. "Same thing, kid."
Lauren sighed. "I'm not having this discussion again. Move on. Why are you here?"
Heyr started to argue with her, but Lauren narrowed her eyes and he backed off. "Because…by Freya's eyes, you're lovely when you're angry. You are as fierce and as fair as any Valkyrie. I thought it when I fought the rrôn beside you, but…oh, Lauren."
No, she thought, but just telling herself no didn't help. She could feel a tension in the air between them, an almost supernatural electricity. She could envision the two of them in bed, hot and sweaty and hungry—
Lauren blinked and caught her breath. "Stop it," she said. "Turn off the lust magic right now or I'm kicking you out the door, and whatever you actually came here to tell me can just go to hell, and you with it."
He looked shocked. "You could tell?"
She raised an eyebrow in query.
"That I was using magic on you…you could tell?" He frowned. "Betty Kay couldn't tell. Neither could Louisa."
Lauren's eyebrows shot up. "Betty Kay…and Louisa? You've…ummm…"
"Yes," he said, and grinned a little. "Quite a few times. It…eases various pains. Mine, theirs, the Sentinels'. Louisa, for example, is half the harridan she was. Her I consider a public service. Betty Kay is"—his eyes sparkled—"surprised. And Darlene will be."
He frowned again. "But you could tell."
Lauren hadn't actually noticed the magic. But she knew she didn't have any desire to go to bed with Heyr. "I could tell."
He looked pensive. "That's never happened to me before."
She resisted the urge to tell him, "It happens to everyone sooner or later." She would have found it funny, but she wasn't sure he would. Instead, she said, "Forget it. Why did you really come here?"
She might as well not have said anything. "Women have always found me irresistible."
"Well, yes…when you cheat."
"No, no. Nothing of the sort. I have never forced anyone or tricked anyone. I only give the smallest suggestion that I would like to be with them. I let them know I'm thinking what they're thinking."
"And you've never been turned down before."
"Never so quickly, or with so much vehemence. Never by someone who realized what I was doing."
"Yes, well. I'm as interested in your sex life as I am in your dietary preferences, which is to say, I'm not. Why are you here?"
"I intend to live with you. Which is why it would have worked better if you and I shared a…passion."
Lauren leaned back in her chair and stared at him. And she burst out laughing. "You intend to live with me? Just like that!"
"Not because I am so drawn to you, but because you need me."
"Heyr, I'm not sleeping with you, and I'm not living with you—though if you thought I was going to take you in, I could see why you made an issue about what I cooked for dinner. I don't know what you have running through that head of yours, but you need to take it outside and walk it on a leash, boy."
But Heyr looked determined. "You can't let the Sentinels stand watch over you. Not as they are now. Later…maybe. We'll see. But right now, they haven't the skills and they haven't the magic to protect you from whatever the Night Watch will throw at you and your son. But I do. And you cannot be allowed to die. Yours is the magic that has started bringing life back to this world. And this world must be saved."
Lauren sat and studied him. "I agree with you. But…I have to ask this. Why are you making your stand here? You've seen a lot of other worlds die, right?"
Heyr nodded.
"So why dig in and fight for this one? You've always been known as a champion of mankind—but the other Æsir aren't. Why are you so gung-ho on Earth and humans?"
He sighed. "Because I believe this is the last of the human worlds."
Lauren tipped her head. "The human worlds? Plural?"
Heyr nodded. "As I told you, I'm human. As human as you are. I have not taken a strange form to fit in here. I put on the guise of Thor when I must command, but"—he spread his arms wide—"this is me. I can father human children without magic—and have done so many times. My Earth children, and the Earth children of the other Æsir, and the other human upworlders still have some facility with magic. But they are purely human. They do not have to struggle to figure out where they fit in this world, as your sister must here or in her other world of Oria. They belong here." He looked at her, and his eyes were sad and haunted. "This is the last place I can find that I could call home. The other Æsir believe that farther down the line there will be other human worlds. I do not."
"Why?" Lauren found that she was interested in spite of herself.
"Because many worlds up the chain, where I was born, there was a cluster of human worlds. My world was Opfann, also called Asgard. Right below it on the chain was Lopei, and below that was Middling Ground. All three were human worlds—so when the dark gods destroyed Opfann and those of us who could escape moved to Lopei, everything was very much the same. We fit in, though we had power. We belonged…and when the dark gods took Lopei, Middling Ground was the same. Human. We had never felt any need to explore farther down the chain. We thought the dark gods were demons of some sort—aberrations—and that all worlds were human worlds. But then the next world was M'war, and it was not human—not by any stretch of the imagination. So we took what we could and began a downward trek. Four worlds down from Middling Ground, we found Tripwoll, which was human. But now we had seen that we were not alone, and that the dark gods were not aberrations. So some of us hunted farther downworld, to see where we might find more of our people."
The oven alarm went off, and Lauren remembered that her dinner was cooking. She jumped up and pulled the garlic bread from the oven, then checked the vegetables—they'd gotten a bit softer than she preferred, but they weren't yet mushy.
She quickly put the food onto plates and served it. She and Jake dug in, and Heyr looked at his meal of vegetables and bread and a big glass of water, and sighed. But he ate.
Lauren settled back into her seat. "So what did you find?"
"The next human world was Raven. Eleven worlds down from Tripwoll."
"And beyond that?"
"Here. Nineteen worlds down from Tripwoll."
Lauren closed her eyes. "One, one, one, four, eleven, nineteen. Is that a mathematical sequence? Has anyone looked at it that way to see if they could predict the recurrence of human worlds farther down the line?"
He gave her a quick, approving grin. "We did, eventually, but it wasn't the first thing we thought of. The one you note, by the way, is one of the two possible sequences. The other sequence is one, two, three, seven, eighteen, thirty-seven—which is each world's position relative to Opfann, the first known human world."
Lauren ate and thought. After a minute, she said, "The fact that there is a first known human world makes it pretty likely that there would be a last one as well."
"It does, and that is the conclusion I finally came to. That this world is humanity's last stand, and if we lose it, we lose not just our entire species but everything humankind has done. Art and architecture, science and music, literature and humor, history and law. It stops here. Which is why I've stopped here. I will not leave Earth—if this planet falls, I go with it. Loki is the same, though for other reasons. He's simply trapped here, though being trapped without choice has created a degree of loyalty in him that no amount of reason ever managed."
Lauren considered that. "I'd never even imagined that there had ever been other human worlds. Does this mean there are other rrôn worlds? Other keth worlds?"
"Not that I know of. But they might have had many worlds of their own up the chain." Heyr shrugged. "I could go to Oria. The veyâr at least have a human sense of passion and an interest in the arts and sciences. They're comprehensible. But…I have no wish to live out the rest of eternity wrapped in alien flesh. Here—here I can have a home and a woman and good honest work, wearing my own skin. I can go about my business day to day without wondering if anyone has noticed that I'm not quite right. I do not have to worry that I have somehow betrayed myself, or that my neighbors, grown suspicious of me and what I am, will creep into my ho
use at night to try to kill me."
"I suppose that depends on your neighborhood as much as anything, but I do understand."
"Perhaps you understand intellectually. But I have arisen each morning to look in the mirror and see the face of a stranger looking back at me. I have lived on worlds not my own. The call of 'same' becomes very strong, Lauren. We begin to cry out for people like us. We want to understand and be understood, to know that we belong. And this is the last world where we belong."
Lauren tried to imagine looking into a mirror and having something green with horns look back at her. She tried to imagine having to make Jake over into a veyâr replica, or a goroth replica, or…something else. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. "I see."