Anything but Ordinary

by Nicola Rhodes

  ‘And that’s why he had to go to Earth to get in,’ said Tamar. ‘Damn clever. I wish I’d thought of that. You’re probably right.’

  ‘It’s just a theory,’ said Slick modestly. ‘We’ve no proof.’

  ‘It makes sense though. But we’re still going to see Odin,’ she added to Slick’s dismay. ‘There are other unanswered questions I want answering.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like what Loki’s got against the Tuatha for one thing. That never made sense to me. And besides, Loki set this trap on purpose, he wants us to go to Valhalla, and I want to know why.’

  ‘But if it’s a trap …’ began Slick alarmed.

  ‘It’s not a trap when you know it’s a trap,’ asserted Tamar. ‘Besides, I told you, I can handle Odin.’

  Slick sighed in resignation. He was learning, as Denny had before him, that there was no use in arguing with Tamar. She never argued back; she just did what she wanted to anyway.

  ‘No more women for you mate,’ he told himself. ‘If I get out of this one alive, I’m becoming a hermit.’

  Then he looked up and saw Valhalla looming above him. The mightiest citadel ever created. They had arrived. His knees began to shake. Tamar was hammering on the immense door like the bailiffs at his neighbour’s flat, after he had run up a vast internet shopping bill. For some reason, this did not make him feel any calmer.

  * * *

  Vidar, under pain of extreme pain (Denny had told him that Stiles would sing until he agreed) had contacted Brynhilde AKA Valerie Byrnehil.

  Brynhilde had been deeply suspicious at first, but had eventually been won around by Denny’s argument. “We’ve got to help Odin to help ourselves.” This selfish point of view was one that she could identify with having lived among the gods, and she had agreed to take them into the heart of Valhalla where all the action was going to be.

  This was not exactly what Denny had had in mind. He had been hoping that they could find Loki and stop him before it got to that. But it turned out that Brynhilde had no idea where Loki was, only where he was going.

  ‘Vehaf lost him,’ she said, ‘he alvays vas von trickster. Von minute there, und then gone. Poof!’ She indicated that he was always disappearing.

  ‘How will you get us into Valhalla?’ asked Stiles, wondering why they did not just use mainframe.

  ‘Ve shall ride of course,’ she said and let out a piercing whistle.

  Immediately there was a sound of thunder in the air. Every head turned upwards and saw only the ceiling; there was a dash to the window, which Denny won and he saw, they all saw… seven flying horses, steered by leather clad, golden braided maidens brandishing swords and singing a stirring but incomprehensible warrior song.

  ‘The Valkyries!’ breathed Ray in awe. ‘Now I’ve seen everything.’

  ‘Not quite everything,’ said Denny amused.

  The Valkyries trotted into the yard and, from this distance, they looked quite normal (apart from their attire of course) as did their horses. Brynhilde went to meet them, and an argument seemed to be developing.

  ‘But zey are not dead Brynhilde.’ Denny heard as he crept closer.

  ‘Und not all of zem are varriors either,’ said another, her lip curling.

  ‘Zey vill all be both before zis day is over,’ Brynhilde assured her.

  ‘Ve carry the slain,’ asserted one in a stubborn voice. ‘These are alive.’

  ‘Are ve going to haf a philosophical discussion now?’ snapped Brynhilde, losing patience.

  ‘No, Brynhilde,’ she was assured by the wide-eyed Valkyrie who looked as if she were not sure what this meant. ‘I just meant zat ze slain are much lighter than ze living, I am not sure zat ze ’orses vill cope. Although zeze varriors are very thin,’ she directed a sneering look at Denny.

  ‘Size doesn’t matter,’ said Denny with a sunny smile.

  ‘It matters to my ’orse,’ snapped the Valkyrie.

  ‘Why don’t we just use the mainframe?’ hissed Stiles in Denny’s private ear.

  ‘Do you want to offend them?’ said Denny jerking a finger at the buxom Brynhilde, who was standing, hands on hips in a manner strongly reminiscent of a pissed off P.E. teacher.

  ‘I see what you mean,’ said Stiles.

  ‘We need their help, I think.’

  ‘Not as much as they need ours,’ Stiles pointed out.

  ‘They can take us straight to Odin, no messing. We don’t have time to piss about in mainframe really. Not this time.’

  ‘You vill ride vis me,’ ordered Brynhilde bossily, taking Denny firmly by the arm.

  Stiles smothered a laugh. What was it with Denny anyway? He was turning into Captain Kirk or something. It was that little boy lost thing, he thought without a trace of envy. No woman was safe. No, that was not true – ordinary women still tended to look straight through him, it was only magical women who went for Denny (except for his Hecaté, of course who tended to treat Denny as a favourite nephew. He gave her an affectionate look; she was also looking amused he noticed.) Cindy was a case in point; the thought cast a shadow over the bright afternoon. What would become of her now?

  There was no time to worry about that now. He dismissed the thought as he was helped onto the back of a rather large looking horse, now that he came to see it up close. It twitched its flanks as he mounted behind the sneering Valkyrie and took off almost before he had settled down. He grabbed helplessly at the Valkyrie’s waist with a muttered apology for this familiarity, but the Valkyrie ignored him as if she were used to this happening.

  He could see Brynhilde with Denny riding behind her; they were up in the lead, of course. It was difficult to tell, but it seemed as if Denny was enjoying the ride. He always did like going fast with the wind in his hair. Stiles had to keep reminding himself not to look down. Behind him, he heard a whoop of joy that sounded like it might have come from Ray. Christ – was he the only one not enjoying this?

  Hecaté, with customary grace, had leapt lightly onto the proffered horse as if she had been doing it all her life. She waved reassuringly at him as they passed. Stiles gave her a strangled grin and held on for dear life.

  Denny was finding the whole experience exhilarating. A devotee of fast cars and motorbikes, this was, for him, the ultimate joyride. And hey, to ride with the Valkyries, that would be one to tell the grandchildren.

  ‘Da, da, da, da, daa. Da, da, da, da daa.’*

  *[This, in case it is not clear, is a vain attempt to represent Denny humming “The Ride Of The Valkyries” By Wagner. ]

  ‘I hate zat song,’ Brynhilde admonished him.

  ‘How about Stairway to Heaven?’ asked Denny cheekily.

  ‘How does zat go?’

  Denny rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve never heard “Stairway to Heaven”?’ he said disbelievingly, and started to hum the opening bars.

  * * *

  ‘Well. It’s about time you arrived. Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you? Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you here?’

  Tamar gave Odin a neutral look. The one that made Slick very nervous. ‘None?’ she suggested.

  Odin glared at the handmaidens that had ushered Tamar and Slick into the grand throne room where Odin had been awaiting them. It was a monument to pure tastelessness, Slick noted even through his terror. Golden walls, the whole bit. The handmaidens scattered, and Odin resumed his benign expression, as if replacing a mask, and tried hard to pretend that he was unaware of the raven on his left shoulder pecking determinedly at his ear.

  ‘Ha! Well you’re just in time anyway. Er, it’s just the two of you then?’ he asked, looking over Slick’s shoulder in a distracted way.

  ‘Is that a problem?’ said Tamar menacingly.

  Slick frowned in puzzlement. Odin was talking as if he had been expecting them.

  ‘No, not really, as long as you’re here.’ said Odin. ‘It’s just that I heard that you travel in a pack these days. Is this your husband that I’ve been hearing about?’

&nb
sp; ‘No.’

  Behind her Slick blushed bright red, which did not escape Odin’s notice.

  ‘Oh well, I won’t say a word,’ Odin told her conspiratorially and gave her a huge wink.

  Tamar just gave him a blank stare. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something funny was going on here. She signed to Slick to say nothing. Let them talk, Stiles always said. Never let them know that you have no idea what’s going on. That way, they’ll tell you everything you want to know, and more besides.

  ‘Cold as a mountain top,’ muttered Odin, looking away from the stare.

  ‘Anyway,’ he resumed. ‘Lots to do, Loki will be here soon, and Ragnoroc cannot be far behind eh? What’s the plan?’

  ‘Er?’

  ‘Well, well, you never were much of a one for the forward planning I suppose. You can help us though, can’t you? I mean I had hoped that you would stop Loki before it came to this, but I suppose you can’t fight mythology. As soon as Loki escaped, we knew that he would gather the Giants for Ragnoroc. Is something wrong?’

  Tamar put her face straight. ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘What a pity you didn’t sort out Fenrir when you had the chance. But I suppose you know what you’re doing. I mean, ha, ha, you certainly aren’t going to let him get away with it are you?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Tamar firmly, without any idea what she was agreeing to.

  ‘I knew you’d come, even though you don’t like me much.’ He held up a hand to silence her protests, even though she had not opened her mouth. ‘No, no,’ he said. ‘I always knew you weren’t keen on me. I can’t say I blame you really. I’m a bastard. I know it. But after all, if Loki wins its curtains for Midgard too, once Fenrir swallows the sun. – Damn the thing.’ This last was aimed at the raven; he had finally given up his pretence at indifference and he grabbed the raven, which squawked indignantly, waking the other raven, sending them both flapping agitatedly around the hall.

  ‘Midgard?’ interjected Slick, swallowing a snort of laughter.

  ‘Earth,’ said Tamar. ‘Where’s Thor?’ she asked Odin. She had adjusted to the new situation quickly as she always did. So, she had been lied to and tricked, played for a fool and generally messed about. So, she had reached this point by an entirely spurious route. So, there were still a lot of unanswered questions. So, what else was new? Tamar, quick thinking and impulsive, always faced the situation in front of her and dealt with it. The past was irrelevant. The fact was, that here and now, Loki was on his way to Valhalla with the “Giants” (presumably the Tuatha – oh, she had been fooled) and Fenrir (who had clearly been lying from the start) and she had to find a way to deal with it or it was, as Odin so eloquently put it “curtains” for the Earth.

  ‘Thor?’ echoed Odin. ‘He’s upstairs, polishing his hammer, ready for battle you know.’

  ‘Get him,’ she ordered. She did not really want to see Thor, who was uncomfortably like Hogswill the Hairy backed – a drunken Viking that she had been enslaved to and whom she had no desire to be reminded of. But she needed time to think.

  ‘I shall send for …’ Odin raised his head, listening. ‘They’re here!’ he ran to the window in a panic.

  There was a thunderous sound outside, getting closer. Bloodcurdling shouts filled the air. ‘Ah, it’s only the Valkyries,’ said Odin in a relieved tone. ‘What on Asgard is that they are singing?’

  Tamar shoved him aside and looked. A broad smile spread over her face. ‘It’s Denny,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ said Slick beside her now and straining his eyes to see. ‘Even you can’t possibly see that from this distance,’

  ‘No,’ Tamar grinned in delight. ‘But I can hear. Only Denny could get the Valkyries singing “Stairway to Heaven”.’

  ~ Chapter Sixteen ~

  ‘Tamar!’ Denny ran toward her and crushed her in his arms. ‘Thank God!’

  Tamar returned the embrace laughing as she did so. ‘When are you going to learn,’ she said into his hair, ‘that you don’t need to worry about me?’

  He held her away from him and gave her a baffled look. ‘Never,’ he said.

  And Tamar felt suddenly as if she were being drowned in golden sunshine.

  Slick nudged Ray and pointed to the look on her face. ‘Looks like a bad case of the warm and fuzzies,’ he said.

  The hall was now fairly full. There were the Valkyries of course, standing in formation like rock n’ roll cheerleaders. Vidar had gone to kneel before Odin, leaving Ray and Dawber wondering if they should be doing the same.

  Slick had no such qualms. Watching Tamar bossing Odin about like a naughty schoolboy had greatly diminished the awe of his presence, and such a thought never even occurred to Stiles. Hecaté considered herself at least his equal, and Denny, as yet, had not even noticed him.

  ‘You have done well,’ Odin was heard to say to Vidar, drawing a derisive snort from Denny.

  ‘And you must be the husband?’ said Odin, looking up in surprise at this noise.

  ‘Introductions later,’ said Denny, ‘if we’re all still alive. Loki’s right behind us.’ he looked questioningly at Tamar who nodded to indicate that she knew all about it.

  ‘Right,’ he said, apparently apropos of nothing. ‘Got any ideas?’ he asked her.

  ‘Fight,’ said Tamar succinctly.

  ‘WE WILL FIGHT!’ came a thunderous voice that shook the room. Everyone turned to see a massive figure standing in the doorway swinging a massive hammer.

  ‘Hello Thor,’ said Tamar without enthusiasm.

  ‘Djinn,’ he acknowledged her with a dismissive grunt. Denny went red with fury at this, but Tamar restrained him. ‘He doesn’t know any better,’ she said placatingly.

  ‘Father,’ he nodded brusquely at Odin

  ‘See?’ said Tamar. ‘The same to everyone. He doesn’t mean anything by it.’

  Now the other gods were filing into the hall in a silent procession. One by one, as the visitors watched in fascination, they stood before Odin, bowed and moved on to stand together on the other side of the throne.

  When this was over, Thor addressed them. ‘BATTLE!’ he bellowed.

  And the reply came back. ‘BATTLE!’

  ‘BATTLE!’ repeated Thor even louder than before, brandishing his hammer wildly.

  ‘BATTLE’ returned the assembled gods banging their weapons on the floor. ‘BATTLE, BATTLE, BATTLE, BATTLE …’ they chanted in rhythm with the banging.

  ‘Oh brother!’ said Denny, as the noise rose to a crescendo.

  Then the skies over Asgard flickered as if a bird had flown across the sun, and then went dark. The noise ceased abruptly as if all sound, as well as light, had been sucked from the world, and Valhalla stood in a vacuum of silence and darkness. No one moved, even the pennants on the battlements stopped fluttering. The whole world was frozen in a moment of time that simultaneously lasted forever and went by in instant.

  ‘Oh, no,’ breathed Tamar. She alone had seen this before – long ago. She alone knew what it meant. And she thought of the collective power of the Tuatha and their magical hosts, gathered outside the doors of Valhalla.

  The light over Asgard would never shine again. It was over.

  There was more than Loki behind this; he was only the instrument. This was destiny, unstoppable and inexorable. The time of the Norse gods had finally come. They had cheated their fate long enough.

  So, it had been for the Greek gods. Long ago, she had seen this darkness fall over Mount Olympus. The file was being erased, and they were all stuck inside.

  She became aware of the sounds of battle going on all around her, overlaying the stillness and silence. She saw herself fighting desperately for her life, while she stood calmly by and watched in a detached way

  ‘Of course,’ she realised, both were true. That this battle would go on forever for the participants, but also, that nothing would ever happen here again. With a kind of cold horror, she understood that she was watching, from the inside, a file of mythology be
coming a disused file. A file containing a thing that had never happened. In a distant kind of way, she remembered explaining this phenomenon to Denny shortly after they had first met. It had not seemed so bad then. But then she had not been the one being erased forever.

  How had she escaped before? She did not know, could not remember, but she dimly understood that in those days, as a Djinn, she had been a file all by herself. That was no longer true; she had joined the world – because of Denny. There would be no escape this time.

  ‘So, how it that she could see what was happening, as an observer as well as a participant? She was not supposed to be here. But then, neither were Denny and her friends.

  That was a point, why were they here? Superficially, they were here because Loki had manipulated things, through Fenrir, in order to draw them into Ragnoroc. Odin might have also been behind some of it. They undoubtedly had their reasons, or thought they did. Loki had certainly never liked Tamar much. Dragging her into the Twilight of the gods might have only been his idea of a joke. He had had a twisted sense of humour at the best of times, and several thousand years of torture had probably twisted it even further.

  The truth was, though, that the file clerks in mainframe were behind this.

  The Norse Gods had escaped their fate the first time around. While the Greeks, Egyptians, Mayans etc were all discarding their old belief systems, and their gods were relegated to the ignominy of the deleted files of fiction, the Norse gods had managed to hang on somehow. Ragnoroc had been averted the first time around, and the gods of Asgard had been a thorn in the side of the tidy minded clerks ever since. Much like the Djinn had once been.

  So, had the clerks finally had enough of Tamar and Denny messing around with things that did not concern them and decided to finish them off once and for all? The idea had a certain poetic justice about it, she had to admit. Their own predilection for intervening in things that were not their business, used against them. And the clerks would know that they would not be able to resist interfering in this one.