Ragnarok: I Bring the Fire Part VI (Loki Vowed Asgard Would Burn)

by C. Gockel

  “It’s ready,” she says.

  “So are we,” says Beatrice.

  Rush nods.

  Amy gives them a description of everything she just saw, opens the World Gate, and seconds later there is a flash of rainbow light as her grandmother and Rush dart through to Asgard. Remaining in Hoenir’s hut, Amy takes a step back and a deep breath. Even though she can’t be killed, she can be injured, and if she’s hurt she can’t help Bohdi.

  The kitchen door creaks, and she jumps. Spinning around, she finds herself face to face with Daevas. He stares at her, as though surprised to find her. For a moment her heart stops. Then gulping, she says, “I’ll run through the World Gate I made right here and get myself mangled if you take one step closer ... and then I have no idea when I can help you.”

  The adze’s jaw twitches. Fenrir bursts through the door behind him, Mr. Squeakers perched on her ear. Behind Amy comes the sound of claws on the concrete pen floor, and she hears a chorus of velociraptor screams. The metal pen creaks and groans as the animals rush the bars, shaking and hissing at Fenrir and Daevas.

  The adze’s eyes stay focused on hers. “What do you want me to do?” he asks.

  Amy gulps. “Be prepared to open the World Gate.” She looks back at the velociraptors. “And let these guys out if we need, errr … claw power.”

  The adze looks past Amy’s shoulder. “Are those large turkeys?”

  Close enough. “Yes, but carnivorous,” Amy says.

  The adze licks his lips. “Your … pets?”

  “No, they’re not really domesticated,” Amy says, brushing some raptor spittle off her cheek.

  Daevas licks his lips again, eyes still on the raptors. Amy doesn’t have time to think on it. “Fenrir, Squeakers, will you come with me? It will be dangerous and —”

  Fenrir’s at her side a moment later, giving her a swipe with a tongue that smells suspiciously like green sausages. Amy pats the supplies she’s put into the front pocket of the velociraptor-hide apron she wears, and then puts her arm around the giant dog, buries her head in the fur at Fenrir’s shoulder, squeezes the bullet she has in her hand tighter and says, “Okay, here we go.”

  There is the flash of rainbow light and then Amy is back in the tunnel beneath the wall facing the portcullis. Through its metal bars she can see the streets of the city proper. Rush and Beatrice are behind her, firing their M4s intermittently. She turns and her jaw drops. In the field of the World Gates—the Einherjar have been mowed down like blades of grass. “I guess the magic bullets work,” she whispers. Plasma fire streaks just above her shoulder. Not everyone has been mowed down.

  “Amy, get in here!” Beatrice shouts.

  Amy dashes into the custom house with Beatrice. Fenrir stuffs all but her tail into the custom house behind Rush.

  Eyes steady on the Center, despite the large dog panting over his shoulder, Rush shouts, “There are still guys taking cover on the wall. If you run out there, you’ll be down in an instant.”

  As if to punctuate his words, a blast of plasma hits Fenrir’s tail, and the dog whines.

  Amy gulps and Beatrice looks up at her. “Don’t you even think about it, Amy. Their plasma blasts would melt your skin and then you wouldn’t be able to move and—”

  “I know,” Amy says. Biting her lip, she looks out to the dais. There are two mages there, firing plasma blasts. “But I have to get to Bohdi before his body is too cold.”

  Rush uses a little mirror thingy mounted to his M4 to peer outside of the custom house window and around the corner. “There are stairs to the top of the wall on the World Gate side. If I can get up there, I may be able to take those guys out one by one. Cover me, old woman?”

  “I prefer grandmother,” Beatrice snaps. “Yes, I can cover you.”

  “Do you have enough bullets to take out all the guards on the wall?” Amy asks.

  “No,” says Rush.

  “Amy,” Beatrice says, “I know you don’t want to hear this—”

  “Then don’t say it!” snaps Amy. Could she set the velociraptors loose on top of the wall? She bites her lip—they’d probably run out and eat Bohdi first thing.

  She looks out at the platform. Could she go back to Hoenir’s hut and make another gate directly to his body? She winces. Bohdi’s head is too far from his body—she’d have to make two gates—but could she with the mages there? She bites her lip. No, they may not be able to create World Gates, or destroy them, but they can keep them closed.

  She puts her hand to her mouth. Could this situation get any worse?

  From the city side of the tunnel she hears the stomp of feet. Plasma fire whips past them from the tunnel’s other side, Rush shouts, and Fenrir whines.

  Amy looks around the corner. On the other side of the portcullis that blocks the street, the street is packed with troops … and the portcullis is rising.

  Rush shouts, “We can all make a break for the wall!”

  Beatrice snaps back, “We’ll be killed and Amy will be captured. Amy will create a World Gate right here, and then I’ll cover you and Fenrir while you get your butts across the tunnel and through it.”

  More plasma fire streaks in from both directions. Amy has no idea if Rush heard because he doesn’t respond. She looks frantically from the Center to the city. The portcullis is rising very slowly, inch by painful inch. It’s only a foot above the ground, but soon it will be high enough for the troops on the other side to enter.

  She wishes desperately for a miracle. And then in her ear, her radio cracks. She’d forgotten it was even there. She taps it and hears Steve’s voice. “This is Captain Steve Rogers; human forces, please identify yourselves.”

  “Steve!” Amy shouts, hope flaring in her chest. “Where are you? Who’s with you?”

  Steve replies with a voice so calm it borders on infuriating. “The SEAL team that came to rescue me. I’m with them, Gerðr, two dozen friendly Fire Giants, and a few members of the Asgardian resistance.”

  Amy gulps. He didn’t mention Sigyn or Valli. “Do you have any magical weapons?” she asks hopefully.

  “Negative,” Steve responds. “Valli’s location is unknown.”

  Gerðr voice cracks on the line. “You have me! I can make myself invisible, slip between their ranks and order them to remove their helmets. Then you could fire.”

  Larson’s voice snaps on the line. “You’ll be downed by their snipers before you get that far.”

  Amy’s brow furrows. The SEAL team isn’t the miracle. It is more people for her to save, and she doesn’t know where they are so she can’t create a World Gate to them.

  At just that moment, the portcullis between the city and the tunnel begins to rise with alarming speed. A few troops try to slip in, but Beatrice spins and quickly fells them. “Amy, we have to leave now! Rush, Fenrir, be prepared to get over here!”

  “No!” Rush shouts, “I’m staying to help the team.”

  “Amy!” Beatrice cries.

  “Steve, where are you?” Amy says, trying to stay as calm as he is. Maybe if it’s a place Loki remembers, she can create a World Gate from Hoenir’s hut to that point.

  “Get going if you can, Lewis,” Steve responds, voice cracking on the line. “Odin wants you too much. The disorder in the city may be keeping him away, but he’ll be here soon.”

  “I need to know so I can save you!” Amy cries back.

  “There’s too many! I can’t stop them!” Beatrice says. Amy looks up and sees the Einherjar, despite the gunfire, are starting to stoop beneath the still-rising portcullis and enter the tunnel beneath the wall.

  Beatrice’s M4 must run out of ammo, because she starts fumbling for her Glock. In that split second, one of the Einherjar rushes Amy. She hears Mr. Squeaker’s squeak, the man reaches toward her—and then he falls back trying to pull up his helmet.

  “Amy, we have to leave!” Beatrice says, firing her Glock over Amy’s shoulder. Amy knows she’s right. She looks back to Bohdi, and then to the rising portcullis.
Maybe she can just send them back to Hoenir’s hut, and then come back and try to save Bohdi and the team all by herself.

  “If you can go, save yourself,” Steve commands.

  “Amy!” Beatrice roars.

  “No, Lewis!” Rush says, “Don’t do it.”

  Amy gulps, and the world drops into shadow. For a moment, Amy thinks that the mages by the dais have concocted some horrible plan to trap them. And then she hears a roar of thunder.

  Amy glances toward the Center and sees Sleipnir standing on the World Gate that leads to Niflheim. On his back, clutching what looks like lightning in her hand, is Claire.

  With a roar, Claire throws the lightning through the tunnel at the flood of Einherjar. Amy’s eyes widen. It’s not lightning she throws—it’s Thor’s hammer! The magical weapon sparks, sends Einherjar toppling over, and then leaps back into Claire’s hand before Amy can blink.

  The mages scream in what sounds like shock. They raise their plasma shooting spears and fire, but Sleipnir has already slipped through time and disappeared—literally. Amy blinks again and sees the mages lying on the ground, unconscious or dead. Amy hears a scream from the top of the wall and sees men toppling to the ground, as though pushed by an invisible force.

  Her mouth gapes. In Chicago, before Bohdi and Amy had freed Sleipnir, the warhorse had disarmed the Einherjar warriors trying to reclaim him by slipping through time. As she looks up, she sees two dark shapes in the sky. Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s raven messengers—they fly away before she can even mention them to Beatrice or Rush. She grits her teeth. In a few minutes, Odin will know what’s going on here.

  Amy looks back at the tunnel, empty but for a few stragglers. To Rush, she shouts, “Give the team cover and get them into the field. Then close the inner portcullis and I’ll set the raptors free! I’m going to save Bohdi.”

  At those words she squeezes the bullet, envisions Hoenir’s hut … and for a moment nothing happens. She squeezes the bullet tighter, closes her eyes, bows her head, and feels the familiar rush of magic. Feeling unusually breathless, exhausted, and hungry, she opens her eyes and stares down at her hand. The bullet is losing its magical charge. Thrusting it back into her pocket, she pulls out another. She concentrates, sees the familiar rainbow colors, and lifts her head. What she sees nearly makes her drop the other bullet. Daevas is sitting on a raptor carcass, holding what looks like a giant raw drumstick in his hands, his face and torso splattered with blood and feathers. The other raptors are head butting him playfully, as though he is one of their own—because he now smells like one of their own, she realizes.

  Fluttering his wings, Daevas blinks his lashless eyelids at her. “These birds are much dumber than turkeys, but not as tasty.”

  Swallowing her surprise, Amy says, “Get over to Asgard, and be ready to set them free!”

  Squeezing the new bullet, she pictures the dais in Asgard, pushes through the empty air, and emerges inches away from Bohdi’s head. She wants to cry at the sight of his open eyes, parted lips, and the dull color that has crept into his skin but she doesn’t—instead she picks it up, and runs to his body, chanting, “Hold on, Bohdi, I’m coming!”

  x x x x

  Bohdi is slipping up above the city again. He’s not sure why he heard Amy. Maybe it was just the desire to see her? He feels his consciousness begin to spread outward again. In the orchard, Odin is defending a woman dressed in the garb of Asgardian servant, a child in her arms. Slicing through the bodies of Fire Giants, Odin orders his Einherjar to defend the city … but it’s too late. The city is in flames, and the golden spires are flickering like a television with reception problems. In an alley off one of the main streets, Valli is leading a mob against a flock of Valkyries. Elsewhere, Fire Giants are roaming in gangs and alone, setting houses and homes alight. Here and there, pockets of Einherjar are trying to drive back the chaos, but the only place they’re having any success is at the entrance to Odin’s palace.

  Chaos and destruction are everywhere. That happened the last time he left his body—the heart of Chicago was nearly destroyed. Is it because Chaos isn’t confined? That can’t be right; there has been plenty of Chaos without him changing form. But this Chaos is on all the realms, he’d seen that with Heimdall. Maybe when Chaos is restrained it explodes? Bohdi is exploding. He’s not really Bohdi anymore; he’s Loki, Luthor, Tiamat, Yuki Onna, Lopt, and so many others. He’s moving out and up, the stars are calling, and he wants to go.

  But then he hears Amy’s voice. “Hold on, Bohdi, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  And he’s crashing back down through the stratosphere. Asgard rushes toward him, he passes through a cloud and finds himself several hundred meters above the Center. The city is filled with smoke, and he sees what looks like a regiment of warriors from the city about to flood through the Center’s gate onto the great plain where his body is. Before they can enter, though, velociraptors pour out into the city from beneath the Center’s wall. Heedless of the plasma blasts, the beasts race from beneath the Center’s grace wall, more and more piling through. They fling themselves on the Einherjar. Grasping the warriors with their hind feet like birds of prey, the raptors use their forelimbs to rip off their helmets—and sometimes their heads. It’s a horrific, grisly, impossible scene … it must be the madness of death.

  He’s sucked farther down, until he’s directly above his body, an invisible ghost in the rain. Claire is sitting atop Sleipnir, Thor’s hammer in her hand. Fenrir is dancing around Rush, and the SEAL team is stalking toward the platform Bohdi’s on. There are some Fire Giants with them, picking up the clothing and weapons of slain Einherjar on the plain as they go.

  Amy is setting Bohdi’s head next to his body. “I’m still so mad at you,” she says, and he loves it and hates it. She’s mad at him because she still loves him and that makes his heart leap so much he thinks he could leap back into the universe … but he can’t because somehow he has to convince her to run, not to stay and cradle his useless body.

  “Hurry, Amy!” Beatrice shouts, and Bohdi can feel the anxiety of Amy’s grandmother.

  Steve strides up the platform. “Dr. Lewis, we need to—”

  Slipping out a roll of sparkly blue twine and a very big needle, Amy interjects, “I am the incarnation of Creation, and I’m going to save him, and I have to do it here because his body is cooling.”

  The incarnation of Creation?

  “Alright,” Steve says, sounding oddly non-plussed. Raising his voice to the team at large, Steve says, “We’re staying here!” Then he mutters inexplicably to himself, “I hate magic.”

  Bohdi would gasp if he could. Not at the revelation, but at Steve’s lack of surprise … and his own. Bohdi had known that too, hadn’t he?

  “Sir,” Larson says. “This position isn’t very defensible.”

  Sleipnir bugles, and on his back Claire shakes Thor’s hammer, sending lightning sparks flying. “I’m not leaving Bohdi!”

  “I know, Honey,” Steve says, his eyes sliding to Claire, and Bohdi can feel Steve’s heart constrict, wishing he could order her home, and knowing he can’t. Bohdi wishes he could disappear again; feeling his friend’s feelings is too much. There is protectiveness and loyalty but Bohdi also feels a cunning and calculus that is chilling. Steve is loyal, determined, and brave. But part of the reason he won’t back down is because he knows that this is the last stand—if he runs, the lives of Claire, Bohdi, Amy, Sigyn, and all those he’s commanding are forfeit. Steve might not make the decision to stay if that wasn’t the answer to the equation.

  It’s so different from what Amy’s feeling. From her Bohdi only feels burning determination and love. She isn’t like Claire, unaware of the full danger and filled with rage and determination. Amy is aware of the dangers, she just doesn’t care; she’d do this no matter what the outcome.

  He watches as she slips a thick needle through the skin of the side of his neck and then to the skin of his body, and it’s odd because there is no physical sensation, but t
he emotional sensation is intense. Maybe it is her fingers so pale and clean against his bloodied neck and body, maybe it is the bright blue of the twine, or his face—ashen, eyes cloudy, blood on his lips. His corpse looks monstrous.

  His consciousness lowers beside her. She’s broken off the twine and is putting another stitch on the other side of his neck, his dried blood staining her clothing as she leans over him. Her brow is furrowed, and he hears her whispering, “The bones are in the right place, everything else must be in the right place.” She bites her lip. “Has to be in the right place.”

  “Lewis! Hurry!” Rush shouts.

  Amy begins putting stitches in between the ones on either side of his neck.

  He silently wills her to leave him, to go, to run, to save herself. Doesn’t she remember that he’ll find her again? He promised, and he will, somehow; she should leave this shattered shell behind.

  Tears fall from Amy’s eyes as she ties another knot. “I don’t want another Chaos, Bohdi, I want you. Please stay with me, please stay with me.” Bohdi feels like the knots she’s tied have connected to his heart. He can’t wish her to leave anymore, he wants more than anything to live.

  In contrast to her gentle words, she attacks his neck with the twine, not stopping until his corpse looks like it is wearing a bright blue choker, and then she rolls his body over quickly, and makes quick neat stitches in the back of his neck. Rolling his body back around she cries, “I’m almost done!” Leaning her lips close, she gently kisses his corpse, and he think he feels heat. “I’m sorry, Bohdi, I hope it didn’t hurt.” She takes some bullets out of her pockets and Bohdi can feel them pulsing with magic. “I had to do something to hold your head in place while I do this.”

  He watches from above as she lays a hand on his forehead and slips another under his shirt over his heart. He feels a pain that isn’t physical; he has a sensation like he’s a string that is being ripped from an enormous fabric, the feelings of everyone around him fade away, and he wants to scream and he can’t.