After the Fire (After the Fire: Book the First)

by J. L. Murray

  “What about the women?” said Iren. “Someone has to protect them while they're out gathering sticks.”

  “Leave them,” said Magda.

  “No,” said Iren, standing up straight. Magda looked at the set of her jaw and the look of rebellion in her eyes.

  “You've been spending time with Eleni, that much is certain.” Magda sighed and waved her hand toward the forest. “Very well. Gather them all back here. Tell them to grab what fuel they can for the fire and to return here. We'll protect them if that is what you wish.”

  “My mother is out there,” said Iren. “I can't just leave her.”

  “Family only holds you back, girl,” said Magda. “I know that more than anyone. I've been stuck here for more moons than I can even count anymore. You are intelligent, girl. Far more than the others. They need you more than you need them.”

  “Would you leave your sisters? On purpose?”

  “If I could keep all their power?” said Magda. “Perhaps not. I am connected to them in a way that no mortal could understand. I need them. But you do not have that problem. You can leave and keep yourself intact; if you can get out, you should do so. Now go gather your sheep. And tell them not to bleat too loudly.”

  The first monster came when the moon was high. The air was cold and the sky was clear, shimmering slightly every now and again from the power spell Magda had cast on the camp. The fire was roaring and sending bright light all around them. The women were huddled by the fire silently, the fear in their eyes as loud as any scream. A few held falxes limply, afraid to even hold the things. Iren was the only one who looked confident, the bow slung over her shoulder. Magda had asked her why she carried so many arrows in her hand.

  “It makes me faster.”

  “Did Eleni teach you that?” Magda had said. “Or Alaunus?”

  “No,” said Iren. “I didn't have anyone to teach me, so I didn't know how it was done. I can notch three arrows to a man's one. I watched Balyn in secret. I am faster.” If any mortals were worth saving, Magda had mused, it was this girl. She was a born warrior. As the dark creature came bursting through the veil of light, Magda was happy to have the girl at her side. She didn't lose her head at the sight of the thing like the others. Most of the women screamed, and one of the old men. But Iren shrugged her bow into her hand and notched an arrow, focused intently on her target.

  “It's a vodnik,” Magda said.

  “Where do I hit it?” said Iren.

  “Everywhere.”

  The vodnik had taken the form of a man, his hair hanging soaking wet around his face. His bloated, filmy eyes looked at the women and the thing smiled, revealing dark teeth that, Magda guessed if they could see them in daylight, were probably green. He was naked and water ran down his skin, which was soft and so pale he almost appeared to glow. Like he had been boiled, or left in the water too long. He took a step toward them, frowning as his foot lifted slowly, confused by his inability to move quickly. Normally vodniks were as quick as a fast-moving river.

  “Don't let him touch you,” Magda said. “He'll drown you and take you back with him to whatever smelly water hole he's living in. If you have a weapon get ready.”

  Iren loosed an arrow. Then another, then another. They thwacked wetly as they hit their target. One in the neck, one in the guts, and the last one in the heart. Water came bursting from the holes the arrows had made, and it slowly fell forward onto the ground.

  “Now!” screamed Magda. “Cut off his head!”

  Magda rushed at the vodnik, gurgling and shaking as though in convulsions. She raised the blade and brought it down on the soft, pale neck, but hardly made it through the skin. She had used so much energy to protect them that she suddenly found herself weak. Water spurted through the nick she had made in the thing's neck.

  “What are you waiting for?” she yelled hoarsely at the women. “Help me, you fools.”

  Two women came scuttling over and stared blankly at the thing shaking on the ground. Magda raised her blade again, but before she could bring it down, the curved and hooked blade of a large falx glinted in front of her, slicing through skin, bone and muscle in one swoop. Magda looked up to see Iren wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She was panting. The vodnik lay unmoving, unseeing.

  “Very good,” said Magda with no hint of bitterness.

  “What do we do with it?” said Iren.

  “Burn it,” said Magda. She looked at the women. “I'll leave the task to you all. This girl just saved your lives. Throw the carcass on the fire and be quick about it.”

  “What about me?” said Iren, looking overwhelmed now that she realized what she had done. Overwhelmed, but with an excitement in her eye that Magda doubted had ever been there before. There was a sound like tearing and Magda saw a child burst through the veil. A child with red eyes.

  “Get your bow,” said Magda.

  “That's a little boy,” said one of the women. Magda didn't bother to look to see which one. It didn't matter. “You can't kill a child. Maybe he's just lost.”

  The child looked innocently around and smiled, showing impossibly long, sharp teeth that flickered bright in the firelight.

  “Not a child,” said Magda. “A kobold.”

  Iren had already notched an arrow. When it hit, the kobold uttered an inhuman shriek that made the women put their hands over their ears and close their eyes. This time, one of the women rushed to chop off the thing's head, black blood spurting from its neck. It took four tries, but the woman's efforts finally had results. Magda nodded at her in approval.

  “Throw it on the fire,” she called. She looked at Iren. “This will be happening all night. Will you be able to keep it up?”

  Iren nodded. “Yes,” she said. Her eyes were dancing.

  “Good,” said Magda. “Notch another arrow. I feel another one coming.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eleni and Fin crouched in the trees and looked across the clearing at the village. They had left Epona to graze in the forest.

  The village was just as Eleni remembered it, and for a panicked moment it was as if she had never left. At any moment Rastin's voice was going to echo out of the iron walls and she would have to crawl back in her stinking box like an animal. She looked at Fin to reassure herself. They were dead. They were all dead. She looked back at the village. It was completely silent, and not a single light shone from what she could see. What was stranger was that the forest was silent as well. It made her uneasy.

  “It's unnatural,” Fin whispered.

  “Why is there no noise coming from the forest?” said Eleni. “What has he done?”

  Fin shook his head. “I don't know. But we should go down to the riverbank. Your family will be here soon.”

  “How?” said Eleni. “We rode a horse, running the whole way.”

  “The gods are fast,” said Fin.

  “I'm not,” said Eleni.

  “You're faster than you know,” he said. “Since you remembered I'm sure you move just as quickly. Let's go before we're seen.”

  It was eerie standing still and hearing absolutely nothing from the forest. It was even worse walking through the trees and hearing nothing but the sound of their footsteps in the snow; Fin's boots creaking as they made their way along, and the slight hissing of Eleni's feet through the ankle-deep drifts that had made their way through the canopy. Not a bird's song or the scrabbling of a rodent could be heard. Nothing. Only the sound of their steps.

  They arrived at the riverbank. There was ice along the edges, but the water was still crashing its way along as it always did. The air took on an earthy, clean smell here. It was different than the smell of snow, though that was here too. Eleni crouched down and cupped her hands, drinking from the icy, rushing water. She looked at Fin. He was frowning into the forest. He mumbled something to himself.

  “What?” said Eleni.

  He looked at her, the frown still on his face. “It's not right,” he said. “Something's wrong here. Why did Lok
i wait so long? Why didn't he just come and get you?”

  “I don't know,” said Eleni.

  “Where are the signs of life? Even the evergreens are dying.”

  Eleni hadn't noticed, but as she looked up she could see the higher branches of every tree was trimmed in brown. Suddenly she clenched her fists.

  “Someone's here,” she said.

  “It's too early,” said Fin, turning and squinting into the darkness. “Eleni, where is the wolf?”

  “I don't know. She comes and goes as she wishes.”

  “I've never seen her leave your side for so long,” said Fin. “What is this? What's happening?”

  The rushing sound of the river filled her ears. Fin was talking, but the water was crashing so loudly she couldn't hear him. She shook her head. Fin looked at the river, hardly more than a stream a moment ago. The water was coming faster, carrying large branches and other detritus in its wake. There was a rumbling under their feet and Eleni felt cold water trickle over her toes. The river was flooding slowly over the bank, running in rivulets along the ground, making paths through the blanket of snow on the ground.

  Eleni peered into the darkness. She could probably see a good deal better than Fin, but she saw nothing. She could feel something moving around, though. She opened a palm and let the fire rise up. The area became illuminated, and Eleni saw something flash in the forest beyond: a pair of red eyes.

  The eyes were soon joined by a nightmare face, moving toward her, lumbering on two legs through the bushes and low-growing branches. It was huge, bigger than anything Eleni had ever seen. It was at least twice her height, with matted brown fur and a face criss-crossed with scars where the fur did not grow. Its short snout was almost wolf-like, and a trickle of slaver ran out from between its rows upon rows of sharp teeth that jutted out the sides of its lipless mouth. Another one emerged on the other side of the bank, its evil eyes on Fin. And right in the center, a man walked easily through the brush and leaned against the trunk of a tree. Eleni knew him.

  “Loki,” she said.

  “Oh, you know me, do you?” he said, folding his arms across his bare chest. He was wearing trousers in the style of the Krasna men from Eleni's village. A large pouch hung from his waist, weighted by its contents. His feet were bare, like his chest, but he didn't seem to be bothered by the snow or the ice-cold water that was beginning to wash across the ground. “You must have started remembering then. Odd thing, that, is it not?”

  Eleni made her hands into fists, keeping the fire burning in one and setting the other one aflame. She could feel the power building up inside her arms and chest and belly. It was more than she had ever felt before. She was stronger than she had ever been. Her vision went slightly red and she knew the fire was there, too. It scared her, but it was a welcome fear.

  “What is this, Loki?” said Fin. “Why are you here?”

  “Have you not heard?” said Loki. His silver hair shone in Eleni's light. It hung in two plaits on either side of his head and down his chest. “I'm collecting gods.”

  “To start Ragnarok,” said Eleni. “The end of the world.”

  “Almost right, ” he said, smiling. “Not the end of the world. Just the start of a new world without all the people and gods mucking it up.” He studied Eleni. “I think you'd like it, little goddess. You should come with me.” Eleni snorted.

  “You can't start Ragnarok,” said Fin. “Ragnarok has an order. You can't just bring it on because you want it to happen.”

  “Oh, you mean how Fenrir eats Odin and Baldur and all that rubbish? None of that is necessary. Not anymore. There is no order any longer, Alaunus. Only chaos. And deep darkness to get it started. I only need to make the world cold, and the rest will follow. The Fates are separated, the world is teetering on the brink of destruction, and no one can stop it. And all, from what I understand, because of one godling that everyone just kept saving.” He looked at Eleni. “All worth it, if you want my opinion. She is a vision. And all that rage. It must have taken a lot of restraint not to kill those villagers when they first put you in that box. Because I can feel you like a furnace from here.” He looked back at Fin. “I would just kill to have you on my side.”

  “You won't touch me,” said Eleni.

  Loki smiled again. “I don't want to touch you, dearest. I want to teach you.”

  “Enough,” said Fin through gritted teeth. He raised his hands. The trees on either side of Loki sprang from the ground, growing at dizzying speeds. The trunks wrapped themselves tight around the chaos god and Eleni could hear him grunt from the pressure. A sound like wood cracking against itself rent the still, quiet air and Eleni couldn't see Loki any longer. The two beasts continued to stare at them, unfazed by what was happening to their master, or whatever Loki was to them. Uncle, Eleni remembered, at the same time she remembered their names: Hati and Skoll, sons of Fenrir, the wolf god of the North.

  A heartbeat passed, then another. Eleni could hear hers pounding in her ears, ready for the creature to pounce her. Another crack of wood. Then a sound like a low hum. The earth beneath their feet began to shake. A gentle rumble at first, then so violently that Eleni had to crouch slightly to keep her balance. The trees on either side the place Loki had disappeared began to tumble over, falling back with deafening crashes that brought several other trees down with them. The shaking grew more intense until Eleni was sure the earth would open up and swallow them. Suddenly, with a sound that was louder than anything she had ever heard, the trunks that had imprisoned Loki exploded into pieces that flew through the air. Eleni ducked as part of a log flew by her head and splashed in the water.

  The ground stopped shaking, the humming ceased, and Loki was standing the same place he had been, without a scratch on him. He brushed bits of wood off his shoulder. He looked at Fin and smiled. “Kill him,” he said.

  The two beasts moved toward Fin ominously, their steps heavy and awkward. Eleni moved toward Fin, placing herself between him and the beast that had been watching her. The thing snarled at her, growling low in his throat. Eleni pushed at the fire in her chest, sending it down through her arms. It was so strong even she could feel it burning, flowing down through her veins and her muscle and bone and skin. The sleeves of her dress fluttered away on either side of her, reduced to bits of ash. The beast hesitated. Eleni could hardly see, the world had changed into one big bonfire. And the inside of her head felt like it was an enormous cinder, burning the inside of her skull with the heat. She could feel her hair giving off sparks.

  “Fin,” she said, her voice thick in her ears. “I can't control it.”

  “Don't worry about me, Eleni. Just kill Loki.”

  “I think it might kill me if I let it go. I'm going to burn up.”

  “You won't burn,” said Fin. “It's who you are.”

  Loki shouted something at her, smiling genially, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. The flames were in her ears now. All she could hear was the roaring of the fire. She could see Loki watching her, his eyes wide with interest, as if entertained by what was happening.

  The beast came at her all at once, rushing towards her so fast that she could only see him as a blur. She held out one hand to stop him, surprised by the sudden attack. It jumped, rising up dizzyingly high, a high-pitched screech audible above the sound of the fire in her ears. It hurled itself toward Eleni, red eyes a blur through the darkness of the night. Eleni put out her hand as its maw opened wide and white teeth flashed.

  “Stop,” Eleni said softly. There was a burst of light in her head and she was blind in the brightness of it. Everything went silent. There was no fire roaring in her ears, no werewolf shrieking; nothing. A sensation bloomed in her chest, an intense heaviness that seemed to want to rush out of her. For a moment Eleni thought her heart would burst. It stayed there, choking her, making her unable to breathe, to feel, to think of anything but the crushing inside her chest. And then it was gone, rushing out through her and she felt only pain.

  She screame
d as the power coursed out of her chest and through her arms. It scrabbled against her insides as it went like a thousand tiny knives, tearing her up inside, burning its way as it went. She remembered this now. The pain, the crushing sensation. It had been this way before. And the last time she had done it, Perun had been there, reversing the power and directing it back against Zaric. But she couldn't think of that now. She had to hang on, to harness the power. She was vaguely aware of screaming, more than one voice shrieking as the sound returned to her ears. She felt the fire wrapping itself around her body, almost caressing her, as it coursed out of her hands. Her vision darkened slightly, and she could see again.

  The world had become silent again. So silent that it hurt. Everything hurt, but she couldn't understand why there was no sound. Then her vision returned in full, and she saw. It took every bit of control not to scream, but she managed to swallow it down. Her mouth tasted of ash. A smell rose to her nostrils and it was like burning the village all over again. Only this time, she had had no control over it.

  The river had turned black and was hardly a trickle. Great trees that had moments ago stretched up to the heavens were reduced to charred stumps, barely rising out of the ground. The beast, Hati or Skoll, it didn't matter which, was gone, his blackened ribcage on the ground. Eleni saw parts of him, black and smoking, scattered all over the ground. She looked around for Fin, but couldn't see him. The other beast was lying behind her, half his face blown off, and his skull and meat charred. He wasn't as bad as his brother and Eleni could see him breathing. Just barely, but his chest was rising and falling, she was sure of it.

  Loki stepped out from the edge of the burnt landscape where he must have stepped back. He was staring at her with an expression Eleni didn't understand. It wasn't fear or hate. Then he smiled.