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

by J. L. Murray

  “I'm quite sure,” he breathed, “that was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Eleni then understood the look on his face. It was awe.

  “Fin,” Eleni said, her voice cracking. Every bit of moisture had left her body. She staggered, almost losing her balance.

  “Alaunus?” said Loki, raising an eyebrow. “He ran that way.” Loki didn't take his eyes from her, but gestured past the still-breathing monster. “He still lives, though I think it is a close thing.” He took a step toward Eleni. “Why you chose him I'll never know. An order god.” There was venom in his voice. “You could have so much more. You could have everything.”

  Eleni raised an arm heavily, her palm toward Loki. “Do not come near me,” she said, her voice husky.

  Loki looked at her with an almost gentleness. He walked toward her. “I would be very surprised if you still had power within you. An impressive display, but you must remember that you are very young.” Eleni tried to bring a flame into her hand, but managed nothing but a spark. She tried again. “You see?” said Loki, reaching out to her. Eleni tried to back away, but he had edged an arm around her waist. With the other he stroked her cheek. “Stay with me, Eleni,” he whispered. “I can do so much for you.”

  Eleni closed her eyes, trying to swallow, but finding she couldn't even do that. She was fighting unconsciousness, the edges of her vision threateningly dark. “Why?” she finally managed.

  “Why?” said Loki. “You are incredible. So full of chaos and anger and an unending desire to be loved. I can love you, Eleni, if you'll let me. We would be good together, you and I. Unstoppable.”

  “No,” Eleni said weakly, her throat raw and painful. “Why Ragnarok?”

  Loki smiled. “The end of this world? The end of suffering and death and gods bickering and humans poisoning everything they touch? You could stop it all with me. You and I and a fresh new world.” His face was very close to Eleni's. “Please,” he said. “You could make the world into anything you like. You can hunt for the rest of your life if you want. Or I can make you a great fortress where you could lie and drink wine all day long. Anything you want. Anywhere you want.”

  Eleni turned her head and saw a lump on the ground. It wasn't moving. “Fin,” she said, without meaning to. Loki had said he was alive, but he could be lying. Eleni looked back at Loki. He was frowning like Eleni had hurt him somehow.

  “Forget Alaunus,” said Loki. “He has no power. No grace. I can look like him if you want me to.” Loki began to change in front of her eyes. He broadened, his shoulders widened, his hair changed from silver to dark brown and stubble grew into a beard on his chin. His long, thin nose became slightly bent. He blinked and violet eyes became dark. It was Fin.

  “Stop it,” said Eleni.

  “Come with me, Eleni,” said Loki. It wasn't Fin's voice, but the way he looked was disarming.

  “No,” said Eleni, closing her eyes again. She had grown dizzy. “I can't.”

  “No,” Loki repeated. He looked grieved when Eleni opened her eyes. In seconds he had changed form again, back to his own face, his own lithe body, his silver hair smoothing over his shoulders. He shook his head. “Go to him, then,” he said, slowly taking his arm from around her waist. She staggered as the support was gone. “Go to your little god. I won't force you to come with me. You will soon tire of him.” Eleni made her way to the lump on the ground, weaving and occasionally falling. “This is what you call mercy,” Loki called after her. “You'll be begging for it later, when the world is a flood. You'll be screaming for my mercy. I did not kill you or the order god. You should be grateful.”

  Eleni fell on top of Fin's body. He was burned on one side, his right arm seared, the skin black and oozing liquid. His neck was in bad shape too. Eleni couldn't even raise herself up in order to help him. But as she lay upon him, she felt movement. He was breathing. She allowed herself to breathe then, too. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath. Fin was alive; she hadn't killed him. Not quite, anyway.

  She turned her head to look at Loki who, to her confusion, was looking into the forest expectantly. He smiled. He looked over at Eleni, a look of satisfaction on his face. “They're coming,” he said. “Can you hear them? Stomping their way through the forest.”

  “How did you know?” Eleni whispered.

  “That you would be here?” said Loki. “The answer is simple: never trust the god of nightmares. He is probably halfway to the underworld by now, the coward. But not to worry. I killed him. I didn't come for you, though, Eleni. Not really. You would just be an unexpected prize in addition to what I'm really here for.”

  “What?” Eleni managed to lift her head up.

  “You were the bait, my sweet girl,” said Loki, looking into the forest again. “You were never my target. I admit to a bit of sentimentality.” He looked at her. “You're very beautiful and very...shattered. I feel a certain kindredness towards you. But you are not the one I seek.”

  “Who?” said Eleni.

  “She's coming now,” said Loki, giddiness in his voice. “I've searched the world for her. She disguises herself very well. But like everyone who lays eyes on you, she has a weakness. Poor little fire goddess. So sweet and broken and full of power. You're like honey, Eleni, you really are. I can see it now, though. Perhaps someday you'll be my weakness too.” He frowned. “Perhaps I should destroy you before you can creep your way into my head.” He took a step toward her. “Cut off the limb before it rots.” He stopped. “But, no. I can see now you've already wriggled into my head. It's a tight fit, is it not? So many voices in there. Such glorious chaos.”

  There was a deep growl and the wolf, Eleni's wolf, stepped out of the forest, nearly as tall as Loki's chest. The gold eyes glowed brightly. The wolf's face was a snarl and it stalked toward Loki menacingly. But instead of backing away from the fearsome animal, Loki laughed delightedly.

  “Daja, you are disappointingly predictable. Aren't there too many wolves running about? Don't you think it's time for the little goddess to find out who her loyal animal friend really is? A liar.”

  The wolf looked round at Eleni, then back at Loki. In one smooth move, there suddenly wasn't a wolf standing there any longer, but a tall, naked woman with straight black hair that cascaded down her back, lower than her waist. Eleni stared for a long time. The woman looked round and her eyes were golden and shining like beams of light. Her body glowed softly, the same color as her eyes. Eleni had suspected that the she-wolf was not a normal wolf, but was still shocked.

  “I'm sorry, Eleni,” the woman said, her voice deep, like a growl. “It was the only way to watch over you.”

  “Who are you?” Eleni croaked.

  “Just know that I came to love you,” said the woman. She turned back to Loki. “You cannot possibly think that a little chaos gnat could kill me. Even if you do take my essence, swallowing my soul would burn you up from the inside in the beat of a heart. Don't be foolish, little god.”

  “Eleni,” said Loki, without taking his eyes from the woman. “This is Daja. She is the incarnation of the sun god. Your she-wolf. ”

  “She saved my life,” whispered Eleni, remembering. She had been a small child thrust into the wilderness when she had met the wolf. Or Daja, as she was called.

  “Does it not make you angry, Eleni?” said Loki. “Your friend betrayed you.”

  “I helped her,” said Daja. “I stayed by her side when she had nothing else.”

  “I'm not angry,” Eleni said, her voice hardly above a breath. She was losing her grasp. The darkness that had threatened the edges of her consciousness were creeping in closer and closer. “Leave her alone.” She held her hand out limply and a tiny tendril of fire rose from it like a bright little worm. It was the last of her energy. Her head lolled and sank on top of Fin. Just as her eyes were closing, she saw Daja grow bright, as bright as the sun, turning the dark riverbank to day in the middle of the night. And Loki was laughing.

  Chapter Twenty

  The
light was dazzling. Even Loki, who had seen the souls of every sort of god on the planet had to shield his eyes. But he laughed as he did it.

  “Laughing is the last thing you will do, chaos god,” Daja's voice whispered into his head. “There will be nothing left of you.”

  The snow was beginning to fall once more. Heavily, with flakes the size of a fingernail wetting Loki's hair and melting down his neck. He was aware of everything. He had absorbed Marowit such a short time ago. It had given him strength, though it left a rancid taste in the back of his throat that would not subside. He was aware of Eleni and her pet, the order god, breathing shallowly on the edge of the clearing. He could sense the movement of Hati, awakening from unconsciousness. It would be a shock to find half his face missing. He could feel the ground shaking with the local gods and Reapers storming his way, only a short way off now.

  And this beautiful creature in front of him. She was gathering her energy, only a fraction of what she was capable of during the day. The sun goddess of this loathsome region was the real reason he had waited in a stinking cottage in the middle of nowhere for days. Marowit said they all thought Loki was here for Eleni, the fire goddess. Such a pretty little thing. Like a poisonous flower. He was tempted to take her with him, whether she consented or not. But an angry fire goddess was not something he had time to deal with right now.

  He reached into his pouch and pulled out the heavy object he had concealed even from his own grandsons. They wouldn't understand the power of the thing, just as they didn't understand the power of the bone horn. They simply wanted the power, the brute strength it gave them. But there was a dark beauty to all they had done, to what he was doing right now. Daja was expanding now, a ball of fire. So bright that it would be heartbreaking to douse her. But it must be done. He turned the blade back and forth, admiring the carvings etched into the bone blade.

  The heat radiating from Daja seemed to falter. The light flickered. Loki sensed her fear.

  “Where did you get that?” her voice uttered into his head. It was so soft it was almost like a shiver.

  “I have made some powerful friends of late,” Loki said. “They give me the most amazing gifts.”

  “No,” said Daja. Her light was becoming more of an effervescent glow. “Why are you not burning?”

  “A benefit of holding your former self in my hand,” said Loki, looking at the blade, the bone almost brown with age. He looked up at Daja. “Or part of you, at any rate.”

  “Bones or no,” Daja said, “you cannot absorb my essence. You are too small. It will burn through you like embers through a dry leaf.” Her fear was growing. She took a step back. “And when I am reborn, my only goal will be to pursue you. I will not kill you, Loki. I will burn a different part of your body every day. You will think Odin's creative torture was bliss compared to what I will do to you in my next life.”

  “Well, I cannot have that,” said Loki. With his other hand he took out the carved horn and tossed it into the air, catching it easily. “My friends also made this for me. It came in very handy with the other gods, but that's not what it was made for. Any god's essence will only stay inside temporarily. Any god's essence but yours, my lovely, lovely Daja. I have more hidden away. Each horn made from a different bone.”

  “Why would you do this? I have never hurt you, Loki. I even asked Odin to reconsider his decision to imprison you.”

  “It has nothing whatsoever to do with you,” said Loki. “I do find it regrettable to destroy such a charming goddess. So sweet and kind. And yet, you are the weakest of the sun gods. So I must take you first.” He smiled sadly. “Tragic, I know. But in the end it will all be worth it. There will be no more fighting. Peace at last.”

  “You mean there will be no one to fight you.”

  He shrugged, with a small smile.

  “You're mad, Loki. You were always strange to me, but you're different now. Please try to remember. This isn't right.”

  “What I remember is my wife dying trying to keep me from any more pain,” Loki said through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes and let the anger pass, then smiled again. “It's true I no longer loved her, but it was not right for her to suffer. She did nothing to Odin. But I am more generous than him. It will be quick. Your pain will not last for long. You have my word.” He laughed softly. “You forest gods really should carry weapons for when your power fails you.”

  “It has never failed me before,” Daja said, her voice a sigh in his skull. She looked round at Eleni. She was stirring. “Don't hurt the girl,” she said, her eyes pleading.

  “I am going to end the world,” said Loki. “What is a little goddess to you? They will all die.”

  “Then leave her,” said Daja. “Let her die with the others.”

  “Goodbye, Daja,” said Loki. “I have enjoyed our little talk.”

  Daja didn't even have time to scream before the sword was inside her. Loki cried out as Daja's blood covered his hand, smoke and steam rising from the burns. He hurriedly rubbed it with snow from the ground. It burned and throbbed, hurting like no wound he had ever sustained. The blood of the sun. The thought made him smile, even as his breath was sharp from the pain. He looked at the source of the blood. Daja was twitching, the bone blade protruding from her gut like a flag. Her movements were growing slower. Blood was sinking into the earth, the acrid smell from the wet earth underneath her burning, despite the moisture, when touched by the blood.

  A faint glow was beginning to protrude from Daja's mouth, still open in horror. It was bright, so much brighter than the other gods' souls had been. He knelt next to her. She was dead. The glow in her mouth was growing brighter. He had to take it now. He sensed movement nearby where Eleni had collapsed, but he made himself ignore it. He opened the flask and said the words. The symbols on the bone glowed and the essence bubbling out of Daja was pulled in a thin trickle into the flask. He replaced the stopper in the flask. The voice would tell him what to do next. He just had to wait. The voice would come. It always did.

  Loki felt eyes on him. He looked over to see Eleni, barely conscious, watching him. She appeared to be too weak to move. But her eyes, as cold as the snow that was falling thicker and faster every passing breath, were on him, watching him. He could stay in those eyes.

  “I had to,” he said. “Please don't hate me. I couldn't stand it if you hated me.” Eleni blinked in confusion, as though she didn't understand. “I'll come for you if you change your mind. But I cannot force you to love me. You and I are...” he trailed off, sadness making his guts cold. He forced it away and made himself smile. He stood up. “Please don't watch. What's going to happen next is ugly. But I have to, you see? He told me it had to be this way.”

  She was still watching him, she didn't take her eyes from him. She would change her mind, he was sure of it. She would understand. He had to do this. There was no other way. He smiled. He felt them coming, all the gods. They had shunned him before. Left him to rot. They would pay now. He would never harm Eleni, but all of the others would die. The voice had promised to end them all for good. He would have loved to bottle them up, to absorb their power, but he couldn't uncork the flask. Daja's soul was too important.

  Loki readied himself. They were talking quietly as they came. He felt the heavy, clumsy steps of the Reivers, the softer, more refined steps of the gods. He gathered the power in his chest.

  The Reivers came first, unassuming, some wielding their falxes. Loki felt the power surge from his chest, felt his skin and bone open up to let out the terrible power that opened up the earth and sucked every last Reiver down. Loki was sure they screamed, but he couldn't hear their voices over his own. The pain was worse than anything that he had ever felt before. The power was new, and he knew it would hurt, but this was not pain. This was sickness, agony, every malady that had ever been, every hurt that had ever been experienced. This was a torch to his soul. The voice had not told him it would be this bad. Only that he would need the power of the gods to survive it.

 
; The hole in the earth went down deep, deeper than he could fathom, to the middle of the earth. Steam rose and after a moment it was like the Reivers had never been. He could feel the cold wind on his exposed heart. It was beating, he could hear it, feel it the crackle of it as the frigid wind froze the blood inside his open chest. He wanted to scream again, but the gods were standing at the edge of the chasm, looking at him. That look, the same look Odin had all that time ago. It was like it was happening again. He wanted to run away. He could become a rabbit, or a great falcon and fly far, far away. This suffering would be over. Perhaps the voice couldn't find him if he stayed as an animal.

  But the pounding started in his head. He was here, he was watching. He was always watching. Finish it, Loki. Send them to me.

  Loki let the power go again, unable even to scream this time. His pain was so intense that even a scream couldn't touch it. He was voiceless, breathless in his pain. He felt the ground crack, and for a moment thought the voice would bring him down, too, that the final joke would be to kill him after all he had done. He squeezed his eyes tight. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. If the voice was still in his head, he couldn't even feel that. And then the power was gone. He knew it was only temporary. It would be back. But for now, he was free. Even if it was just for a time.

  He felt his chest close, his heart warming, his muscle, skin and bone knitting themselves back together. The rush of blood gave him a surge of light-headedness. The pounding in his head was gone. The noise was gone. He opened his eyes. Even the gods were gone with their accusing eyes. The ground had even mended itself. It was as though he had imagined everything. Except for one thing. He turned to look at Eleni. She was forcing herself up to a sitting position, tears streaming into steam. She was like a painting he had seen once in the South. He had cried at its sad beauty. He stepped away from her, even though he wanted badly to go to her, perhaps to comfort her, or to have her comfort him. But he knew the time was not right. Not yet.