The Descendants of Thor Trilogy Boxset: Forged in Blood and Lightning; Norns of Fate; Wrath of Aten

by S. A. Ashdown

  ‘Probably not,’ Ava said, and she took his hand again, and Rosalia’s, showing them everything she had to say instead.

  38

  A Problem Shared…

  Ava had no way of telling how long she’d been in the tower – the sky never darkened, and no clock ticked on the wall. In the end, she had devoured every crumb that monster brought her, despite her initial protests when Akhen encouraged her to eat. The boredom tapped constantly on the door of her frustration until she’d caved, too tired to concentrate on finding a way out.

  After that, she’d slept, bathed, and meditated, as her grandma had taught her years before. The breakthrough came when she admitted defeat: she couldn’t physically escape the tower.

  But her mind was another matter – literally. Her mind, her spirit, her Vital Essence was a thing uncountable and uncontainable.

  And she had unleashed it. She’d reached out and felt Theo’s power, drawing upon it just like she had told Akhen. Ava had explored the clouds outside the tower while her body remained in her glassy, circular prison.

  A plan germinated in her subconscious – the same place that warned her of Menelaus’s imminent arrival – although she’d expected him to arrive with Surt’s blade in hand, ready to liberate her.

  Akhen won that battle. But never mind, the turn of events proved only what she’d always known: no one was going to save her. Damn it, she didn’t need or want saving. She was going to save herself.

  She was going to save everybody.

  This she shared with Menelaus and Rosalia, inviting them into her mind with a sudden flowering of confidence. You’re going to find Nefertiti.

  She focused on Rosalia. I know about Persephone and the deal you made with her. Make sure she is ready – and free the Craven from Loki’s chains. All will become clear.

  Ava addressed them both. Once you have completed your task, get to Alfheim and tell Nikolaj that Theo needs him. The trial he’s about to go through is the greatest he has ever faced.

  She opened her eyes and regarded Menelaus’s composed expression, his eyebrows knitted in a frown as he watched the internal movie she projected into his third eye.

  Freyr – Raphael – had once told her that she couldn’t control her gift because she did not want to see. And now she understood – to be a prophet was to be the frontier, the first wave of defence and the messenger braving the open field between the trenches. To be a seer was to peel away your armour and expose yourself to whatever shrapnel was headed your way to stop it hitting anyone else you loved.

  You and I, Menelaus, felt connected from the beginning because we recognised a truth in each other: we are both guardians, we exist to be the quiet bridges that connect the past, present, and future, to bear the weight of our champions. But we must be strong. And when the fight is over, we will be rewarded.

  His frown deepened.

  Menelaus, we have found your mother. She is alive.

  His eyes moved back and forth under his lids, witnessing the shared vision, as he came to understand that his mother loved him and wanted him back.

  Tears streamed silently down his cheeks. His hand trembled in hers. ‘Do you hear me, Menelaus?’ she whispered. ‘Fate has woven your family back to you. And I refuse to let you lose them again.’

  Ava ran her fingertip over the sun disk mounted on the gold-and-granite Uraeus that had once belonged to Nefertiti. She marvelled at the serpent-head made of lapis lazuli, guessing its tail loop was meant to attach to a crown. ‘She wore this herself?’

  Akhen nodded. ‘An hour, seer. Don’t disappoint me.’

  From the other side of the tower, Menelaus finished the blood Akhen had brought him and slammed his glass on the table. The old pharaoh turned his neck and narrowed his eyes.

  Keep your temper in check, Menelaus.

  ‘One hour.’

  Ava buried her head in her pillow a second prior to his flashy exit.

  ‘Can you do it?’ Rosalia said as soon as he was gone.

  ‘There’s nothing like a deadline to keep me motivated.’ She forced a smile. ‘But I have a feeling it’s going to hurt. Menelaus, Rosalia, I need your assistance. Pass me that cloth on the table.’

  Rosalia threw it over and Ava tied it around her neck, ready to plug her mouth with it. She propped up the pillows. ‘Menelaus, sit behind me. Pin my arms down in case I try and scratch my own eyes out.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  Ava patted the top of the bed. She tried not to read into his peculiar expression as he took off his boots and sat against the headboard, but she admitted that it felt weird as she laid back on his chest, his muscled arms draped over hers, his metallic breath ticking the back of her head. ‘Rosalia, hold my feet down.’

  When they had all wriggled into a comfortable position, Ava bit the cloth between her teeth. Accepting the full power of Frigg’s gift may have been exhilarating – a blessing – but her body reacted more violently to the visions in response.

  She held Nefertiti’s Uraeus in her receptive left hand, and quieted her mind, lulled into that mental state between consciousness and sleep – just as her tower-prison hovered between one realm and the next – by Menelaus’s slow heartbeat. The fact he had a heartbeat reassured her too.

  Nefertiti, where are you?

  Her body, heavy on the bed, seemed to fall away from her. A hum resounded through her spirit like she’d been struck with a tuning fork. I need perspective. Ava righted herself and held her phantom arms above her head, and focused on the cosmic breeze swirling around her, imagining it propelling her higher and higher. Travelling like this, out-of-body, was an art that required as much practise as those early days learning cords on her acoustic. Music. Music has always helped me focus.

  She surrendered to the hum and coaxed it, sinking into its centre and grasping it in her mind, plucking the vibrating strings and creating her own tune, her own tone. A high pitch helped her rise up while the low notes tethered her…where? To the roots of Yggdrasil itself?

  Ava spread her arms like wings and soared to the uppermost boundary of this half-realm. At last, the sky was replaced by rolling hills, and she shot through Alfheim in a blur, passing like a needle puncturing the layers of the Nine Realms, until she arrived at the top of the World Tree, a place where she couldn’t puncture the boundary above. How long had passed? Time wasn’t easy to judge; wasn’t it relative to her perspective, anyway? Hours walked hand in hand with seconds and eons.

  From here she could see how each of the nine, overlapping realms were made from intricate parts working together, a balance wheel in each that explained the disparity in time between them. Which makes me outside of time, doesn’t it? But where am I now?

  ‘You’re right to think about Yggdrasil as a mechanical watch. Look down, Ava Wallace, you are standing on the pinion in the centre of it all.’

  ‘Who said that?’ Ava swirled around. A face formed out of the whiteness that had replaced the sky – two eyes, or rather, one eye that reflected every cloud and rainbow she’d ever seen, and the other an eternal void.

  ‘I oversee both creation and destruction,’ the voice said, answering her unuttered question. ‘Beloved of the Gatekeeper.’

  ‘Am I speaking to Odin?’

  A laugh like a thunderstorm tossed her spirit about. ‘Would you like to know how the Nine Realms work or not?’

  ‘Am I allowed to know?’

  ‘As much as your human brain can comprehend. And my wife, Frigg, trusted you to bear her gift. That’s good enough for me.’

  Ava focused on the beautiful, blue eye. ‘Yes, tell me. Why is Theo so important in keeping the Nine Realms in balance, and why does Akhen want them to merge together?’

  ‘The clock is due for a service,’ Odin said, and suddenly he was standing on the platform with her in human form, a staff in one hand, his white beard flowing down his grey robes. ‘How do I know this? The Orlog’s fire is the energy that powers the wheels – the Realms – you see below you. The Life Spr
ing at Yggdrasil’s roots interacts with the Gatekeeper, in the same way the controller in a mechanical watch works with the escapement, preventing the wheels from spinning out of control—’

  ‘Because of the extreme energy of the Orlog,’ Ava said, catching on. ‘So that would make Theo the escapement?’

  Odin smiled. ‘Akhenaten perceives him as a Syphon, which is partly true. He is more a valve who keeps the wheels steady. But as I have learnt, Akhen wishes to let the wheels spin out of control and collide together. He wants one Realm to rule, with one god.’

  ‘Aten,’ Ava interjected. ‘Is Aten the Orlog?’

  ‘He is the destructive side of it but not its entirety.’

  ‘That’s…clear.’

  Odin tapped his temple with his staff. ‘Human brain, remember?’

  ‘With a goddess’s foresight,’ Ava said. While Odin spoke, she absorbed so much more knowledge than his words. She accepted his wisdom with a kind of grief, knowing in her heart that once she returned to her body, the limitations Odin warned her about would render her unable to process most of it.

  ‘Why are the Realms aligning together?’ she asked.

  ‘All organic things exist in a cycle. As Yggdrasil’s power wanes, the Unbound Void outside of it squeezes the wheels together, leaving less room for growth and renewal. It’s a vicious cycle which heralds Ragnarök. We must hope your Gatekeeper finds a way to defeat the proponents of chaos and uses his unique position to infuse Yggdrasil with the energy to push oblivion back with its branches.’

  ‘And Akhen knows that, right?’ She gazed down at the translucent membranes coating each Realm, wondering how much strain they could take.

  ‘Yes, he does. In the beginning, I forced the gods to pledge secrecy, to shield the identity of the Gatekeeper, but no oath is kept for eternity.’

  Ava paused, listening to the hum beating through her Vital Essence – the tick, tock of the universe itself. ‘There’s one thing Akhen didn’t count on,’ she said, ‘when he picked a fight with Theo.’

  ‘Oh,’ Odin chuckled, ‘and what’s that?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yes. And I’m guessing you can help me with this next bit. I need you to get a message to Sif. Her scissors helped Theo once before and I’m hoping they’ll do the job again.’

  ‘It is risky,’ Odin said, ‘but consider it done. Desperate times, as you humans say…’

  ‘Thank you. I have one more question. Where is Hel keeping Nefertiti’s soul?’

  Odin touched his finger to her third eye. Ava fell from the pinion, tumbling and crashing through the wheels and realms, on a collision course with her body.

  When she snapped open her eyes, Menelaus was sitting on top of her – on the floor – her arms pinned behind her head, the gag chewed into rags. Sweat poured down her cheeks. ‘Get. Off. Me.’

  He rolled away. ‘Ava, are you back? You knocked Rosalia out!’

  He helped her to sit while her eyes readjusted to see outwards instead of inwards. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ Rosalia groaned from the bed.

  ‘I’m sorry, I warned you.’

  Menelaus tucked her matted hair behind her ears. ‘What’s that mark between your eyebrows? It looks like you’ve been burnt.’

  ‘Odin did it.’ His expression was incredulous. ‘Really.’

  ‘And did you find her?’

  ‘Yup. It was bloody obvious,’ she said. ‘Where do you keep something precious that you want to keep an eye on at all times?’

  Menelaus frowned. ‘You wear it?’

  ‘Uh-huh. I’m guessing you saw the net of souls that Hel is always weaving while you were with her?’

  He sat back, his lips parting. ‘Of course, the net.’

  ‘Nefertiti is the soul the others are woven around,’ Ava said. ‘Her Essence is the darkness that fuels Hel’s spinning – and interferes in people’s fates.’

  Menelaus jumped up, his features animated. ‘Including mine! Including mine, Ava! If we destroy that net and untangle Nefertiti, Hel is powerless to hold me and Rosalia in the Underworld.’

  He pulled Ava to her feet and hugged her.

  Their happiness was cut short by Akhen’s arrival. They parted just in time. ‘The hour is spent,’ he hissed. ‘Where is my wife?’

  Ava picked up the Uraeus that she had dropped on the floor. ‘On Hel’s lap,’ Ava said.

  Akhen grunted. ‘That filthy spinster! I shall skewer her for this!’ He seized Ava by her top and lifted her off her feet. She winced as his fishy breath flowed across her face. ‘And you, little seer, will not cross me.’

  Menelaus yanked her out of Akhen’s hold and stepped in front of her. ‘It’s in all our interests to liberate Nefertiti now,’ he said, looking down on Akhen. ‘And we’re your best shot, Ducis Imperi. If you want your queen back in one piece, crawl back to your villa in Cairo and leave us to it.’

  The tension almost splintered the glass walls. Akhen waved his hand in front of Menelaus and he and Rosalia disappeared with Akhen, leaving Ava alone in the tower.

  39

  Maze of Memory: Part One

  Crisp, white flowers clung along the edge of the maze’s beautiful, trained archway. Hardy little things, I thought, brushing one with my finger. How they survived the onslaught of snow was a mystery.

  I’m procrastinating. Okay, you have an advantage; you saw the maze from above. And Utgard-Loki warned you of what you might face. Gatekeeper, I’m relying on you to keep me focused.

  I pulled my cloak tight, stood up straight and strode inside, making it to the first sharp turn without trouble. Feeling cocky, I swept to my left and immediately the maze twisted my mind inwards.

  ‘Presents!’

  I open my eyes. ‘Ava, go away.’

  Ava continues to jump up and down on my bed. I peek out of the covers, and Mum is doing the same around the edge of the door. ‘Wake up, Teddy,’ she whispers, and I remember why Ava is excited.

  ‘Come on, birthday boy! You’re ten! Double figures, like me!’ Ava leaps off the bed, arms spread like an eagle, and Father catches her. He’s on the rug. I hadn’t spotted him yet.

  I yawn. ‘Did you say “presents”?’ I look around the bed, wishing that Mum had stopped me and Ava giggling until after midnight so I wasn’t so tired.

  ‘Yup,’ Father says. ‘And thank your lucky stars school is still shut today. It’s taking them a while to fix that burst water pipe.’ He and Mum exchange a funny look but then Mum skips into the room, her arms full of gifts. I know which ones Ava helped to wrap because the paper is all stuck funny. She is grinning so stupidly at me that I tear into that first before she gets cross. ‘It’s lumpy,’ I say, and she dives back onto the bed.

  ‘Can I help you open it?’

  ‘No!’ I pull it away but she isn’t angry because she knows we are just playing. ‘It’s lumpy and furry.’ I rip off the rest of the wrapping. A big bear with a crooked smile looks back at me. ‘He’s got a green cloak like Father,’ I say.

  She jabs its tummy with her finger. ‘And a hammer thingy.’

  ‘Mjölnir,’ Father coughs. Ava frowns and he winks at her.

  ‘Well, I still helped Mum sew it, even if I don’t remember that silly name.’ She tugs my hair. ‘Do you like it, Teddy?’

  I squeeze both her and the teddy at once. ‘I love it, thank you.’

  She blushes and now Mum steals the hug and covers my face in kisses. I’m glad she’s not wearing lipstick.

  Father makes me get out of bed to open the next present. ‘It’s a cloak like yours, Father!’ I’m happy because I always wanted to be like him and it’s not fair how he gets to swish around the library looking all important. I try it on and it fits perfectly; even the clasp at the front is the same as his.

  ‘That should last you a year or so.’ He smiles, lifting me into his arms.

  ‘Daddy, I can’t breathe.’

  He chuckles and sets me down. ‘Go on, open the rest.’r />
  So I do that while Ava is leaping and hopping around the room, excited because like every year, she already knows what’s inside everything. But she’s not allowed to tell me ever since she made me cry by ruining the surprise on my eighth birthday. She still feels bad about that.

  Farmor Elsa has sent me my favourite sweets from Norway and Uncle Nikolaj’s present is a huge remote-control boat I can play with on the lake. Mum has painted a portrait, from a photograph, of me and her picking apples in the orchard. She starts to tell me about layers and brushstrokes but I get distracted and soon she gives up and marches us all downstairs for breakfast.

  Uncle Nikolaj is waiting in the kitchen, covered in flour. He sees me and quickly hides the open packets of flour and the mixing bowl even though he always bakes my birthday cake. But I didn’t think he would be back from Europe today. I run across the kitchen and he runs to me and swings me upside down and rubs his floury fingers in my hair, and then he dusts it over Ava’s freckly nose. ‘Good morning, sleepy heads,’ he says, ‘I was just making some…pancakes!’

  Ava squeals. ‘Whose birthday is this?’ I ask.

  ‘With strawberries from the garden?’ Ava asks Uncle Nik.

  He nods. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Yes! They’re the best in the world.’

  ‘Your girlfriend has taste,’ Nik says.

  Ava and I pull disgusted faces. ‘Ewww! Girlfriend.’

  Ava sticks a finger down her throat. ‘Yuk. Boys!’

  Mum is laughing but I’m not sure why. I shake my head in line with Ava’s and we sit at the table listening to the kettle boiling on the hob, the clatter of plates, and everyone chatting.

  Father cuts the strawberries and Mum unscrews the lid on the honey jar, letting me and Ava dip our fingers in, just this once. I wink at Mum because she always says that.