by M. H. Bonham
I felt a lump in my throat. A chance to meet my dad—a man I never knew except what my mom and others told me? “I’d like that.” My voice came out squeaky. Must have been the mead.
My thoughts spun as Tyr and Elryn talked about Thor, but I didn’t really hear them. My father was in Asgard? Why didn’t Elryn tell me this? I had grown up without a dad since he died ending the Drow invasion but somehow lost his life closing the last portal. Could I have a chance to meet him?
Tyr smiled kindly. “Yes, I know Evrardin. He sacrificed his life so that you could grow up in a world in without fear of the Drow. Freyja was quick to grab him before the other pantheons had a chance to take him.”
I blinked. “Other pantheons?”
“Well, the angels tried to snag him, as well as Hades and the Morrigan, but the Valkyries pretty much have the run of the battlefields. So, they grabbed him before anyone else.” He shrugged. “Had I known you were here, I would’ve brought him to Valhalla.”
“He doesn’t come by here much?”
“Not really. He tends to visit our libraries, keep his magic current, and train for Ragnarok.”
“Wait, you have libraries?” I did a doubt take. “I thought the Norse Vikings didn’t even have books.”
Tyr laughed. “Dude, this is the 21st century. We have the Net and the Enchanted Forest, you know.”
I blinked. The Enchanted Forest was the Virtual Reality Net within a Net. Most Normals needed augmentation hardware to access it, but Supernaturals, including many wizards, could tap into the network with their magic because the network ran close to the same brain waves as biological beings. Werewolves discovered it first and since that time other Supes had claims on part of it. Apparently the Norse pantheon had made the leap into the 21st century big time. “Wow, I had no idea.”
“Times change.” Tyr shrugged. A Valkyrie walked by us, carrying a tray of mugs. Tyr reached out with his right arm, only to realize he was missing his hand. “Damn, you know I’m still not used to the handicap.” He glared at the stump and a silver hand and wrist appeared where a normal hand should have been. “You know, everyone expects me to keep the handicap like this is a badge of honor, but quite honestly, I prefer having full mobility.” He grasped a mug and nodded for me to take another mead. Rather than offend the god, I did. “I got the idea from Nuada Airgetlám. When he lost his arm, Dian Cecht gave him a new one out of silver. Mine works much better, though.” He took a swig of mead.
I took a sip and enjoyed the burn of the honey-sweet liquid going down my throat. “Your stories are similar in some ways.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t take an oath that cost him his hand.” Tyr shook his head. “I betrayed a friend for the good of the Universes. Even though he had done no wrong to me.” His gray eyes looked downcast as he studied the mead. “I’d make it up to him if I could.”
I knew the story. After Loki brought his son Fenrir, a young wolf, to Asgard, a seeress foretold that Fenrir would kill Odin in Ragnarok, the final battle at the end of the Universes. Tyr had been Fenrir’s caretaker. In order to chain Fenrir with a magical chain called Gleipnir, Tyr had agreed to put his hand in the wolf’s mouth to assure Fenrir that they would remove the chain. The Asgardians didn’t and Tyr lost his hand. Apparently, the wound cut deep into the god and not just physically.
Elryn nudged me, nearly causing me to commit alcohol abuse and spill my mead. “Hey! Thor and Jörmungandr are here!”
We all turned to watch the fight of all time.
Chapter Two
We all turned to see Thor climbing into the ring. A raucous cheer went up from the crowd as he entered. A tall god with blond hair and a red beard, he wore the simple brown tunic and trousers similar to most Norse gods’ clothing. Red runes decorated the tunic’s hem and sleeve cuff, and he wore red leg wraps from his short boots to his knees. He had braided his long blond hair back and his beard was into two plaits, tied together with a gold ring. Other than that, he wore no other adornment that would mark him as an Asgardian.
He removed his cloak and I noticed he wore a large belt and matching gauntlets that looked like they were made from dragon hide. His famous hammer, Mjolnir, hung from his belt. The fight ring was otherwise empty. He slowly stretched, his legs and back, but his blue eyes searched the crowd expectantly as though he was looking for someone. Elryn turned away, drawing her cloak over her head.
I cocked my head in surprise, but her gray eyes met mine with an unmistakable, Don’t you dare reveal me, if you value your life. I gave her a slight nod and turned back to the ring. I wondered if Elryn was one of Thor’s old flames, and what Thor’s consort, Sif, had to say about such things. I guess what happened in Valhalla stayed in Valhalla. Far be it from me to get her into trouble.
I consider the god: one of the truly heavy hitters of Asgard. Sure, there were other gods who are powerful—Odin, Tyr, Loki, Freyr, and Freyja—but when you think of Norse mythology, you generally think of Thor. True to his legends, he is the most powerful of the gods when it comes to strength—and he has magical talismans to make him even stronger. It’s funny, because even in a Christian society, people know about Thor. Guess the Asgardians have a healthy share of stock with Marvel. I pondered how the god felt about the sex change.
Watching Thor stretch out made me realize just how puny we mortals are—even the wizards. Imagine the biggest bodybuilder you ever saw and then add even more slabs of muscle on top of muscle. Yeah, that was Thor. And he crackled with magic, making me believe that one lightning bolt would end any argument in a manner of minutes. I’ve heard of other wizards taking Thor on in St. Louis and Denver and winning, but Hells Bells, people, here he was not even in his glory, and he was freaking scary.
I’ve heard that gods keep versions of themselves around in the elements they derive their power from so if one version gets killed, another just takes over. That’s probably how we get lightning storms in different parts of the world, and the gods in different areas go by different names. Just a manifestation of the same god.
At that moment, Thor met my gaze and his expression grew thoughtful. I gave him a nod of courtesy as he studied my companions briefly. His brow furrowed as it settled on Elryn, but a tall, lanky fellow with red hair and no beard tapped his shoulder and said something to Thor, effectively distracting him. For a brief moment, the lanky, red-haired god smirked at me and then continued his conversation.
“That’s Loki,” Tyr shouted above the cheers and boos. “I wonder where Jörmungandr is.”
Loki was still smirking as he talked to Thor and then hopped out of the ring and disappeared in the crowd. On the other side of the massive ring, fog began to coalesce. The crowd erupted in cheers and boos; most drew back a healthy distance away from the ringside. I watched in utter horror as a large black serpent head emerged from the mist. It looked like a cross between a snake and a dragon with a snake’s head and a dragon’s horns and ears. It had massive fangs that dripped venom as it walked out of the Gateway.
I say “walked” because it had two front legs with massive claws that also dripped venom. The long, serpentine body had thick scales that put a dragon’s armor to shame. It towered over Thor and the crowd by a good thirty feet or so. As its back legs cleared through the portal, it pulled a ridiculously long tail from it and cracked it like a whip.
As frightening as the monster was, this was not Jörmungandr’s true size. Technically, he encircled the Earth beneath the waves and the land, and he was still so big that he could grasp his tail in his mouth like an Ouroboros. But even this “small” version caused me to quail. I mean, I had ridden dragons, for gods’ sakes, and this thing was bigger. Much bigger. One bad step and we’d all be crushed by snake coils weighing in the megatons.
The fight’s referee stood between the two combatants. He was a tall warrior, dressed similarly to the Asgardians, only he wore black and his skin was pale blue. I stared for a moment. He had to be a Jotunn, that is, a Frost Giant. I had no idea Odin would allow such creatures in the heart of
Valhalla. The referee shouted something, but damned if I could hear it over the general hubbub of the crowd. “What’s he saying?” I yelled to Tyr, noting that the crowd’s volume had increased. I was glad Elryn had given me earplugs. I’d be deaf by now.
Tyr smiled. “He’s going over the rules, which is ridiculous. There aren’t any rules except they can’t leave the ring and they can’t cause Ragnarok. Otherwise, they forfeit the match.”
“I would think throwing a fight by causing Ragnarok would be the least of our concerns,” I shouted back. “I mean, come on? Ragnarok? I think everyone would be too busy to care about a fight.”
“You’d be surprised.” Tyr glanced over at Elryn. “Is she going to hide from Thor the entire match?”
“Dunno.” I shrugged. “What’s with that anyway? Thor has a thing for her?”
Tyr laughed. “Try Sif.”
My mouth made an “O,” but no sound came out. Apparently I got the wrong impression. I glanced at Elryn and then back at the god. “You mean her and Sif are…?”
Tyr nodded. “Were.”
I shut my mouth and shook my head. Clueless, I tell you. I figured a jealous wife, not a jealous husband. “Well, okay then.”
The crowd cheers interrupted me and I saw the Frost Giant raise his hands and motion them together for the fight to begin. Before anyone could blink, Jörmungandr leapt on the hapless referee and tore him to pieces. Blue and black blood sprayed the crowd in horrifying gore, but the crowd just cheered and the Midgard serpent leapt at Thor.
But Thor was no longer there. Somehow while Jörmungandr was busy disassembling the ref, Thor had gotten behind the serpent and slammed Mjolnir into the side of its head. The Midgard serpent swayed from the impact and lashed its tail into the thunder god with a resounding crack. The force of the blow threw Thor from its back and slammed him into one of the ring posts with a metallic twang.
The crowd went wild. Some of the crowd shouted “Jörmungandr!” in a chant, while others shouted “Thor! Thor! Thor! Thor!” to counteract the cheers from the other side. Jörmungandr was right on top of Thor, chomping down on the god’s body. The creature’s head was so immense, it could fit several men in its maw without stretch its jaws. The Thor crowd booed, just barely overcoming the cheers from the Jörmungandr fans.
Loki appeared right beside us. He gave me a cursory glance before turning to the god of laws. “You owe me, Tyr. Pay up.”
Tyr smiled. “Wait—the fight’s not over.”
As if on cue, Jörmungandr took a huge gulp and swallowed Thor whole. The Midgard serpent fans went wild. “Sure looks like it to me.” Loki cast an eye to the ring and then back at Tyr.
Tyr was about to say something when Jörmungandr swayed again. If the monster could look green, this one just did as Thor apparently gave it a serious case of indigestion. Suddenly, the Midgard serpent exploded from the inside out and sprayed us with black blood and ichor. The blood was clearly acidic and caused the crowd to panic as they tried to get the burning stuff off their skin. I missed most of the deadly shower, but a few drops landed on my cloak and burnt right through it.
Thor emerged, bloody and covered with acidic blood. He didn’t seem to notice as the blood burnt his skin or ate holes in his clothing. Instead, he swung Mjolnir against the serpent’s back, and with a loud crack! broke Jörmungandr’s spine. The Midgard serpent collapsed in a mound of gore.
Loki swore and handed what looked like a card to Tyr. Tyr grinned and stuffed it in a pouch at his waist. “He got lucky,” Loki grumbled.
Tyr chuckled. “That’s what you said the last time. How many favors do you owe me now?”
Loki said something under his breath and stomped out, pushing his way through the crowd.
I watched the god of mischief leave and turned to Tyr. “That’s it? What happens now?”
“We’ll have a fight tomorrow and see if Loki can come up with a better strategy for his son.” Tyr shrugged.
“Jörmungandr isn’t dead?” I blinked.
“In a manner of speaking, he is.” The god nodded. “But he and anyone killed in fights will be resurrected tomorrow. That’s the magic of Valhalla.”
“I heard of some fight club in St. Louis that does that too.” I looked over the mess that was Jörmungandr. Already the blood and gore was evaporating like it was water on a hot day.
“They got their idea from us.” Tyr shrugged. “Valhalla is mainly for training the Einherjar, but someone got bored, so we started doing fight matches to entertain the troops. It improves the Einherjar’s morale to see Thor winning against Jörmungandr.”
“So, the ref is okay?” I was relieved to hear he wasn’t actually dead.
“Yeah, but I don’t know how long he’s going to referee if Jörmungandr keeps killing him. Good refs are hard to come by.”
Thor pulled himself out of the ring and began walking toward us. The crowd parted on seeing the biggest badass of Asgard walking among them. I glanced at Elryn, who shrank into the crowd and tried to get away, only the crowd had gotten larger and were pressing to get a look at the thunder god.
A towel materialized in Tyr’s left hand and he tossed it to Thor, who deftly caught it and wiped the blood from his face and beard. “Nicely done,” Tyr remarked. “Loki owes us two favors now.”
Thor grinned while rubbing the acidic blood from his arms. “You like that little explosion? I don’t think the snake expected that.”
“Good thing you didn’t wear good clothing. You’d never hear the end of it with Sif.”
“Speaking of Sif…” Thor shot a dark look at Elryn while she was pushing through the crowd. “Is that Elryn?”
Tyr shrugged. “And if it is? That was a long time ago.”
“Not long enough.” Thor took a menacing step forward toward Elryn. Shit. He was going to pound my partner flat for past indiscretions. No matter if she’d come back to life the next day, I didn’t need the thunder god wailing on her. Even if Elryn hadn’t saved my life enough times, just the idea of a big bully beating on a woman was enough to piss me off.
I stepped between the god and Elryn, my magic crackling in my fists. “Elryn is with me.”
Thor sized me up. “And who are you, little man?”
“Ironspell. And Elryn is under my protection.”
“Ironspell…” Thor raised an eyebrow. “This Evrardin’s kid?”
Shit, did everyone know Evrardin?
Tyr nodded. “A tough kid. He’s one of mine, anyway, so he’s under my protection.”
That was news to me. I was about to say something when I remembered that those who upheld the law were under his protection. That included police officers and soldiers who fought on the side of good.
Thor gave Tyr a measured look before shrugging. Then the thunder god slapped me on the back, causing me to spray my mead over the people nearby and stagger. “I like your attitude, kid. You’re worthy of Valhalla.” He wiped his hands and took Tyr aside. They disappeared as if they had never been there.
“Hey! You got me wet!” An Orc who had been standing with a group of his friends glared at me.
“Sorry, Dude, you just saw Thor slap me on the back,” I said. “Let me get you another drink.”
“This was my favorite tunic.” The Orc glared at me as his fingers curled into fists. His buddies gathered behind him.
I frowned. The brown tunic showed stains from prior meals and reeked. The mead would probably take out the stains. I doubted he was upset about the shirt and was just looking for a fight. “I know a good cleaner who can take care of that…”
The Orc loomed over me, cracking his knuckles. “I think you meant to do it.”
“Leave the kid alone.” Elryn tossed her hood back and drew her short sword. “This one is not worth your trouble. Let me get you a drink.”
I glanced at her. “Yeah, what Obi-wan says.”
The Orcs hesitated on seeing an Elven warrior backing me up. But then, Tuzren popped in. “Did I miss anything?” The little demo
n was blitzed and swaying as he flew.
“Nah, nothing Tuz. Just talking to our newest Orc buddies.”
My voice sounded strained, but apparently Tuzren didn’t catch on. He flapped over the Orc who looked the most menacing and wrapped his arms around the Orc—as far as they would go. A wing flopped over the Orc’s face. “I love you, maaaaan!” he drawled out and planted a big demon kiss on the Orc’s mug.
A deadly silence ensued, like the calm before the storm. We all stared in horror at the little demon as he hugged his new BFF and how his new BFF punched the living shit out of him with just one fist. Tuzren went sailing over the crowd like somebody drop-kicked him.
“Well, shit!” I ducked the nearest Orc’s haymaker and drew my Vorpal blade, Drowslayer. Elryn leapt in front of me as the Orc tried to sweep my legs out from under me as I drew the sword.
A note to writers who write fight scenes: drawing a sword in a confined area isn’t as easy as they make it look on TV. I’m just saying. I had to draw the blade and not take out any onlookers with its sharpened steel. I also had to avoid cutting Elryn. So, I backed up and the peeps around me figured it out real quick and got the hell out of my way. At this point—heh, point...get it?—I was wishing I had a short sword like Elryn’s. I swung the Vorpal blade like the amateur I was and the sword took over from there.
It was probably sighing at my idiotic moves and launched into full-on-killing-spree mode. If a sword could think, it probably thought, Why the fuck did I get this bozo? I could’ve had Inigo Montoya. Before the Orc could take me down, I decapitated him in a shower of blood. For a split second, I stare in horror at what I had done, but then his buddies drew their swords and it was game-on.
Only, we weren’t the only ones fighting. Suddenly, everyone in Valhalla was Kung-Fu fighting, if not sword fighting. Didn’t seem to matter who was killing whom, but if you were part of a particular nationality, the fighting seemed to go along those lines. With the exception of the Vikings, who seemed to take great joy in killing anyone.
One of the Vikings somehow got hold of an AK-47 and did the whole spray-and-pray thing. The entire hall erupted in gunfire as other soldiers shot back, and more than once, I had a bullet wiz by me. Tuzren got hit with one of the rounds in the wing, which caused him to drop like a Vogon construction ship. He tumbled into a mass of Goblins.