by Ben Zackheim
“Why are you always protecting them, Rebel?”
“Because you won’t, probably.”
“We swapped with some hikers,” I continued. “They got a meal at Bar 89 and we got 567 new gray hairs.”
“Assholes,” Rebel muttered. “They could have found a spot with more elbow room.”
“Did you pay the bill?” Rose asked.
“What?”
“The bill! Did you pay the Bar 89 bill?”
“Yeah, we prepaid the meal for them,” I said.
“Assholes,” Rebel repeated.
“At least I think we did,” I said. I couldn’t remember if I’d actually given them my credit card or if I’d just told the waitress we wanted to pay for the couple that would be sitting at our table in a few moments.
“You ‘think so’ does not fill me with copious amounts of confidence, Kane,” Rose said, wide-eyed.
“You didn’t pay the bill at Bar 89?” Cassidy yelled from the pilot’s seat. “They know us there!”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll pay it when we get back.”
“If you get back!” Rose hollered. “What if you bite it tonight? Then what?”
I strapped myself into a seat. “Your concern is touching.”
Cassidy turned to face us. “Do not get us barred from the bar the day before our 21st birthdays, Kane.”
“I’ll pay the bill!” I yelled. “Just keep your eyes on the sky, will you?”
He ignored me. “Because I want my first alcoholic drink to be at Bar 89.”
I threw my hands up, exasperated. “Really? I didn’t know that, because you’ve only said it a hundred times!”
“Today,” Rebel muttered.
The helicopter took a dive. Cassidy turned back to the controls. “Hang on,” he yelled over his shoulder. “We’re headed down.”
He brought the helicopter down gently, and we hopped onto the rocky ground. The mountain ahead of us was still illuminated by the lights in the sky.
It looked peaceful enough, but I could sense a buzz of danger underneath everything. Something was waiting for us.
The twins hopped off the craft. “No way, you two,” I said, wagging my finger at them. “You both head back to the city. We’ll let you know if we need your help.”
They didn’t like it, but they knew an order when they heard one.
Rebel and I made sure the twins were far away before we hiked up a hill toward the base of the mountain. I checked my phone for our location. We were hiking up Berjadalur, just east of the town of Akranes.
We trudged along in silence for a few minutes. The dancing lights above us were mesmerizing.
“How are you?” Rebel asked.
“I’m fine, Rebel, and how are you today?”
“Goddammit, Kane. I’m just trying to get rid of this weird vibe.”
“So you thought you’d ask me how I’m doing for the first time in…” I had to think about it. “Ever?”
“Fuck you, then.”
“Fine. Good. I’m fine. Sorry. This mission is making me nervous.”
“It’s just another case,” she said.
“It’s Thor’s hammer!”
She shrugged. “So what? Another dickhead god who probably left it all behind because he was sad no one believed in him anymore.”
“Maybe. It’s not like we deal with gods all the time. It’s our first gob.”
‘Gob’ was a term for a ‘god job.’ Most gobs ended in disappointment, with earthly explanations. But some Spirit missions had panned out to be the real deal over the years.
“What power does Mjölnir have, anyway?” Rebel asked. She was good at magic and hand-to-hand combat. My strength was knowing what the hell was going on because I loved to read books that no one else wanted to read.
And I could shoot the wing off a fly at a thousand feet.
“The hammer does just what the myths say,” I said. “It decimates.”
“That’s not what the vamps want, though.”
“No, they want us in one piece. Though some of them may prefer the eight-piece value meal.”
“Nice choice of words. Well done.”
“It’s all about entertaining you, Rebel.”
“Don’t I know it? Look. There it is.”
I followed her gaze and got distracted by the beauty of our surroundings. It was a beautiful morning that looked like dusk. The sun managed to lay a thin blanket of orange just on the horizon behind us. It covered everything in a soft light.
It was autumn in Iceland so the nights were getting longer and would soon dominate the days. Night would be night and, well, day would be night, too. Being this far north of the equator meant 18 hours of darkness in winter.
A vampire’s dream come true.
The crest of the mountain sat about 1000 feet above us. Two slender slopes rose into the night sky where they met at a peak that would probably give us a great view of Rekjyavik. It was an easy hike compared to the ones we were used to.
We reached the top and enjoyed the view of Iceland’s biggest city. The buildings’ lights glowed on the water of the peninsula, making an upside-down copy of the cityscape.
Maybe it was the view. Maybe it was the fact that Rebel and I were awkward around each other. But whatever the reason, we let our guard down. It was stupid. We both knew we were on a mission.
Whoever stood behind us had a clear shot at the backs of our heads.
Chapter 3
“Psst.”
I turned toward the noise, Glock raised.
Rebel crouched, ready to use her claws, or her magic, or a killer frown. Or all of the above.
A small man stood on a pile of rocks.
“Who are you?” I asked. It was tough to make out his features. He was cloaked in magic. One thing I could make out was a large set of ears.
Pointed ears.
“Demon,” Rebel growled, taking a long stride forward.
“No, not a demon!” the stranger shrieked. A faint glow from his hands illuminated his small face. Tiny black eyes gleamed at us, brows furled. He came into better view. A long beard reached his round stomach, which was clothed in Osh-Kosh overalls. His white collar shirt was filthy. “Not a demon. I am Shlkxchrsew.”
I’d never seen anything like him. “An elf,” I muttered.
“No sir,” he said. “A Travelers’ Friend.”
I holstered my piece. “Yeah? I’ve never met one of you.”
“Pleasure, sir.” He bowed. The haze had lifted from around him. His head was bald as a bowling ball and about as shiny. His black eyes were softened by a kind smile.
“What’s a Travelers’ Friend?” Rebel asked. Her nails were still set to kill.
“They help travelers,” I said, as I gently guided her hands down into a less threatening position. “Each culture has its own. I think the Syrians have a giant.”
“Yes, Christopher,” the Traveler said.
“I thought it was Christophorous,” I said.
Our little friend hopped off his stone stoop. “He goes by Christopher now. Chris if you are a pretty woman. Bit of a bore if you ask me.”
“What should we call you?” I asked.
“I am Shlkxchrslew.”
I’d learned long ago that you needed to give friendly supernaturals a nickname fast, before they got past their awe of us humans. I had no idea why we had that effect on them. Some people say it’s because they’re offshoots of humans and feel deferential when they’re near us.
There was a ‘slaw’ sounding part of his real name so I figured Coleslaw was as good a name as any.
“Hi, Coleslaw,” I said. I guess Chainsaw would have been cooler, but Coleslaw didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he chuckled.
“What do you want?” Rebel asked. She wasn’t letting down her guard yet.
“The lights in the sky led you here,” he said. “I am the second clue. We have been waiting for this day for a long time.”
“Who sent you?” I asked.
“I shall take you to her.�
��
“Who?” we both asked.
“The person who sent me here,” he said, slightly annoyed by what he thought was dimness.
“He’s annoying,“ Rebel said to me. “Why us?” Rebel growled at him.
“Because you are not them.”
“Them who?”
“The blood monsters.”
Rebel and I looked at each other. “You mean the vampires,” I said.
He answered me by turning away and waddling down the hill. “Hurry,” the Traveler said. “We don’t have much time. The blood monsters approach the door. They will have the hammer by the end of today if you don’t get it first.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as I caught up to him.
“To Heimurinn!” he said, as if we were supposed to know where the hell that was. “Hurry.”
I dialed Rose’s cell and noticed that our guide was focused on the terrain below us. It was hard to read those beady eyes, but my best guess was that he was worried about something.
“Why do I feel like Heimurinn’s not on Google Maps?” Rebel asked.
“It is a place in Reykjavik,” Coleslaw said. “It is under the city.” He started to run as I waited for Rose to answer the phone. “Or, that is to say, it is a realm that is accessible from under the city.”
Spoken like a true supernatural.
“Hi boss,” Rose said on the other side of the call. She sounded like she’d just woken up.
“Rose, why are you asleep?”
“Because my internal clock is all messed up from the long nights,” she whined. “This country is like a torture device, Kane!”
“Get Cassidy and tell him to meet us at the drop-off point.”
“What drop-off point?”
“The one you guys just dropped us off at a few hours ago!”
“No time! No time!” the Traveler shouted. He was pulling away from us. I could barely see his little waddling body
The first sign of trouble was the boom.
It was a big damn boom.
The sound surrounded us and made us duck. I glanced over my shoulder and saw, well, something. It was a disturbance in the air around us. The light purple sky was distorted, like looking through curved glass.
Just before the next boom came I thought I could make out the shape of a…
“FOOT!” I yelled. I yanked Rebel toward me and rolled down the hill right as the massive thing slammed the ground she’d been standing on. The rocks under our feet exploded like firecrackers, blasting shards of pain everywhere.
“What… was… that…” Rebel managed to scream as gravity took over and we rolled faster and faster down the steep hill.
I tried to get my feet planted in the ground somehow. There was a cliff with a twenty foot drop just ahead. We’d passed it on the hike up while commenting how most of the mountains of Iceland were quaint with their pleasant slopes and tiny cliffs. At that moment, it looked like Iceland had something to say about that.
The ground started to get rocky. I knew the edge was near.
“Coleslaw!” I yelled.
Travelers are powerful beings. They’re dedicated to helping people away from home. They can guide you, fight for you, and even die for you if they take their job too seriously. They can be strong in some kinds of magic. Usually inconsequential magic, like making machinery break down, or making sugar sweeter.
But I didn’t know they could move earth.
When I started to fall off the cliff I thought that was the end of that. But instead of falling twenty feet, Rebel and I only dropped about two. Our rolling ride started to slow down as the angle got gentler until our momentum was weak enough to stop our forward motion.
The adrenaline felt like the ghosts of 1000 hangovers past but when I got my bearings I looked down on the cliff.
Yeah, down.
Coleslaw had bent the stone of the cliff into an upward arc, like a truck trap on the highway — the ones that catch semis that lose their brakes.
“Daaaaamn, elf,” Rebel shouted down at the Traveler. “That is some cool shit!”
Coleslaw bowed. “Not an elf, but thank you, ma’am.”
Our glee was short-lived as whatever was trying to step on us destroyed Coleslaw’s creation, sending us into freefall.
Coleslaw managed to form a flimsy slide under us but it was a rough ride. We landed hard at his feet.
“What’s after us, Coleslaw?” I asked, as I stood up and ran after him.
“Apu!” he yelled over his shoulder.
A huge rock emerged from the dark sky. I felt the wind of the missile blow by my ear.
“That’s not possible!” I shouted. “Apu are Peruvian mountain spirits! What are they doing in Iceland?”
“Vacationing?” Coleslaw said.
“Was that supposed to be funny?” I asked Rebel who dodged a rolling boulder.
She smiled as she ran for her life. “It kind of was.”
The cloud cover passed and the morning moon shone down on our little game of life and death. The shape of the creature pursuing us flickered into view as the silver blue light covered the world.
“That’s a giant, all right,” Rebel yelled. It was 100 feet tall. At least.
And its knee was bent upward, as if it was about to smash some bugs.
So I did what any other Spirit agent would do under the circumstances. I shot it in the toe, forgetting that I’d loaded explosive bullets.
Apparently, the semi-visible giant was made of stone because a storm of rocks showered us from above. His massive form was suddenly visible. His leg came down hard and splintered in two all the way up to to his waist. He fell to his side and his torso also cracked in two. With one bellow that sounded more like a cave-in, the Apu broke into a million pieces.
We tried to catch our breath in the settling dust.
“That was one shot, by the way,” I said as I held my Glock up in triumph.
Maybe it was the exhaustion of running down an Icelandic mountain. Maybe it was the thrill of escaping a mountain god from Peru.
Whatever the reason, we let our guard down, and that’s a stupid thing to do in our line of work. The only thing that the supernatural does naturally is show up when you least expect it.
Lava started to flow from the biggest chunks of the Apu’s stone corpse. At first, I thought it had caught fire somehow. But I know the smell of lava.
A torrent of orange and black magma shot into the sky like the mountain was blowing its nose. Rebel was fast enough to get a Shield Spell over her head but I wasn’t so lucky. A few stray giblets smacked my clothes and set them on fire. I pulled my jacket off before the fire consumed me.
We both ran. Coleslaw was nowhere in sight. He’d disappeared into the day, night, whatever.
Then I noticed my pants were on fire. I ran while unbuttoning and unzipping them.
“Wooooooo, take it ALL off!” Rebel yelled from behind me.
“Maybe help put out the fire?” I yelled back, a slight crack of desperation in my otherwise manly voice.
An explosion from behind us wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear. The lava was pushing through the crust and flowing. Fast. Lava can move 40 mph when it first tastes the earth’s surface. It wants to eat as much as it can before it settles down for a few billion years. At that moment I was pretty convinced that we’d be its final meal.
The fire coming off of my jeans hadn’t reached my flesh yet but it was about to.
“Stop!” Rebel yelled as the lava from an explosive burp fell down on us. She got the shield over both of our heads just in time. She realized my pants were about to put an end to my manhood and sliced through the cloth with her fingernails.
She flung the flaming slacks into the river of lava behind us.
Directly, on-our-asses behind us.
Chapter 4
I was fighting off lava and nudity at the same time.
I jumped over a boulder with just enough clearance to spare my unreplaceables.
“Looking
good from back here, Kane!” Rebel hollered. “That Pilates crap is working.”
“Shut up and run! There!” I ran to a boulder and climbed to the top. Rebel joined me. As soon as we caught our breath, I told her the plan. “Look for a path uphill.”
She looked me up and down. “You’ve gone nuts!”
“The lava has carved its path. If we can find a route uphill then we won’t have to run from it.”
“I was referring to your nuts,” she managed to say before she choked on a laugh. The heat was becoming unbearable. I saw the perfect escape route.
“I’m glad you find this mess funny.”
“Don’t talk about your nuts that way, partner.”
I had a lot of practice ignoring Rebel, so I decided to put the skill to good use. “Follow me.” I ran for the steady slope ahead of me.
“Kane!” Rebel yelled after me. I knew it was trouble before I even turned around. The lava had stopped flowing. Well, it had stopped flowing downhill. Now it was flowing into itself — squeezing and wrapping around a growing core, and making a high-pitched screech straight out of hell.
“I don’t think I want to stick around to find out what that is,” I hollered over the sound of cracking stone.
“Agreed.”
We scurried up the hill, fighting gravity’s pull.
A rumbling roar made us stop and turn.
Our newest giant was the bigger, badder, fiery brother of the last one. Except he was all too visible.
And he was a rat.
More like a bastard rat spawn of Hell, born of a mother who bred and slew the tortured souls of one million abandoned rat souls. His massive, white-hot eyes told me Mr. Ratty was hungry.
This hunt would not last long. The lava-rat-giant-monster-thing would be on us in two leaps.
It was time to take a look at the situation. It was time for my Lines.
I stopped. The last weapon in my arsenal was Lines. That was what I called my ability to see lines between moving objects. It wasn’t magic. It was a skill — like a sniper seeing the line between the weapon and the target. Or a billiard player and the balls on the table.
“What are you doing, Kane?” Rebel shouted over the hissing rock all around us.
“Toss me! Up there! Half power.” I pointed to the moon above us. Rebel didn’t hesitate. She knew better than that. I didn’t question her abilities. She didn’t question mine. Except when it amused her.