“I should never presume special treatment,” I whispered, covering my mouth as if yawning. “I’m not special. And shouldn’t forget that.”
Treth snorted. Seemed he disagreed.
Agent Brown had once commented on the odd individuals at the Foreign Affairs ministry. In an age of magic and monsters, international relations was complicated. And, whenever a new state managed to carve itself a little bit of paradise, it wanted to introduce itself to Hope City. The Titan’s city held some prestige and legitimacy and being recognised by it and entering into treaties would help cement the survival of any newly formed country.
Too bad the infamous queue to enter could last longer than some of the nations lining up for a meeting.
I’d heard the stories, of course, but I had never truly fathomed the menagerie inside the Ministry. Upon entering and bypassing a security checkpoint, I was immediately greeted by a foyer dominated by a line of reception tables, all manned by stern looking humans. I mention the race because humans weren’t the only people present.
From a cursory glance, I saw an elf applying for a passport, a centaur taking up an entire row of chairs in the sitting area, a gaggle of goblins trying their utmost to look over the reception desk, and even a dryad arguing with a pale, cloaked man that I’d bet my swords was a vampire.
I had never seen such diversity before. And I prided myself on my experiences with non-humans.
“Why are all these people here?” Treth asked, awed.
“This is the behind-the-scenes of geopolitics, my friend,” I said aloud, not caring if my escort heard me over the cacophony of voices. “The bureaucracy and the waiting. The agonising push and pull of paperwork that allows nations to exist, invade and fall.”
“Looks complicated.”
“It is.”
“And that is necessary?”
I shrugged. “Probably not.”
The Whiteshield agent did not seem to have noticed me talking. If he had, he politely ignored me.
“Ms…”
I raised my hand to halt him.
“Please. Let’s not cause a stampede. I get mobbed enough when I’m on the clock.”
The merc, despite the hardened reputation of his employer, looked chagrined. “Apologies, ma’am. Please come through here. Past the dwarves and up the stairs.”
The dwarves in question, all in uniform light blue, seemed to be a delegation from a city-state in the Badlands. I’d read about them a few days ago. Here was hoping they got their meeting organised before the Ogre Horde found the city and stomped all over it.
I’d ask why citizens needing to fetch their passports had to line up next to delegations from foreign nations, but I already knew the answer. Government was inherently inefficient. It was like they needed to suck on purpose. And, if that meant making the President of the Thirteen States sit next to an elderly gent needing a stamp in his passport, then so be it.
Soon enough, the hum of voices became muffled, as the agent led me up the stairs to a balcony looking over the foyer and towards a service door into a dark stairwell.
“The VIP entrance,” the agent remarked. I couldn’t help but snort in surprise and amusement. It was not every day that you got a merc with some humour.
We scaled the stairwell in relative silence. Up, and up. I was the first to break.
“Do you know who I’m meeting?” I asked.
“Agent Brown,” he replied. No hint of the wit from earlier.
“And?”
Silence.
“Why is it that Whiteshield warriors always look like they’re ready to fight a war?” Treth asked, manifesting as he scaled the stairway alongside us. His strides were effortless, as if he was trying to mock me.
I looked the agent up and down. His face was stern. His gait, professional. In his white and dark grey tactical gear, he was ready to fight a small battle. He didn’t carry a sub-machine gun or rifle, but I did see a holster at his side.
Whiteshield operators never carried just a pistol. Unless the hidden firepower they had at their disposal beat out conventional firearms.
I’d almost tangled with Whiteshield once. I didn’t plan to ever again. Why did they always look ready to fight? Because they were. I don’t think the Zulu Empire to the east was afraid of the CDF. They were afraid of Whiteshield.
Finally, we stopped by a door many stories up. The agent opened the door and then made room for me to enter.
“Third door on the left, Ms Drummond.”
“Thank you.”
He let me pass and then closed the door. I was alone. In an empty hall. Just me, my ghost and my anxiety.
“Why are you so worried?” Treth asked. “You’ve met her hundreds of times.”
“I’ve met her once.”
“Really? I could have sworn it was more.”
“We then corresponded by letter, until she fell off the radar.”
And any sense of familiarity I had with the goddess I had once fawned over had wilted, until she was once again mythological. But now, she was back. Behind this door. Behind it with Phillip Brown, and someone else.
I gulped and rubbed my hand through my hair. Greasy. Oh, Athena! No, I mean Rifts! She can’t read my mind, can she? But she’ll notice my hair…
What if she expected me to bring the Aegis? Should I have? Would that have been too much? Wait…I could have brought her book for her to sign! And Mandy’s…
My heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest, as my hand felt limp on its way to the doorhandle. I froze.
What if she knew how long I’d been waiting here? Agonising over such trivialities. She’d be ashamed of me. She wouldn’t want to hire me. Even if I offered to do it pro bono. Oh Rifts!
Before I could stop him, Treth opened the door. And, as the door swung ajar, I was greeted by Athena’s voice, raised in fury.
“Fancy words, for a barbarian! How can you call yourselves anything other than gods of violence and debauchery?”
“Bah! Says a goddess of nothing. A charlatan deceiving farmfolk. How are your cousins? Hiding in the alleys and among the pig-shit?” A deep, heavily accented, male voice responded. I could have sworn I’d heard it somewhere before.
“Charlatan?” Athena replied, aghast. “I am a God of Olympus! Perhaps not a god that made this world, but neither did you. You’re nothing more than a shepherd of thugs and Vikings.”
“God of Olympus? How many of you attended your sweet Hermes’ funeral? I heard that none of you had the courage to appear.”
Silence followed. Just for a second. But I could feel the heat in the air. It made it too hot to enter. I wanted to know who this man disrespecting Athena was. To confirm my unbelievable suspicions, but not yet.
When gods quarrel, mortals must be careful to not be squashed.
“I am an immortal. A sorceress. I have watched civilisations rise and crumble into dust,” Athena hissed. I’d never heard this much emotion in her voice. Ever. “And I demand the respect that is due to me!”
“Want respect?” A chair was knocked onto the floor, followed by another. “Show me something worthy of respect. Hoist your spear, dame of war! Give me an excuse to expel the charlatan that sullies the domains of my father and brother!”
“Your brother can keep his title. But I wouldn’t give that one-eyed tyrant any claim over wisdom.”
“Enough!” Phillip Brown yelled, a shiver in his voice I’d never heard before. But it silenced the room. As the gods stopped their arguing, Phillip exhaled.
“Kat, please enter.”
Slowly, I took a step forward. Athena was much like I remembered her. Mousy, messy dark brown hair, and a fancy dark blue turtleneck. A dishevelled little owl perched itself on her shoulder. She looked more at home in a library than in a pantheon. Which made me admire her all the more.
Her opponent, standing at least a foot above her head, wearing a suit and tie that seemed close to bursting, stared at me with piercing blue eyes, that provided an icy complement to his f
iery red beard. Even without the short-handled hammer by his side, I knew who this was.
The world’s top monster hunter. Leader of the Thunder Corps. High Marshal of the Scandinavian League. The God of Thunder.
Thor.
I considered bowing.
Athena, much to my surprise, reddened.
“Hello, Kat,” she said. “Long time. I hope the Aegis has served you well.”
“This is the famous Kat Drummond?” Thor asked, disbelieving. His voice was deep. Like thunder. “Where is your famous coat? And your sword?”
“The coat had a cold. Needed to be hung up over the fire. As for my sword…”
I held out my hand. Treth obliged, dropping Ithalen into my hand.
Athena could see Treth, and I noted the inquisitive look in her eye. She wanted to analyse my spectral companion, but a glance at the surprise in Thor’s eyes stopped her. She didn’t want to spoil the trick.
“The famous Ithalen,” he said, awed, as he approached. He stretched out a pair of tennis racket sized hands and looked at me pleadingly. I couldn’t help but balk a bit at his icy eyes.
“Can I see the blade?”
“Depends. Can I see Mjolnir?”
Thor laughed, a deep bellowing laugh, filled with genuine mirth. I had to admit to being on edge after eavesdropping what sounded like the cusp of a divine war, but the sincere good humour in Thor’s laugh couldn’t help but disarm me.
As if taking his cue, Phillip sidled towards us, taking both our shoulders and leading us back towards the chairs, which he promptly righted.
“It is good that we are all getting along now,” Phillip said, eyeing Athena, who was staring daggers at Thor, who was enraptured as he stared at Ithalen, still in my hand.
“I hope that the Last Light only heard a bit of the clamour, but no matter. We can proceed…”
“Fine!” Thor suddenly interrupted, as he unbuckled the hammer from his belt. “A look for a look. Can I hold the blade?”
I raised my eyebrow sceptically. I knew that Thor had a reputation for being carefree. Much like in the myths. But, I had imagined something a bit different. Still, Mjolnir…
I offered him the blade, but then hesitated. Treth watched, curious. He didn’t fear for the blade. He knew he could just snatch it if need be. Pickpockets were no match for my ghostly bodyguard!
“Won’t Mjolnir be too heavy for me? I’m not its owner.”
Thor looked confused, and then grinned mischievously through his fiery beard.
“Oh! The myth. A story we told mortals so they wouldn’t try anything.”
“And you call us charlatans,” Athena muttered, crossing her arms and legs irritably.
I let Thor hold Ithalen as he handed over his hammer. It was a bit heavy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. A good weight for working an anvil. But, I couldn’t imagine swinging it around in a fight. Too slow. Too cumbersome. Zombies could mob me before I recovered from my swing.
“Sharp, but so thin. How could this behead the Great Wolf?” Thor muttered, analysing the blade.
Athena began tapping her foot, irritably. Phillip checked his watch.
“Perhaps, we both have the tools we were meant to have,” I said, finally offering Mjolnir back.
Thor looked up, surprised to still see me there. A trait that Athena and he might have in common.
“Ah, yes. And all the better the world is for it.”
We exchanged our weapons and I allowed Treth to take Ithalen back, causing Thor and Phillip to blink again in surprise while Athena smirked, as one does when they can see through a magician’s trick.
“If there isn’t anything more to discuss,” Phillip continued, exasperated. “Can I please introduce everyone formally?”
“No need, agent,” Athena replied. “We are all acquainted now. Let’s proceed.”
Phillip looked close to exploding from frustration. Good!
“Kat,” Athena continued, interrupting Phillip again as he tried to speak. “We brought you here to discuss a matter that may not come to pass but, if it does, will require your expertise.”
“Why the layers of mystery? She is a warrior. Speak plainly,” Thor interjected, loudly.
Athena grew red. “I agreed to help you because we have a mutual foe, reaver! But my patience wears thin.”
Thor squinted in surprise. “Are you really hurt, maiden? It was just a flyting.”
“Flyting is typically in verse,” Athena replied, sounding both academic and angry.
“Oh? I thought I was speaking so. But my English…it isn’t so good.”
I sensed a lie, but also saw how this wasn’t getting us anywhere.
“Please,” I interrupted, raising my voice. Phillip looked relieved, but my desire for his pain wasn’t enough that I wanted the gods to quarrel again. “Why did you bring me here? Which mutual foe? You guys obviously despise each other, so it best be Satan himself you guys want me to beat up.”
“Close,” Phillip said, calmly. He seemingly had had enough of delays. “As you know, Thor Odinson represents the military interests of the Scandinavian League. He is here on official business. At the behest of Athena of Olympus, I set up this meeting between all of us to discuss your participation in a possible military operation.”
I stood up. “I’m no soldier, agent. I’ve told you this before. Slay your own monsters.”
I turned to leave.
“Kat,” Athena said, her voice giving me pause. “This isn’t any old war.”
“But it isn’t a hunt either, is it?” I looked both gods in the eyes, scanning over them. They looked…nervous.
“Hear him out,” Athena said, indicating Thor. There was no hint of their previous squabble.
I turned but didn’t sit down.
“Drummond…” Thor started, hesitating as he tried to find the words. Rich of him for interrupting Athena when he was struggling to articulate his thoughts.
“Last Light,” Thor continued. “We need your help. My father and I. And Scandinavia. My country is in danger, and we…I think you’re the only one who can help us.”
“My home is Hope City. You’re the leader of the Thunder Corps! I’m sure you and your comrades can unravel whatever puzzle has happened in Europe. I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”
“Wars ripple, Drummond,” Phillip explained. “The last time there was a war in Europe, it pulled the world into it. Like it or not, this does concern you. It concerns all of us.”
There was a sincerity and seriousness in the Foreign Affairs agent I hadn’t seen before. And it just made me even more anxious. What were they expecting from me? I was standing in a room with the God of Thunder and Goddess of War and Wisdom. And they were looking to me for help! Had the world gone crazy?
“You want me to help you fight the Holy Roman Empire,” I announced, cutting to the chase.
“Ah, so you aren’t completely ignorant of world affairs,” Phillip exclaimed.
I glared at him. “My major was history. And when the less than holy nor Roman zombie that Napoleon Bonaparte put down rears its head again, I notice. But this isn’t a job for me. I hunt monsters. If this concerns Hope City, send the CDF.”
“If we could spare a single man from the Three Point Line, then Vienna, Berlin and Rome would all be flying the white raven. But you know we can’t do that. This isn’t the type of war soldiers can fight.”
“And that’s why we need you,” Athena continued. “You know my view on the state of politics in Europe, Kat. I care nothing for it. If the map is blue, red or pink, it doesn’t matter. But I do care about the health of the world. And that is what is under threat.”
Perhaps it was the fangirl inside of me, or perhaps it was the sincere desperation in Athena’s eyes, but I slowly walked back to my chair and sat down.
“We aren’t sure when it will happen,” Athena explained. “But we know it’s probably inevitable. There is a group located within the Holy Roman Empire calling itself the Conclave of the 6th Convent.�
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“I know.”
Only Athena didn’t look shocked at my proclamation. Phillip’s mouth was agape. I repressed the desire to smirk.
You aren’t the only one who knows things, Agent Brown!
“Then you must also know what this Conclave is capable of. We believe they are developing magical weapons of immense power within the walls of this 6th Convent. Weapons that could rip open the fabric of this Realm.”
“And you want me to help destroy this place?”
Athena nodded, almost reluctantly. I sensed both urgency and hesitation in her tone. She had to have exhausted all other options to have brought this to me.
“Why me? The Thunder Corps could blitz it. My companion visited the outskirts of the facility before. It isn’t hard to get to.”
“It doesn’t exist in this world,” Thor said, staring into space. “And, despite all my power, we haven’t been able to pierce the veil.”
“But I believe that you could,” Athena explained.
Athena knew about Treth. And my powers. But as I glanced towards Phillip and his knowing gaze, I realised that he knew as well. But Athena wouldn’t have told him. Would she?
“Are you sure?” I asked, watching Phillip for any indication of the extent of his knowledge.
Athena glanced towards Phillip. She was watching what she said. To keep my powers a secret. Not her, then.
“Your expertise with the magic and your survival on Avathor attests to your…ingenuity. I believe that you are our best bet to pierce the void-wall at the 6th Convent.”
I didn’t reply immediately. It was all too much. Couldn’t they see? I wasn’t special. I just had a sword and a ghost giving me oftentimes bad advice. I couldn’t do everything. And I was tired.
But, if not me, who?
I took a deep breath. “When will this need to happen?”
“Immediately,” Thor announced, shocking both Athena and Phillip.
“We spoke about this!” Athena responded, angrily. “We must use the cover of war to hide the strike force. We cannot attack the Convent until Rome is secure, at the very least. Attack now and losing your precious Finnish fiefdoms to the Russians will be the least of your problems.”
Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) Page 3