Loki's Gambit, page 135
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Bohdi almost snorts. Why should he remember them? He doesn’t remember his own parents.
Fenrir whines again. Bohdi hears Amy say, “I better let her out.”
“I’m not an idiot,” says Valli, brushing Nari’s hand away. Turning to Bohdi, Valli says, “And when we find him, he’ll join us. The revolution will succeed.” His lip curls. “And Asgard will burn.”
Bohdi rolls his eyes and sneers. “Don’t be a psychopath.” Bohdi might like to see Odin burn, but some of the other people in Asgard are alright. Especially Gabbar and Pascal, the two Einherjar who were their guides and guards.
“Why you …” Valli starts to hiss, coming toward Bohdi. But Nari puts a hand on his chest and says something in Asgardian.
Bohdi flicks his lighter. From his feet comes a yip. Looking down, he sees Fenrir standing on all fours, mouth open, tongue out, rat-like snout pointed up at him. Bohdi’s eyes go wide and he laughs aloud. Stooping down, he tries to pat the little dog, but she wiggles away too fast. “She’s better!” he shouts. For a moment he just sits on his heels dumbstruck, watching the little animal run back in the direction of the arbor. And then bouncing up, he walks to Amy, arms outstretched. “You’re a genius! I could kiss you!”
“Don’t,” says Beatrice. The umbrella tip falls to Bohdi’s stomach. “Stop right there.”
Bohdi does, but he blows Amy a kiss with both hands. He feels weightless. Like a strong gust of wind would blow him away.
Amy doesn’t say anything. Or look at him. Pony tail whipping in the wind, eyes on Fenrir, her frown just deepens. “I didn’t realize it would work this fast … ”
“What would work?” says Nari.
“We have to go back to the hospital. There are agents there …” Amy says. “More protection.”
Fenrir’s ears go up. She runs down the path beneath the arbor and then vanishes in some bushes.
“A squirrel,” says Beatrice.
“We have to go,” says Amy, looking around nervously. “Fenrir,” she calls, moving beneath the long arbor. “Fenrir!”
“You named your dog Fenrir?” asks Valli.
“I’m not sure it’s a dog,” Nari whispers.
“You’re right, it doesn’t look anything like Fenrir,” says Valli.
“Amy,” says Beatrice, taking off after her granddaughter.
“What did Amy do?” Sigyn asks Bohdi.
Turning to her, he grins triumphantly. “Fenrir was paralyzed like Steve, and Amy figured out how to fix them by making them magical.”
“Humans can’t do that,” says Sigyn.
Bohdi lifts his chin and raises an eyebrow. “Can now.” He puts his hand to his chest and gives a shallow bow. “I helped by stealing stuff.”
“You’re a thief!” says Valli. “Father was a thief.”
Bohdi straightens. “I am not a thief. I only steal when the occasion demands it. I am a professional hacker!”
Looking toward the trees Nari says, “I don’t see any magical aura around the dog.”
“It doesn’t take a lot of magic to heal neural injuries,” says Sigyn.
Eyes on Amy, Nari says softly, “If Dr. Lewis did what you said she did, she is a genius.” Bohdi’s eyes narrow at Nari, he doesn’t like how he says that …
Sigyn starts walking toward the arbor. “And she is in danger.”
Bohdi looks to Amy. Her back is to him, she’s bent over, calling to her dog. A frigid gust of wind ruffles his hair, and his heart drops. He breaks into a run in Amy’s direction, quickly passing Sigyn and catching up to Beatrice.
“Fenrir, come here, girl!” Amy says, running around one of the arbor’s crumbling columns. Fenrir darts away, stops at a tree beside the structure, looks up, and gives a woof.
“Leave the squirrel alone!” shouts Beatrice.
Two steps later Beatrice and Bohdi are with Amy beneath the tree. Nari, Valli, and Sigyn are there an instant later. Amy doesn’t seem to see them. She’s trying to catch Fenrir, who’s running around the trees and arbor columns in a gleeful frenzy. Her back legs are still stiff, but she moves impressively quick.
Bohdi, Beatrice, Nari, Valli, and Sigyn bend down to help her. Fenrir’s so low to the ground, she easily evades everyone’s hands.
Bohdi looks back the way they had come. He sees nothing. All he hears is the rush of cars from Lake Shore Drive, and the gentle lap of waves from the beach nearby. His nose doesn’t tickle. And he’s starting to feel silly.
Sigyn suddenly spins in place. “I sense magic … ”
“Where?” says Beatrice. “Here?”
“No,” says Sigyn, shaking her head. “From the direction we just came … ”
Beside them, Valli raises his head, like a dog catching a scent. “It’s Odin’s magic.”
Fenrir stops weaving between the columns and the trees, and her ears perk up. She begins to growl, and then she lunges in the direction they came. Leaping sideways, Amy catches the dog, nearly falling over in the process. From somewhere, Bohdi hears the sound of thunder. He looks up, half expecting rain—or Thor. Instead, through the trellis and the tree branches he sees winged women, spears glowing in their hands. Spinning, he follows their path as much as he can with his eyes. From their shouts he thinks they have landed just to the east of them.
Fenrir’s growls snaps his attention back to Earth. Leaning over Amy’s shoulder, the dog is growling and barking fiercely to the west and the empty path they just came from. Bohdi swallows, the sound of thunder rises—
“Shit,” mutters Sigyn, looking in the same direction. “Cavalry … ”
The little dog turns her head to the south and growls again.
He feels a tickle in his nose. The sound of thunder grows louder, and Sigyn’s words connect in his mind. Heart sinking, he squints and looks quickly to the north and the south. He sees a shimmer, like heat waves on pavement, perhaps fifty meters away in each direction. The tickle in his nose intensifies, the roar grows louder, and the ground beneath him trembles.
“We’re surrounded!” Nari shouts, but Bohdi can barely hear him.
Here and there he catches glimpses of … hooves maybe? Horse ears? A bit of human chin?
“Magical armor—even the horses wear it,” Amy says, suddenly very close to him. “It doesn’t grant true invisibility so much as reflect the world around it.”
Over the thunderous din of hooves he hears the clink of metal on pavement. Slinging his paint gun around, he peers into the trees. The scene isn’t quite right. Where he should be seeing glimpses of the pier’s lone skyscraper, he sees reflections of the beach. Where he should see the beach he sees reflections of the skyscraper.
Invisible or not, their enemy is still hard to see. The paint balls would help make them more visible, but there’s so many, he has no idea where to shoot first. There is the sound of steel ringing on cement, and footfalls on sod, and it is like a shimmering river is flooding in front of the barely-visible horses. In the glinting river he sees bits of chin beneath visors, swords—and worst, the spears that shoot molten plasma.
“Infantry,” mutters Sigyn.
The river of armor stops moving, and the thundering of hooves comes to a halt. What is left is the occasional clink of armor, a few whinnies, shouts in Asgardian, and hooves stomping. Bohdi’s eyes slide down the path they were coming from. And his breath catches. Every square foot of pavement reflects the trees and sky.
“Jesus Christ, Odin sent an army,” says Nari.
Sigyn and Valli’s head whip in Nari’s direction.
Nari shrugs and grimaces. “I’ve picked up local slang.”
A voice rises from the sea of glittering armor. “The incarnation of divine love and sacrifice will not help you now. Stand down, and no one will be hurt.” The voice has a definite Hindi accent. Bohdi knows that voice.
“Oh, no,” Amy says, expressing Bohdi’s feelings exactly. He hears a single set of footsteps come closer.
“Should I fire?” asks Valli.
“No,” hiss Nari, Bohdi, Beatrice, Amy, and Sigyn all at once.
Fenrir growls.
There is the sound of crystal sliding against metal, and a visor rises in the sea of reflective armor. The face that appears beneath is dark brown, and has a thick jet-black mustache. Bohdi’s heart sinks.
“Gabbar,” Amy whispers.
Bohdi swallows. Gabbar is a good guy. He had wanted Bohdi to become an Einherjar, and he helped Amy and Bohdi escape—well, not on purpose. But it had been Gabbar’s idea for Bohdi to propose to Amy before Odin claimed her for himself. Odin never took the women of the Einherjar. It was bad for morale. If Bohdi hadn’t proposed, he would have been separated from Amy, and they might never have gotten away.
Beside Bohdi, Beatrice whispers, “I’ve only got one shot … I can’t clear them all.”
Valli looks down at the flamethrower in Beatrice’s hand. Seemingly oblivious to the threats around them he coos. “A DM34! I like you, old woman!”
Bohdi bites his lip. And then he blinks. Valli is shimmering. In his hand is a samurai sword, on his back is an AK-47. Bohdi’s eyes slide to Nari. An empty scabbard has appeared at his side, and he’s peering through the sights of an M-16. He hears the release of a safety. He looks and sees Sigyn holding a Beretta pistol.
“I don’t suppose those guns have magical armor-piercing bullets?” Bohdi whispers.
“A few,” says Nari. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Bohdi decides he’ll take “a few” to mean essentially “no.”
“If you hit their visors with the paint gun,” Valli hisses, “they’ll have to raise them. We’ll have clear shots of their faces.”
Bohdi stares out at the sea of shifting reflections, plasma-shooting spears rising up like blades of grass. “I don’t have that much paint,” he whispers.
“I could knock them over with Kusunagi,” says Valli.
“Still too many,” hisses Nari. “And they’d just hop up.”
Gabbar steps forward and bows. “Dr. Lewis, if you and your little dog come with me, I will let your friends live.”
“Don’t do it,” Bohdi and Beatrice say in unison.
Fenrir growls up a storm.
Gabbar straightens. “Mr. Patel …” He takes a step closer. His jaw tightens. “It is against my orders … but you may accompany Ms. Lewis back to Asgard if you so wish.”
Bohdi’s gut twists. Raising his paint gun as menacingly as a paint gun can be raised, he says, “We aren’t going anywhere.”
On the periphery of his vision, he sees Amy nod. From her shoulder comes a cheep, as Mr. Squeakers makes an appearance. Gabbar’s eyes fall on the spidermouse, and his face goes a shade paler.
“You have a spidermouse?” says Nari, and Bohdi blinks but does not turn. Nari doesn’t seem the least bit afraid of the creature.
Behind Amy and Bohdi, Sigyn whispers so quietly she’s just barely audible. “The gate we’re standing in. I can take us through. But I need some time.”
Amy nods, eyes on Gabbar.
“Nari, Valli, I need your shards!” Sigyn whispers.
Bohdi’s vaguely aware of Nari and Valli passing something to their mother.
Gabbar doesn’t move, but beside the Einherjar the scene swirls, and four spears rise. Bohdi swallows.
“Dr. Lewis, Mr. Patel, don’t make this difficult,” Gabbar says.
Bohdi clears his throat, trying to think of something to say—and draws a blank.
But Nari steps forward. Raising his arms, Nari says, “On what charges is Dr. Lewis being called to Asgard?”
Bohdi glances backwards. Sigyn has some sticks in her hands. Eyes shut, she’s holding them against her chest, chanting something quietly. Despite the cold, she has a sheen of sweat on her brow.
He looks back to Nari. With his arms outstretched, he’s almost entirely blocking Gabbar’s view. Bohdi slides in front of Sigyn and tries to give her a little more cover. He coughs lightly. Beatrice and Amy meet his gaze. Eyes going wide, they step in front of Sigyn too, Beatrice keeping her flamethrower leveled in Gabbar’s direction. Valli just paces on the other side of his mother, sword drawn.
“She is charged with setting magic loose on Midgard,” says Gabbar.
Nari says, “Let me explain that to Dr. Lewis and her companions.” He turns around and says loudly, “Midgard means Earth.”
“Oh,” says Amy, equally loudly. “I had no idea. Did you know that, Grandma?”
Keeping the flamethrower aimed at Gabbar, Beatrice says, “You know this Norse stuff is all Greek to me, dear.”
“You only make this worse for yourselves,” Gabbar says. His eyes fall on the flamethrower. “Old woman, you can kill me, but not an army. Save your granddaughter’s life and your own.”
“Fall back now!” Sigyn cries.
Bohdi turns to see Sigyn disappear into thin air. Nari lunges after her. Valli whips his sword in a wide arc at the warriors behind them. Bohdi hears a rush of wind, and horses screaming.
“Covering you!” shouts Beatrice. “Take Amy.”
“Go!” screams Valli.
Bohdi grabs Amy by the arm, drags her through the World Gate behind Nari …and finds himself running in complete darkness. The air is warmer, but he promptly hits something cold, hard and wet.
He’s shoved from behind and hears Beatrice mutter. “Oomf!”
Somewhere Nari says, “This is not good.”
Fenrir whimpers.
“Get your elbow out of my stomach!” says Valli.
Beside Bohdi comes a light. He turns to find Amy holding up her phone, awkwardly clutching Fenrir with one arm. Bohdi lifts his head and turns. On three sides they are surrounded by dark rock walls shiny with moisture. The floor is rough and bumpy, the ceiling isn’t much higher than their heads, but the space is wide—nearly as wide as a two lane road.
“A cave!” he says. It smells damp, and also, vaguely like animal. Maybe that means they’re near the surface?
Sitting on a rock, Valli now beside her, Sigyn winces and nods.
“Probably too low for the horses,” says Beatrice, eyes on the ceiling.
“They must have brought a mage,” Amy says, “someone who can world walk. They’ll follow us.”
Sigyn nods.
“We should maybe run?” says Bohdi.
“We might get lost,” says Amy. “Too bad we don’t have any bread crumbs.”
“I know that myth!” Valli shouts, nearly deafening Bohdi with his enthusiasm.
“This is no time for joking,” snaps Nari. Bohdi disagrees, but he’s too busy shaking the ringing out of his ears to argue.
“Maybe we can find some loose stones to mark the trail?” says Amy, eying the floor. Beatrice and Bohdi begin searching too, as Valli helps Sigyn to her feet.
“I’ve got some pebbles!” Beatrice says triumphantly, holding out her hand.
Leaning against her son, Sigyn says breathlessly, “That will have to do. We had better go.”
Nari’s eyes shift uneasily. “I think we may be in Svartheimer.”
“We have to get away from the Gate,” Amy says.
Fingers to her temple, Sigyn nods. Since the spot is a dead end, there’s only one way to go. Valli and Nari help their mother up, and lead her down the tunnel. Looking over his shoulder, Nari says, “We have allies among the dwarves. If this cave leads to their caverns, they’ll help us.”
Bohdi falls into step behind them. Amy moves to his side, somehow managing to slip Fenrir into her carrier one-handed. Beatrice takes up the rear, flamethrower at the ready.
“And if it doesn’t lead to their caverns?” Beatrice says.
Bohdi swears he hears Nari gulp.
Ahead, Sigyn pants. “The World Gate is opening, quickly!”
They run, stumbling over the slick floor in the dim light of Amy’s phone. Bohdi’s not sure, but he thinks they may be heading downward. It’s hard to tell … his body feels weirdly heavy.
They round a bend. Bohdi’s not winded, but Sigyn says, “Stop!” Turning to Amy, she says, “Turn off your phone.”
The party draws to a halt, and Amy puts her phone away. Beatrice crouches, peering around the bend, flamethrower upraised. From where they just came comes a faint light, and then voices speaking in Asgardian.
Bohdi takes a deep breath and his nose wrinkles up with disgust. “What’s that smell?” It’s vaguely familiar, and disgusting—like rotten meat and body odor.
From the direction they’d been heading comes a sound like the cross between a trumpet and a snort.
“Oh, no,” says Amy.
“This is bad,” says Nari.
Around the bend, the Asgardian-speak stops abruptly. And then, Gabbar’s voice echoes through the cave. “You cannot escape this way. But we’re prepared to save you when you decide to be sensible.”
“Do I want to know what he meant by ‘save us’?” asks Beatrice.
Gabbar says some words in Asgardian, and Bohdi hears the sound of armor on stone. Peeking around Beatrice, he counts at least eight Einherjar standing guard in the tunnel, the torchlight flickering off their armor making them slightly more visible than they had been in the open. One of the warriors appears to be holding a staff instead of a spear. The mage?
“Maybe we should go back to Midgard?” say Nari.
“We should go back to Midgard!” Valli hisses in the darkness. “We should kill as many of Odin’s men as we can!”
“We can’t win against an army without an army of our own!” says Sigyn.
“Would someone tell me what’s going on!” snaps Beatrice.
“Yeah,” says Bohdi, “Me, too.”
The others are quiet. From somewhere down the tunnel comes the sound of water dripping on stones, and then in the distance an odd sort of chorus of snuffling snorts.
“What was that?” says Bohdi.
He hears Amy take a deep breath. “That …was the sound of trolls.”
Chapter Eight
Bohdi blinks. “A troll … no problemo … Beatrice can take it out with her flamethrower. We can rush to the surface and—”
“Grandma! That’s a flamethrower?” Amy exclaims.
“The better to protect you with, my dear,” says Beatrice.
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