Thor

  Loki had scrounged up a computer somewhere, and now, to my astonishment, Bragi, our god of poetry, was typing away at it as if he’d been using one of those human contraptions his entire expansive life.

  “You have to understand the internet as a writer in this realm these days,” he said when he noticed the many stares he was getting. “I may appreciate classic styling, but I keep up with the times as well.”

  “We’re not composing verses right now,” Vidar said tersely, peering down at the large world map we’d spread on the hard packed dirt of the yard. It was easier to see out here in the sunlight compared to the shadowy halls inside the old building, where the electricity appeared to have been off for quite some time. “Tell us where the other nuclear power plants are.”

  “Well, it appears there are rather a lot of them…” Bragi frowned with a purse of his lips. “Let’s start with the largest ones, shall we? There’s a sensibility to that.”

  Heimdall, who was standing just behind me, muttered something under his breath that Loki probably would have been able to hear. I could at least make out that it didn’t sound complimentary of Bragi’s sensibilities. I supposed it would be easier to appreciate the poet after the catastrophe was over when we could bask in his finely worded accounts of our glorious victories.

  The trouble was we had to accomplish that victory first.

  “All right,” Bragi went on. “Simply going by plants still operational… There’s one in Canada, near a town called Kincardine, in Bruce County, Ontario. Is that on the map?”

  “Canada, Ontario…” Vidar bent down, and everyone else gathered around as he cast about with his hand holding a red pen.

  I raised my head at the rumble of an engine. It shouldn’t matter if any humans drove past this abandoned place, since they wouldn’t see us unless we let them anyway, but I’d only heard a couple of vehicles pass by on that little highway since we’d gotten here. The place Skadi had found was certainly out of the way, even if I couldn’t say a whole lot else in its favor.

  The SUV that was driving toward us didn’t simply cruise by like the other two vehicles had, though. It slowed—and then it pulled into the lane to the building’s parking lot. Everyone else’s heads jerked up then too.

  “What in Hel’s name do these people think they’re—” Freyr started.

  Before he could finish his sentence, the SUV jerked to a halt and the passenger door popped open. A familiar slight figure with a head of mussed blond waves jumped out.

  For a second, I could only stare dumbly at Ari. I’d assumed she was still sleeping off the strain of the previous day in the room we’d found her for some privacy. Apparently she’d been up before any of us. Up and off on some quest I couldn’t quite comprehend.

  Three more people got out of the SUV: two men, one middle-aged with a bushy moustache and the other younger with a crewcut, and a well-muscled woman who looked a little older than Ari. All of them were regular humans. They aimed blank looks across the yard before giving Ari a puzzled glance. She was allowing the mortals to see her, but they couldn’t see us any more than the previous passersby had.

  “What in the nine realms is going on?” Heimdall demanded, pitching his voice to carry across the yard. He wasn’t the tallest of the gods or the broadest—both of those honors belonged to me—but he could have a very imposing presence when he chose to. It was a gatekeeper thing, presumably.

  “Wait here for a minute,” Ari said to her companions. She jogged over to meet us and stopped at the edge of the yard, setting her hands on her hips.

  “I brought help,” she said simply, her defiant gaze daring us to complain.

  “Those humans are your ‘help’?” Skadi said before our valkyrie could go on. “What have you told them? What were you thinking?” She turned toward the rest of us. “I knew we shouldn’t have kept her along.”

  Ari’s eyes flashed at that aside, and suddenly I understood why she’d struck out on her own. She’d gone to her former people like I’d gone to the giants not long ago, determined to use the advantages I had even if my comrades had been skeptical.

  We’d tried to defend our valkyrie’s worth to the gods who’d more recently joined us, but the valkyries in the past had never been more than servants to the gods and attendants to the risen warriors. This bunch hadn’t known Ari long enough to understand how much more than that she was. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard all their dismissive remarks.

  “I was thinking,” she said in a tart voice, “about how quickly Surt turned tail and ran when those human soldiers opened fire on him during his first attack on Midgard. I know these people. They can get us weapons as good as those. We can double or even triple our firepower just like that.”

  “You expect us to fight with guns?” Vidar said with a note of disgust, his hand coming to rest on the sword hanging from his belt.

  Ari looked as if she’d just barely restrained an eye roll. “No,” she said. “You’ve got your ways of fighting already. Why mess with that? They’ve got people who’ll fight alongside us, their way. An extra little army for us. If we pay them.”

  “Pay them?” Freyr sputtered. “A rabble of humans with—”

  “We have plenty of money,” Loki broke in before the other god could say anything more insulting. “That’s no issue. Why shouldn’t we make use of them if they’re willing? It is their realm they’d be fighting for.”

  “As far as the money goes, we’d be asking them to risk their lives going up against Surt,” Ari said. “We owe them something for that, considering it’s mainly your fault he’s here at all. Now can you make yourselves visible to them already? Without all the grumbling about humans? They’re going to decide I’m batshit insane and leave in another minute.”

  Most of the gods looked as though they were absolutely fine with that possibility.

  “We can’t show ourselves to humans without proper precautions,” Njord said. “These days, the way they think—”

  “It’s just not wise,” Heimdall filled in. “They’re too unpredictable.”

  “Oh, for Asgard’s sake,” Loki said, and stepped away from the group of us toward the figures waiting by the SUV. A brief flaring of light ran over his body.

  The humans’ jaws dropped as to their eyes he must have appeared as if out of nowhere. Grinning, he sauntered on over to them.

  Why had I been waiting around for permission? Ari wouldn’t have brought these people here if she hadn’t believed this was a good idea, and I trusted her judgment. I focused for a second on the texture of the air, the dusty scent of the yard, willing my body to be fully present in the realm. There. I wiped my hands together and gave our guests a grin of my own.

  They appeared to be having some trouble forming words. Baldur ambled over to join Loki with a faint smile, the sun shimmering off his skin. I skirted the cluster of gods around the map to stand beside the two of them. The humans glanced from one of us to the other.

  The older man, the one with the moustache, swiped a hand across his chin. “Well,” he said. “Look at that.”

  “I did mention my colleagues were gods, right?” Ari said, her tone amused now that her sanity was no longer in question. “There’s more of them here. They’re just being shy. Apparently you’re very scary.”

  Loki chuckled at that. The remark must have niggled at a few of my comrades’ pride, because a moment later Vidar, Skadi, and Freyr came up beside us.

  “We understand you can bring weapons, and you’re willing to fight on our behalf,” Vidar said, folding his arms over his chest. “What exactly can you provide?”

  “Hold on a second,” the older guy said. “I told Ari we’d come out here to talk. I’m not committing to anything until I’m clear about the whole situation. What we’re fighting. What you need from us. And what you’re providing to us in return.”

  “Payment will be no issue,” Loki said with a wave of his hand. “Weapons—covered. You want a hundred thousand a day to be on our retainer, each? We can do that. Is the money your only hesitation?”

  “There is the whole thing about fighting some kind of war with gods,” the woman piped up. Her stance was still rigid.

  “You wouldn’t be fighting gods,” Baldur said in his mild voice. “We’re all on the same side.” Loki seemed to cover a snort at that remark, but he let it stand. My brother went on. “It’s a giant we need to stop—a giant and the army he’s raised of the undead.”

  “Zombies,” the younger guy said. “Holy hell. They weren’t just making that shit up.”

  “Yeah,” the older guy said. “That’s the stuff I’m talking about. I’m going to need to hear some more about how we go about fighting these… giants and undead and so on before I’m on board with bringing any of my people into this conflict.”

  Skadi grimaced. “Or you could just—”

  “Come with me,” I said quickly, before she could suggest they take off. I hadn’t been planning on making the offer, but as soon as the words came out of my mouth, they felt right.

  I was the champion of this realm, the protector of humankind. When was the last time I’d really talked to a human—someone fully human, not our summoned valkyries?

  In the olden days, when I’d often adventured across this realm, sometimes with Loki at my side, I’d taken a human assistant more than once. There’d been something satisfying about watching them rise to the occasion. Humans had so much resilience in their short mortal lives.

  I’d been a decent judge of human character back then. These three wanted to evaluate us, and I could evaluate them in turn. And if it looked like an alliance would work in both our favor, then who better to add to our forces?

  The humans balked at my beckoning gesture, but after a moment’s hesitation, the older guy, who seemed to be the leader of the three, headed toward me. The others fell into step behind him.

  “Thor,” Vidar said like a warning.

  I shot him a look. “I can handle this. Midgard is my domain.”

  They couldn’t argue with that fact. Ari hung back as I led the humans around to the field behind the building, probably figuring she needed to do a little more smoothing over and explaining before she had everyone’s agreement. I suspected those instincts were right. At least I could take these three through the paces without constant skeptical commentary.

  I stopped amid the overgrown grass where we couldn’t see or hear the other gods anymore. The younger man and woman looked around, the guy toeing the rusted post that had fallen over. The older guy fixed his gaze on my face.

  “Thor?” he said, half disbelieving, half… hopeful?

  “That’s me,” I said with a smile, and offered him my hand, which dwarfed his lean one. He managed a firm enough shake all the same. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Harrison,” he said in return.

  “You’re the Thor?” the younger guy said, outright gawking now. “Like…”

  “Thunder god, very strong, fond of bashing giants’ skulls,” I supplied. “Sorry you haven’t seen much of me in a while. I’ve been distracted with other concerns—and, well, you’ve all seemed pretty caught up in your new modern world.”

  Harrison let out a sputter of a laugh. “I can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head. “First Ari’s got wings, and now I’m talking to a fucking Norse god.”

  “You are,” I said. “And I’ve got my hammer and only a certain amount of patience.” I lifted Mjolnir from its spot at my side, flipped it in my hand, and tossed it without even that much vigor toward the goal post still standing at the opposite end of the field.

  The hammer gleamed through the air and smacked into the post with a metallic thunk that buckled the steel. The structure toppled over as my weapon flew back into my hand. I brushed its end against my pant leg and hung it back on my belt. “So let’s be straight-forward with each other, all right?”

  The younger guy’s eyes had lit up. “I want to see what else you can do with that thing.”

  Harrison waved him quiet. There was something new in his expression now, guarded but peeking through his internal defenses. I thought it was respect.

  This might be one of the criminals from Ari’s past, but I could see why she’d picked him to go to. I could already tell he wasn’t a man who’d give his word lightly. If he signed on to our war, he’d see his end of the deal through all the way to the end.

  “Tell me more about this giant and these zombies,” he said.

  I tipped my head. “The giant is the main problem—Surt. He uses fire magic, and he’s strong. He’s equipped his undead army with enhanced weapons and shields too. So, basically, a lot of trouble. But if we take him down, his army will fall apart.” Possibly in a literal bodily way.

  “And he’s trying to destroy the whole world.”

  “He wants to claim Midgard—your realm here—for himself and anyone he likes,” I said. “And he doesn’t like humans particularly. After that first skirmish with some of your soldiers, he decided he’d rather annihilate the entire species than try to push you under his thumb. He’d have made quite a start of that effort if we hadn’t caught him in time last night.”

  Harrison’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look surprised. No matter how Ari had pitched his involvement to the other gods, he wasn’t here just for the money. She must have made it clear to him it was about his very survival and that of the rest of the human race as well.

  “Well, thank you for that save,” he said. “Now, what exactly kind of weaponry would you be needing us to bring to the mix?”

  I rubbed my hands together. Now we were talking.

  “I’m not sure your average gun would do us a lot of good, but Surt really didn’t like those—what are they called?—missiles that got launched at him…”

  16

  Aria

  “This should get you off to a good start,” Loki said, handing the wad of cash he’d retrieved to Harrison.

  The gang commander made a show of rifling through the bills to confirm the amount, but his expression told me he was already sold. Whatever Thor had said to him and his lackeys, it had gotten through.

  “I’ll report back within twenty-four hours,” he said, with a nod to me. I’d picked up a prepaid cell phone while I was in the city, since my old one had gone kaput with the rest of my former body. It felt weird carrying it on me now, but I needed some way to communicate with my former associates.

  “I’ll be waiting,” I said.

  The three of them got into their car and drove off. The second the SUV disappeared from view amid the trees down the road, Vidar swung his brawny body toward me. “Just to be clear, I still say you shouldn’t have gone running off—especially to humans—without putting the plan to us first. Exposing ourselves to mortals is a serious matter.”

  “Oh, please,” I said. I’d already heard enough criticism in the last hour to last me a few centuries. “Without them, we all might be nothing more than nuclear waste in another day or two. What will it matter what they know then?”

  “I’m not convinced a bunch of humans is going to make that much difference.”

  “It’s not the humans so much as what they’ll be carrying. You weren’t there in Moscow.” I motioned to the gods who had been there for that first battle in Midgard. “The missile really hurt Surt, didn’t it? That’s what sent him running.”

  “It’s true,” Thor said.

  Even Skadi was nodding for once. “These advanced human weapons can have some impact. On the level of some elf-made contraptions.” She cut her gaze toward me, just in case I’d thought she was letting me off easy. “But I agree with Vidar that you had no business arranging this without our input.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I had an idea. You were all sleeping. I went and got it done. We don’t know how much time we have before Surt makes his next attempt.”

  “You can’t make decisions for all of us as if you’re in charge,” Freyr said haughtily.

  “Who is in charge?” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “Odin’s been gone for days now. He didn’t appoint anyone in his place, as far as I can tell. So we’re muddling along together. I didn’t make any decisions for you. I barely told them anything—nothing more than I had to for them to listen to me. You all had a chance to talk with them and discuss the idea. Can we move on?”

  Freyr looked as if he were going to snap something back at me, but Freya caught her brother’s arm. “Is this arguing really necessary?” she said, her voice sweet but firm. “Don’t we have enough enemies right now without turning each other into them too?”

  Freyr’s gaze flicked briefly toward Loki. Baldur cleared his throat. He’d stood up with the others to greet Harrison and his people, but something in his face made my stomach knot. He looked as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep or as if something unpleasant were lingering in the back of his mind—a hint of shadow dimming his usual light.

  He’d probably just worn himself out supporting Hod. His voice sounded clear and steady enough.

  “Isn’t the most important thing determining what Surt’s next target might be?” he said. “We’d gotten started on that question when our visitors arrived.”

  Vidar grimaced, but he turned back to the map. “Bragi, you were going over that list you found on the… computer contraption. The largest power stations?”

  As the other god mentioned the location of a nuclear plant, I stepped closer to Baldur. “How are you doing after last night?” I asked quietly.

  He rested his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m fine now that I’ve rested. Hod is still recovering. We set him up in one of the rooms inside where he wouldn’t be disturbed. Containing and cooling that blast took a lot out of him.”

  “I could see that.” I hoped the dark god hadn’t strained himself too much. The thought of Hod in pain made my stomach clench even tighter. None of the other gods seemed all that concerned about him even though he’d just saved all our hides.

  A black shape wheeled against the sky over our heads. I peered up at it. “It looks like the raven managed to find us again. I wonder what she’s been up to.” I hadn’t seen Muninn since our mad dash from the park in Beijing to the nuclear plant.

 

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