A Sinister Game (29 page)

“Who are you?” Victoria asked, wary and a
dmittedly a
little afraid. What if this was
actually
Black? What if it was him in some impossible, unrecognizable form? Would he do this just to confuse her?

But there was no cold her
e. No feeling of power radiated from
the stranger. There was only the small
wrinkled
woman and this old, echo of a place.

The woman stopped in her approach and blinked, her line
d brow furrowed in confusion. No – in
disbelief
.

“Meeda?” The woman asked
. Her voice was the sound the leaves made in the
fall
when they
scraped
across the
outer yards at the TGB. “Is that you?” s
he
asked. She
took a tentative, small step forward and gave a tiny shake of her bowed head. Gray hair wisped a
round
her face. “Can
…
it really be?”
s
he whispered.

“I’m sorry,
” Victoria muttered
, clueless as to what to say or do
.

As if sensing her unease, Brom took a
wary step
back.

But something tickled at Victoria’s mind. The woman watched her from below, a pained expression on he
r furrowed face.

S
omething was yawning awake inside of Victoria. It stirred, uncomfortable and di
sconcerting. She felt misplaced,
disoriented. “I think you have the wrong…” Her voice trailed off.
The wrong what?

The strange woman stopped. Her bloodshot eyes widened. She
straightened. Her expression went from disbelieving
to positively amazed. H
er pale, prosaic eyes were shiny with
hastily built
, unshed tears.

She inhaled sharply, her withered hand coverin
g her mouth in wonder. “Oh gods
,
” her voice scratched. “Rose!” It cracked
and came out as a sob
. “Oh
my dear Thor, you’ve come home, Rose! M
y sweet Rose!”

And all at once, Victoria
remembered
.

The world tumbled toward her as quickly as her memories did. She was unconscious when she hit the ground.

* * * *

“You were right,
”
said Baldur.

“Of course I was,” said Odin.
“
You think I threw my eye into that blasted well for nothing?”

Loki glanced over at Baldur, who always caught the sharp edge of his father’s temper since Thor had been away. The blonde-haired
Baldur took it with easy grace however, allowing
the All Father’s harsh tone
to
slide right over him as if his skin were
composed of
armor. Which wasn’t far off.

Odin
, impossibly tall and equally broad,
stood from his t
hrone and began pacing. Outside
in the human world, storms were building in response.

A
s he paced, a
young goddess with golden hair stepped forward from the shadows along one wall of the great hall. “All Father, may I see my sister?”

Odin stopped and turned to face her. His
harsh
expression softened a little, but he shook his head. “No, Andromeda. I knew you would ask, child. But it isn’t possible.”

“Why not?” t
he woman asked.

Odin considered her.
Sh
e had been very young when she’d died. She’d been but a child when she had drawn her last breath – and
Ullr had brought her here to mature into the goddess she was born to be.

She looked away from him, meeting Loki’s gaze instead. He held it fast, trying to comfort her with its reassurance.

They had been lovers ever since her arrival,
she and Loki. It was a match that made little logical sense, yet was instantaneous and strong as steel d
espite the fa
ct that Loki was the god of fire and Andromeda
was the
young
champion of Ullr,
who
was
the god of ice.

Odin
sighed heavily.
Loki and Andromeda turned to regard him once more.

The All Father moved forward
and gently grasped the
Andromeda by her upper arms. “You can not see your sister b
ecause it would only frighten and distract her. War is brewing, Andromeda. This has been a long time coming;
nothing
must interfere now that the tide is at last turning.”

He let go of her and turned to face Loki. The kindness in his face dropped and his
mood
was back. Just like
that. “I don’t need to ask you
since I already know
everything, but I’ll ask anyway because it frankly
amuses me. How
is
your young champion holding up now that she’s remembering where she came from?”

Loki managed not to smile.
It would have been blatantly rude to appear as if he were enjoying himself when the All Father so obviously was not. However, Loki
actually
liked
Odin when he was
pissy
like this. It was the
fire
in him, he guessed.
Loki liked fire.
“She fainted dead away and is still sleeping
,” Loki told him
.
“
I’m keeping her under until I can get back down there to explain things to her.”

“Yes, she trusts you.” Odin paused. “Or
she trusts
Anders
, anyway. Good.” Odin nodded
and strode back
to
his throne. “Wise decision, Loki.
If only Thor would deign to make choices half as wise
.”

To that, Loki said nothing. Though he couldn’t have agreed more.

“Speaking of Thor, where is he right now?” Odin asked as he reclaimed his throne
and sat back with a sigh
.

“He’s waiting for Victor Black to ‘recruit’ him against Maxwell Blood and Game Control
,
” Loki said.

Thousands of years ago, the human world below had been much different than it was now. In the beginning, the old gods chose champions from among the humans and imbued those special few with god-like powers. The humans were to use these abilities to do good in the world.

It was Baldur’s idea, of course. Everything nice and fluffy
and sparkly
always
was
Baldur’s idea.

Regardless, the idea more or less worked out
. Under the protection, guidance, and help of their champions, h
umans became more intelligent, lived longer, were
kinder toward one another. Hence, s
ociety advanced at a rapid pace.

Unfortunately,
it was not to last.

One day Odin foretold that a man would be born to the world who would change the fate of the gods and their people for ages to come.

Not long after, t
hat man
was
born. He was a highly intelligent and charismatic man filled with the fear of death and an envy of the gods. It proved to be a truly dangerous combination, for the man managed to gather about him some of the most brilliant minds of his highly developed world – and they created the wall.

The technology was both simple and co
mplex. The wall was a magnet of sorts,
a homing beacon for power. It
pulled in the very power of the gods and turned it around to use it against them.

Once a
god’s
champion was trapped inside
the wall, in what they called the Field
, the wall fed off of his or her magic and amplified the vitality of everything within its circumference while sapping the same from everything without. Humans inside of the wall could
literally
live forever. Those outside lived half as long as they once did. As a result, their society faltered. Technology fell by the wayside in exchange for time spent on family, on reflection, and on making the most of what few years they did have.

Once the Game Lord had the wall built to his specifications and satisfaction, he killed the men who built it to keep its secret safe.

Then, little by little, he either lured or abducted
one champion after another and forced them to play
his “Game.”

The Game was
created as a guise, a
make-believe
reason for the wall to remain standing and for Game Control to take what it wanted from the outside sectors.

Over time, the powerful genes the gods had embedded in their chosen humans died ou
t. Only a few were born any longer
, and they were shadows of the champions
who had been born
before them. As a result, the wall grew weak and those inside of it very slowly aged.

Though he was still strong, the Game Lord
was no longer a young man
. The wall needed
both “l
ight
”
and
“d
ark
” leaders to work; it needed champions of both Loki and Ullr – fire and ice. For the most part, those l
eaders no longer seemed to exist.

An
obvious and incredible exception was Victor Black, the strongest
champion of Ullr
to ever have been born
.
Another
exception
,
born a miraculous
four hundred years later, was Rose Tyrnan, Loki’s champion.

Odin
foretold both of their births,
and
he foretold
of their eventual joining. It was to be the gods’ salvation.

Humans
s
aving gods,
Loki thought.
The irony of it brought the smile back to his face.

When Victor Black
was born, Odin took action
to make certain that what he’d foreseen would come to pass
. He sent Thor into the Field in the guise of a Gamer. Thor begrudgingly agreed.
He chose a disguise that suited him well and played his part, fooling Game Control into accepting him onto the same team as Victor Black.

Once he was on the Playing Field, Thor became even weaker than he had been in Valhalla and far less powerful than the gods that waited for him there. But he was strong enough.

For hundreds of years, he maintained his position, even coming to befriend Black as they played out their farce of a wretched
Game
and Thor awaited the female half of the prophecy that Odin had foretold.

Twenty-five years ago, she at last came
.

Rose had been born the twin sister to another champion of Ullr, one that Game Control would have labeled a dark leader had she survived and been put to work on the Field. But Andromeda Tyrnan did not survive Game Control’s “collection process.” Only Rose did.

As unfortunate as Andromeda’s loss had been, Rose’s power was a literal “godsend,” and it greatly strengthened the wall, once more insuring it would continue to work for centuries to come.

Loki wasn’t always overly fond
of his brute of a stepbrother Thor,
but he had to admit that
when the time came for action, Thor delivered. The god had done a
fantastic
job
planting the idea of rebellion into Victor Black’s head.

And
he’d done an equally good job of planting
the idea to
accept
Black’s challenge into
the head of
Victoria Red.

Of course
,
the only suggestion Thor had made to Victor’s unconscious mind concerned overthrowing Game Control. The bit about Red having to spend a night in Black’s bed was completely Victor’s doing. Not that Loki could blame the man. After all,
she was gorgeous
;
the fire
god himself
was in love her
twin
sister.

“You’d better get back to it, Loki. Make sure
that once they’ve regained their memories,
those two get together without killing one
another
.” Odin sat back in his throne, closed his one good eye, and sighed heavily. He looked tired, but it was deceptive. He was a fussy, c
ranky curmudge
on of a god. But he was the All Father all the same.