Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds) (27 page)

“I think you were right, Gwynn. She was helping us.”

The hall filled with Suture members.

“What happened?” The most common question.

“Fuyuko?” One of them said.

“Jason.” Fuyuko threw her arms around him. The boy seemed embarrassed, but he did nothing to break her embrace. “Do you remember what happened?” She asked him.

Jason’s eyes said he did.

“We were betrayed. Hodur. He…killed Paltar.”

Fuyuko’s eyes went wide. Pridament shook.

“The stairwell.” Gwynn said.

“Considering what Sophia told you, we can guess how they summoned the Gorgon.”

“Gorgon?” Jason asked. “Is that what it was? I was near the front, just behind Brandt and Caelum. I heard a scream. When we came around the corner, there was something there. That’s all I remember.”

A ‘ding’ sound filled the hall.

“Was that the elevator?”

The doors on each elevator opened and the hall flooded with Curses.

The
air crackled with the summoning of weapons from the Veil.

Despite their incapacitation minutes before, the Suture teams surged forth against the Curses. Gwynn sensed no fear, hesitation or questioning. This was their job and purpose. To suggest they shouldn’t fight was like saying they should give up breathing.

A firm grip on his shoulder dragged him around the corner away from the fray.

“We need to keep going.” Pridament said.

“Shouldn’t we help? Won’t we need
their
help?”

“No time. We move. They’ll catch up.”

They headed for the stairwell. Fuyuko blocked the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Up.” Pridament said. “We can’t waste any more time. That tear has to be closed. Go help your friends, then join up with us.”

Fuyuko shook her head. “No. I threw my lot in with you when I broke you out. I’m seeing this through with the two of you. They can take care of themselves from here.”

“Fine.” A noticeable air of relief in Pridament’s voice. “Let’s get going.”

They burst into the stairwell and ascended to the sixth floor two steps at a time.

“Where are we going?” Gwynn asked.

Pridament stopped mid–stride. “Probably the top floor. Now that the Gorgon’s gone, I hoped you’d get a better fix and we could skip searching every floor.”

“Maybe. Give me a minute.”

Gwynn closed his eyes. Sounds of battle raged a floor away. He concentrated on his abdomen. Five, ten heartbeats passed. There, the familiar tugging sensation. Pridament was right; it was like a thread attached to his midsection pulling upward.

“Okay.” Gwynn said. “We go up. Slower though. I might miss the change if we go too fast.”

Pridament and Fuyuko nodded.

At the ninth floor, Pridament held up his hand, halting their progress.

“You two keep going. There’s something I need to do here.”

“What?” Gwynn’s insides trembled. “We need you.”

Pridament turned to face Gwynn, his expression pained. “Gwynn, I want to stay with you, to see this through and keep you safe. But if I don’t do this, there’s a good chance none of us are going to survive. Trust me. Trust Fuyuko. Just remember what you’ve accomplished. No matter what comes, you’ll be fine. I believe in you.”

Pridament said nothing else. He spun and went through the door.

Gwynn was one step from following him when Fuyuko grasped his shoulder.

“Don’t. He said it was something he had to do.”

“I… I don’t think I can do it without him. The one time he left me alone, Elaios almost killed me.”

Fuyuko’s face crumpled into a mask of disdain. “Really? I seem to remember another time you were without him that you saved my life.”

“Luck. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Then that’s your answer. Don’t think so much about it. Just act. Your connection is to something old and strong. Trust your true self to see you through.”

“Maybe.”

She punched him hard in the shoulder.

“Keep talking like that and Fallen will be the least of your problems. Now call that crazy sword of yours.”

Gwynn looked at his empty hand. He’d almost forgotten letting Xanthe return to the Veil. He called and Xanthe returned. In his mind’s eye, he had a brief notion that the sword always rested in his hand, whether visible or not—the weight and balance felt too natural to be coincidence. What else might surround him that the Veil kept shielded from his vision? Would it be there for him when he needed it?

Fuyuko pushed past him and moved toward the tenth floor.

Gwynn skipped a couple steps to catch up. When they came to the door, the tugging at his core increased. Instead of tugging in an upward direction, it now urged him forward.

“It’s here.” He said.

Gwynn reached for the doorknob, but Fuyuko swatted his hand away.

“Do you think we should just charge in there?”

Gwynn shrugged.

Fuyuko flattened herself against the wall. “On three, pull it open, but stay behind the door. Clear?”

She counted, one, two, and three. Gwynn opened the door.

Nothing happened.

Fuyuko took a hesitant peek inside. With catlike grace, she slid through the door.

Gwynn rounded the door to follow, just to have an explosion of movement shove him back.

Fuyuko fell out the door, her spear a flurry of blocks and strikes. The Anunnaki she fended off carried curved blades in each hand.

She twisted and shoved the man away. “Gwynn, go.”

“But…”

The Anunnaki lunged at Gwynn, but Fuyuko turned him away with her spear. “Close the tear. Everything gets easier once that’s done. Go.”

Spurred by the ferocity in her last word, Gwynn flung himself past their sparring and through the door.

§

The ninth floor
hadn’t been finished; an open space with girders and wiring in the ceiling exposed. Just the outer walls and where the elevators pushed through had drywall.

“Hodur.” Pridament called. “I know you’re here. I think you and I have things to discuss.”

He waited. How long had he known Hodur? His whole life that he remembered. Such a long time. He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t his Hodur. This was a different world. Perhaps something had happened in the almost–ten years since their worlds divided that had turned Hodur away.

But ten years meant nothing in a god’s long lifetime. No, deceit of this magnitude would’ve taken decades, centuries perhaps, to germinate. The frightening reality was his world’s Hodur might’ve already made a similar move.

A figure stepped out from the cover of the elevators.

“I knew it would be you.” Hodur said. “Why don’t you take off the mask so I can face you for real?”

Pridament allowed his form to revert to its natural state.

Hodur gave a small chuckle. “I’ve seen you do that a thousand times. I never get used to it. Justinian stole that trick from you, did you know?”

“I found out recently. I thought he’d been forbidden to take the powers of Odin’s blood.”

“Ah, but you’re dead in this world, brother. Your body had barely graced the ground and he started using your little trick. I suppose he copied it years ago and was just waiting for his opportunity.”

Pridament spat. “Were you the one he was working for? Has this been your plan from the start?”

Hodur shook his head. “Sadly, I can’t take all the credit. Did I summon the Fallen here? Yes. Did I ensure Suture remained ignorant of the vortex until the last moment? Yes, I did that too. But you? Gwynn? No, I had nothing to do with that. Why would I? If anything, the two of you have been thorns in my side.”

“So what did they promise you?”

“Simple. A world where
I
would be the All–Father. And death to every world the progeny of Odin ever touched.”

Pridament’s heart ached. “Why? Have you always hated us so much? We used to play as boys. Paltar always believed in you.”

“Please. Paltar thought I was a simpleton. His ‘respect’ was nothing more than pity. I’m through being the shadow. It’s time for me to take my proper place upon a throne.”

“So what?” Pridament spat. “You killed Paltar and used his blood to summon the Gorgon?”

“Brilliant, don’t you think?” Hodur wore a hungry smile. “If the Greeks had been here, it wouldn’t have been so effective. But those trained by Asgard were little prepared for it. I admit I’m curious how you defeated it.”

“Turns out the blood of a god not only summons the monster, it can also banish it.”

Hodur regarded Pridament suspiciously. “How could you know? That’s magic older than Asgard.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m guessing the Fallen told you. Did they find out during their travels perhaps?”

Hodur shrugged. “Perhaps. Does it matter? The fact is the Gorgon saturated the vortex with energy. Nothing will stop it. All that remains is for me to end you and the boy. Once that’s done, I’ll leave for my new home and begin my reign.”

Pridament summoned his staff. He flipped it from hand to hand, making a show of his effortless control. “If I recall, you might have a hard time backing up those words.”

Hodur’s hand reached behind the elevator and came back with a spear. “Oh, I think this might even the odds a little.”

“Since when did you use a spear?”

A burning evil filled Hodur’s eyes. “Not just a spear, brother. This weapon is ages old, the slayer of gods. How do you think I managed to slay Paltar? No weapon of man or Veil has ever managed to scratch him. But this, yes, this will make all the difference.”

Hodur launched at Pridament, the sharpened blade of the spear glistening in its desire to mete out death.

Pridament sidestepped, bringing his staff upward to knock the spear’s razor tip aside. Preoccupied with the spear, he left his side open, where Hodur’s delivered a savage kick. Pridament stumbled. Hodur spun. Pridament threw his staff behind him just turning the spear away from his spine. It cut through the fabric of his coat. Pridament dropped his arm from the coat and tried to catch the spear in it.

Too slow.

Hodur pushed the spear upward, glancing it along Pridament’s cheek.

Pridament stumbled back, the left side of his face burning. Warm blood trickled down and followed the line of his chin. He threw the coat off.

“First blood.” Hodur said. “Times have changed, haven’t they brother?”

Pridament took four steps further back. He brushed against the Veil, drawing on its energies to heal his wound. His heart pounded against his throat when the blood still flowed.

“No sense seeking the Veil for help.” Hodur hissed. “I told you, this spear is a god slayer. No matter how much you draw from the Veil, no wound will heal faster than its time.”

Hodur took a large step forward and continued the spear around his body. Pridament held his staff to the side, blocking the spear. The strike landed so hard it reverberated through his arms into his chest. Blocking the spear did nothing to stop Hodur continuing forward, his fist smashing into Pridament’s cheek.

Pridament stumbled backward, striking the wall containing the elevators.

Hodur brought the spear down in a death arc toward Pridament’s head. Pridament brought his staff up, blocking the strike. Hodur leaned his weight behind the spear, forcing Pridament to his knees.

“So how close is your world to this one?” Hodur asked.

Pridament grit his teeth. “Best I figure, almost ten years.”

Pridament fell to the ground and rolled. The spear struck the ground sending a fountain of debris into the air.

Hodur’s heavy boot caught Pridament in the side, sending him sprawling across the floor.

“Ten years.” Hodur said. “About the time my brother in this world died. That would mean Gwynn was your son at one point, right.”

Pridament swung his staff at Hodur’s feet. The man took an easy, relaxed step over it. Another boot to the midsection.

Bits of drywall rained down on Pridament as he slammed into the far wall.

“That would also mean you ran away from Asgard. You should’ve seen father. I mean, I’ve seen him angry, but nothing like that.”

Pridament ducked, the spear striking the wall where his head had been.

“This is almost therapeutic.” Hodur exclaimed. “All the things I wanted to say, all the questions I’ve had. In this world, you died before I could ask. But now…” The spear glanced across Pridament’s shoulder. “…I can finally have some answers”

Pridament rolled away. He slammed his staff into the small of Hodur’s back sending his brother sprawling against the wall.

Pridament backed away, his shoulder on fire and numbness crept downward into his arm.

Hodur charged. Staff, spear, staff, spear, the constant dance of assault and parry.

White searing pain erupted from Pridament’s side, like shards of glass radiated from the impact and tore through his torso.

“You’ve been slumming on Midgard too long, brother.” Hodur’s breath was hot and foul. “It looks like this is over.”

Gwynn
followed the tugging at his core. The air of the tenth floor crackled and nipped at his flesh. Perhaps the windows were tinted, or the barrier blocked out the light, or Gwynn had lost sense of time, but the outside world appeared dark and evil.

“I knew you would come.” A woman’s voice said.

Gwynn faced toward the right of the building. Her stance was relaxed, catlike. Her silver hair in a ponytail and glowing with a preternatural light.

“Elaios.” Gwynn said.

She tut–tutted behind her teeth. “I suppose if I asked you to just let me put you down like a rabid dog, you would protest.”

Gwynn gripped Xanthe harder.

“Just a few days and you’re stronger already. Impressive. Most Anunnakis can’t draw anything from the Veil for years. Yet here you are, sword in hand, having vanquished a Gorgon.”

“Where’s the tear?” Gwynn did his best to keep his voice steady.

Elaios laughed—a high–pitched shriek. Underneath it ran a mocking tone that sent a pang of despair through Gwynn.

“You’re too late. It’s already closed.”

Gwynn ran to his left, the closest outside windows furthest from Elaios. Outside the vortex spun faster, darker, and hungrier. Her piercing laughter sent waves of heat and anger through him.