Son of Thunder (Heavenly War Series) (10 page)

The large chamber reverberated with the crash, as Jord burst through the doors and stormed into Valaskjálf, the hall of Odin. The doors were thrown open with such force they splintered. The gods in the great hall turned in amazement, that anyone would so enter this sacred place.

“Ragnarok is a lie!” Jord shouted, and pounded toward the throne of Odin. Meghan followed meekly behind. Val’s death had hit him hard, but something more had gotten Jord so worked up.

They’d flown directly to Asgaard from the Metrodome parking lot. Jord had been mostly quiet, contemplative, on the flight, but Meghan felt his rage growing.

“We’ve heard your arguments before, son of Thor,” one of the gods started to protest.

“I just killed Surtr!” Jord’s announcement made the whole room go silent for three heartbeats, then chaos erupted as every god in attendance started shouting to be heard over the others.

“Silence!” The voice of Odin boomed over the din. The King of the Norse Gods was standing now, hands outstretched, in front of his throne.

The room quieted once again.

“My grandson has made a claim of much importance. I will probe the fires of Muspellheim for the truth of it.”

Odin sat down on his throne, and his one eye glazed over.

“From his throne, Odin can see farther than even Heimdall.” The voice was hushed and issued close to her left ear. Meghan turned to see one of the gods move next to her. Tall and handsome, like all the gods, this one was slimmer than Jord and had dark red hair and blue eyes.

“Hello, Meghan.” He extended his hand. “I’m Freyr.”

Meghan remembered it was Freyr who gave her the coat.

“Thank you so much for this.” She fingered the coat collar. “It’s been very helpful.”

“If I played even a small part in the destruction of the Fire King, then the gift has repaid itself a thousand-fold.”

Odin rose from his throne and all eyes were drawn to the King of the Gods. “Surtr is no more. The prophecy of Ragnarok is proven false.”

The old god appeared shaken.

Meghan turned to Freyr. “I don’t understand. Surtr is dead. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“For me it is a very good thing.” Freyr’s eyes were bright. “I was destined to face the Fire King in the final battle, and the prophecy said nothing about who would win, so I am extremely happy with this result. For the gods as a whole, however, this comes as a double-edged sword.”

Freyr smiled and motioned Meghan toward the back of the room, where it would be much quieter. “For over two thousand years we have lived under the threat of Ragnarok. All of the major powers, on both sides, were named in the prophecy. Most of them were to meet their doom during this end time. So for the most part it was in everybody’s best interest to keep the status quo and stave off the end times as long as possible.”

“With the recent events, the release of Fenrir and the capture of Thor, it appears someone was trying to force the end times upon us. Who would want to, and why now, is beyond me.”

As Meghan contemplated what Freyr was saying, a thought came to her. “But, it doesn’t have to happen now. No one has to die.”

Freyr shook his head. “There will be war in the heavens, make no mistake about that. The tensions and hatred built up over the millennia would have forced the confrontation in time anyway. But now, with the restraints of Ragnarok lifted, it will come much swifter.”

Meghan watched Jord, now in what appeared to be a heated argument with a group of other gods. “Something has Jord all riled up.”

Freyr nodded, looking grim. “With Ragnarok hanging over our heads, the enemy knew they dared not put Thor to death. As word of the demise of the Fire King spreads, the enemy may realize there is no reason to keep Jord’s father alive. Jord’s actions have put Thor in great danger.”

Meghan hadn’t realized that. Jord had to be very worried about his father.

“You don’t seem as concerned as the rest.” Meghan was surprised to find herself so comfortable with Freyr.

Freyr raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I am very concerned. Thor is a powerful ally of Asgaard, and a good friend, but while they struggle with what to do in the face of a false prophecy, I’m more concerned with a different prophecy, the one that deals with you and Jord. What exactly did it say again?”

Meghan remembered the prophecy clearly, as if it had been locked in her mind. Meghan recited it by heart.

“The son of thunder and this daughter of Midgaard will venture in the lands of Svartalheim and Jotunheim, to the very bowels of Utgard keep. The power of the three artifacts will be reunited, and the old ways will pass. The secret past is the key to the future, but a life must be freely given, if the golden city is to be saved.”

Freyr furrowed his brow. “Yes, there’s much hidden in there, but you have been to Svartalheim already, and it seems plain you will go to Utgard Keep in Jotunheim.”

Jotunheim, the land of the giants—it sounded so ominous. A chill knotted Meghan’s stomach. “Do you think it could also be a false prophecy, like Ragnarok?”

Freyr shrugged. “Maybe, but I doubt that, so much of it has already happened. That is why I wanted to talk with you. Jotunheim is a dangerous place. It will be even more so when the frost giants discover Ragnarok is false. If your prophecy comes to pass, and I have no reason to believe it will not, then there are some things you need to know.”

The god seemed to be struggling with something internally. Finally he sighed and continued.

“You see, Ragnarok told of the last great battle, where evil was finally defeated. In the end, though many of the great powers perish on both sides, good prevails, and a time of peace comes to the heavens and Midgaard. With that prophecy now proven false, the powers of evil will think they can win.”

Meghan was beginning to see why the gods were so concerned. Before they had known, for the most part, who would win and who would lose. They believed, in the end, a better world would emerge. Now everything had changed, and nothing was certain. The foundations of their very existence had been rocked.

A voice carried above the din. “Freyr, we need your council here.” Meghan saw one of the gods motioning to Freyr.

Freyer’s intense gaze held her eyes. “We will speak again.” Then he was off.

Meghan scanned the chamber for Jord. He was in a different group from the one Freyr joined, and the argument seemed to be heated. It was certainly not the time to join him. She felt exhausted. Spying a bench off to the side of the room, she headed toward it and threw herself into it. Soft cushions welcomed her, and she put her head back, only semi-conscious of what was going on around her.

“There you are.” A voice came from her right and she opened her eyes. A god stared down at her, smiling. His face could only be described as beautiful, perfect. In a city where everyone was beautiful and perfect, this one stood out as even more so.

“You’re exhausted, but I am impressed. You’ve held up better than I would have expected in a mortal. My cousin, Jord, asked me to check on you. I’m Forseti.”

Meghan’s mind dug through the Norse mythology she’d read. The name seemed somewhat familiar to her. Something she’d read recently.

“You’re the son of one of the major gods, aren’t you?”

Sadness crossed Forseti’s face for only a moment then he smiled again. “Balder was my father. My mother was Nanna.”

Balder, the god killed by his blind brother, Hod, who was tricked by the evil god Loki into throwing a dart made of mistletoe at Balder. Meghan remembered reading the myth a few months ago in one of her mother’s old books. Balder’s wife Nanna died of a broken heart at her husband’s funeral. This poor god was orphaned at an early age and Meghan had just reminded him of the whole sad story. She felt like a fool.

“I’m so sorry . . .” The god shook his head.

“You’re confused, in a strange place, and exhausted.” He smiled kindly at her and handed her a steaming mug containing a warm, amber liquid. It smelled amazing.

“Here. Some mulled, honey mead will set you right.”

As she sipped on the warm beverage, Meghan felt new strength flow through her. Her energy started to return.

Forseti sat down next to her on the bench. “Drink it all. It will help renew your strength.”

Meghan downed the last of it. Energy coursed through her. She felt fantastic. “This is wonderful stuff.”

Forseti glanced back at the quarreling gods. “They’ll be at this for hours. Let’s get out of here. Jord said I should look after your needs and some fresh air will help finish clearing your head. You can ask me any questions you might have.”

Meghan couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Forseti took the cup from her hands and helped Meghan to her feet. “It is rare we have a mortal with us here in Asgaard. You have become quite the celebrity, you know. Once seen with you at my side, I will be the talk of the Golden City. I assure you . . . it is no bother.”

As they exited the hall Meghan took a deep breath. It was cool and crisp. It reminded her of autumn and was certainly nothing like the winter that was going on down below.

“Does it ever snow here?” Meghan was so happy to have someone to answer her questions about Asgaard.

Forseti nodded as he led her down the street. “At times, when it’s right to have snow. There is a certain order to the weather here, in contrast to the chaos below. Except, of course, when Thor gets angry.”

There was a tone of reverence when Forsetti mentioned Thor. “What’s Jord’s father like?”

“Ah, Thor—our greatest warrior, fearless and loyal. Everything you would expect from a legend. In fact, I believe the only thing my uncle, Thor, really fears is Aunt Sif.”

Meghan laughed and Forseti’s smile widened. As they walked, the god pointed out various landmarks of the golden city—tall structures that were the homes of various gods, beautiful parks and gardens, and gleaming statues and monuments. At one point they stopped in front of a grove of great trees.

Forsetti pointed to the grove “Of course you can’t go in there, being mortal, but that is Idun’s grove, where she grows the golden apples of immortality.”

After viewing the grove, from a safe distance, Forseti led her toward another of the city’s great buildings. This one had tall pillars on the entry that gleamed golden in the bright sunlight, and held up a shining silver roof.

“This is Glitnir, the hall of justice.” Forseti’s eyes gleaming. “Here I sit in judgment, hearing arguments and dispensing justice.”

Meghan was a bit embarrassed. She hadn’t asked Forseti anything about himself. “You’re a judge?”

Forseti nodded. “Yes. Even the gods have their disputes. Greed, theft, even murder are not unknown here.”

They entered a great hall, which was laid out much like a courtroom, with a Judge’s bench on a raised platform, a witness chair, even a jury box.

A shimmering on the far wall drew Meghan’s attention. It looked like a large, oval view screen. In it Meghan could see a man chained to a great rock. She froze at the sight of the huge snake coiled around the top of the rock, the snake’s open mouth just inches from the man’s head. The sight was gruesome and creepy.

A woman sat next to the man holding a large pan between the snake and the head of the man. The pan was filled with a green, sizzling liquid. Drop by drop more of the liquid dripped from the fangs of the snake into the pan. Meghan watched as the pan threatened to overflow. Then the woman pulled the pan away and emptied it out on the side of cavern where she sat. As she did, a drop of the snake’s venom dripped on the forehead of the chained man. The man cried out in agony, pulling at the chains that bound him. The woman replaced the pan as quickly as she could.

Forseti must have seen Meghan looking. “Behold our greatest criminal, Loki. Do not feel sorry for him. He has earned every second of his millennium of pain and suffering.”

Meghan shivered. “It’s terrible. Was he really that bad?”

Forsetti stepped up to the shimmering viewport. His face was a conflicting mess of emotion. “The list of his evil deeds—the pain, death, and destruction he caused—it is long indeed. He deserves death many times over.”

Meghan knew much of the evil deeds attributed to Loki. “Then why not just kill him?”

Forseti nodded, while pulling a curtain across, blocking the view of Loki’s punishment. “Many wanted death for Loki, myself included, but the prophecy of Ragnorok tied our hands. Loki and Heimdall were prophesied to fight and kill each other on that dark day at the end of days. Now that Ragnorok has been proven false, perhaps there will be a new sentence for the villain responsible for the deaths of my father and mother.”

Meghan shivered again and felt her strength start to drop. It was like coming down from a sugar high. She was suddenly exhausted.

Her head began to spin. “I should go find Jord.”

Forseti put a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. “You’re tired again, I can see it. Come, lay down and rest a bit here. Regain your strength then we will go rejoin Jord and the others.”

The god indicated a large padded couch against the wall. It looked comfortable, and Meghan doubted she’d be able to walk back to Odin’s hall in any case. This tiredness came on her so suddenly, she wondered if she was getting ill. Well, it had been a busy day.

Her feet felt heavy, and it was all she could do to drag herself across the room toward the couch. She sank into the soft cushions, and felt Forseti placing a blanket over her. Why was she so tired all of a sudden?

Forseti lightly patted her shoulder. “Sleep little mortal. Sleep.”

The room spun as Meghan descended into darkness.