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Authors: T.G. Ayer

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BOOK: Dead Silence
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"I know, and thank you, Brynhildr. I owe you a great deal."

I frowned. "How do you know who I am?" I let my head fall to the side and stared at her. She sat with her back against the far wall.

"The floorboards are thin," she said with a crooked smile as she pointed to the wooden ceiling.

I laughed softly, the sound coming out more of a snort than one of amusement. Then fatigue drew its numbing arms around me and led me into unconsciousness.

When I opened my eyes, my gut was screaming that I was in deep trouble. And suddenly I missed Joshua with an incredible intensity. All I wanted was to have his arms around me, making me feel safe. And then I blinked at the burn in my eyes, refusing to feel sorry for myself.

Blinking, I rubbed my eyes, scraping away the grogginess of sleep, while at the same time searching for Nita within the webbed shadows. With the encroaching shadows going from limp gray to opaque obsidian, I was sure late night had drawn over the cottage while I'd been out for the count.

I found the elf standing with her back to the far corner, her concentration focused on nowhere. She was eerily still, not even a hint of breathing in her unmoving chest. An invisible breeze tugged at the tendrils of pale hair that now fell along the sides of her face.

A sudden gust of the same breeze buffeted the elf, and I accepted that I was witness to something incredible. A summoning of power of some kind. Though curious, I held my tongue.

Then, I felt the fullness of my bladder with a sudden urgency. Damn, I should not have drank all that water. Even Valkyries have bodily functions that often showed themselves mainly in order to inconvenience said Valkyrie.

I sighed and tried to focus.

A chuckle rose from Nita's corner, followed closely by her voice. "I do apologize. Communing with all elements of nature often lends me the power to hear thoughts of those nearby."

My eyes widened. She'd heard my crude thoughts. Not good.

Then she laughed again. "They are a mere fact of nature, Brynhildr. You need not be embarrassed. Nature makes her call even on elves." She winked and pointed to the corner behind me, the one beneath the stairs, its shadows even darker than the rest of the room. "There is a pail and a toilet of sorts. I have tried to maintain it as clean and hygienic as possible."

I got to my feet and gave her a grateful nod. She seemed to have the strangest ability to make me feel calm and collected. And even when I felt the urgent pull of action, I also knew that patience often out-won a mad dash into the arms of danger.

I headed into the toilet under the stairs and saw that Nita must have communed with nature here too. A curtain of dried grass hung from the edge of the stairs, growing right out of the seemingly dead wood. The curtain afforded privacy and I wondered who'd kept Nita company that she'd felt the need to provide such privacy.

Inside, the packed dirt was gone, replaced by a narrow stretch of soft grass. On the end near the foot of the stairs, another long curtain hung from the stairs and when I pushed it aside I found it hid the toilet setup. Two fat boulders sat on the one end, topped with three wooden planks roped tightly together. A hole had been burned into the center of the board to fashion a makeshift toilet seat.

Ingenious.

Beneath the seat sat a squat bucket, the kind used in Asgard, made entirely of wood. I didn't need to guess what purpose it served.

I used the facilities then washed my hands using a bucket filled with water. Beside the bucket a small wooden bowl contained soap, a sponge and a washcloth. I soaped and washed my hands then wiped them on the seat of my pants as I returned to the elf.

She was now seated on her pallet, her legs crossed as if she was about to head into deep meditation. The folds of her long skirt fell in waves around her collecting in puddles on the blanket. A very peaceful prisoner.

"I am not a prisoner," she said with a stiff smile as she shifted in her seat, making space for me to land beside her. "I stay because I know my mother's safety is in jeopardy. The truth is I can leave at any moment, and the truth is I often do. I have the ability to gather the elements and create a shade. This image remains behind, giving the guards the impression that I am still here. Giving me the chance to find a way to free my mother."

Her words elated me. "That's awesome. Then you can get us out of here?"

She shook her head and my hopes crashed and burned. "I can't get you out of here. My power does not function like the Bifrost. It is more like a melding with the elements."

And I understood what she meant. Only she could travel out of the basement to freedom. I would have to fight my way out. "That's fine. Do you have an idea of how many guards are up there?"

"Three. One in the house, one for the Bifrost and one who covers for both of them."

I shook my head and laughed as it clicked. "He chose this place because of the location of the Bifrost landing."

Nita nodded. "I do believe so. He was quite eloquent of his ability to draw you to him. 'Like a magnet,' he said."

"He's lucky I came. I don't usually do the recons." I laughed again, this time totally without amusement.

As I got to my feet she asked. "Then why did you come?"

I shrugged. "Maybe I want Loki too badly."

Nita's eyes went wide. "You are in love-"

"No." I giggled at the thought. "I want him so I can kill him. Definitely not kiss him." My lips twisted at the thought. "There was a time I thought the trickster god was attractive, when a series of popular movies had portrayed him as a sexy, troubled brother and son, a time that lasted five minutes when I finally came face-to-face with the real deal. Sure, he'd been handsome. But when he turns into a salivating wolf, or a crazed falcon, he tends to lose his attraction very quickly."

Nita laughed softly, the sound tinkling in my ears and strangely enough, echoing inside my head. "That does sum him up quite nicely." The elf cleared her throat. "Brynhildr, I will stay with you. There is no need for you to fight them alone."

I faced the elf and studied her features. "Thank you, Nita. But you really don't need to. I am good with my sword."

Nita lifted her chin. "But I think two against three are better odds."

"Okay. Let's get up there. Before we leave I have to find my spear. I'm hoping Loki would have left it behind if the blood didn't help him use it."

She gave me a swift smile then moved to the stairs.

I touched her on her arms and said, "Bryn." When Nita faced me, a frown of confusion creasing her forehead, I said, "All my friends call me Bryn."

She flashed a smile, clasped my arm and gave it a squeeze. "Let's go get him."

I gave a nod and tiptoed up the stairs, watching the faint edge of light that seeped in under the door. At the top of the stairs, I paused, placing my ear to the door.

"The room is empty," said Nita. "The guard is outside. Perhaps relieving one of the other two. They take turns to watch, with one going for supplies and communicating with Loki."

I nodded. Then tried the handle of the door to the kitchen.

It refused to budge.

I sighed then slammed into it, shoulder first. But the door was made of sterner stuff, and I was still weakened from being drained of all my blood.

As I leaned against the wall, Nita stepped past me. "Here, let me try," she whispered as she bent an eye to the lock. Then she pressed her hands against the wood and closed her eyes. And the door began to darken, as if an invisible flame burned, turning the solid wood to charcoal.

Then she raised her fist and slammed it into the door, sending shattered pieces of coal flying into the kitchen, flooding the stairs with brightness. Nita glanced at me, a happy grin on her face.

I gave her a thumbs up then followed as she entered the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

The kitchen was small and simple, its most remarkable feature an old outer door, whose water-logged slats let in lines of light. The old over-sized fridge clunked loudly, and a set of cupboards on the far wall revealed their not so meager stores. From the packets of fried chips, and plastic-wrapped cream cakes it seemed frost giants liked their junk food.

Sunlight streamed into the kitchen from a large white-paned window, filling the room with rays that made sparkling fairies of dancing dust-motes.

We passed through the silent room and I followed Nita as she entered the passage leading to the other rooms within the house. Given her ability to sense people, she was in no immediate danger.

The passage was steeped in darkness, and disorienting as I moved from the light-filled kitchen to dense shadows. Nita paused to point at the door on our right which let through shards of brightness, the slivers stabbing their way through the gaps in the slats of the roughly hewn door.

I nodded and slipped out a short knife from the sheath in my boot, then nudged the door open with my knuckle, fingers tightly grasping its hilt, blade at the ready just in case. Nita had proclaimed the place empty but it never hurt to be too careful.

The door squealed, the high pitch scraping my eardrums, making me want to respond with an equally high-toned, frustrated groan. I glanced at Nita and she merely offered a regal nod. The door slowed and I pushed it further with my elbow until it stood wide open. The bare room glared back at me, its large windows bracketed by yellowed, tattered curtains that looked held together by wishes and angels.

The view outside into the yard was marred by smudges and stains, having not been cleaned in what looked like decades. The obscured windows served to give the room a dusty, closed in air.

Perfect for Loki.

A large double-bed, a four-poster of all things, sat near the window, complete with dust-ridden burgundy drapes, tied back and revealing a few dust bunnies and a scattering of straw.

A glint of weak sunlight on gold drew my gaze to the table beside the window. And the sight of a golden spear.

Gungnir.

A rush of relief torrented through me. The table was large, the size of which made me wonder if Nita would have found a dining room bare of its table. The surface of dark mahogany was barely visible, with almost every inch of it covered by papers and books. Despite my relief at seeing my old friend Gungnir again, I didn't just rush at it.

Loki had had plenty of time to mess with the spear. Considering his blood transfusion plan had failed I knew how pissed off he's likely to be. I wouldn't put it past him to booby-trap Gungnir so that I'd end up losing either my hand or my life, whichever the god preferred. I was dealing with a god, magic would not be beyond his ability. All the more reason to tread with care.

I inched forward carefully, arriving silently at the side of the table.

I reached for the spear and as I grasped it I knew something was wrong. The weight felt off, and even the golden gleam seemed dull, not as alive as used to be Gungnir.

A fake spear?

I frowned. Why would Loki want a fake Gungnir? Had he been trying to replicate the spear? Was he trying to provide his Jotunn army with free rides to the Nine Realms? But, there wasn't time to try to figure out how the god's mind worked. I pushed the thought aside and paid closer attention to the papers strewn across the table. Many of the sheets had scribblings in the margins and rings circling specific locations. On closer inspection what I saw made my heart tighten with fear.

Plans.

City maps and building plans for various important places in the States as well as a few prominent buildings around the world. A lot of museums were on the list, the Louvre included.

What was Loki up to?

Was he planning to break into these buildings? Or destroy them? Considering no door or lock had ever held Loki out of a place he wished to enter, my gut leaned toward destruction. But with Loki, you just didn't know. He liked to go big. And he'd need access for his frost giants if he meant to make an entry with more than just his awesome self.

I grunted, annoyed we now needed to investigate another of Loki's plans in Midgard. Just a day ago, we'd thwarted Loki's scheme to bomb Midgard with a vicious airborne poison. Thankfully we'd managed to get the virus away from him in time.

But here he was, at it again. And from the looks of it Loki seemed to have his fingers in many pies, probably orchestrating a dozen different ways to kick Midgard in the gut. Was his plan to take over the human realm? Or did he have something more sinister in mind? I knew his ultimate desire was to relieve the All-Father of his power, what if he wanted to kill him too?

With a sigh, I gathered up all the paperwork, rolled them into a tight scroll and tied the lot to the now empty sheath which used to hold Odin's spear. My gut hardened. This fake spear was just a way for Loki to taunt me. I'd lost Gungnir. I couldn't imagine what Odin would say if he knew. But again I had to wonder if it really was as simple as that. If he just wanted to taunt me or if there was something more.

A glance around the room revealed nothing else of interest. Bare, un-painted walls, with wallpaper peeling everywhere to reveal the wood beneath. An armoire with its doors hanging open, no possibility of hidden drawers and hiding places.

Done in the room I headed back into the passage to find Nita walking toward me, shaking her head. "It is empty," she whispered so softly that I had to rely on lip-reading to make out what she said.

I gave a brief nod and pointed back at the kitchen. With the elf ancient close behind me I re-entered the kitchen. Just as we set foot onto the cracked linoleum, the kitchen door flew open. We remained still as a Jotunn ambled inside, holding a plastic bag of supplies.

More junk food. Pity I didn't have time to let them die from their terrible diet.

I pulled my glamor over me, a blanket of invisibly which had never failed me.

Until now.

The Jotunn looked up from his bag and saw me instantly. I struggled to understand why the glamor magic hadn't worked, but with the Jotunn now racing at me I didn't have time to think.

BOOK: Dead Silence
9.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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