The Hammer of Thor Page 13

  “No but we’re not exactly in dire peril,” he admitted.

  Behind them, echoing out across the dark lake, came splashing followed by an awful grinding, crunching sound. It bounced off the cove’s rocky walls, sounding like it came from a dozen directions. Everyone jumped.

  Jade whispered a light-making spell from her new spellbook. A feeble, greenish ball of light appeared in the palm of her hand, casting weird shadows on the anxious faces around her.

  “Somehow, I don’t think it will be long before we are,” she said shakily.

  “You can do magic?” Phoenix stared at the green light in surprise. “Even with a troll this close? Can you do any spells to help the situation?”

  Jade shook her head. “It’s taking all my concentration just to keep this going. I can’t help, I’m sorry.” It grated to have to make that confession. She ought to be able to do something.

  Phoenix and Marcus exchanged weary, wary glances. “Here we go again,” Phoenix murmured. “Let’s get some torches happening. At least we can buy some time.”

  Marcus nodded. Turning away, the Roman began to instruct the Svear warriors in the ‘light-torches-and-trees’ method of Troll distraction. The groundshaking grinding grew louder and several battle-hardened warriors paled and began to back away. Ásúlfr spoke sharply to them, moving forward with a lit torch in his hand. At the sight of the old man stepping up, the younger warriors took heart and followed his lead.

  Phoenix peered over the cliff-edge then withdrew quickly, his eyes wide.

  “Man, she’s huge!”

  Jade peeked over. She could just make out the silhouette of a massive, jagged creature clambering from the water far below. It was heading for the gorge, apparently its path to the top.

  “You guys outran and outwitted one of those?” Her respect for Phoenix jumped a few notches.

  He shrugged. “Ours was a fair bit smaller, though.”

  “Still….”

  Together, they watched the enormous rock-creature as it moved toward the gorge with surprising speed and agility.

  “Can we do anything before she gets up here?” Jade asked hopefully.

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe roll big rocks down on her?” It was a long shot, she knew but the thought of being chased down by that thing sent shivers up her spine.

  Phoenix frowned. “Aren’t we just going to use the horn to blow for help when we get into trouble?”

  “So?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What’s the point in delaying it?”

  She shivered. “I guess I just want to stay as far away from that thing as I can.”

  “Good instincts,” he said, slapping her on the back, “but we can hardly be in dire peril if we’re a dozen miles away. Nope, we may as well get it over with. I’ll just go put myself in danger, shall I?” He concluded, annoyingly blasé. With a wave, he jogged over toward the narrow gorge that led to the bay.

  Jade stared after him for a moment, worried. She tightened her grip on the horn, ready to blow the minute Phoenix yelled for help.

  *****

  Phoenix felt a whole lot less confident than he tried to sound. He regretted snapping at Jade but he’d felt under pressure to come up with an answer. Thank goodness she had once again pulled a viable plan out of her hat - or Bag, in this case. Unfortunately, he had a really bad feeling that, for the magic horn to work, he would have to put one of his lives on the line. All too clearly, he remembered the fearsome size of Grendel. Vivid images of that wild night reeled through his head until he had to grit his teeth and force his feet to move forward. Even worse, twinges of pain shot through his ankle, ribs and the healed arrow-wounds on his back. Dying again was the last thing he wanted to do. The very last.

  His legs felt leaden as he reached the lip of the gorge. Blood thundered in his ears and his breath grew shallow and quick at the thought of what was coming. Below, the grinding and crushing of great rocks told him the troll was climbing steadily upward, growling as she came.

  Instinctively, Phoenix reached for his sword. Its song burst into his mind, urging him to rush into battle, to die in glorious, bloody defeat. Shaken, he slowly re-sheathed it. He knew it wouldn’t work but its insidious song was hard to resist. There was no point in breaking a perfectly good magic sword. Still, he felt naked without something in his hand. On cue, a burning torch was thrust into his palm. He gripped it gratefully.

  “You’re using yourself as bait?” Marcus sounded almost angry.

  Phoenix gave a half-shrug.

  “I’ll join you,” the Roman boy stated.

  Alarm shot through Phoenix. “No way! I’m not really in any danger but you are! Get away from here, Marcus. I mean it.” He glared at his friend.

  Marcus shook his head. “I can’t, in good conscience, leave a sword-brother to face such danger alone. You would do the same for me.”

  Phoenix wasn’t so sure of that. He had the security of knowing he had more lives. If he didn’t he wasn’t certain he’d be brave enough to offer what Marcus did. He pulled out his dagger and brandished the ruby-studded hilt at his companion. “I’ll be ok. Remember?”

  Marcus stared at him then down at the dagger, obviously unwilling to believe in his ability overcome death. “Are you certain?”

  Phoenix swallowed hard and nodded, trying to ignore a flicker of doubt in his guts. “Go keep the villagers from panicking and getting killed.”

  The Roman stood still for a moment, staring at him, undecided.

  Phoenix felt a surge of gratitude for his loyalty. No-one in his world had ever shown him such unswerving support. The Roman had been brought up in a world where such unshakable loyalty was expected. Phoenix found it uncomfortable and hard to accept. He reached out and gave him a shove. “Go, Marcus. Be safe.”

  Marcus gripped his arm. “And you, my friend.”

  Phoenix turned his back on his friend and stared into the darkness, afraid his face might give away how alone he felt.

  Would dying hurt this time? There was no doubt he was destined to die at least once tonight. How could being squashed by a ten-tonne foot not be painful? The question was, how long would he have to stand it before he “died”? How would he come back if he were squashed flat? For a brief, silly moment, he felt an insane urge to giggle. A cartoon-style vision had come into his head: himself squished perfectly flat then blowing on his own thumb to pop himself back to full size.

  Unsure, he checked his dagger again. Yes, there were still six glowing rubies in the hilt. Surely that had to mean he had six lives left. Doubt flared again. What if, somehow, the Druid’s spring rites had actually cured him last time? What if it were just a coincidence that one ruby in his dagger was broken? What if the seven-lives rule didn’t apply to him and Jade because they were actually in the computer game, not just playing it?

  An inborn fear for his own life gripped him. It was just stupid to deliberately let himself be killed again. Totally nuts! Slowly, he began to back away from the edge of the gorge. There had to be another way.

  Then he took a deep, slow breath and a tightened grip on his torch. There was no other way. Someone had to be in danger for the Horn to work. He could do this. He could. He’d outrun and outsmarted one troll already with just Marcus to help. This time he had a whole backup team. He was not alone. Hard as it was, he just had to have faith in them and in himself. Decisively, Phoenix stepped back toward the gorge, listening and watching. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he strained to see the troll in the darkness.

  Something was wrong. It took a second for the change to register then it clicked. While he’d been thinking about dying, the troll had taken a different path. The sounds of her climbing no longer echoed up the rocky gorge. She had moved around to the cliff face.

  As he turned, a shrill scream pierced the darkness. Peering past the light of his own torch, Phoenix saw Jade stumbling away from the precipice. The greenish witch-light she had cast bobbed at her shoulder, illuminating her terrified face. She w
asn’t looking in his direction. She was looking at the sheer drop before her.

  There, hauling itself awkwardly over the edge, was the troll. It was now less than twenty metres away from where Jade stood.

  “Jade!” “Run!” Phoenix heard Marcus’ yell echo his own as they both started toward her. She half-turned but glanced back over her shoulder at the beast. It loomed closer. There was no way they could reach her in time to distract it.

  “Phoenix!” Jade’s despairing, urgent cry tore at him. He ran faster, legs pumping, Marcus thudding beside him.

  “The horn!” Marcus shouted. Phoenix looked up hopefully. Jade put the golden mouthpiece to her lips as she ran. A wobbly, faint note sounded – like the muffled tone of a distant trumpet. It sent a shiver down his spine and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  Phoenix glanced around, expecting instant results. Nothing happened. It was too late, anyway. Phoenix and Marcus could do nothing as a great, rocky arm swung in an unstoppable arc toward Jade’s sprinting form. They could do nothing as it connected sickeningly and carried on swinging. Nothing, as Jade’s limp body flew through the air toward them and landed, broken and twisted, at their feet.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Jade!” Marcus’ hoarse cry echoed across the dark lake. He and Phoenix reached her motionless form at the same time. Phoenix risked a quick look up at the troll, relieved to see it had turned away from them. Several Svear warriors were taunting it; waving their torches about; yelling abuse and curses at it; trying to lead it away.

  Marcus crouched beside her, his fingers on her throat. The Roman looked up at Phoenix and shook his head. His jaw was clenched, dark eyes stricken.

  “She’s dead.”

  Phoenix crouched too, elbows resting on his knees. Jade looked as if she were sleeping – except that her neck was twisted in a way that would not have been possible if she were alive. Her right leg and arm both lay at awkward angles. There was a thin trickle of blood coming from her mouth.

  He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. She wasn’t really dead. She had just lost one of her seven lives, that was all. He struggled to reassure himself but worry kept welling up in him. Maybe he’d been right before. Maybe the seven-lives thing wasn’t part of the game; maybe she was, truly, dead and he was alone; maybe he would have to fight with this weird world on his own. Dammit, he’d gotten used to having Jade around. How was he supposed to win the game without her? How could she do something so stupid?!

  Phoenix found he was shaking all over. He fought the urge to hit something; to run somewhere – anywhere but here. Trying to think logically, he drew a deep breath. A quick look at the handle of her dagger showed that one of the seven rubies had, indeed, cracked and dulled. His shoulders slumped in relief. Maybe there was still hope. If she was going to recover, they would have to at least give her body a chance to heal itself. It had to be impossible to come back to life all twisted up like that.

  Resolutely, he reached out and turned her onto her back. Her limbs flopped unpleasantly. Marcus uttered a wordless protest then reached out to help as he realized what Phoenix was doing. Together, the boys laid their friend out straight on the rocky ground, hands crossed on her chest, eyes peacefully closed.

  “Will she….?” Marcus asked in a choked voice. He laid calloused fingers gently against her cheek, staring at her serene countenance.

  “I think so,” Phoenix’s voice shook. “I hope so.” She had to. Had to. He couldn’t bear to think of the consequences if she didn’t.

  From somewhere behind them came a frustrated, gravelly roar from the troll-mother; followed by the crackling sound of a burning tree and the strong scent of pine-smoke. Then the ruckus of shouting warriors and thunderous troll-feet was coming closer again.

  “We have to get her somewhere safer, though,” Phoenix decided.

  Stooping, he picked up the horn of Aurfanon and jammed it into Jade’s pack. Fat lot of good blowing that stupid thing had done. Where was the help it had promised? How were they supposed to kill the troll now? Damn Jade for coming up with such a brainless idea anyway!

  With teeth gritted against the anxiety that thudded in his chest, he handed the pack to Marcus and scooped Jade up in his arms. Her head lolled back, pale hair almost touching the ground. She was lighter than he thought; her skin still warm. He almost expected to feel a heartbeat beneath his fingers. She couldn’t be really dead. His thoughts seesawed between helpless denial and unreasonable resentment at her foolhardiness. Please, please don’t let her be dead, the chant ran ceaselessly though his head as he turned away from the cliff.

  A cold, swirling wind sprang up around them. With it came the fresh scent of earth, horses, dogs and, oddly, a hint of sweet wine. Eddies caught at their hair and clothes, fluttering Jade’s cloak and hair like butterfly wings. Phoenix heard the faint, haunting sound of a hunting horn, followed by the baying of hounds and the soft drift of wild laughter and music.

  “What is it?” Marcus’ hushed voice sounded at his shoulder.

  Phoenix stared into the darkness, puzzled. “It sounds like there’s a hunt of some sort going on out there.”

  “A hunt?” Marcus was incredulous. “At night?”

  “Strange, alright,” he agreed. “Especially since it’s coming from out over the lake.”

  He peered into the purple gloom. Again the eerie wail of a hunting horn echoed thinly through the cold air, closer this time. The hounds bayed louder but they couldn’t yet hear the thunder of hooves. Distant, greenish lights flickered over the dark water. Laughter and song ebbed and flowed with the wash of lively music but it all had a weird, other-worldly quality that set Phoenix’s teeth on edge.

  “There!” Marcus pointed out across the lake toward a host of bobbing, pale green lights.

  “I see them but what exactly are they?” Phoenix squinted through the darkness.

  “I have no idea.”

  Several tense moments passed. The swaying lights drew nearer as the two boys watched, spellbound. They barely even registered the now-distant noises of Svear warriors leading the troll away through the forest.

  Finally, the lights were close enough to illuminate the folk who bore them aloft.

  “By Jupiters’ beard!” Marcus swore softly.

  “What the....?” Phoenix had no idea what to say, so he let his words trail off as they stared in awe.

  A multitude of merrymaking hunters galloped majestically toward the cliff. Seated on horses that practically glowed white were twenty or more of the most beautiful, frightening people Phoenix had ever seen. Impossibly tall, severely elegant and unbearably handsome, each rider wore a shimmering, midnight-blue, belted tunic over breeches tucked into high boots. Many of them had grey cloaks, falling gracefully from their shoulders to drape across their horses’ withers. All had long, white-blond hair, pale skin and high, sharp cheekbones.

  Several carried torches burning with an eerie, greenish light that immediately reminded Phoenix of the magic radiance Jade had cast. Did cast, he corrected himself silently. All bore hunting bows and swords or daggers of some silvery metal, glinting purple-blue in the torchlight. Some also held and played a strange assemblage of musical instruments; harps, flutes and drums he’d never seen before. Their eerie music plucked at Phoenix’s brain, distracting him and filling him with a deep sense of unease.

  Gambolling about the riders were a dozen enormous dogs. Pure white, with red ears and glowing red eyes, they were a frightening sight as they came closer. By far the oddest thing though, was that both their steeds and dogs pranced at least fifty feet above the surface of the lake. As the moon began to rise in the east, they rode on air and moonbeams.

  Marcus dropped a hand to his sword. “They are Elvenkind – Jade’s folk. They must be.”

  Phoenix saw the similarities – and the pointed ears. Jade did look like them – but in a more human way. It was as if all the exaggerated, almost alien beauty of these riders had, in her face, been softened into loveliness more a
cceptable to humans.

  “You’re right,” he whispered back, “but that doesn’t explain who they are or why they’re here.”

  At that moment, the whole cavalcade spilled over the cliff edge and reined to a halt only metres away from the two warriors. On a curt command, the dogs sat obediently beside their masters. The group formed a rough wedge behind one person: a terrifyingly tall, elegant male dressed similarly to the others but with a cloak of silver and a thin, silver coronet around his forehead. His eyes were the blackest pits of boredom; his expression faintly contemptuous.

  Phoenix felt distinctly at a disadvantage. He still held Jade’s limp form in his arms but he didn’t dare drop her to snatch at a weapon. Keeping half an eye on the newcomers, he tried to look casual and non-threatening as he laid her gently on the cold ground at his feet. Resting a hand on his new sword, he stepped over her.

  The music stopped. The horses and dogs came to a complete halt. Phoenix felt as if twenty pairs of slanted, Elvish eyes were focussed on him which, unfortunately, they were. He gulped, wishing for Brynn’s roguish tongue. Remembering his manners, he bowed jerkily. He had a vague idea that Elves were a lot more powerful than Jade and a lot more arrogant. Probably best to be polite.

  “My lords,” he began.

  The leader held up a slender hand and stared coolly down at him.

  “What mortal dares summon the Wild Hunt?” Disdain chilled his voice.

  Caught off guard, Phoenix exchanged frantic glances with Marcus. Then the Roman’s eyes widened and he glanced at Jade’s backpack, dangling from his fingers. The horn, of course! Jade’s use of the magic horn had summoned them.

  Relieved to have cleared up that mystery, Phoenix bowed again.

  “We did, my lord,” he managed.

  “By what right do you possess the Horn of Aurfanon?” the Elven leader demanded.

  Phoenix thought fast. If he gave the wrong answer, would they leave without helping?

  “By right of gift, my lord.” He waved a hand at Jade’s inert shape. “Our companion met and was befriended by Queen Aurfanon in Albion. The Queen lent us the horn to help us complete our quests. We used the horn to summon help but we didn’t know what form the aid would take.”