80AD
The Hammer of Thor
by Aiki Flinthart
Smashwords Edition
Copyright Aiki Flinthart 2011
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Discover 80AD Book One - The Jewel of Asgard - at Smashwords.
80AD Level Two
The Hammer of Thor.
LONG BAIYU
Curled in shadow and huddled against pain, Long Baiyu waited. Where once he had waited in fear; without hope or strength; now he had hope, at least. Hope that his meager efforts had been rewarded; hope that deliverance was on its way; hope that the reign of terror and power held by his nemesis would soon be over.
Sometimes, however, a little hope can be almost as painful as none at all.
The door to his cell flew open. It crashed against grey stone. Silhouetted there was the man Baiyu least wished to see: his captor; his enemy; his oldest friend: Feng Zhudai. Raising a heavy head, Baiyu blinked in the feeble candlelight. His gaoler knew better than to bring anything brighter.
“What do you want?” Baiyu’s voice was hoarse from lack of use; his throat dry; lips cracked with cold.
For several moments, Zhudai simply stood in the doorway, his face hidden in shadow. Candlelight gleamed off rich gold embroidery on his silken robes. The sound of his harsh breathing echoed in the cold stone chamber. Finally, he took a hasty step into the room and lifted the candle. His skin was taut with anger, cheeks hollow, dark eyes fiery with glittering intelligence and barely-hidden rage.
“What have you done?” Anger snapped through his voice, lashing at his prisoner. Baiyu flinched, blinked again but said nothing. Zhudai made a noise of frustration and stepped closer. Hope surged in Baiyu. He gathered his strength. Did he have enough to defeat his enemy and escape? Only let him come a few paces nearer. Even if he died trying, it would be better than this endless imprisonment. Death would ensure the end of his captor’s plans. Zhudai needed him alive.
That flicker of hope must have shown in his eyes. His keeper stopped and glared at him before backing away again.
“Oh no, old friend.” He said more calmly. “You won’t trick me that easily. I have just come to tell you that your little scheme will not work.”
“What scheme is that?” Baiyu tried hard to sound indifferent, but disappointment tightened his throat.
“I felt your pitiful attempt at magic,” Zhudai sneered. “Felt it and tracked it down. You tried to draw help from another realm, but you failed. They have been destroyed. You are still my prisoner and you will not escape. In time, you will be the instrument of my success – whether you agree or not.”
Baiyu fought his own internal battle. His long incarceration had drained much from him. It was too easy to believe his last strength had failed and the help he had sought was not coming. The dark hole of despair beckoned. A small part of him fought back. He had felt their success. His masters’ words returned to him: he who speaks, does not know; he who knows, does not speak. If Zhudai had killed them, then he would not have bothered to ask what Baiyu had done; would not have been so enraged. No, they lived.
Realising this, Baiyu was tempted to gloat; to throw the logic back in his blood brother’s face, but that would be stupid: he who knows, does not speak... Let Zhudai think he had broken his prisoner at last. Let him become careless in his arrogance. Perhaps that would allow the rescuers he had drawn into this world a chance to succeed again…..
CHAPTER ONE
Jade opened her eyes to an uneasy world of greys and blacks; of unidentifiable shapes and soft, sighing sounds. She lay on her stomach, awkwardly sprawled on something cold, slippery and hard. Her right knee ached like she’d knocked it and her right hand stung.
“Hello?” Her voice seemed muffled. Something cold and wet feathered across her cheek. She touched her face with numb fingers and shivered. “Phoenix?” The darkness eased somewhat. Perhaps her eyes were adjusting. Around her patches of light and shadow shifted and swam. It was difficult to tell where the ground ended and the rest of the world began.
She gathered her feet beneath her and staggered upright. Shaking, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and tucked her fingers into her armpits to warm them. Her backpack slipped off her shoulder, dragging at her arm. As she took an uncertain step, her foot kicked something long and wooden: her quarterstaff. Snatching it up, she tried to feel more secure.
Was she alone here? Wherever this was, it certainly wasn’t home. She tried to hold back a rising sense of betrayal. She’d been so certain that finishing Level One would catapult her home again. It hadn’t. This wasn’t her England. In fact, it probably wasn’t England at all.
A wolf howled: distant; mournful; eerie. Definitely not England. Sharp, fitful breezes stung her eyes. Jade blinked and scrubbed a hand over her face, trying to hold back bitter tears of disappointment. She just wanted to go home.
For the hundredth time in the last five days, she wished she’d never turned her father’s computer on; never been drawn into this bizarre digital world; wished that she was home again in her warm house with her six annoying sisters. She missed her father; her own, warm, comfortable bed - and hot showers!
Roaming the 80AD world sounded awesome - when she was watching her avatar on a flat screen from the comfort of her father’s study. Living it was a whole different thing. Her scared thirteen year old mind was trapped inside the digital body and memories of a seventeen year old half-elf in a strange time and place. She’d been nuts to think living the adventures she’d always read about in books would be romantic and exciting. Right now, the most awesome thing she could think of to see would be the giant golden arches of a MacDonalds restaurant - or her very own bathroom.
The ground crunched as she stamped her feet to warm them. More cold, fluffy stuff fell on her face and Jade at last realised what it was: snow. A wolf howled again, closer; a primeval sound that echoed strangely and made the hairs on the back of her neck rise up. Dark forms around her resolved into trees. She was in a snowy, dark forest somewhere. Well, that didn’t help much. How could it be snowing at night when it had been a clear spring dawn in the ancient Britain they had just left?
The last thing she remembered was jumping through the portal from Stonehenge in a desperate attempt to escape a horde of Roman soldiers and their ambitious governor, Agricola. She’d thought the portal was going to get her home, but it must have brought her to Level Two of the game, instead. If that was right, then home was still a long way off – four more Levels, in fact.
So, if she was on Level Two, where were Phoenix and the others?
A low moan to her left sent her in that direction, feeling her way carefully. A dark lump in the snow moaned again. Her hands touched leather and steel.
“Phoenix?” He moaned again. “Phoenix!” She dropped to her knees. He lay face down in the snow, his skin cold, his pulse a bare thread. She ran her hands over him, using her Spellweaver skills to try and sense injuries. He had fought the Romans until the last to give the rest a chance to get through the portal. Had he been wounded?
Her seeking fingers touched wood. She gasped in horror. Two arrows protruded from his back, very close to his heart, by the feel of them. Her instinct was to yank them out, but hesitating, she took her hand away. She had fought the Romans with as much magic as she could. If she pulled them out now, she didn’t have the strength to Heal such deep wounds quickly enough. He would die. His only chance was if they could find shelter and warmth. She needed food and her herbs to replenish enough strength to save him.
She needed help. Where were the others?
“Oh, my head!” A voice behind made her turn.
“Marcus!” She hurried over, slipping in the deepening snow. Strong hands grasped hers. Jade sobbed in relief, clutching at them like a lifeline. “Are you ok?”
“Yes - just a headache bad enough to kill a god. Where are we?” The Roman boy sounded pained.
Another, smaller figure joined them. “Somewhere dark, wet and way too cold,” it said, helpfully.
“Brynn!” She hugged him, feeling how thin and small he was beneath his patched clothes. “Where’s Truda?”
“I’m here,” the young redheaded girl piped up. “It’s awful cold here.” She wrapped her too-big druid cloak tighter about herself. A flurry of wind and snow snatched the hood off her face. In the gloom, her big blue eyes were dark holes in a white oval.
Jade grabbed Marcus’ hand and hauled him upright. “Phoenix has been hurt. We need to find shelter or he’s going to die.”
“Show me,” Marcus ordered.
She led them to their fallen friend. Marcus felt his pulse for a long moment.
He shook his head, barely visible in the gloom. “It’s too late, Jade. His heart has stopped. He’s gone. Phoenix is dead.”
“No!” Shoving him aside she dropped to the cold ground. Her hands shook with fear and cold as she felt Phoenix’s jugular. Nothing. Leaning down, she placed her ear against his back, listening hard for breath or heart sounds. Still nothing.
“No,” she whispered again. Yanking the arrows out, she put her fingertips to the wounds. There was no bleeding.
Marcus was right. His heart had stopped.
She shoved Phoenix over onto his back, trying to remember her CPR classes from school. Laying her hands over his heart, she pushed down as hard as she could, over and over, counting aloud. One, two three. One two three. Tears dripped down her cheeks and froze into little icicles on her chin. Every once in awhile, she stopped to force a breath into his cold lips or to feel for a pulse. The others stood around in awkward, breathless silence; not really understanding her actions.
Pump; pump; pump.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
“Live, you idiot!” she yelled finally, thumping his chest in frustration; sobbing. “You can’t die on me now, Phoenix! You can’t leave me here alone!”
A warm hand covered hers. She looked up blearily into Marcus’ grim face.
“He’s gone, Jade.” The Roman murmured, his eyes dark with pain. “Even if you started his heart again, he would just bleed to death if you can’t heal him. Can you?”
Numbly, she shook her head.
She slumped, covering her face, unable to believe it. “He can’t be dead, Marcus. He can’t be. What am I going to do? If he’s gone then I can’t go home, either. I…I…” she ran out of words as her throat closed up with tears and disbelief.
Marcus drew her to her feet and held her. Brynn and Truda gathered close, adding their small bodies, warmth and shared sorrow.
“He died a warrior’s death. It will be alright,” Marcus said at last, stroking her hair.
Jade blinked, brushing freezing tears from her cheeks. How could he say that? A warrior’s death? What was the use of that? Dead was dead. It wouldn’t be alright. He didn’t understand. Phoenix was a real person, like her. What had happened to his body in the real world? What would happen to her now? Her only connection to her world was gone, she would be stuck here forever. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. She was already supposed to be home. What was she going to do? How could she survive this place on her own? What about her real life? What about her family and Phoenix’s?
With Phoenix gone there was no way she could stop Feng Zhudai and save both worlds. This world and her own would be destroyed if Zhudai succeeded in his ultimate plan. They had been drawn here together. They were supposed to stop Zhudai – together. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!
Fresh tears burned her cold cheeks. She turned from Marcus to stare blindly into the dark forest, feeling helpless and very young. Without Phoenix, it just couldn’t be done. Zhudai would win. She would die here too and never see her father again.
“Jade,” Marcus spoke again, gently. “I know this is tough, but we need your help. If we don’t get out of this cold we’ll all die. The wind and snow are picking up. We need to get into shelter. Can you see any nearby?”
Taking a long, slow breath, she tried to get hold of herself. Here, it wasn’t possible to curl up in a ball of misery and hide like she did at home. People depended on her here. Marcus was right, she couldn’t let them down. They were all she had now. Pushing aside grief for later, she extended her half-Elven senses to penetrate the gloom.
“There,” she pointed off to the left. “I think there’s a little hut through the trees.”
Brynn looked toward it, shoulders hunched and face turned from the freshening winds. “I’ll go check it out.”
A wolf called. Its desolate cry was answered by another, somewhere very close. Truda pressed herself into Jade’s leg.
“I don’t like wolves,” she whispered.
Jade closed her eyes, listening to the shadowy forest. “They’re closing in on us. A pack of ten. They’re starving and desperate or they’d never come near humans. Marcus, we have to get to that hut fast.” She looked at him, then down at Phoenix’s still form. “But Phoenix…..we… we can’t leave him here. Help me lift him. Brynn, stay with us.”
Marcus handed Phoenix’s sword to Brynn. The boy grasped it gingerly, struggling to hold its weight up. Marcus sheathed his own weapon and bent down. With a grunt of effort, he picked Phoenix’s body up in a fireman’s carry over his shoulders.
“Let’s go. I can’t carry him far,” he groaned. “He must weigh three hundred libra!”
Jade snatched up Phoenix’s backpack and slung it over her shoulder, staring into the darkness around them. She pushed Truda in front of her. Brynn lead the way, sword raised as high as he could lift it.
A low-pitched, snarling rose from the shadows to their right, making the hairs on the back of Jade’s neck rise up. Truda whimpered. Another snarl came from the left. A ghostly, grey shape drifted through the trees, pacing, watching. A second appeared; a third. They slipped closer; ever closer.
“Faster, Marcus,” Jade urged.
“Which way,” he panted.
“A bit to your left,” she instructed. “About another twenty or so paces.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement: a huge she-wolf springing from behind. With a cry of warning, Jade spun, swinging her quarterstaff in a defensive arc. The tip connected solidly with exposed canine ribs. The wolf yelped, twisted in midair to snap at the staff, then landed and backed away with a snarl.
Another wolf rushed, snapping at her heels. She jabbed backwards, catching it across the sensitive nose. It yipped and retreated. Snarling and snapping at each other, the dogs closed ranks, keeping apace with the humans as they ran.
She reached within herself, searching for reserves of magic she could use against them to buy some time. There were none. She had exhausted herself escaping from the Romans and helping the druids at Stonehenge. It was a miracle she even stayed on her feet.
“Almost there!” Brynn called, catching hold of Truda’s hand as the child stumbled in the snow.
Marcus staggered to the door of the hut and pushed at it with a foot. It was locked.
“I’ll have to break it down.”
“Then we won’t be able to close it again. Move over,” Brynn shouldered the Roman, completely failing to shift him. Marcus stepped aside, lowering Phoenix to the cold ground. The boy-thief crouched down, peering closely at the door.
“Give me a second and I’ll get this open.”
“Marcus!” Jade cried, trying to watch all the wolves at once as they slowly closed in on their intended victims. Together, she and Marcus faced the hungry canines with nothing more than a staff and a sword between them. Jade handed Truda her knife and shoved her behind.
“Watch over Phoenix and protect Brynn.”
Trembling, the girl nodded, edging backward until she almost stumbled over Phoenix’s prone form.
The wolfpack sidled nearer.
Jade stood shoulder to shoulder with Marcus and faced the animals with frozen fingers and a racing heart. Was this it? Would they all die here in the freezing snow, torn to pieces by wild animals?
Behind the main pack, a single, huge male wolf sat back on its haunches and watched. Jade found her gaze inexplicably drawn to the animal. There was something intelligent, almost regal about its bearing. In a jet black pelt, its eyes were a startling clear, pale grey. It turned them on her. Its jaw dropped, pink tongue lolling out and, just for a second, she had the strangest feeling it laughed at her.
The wind picked up, wailing like a banshee through the treetops. It flung snow in their faces, blinding and cold. The temperature dropped. Jade blinked away the snowflakes and the sense of connection with the black wolf dissipated.
Growling, a closer animal launched itself. She brought her staff around, cracking it across the muzzle. With a yip of pain, it landed awkwardly and scampered backward. Three more crept in, heads down, muscular shoulders rippling as they looked for a way past the weapons. Marcus jabbed at one, wounding it on the shoulder; it paused, then kept coming.
“Any time now, Brynn!” Jade whacked another toothy muzzle.
“This isn’t easy!” the boy returned tartly, sawing at the door latch, “The leather is frozen solid. I’m almost through.”
A huge, silvery animal slunk forward, lips pulled back in a tooth-bearing snarl. It darted around, catching Truda’s druid cloak in its fangs and dragging her, trying to separate the smallest, weakest member from the rest of the group. She screamed.
Marcus swore. He struck at the wolf’s neck and, with a single blow, severed its spine. The black wolf howled, raising its muzzle to the night. Truda burst into tears.
“Got it!” Brynn yelled. He shoved the stiff door open and yanked Truda to her feet. Together, they dragged Phoenix’s body inside. Moments later, Jade and Marcus followed, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. Outside, a horrifying snarling, snapping, growling ruckus told them exactly what was happening to the wounded animals they’d left behind.
For several, long moments, the four simply stood, shaking in the darkness. At last the sickening sounds stopped. The wolfpack moved noiselessly off into the worsening storm. Truda’s tears calmed to occasional sniffs.
Someone groaned.
The dark-silence suddenly became tense again.
“Was that you, Brynn?” Jade asked reluctantly. It hadn’t sounded like him, or Marcus.
“No,” the boy whispered. Truda pressed herself up against Jade, shivering.
Another groan cut through the apprehensive stillness.
“Is someone here?” Jade called, unable to suppress a faint tremor in her voice.
There was no answer. The room waited, shadowed and still.
She heard Brynn fumbling to pull out his flint and tinder. He struck a small flame. It illuminated the space for long enough to reveal a central hearth, already laid with tinder and wood. There were no other people. He lit a fragment of straw and held it beneath the dry firewood. It caught. Very soon a cheerful, warm fire cast dancing golden light onto rough, thatch-and-timber walls and a dirt floor. It wasn’t much, but it was better than being outside.
Once more a faint groan sounded. Stunned, the four companions looked down. The noises came from Phoenix’s body.
Jade dropped beside her friend and felt for a pulse. It was ridiculous, of course. They were imagining things. Phoenix was dead. There was no way both she and Marcus could have been mistaken…..
Thump-thump…thump-thump…..thump-thump.
A heartbeat.
An unmistakable pulse in his throat.
Phoenix lived.
CHAPTER TWO
“He’s alive!” Jade looked up at Marcus, stunned.
With a grunt of effort, she rolled Phoenix over and felt for the arrow-wounds in his back. They were gone: nothing but hard little bumps of scartissue, felt through holes in his jerkin and shirt. Dumbfounded, she rolled him back and stared at him for a moment. He moaned again and opened vague blue eyes. Hope jumped in her heart. He really was alive. It was impossible and incredible, but true.
“Jade?” His words were slurred and slow. “Where the heck are we?”
“Uh…” she replied, glancing around the little room. “I have no idea – not home, anyway.” She couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot.
Phoenix pushed himself up from the hard floor, holding his head with one hand. “Why are you grinning like an idiot and why do I feel like a hit and run victim?”
“I…I’m pretty sure you were…um…dead,” she replied at last, touching his shoulder to assure herself he was actually real – well, as real as it got in this world, anyway.
“Huh?” He blinked at her, then looked at Marcus for confirmation.
The young soldier nodded solemnly. “Two Roman arrows through your back.”
Phoenix twisted his arm awkwardly up behind himself, feeling the scars and holes. He rotated his shoulders, then stared at the backs of his hands as though surprised to see them.
“I was…dead?” he shivered, lapsing into confused silence.
“Let’s all get warm,” Jade advised, giving him a gentle shove toward the fire.
It was a bedraggled, damp and exhausted little group that huddled around the cheery fire. They stared at the flames in silence for a long time. At last, Truda stirred, yawned and gave them a grateful smile.
“I’m glad you’re alive, Phoenix.” She said earnestly. “And I’m glad the wolves didn’t eat me. And I’m really glad you came and got me. The druids were nice and all,” she waggling her plump fingers toward the heat, “but I’m looking forward to getting home. I miss my pa .”
“Uh huh,” Jade replied automatically. She wasn’t really listening, being more focussed on warming her numbed hands and casting sidelong glances at Phoenix. How could he be alive? What did it mean?
“Yep,” Truda added, “my pa will be so glad to see me. So will Ullr and ma, but,” she turned thoughtful, “I don’t know about Magni or Modi – they can be mean sometimes; but Grandpa Odinn will be real glad. He’s nice.”
“Uh huh,” Jade repeated, scooting closer to the fire. The pointed tips of her ears were frozen and she couldn’t feel her toes. She was relieved to be out of the wind. It sounded like a regular blizzard rising outside. The wolves howled again, further away now.
Inspecting the room again, she spotted a pile of furs and skins in one shadowed corner. Scrambling up, she pulled several closer to the fire. Wrapping a thick fur around the still-chattering girl, she handed some to Brynn, who snuggled into them, extending his bare toes almost into the fire. She heaved a huge bearskin to Phoenix, who held it in his hand for several seconds before apparently realising what he was supposed to do with it.
She stared at him again, gratitude mixing with incredulity. He was alive! Even with magic, she’d felt no trace of life before. One arrow had gone right into his heart. How could he possibly be alive?
He turned his head to look at her, blue eyes darkened by remembered pain.
“I was really dead?”
She nodded at him. He shivered, pulled the fur around his shoulders and resumed staring at the fire.
“I tried to kill your father, Marcus,” he murmured. “Sorry.”
Jade gasped and glanced at their friend, worried. Brynn and Truda stared at Phoenix, eyes wide, mouths agape.
The Roman glanced up, his expression arrested. “Don’t be. I would have done the same, given a chance,” he finally admitted, extending his hands toward the flame. “Did you succeed?”
Phoenix shrugged. “Don’t think so. Pilum through the shoulder should slow him down for awhile, though.”
Marcus shook his head. “Zhudai will heal him.”
Phoenix grunted and lapsed back into silence. A short while later, he turned his back, curled up under the fur and appeared to fall asleep.
Eventually, Jade roused herself enough to bring out the Hyllion Bagia. She spread the magic bag on the floor and dipped a hand into its black maw. Muttering a request, she drew out the remains of the enormous meal that had been provided two days before by the dryad Queen, Lady Aurfanon. There wasn’t much left, but it was enough for the four conscious companions to each have something with a little left over for Phoenix. A small, logical part of her mind noted that it was still perfectly fresh. Perhaps something in the magic of the Bag kept it that way.
“Will he be ok?” Brynn asked, putting a small pot of water on to heat over the fire.
Jade cast Phoenix a worried glance, then nodded with more assurance than she felt.
“I think so. He’s sleeping. The arrow wounds are just tiny scars. I guess he just lost some blood and is tired.” She sighed and sat down, extending her hands toward the fire. “I think we’re all worn-out.”
The others agreed wholeheartedly.
“We should be celebrating,” Marcus murmured, chewing on a piece of unleavened bread. “Phoenix is alive. We succeeded in our first Quest.” He waved the bread at Truda. “We have the Jewel of Asgard and we’re one step closer to killing Feng Zhudai .”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Jade scrubbed at her face, yawning. “It’s just a bit hard to get all excited when we haven’t really rested for five days. I’m so tired my brain feels like it’s stuffed with cloth. Plus, I have no idea where we are or what we’re supposed to do next.” She clenched her fingers and jaw against a wave of fear and worry. She’d never thought they’d have to face the second level at all. She’d be so certain that just finishing Level one would be enough to get her home. It wasn’t and now she had no idea what to do. At least, with Phoenix back, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.
“I know what you have to do,” Truda piped up. The others looked at her expectantly. “You have to take me home,” she spread her hands and smiled, blinking her big eyes at them.
Jade grimaced. “We know that.” She tried to be patient, “but we don’t have a clue where your home is from here. Do you know?”
“Oh yes,” the little girl replied with bright assurance. “It’s Bilskirnir.”
“What’s a Bilskinor?” Brynn cut in.
“It’s my pa’s house and it’s Bilskirnir,” Truda corrected, her small face serious. “The Druids never could say it right, either. They couldn’t even say my name right. It’s more like: ‘Throoder’, ” she said it with a sort of sing-song inflexion and almost swallowed the last sound. She smiled at their blank looks, “but I like Truda, so you can keep calling me that.”
“Wait,” Jade held up a hand, “we’re getting off track. You are the thing we had to get to complete our first quest: you are the Jewel of Asgard. Now I thought Asgard was the place you were from, but this Bil....whatever.....that’s your home? A house somewhere?”
Truda nodded, red braids bouncing. “That’s where pa and ma and my half-brothers are. I’ve been gone an awful long time. Weeks and weeks, I think. So long I’ve almost missed my birthday. Uncle Loki stealed me from my bed one night and took me to stay with the Druids. He plays silly jokes on us all the time, but this one was a bit mean. I’m not happy with him at all!” She pouted at the fire.
The others stared at the girl, dumbfounded.
“Your uncle stole you as a joke?” Jade managed at last. “He took you away from your family for months as some sort of prank?”
Truda nodded, apparently not fazed by the situation at all. “Uncle Loki is fun, but sometimes he can be misch...misshhev... mischiv..”
“Mischievous?” Jade prompted.
“That’s it!” the girl exclaimed, beaming. “Loki’s not my real uncle, but that’s what we all call him.”
There was a pause. Jade looked thoughtfully at her. “Um....is this kind of behaviour normal in your family?”
“Oh yes, we’re always getting into fights and playing tricks an’ stuff,” Truda replied, poking the fire with a handy stick. “Once my pa dressed up as a bride so he could get back his favourite hammer from Thrym – he was the big meanie giant who stole it.”
“A bride?” Brynn giggled. “With the flowers and dress and everything? Just to get his hammer back?” When Truda nodded and looked mildly offended, he howled with laughter, apparently finding it highly amusing that a man would dress up as a girl just to get a tool back.
“It’s Mjölnir,” Truda muttered. “It’s a special hammer.”
Jade shook her head irritably. Somewhere in her brain, a small part was trying very hard to get her attention. Something about Truda was important. Something her conscious brain was trying to make sense of, much to the annoyance of her subconscious, which had already worked it out. At last, several things clicked into place. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Jade asked the inevitable questions.
“Truda,” she interrupted the girl’s chatter, “did I hear you say something about Grandpa Odinn before?” Truda nodded, her bottom lip sticking out; eyes huge. Jade sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “Am I right in thinking that your pa would be Thor, then?”
“Uh huh,” Truda confirmed, obviously worried that she’d done something wrong. “Is that bad?”
Jade glanced up, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She sent a resigned look at Marcus and Brynn, both of whom stared back at her in confusion.
“It’s not bad,” she sighed. “I should have realised, really, when I heard she was the Jewel of Asgard.”
“Would you mind explaining exactly what you should have realised?” Brynn prompted.
“Remember what our next task is?” Jade reminded him. “We have to return the Jewel of Asgard to its owner: Thor.” She pointed at Truda, “Asgard is the home of the Norse gods. It turns out that Truda is the Jewel and her father is Thor. Thor,” she finished with a tired, slightly hysterical laugh, “is none other than the Norse God of Thunder and War.”
Quite appropriately, there was a sudden increase in the ferocity of the wind outside, followed by a distant rumble of thunder.
Truda looked up, her face alight with excitement. “Pa!” She jumped up and raced toward the door. Marcus was quicker and barred her way. Jade followed. She still had trouble believing that, in this realm, the Norse Gods – and their powers - were actually real, not just exciting stories she’d read. It was pretty daunting.
“Oh no.” Marcus grabbed Truda’s arms and held her still. “You can’t go outside in this storm. You’d freeze in ten seconds - and remember the wolves?”
“But it’s my pa up there,” she wailed, pointing to the ceiling. “Right now, he’s up in his chariot, throwing Mjölnir to make the thunder and lightning.” She stomped one slippered foot and looked mutinous. “I want to see my pa.”
“C’mon,” Jade tried to be reasonable, “if you did go out now, he wouldn’t be able to see you or hear you in all this snow and wind anyway.”
Truda looked doubtful for a moment then her expression firmed again into determination. “He might,” she scowled, folding her arms.
Abruptly, Jade had had enough. She was too tired to cope with a tantrum-throwing kid at the moment – godsdaughter or not. She jerked her head at Marcus and together they moved aside.
“Fine.” She said coolly. “Go out and yell your head off. I don’t care. In fact, if he does hear you, it makes our job much easier, but,” she warned when Truda’s face lit up, “don’t blame me if your yelling attracts the wolves. Right now we’re in no position to fight any battles for you.” She stood back and folded her arms, too, watching the precocious child.
Truda flounced to the door and grabbed the inside, wooden doorlatch. She opened it a fraction. Wind and flurries of snow slipped in, making the fire flicker and jump. She shivered, but opened it a little wider and peered up into the heavy, blue-dark sky. Cupping a hand around her mouth, she shrieked into the wind:
“Pa! Pa! Come ‘n get me, Pa!”
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled its wild, weird call. Its packmates answered with a hair-raising, disharmonious chorus. Some were still quite close by the hut. Truda slammed the door shut and pressed her back to it, eyes wide. She straightened up with a quirky, apologetic sort of grin at Jade and Marcus.
“Maybe I’ll just wait until we get to Bilskirnir, then.”
“Wise move,” Jade exchanged ironic, laughing glances with Marcus.
She ushered Truda back to the fire, where the girl-child snuggled under the furs with a dispirited sigh. Brynn produced his little wooden whistle and twiddled a few tunes until Truda complained it was too shrill. They huddled together beneath the furs, looking very young and very sleepy.
Jade watched. Someone had to be responsible for them. True, Brynn was a tough kid. He’d looked after himself for months after his parents had been killed by Roman soldiers on orders from Feng Zhudai. Truda, however, might be the daughter of a god and as tall as Brynn, but she was really very young.
Jade looked away, tears filling her eyes. This was stupid. Her, responsible for two kids? In her world she was hardly more than a kid herself. She missed her own father fiercely. Taking Truda back to her father suddenly seemed like a very difficult task. Instead of being safely back home, as she’d hoped, she was stuck trying to save both this world and her own from Feng Zhudai’s schemes.
Somehow, they had to stay out of Zhudai’s clutches and find Thor; but where? She had no idea. She’d read a little bit of Norse mythology back home, but not enough to remember where Thor hung out. A vague recollection that all the Norse gods lived in Asgard didn’t really help much. How did they get to Asgard? How long would it take?
Then it occurred to Jade that Zhudai would still be hunting for them, even though they’d left ancient Britain. She shivered and clutched the furs closer. If the warnings of the Druids and the strange woman in gray were true, then Zhudai wanted Truda for some power she had. He wasn’t likely to give up easily if she had something that would let him control or destroy the world. Arch-villains were like that: tenacious, ruthless.
They had to find a way to get the girl home – quickly.
“Jade?” Truda’s sleepily worried voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Mmmm?” she scrubbed a hand over her face and added a little wood to the fire, trying to push aside her fears. Marcus, nearby, paused in the act of sharpening his sword to listen.
“It is almost my birthday, y’know” the young girl murmured, her eyes drooping.
“That’s nice,” Jade replied, watching sparks fly up from the fire.
“I’ve sorta lost track, but I think it’s only about five or six days away. I’ll be seven and I really do have to be home by my birthday,” she lay down, pillowing her head on a fur and dragged another over her bare legs.
“We’ll do our best,” Jade sighed. Marcus smiled at her.
Truda yawned. “No, I mean I really have to be home. If I’m not, then Spring won’t come; winter will stay; men will die everywhere. It will be the worst winter ever; then will come the fires; then wars between the gods and giants. It would be the beginning of Ragnarok – the end of all the nine worlds. So I really…..have…to..” She fell asleep in mid sentence.
CHAPTER THREE
Phoenix curled under the furs, staring at the rough timber wall. He heard the low murmur of voices as Jade and the others talked about where to go next, but none of it had really registered. One thought possessed his mind: I’m alive.
He’d been dead. Dead; gone; finito; over; finished; kaput. He knew it: every cell in his body somehow knew it. It had only been for a few minutes, but he didn’t think he’d ever forget it.
There had been no “near death” experience; no white light to stay away from; no seeing his body from outside; just....nothing – and that had scared him more than anything. Was it only nothing because this was a digital world, so his death hadn’t been real? That old woman in the gray limbo land had said this world was as real as their own. Dying had certainly felt real.
Without really wanting to, he relived it.
In some ways, death had come as a relief. The blinding agony of those two Roman arrows in his back was unbelievable. Drawing a breath became impossible. He felt his body shutting down and almost welcomed it. Pain vanished; fear slipped away along with his consciousness.
Coming back to life was the shock. At the time, Phoenix only registered that he was numbingly cold and wet. He slipped in an out of awareness as the others carried him towards the hut. He barely remembered the wolf attack – just the cold, weakness, pain.
Now inside the hut, he was content to lie in the furs in order to just think for awhile. Sleep wasn’t yet an option. It seemed too much like the nothingness of death.
Instead, he reveled in the sensations that told him he lived: the sound of his own breath; his heart; the rush of blood surging through his veins; even felt the fuzz on his unbrushed teeth. It was hard to believe that this was only a digital body, not a real one. The complexity of a software program which could make everything so very real was unimaginable. He felt real. Death had felt real. Too real. Coming back to life was impossible, but then, so was being magically transported into an adult body in a different world. Maybe the old lady who’d told them this world was real was right. Maybe it was.
He was so used to this warrior’s form now that it was hard to remember living in his gawky thirteen year old body at all. After being killed once, he now had a very strong desire to keep this body healthy.
Most of all, the overwhelming idea that he had actually died, kept hijacking his brain; derailing every attempt at focussing on the future. All he could think about was the past.
For three years he had been angry at his father for dying in a car accident in the real world. For three long years he had blamed his father for giving up and leaving his family when they needed him. At the scene of the accident, the paramedics told his mother that her husband had just lost too much blood and had too many injuries to be saved. Phoenix hadn’t believed them. He’d always thought that his dad could have lived – if he’d really wanted to. He thought it just showed his dad didn’t care enough about his family to stay around.
Now, finally, Phoenix had a dim insight into what his father must have been through. His body had sustained far fewer injuries, but he had been glad to let go when the pain got too much. All thoughts of Jade and getting both of them back home had become irrelevant. He hadn’t even tried to hang on.
Somewhere, deep inside, an old knot of pain dissolved forever. For the first time in years, Phoenix could think about his father with love and regret, rather than anger and hurt. For the first time, he could painlessly remember all the great, fun things they had done as a family; how hard his dad had worked to support them; how he’d never missed any of Phoenix’s Aikido gradings or school functions.
Phoenix struggled to come to terms with how he felt. It was like he’d somehow let his father down by not appreciating their time together; and by being so angry with him when he died. His throat closed as he fought back long-suppressed tears.
Voices intruded on his thoughts. Someone, maybe Truda, said something about the end of the world. A somewhat stunned silence followed. Phoenix drifted slowly up from his own memories and resurfaced in this reality to glance around. Jade was staring at him, frowning and nibbling on her lower lip as she did when she was really worried.
He rubbed a hand through his long hair and sat up. Time to rejoin the land of the living mentally, as well as physically.
“What?” he prompted her.
“You ok?” She cast an anxious look at the sleeping girl as though she wanted to ask him something else, but felt obliged to check his health, first.
He shrugged. “Guess so. I was dead. Now I’m not. I’ll get used to it, I suppose.
“But how...?” Jade began, distracted by his words.
“The daggers, remember?” Phoenix tapped the hilt of his iron dagger where it sat on his hip. He pulled it out, turning it so six of the seven rubies embedded in the handle glowed blood-red in the firelight. One jewel was cracked; dulled into an ugly, dirty dark pink.
She sat up straight, pulling out her own, bronze blade. He watched as understanding sank in: they each had seven lives in this game-world. They’d guessed that these might be represented by the seven rubies in their respective daggers, but they hadn’t been certain. Now they were. The gems in her knife hilt were unsullied for she had lost no lives.
He saw, too, fear dawn as she realised that he had only six lives left. It looked like there really were still four levels of the game to complete before they could hope to get home to the real world. Each level would be more challenging than the last. Half-a-dozen lives might not be enough. He grimaced at her look of horrified comprehension. They would just have to be enough. It was just a game, after all. He’d played enough to know how it worked. If he kept his wits about him, he could pull them through. Besides, it was still kinda fun – apart from the dying bits, anyway. He’d just have to avoid doing that as much as possible.
“I don’t understand,” Marcus interrupted. “What has your dagger got to do with not dying? I thought the druid’s Spring Equinox rites must have healed you the way they did me.” He turned his bare leg to show a thin, healed sword-wound. Phoenix knew it had been inflicted only a short time before, by Roman soldiers.
Phoenix saw Jade open her mouth. Before she could say anything, he touched her on the arm and shook his head.
“I think Marcus has proved we can trust him, Jade. I vote we tell him everything now. We can bring Brynn up to speed later, when he wakes up.”
Jade shut her lips, gave a reluctant nod and stayed quiet while he did his best to explain without resorting to techno-babble about computers. That would be magic in this world, anyway.
Marcus glanced between them. “You’re saying that the two of you have come from another world to this one by magic?” He said evenly. “You have more than one life and the magic is somehow linked to your knives and those two amulets you wear?”
Jade drew out the necklace she wore tucked under her clothes. Phoenix lifted his off his chest. Side by side, it could be seen that the amulets fitted together neatly – two curved teardrop shapes; one in pearly silver, one in gold and each with a dot of the other colour in it. It was the ancient Chinese Yin-Yang symbol, indicating Balance and Harmony.
“Why don’t you just use magic to make the amulets take you home again?” Marcus seemed almost angry. “Why do we have to go through this?” He waved a hand around, indicating the hardships they had already encountered and were certain to meet ahead.
“We tried,” Jade assured him, “but it didn’t work.”
“I’m pretty sure now,” Phoenix cast a sidelong glance at Jade, who sighed and nodded, “that we have to complete all five quests in order to save both our worlds from Zhudai and get back to ours. We also,” he added as an afterthought, “have to make sure our amulets stay out of Zhudai’s hands. Evidently they would give him some sort of extra power.”
Marcus shuddered at the thought. For several tense moments, he stared hard at them both, his face an unreadable mask. Phoenix wondered if he were annoyed with them; or even afraid of them. Both would be understandable. As they watched, the tension drained from his shoulders and the Roman sat down cross-legged before them.
“And this new quest?” Marcus seemed to accept the situation, even if he didn’t understand it.
Jade brought Phoenix up to date on what they knew of Truda and Thor.
“O...K....,” Phoenix mused, “so the question remains: where are we and what do we do next?” He eyed Jade. “What was it Truda said before? Something about the end of the world?”
She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “She said if we don’t get her back to Thor and her home by her birthday in five or six days, winter will not end; then there will be wars between gods, followed by the end of the world – they call it Ragnarok.”
He looked at her for awhile, trying to process the information. He looked at Marcus, who seemed unfazed as he resumed rhythmically sharpening his sword. He looked at the sleeping Truda, innocent-seeming instigator of another adventure.
“Is that the end of the world five days or so from today?” he asked, “or from tomorrow?”
“Phoenix!” Jade seemed shocked at his cavalier attitude. “Don’t you get it? We’ve only got five days to get her home to Bilskinor before all hell breaks loose.”
He held up his hands for peace. “I get it. I get it. I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do about it right now. It’s the middle of the night; in a storm; in a god-knows-where forest; and we’re surrounded by wolves. What do you want me to do?”
“He has a point,” Marcus put in. “We’re best off getting some sleep while we can. If the storm has died down in the morning, we can work out where we are.”
Jade flung off her furs, stood up and strode to the door and back several times before finding the words to express her obvious agitation. “But what if the storm goes on for days? What if we do get out, but the wolves come back? What if we can’t find Bilskinor? What if we can’t find where we are? What if Zhudai tracks us down again; or Agricola follows us? We can’t let them get our amulets or Truda, remember?”
“Agricola is Governor of Britain by the wishes of Titus, Emperor of Rome,” Marcus reminded her. “My father can’t leave his post just to chase us around the world. We’re safely away from him.”
“And what about Zhudai?” she shot back.
Marcus twisted his mouth up in a grimace. “Now that’s another thing altogether. Is that illusion spell you put on me still working?”
Jade sucked a quick breath. Phoenix glanced at her in surprise. Had she forgotten her own handiwork? In Britain, Zhudai had been able to use his magical abilities to track Marcus by Farseeing because he knew the son of the Governor by sight. Once they’d realised it, she had placed a spell on Marcus to deflect Zhudai’s Sight.
Tilting her head, Jade narrowed her eyes at Marcus. Her gaze unfocussed and she didn’t blink for so long that Phoenix’s own eyes began to water in sympathy. Finally, she nodded and he saw relief flicker across Marcus’ face.
“And he’s never seen the rest of you, so Zhudai doesn’t know where we are,” the Roman noted. “If he can’t find us, he can’t send anyone after us.”
Jade sank back down, some of the worry easing from her expression. “So how do we find out where we are and where we have to go to get Truda home, then?”
Phoenix shrugged. “In the morning we climb a mountain or a tree and find the nearest village and ask them how to get to Bilskinor. We know we have to return the Jewel – Truda – to Thor, so we can probably assume we’re somewhere in one of the countries that follow the Norse gods. Don’t forget the second half of our quest,” he reminded them, “We’re also supposed to get hold of Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir. We need it for the third quest.”
Jade groaned. “Stealing things from Gods is always hazardous to your health.”
Marcus expelled a short breath and nodded.
Phoenix scrubbed a hand across his hair. Dust flew out. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. The first thing is to find out where we are and how to get to Bilskinor.”
“So, do either of you know anything about these Norse lands?” Jade prompted.
Marcus shook his head. “My sister’s husband, Tacitus, has travelled the Germanic countries somewhat, but I confess I never read his journals. He mentioned barbaric, petty kingdoms spread across many lands and separated by a narrow sea – the Suebian Sea, I think. That’s all I remember,” he admitted. “His writings make dull reading.”
“I never paid much attention in geography,” Phoenix admitted. He eyed Jade expectantly. She was the book-worm.
She dropped her chin into her hand and gazed into the fire. “I’m pretty sure that the countries we call Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Poland and Germany wer…are all Norse people in our world. I just can’t remember what we call the sea that’s in the middle of them all. It joins the North Sea.” She huffed, clearly frustrated that the name eluded her. “For goodness sake! I could tell you exactly what plants grow there.” Sitting up, she stretched and twisted her back with a grimace. “We’ll have to ask someone. We’ll look pretty stupid saying ‘hey, what country are we in?’, though.”
“The Baltic Sea!” Phoenix exclaimed, recalling a documentary he thought he’d successfully ignored in history class. “That’s what we call the Suebian Sea.”
Jade glared, visibly irritated he had remembered it before she had. “Helpful,” she scoffed. “Now all we need to know is...oh, wait,” she said in mock surprise, “where we are and where to go.”
“Hey!” Phoenix glared right back at her, stung. “That was uncalled for.”
She flushed and turned away. “We’re not going to get anywhere tonight. I’m going to sleep.” She muttered. Jerking the furs up over her shoulder, she lay down with her back to the others.
Phoenix watched her for a few moments, annoyed by her petty arguing. Why was she so hung up on being a smartass know-it all? What did it matter who knew the name of a stupid sea? When he looked up, he found Marcus returning his gaze gravely.
“She’s frightened,” the Roman commented, putting his sword aside and stoking the fire.
Phoenix shrugged. “We all are. Does she have to take it out on me?”
“You’re the only connection she has to your world,” his reply was cryptic.
“So?” He blinked at Marcus, confused.
“You died. She was stranded here when she thought she’d be home. She was angry, scared and alone,” Marcus leaned back on his furs and crossed his legs at the ankles, staring into the fire with an oddly wistful expression on his face.
“Oh,” Phoenix paused, suddenly understanding. It was exactly how he’d felt when his father had died: angry and scared. He rotated his shoulders, still feeling a faint ache between the shoulder blades. “I’ll try not to let it happen again. It wasn’t much fun, anyway.” He grinned at Marcus, who smiled a little in return.
“I think we’d all appreciate that.”
*****
Many thousands of miles away, Long Baiyu smiled. Staring into the cold blackness of his cell, he let his mind drift. . Zhudai’s shields around his cell were strong, but flawed - as was much of his work. It cost Baiyu dearly to keep a light link with his rescuers over such a distance - enough to know they were safe, but not enough to communicate Now he knew they were truly on the path to complete their second quest, he could afford to rest a little.
They had yet to realise their true goal, of course, but that would come in time. With each new experience, they grew and learned – and their chances of surviving to find and free him increased. Many of the obstacles they faced were in their minds, anyway. Only when these were overcome would they truly be able to release him and themselves from bondage.
As he let his thoughts float, Baiyu became aware of something else: the gossamer touch of another mind seeking his. Before he could withdraw, it seized him, striking and tearing at his mental shields with fearful force.
Zhudai!
Baiyu wrenched his mind free and withdrew into the weak shelter of his exhausted body. Shivering, he strengthened his inner defences. How could he make such a stupid mistake? Zhudai’s shields were not weak, the flaws were simply a temptation. How could he let himself be lulled by the belief that his rescuers were safe away from Zhudai’s influence in Britain?
Now Zhudai knew through which land the four travelled. He had plucked that much at least from Baiyu’s incautious thoughts. He wouldn’t know exactly where, but it would not take him long to find out.
Unable to restrain himself, Baiyu released a howl of anguish that echoed off the uncaring stone walls.
CHAPTER FOUR
A soft, sighing sound from one of the others roused Jade from a semi-doze. She had woken when the fire died down in the wee hours. It was the first night they hadn’t set watches and she’d been too uneasy to go back to sleep after stoking the flames. The storm gentled sometime after midnight, but cold still seeped through the walls of their shelter. It was now hours later and dawn breathed grey light beneath the door.
She glanced at her companions, then down at the pile of fur on her lap. She was almost finished making warm clothes for their little group. When she couldn’t sleep, she’d started turning the remaining pile of furs and skins into cold-weather gear. In all the fantasy books she’d read, no-one ever had to make their own clothes. It was either not mentioned, or some kindly villager just turned up and handed the hero what he needed. Here, there was no-one. Luckily, she seemed to know how to sew in this world and she’d found a small sewing kit tucked into a chest of furs in the corner.
The bone needle slipped through her cold fingers as she cast a troubled look at Phoenix’s sleeping form. Guilt twisted her stomach into knots. She’d heard Marcus’ comments last night and, unhappily, faced her own childish reactions toward Phoenix. She was finding this all much, much harder than she’d thought it would be. He seemed to see the whole thing as some big, exciting lark of an adventure. He enjoyed bouncing from one fight to the next; one perilous situation to another. He treated it like it really was just a computer game they would inevitably win.
For Jade it seemed much more real – too real most of the time. She was scared almost all the time and far less certain of victory. Phoenix clearly didn’t see the infinite number of things that could go hideously wrong here. His unwavering nonchalance was annoying – and reassuring, too. As long as he thought they could win, she carried a faint hope that he was right.
When he died, it had terrified her. Suddenly, for the first time her life, she was completely alone. Marcus and Brynn didn’t really count – they were part of this world. With Phoenix gone, there was no-one to rely on; to believe in. Only herself – and that wasn’t enough; she wasn’t enough.
Sniffing, Jade blinked away stinging tears and refocussed on her work. She misjudged the next stitch and caught a breath as the needle stuck into her finger. Blood welled and she stuck it into her mouth, trying not to cry again. She was good enough. She had to be.
The others slept on.
*****
Sometime later, as sunlight brightened the room, Brynn sat up and shoved his bedding aside with a yawn. Phoenix sat up too and nodded at the boy, noticing the tracks of tears on his grubby face. He recalled that Brynn had lost his last brother in the battle at Stonehenge. There wasn’t much he could really say, though, so he didn’t mention it. The kid was strong and he had them as a family now.
“What’s for breakfast?” The boy stretched, yawning again.
“Errr,” Phoenix glanced around the small timber hut, but there were no convenient refrigerators or vending machines to be seen. He sighed. Time to hunt – one of the major drawbacks to living 2000 years in the past. That, and a complete lack of flush toilets – speaking of which....
“C’mon,” he jerked his head toward the door, “let’s go find a...ahh....tree..” Brynn flashed him a knowing grin and nodded. Phoenix squared his shoulders, “Then I guess we’ll have to rustle up something to eat and see where we are, too.”
“We’re going out to hunt up breakfast,” he calmly informed Jade as they headed for the door.
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