Chapter 22
Liz
We may not have recovered Azar’s memories yet, but I know he cares. He won’t let his father drag me away to a place I’ll die. I’m sure he’ll fight him over that.
I just don’t expect someone else to defy him first.
No, Hyperion says. We will not return.
Odin turns toward his older son slowly. Why would you defy me, Doom of the Blessed?
You must be kidding me. I knew Odin was bad, but he calls his son the ‘doom’ of their people? He should be up for some kind of award for worst father ever.
I released the vanir, Hyperion says. Or rather, Liz released the vanir to save my life, and I won’t leave the humans to deal with the consequences of her brave act alone. I’ll fight the vanir to defend the humans until my last breath.
Fine, then we’ll leave you, Odin says.
Cold.
I will also stay, Azar says. As will Liz. I won’t risk her. I do care about her safety and wellness. So if you want her to accompany you back home, you’ll have to kill me.
Odin laughs. I’m surprised Thunar hasn’t already. He shakes his head. What kept you from ending him when you discovered all of this rebellion? Odin’s looking at his oldest son.
Thunar’s eyes widen as he meets his father’s eye. The salvation of our people? I feared your anger. He has always been your favorite.
You were my son thousands of years before his egg was laid, Odin says.
From the moment you mated with Freya, your devotion to me died.
Thunar tosses his head. You spared me only at her request. Besides, I’m not sure the heart will be enough to save us if we leave.
Even here, even near the heart, our people cannot consume and process any fuel unless bonded to an earth child.
And you? Odin asks. Have you bonded one?
Thunar pauses, his face thoughtful. It’s not an expression I’ve seen on him often. I have, but I might not have needed to. His head snaps toward me. She can call on the magic of the heart and give the blessed the ability you and Freya had, to shift into human form.
Odin’s smile is broad. And when I could shift, I didn’t need to be bonded.
Freya persisted in maintaining her bond to that one, Thunar says. But yes, at the time, it freed you from the necessity.
“Without a bond, the blessed will die, even here,” I say. “But we have been working with a very large nation to try and identify bright humans with whom you might bond now that you’re back.”
Odin’s laughter is bitter. I have no intention of being bound to another earth child. Weakness and pandering, that’s what I got from it. He snarls. You will give me this power to shift forms so I don’t need a bonded. You’ll give it to all my people.
“I can’t do that,” I say. “It’s not that simple. Each time I’ve done it, I had to pull on the magic of the heart and on my own strength, and I’ve never done it for more than a handful of blessed.”
Are you afraid for your own safety? Odin flaps his wings, sending me a dozen yards back. I don’t share that concern.
“I’m telling you no,” I say. “We have another solution. We have humans we can bring to bond to each of you, and then you’ll be able to eat and process fuel and help us defeat the vanir before they can devastate more humans.
Once that’s done, I’ll cut the heart from my own chest and send you anywhere you want. ”
Are you bargaining with me, little one? Odin laughs. I don’t bargain, certainly not with you. He turns to Thunar. You’ve been here. Find her weak spot, and apply pressure.
My weak spot? I dive closer to Azar, and I’m not sure whether it’s to feel safe, or to keep him safe. But that’s not what Thunar had in mind. He leaps into the air, but he doesn’t head toward me at all. No, he dips down and plucks an earth blessed out of the gathered group.
Rufus.
Then he circles around, and lands in front of me. Do as my father says, or I’ll kill him.
“I told you already,” I say. “It’s not that simple. I can’t just make every blessed here able to shift into a human form.”
Odin reaches out and rips Rufus’ head off, blood spraying all over the ground. How about now? How complicated is it now?
I fall straight down, my wings not working, my lungs giving out. Rufus—my flustery, fluffy-topped, mess of an earth blessed friend. Sammy’s good friend. A million Candy Land games, and time playing with Fluff Dog. Christmas morning, with him smiling over a plate of eggs. And now. . .
Like it was nothing, he’s just gone.
No, not gone. Dead.
Gone makes it sound like he’s lost, like he went out for milk and hasn’t come home yet. He’s never coming back, and he’s bonded to Sammy.
Oh, Sammy. What happened when he died?
Is my little brother dead? His bonded dragon just died. I scan the gathered dragons, but of course they wouldn’t have brought little Sammy here. But for a bonded, it doesn’t matter whether you’re there on the front lines or not, not if your dragon dies.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I cry out. “No, Sammy.”
Who’s Sammy? Odin asks. Wasn’t that Rufus? Did she rename one of our people?
He was bonded to her younger sibling, Thunar says. That’s why the threat was effective.
Odin grimaces. And now?
Gordon steps forward, his eyes flashing. Sammy’s suffering, but he is yet alive.
Did one small earth child bond two blessed? Odin smiles.
He did, Gordon says. He’s an extraordinary child.
He may have survived, but we can fix that. Odin lunges for Gordon.
I don’t think. I draw my swords and fling one at Odin, hitting him in his shoulder, the blade sliding right through his thick hide. I slam into him next, plunging my other blade into his neck. Then I retrieve the one I threw, and this time, I aim for his head.
Before Odin, and all his many, many children and subjects can destroy me, I pull hard on the magic of the heart and beg. Change this arrogant, demanding jerk of a sky child into an earth child form, please.
The light explodes out of me, lighting the awful Odin up like a bonfire.
I only wish I’d left the swords inside him, because the look on Odin’s face as he shrinks down into a human shape is priceless.
He looks just as I recall him looking, and he’s wearing the same clothing he wore back in Gullveig’s time.
A tunic and rough-hewn trousers. The wounds I inflicted on his dragon form are now just small bleeding wounds on his shoulder and neck, but if I’d left the sword blades in place. . .
Nothing in this world is free, however, and my attack to defend Gordon has consequences. I don’t even know all the dragons who descend then, many of them flame blessed, many strike blessed.
I have a proposal, Thunar says. Before you destroy Gordon, Liz’s brother Sammy, and everyone else she loves, set her a reasonable task. She must bestow the ability to shift on a few hundred blessed a day. As long as she complies, she will be spared.
Azar shakes his head. Even if she does as you ask, at the end, is your plan to cut the heart from her chest and leave earth?
Odin ignores Azar. “How do you propose we force her to do this? She already denied me, and when I went to attack Gordon, she tried to attack me herself.”
You eliminated the leverage you had almost as soon as you had it by killing Rufus immediately, but when her brother’s life was threatened, she did shift you, Thunar says.
I suggest we go straight to what will harm her the most. In a shocking move, instead of attacking me or Azar or even Gordon, Thunar shifts into his human form.
“In this pathetic shape, I can inflict harm but not kill. Humans in this day and in this place struggle badly with watching the people they care about suffer.” He points.
“Bring Sammy here.” That’s when I see it.
The whip in his hand.
Dread floods my chest. “No,” I say. “Whip me instead. I’m already here.” I land in front of him. “Unless you think injuring me directly would somehow be less effective than harming a little boy.”
“I’d actually like to see this,” Odin says. “Proceed until she’s agreed to beg for this change for at least five hundred blessed each day.”
Stop, Azar says. He and Hyperion have been busy fighting Frigg’s other children, I assume, based on the similarity in appearance between the dragons attacking them and Thunar.
You can’t really mean to be so cowardly you’ll leave the earth children to deal with the vanir alone.
Liz tells me you and my mother fought the vanir together for years and years.
“We lost,” Odin says. “Over and over, we lost more and more blessed.”
We were called the aesir, Azar says. You even changed our name. Was that from guilt?
“We needed to start over,” Odin says. “Your mother knew that. Everyone understood it.”
We should have stayed, Euphrasia says. We never should have left. You’re not alone now, Azar. We support you in staying.
Murmurs from dragons I recognize come from all over, but mostly from those behind us.
We are with you.
The earth blessed will fight.
The water blessed won’t run.
“Enough,” Odin shouts, projecting the same word telepathically too.
As if his father’s exclamation reminds him, Thunar strikes my back with the whip.
I’ve survived being thrown in a volcano—twice.
I’ve been in countless fights, including being poisoned by dragon venom.
I was held underwater, a storm blessed raking his claws across me and crabs eating my flesh while my body cried out for oxygen.
I’m no stranger to pain, but the splash of misery on my back, some of the whip’s shards actually striking my delicate wings, is far worse than I expected it to be.
In spite of myself, I cry out.
The second time he hits me, I whimper louder.