Anything but Ordinary (21 page)

How he could be so certain was a mystery to Dawber, but he was learning fast – you don’t argue with Denny.

Slick was equally nonplussed at this moment. As far as he was concerned, the underwater pathways all looked the same. Dark, with things floating in them, nasty sinister things. But Tamar forged ahead as if she knew exactly where she was going.  She was trying different locations, always drawn by the magic in the waters.  At least, that what she said. As far as Slick was concerned, they could have been going in circles and he would not have known the difference.

It was a decidedly odd experience. They were not exactly moving, not as Slick understood the term. It was more as if they were still and all the lakes and rivers and even seas of the world were moving past them like a slide show and yet were all in the same place at the same time, it was as Tamar had said; all the waters of the world were one.  And even that was an inadequate description for the experience.  He bitterly regretted that he would never be able to describe what it had been like to anyone. There just were not words.  But he was most relieved that he could breathe all right.

Tamar herself looked like a mermaid. Actually, she looked nothing like a real mermaid – Slick had never seen any mermaids, and if he had, he would pray never to see one again. But she looked almost ethereal, like a part of the water. It was more than mere camouflage, at odd moments she seemed almost transparent, particularly her hair, which streamed behind her like an opposing current in a tranquil tide pool. Slick was fascinated.

Suddenly she darted forward grabbing Slick by the wrist and dragging him to the surface of what turned out to be an underground lake. As she emerged, her normal appearance reasserted itself, and she shot out of the water at a velocity that staggered Slick and (as she was still gripping him tightly) left him breathless as he followed in her wake.

‘This is it,’ she announced. She looked around for signs of company. There were none. No one had been here for centuries.

‘I think we made it,’ she said.

Denny and Dawber were coming to the same conclusion. The underground lake seemed never to have been touched.  It would be a few minutes before Denny was to realise why. 

‘There’s no one here,’ said Dawber unnecessarily.

Denny frowned; something was wrong.

I guess we got here before him?’ asked Dawber uncertainly.

‘Before anyone,’ said Denny as the truth hit him.  ‘Damn, damn, damn, damn,
damn
!’

~ Chapter Thirteen ~

S
tiles hated the void. It was not dark, and it was not light. It was not hot, cold, or temperate. It was not anything.  Still, he reasoned, after a week or so here, which would have seemed far longer, eternity being what it is, David ought to be feeling quite cooperative by now. 

After dragging an unresisting David back to the disused file, Stiles proceeded without preamble to the interrogation.  He opened with a fist to the face, a popular gambit and usually very effective. It did not seem to have much effect on David, however, who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown anyway.

‘Tell me what I want to know,’ offered Stiles, changing tack and being quite kindly – for him. ‘And I won’t have to send you back to the void.’

David gave him a hunted look. ‘Policeman!’ he shrieked and began to laugh hysterically.

Stiles shrugged. He was not having any nonsense from this character; he had seen these tactics before.

‘Okay, if that’s the way you want it,’ he said calmly. 

David stopped laughing at once.  A cunning look came into his eyes, which Stiles did not fail to note. 

‘But do you really know what you want to know?’ he asked obscurely.

But Stiles had been around far too long to fall for this one. David had given him an opening here that he did not intend to waste. 

‘Just tell me
exactly
what the hell is going on,
all
of it mind, or I send you back into the void.’ he said. 

David narrowed his eyes. He had clearly not expected this.  ‘You won’t like it,’ he hedged.

‘I never do,’ said Stiles imperturbably.

‘It’ll take a long time.’

‘I’ve got all day,’ said Stiles. This was true in a manner of speaking. 

David licked his lips nervously. He looked about him in the manner of a trapped animal, but suddenly Stiles was not buying it. He had realised that David was acting. He
wanted
to talk, he probably always had. All this had very likely been unnecessary. He ostentatiously stifled a yawn, and David changed his demeanour instantly; he capered – there really was no other word for his manoeuvrings – like an anxious puppy. 

‘No no,’ he said. ‘You need to hear this. It’s important.’

Stiles gave him a sceptical look.  ‘So tell me,’ he suggested indifferently. ‘That is, if you really have anything worth hearing.’

David lost his temper. ‘You certainly thought I did a minute ago,’ he snapped. ‘Either you want to hear this or you don’t.’

‘I said I did, didn’t I?’ said Stiles as if he did not care one way or another. He was now aware that David was desperate to tell his story and nothing he did or said was going to make a difference in the end. But a studied indifference would probably speed things up. It was about keeping the balance of power in his hands.  He wanted to hear David’s story just as much as David could want to tell it. But he had no intention of letting David know this. If he did, David could continue to procrastinate for hours.

David told him his story, and it was quite a tale too. By the end of it, Stiles was as staggered, shocked and dismayed as he had ever been in his life.  How could they have got it all so wrong?

* * *

Ray was undergoing a similar reversal of his previous opinions, having finally found a reference to the Tuatha in the Norse legends.  It was not what he or anyone had expected.  And it changed everything. In fact, everything was far worse than they had thought.  

He had cross-referenced the Celtic legends with the Norse and had finally formed the strong opinion that the Tuatha
had
appeared in the Norse legends – as Giants.  This opinion was bolstered by the fact that the Tuatha were also frequently referred to as “Giants” in the Celtic legends.

Having made this determination and having looked into the role of the Giants in the Norse legends Ray was forced to admit that they had almost certainly made a terrible mistake. In fact, they had been wrong on almost every count. 

* * *

‘What’s wrong?’ Dawber quite naturally wanted to know.

‘We’re in the sodding
past
!’ snapped Denny.

‘What?’ how do you know?’

But Denny could not explain how he knew – he just knew. ‘Call it a hunch,’ he said sourly.

‘So …?’

‘
So
, Ray sent us to the place where Loki hid from Odin – the exact place, and time, unfortunately.’ He rubbed his head wearily. ‘Oh, it’s not his fault. I should have seen this coming.’

‘Why unfortunately?’ asked Dawber. ‘I mean we could just grab Loki now and …’

‘No, no, no, no,
no
!’ screeched Denny. He calmed down a little. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I know it might
seem
like a good idea. But we can’t. We can’t risk changing the past. You’ll just have to trust me on this. The sooner we get out of here the better. In fact. Anything we do could … Oops, company. Let’s go.’

‘But …’

‘Close file,’ said Denny firmly.

‘Oh, okay then.’

* * *

Tamar was not really having better luck although she
was
in the right time. 

‘So where the hell is Loki?’ asked Slick eventually. ‘Could we have missed him?’

‘We don’t know exactly when he’s going to turn up,’ said Tamar testily. ‘I don’t care about that. He’ll get here eventually. I’m certain he hasn’t been here yet. But where the hell is Denny? He should have been here by now.’

‘Maybe he’s been and gone … what the hell am I talking about? Sorry,’ he added as Tamar gave him a look. Not any particular kind of look, just a look. It made his skin crawl. 

Then Tamar suddenly cried. ‘Look out, company.’ All thoughts of Denny’s apparent abdication temporarily forgotten. 

Slick was dragged unceremoniously back under the water. The tall, cadaverous figure that approached the water rubbing his hands in gleeful expectation could surely not be Loki, he thought.  He had somehow been expecting something more – more impressive. How could that bag of bones be Loki? It
couldn’t
be.

It was. 

‘Stand guard Fulk.’ said Loki to the hairy creature trotting along beside him.  There was a whine, like that of a dog that scents danger. Fulk looked hard at the water, then sniffed.

Loki lost patience. ‘Oh for Odin’s sake Fulk,’ he snapped. ‘Just keep watch – over there.’ he pointed to the cave entrance.

Fulk shambled away muttering, and Tamar let out a silent sigh of relief.

She looked at Slick who nodded. ‘Close one,’ he mouthed.

Loki then reached into his tattered robe and brought out a golden goblet encrusted with jewels and frankly in the worst possible taste (all gods have very bad taste). His eyes were gleaming with barely suppressed excitement.  Tamar caught her breath and metaphorically squared her shoulders. As Loki dipped the goblet into the water, she snatched it from his hand and rose out of the water in one smooth vertical movement scattering water in all directions. It was an impressive move but Loki was too shocked to appreciate it properly.

He recovered fast and dived at Tamar who moved easily out of his way. ‘Ah, ah, ah,’ she said shaking her head in derision, ‘naughty, naughty.’

Then without warning Fulk dived into the water and came up as a giant wolf with a struggling Slick clamped tightly in his considerable jaws. 

Tamar stared in horror and Loki gave a satisfied smile and held his hand out for the goblet. It was stalemate. Tamar could have howled with frustration. Denny would never have let it happen to him. 

‘Don’t give it to him,’ said Slick through pain clenched jaws. ‘I’d rather die than be responsible.’

‘He means it,’ thought Tamar, looking at him. ‘What a pity it doesn’t work that way.’
Noble sacrifices were all very well, but in the final analysis, no one ever won by allowing the (fairly) innocent to die. She would not be complicit in murder. It was only a short step from there to doing murder yourself. No excuses were good enough – ever!  And she would not take even the first steps on that slippery slope.  Not again (it had taken all Denny’s love to pull her back the last time.)  They would just have to find another way. 

Besides, she owed him. 

She looked at Slick sadly and shook her head.  Then she threw the goblet high in the air and both Loki and Fulk leapt to catch it. Tamar grabbed Slick as he fell, and teleported away.

Round one to Loki.

Part Three – RAGNOROC

~ Chapter Fourteen ~

‘W
hat the bloody hell is going on?’ snapped Denny, on arriving back in the disused file and seeing Stiles and David unexpectedly head to head in, apparently, quite friendly conference.  He was feeling bad tempered and frustrated enough already, thanks to the abortive trip to Loki’s lake. 

‘You’re back rather soon,’ said Stiles heavily. ‘I guess it didn’t go well.’

‘Wrong time period.’ said Denny curtly. ‘I guess it was a risk. What’s going on here?’ he repeated.

Stiles gave him a wan smile. ‘Sit down mate. I’ve got some bad news.’

Denny started in shock. Not that Stiles had bad news – was there ever any other kind?  No, it was the smile. Stiles did not do the defeated thing. And he rarely gave anyone a smile of any kind, and when he did it was always a shark-like grin, never
this
. Suddenly Denny was frightened although he did not yet know why. He just knew that something was very, very wrong. 

‘It’s Tam, isn’t it?’ he blurted out in an excess of terror. What else could have pasted that bereavement councillor expression on Stiles’s face?

‘No.’ said Stiles shortly, and waves of relief washed over Denny. Now he did sit down. Unfortunately, there was nothing to sit down on, but that never bothered Denny. He just sat on nothing – he never even noticed.

‘What is it then?’ he said partly angry that he had been so badly frightened and partly relieved that it had been unfounded.

‘Ragnoroc.’ said David lugubriously. Stiles reached out and, almost absent-mindedly, smacked him across the head. ‘You keep it shut,’ he said casually.

‘It seems that our mate here
was
spying on Fenrir. On Odin’s orders,’ said Stiles.

Denny frowned trying to work this out.  ‘But I thought …’ he began.

‘We all just took Fenrir’s word for it,’ interrupted Stiles with a dry humourless laugh.  ‘Even
me
,’ he added with a touch of incredulity.

‘And
you
never take anyone’s word for anything,’ supplied Denny. ‘Get on with it. What’s Fenrir up to?’

‘Working for Loki,’ said Stiles baldly. ‘Everything he told us was a lie.’ His voice was shaking with fury. ‘I blame myself. I’m supposed to be the one who questions everything, and I didn’t and now…’ He trailed off to pull himself together. 

‘Abridged version, Fenrir is Loki’s son.’ he continued in a calmer voice.  He
was
sent to earth by Odin – that part was true – but it was as a
punishment
.  Just as Loki was imprisoned, his son was banished – his memories stripped, and his identity changed. But when Loki escaped, Fenrir remembered. Odin knew it would happen, so as soon as Loki was discovered missing, he sent David and Brynhilde – that’s a Valkyrie – to watch him – Fenrir that is.  She’s still at the agency. Valerie … Something, ha!’ he stopped to look at David for confirmation at this point, who nodded silently.

‘Odin thought that Fenrir might lead him to Loki before it was too late,’ Stiles rushed on. ‘That’s why he was having him watched. But he was too clever for that. If he
is
in contact with Loki – and I think we can assume he is – he never let anyone catch him at it. The awful thing is, all the clues were there, but we never thought to look for them,’ he added despondently.