Anything but Ordinary (23 page)

All was quiet and still. With her increased senses, she could make out the shadowy figures at the edges of the water and hear the distant murmuring of people in other parts of the house beyond her vision.
He
was there; she could not see him, but she could hear him, shouting orders as usual. In the old days, her heart would have flipped over at the sound but no more. Now she listened intently and dispassionately. They were leaving soon, she gathered. Off on some ridiculous, pointless quest.  Blundering in where they had not been asked to go.  As soon as they were gone, she knew what she had to do. 

She drew back and surveyed the forge where she had made the ring. No one had been here in centuries, yet the place had seemed curiously untouched by time, like the castle in the Sleeping Beauty. Even the mould in which the ring had been cast was still there, just waiting for her. She would awaken this place. Build on its ruins a citadel, a palace fit for a god. 

Would they never leave? She paced impatiently and then took hold of herself.  What was there to be impatient about? She had all the time in the world.  

~ Chapter Fifteen ~

‘I
don’t think he came this way at all,’ stated Slick morosely sitting down on a handy promontory and pulling up grass.   They were about halfway up the mountain with no sign of Loki anywhere. ‘I think we’ve been played.’ he stared challengingly at her. ‘What do
you
think?’

Tamar did not answer.

‘I mean, why would he return to Valhalla anyway?’ continued Slick mercilessly. ‘It doesn’t make sense. The Tuatha aren’t here, are they? They’re on Earth. Aren’t they?’

‘
None
of this makes sense,’ said Tamar, ‘but, since we’re here anyway. I’m going on. I want to see Odin. I think it’s about time we got some answers.’

Slick felt his mouth go dry. ‘
Odin
?’ he rasped. ‘You want to go and see Odin?  The King of the gods … Actually Odin himself.’

‘Yes, Odin
himself
,’ she replied with heavy sarcasm.  ‘Oh, untwist your knickers, he’s only a god. You didn’t get this bent out of shape about Loki. Odin’s no different really. He won’t do anything to you. I think he knows what’s really going on here and I intend to make him tell me.’

‘You intend to
make
him tell you?’ asked Slick incredulously.

Tamar looked pityingly at him.  ‘You haven’t really got the hang of this yet have you?’ she said. ‘Odin’s only a god. Local deities, minimal powers when compared with say a Djinn. Don’t expect too much or you’ll be disappointed when you meet him. He’s just an old man. He’s never been able to stand up to
me
anyway.’

‘You’ve met him before?’

‘You
know
I have.’

‘Oh, right yeah, yeah. I remember now.’

‘You didn’t really believe it, did you?’

‘It’s not that exactly, it’s just … Well, it’s all a bit hard to take in really.’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Tamar understandingly. ‘It gets easier, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘I think I just worked something out,’ said Slick. ‘Fenrir said that Loki’s powers could only be
reached
through a place on Earth. He didn’t say that they were
on
Earth though. I reckon that place was a sort of separate dimension, like purgatory. You know, you can only enter from Earth and only exit into Asgard. One way doors type of thing.’

‘And that’s why he had to go to Earth to get in,’ said Tamar. ‘Damn clever. I wish I’d thought of that. You’re probably right.’

‘It’s just a theory,’ said Slick modestly. ‘We’ve no proof.’

‘It makes sense though. But we’re still going to see Odin,’ she added to Slick’s dismay. ‘There are other unanswered questions I want answering.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like what Loki’s got against the Tuatha for one thing. That never made sense to me. And besides, Loki set this trap on purpose, he
wants
us to go to Valhalla, and I want to know why.’

‘But if it’s a trap …’ began Slick alarmed.

‘It’s not a trap when you
know
it’s a trap,’ asserted Tamar. ‘Besides, I told you, I can handle Odin.’

Slick sighed in resignation. He was learning, as Denny had before him, that there was no use in arguing with Tamar. She never argued back; she just did what she wanted to anyway. 

‘No more women for you mate,’ he told himself. ‘If I get out of this one alive, I’m becoming a hermit.’ 

Then he looked up and saw Valhalla looming above him. The mightiest citadel ever created. They had arrived. His knees began to shake. Tamar was hammering on the immense door like the bailiffs at his neighbour’s flat, after he had run up a vast internet shopping bill.  For some reason, this did not make him feel any calmer.

* * *

Vidar, under pain of extreme pain (Denny had told him that Stiles would sing until he agreed) had contacted Brynhilde AKA Valerie Byrnehil. 

Brynhilde had been deeply suspicious at first, but had eventually been won around by Denny’s argument. “We’ve got to help Odin to help ourselves.” This selfish point of view was one that she could identify with having lived among the gods, and she had agreed to take them into the heart of Valhalla where all the action was going to be. 

This was not exactly what Denny had had in mind. He had been hoping that they could find Loki and stop him before it got to that. But it turned out that Brynhilde had no idea where Loki was, only where he was going. 

‘Vehaf lost him,’ she said, ‘he alvays vas von trickster. Von minute there, und then gone.  Poof!’ She indicated that he was always disappearing.

‘How will you get us into Valhalla?’ asked Stiles,  wondering why they did not just use mainframe.

‘Ve shall ride of course,’ she said and let out a piercing whistle.

Immediately there was a sound of thunder in the air. Every head turned upwards and saw only the ceiling; there was a dash to the window, which Denny won and he saw, they all saw… seven flying horses, steered by leather clad, golden braided maidens brandishing swords and singing a stirring but incomprehensible warrior song. 

‘The Valkyries!’ breathed Ray in awe. ‘Now I’ve seen everything.’ 

‘Not quite everything,’ said Denny amused. 

The Valkyries trotted into the yard and, from this distance, they looked quite normal (apart from their attire of course) as did their horses. Brynhilde went to meet them, and an argument seemed to be developing. 

‘But zey are not
dead
Brynhilde.’ Denny heard as he crept closer.

‘Und not all of zem are varriors either,’ said another, her lip curling.

‘Zey vill all be both before zis day is over,’ Brynhilde assured her.

‘Ve carry the slain,’ asserted one in a stubborn voice. ‘These are
alive
.’

‘Are ve going to haf a philosophical discussion now?’ snapped Brynhilde, losing patience.

‘No, Brynhilde,’ she was assured by the wide-eyed Valkyrie who looked as if she were not sure what this meant.  ‘I just meant zat ze slain are much lighter than ze living, I am not sure zat ze ’orses vill cope. Although zeze varriors
are
very thin,’ she directed a sneering look at Denny. 

‘Size doesn’t matter,’ said Denny with a sunny smile. 

‘It matters to my ’orse,’ snapped the Valkyrie.

‘Why don’t we just use the mainframe?’ hissed Stiles in Denny’s private ear. 

‘Do
you
want to offend them?’ said Denny jerking a finger at the buxom Brynhilde, who was standing, hands on hips in a manner strongly reminiscent  of  a pissed off  P.E. teacher.

‘I see what you mean,’ said Stiles.

‘We need their help, I think.’

‘Not as much as they need ours,’ Stiles pointed out. 

‘They can take us straight to Odin, no messing. We don’t have time to piss about in mainframe really. Not this time.’ 

‘You vill ride vis me,’ ordered Brynhilde bossily, taking Denny firmly by the arm. 

Stiles smothered a laugh.  What was it with Denny anyway? He was turning into Captain Kirk or something.  It was that little boy lost thing, he thought without a trace of envy.  No woman was safe.  No, that was not true – ordinary women still tended to look straight through him, it was only magical women who went for Denny (except for his Hecaté, of course who tended to treat Denny as a favourite  nephew.  He gave her an affectionate look; she was also looking amused he noticed.) Cindy was a case in point; the thought cast a shadow over the bright afternoon.  What would become of her now? 

There was no time to worry about that now. He dismissed the thought as he was helped onto the back of a rather large looking horse, now that he came to see it up close. It twitched its flanks as he mounted behind the sneering Valkyrie and took off almost before he had settled down. He grabbed helplessly at the Valkyrie’s waist with a muttered apology for this familiarity, but the Valkyrie ignored him as if she were used to this happening. 

He could see Brynhilde with Denny riding behind her; they were up in the lead, of course. It was difficult to tell, but it seemed as if Denny was enjoying the ride.  He always did like going fast with the wind in his hair. Stiles had to keep reminding himself not to look down.  Behind him, he heard a whoop of joy that sounded like it might have come from Ray. Christ –  was he the only one
not
enjoying this? 

Hecaté, with customary grace, had leapt lightly onto the proffered horse as if she had been doing it all her life. She waved reassuringly at him as they passed.  Stiles gave her a strangled grin and held on for dear life.

Denny was finding the whole experience exhilarating. A devotee of fast cars and motorbikes, this was, for him, the ultimate joyride.  And hey, to ride with the Valkyries, that would be one to tell the grandchildren. 

‘Da, da, da, da, daa.  Da, da, da, da daa.’*

*[
This, in case it is not clear, is a vain attempt to represent Denny humming “The Ride Of The Valkyries” By Wagner.
]

‘I hate zat song,’ Brynhilde admonished him. 

‘How about Stairway to Heaven?’ asked Denny cheekily.

‘How does zat go?’

Denny rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve never heard “Stairway to Heaven”?’ he said disbelievingly, and started to hum the opening bars. 

* * *

‘Well. It’s about time you arrived. Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you? Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you here?’ 

Tamar gave Odin a neutral look. The one that made Slick very nervous.  ‘None?’ she suggested. 

Odin glared at the handmaidens that had ushered Tamar and Slick into the grand throne room where Odin had been awaiting them. It was a monument to pure tastelessness, Slick noted even through his terror. Golden walls, the whole bit. The handmaidens scattered, and Odin resumed his benign expression, as if replacing a mask, and tried hard to pretend that he was unaware of the raven on his left shoulder pecking determinedly at his ear. 

‘Ha! Well you’re just in time anyway. Er, it’s just the two of you then?’ he asked, looking over Slick’s shoulder in a distracted way. 

‘Is that a problem?’ said Tamar menacingly.

Slick frowned in puzzlement. Odin was talking as if he had been expecting them. 

‘No, not really, as long as
you’re
here.’ said Odin.  ‘It’s just that I heard that you travel in a pack these days.  Is this your husband that I’ve been hearing about?’

‘No.’

Behind her Slick blushed bright red, which did not escape Odin’s notice. 

‘Oh well, I won’t say a word,’ Odin told her conspiratorially and gave her a huge wink. 

Tamar just gave him a blank stare.  She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something funny was going on here. She signed to Slick to say nothing.  Let them talk, Stiles always said. Never let them know that you have no idea what’s going on. That way, they’ll tell you everything you want to know, and more besides.

‘Cold as a mountain top,’ muttered Odin, looking away from the stare.

‘Anyway,’ he resumed. ‘Lots to do, Loki will be here soon, and Ragnoroc cannot be far behind eh? What’s the plan?’

‘Er?’

‘Well, well, you never were much of a one for the forward planning I suppose. You
can
help us though, can’t you?  I mean I
had
hoped that you would stop Loki before it came to this, but I suppose you can’t fight mythology. As soon as Loki escaped, we knew that he would gather the Giants for Ragnoroc. Is something wrong?’ 

Tamar put her face straight. ‘No, nothing.’

‘What a pity you didn’t sort out Fenrir when you had the chance. But I suppose you know what you’re doing.  I mean, ha, ha, you certainly aren’t going to let him get away with it are you?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Tamar firmly, without any idea what she was agreeing to. 

‘I knew you’d come, even though you don’t like me much.’ He held up a hand to silence her protests, even though she had not opened her mouth. ‘No, no,’ he said. ‘I always knew you weren’t keen on me. I can’t say I blame you really. I’m a bastard. I know it. But after all, if Loki wins its curtains for Midgard too, once Fenrir swallows the sun. – Damn the thing.’ This last was aimed at the raven; he had finally given up his pretence at indifference and he grabbed the raven, which squawked indignantly, waking the other raven, sending them both flapping agitatedly around the hall.

‘Midgard?’ interjected Slick, swallowing a snort of laughter. 

‘Earth,’ said Tamar.  ‘Where’s Thor?’ she asked Odin.  She had adjusted to the new situation quickly as she always did.  So, she had been lied to and tricked, played for a fool and generally messed about. So, she had reached this point by an entirely spurious route. So, there were still a lot of unanswered questions. So, what else was new?  Tamar, quick thinking and impulsive, always faced the situation in front of her and dealt with it. The past was irrelevant.  The fact was, that here and now, Loki was on his way to Valhalla with the “Giants” (presumably the Tuatha – oh, she
had
been fooled) and Fenrir (who had clearly been lying from the start) and she had to find a way to deal with it or it was, as Odin so eloquently put it “curtains” for the Earth.