Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods (36 page)

             
All because of Micah. 

             
“We were afraid you were dead,” she said. 

             
“I’ve missed so much of your life.”  Unconscious, wounded, or otherwise, he suddenly felt jealous of Zeke.  “I . . . I should have been there to help you.”

             
“I won’t pretend I didn’t miss you every day over the last decade, but please, don’t worry about that now.  It’s in the past.  It can’t be changed.” 

             
“And now we’re in the present.”  His voice sounded very hopeful.  He was probably the only person in the world still thinking positively. 

             
“That’s not much of a statement with the planet freezing to death.  In July.” 

             
Micah gazed up at the stars.  “The Ancient Norse believed that the coming of Ragnarok—the final battle that signified the end of the world—would be hailed by three winters together, with no summer between them.”  It felt right to say so.  It reminded him of his lessons, ages before. 

             
Ariel, however, broke free of nostalgia for a moment.  She was shocked.  He had no respect for their situation.  “Micah, the world is
dying! 
We’re part of that!”

             
For a brief moment, he stared at her, not speaking.  She was afraid he hadn’t heard her, but then he spoke.  “We don’t have to be.” 

             
“What?” 

             
“We can escape.  You and me.  The legend also says that during Ragnarok, a man and a woman would hide together in the tree of life and survive.  Come with me!” 

             
She broke free of his embrace.  “This isn’t a fairy tale!”  For ten years she had loved this man and prayed to see his face one more time.  And now she could feel nothing but anger towards him.  She took a step back, trying to balance her emotions.  “Micah . . . I love you, but . . . but you
killed
all those people.  You’ve done terrible things.  You’ve created monsters.” 

             
“I know it will be difficult to understand,” he explained sadly, “but it was all for the greater good.  If I succeed, everyone—living
and
dead—can live in paradise.” 

             
“What do you mean? 
If
you succeed?  You mean there’s a chance you
won’t? 
Then what?  You just killed everyone for no reason?” 

             
“That’s why I need Zeke,” he pleaded.  “Soon Metatron will go to the ethereal plane, and there he will try to revive God.  With your help—with Zeke’s help—we can stop him.  Together, we can create the god we want.” 

             
“The god
you
want!” she yelled.  Her voice died into the night.  Micah didn’t speak.  He took a step back, unsure of what to say.  Ariel, fighting tears, forced herself calm.  “I’m sorry . . . I just can’t do it.  I can’t help you.” 

             
After ten years, a lot had changed.  The last thing he expected from Ariel was a rejection.  “Very well,” he said calmly.  “I will try to stop him alone.  Should you change your mind, though, I’m leaving you the Adramelech.  You’ll find it in Rome.” 

             
He turned and headed back toward land, hurrying before he lost his composure.  He would not break down in Ariel’s presence. 

             
She ran after him, trying to catch him.  Instead she slipped.  Micah, ever skilled and powerful, turned and caught her before she hit the ice. 

             
“So is this it?” she asked in tears.  “Is this goodbye again?” 

             
“I’m afraid it has to be.”  He helped her stand.  “Don’t worry.  I’ve created a god, I’ve destroyed the world, and I will rebuild it as paradise.  I’ve done that all for you.  I promise you that some day we can be together again.” 

             
They kissed.  Only once, then they returned to shore.  Opposite shores.  Each one on a different side of the battlefield.

              “You’re looking well, brother.” 

             
The malak and the sage squared off.  Elijah kept Zeke behind him, protecting him.  “You are no longer human.  We can not still be brothers.” 

             
“Is that an attempt to insult me?” laughed the angel.  “Trading my human form for this one was the best thing I’ve ever done.  The wisdom you’ve gleaned from the centuries is nothing compared to the power I gained on the day we found the book.” 

             
“You have no power.  You are nothing more than a slave to God.  You don’t even have a will of your own.”  He hovered defensively, but Metatron made no move to attack. 

             
“You are mistaken.  Thanks to Frostbane’s mouse here, I have the power to incite the resurrection myself.  Using the soul I stole from him, I will no longer be a slave.  I will be God.” 

             
“Is that why he sleeps?  You’ve taken his soul?” 

             
“Only a part of it, but I have enough.  And now, if you will step aside and allow me to kill him, I will have no one to stop me.” 

             
“Enoch, you know you can’t have him.” 

             
The malak grinned.  “I expected resistance.” 

             
Metatron throws forward his arm, sending a beam of energy at his one-time brother.  But the sage is fast.  He spreads his arms, casting his own spell.  The malak’s beam hits a magical barrier.  Sparks fly where the magical energies meet.  Neither brother relents.  The spells continue to clash. 

             
“You can not have him,” Elijah says calmly.

             
“We’ll see.” 

             
Metatron throws his other arm forward.  A second bolt of energy joins the first.  Elijah’s barrier sparks wildly.  He struggles.  He can’t hold the barrier.  The malak’s power is too strong. 

             
But he has another plan. 

             
He claps his hands together in front of him.  The barrier gives way, and Metatron’s blast hits Elijah in the chest. 

             
But another blast, one sent by the sage, flies at the malak. 

             
Light explodes in the room. 

              Even before she reached the shore, Ariel knew something was wrong.  Lights were on all over the complex.  She could see people running back and forth, shouting.  She ran to the beach.  From the top of the trail, she could hear two monks talking.  But she only made out one word. 

             
“Infirmary.” 

             
Ariel ran. 

             
She darted up the trail and slammed herself into the door of the main building.  It flew open.  A cloud of heat escaped out into the night.  Jack stood in the commons. 

             
“What’s happening?” she asked him. 

             
“I think you should see this,” he answered solemnly.  She followed him with a nervous knot in her stomach.  He led her, as she had guessed, to the infirmary.  When he opened the door, the first thing she saw was Zeke. 

             
Standing in the center of the room. 

             
“Zeke!  You’re awake!”  She ran to him, but nearly tripped over group of monks, huddled on the floor near him. 

             
“Yeah.  I woke up just as it was happening.” 

             
“Just as what was happening?” 

             
He nodded at the monks.  She looked closely.  They were passing medical supplies back and forth.  She could see someone on the floor.  Someone they were trying very carefully to lift onto a stretcher. 

             
Elijah. 

             
Ariel let out a small cry. 

             
“It was Metatron,” Zeke explained.  “They were fighting.  Elijah destroyed him . . . but they don’t expect him to make it.”

             
The monks lifted the sage then slid him slowly off the board and onto the bed.  The sage was tied up with bandages, tubes, and masks.  Looking out, he caught Zeke’s eye.  “It’s in your hands now.  Please . . .” he said weakly, then he passed out. 

             
They left Elijah to the monks and retreated back to the commons.  The excitement in the room had died.  Most of the monks were now working busily in the infirmary or had returned to their usual tasks. 

             
“I know this is sudden,” Zeke said, “but we have to go.  I need to find Metatron as soon as I can.” 

             
“Sure thing,” said Jack, who had learned better than to question a hunt for a monster that had already been killed.  Twice.  “Beats sitting around this Mediterranean Winter Wonderland.” 

             
“You two go ahead,” Ariel said.  They looked at her curiously.  “I’d like to stay here.” 

             
“Ariel?” 

             
“Please.  I’ll be fine,” she said.  “There’s something I need to do.  Something I feel responsible for.”

             
She was stronger know.  She no longer needed help.  And Zeke had to find Metatron before the resurrection.  “All right.  If you’re sure you’ll be okay.” 

             
“I will.  Now go.  And be careful.” 

             
With a quick nod, the two men ran into the night.  Ariel watched them go, then turned to the wall of weapons.

             
I’ve created a god, I’ve destroyed the world, and I will rebuild it as paradise.  I’ve done that all for you. 

             
She pulled Gungnir from the wall.  “I’m sorry, Micah, but I can’t accept that.”  She left the commons and followed the hallway to the training room.

              Jack fired up Quetzalcoatl’s engines and the ship lifted off into the dead air. 

             
“So where we headed?” he asked. 

             
“I have to get to the ethereal plane.  That’s where Metatron is.” 

             
“Fine with me.  Unfortunately, I think you’ll find Quetzalcoatl prefers a more physical flight destination.  Anyone else know how to get there?” 

             
He thought for a moment.  “Micah, I guess.” 

             
“Good plan.  We’ll go see him, he’ll kill me, use you for this resurrection, then everyone will be all ethereal, with halos and harps and the whole shebang.” 

             
Zeke stared blankly into the night.  “I guess we can’t exactly go to him.” 

             
“What about Daniel?” 

             
“Daniel?”  Zeke noticed for the first time that the boy, who seemed ever-present, was missing.

             
“Well, isn’t he the Karellan’s . . . Micah’s Raven?  He might know something, or at least be able to hook us up with someone who does.” 

             
“That’s not a half bad idea.  Where is he?” 

             
“Should be in Nifelheim.  We left him there when the plate fell.” 

             
Zeke’s face went white.  “What?” 

             
“Oh god, that’s right.  We didn’t tell you yet.  The whole place blew up after your fight.”  He paused, then added “Sorry.” 

             
There was a moment of silence.  “Well, that’s where we’re heading then.” 

             
“Nifelheim?”

             
“Nifelheim.  The ruins, at least.” 

             
“Sure.  Why not?”  Jack turned to his controls.  “Another trip.  Rome to Nifelheim.  Nifelheim to Rome.  Let’s run the pilot dizzy.  Who cares?  Why couldn’t that old coot live somewhere closer to civilization.  I swear . . .” 

             
Quetzalcoatl sped off through the darkness. 

Chapter Twenty-Four: Purge

              Daniel stood alone in the communications room of the Muselheim.  The ship was mostly deserted.  Most of the city’s survivors had abandoned their duties and posts when the dust settled.  Except for the occasional squatter sneaking on board hoping for privacy or warmth, the military airships were now very quiet. 

             
A screen flickered in the dark room.  Daniel spoke into a microphone.  “Panama?  This is the Muselheim.  Do you read me?” 

             
The screen danced wildly with static.  The image was poor.  “Raven Uzuki?”  came a voice.  “I wasn’t expecting you.” 

             
“The Karellan is away on business.”  He thought of Zeke.  “I’ll relay your message to him,” he lied.

             
“Very well,” said the man.  On the screen it looked as if the man stood up to attention.  Or sat down.  It was hard to tell.  “Following the strange appearance in the sky earlier this week, our North American satellites have picked up a disturbance.” 

             
“A disturbance?” 

             
“Yes.  With the atmospheric stagnancy, satellite reception should be at a peak.”

             
“Tell that to my monitor.”  Daniel turned dials randomly, hoping for a better picture. 

             
“That’s the thing, sir.  There’s still interference.  Our satellites have taken excellent readings from the entire world, but there’s one dead spot coming from the former United States.” 

             
“A dead spot?” the Raven repeated.  “Do you think it’s significant?” 

             
“We believe it to be the source of this interference.  Also, satellite photos taken of the surrounding areas indicate a drastically altered terrain, as if something huge pushed itself out of the earth.  We believe the dragon emerged from this point.” 

             
Daniel was silent.  Thinking.  Then he asked, “What about malak activity?” 

             
“There has been no sign of them since the dragon appeared.  It seems as though they’ve disappeared, although we’re still looking for them,” the man reported. 

             
“Thank you.”

             
He turned to disconnect the communication, but the man spoke again.  “Sir?” 

             
“Is there more?” 

             
“Not of my report.  But my men are worried.  The entire city is worried.  It’s grown colder and our food will run out in the next week or two.  Will there be relief coming soon?” 

             
“I’m sorry to say I can not give a definite answer.  Nifelheim is struggling as well.  We will send aid when we can.” 

             
“Thank you sir.”  The man saluted.  Or put on a hat.  Or a fly landed on the lens.  Daniel couldn’t tell.  After a moment, the screen went dead. 

              Fires burned for kilometers in every direction.  None of the survivors dared to wander too far away from one.  Fires were safe.  They were warm.  They were light. 

             
Here in the ruins, fire was life. 

             
The survivors of the fall adjusted to their new lives in many ways.  Some people sang and danced.  To them, the fall of Nifelheim was the end of a life in Hell.  The end of an oppressive government. 

The escape from Plato
’s cave. 

Others were not so happy.  They had been separated from their families.  Or pulled out of comfortable first-class lives.  Some sat by the fires and sobbed.  Others searched the camps, the ruins, or the surrounding areas.  Some people were found and rejoined with their families. 

              Most weren’t. 

             
In one part of the camp, a family huddled together under a threadbare blanket, trying to stay warm.  Near the ruins of the city, a man stood comforting a crying woman.  He stared at the wreckage, fighting the urge to cry himself.  Elsewhere, young men danced around an especially large fire.  They sang loudly and passed a dirty bottle of rum back and forth. 

             
One of the dancing men stumbled away from the fire.  A child, hiding in the shadows watched eagerly.  The man passed out, and the child scurried out to rifle through his pockets.  He pulled out a few trinkets and squirreled away.  The other men ignored the child and continued their hedonism. 

             
A man passed by.  He called to the dancers, asking for help scouring the ruins.  They sneered at the mention of work.  One of the dancers finishes the bottle of rum and throws it at the man, who runs away. 

             
They dance, oblivious to the ghostly form rising from the ground behind them. 

              The Muselheim sat at the center of the camp, but most of the survivors kept their distance.  A few ventured to sneak on board, hoping for warmth, but were disappointed.  The doors of the loading dock were left wide open, guarded only by Dumah, Lilith, and a defense militia captain who had come to report to his leader. 

“
Sir, we’ve scoured the ruins of the city and conducted a search of the survivors.  We’ve seen no sign of the Karellan or Raven Hugin.  The highest ranking authorities in the city are now Raven Uzuki and yourself.” 

             
“And Jae-Hoon?” he asked, worried. 

             
“I’m sorry sir.  We’ve found no trace of Father Lee.”

             
“Keep looking,” he ordered.  It came off harsher than he intended, so he softened his voice and added, “Please.  It’s important to me.”

             
“Of course sir.”  The soldier bowed deeply and left. 

             
Dumah knew the law.  He was second-in-line if the Karellan died or was incapacitated.  The city was now his responsibility. 

             
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted less. 

             
“Well congratulations, Adam,” came the voice of his wife.  “You simply
had
to go on rabble-rousing.  Now look what’s happened.  You’ve killed the city.  What a marvelous king we have.”  She laughed, amused by her own insults.

             
Now
he could think of something he wanted less. 

             
He ignored Lilith and picked up a small microphone.  Like it or not, he was in charge now.  These were his people, and it was his job to keep them safe.  It was time to address his nation.  He pressed the transmitter and spoke, his voice blasting for kilometers over the Muselheim’s sound system.  “Attention, Nifelheim survivors.  This is Supervisor Dumah speaking.  The events of the past few days have taken much from us.  We’ve lost family, friends, homes, food, and the very things we need to keep ourselves alive.  Despite our losses, we must keep going.  We
must
move on to find some place where we can find food and warmth.  We must work to stay alive. 

             
“I must ask everyone to gather whatever possessions they have left and please board the Muselheim.  We have to look for somewhere else to live.  Another city with supplies, a patch of warm land, or anywhere we might be able to make a stand.  To grow food.  To rebuild a safe city.  The Muselheim is ready and waiting.  This is our only chance for survival.” 

He concluded his speech and turned the microphone off.  Then he waited.  He stood there vigilant for an hour, but no one came. 

              “My, but do you command respect!” taunted Lilith.  “I swear, if it weren’t for that Raven, we’d all be doomed.” 

             
“Not now,” Dumah said.  He noticed she had spent the entire hour waiting with him, but didn’t say anything.  “We’ve got bigger problems than playing I-told-you-so.  We’ve got to figure out a way to stay alive.” 

             
“You’ll never figure out anything.  You rule over chaos.  Over nothing.”  She threw her arms into the air and approached mocking him.  “Welcome to Nifelheim!  Land of the Dead!” 

             
“Lilith, I swear,” he growled under his breath. 

             
“What’s happening out here?” interrupted Daniel, coming out of the ship. 

             
“Nothing,” said the frustrated Supervisor.  “No one wants to do anything.  They’ve all decided to sit here and die.  Any word from the other cities?” 

             
“Everyone’s pretty scared.  Most of them run on nuclear power.  That should last them for a while, but not indefinitely.  The food will run out soon.” 

             
“Any word from Jae-Hoon?” 

             
Daniel shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  We left him with the Karellan.  I’m afraid we’ve lost him.” 

             
“But we don’t know.  We haven’t found the Karellan yet, either.  Right?  We don’t know who won.” 

             
Lilith let out a snort. 

             
“I’m really sorry.  But I don’t think we’re going to find him.  I don’t think we’ll find either of them.”  Daniel didn’t want to speculate, but he didn’t see how Jae-Hoon could have survived.

             
Dumah sunk to the floor.  “No,” he said.  There was a long pause.  “No.  You’re right.”  He paused, collecting himself.  “Well, both the Karellan and Hugin are missing.  Looks like you’re our leader, Mr. Raven.  Any orders?” 

             
Daniel laughed.  “Are you kidding?  I’m just a spy.  You’re the Supervisor.  It’s your job now.  You’ve done well enough.  I’ll leave everything to you.” 

             
Lilith snorted again.  “There’s a laugh.  He already tried the leadership thing.  ‘Please, listen to me.  We
have
to live!’”  She laughed cynically.  “Give me a break.  No one out there is going listen to him.” 

Dumah glared at her. 

Daniel stepped between them.  He faced Lilith sternly, despite his small stature.  He spoke intensely.  It surprised all three of them.  “Regardless, if we are to keep any semblance of order, Supervisor Dumah will be the one we report to.  Is that clear?” 

             
Lilith stared in awe at the Raven.  It had been a long time since anyone issued an order so forcefully to her.  He stood firm, waiting for her answer. 

             
They were interrupted by screaming from the camps. 

              The malak raises the drunk’s body into the air.  The man kicks wildly at the demon, aiming for horns or wings or anything a malak might find sensitive.  His blows pass through the ethereal monster harmlessly. 

             
But the angel’s grip on his throat is tight. 

             
The other drunks back away in horror.  The malak flicks his wrist.  The man’s neck snaps.  His body goes limp.  The monster closes its eyes.  Its chest expands.  It looks as though it’s drinking.  Feeding off some unseen food. 

             
Devouring the drunk man’s soul. 

             
A woman screams in horror.  The drunks turn and run.  One trips and hits the ground hard.  The malak tosses his prey to the side and moves in on the fallen man.  He struggles to his feet and turns. 

             
And takes one step. 

             
His body shakes violently.  The cold air seeps inside him.  He looks down.  The arm of the malak emerges from his chest.  His blood drips to the ground.  It passes through the malak’s arm, leaving the limb clean and ghostly.  The demon tosses him beside the first dead man and gives chase to the living. 

People run.  They look for safety, but can
’t find it.  Malak rise out of the earth.  The angels are everywhere in the camp.  Most of them kill effortlessly.  They wait for someone to run by in a panic.  They reach out.  Then the person dies. 

             
They are not hunting.  They are simply killing. 

              The militia captain runs up the ramp to the Muselheim loading dock.  “Sir, there’s a problem.”  He breathes heavily, exhausted.

             
“What is it?”  . 

             
“Malak, sir.  They’re attacking the camp.” 

             
Dumah turns to Daniel.  “Prepare the fleet for take-off.”

             
“Yes, Sir!”  Daniel says, throwing in a salute for good measure.  He turns and runs into the airship. 

             
Dumah grabs the microphone and turns it on.  “Everyone, try to remain calm.  Please proceed calmly, but quickly, to the Muselheim or the nearest airship.”