Asgard Awakening 2
Author: Blaise Corvin
Date: 2020-06-25 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Harem
Description: Travis Sterling has escaped a life of slavery and has attained incredible magical potential, but he is still vulnerable. What’s more, inheriting Odin’s mantle has automatically earned him a slew of enemies. But now that Trav has power and freedom, he needs a plan. What’s more, he must explore who he is and what he is becoming. His beautiful valkyries have given him an early advantage and good council, but they won’t be enough, not anymore. The universe is a lot larger than Trav had ever imagined...and more dangerous. In order to survive, he’ll need to forge alliances, create new weapons, maste

Contents

Title

Copyright

Also by Blaise Corvin

Dedication

Foreword

VeilVerse Universe

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Book End

Author's Note

VeilVerse Universe

Asgard Awakening 2

Asgard Awakening, Book Two

A VeilVerse story

By Blaise Corvin

Asgard Awakening 2

Copyright ©2020 by Blaise Corvin

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Also by Blaise Corvin

*Note: Some titles are scheduled for launch in 2020 or 2021

Artifice Universe

Delvers LLC

1. Welcome to Ludus

2. Obligations Incurred

3. Adventure Capital

Nora Hazard

1. Mitigating Risk

2. Competitive Advantage

3. Accounts Payable

Delvers LLC (Cont.)

4. Golden Handcuffs

5. Hostile Takeover

VeilVerse

Asgard Awakening

1. Asgard Awakening

2. Asgard Awakening 2

Yggdrasil Universe

Secret of the Old Ones

1. Luck Stat Strategy

2. Airship Privateers

Written with Outspan Foster

Anthem of Infinity

1. First Song Book One

2. First Song Book Two

For all the folks in the HaremLit community : )

Foreword

Hello readers! This book is classified as GameLit and HaremLit.

You might be curious what GameLit actually is. GameLit, a larger genre umbrella, is any fiction with game mechanics or that takes place in a game. RPG GameLit, or LitRPG is a subgenre of GameLit where stories include some sort of linear progression for characters that is significant to the plot of the story. These types of stories have been extremely popular in Russia and other countries where they are called LitRPG. They’re just now making an impact in the West!

RPG GameLit is usually a funky mix of Fantasy and Sci Fi. The settings can vary, but what most GameLit novels have in common is a world that most gamers can immediately relate to.

Asgard Awakening is definitely GameLit, and some would classify it as RPG GameLit/LitRPG as well.

And again, this series is also Harem Lit, a genre and trope of literature that includes polyamorous relationships with a single lead.

***

This is going to be my first solo book I’ve published in 2020, and I’m kind of terrified about it. This will also be my first book I’ve published since the virus landed. What a year. If you are reading this, I hope 2020 is going well for you, it’s getting better, or you’re reading this from the future, in a flying car, and a 3d printer just made you some delicious food.

Fantasy has always been wonderful entertainment vehicle for me, and I’m hoping this story will be for you too. I normally write longer forwards, but honestly, I just finished this book about five days ago, I got the edit back yesterday, and I have been up all night formatting and getting the story ready for release.

I’m exhausted, and I’m excited, hoping readers enjoy Trav’s new story as much or more than the first book. Readers who have read a number of my books know that this section of the foreword is created fresh for each book, and is always written from the heart. I want to thank everyone for giving my books a chance, who enjoy the worlds I create, and who leave reviews.

Whether you’re buying an ebook, an audio book, a print book, or reading on Kindle Unlimited, you’re helping me pay the bills, and I’m eternally grateful.

***

For everyone who enjoys this book and the VeilVerse in general, you have William D. Arand to thank.

Will and I go back a ways.  We started writing at around the same time, but he beat me to publishing.  In fact, I read his books (Otherlife) before I had published anything yet.  We have very different styles, and even approach writing itself from different directions, but our friendship has really been based on a mutual love for writing and literature from the get-go.

A while ago, Will Arand approached me with an idea for a shared universe.  As far as I know, nothing like the VeilVerse has been done before, especially by indies.  There have been other collaborative universes, like Star Wars EU, Dragonlance, and Michael Anderle’s large library of work.  But as far as I know, two authors have never created a new universe from scratch and then proceeded to write /separate/ books in it right off the bat.

This is an exciting time to be a writer, and I feel honored to have been part of this project.

The cool thing about the VeilVerse universe is how readers can simultaneously read the adventures of two very different cousins, marooned in two different worlds.  Furthermore, other writers may join us in the future with tales of their own veils. As of updating this Foreword, a new author (John Van Stry) has joined the Veilverse with his book, Take Two!

Please remember to leave a review, even if you only post a few words. Every little bit helps!

***

I really had a lot of fun writing this book. If you’d like to visit my website, the URL is http://blaise-corvin.com/

I also have a writer’s note in the back of the book with a whole mess of links.

If you’d like to connect with me on Patreon, the link is http://www.patreon.com/BlaiseCorvin.

My reader group on FB is at http://www.facebook.com/groups/BlaiseCorvinBooks/.

I hope you enjoy your time on Asgard with Trav!

The Veilverse Universe is owned by Blaise Corvin (that’s me!) and William D. Arand.

Asgard Awakening follows the adventures of Travis Sterling. To read about his cousin Ash, please check out William’s series, Cultivating Chaos!

Cultivating Chaos

Another talented author, John Van Stry has written in the Veilverse as well!

Take Two

The Veilverse will continue to expand with more great authors and fun stories in the future!

Chapter 1

He was no longer a slave, but old habits die hard.  Travis Sterling actually felt more comfortable, safer now, while he was enveloped in shadow.  Of course, while he’d been a prisoner of the Kin, working in the mines, he’d had no meaningful way to defend himself.  Guile had been a fact of life, a way to survive.

But now Trav was armed with the most potent weapon of all—knowledge.  The spear he was using as a walking staff definitely helped to settle his nerves, though.  His unnatural eye burned crimson under his patch as he cautiously explored the tunnel that led to the Oracle.

He’d only had ten days since meeting with Tiffany, bearer of the mantle of the goddess Zorya, and learning about the Oracle in the first place before getting this chance to visit with it.  At first he’d been concerned that the radical defenders of the place, the Faithful, would even let him go, but as a “High Master,”  the religious Kin treated him much differently than he’d encountered everywhere else so far.

In Faith, he was respected, even revered.  And while another of the Restless had wanted to take his spot, to visit the Oracle instead of him, Trav had been able to put that nuisance to rest quickly.

The rest of his time up until now had been spent in research and deep thought.

In town, the Faithful had actually kept a respectable library.  Of course, not many residents could read any of the ancient scrolls and texts kept in the very back, but Trav had the advantage of Odin’s knowledge.  Remembering anything about the god’s former life was still difficult, but reading new languages was turning out to be a cinch.

The huge, thick doors of the Oracle’s chamber loomed before him, and Trav stopped to study them, reading the runes. He was still dressed the same as he had been when he’d first come to this area almost two weeks ago, but now with new, more presentable clothing.  He had to admit that the rest over the last week in particular had been refreshing, even if his mind had been going to some dark places, and he still wasn’t sure what the hell to do about Tiffany Erben.

That line of thought would have to wait, though.  The goddess would still be in town after he was done here.  This task at hand was likely incredibly important, a matter of life or death.  He had so many questions about his future, about Asgard, and about himself.

Now that he was here, he could see the line of runes to open the door, plain as day.  His instructions on how to enter the place had actually been slightly incorrect, and he touched one extra rune on the other side of the doorway.  The huge slabs of metal swung open silently, and Trav stepped through.

After that, he traveled through a long, unremarkable tunnel that sloped gently downward until he came to another door.  This one had similarly carved runes as the last one, and like before, he touched a slightly different set than he’d been instructed in Faith.  The magical circuit to open the door was the same either way, but his method had been more “correct.”

He moved down one last hallway after this door, this one with an actual floor of tile.  The walls were carved, and eventually opened up into a huge chamber.  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Trav muttered.  He leaned against the rock wall, staring at a statue of a naked woman on the far side of the stony room.  Something was nagging at him, demanding caution.

The scene would not have been so eerie if not for the way the underground cavern was ringed with statues of warriors and mythical beasts, all posed like they were ready to move forward and destroy any trespassers.  Somehow, the cavern was also dimly lit without any obvious light source.

Nobody in Faith, not even Tiffany, had said that there was anything dangerous about visiting the Oracle, but Trav could tell there was more to this place than met the eye.  He activated his emberstone eye, then closely observed the flows of magic around him.  Trav gasped when he fully realized what he was seeing; every inch, every surface in sight had been covered in rune equations.

“Wow,” he breathed.  This was a major working, something that had taken someone, likely one of the Restless, a great deal of time and resources to create.  In ancient times, a few mortal mages might have been able to create something this complex, but only a handful throughout Odin’s very long life.

As he studied the complex runes, sigils, and glyphs, he ran through his questions for the Oracle.  He was still feeling somewhat clever about crafting them.  After learning more about how Tiffany had asked her questions, Trav had spent the last few days coming up with how exactly to word what he wanted to know.  He’d even come up with multiple contingency plans and extra questions in response to anything the Oracle might say.

All in all, Trav had memorized around one hundred questions.

His eyes traced the floor and the walls, running through some of the most important questions.  He mumbled, “Since bonding valkyries is not a sustainable way to keep increasing in personal, magical power, what else should I do to most significantly grow in power?

“A year from now, if I had the ability to go back in time and visit myself, what advice would I give myself?

“If it is possible to accomplish all of my highest-priority goals, including preserving my life, finding any surviving members of my family, protecting my home world, what travel should I include in my first steps of planning?”

Trav frowned, thinking about that last one.  It was a good question, at least he thought so.  As far as he could tell, it was as complex as he could make a question without the Oracle just ignoring him.  However, over the last week he’d had to admit that everything he’d done so far after escaping the mines had been to reach this point.  He wasn’t really sure what to do next.

Sure, he still burned to kill Kraachias, and to avenge Beth’s murder, but how?  When?  And what else was he going to do with himself?

He’d been feeling unsure of himself over the last week, surrounded by Kin that practically worshipped him.  Everything recently had felt surreal, and wrong.

What did he really want?

Travis wasn’t stupid.  He could see where current events were taking him, but he kept dodging any responsibility, at least trying to.  Memories of all the people dying in the mines kept coming back to him, though.

He just couldn’t figure out how he could justify killing all the Kin on Asgard to free humans, when he’d need to use Kin to do it, and he was even sleeping with a few.  Sometimes, he wondered if he’d lost his way somewhere.  And this line of thought wasn’t exactly something he could talk about with any of the Kin, not even his friend Jang-mi, and he was pretty sure she was human.

As his thoughts wandered, Trav continued to examine the magical lines and whorls around the room that all seemed to lead to the statue of the woman.  He frowned as something kept poking at the back of his mind, and his senses sharpened as he focused. “What the hell?” he wondered aloud.

The massive working seemed to be, at least in part, some sort of giant magical communication construct.  Some of it appeared to be about gathering and storing power, too, but he didn’t see anything that might explain how the Oracle had been considered so omniscient.

Trav slowly walked toward the statue, and thankfully nothing happened as he studied it.  Whoever had carved it had been incredibly talented.  He’d never seen such detail on a statue, even the little hairs on the woman’s arms were visible.  Her age was impossible to judge; she looked like the old pictures of celebrities that Trav still remembered from his life on Earth, like they lived in another world, full of glamour and mystery.

Her hips were wide, breasts large, and she looked like she was ready to leap into dance.  The statue’s pose was graceful, and reminded Trav of a ballerina.  As he continued to study the figure, he realized that nobody who’d talked to the thing had actually explained how it spoke.

Suddenly, he jumped as a line of light extended from the ceiling, temporarily blinding his organic eye.  His emberstone eye wasn’t affected, though, and actually spotted the magic in the light itself.  Trav tried to back up, but he was too late, the light had already shut off.

Then the statue’s eyes snapped open, glowing blue.

Trav’s body got chills and a current ran over his skin as something vast and alien touched him.  Part of him was shocked, but another part felt some kind of familiarity.  The feeling passed almost as quickly as it had come, and the statue’s eyes closed again.

Tingles ran all over his skin.  The buzz of magic in the room was so strong it almost made his teeth rattle.  Whatever he was experiencing, there wasn’t much he could do about it so he focused on defenses for his mind and spirit.

No attack came, though, not even another bright light.  The oppressive feeling faded, and the statue of the woman began to glow.  Nothing else changed or moved, but Trav suddenly heard a voice in his head.

“Scan complete.  Identity, Travis Sterling, inheritor of Odin’s mantle.  Would you like me to change my speech patterns to more easily communicate?”

This was definitely not what Trav had been expecting from the Oracle, and he had a feeling that this was not what people normally experienced from it.  “Do you mean me any harm?”

“No.”

“Then yes.”

“Understood.”

The statue’s eyes snapped open again, glowed brightly, and shut.  Now the voice in Trav’s mind was easier to understand as it said, “This should be better.  You got pretty lucky coming down here when you did, bucko.”

Trav blinked at that.  “Huh?”

“I’m almost out of power.  Anyway, I already know who you are, but you need to open this lock.”  The lines of a complex rune equations, blazing red and visible to the naked eye, appeared on the ground.  “Finish this, or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I blow this whole damned area.”

Trav frowned and glanced around again at the deeply embedded magic systems around him, looking for specific patterns.  His stomach dropped.  The statue was not bluffing; this entire cave had been rigged with incredible explosive power, probably on the same scale as an atomic bomb.

The investment of time and energy to create a working this extensive and powerful was something he would have never imagined.   His borrowed memories were also blank on the subject, but he figured that was probably from all the missing holes, since he had a pretty good idea of who had created this trap in the first place.

Trav stared at the red lines on the ground, and slowly drew Hex, his shiv.  The tool seemed eager in his hand, ready to work.  With deliberate care, he knelt and thought about how to complete the rune equation, an incredibly complex working for a relatively simple effect.  Now that he’d pondered out the purpose of the test, he knew why.  This room was a fail-safe.

The rune equation’s effect was to make a light, like a flare or firework, appear.  At celebrations in the past, Odin had always used the color green.  However, Trav could clearly see the way it tied into the greater working around him.

Failing to complete the equation, or making the light red, would blow the entire thing up.  Green would create a barrier to forcibly separate a soul from a body.  Only blue would disarm the trap.  With Trav’s increasingly deep insight, he could understand that the entire system had been rigged up in case Odin had been controlled, or possessed.  The green light would actually free his spirit if it’d been trapped.  Furthermore, one of the lines that would need to be drawn to complete the rune equation could be influenced by the will of someone possessed, whoever’s power was actually being channeled.

The whole thing was sort of genius, but also way over the top.  “Wow, Odin was a paranoid motherfucker,” Trav said softly.

“You don’t know the half of it,” said the Oracle.

Trav finished the rune equation, making a pretty, pulsing blue light appear that rose to the top of the cavern, eventually flowering out and sputtering as it died.  This left the omnidirectional illumination that had been present before.  “So what now?” he asked.

“Now I know that you are you.  Welcome back, Master!”

“I’m getting the feeling that all the questions I prepared to ask you before coming here aren’t necessary anymore.”  Trav sighed.

“Nope!  At least, the form of the question and the number of them don’t matter anymore.  You can ask me whatever you want.  That whole charade, giving out fortunes for the last millennium was just to make sure I’d be sought out by someone like you if you became lost.  The fact I siphoned some energy every time I did so kept me functioning this long too.”

Something suddenly occurred to Trav.  “Wait, so if you’d blown everything up, Faith, the village above us, would have been destroyed too, right?”

“Yes.”

“Man that’s cold as fuck, even if most of them are Kin.”  Trav ran a hand over his face.  “Alright, I have a lot of questions.”

“Good.  That is what I exist for.  I’m really almost out of power, so you have about ten minutes before I disappear for good.”

“Wait, what?”  Trav shook his head.  “No way, fuck that.  I did not just spend a few days writing down pointless questions and almost blow myself up for a few minutes of question and answer.”

The Oracle’s voice was curious as she asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.  Be quiet and let me think.”

“Have it your way,” said the Oracle.  “Since I only have a few minutes to live, do you mind if I watch you?”

“No, go ahead.”

After a cracking sound, the entire statue split in two, both sides rumbling several inches apart.  On the ground below, a translucent, two-foot-tall, blue, glowing woman appeared.  She looked like the statue, stark naked but wore a winged helmet, and she carried a scepter in one hand.  She calmly walked to a rock, climbed on top before sitting cross-legged, and rested her chin in her hands with an attentive expression.

Trav stared for a few seconds before he snapped himself out of it.  He was tempted to give up on taking any action and just ask the Oracle questions, but he had a feeling that if he let her die after a handful of questions, he’d be shooting himself in the foot.  He only had ten minutes, but he also had access to a massive amount of knowledge through Odin’s memories.  What’s more, he had a feeling this chamber had been constructed long before the old god had finally died.  Hopefully he’d learned some new tricks.

Even after experiencing things like accepting the mantle of a dead god or being attacked by a horny harpy, this was possibly the strangest situation he’d experienced on Asgard so far.

Trav mentally rolled up his sleeves and began combing through his memories while he carefully studied the rune equations around him, especially near the statue, and how they reacted around the Oracle’s little glowing manifestation on the rock.  Suddenly, it occurred to him that he could probably ask her a few questions while he worked.

“I am going to ask you some questions while I think about the problem,” he said.

The Oracle nodded her little glowing head.  “I was wondering when you were going to realize this would be your best course of action.”

“Everyone is a critic,” Trav grumbled.

Chapter 2

Trav furrowed his brow in concentration, furiously sifting through eons of information.  He didn’t expect that Odin would have come across a situation exactly like this before, and he figured finding a specific memory would be tough even if he had.  Instead, he was searching for tools, techniques.

This was going to be a jury-rig operation, like using duct tape to fix an airplane.  “How much time do I have left?” he asked. Trav figured it’d only been a moment, but he didn’t want to lose track.

The little glowing figure of the Oracle didn’t say anything out loud, just flicked a hand, causing a red, numerical countdown to appear on the ground.  9:49. 9:47.  She didn’t even glance at the countdown; all of her attention was focused on him.

“Thanks,” muttered Trav.  “So what exactly are you?”

“The details are secret, I am under geas not to volunteer how I came to be, but you created me, so you can likely figure it out.  The piece you might be missing is that you visited Yggdrasil as preparation before creating me.  If you can tell me my true name, I can say more.  It’s fairly obvious that you have holes in your memory, young Allfather.”

“Yggdrasil,” Trav said out loud, and his thoughts flashed like he’d been struck by lightning.  A floodgate of memories poured through his subconscious, far too fast to grasp any of them individually, but a word did slip through.  “Valdis,” he said slowly.

“Yes, that was my name,” said the Oracle, smiling sadly.  “Now, this is what I am.”  She gestured at her small, glowing form.  “And I am going to run out of power in nine minutes.”

The flash flood of memories slowed, and he was able to grasp the ones with “Valdis” attached.  In the back of his mind, he continued to run through his vast rune knowledge, trying to find a way to save the Oracle.  There were some perks to not being entirely human anymore.

As he observed the room further, he could see what the problem was.  “You were never meant to live this long.”

“Indeed.  I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come back, at least up until about five hundred years ago, give or take.  That was when I became aware of this meeting’s possibility.  In hindsight, it is somewhat fitting that you were fated to arrive at this critical juncture.”

“I don’t really believe in fate,” muttered Trav.  He’d shifted most of his mental effort on combing through his spell knowledge.  As the words came out of his mouth, he began to remember more about the Oracle, the information slowly focusing.

“That is a strange stance to take now, all things considered.”  The Oracle sounded amused, but there was something else in her tone, too.  Something less than friendly.

In that moment, Trav understood.  The memories crystallized and he knew who Valdis was, and some of what he, Odin, had done to her.  He still didn’t know all the details, but there had been a debt, and Valdis had been a seer.  Odin had cashed the debt by taking her life and changing it, reforming it.

Now he knew what this room was, and everything that the Oracle represented.  A breath caught in his throat as he also recalled Yggdrasil, the world tree.  Trav haltingly spoke out loud, “The world tree is a real thing, and is metaphysically connected to many of the veils, if not all of them.  I, uh, Odin recognized the potential, and somehow attached something to sync with it.  Then he transformed you into an interface using huge amounts of magical resources and high tech, all daisy chained together over several worlds, tied together with magic.”

“More or less, yes,” said the Oracle.

Trav shook his head.  “You are the most sophisticated espionage tool ever created.  How in the hell were you not elevated to some sort of divinity?  Most of the Restless can’t even come close to even...approaching this.”

“I don’t know what I am now, Master,” said the Oracle sadly.  “What I am about to be is dead.”

“Not if I can help it,” grumbled Trav.  The Oracle was far too powerful a tool or ally to let slip through his fingers.  He kept focusing on the magical problem, and felt like he might have a glimmer of a solution.  To keep the other half of his mind moving so he could think more clearly, he asked, “So Oracle, what is my best move now?”

“Are you asking about what to have for dinner, or—”

Trav cocked an eyebrow.  “Still playing these types of games even before you’re about to die, huh?  Fine.  Tell you what, I want you to figure out what I’m thinking right now and answer the question based on that.”  Then Trav very clearly thought about how he was looking for information about his best plan of action on Asgard, to keep himself and his household alive, to find his missing family, to help the human slaves on Asgard, and to figure out what he wanted, who he was.  That last part was added on the fly.  He also very clearly sent a compliment about the Oracle’s beauty, just in case it might help.

Based on what he knew about the Oracle, she couldn’t read minds per se, but she could basically...read reality, so this should be easy for her.

She crossed her arms and said, “Thinking about my appearance won’t help at all.  I don’t have a real body anymore, and we were briefly lovers before you made me into what I am now.”

“Oh.”  Trav made a face.  “That wasn’t me, that was the other guy.”

“Just so.  The rest is actually a very complicated question.  I am thinking.”

“Got it.”  Trav took the sudden silence to tackle the magical problem in front of him with his full concentration.  Now that he knew what the Oracle was, he could appreciate the sheer amount of information and processing she was currently doing.  When she’d first been made, his predecessor had called in a favor from the Norns.  Well, actually it had been more of a blackmail, strongarm thing.  The Norns hadn’t had much choice but to lend a hand.

It seemed Odin really had been a dick, but he’d created something amazing.  In fact, now that Trav was aware of the Oracle’s real power, he wondered how the old god could have possibly been murdered, especially considering how paranoid he’d been.  He even voiced the question out loud.  “How did Odin get murdered with you to tell him the past, present, and future?”

The Oracle cocked an eyebrow.  “Master, I am still thinking.  This could be an interruption.”

“And you are the most powerful supercomputer ever made, I’ll bet.  You can think about two things at once, especially if one is as simple as this.”

“Point,” the Oracle admitted.  “The answer is very simple.  Odin was prideful and stubborn, and it takes me time to build enough power to be functional, something like a capacitor.  In order to make full use of my abilities, I need to be asked specific questions.”

“I see.”  He nodded.  With that information, several series of events became possible.  “So that is why you only let people in here once a year, even though you were drawing energy.  It was all a balancing act.”

“Yes.  Ah, the computation is done.  I have your answer.”

“Hit me.”

“The answer is actually simple.  Your fate is closely tied with your valkyries now.  All the paths leading to your best fates involve supporting them.  Also, you will be served well to accept Tiffany Erben into your household.  She is not the most powerful partner you will ever meet, or the most beautiful, or any number of other criteria, but having her at your side will prevent a number of negative futures I have foreseen.”

“Like what?  Actually, which of them should I help first?”  Off the top of his head, he could remember a number of problems that his new Kin lovers had.

The Oracle shook her head.  “No, Master.  That was all the power I had for now.”

Trav blinked.  “Bullshit.  You usually answer a handful of questions.”

“This was a conversation, not merely answering questions, and I am dying.”

“Again, bullshit.  When you die, you’ll die, but you could still do more thinking before death.    I know this because I remember you being made now.”

The Oracle gave him a flat look.  “As you said, that was the other guy.”

“Ah.  So this is a shakedown then?”

“You haven’t saved my life yet, Master,” she said, emphasizing the last word.

“Fine, fine, fine.  Let me think.”  Trav glanced down at the countdown on the floor and saw it read just over three more minutes.  He slowly tapped Hex against his wrist, wondering where in the hell he was going to get a power source big enough to keep the Oracle alive, maybe plug her into something.  He couldn’t exactly use himself, he was weak.  Sure, now he was stronger than the average Kin, but compared to an original Restless, much less Odin, he was still an ant.

No, this problem couldn’t be solved with raw power, he needed a clever solution, and without pulling a miracle out of his ass, he wasn’t going to get anything else out of the Oracle.  He really could remember some of the most outlandish things that Odin had done to create her.  In some ways, the Oracle was a god made from the knowledge of Odin and the blood of a seer, all tied into the Yggdrasil, and…

Trav’s train of thought skipped.  “Knowledge of Odin,” he whispered.  “Energy of Odin.”  He tapped his forehead with Hex, slightly adjusting his emberstone eye and found what he was looking for, a tiny line of power connecting him and the Oracle.  She still had traces of Odin’s power, the same wavelength as the mantle that Trav had inherited.

Maybe, he didn’t need to plug the Oracle into a completely new power source.  She actually had her own power source, she was just burning more power than she was creating by merely existing right now, and her reserves were gone.  So what if instead of trying to do the impossible, he just did something to keep her alive, like a coal for a fire, while she naturally regained her energy?

“I think this can work,” said Trav.  The timer on the floor read just under two minutes now.

“You have a solution?” asked the Oracle.  She didn’t sound optimistic.

“Actually, yes,” said Trav.  He walked over to one of the dozen or so “hearts” of the major working on the floor, like knots that all the other magical logic tied into.  This one gave access to the actual Oracle, where her “body” was, attaching it to all the rune equations around it.  The cave was merely a projection, a means to communicate.

“What are you doing?” This time the Oracle’s voice had a note of alarm.

“Would you rather I talk about it, or do it?” asked Trav, voice terse.

The glowing figure of the Oracle raised a finger, but lowered it, and said, “Do what you will.”

“Thought so.”  Trav knelt and made a few new lines in the complex rune equation, but didn’t connect the new logic.  Instead, he bared his chest and with an effort of will, he heated the tip of Hex red hot before slowly, painfully carving a sigil into his shoulder.  Then he connected the anchor he’d just made to the floor with a line of magic before finishing what he’d been drawing.

The next bit required a lot of quick, precise work, so Trav concentrated on it with everything he had.  The ring of tiny rune equations he placed around his new work on the floor was both to alter the major working, and to describe how it should link with his new interface.  He could have done this part carved directly into his body instead of on the floor, and it would have been a bit simpler, but that hadn’t been a serious option.

When he was finally done, there was only fourteen seconds left on the clock.  “Only one more thing to do,” he said.

“Please do it quickly.”

Trav nodded, pricked his finger, and let a fat drop of blood well up.  Then he carefully, and very deliberately let it fall right in the center of the new, small but complex rune equation he’d created.

The change was immediate, and it was like he suddenly grew a bit tired, while also feeling more...full.  On the floor, the countdown hit zero.  The Oracle didn’t disappear, though.  Instead, she began to fade, and her eyes opened wide.  “What did you do?”

“You’ll see in about a minute.”

Sure enough, a short while after the Oracle’s glowing form faded from view, Trav heard her voice directly in his mind.  “What is going on?”

Trav spoke out loud.  “I didn’t have any power sources to work with other than myself, and if I’d hooked you directly to me, I would have either immediately been sucked dry of energy and I would have died, or I would have exploded and I would have died.  Me dying would have been bad for both of us.  So instead, I’m keeping your spark alive while the rest of you regains enough power for you to be safe for another few hundred years.  I figure it will take a few years to reach that point.”

“I see.”

Trav didn’t hear anything further for a while, and in his magical sight, the massive working in the cave began to dim, but didn’t disappear.  After a couple of minutes, Trav saw text appear across his vision.

<Thank you.  This was clever.  I plan to conserve as much power as possible but I will be available from time to time if you need me.  I can provide a passive information feed.>

“Sound good,” said Trav.

<Would you like me to begin organizing and defragmenting your inherited memories?>

“Yes,” said Trav.  Then he nodded and began walking back the way he’d come.  It was time to leave the cave and head back to Faith.  He hadn’t gotten all of the answers he’d wanted from the Oracle, but now he had a much better idea of what sorts of plans to make.  He’d also acquired a very powerful tool, especially if he could survive long enough for the Oracle to regain her old power.

Chapter 3

Trav returned to Bruman, the Faithful settlement, and ignored the bowing and scraping of the Kin working as guards and patrolling the area.  They didn’t all show respect in the same way, but all of them acknowledged him.  It still felt a little weird, just like the dual name for the settlement.

At first, Trav had thought it was a little strange that the Restless-worshipping Kin usually called the town Faith, not Bruman.  He’d come to learn that each of the three major Kin countries on Asgard had a hidden village of Faithful, and most of them called their home, “Faith.”  The theory behind this seemed to be that if someone overheard them talking about their home, it was less likely that news would spread where all the Faithful cultists were living.  Trav thought the practice was a little odd, at least to an outsider, but so would be wearing giant foam hands to football games, and he’d done that before.

When he’d first met Narnaste, she’d told him about the Church of Self, and he’d learned more about it since then.  From Trav’s perspective, the Church was the true power on Asgard, and the only reason they likely hadn’t completely crushed the Faithful was so they could have a scapegoat to blame practically everything on.  In Bruman, the guards had been on high alert for months after someone believed they’d seen sign of scouts about half a year ago.

If Bruman was attacked, the Faithful vowed to be prepared, especially now that they were hosting three High Masters.  Along with Tiffany and the Restless with the mantle of Thanatos, since Trav was also a Restless, what the Faithful called High Masters, he couldn’t fault their wariness.  Being revered didn’t bother him, either—he’d gotten used to being called Master and other titles while traveling with his valkyries.  But the way the Faithful leaders in Bruman tried to coddle him, and avoid informing him of any dangers or new developments drove him crazy.

It was pretty obvious at this point that the Faithful wanted him to just stay in the village indefinitely.  That might be okay for lazy hedonists like Thomas, the guy with the mantle of Thanatos.  Eventually, Trav was going to need to leave, but for the time being, he planned to put in appearances and keep the Faithful happy to maintain access to knowledge and free food.

He sighed and headed for the house he shared with his valkyries.  It wasn’t going to be fun to deliver the news he needed to, but he owed it to them to tell them at least some of what he was planning.  After that, he was going to go alone to talk to Tiffany, and that conversation might be even worse.

***

This has been a very long day, thought Trav.  He was almost to the house where Tiffany lived, and he hoped she was home.  Narnaste plodded along behind him.  If he didn’t already know she was irritated, he would have been able to tell by her swishing tail and twitching ears.

Over the last week, before visiting the Oracle, he and his valkyries had discussed Tiffany’s marriage proposal.  At this point, he was sure he could trust all of them so he didn’t hold much information back anymore.  The only one of his new friends who hadn’t been against the idea had been Jang-mi, who wasn’t a valkyrie and was just a platonic friend, not a lover.  All the Kin seemed to either distrust or outright dislike Tiffany.

Thinking back to how they’d all first met, and how Tiffany had used her mantle to cow them, Trav could understand.  That had probably been humiliating and uncomfortable for the Kin women, and Ysintrill.  Despite the fact that she was not Kin, Trav still thought of her that way most of the time.

When he’d just dropped by to tell them he was going to talk to Tiffany, most of them had acted like he hadn’t said anything, immediately giving him the silent treatment.  Of course they’d all been waiting for him to get back from the Oracle, which he’d had to do alone.  They’d been together, excited to hear any news he had to give, which had kind of made things even more awkward.  Thinking back, he’d kind of made the situation worse by leading with his decision, too.  Yaakova had stomped off best as she could with her taloned feet.

The valkyries weren’t stupid, they had to know that he was going to talk to Tiffany because of something the Oracle had said.  Narnaste hadn’t been happy either, but had still followed Trav out the door and through Faith.  Other than his trip to the Oracle’s cave, one of the valkyries had accompanied him everywhere in town for the last two weeks.  Besides that, his group had kept to themselves in the large house that Trav had been given to stay in.

He suspected the valkyries felt uncomfortable being called Honored Ones by the other Kin, even Narnaste.  She’d even known some of the Kin in town, but she’d confided that they all treated her like a stranger now.

Trav glanced back at Narnaste and waved her up to walk with him.  He needed to talk to his valkyrie, and he also needed to be busy so the town’s Faithful would leave him alone.  Most of them seemed harmless, merely wanting to meet him themselves.  Some seemed to be going through a crisis of faith.  The gods they’d met in person had obviously been a little disappointing for some of them.  Trav thought it was all a little weird, but also kind of funny.  He could remember some idioms from Earth about meeting your gods or heroes that might apply.

“Yes, Master?” asked Narnaste.

Trav eyed her sideways.  “What is the problem, Narnaste?”

“What do you mean, Master?”

“Well, it’s obvious that you and the others are upset.  Plus, you keep calling me master every few seconds.”

“Sorry, Master.”

Trav sighed.  “Seriously, Narn, I know I’ve talked with everyone about Tiffany before, but I don’t understand this reaction.  Nothing has even happened yet.  Plus, in the past, like when Ysintrill joined us, you didn’t have a problem with that.  Why would there be an issue with me marrying another Restless?  It’s not like I even know Tiffany very well, this would be political more than anything, at least for starters.”

“That’s exactly the point.”  Narnaste met his gaze with her beautiful, different-colored eyes.  “You don’t know this woman very well, and neither do we.  When Trill joined us, we all...got drunk, remember?”  She paused, and Trav briefly remembered the emberstone-fueled party in the woods they’d all had.

Narnaste continued, “There was never any awkwardness.  It just happened, and we were all equal.  Tiffany Erben is a High Master, like you.  Even though she isn’t very old, she still did that thing when we first met, remember?  I felt like I was being put down, like I was very small.  Even now, it’s hard to explain.  It was humiliating.”

Trav made a face as he thought about that.  He hadn’t entirely considered that situation from the perspective of the Kin.  During their first meeting with Tiffany, his valkyries had been less than friendly, and Yaakova had been the worst.  Tiffany had used her mantle somehow to suppress them.

So instead of jealousy, this seemed to mostly be about power and pride.  Now Trav understood better.  The valkyries were not really his girlfriends, and they weren’t human, either.  They were Kin, and his subordinates.  Nothing about his life now was normal.  If he was correct, he would live to be thousands of years old, and his valkyries likely would as well.  He’d been thinking of his current group far too simply.  While he was worried about survival, his valkyries had already moved far beyond that and were hashing out group hierarchy.

Mom was right, sometimes I can be slow, he thought.  Trav asked, “If I ever did marry her, or any other Restless, what if I made them promise that they would never mistreat you?”

“You mean a High Master promise? A covenant?”

“Yes, a binding one.”  Trav still wasn’t entirely sure how, but he knew he could do it with rune magic.

Narnaste was quiet for a while as she walked next to Trav, but her ears twitched even more wildly.  Finally she said, “We still won’t be happy about it, but this is more acceptable.  I know enough about your homeland to understand that this is all much stranger to you than it is to us.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Trav muttered.

“You haven’t really even thought about it like this until now have you?”

“Nope,” Trav said honestly.

Narnaste nodded slowly.  “As ignorant as you have been perhaps we have as well.  I was raised noble, so was Yaakova, and Ysintrill is old enough to understand the way of the world.  You got lucky, Master.  For our own reasons, we are not exactly happy if you add more women to your household, but we three know it is a reality.  Important Kin men rarely keep a single partner.  Males are all the same, and man Kin are long-lived.”

Trav could see where this conversation was going.  He nodded and said honestly, “Most men would jump at the chance to have more than one lover and not be doing anything wrong.  But it’s expensive and takes a lot of time to keep everyone happy.  It takes a lot of energy too.”

Narnaste nodded.  “Yes.  You might not have thought of children, either.  Families grow.  My childhood was spent with a tutor.  I was one of ten children and had three mothers.  My father had a concubine as well.  I rarely saw my parents. My family was not very wealthy, at least not enough to avoid sacrifices to maintain appearances. Please never grow your house taller than its foundation can support.”

Trav eyed Narnaste, studying her stony expression.  Now a lot of things about her made more sense, maybe even the extreme sides of her personality, how she could go from sweet and gentle to stony and stern in a blink.  He wondered if her background had led to her physical scars, too, but that conversation could wait.

In fact, any more conversation would have to wait; they’d arrived at Tiffany’s house.

Trav knocked and didn’t have long to wait before the door was opened and he was greeted with a deadpan, “Yes?”

“Good to see you too, Leonard,” said Trav.  He still couldn’t figure the man out.  The tall, pale man wore expensive-looking, formal clothing and carried a rapier.  It looked like he’d begun growing a mustache.  Other than that, he was entirely unremarkable.  Even Trav’s Mystic Overlay using his emberstone eye hadn’t given him much information.

Suddenly Trav saw writing at the bottom of his vision.

<Leonard T’Zlesteur>

<High Priest of Tiffany Zorya Erben>

<Background in espionage, business, and counter intelligence>

<Master-level animation mage>

<Skilled duelist>

Why can’t I see this kind of information about everyone? thought Trav.

The Oracle sent back, <It would overwhelm you and I don’t have power to spare unless your life is in danger.  I will help when I can, due to loyalty and because I am relying on you right now.  I will use my best judgement to help when it is necessary.  This arrangement is working for both of us.>

Trav mentally rolled his eyes.

Leonard said, “I am assuming you have come to talk to the lady of the house?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly come to challenge you to a board game or a staring contest, Leonard.”

“I see.”  Trav might have imagined it, but he thought he saw a shadow of a smile quirk the side of the man’s mouth.  “Follow me, please.  Her Holiness is occupied right now, but I am sure she would want to make time to speak to you.”

“Holiness, huh?” muttered Trav.  The sarcastic priest had never referred to Trav as anything, never addressed him by name, title, or anything else.  He stepped inside as Leonard opened the door wider then followed him deeper into the house.

The fact that he knew Leonard was a priest was actually very useful.  He hadn’t really spoken much to Tiffany since he’d arrived in Faith other than small talk over dinner, or brief, private conversations about what she’d revealed to him when they’d first met.

He knew she could be ruthless, manipulative, and he wasn’t sure if he could entirely trust her.  She was also very scared, and had obviously been giving him space, whether out of respect or nervousness he didn’t know—maybe both.

Trav really hoped he was doing the right thing.  The fact was, maybe the valkyries were right to be nervous.  Tiffany Erben was not a simple person, and likely hadn’t been even before she’d become a goddess.

Chapter 4

Leonard led them past the two feline Kin that had accompanied Tiffany before.  Trav assumed they were bodyguards, and the Oracle didn’t give him any more information, so he assumed either he was right or they were not all that important.  At the end of a hallway, a lizardman holding a halberd guarded a large, thick-looking set of double doors.  Trav eyed the creature. Lizardmen were very powerful, and what they lacked in speed they made up for in durability. Before becoming Odin’s successor, the creature would have been impossible for Trav to scratch, but now things were different.

The lizardman hissed, but Leonard shook his head.  As the guard reluctantly stepped aside, Leonard put his finger to his lips for quiet before turning to open one door a crack and slip inside.  A few uncomfortable moments passed before the door opened again and Leonard beckoned them forward.

The room beyond was large, mostly empty, and dark.  Tiffany Erben sat cross-legged in the center, floating about three feet above the floor.

“I let her know that we had guests,” whispered Leonard.  “She will be back in a few moments, but she told me I could invite you inside.”

Trav nodded and studied the goddess with his Mystic Overlay.  To his magical sight, it looked like she was there, but not there.  In fact, what he was seeing, her body, was only a small part of the whole.  Interesting, he thought.

It almost looked like she was stretched out, like most of her power was connected to her body by a rubber band, and even as Trav watched, it suddenly snapped back into place, and she was whole again.  Tiffany opened her eyes, her expression blank and alien for a moment before she smiled.  “Welcome to my home, and my scrying room.”

“Scrying room?”  The question wasn’t just to be polite.  Trav was legitimately curious what she’d been doing.

“Yes.  My mantle belonged to Zorya.  I can grow my power and center myself by returning to the stars.  It’s important to understand the will of the goddess I inherited too, both to know how to gain more ability, and to keep track of who I am.  One day I will likely be called Zorya, just as you might one day be called Odin.”

Trav felt like he’d been hit with a hammer.  “What?”  He knew all about the goddess Zorya by now.  Two weeks had passed and he’d done his homework.  The implications of the rest of what he’d just heard had thrown him, though.

Tiffany pulled her head back slightly as she regarded him evenly.  “You have received a seed of power from one of the most powerful Restless to ever walk the continuum.  Did you think you could just wander around and nobody would care, they wouldn’t notice?”

“Well, no, but I really only thought about enemies out there.  I hadn’t thought of, you know, other people,” Trav finished lamely.

The goddess blinked.  “You do know how Restless gain power, right?”  She glanced around the room.  “All of my attendants are loyal, I am assuming yours is as well.”  She made the last statement sound like a question as she glanced at Narnaste.

“Of course,” said Trav.  His mind was spinning.  He’d connected with his valkyries in order to gain power over a short time, but he’d never really thought about how growing in power worked for other Restless.  This was a massive oversight, but he gave himself a pass based on how his life had been going lately.  “Please continue.”  He’d come here thinking he had a strong platform to negotiate, but now Tiffany was dropping information he hadn’t even considered before.

“Faith, Travis.  I believe there might be an element of that between you and your valkyries, if I am correct about what I’m sensing.  There are diminishing returns for the number, but we gain a charge from loyalty.  Mortals just knowing who we are doesn’t do much, but commanding loyalty is what allows us to function, even keeps us whole as we cross to other veils.  This is our immutable power that stands above lesser magics or energy systems.”

“Loyalty?” asked Trav, turning the idea over in his mind.

“Yes.  This is why so many Restless have begun their own religions or cults.  Loyalty through religion can be fickle, but also relatively easy to achieve for large numbers.”

“Makes sense I guess,” said Trav.  He scratched his cheek.  “So your people here are…”  He let his voice trail off.

“I brought two attendants from my home world, and found two more after arriving in Faith.  There are a few more I left back home, too.  My mission is to save my world, and to survive, but I will admit that succeeding will greatly benefit my power as well.”

Trav nodded slowly.  It seemed this was going to be a lay-all-your-cards-on-the-table sort of conversation, so he decided to follow suit.  “I came to talk to you about marriage.”

“Oh?”  Tiffany lifted an eyebrow, but quickly dropped the coy expression with a sigh.  “Sorry, bad habit.  To be honest, I was hoping that you came to talk about marriage.  Time is our enemy, but I wanted to give you the room you needed to think about the matter before.”

That made sense to Trav—she was trying to save her world.  He asked, “What is your world’s name?”

“Vyraj, but we all actually live in the city state Buyan.  Vyraj actually has a lot of portal activity, and it was decided that the world itself was a park, protected.  Buyan was built on its moon.”

“So it’s your city state that is in danger?”

“Yes.  The auguries are very clear.”

To Trav, the situation made a lot more sense now.  He could far more easily imagine a powerful Restless destroying a moon or satellite than an entire planet, even with an army.  “Well, we’d better cut to the chase, then.  I did come here to talk to you about marriage, but I have some conditions.”

“List them.”  Tiffany had taken a couple of folding chairs from the corner of the room and opened them.  She sat and gestured to the other for Trav.

As he took a seat, he felt much more settled.  The entire situation was odd, and he hadn’t been sure what to expect while talking about marriage with a stranger, but Tiffany’s business-like manner was helping.  “I want you to promise that you will support my family, my subordinates, and never betray me.

“Done.”  Tiffany didn’t even blink as she answered.  “I don’t really have much of a choice, Travis Sterling.  You will get any assurances from me that you want—within reason, of course.”

“Maybe you don’t understand.”  Travis shook his head.  “I want to use rune magic, something binding.”

“Oh.  Well, that doesn’t really change anything, but it is…”  Tiffany trailed off.  “Alright, I can see why you’d want to do this, especially with what I told you about how Odin died, but I want something in return.”

“What?”

Tiffany scratched her arm and adjusted a bracelet, looking like she was searching for words.  Finally she said, “I want you to come with me to the stars, to my domain, to help announce our union.  If we do this, it will actually increase my power, and help deepen my understanding of my mantle.”

“What will I get out of that?” asked Trav.

“Maybe nothing.  But I think our power will increase together, or at least benefit each other.  Also, consider that I’m not getting anything out of letting you rune-bind me, either.  I think with this deal, we are both still coming out ahead.”

“Pretty risky to haggle, right?  You have a lot more at stake than I do,” said Trav.  He saw no point in sugar coating it.

Tiffany was completely unfazed.  “Do I have more at stake, at least personally?  We’re both Restless.  This benefits us both, and neither of us is exactly swimming in power or resources yet.”  She met his eyes squarely.  “I am not weak, Trav.  If I was, you wouldn’t even be considering this.  I know you are formidable too, and I really don’t want to waste time with back and forth.  This is a fair trade, and I believe you know this.  Let’s not drag this out.”  The initial terror that Trav had seen when he’d met her was still there, but now the core of steel underneath was clearly visible.

On top of that, the new goddess was doing something to project her power at Trav, making herself vulnerable, allowing him access to her surface thoughts.  Trav hadn’t even known such a thing was possible, and with his emberstone eye, he could see it had something to do with Restless auras.  She was being entirely sincere, at least about her intentions with marriage.

Behind him, Narnaste breathed, “Truth.”

“I know,” muttered Trav.  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Alright, I don’t like screwing around either.”

Tiffany stood and after Trav had done so as well, she said, “Alright, in front of these witnesses, let us clearly state our terms.  With your agreement, I will start.”  After Trav nodded, Tiffany announced, “I, Tiffany Erben, inheritor of Zorya’s mantle, intend to marry this man, Travis Sterling, inheritor of Odin’s mantle.  My agreement is that, if I agree to his rune-binding terms, after he enacts them, we will be married.  Then, he will go with me, travel to the stars to announce our union.  Do you agree to this, Travis Sterling?”

Trav could feel the air change, and knew there was some sort of magical significance to her words, but his mystic vision wasn’t showing him anything out of the ordinary other than a few motes of magic dancing through the room.  He took his time, thinking about what he wanted to say, then clearly replied, “I agree, as long as you agree to the terms of my rune-binding.”

He thought he could see a small smile and a flash of approval in Tiffany’s eyes as she said, “Continue.”

“The rune-binding will compel you to always act in our best interests as a couple.  In a life-threatening crisis, or in wartime, you may prioritize your own safety, but must also work for the benefit of myself and my subordinates.  My valkyries will be considered part of our household, and our household will be something you agree to protect.  You will agree to not make major decisions that affect our household or our mantles without consulting me, and you will never engage in violence or direct physical confrontation with me except in self-defense.  Power you receive will be offered to be shared with me if possible.”

Trav had been tempted to add more to the list, but knew he had already been pushing it as-is.  However, he believed he’d kept it more or less fair, especially based on the relative strengths of the Restless their mantles had come from.  Tiffany narrowed her eyes as she stared at him, likely running his words through her mind again, and slowly nodded.  “Agreed.  Our bargain is struck.  Do you need any special tools or items to create the rune-binding?”

“No.  Where should I make it, though?”

“In this room is fine.”

Trav nodded, and moved forward to begin burning sigils, glyphs, and runes directly into the floor.  He deliberately did not look at Narnaste while he did so.  Her presence was clear and he knew exactly where she stood at all times through their bond, he would just need to look up.  He didn’t, though. Dealing with his valkyries later, all together would be better.

As he used Hex to carve runes into the floor, he thought back to how he’d met Narnaste and how despite being Kin, he owed her his life.  He finally glanced up and saw Narnaste studying him with an unreadable expression.  They hadn’t known each other that long, not in the grand scheme of things, but Trav had been through a lot with her.  The fact that he might know this canine woman for the rest of his life, thousands of years, was just starting to sink in.  He cocked an eyebrow.

Narnaste took a second before responding with a tiny shrug.

Trav went back to his work, and his heart felt lighter.  He wasn’t sure why, but he was grateful nonetheless.

It took about thirty minutes to create the intricate rune circle, acting as much by instinct as the knowledge packed away in his head.  After he was finished, he slowly examined the entire thing and nodded.  This had been a good piece of work.

When he glanced up this time, he finally saw the varying degrees of shock and bewilderment on everyone’s faces.  “What?”

“I have never seen a magical construct of this complexity in any kind of power system, on any world,” said Leonard.

“How does this thing work?” asked Tiffany.

“Once we both drop our blood on it, in the two areas there, and there,” Trav said, pointing, “we touch each other and will the circle to close.  After that, our mantles will power the thing, and our agreement will be enforced.”

“But you don’t have any rune-bound promises aimed at yourself, right?”

“Well, not really, no.”

She nodded.  “So if I break any of these promises, what happens?”

“Your mantle will lose its power and actively work against you.  Any power you try to use will drain away, and you will grow sick and eventually perish.”

“How will I know if I’ve broken the covenant, on purpose or on accident?”

Trav answered, “You will feel sick, and sicker as you keep breaking the promises.  It will be painful, extremely painful.  Like most magic, it’s based on intent, but with a few objective ways to trigger the system worked into the rune equation so there isn’t a way to get around it.”

Tiffany smiled.  “This is well crafted.  And you swear on your existence as Restless and on your name and on your mantle that this construct will do no more, and no less than the exact words I agreed to before?”

“Yes,” answered Travis.

“Truth,” said Leonard, and Narnaste gave the priest a surprised look.

Travis chuckled.  It seemed he was not the only person capable of being careful.

Tiffany curtly nodded, walked to the spot Trav had pointed to earlier and cut her hand with a knife she’d pulled from somewhere. “Here?” she asked.

After Trav nodded, she let her blood drip onto the appropriate spot.  Then Trav did the same, and moved to the center of the rune circle.  Tiffany joined him, and as they held hands, Trav instructed the rune equation to flare, closing the circle.

Tiffany shuddered as the wave of magic hit.  Trav still felt a little odd, even though it hadn’t affected him much.  The way the rune circle had been constructed truly did make it draw power from Restless mantles themselves.  This type of magic was final and binding, too.  The only way it could ever be removed would be to do this ceremony all over again, with the blood and consent of both parties.

As the knots of the agreement settled in place, Trav thought about rune magic, and how it worked so well as a vehicle for the divine power of the Restless.  Odin had known many other magic systems, but rune magic was powerful on every veil, and especially so on Asgard.  This rune circle would have been much more difficult to craft on some other worlds.

Finally, as the power of the crafting died down, and Tiffany sagged before slowly standing straight again.  She looked Trav in the eye and said, “It is done.” Then she glanced around the room, intoning, “Before witnesses of both households, a new union has been created.”

“Wait, we’re married now?” asked Trav.  “That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.”  Tiffany smiled.  “Thank you.”

“Wow, well that’s something,” Trav began, but trailed off speaking as he felt a change.  He’d just gained two bars of power.

“So, shall we go to the stars now?” asked Tiffany.  She held out an elbow in suggestion.

Somewhat haltingly, Trav held out his arm, and Tiffany took it with a smile.  Then she drew her fan and pointed it before her before making a slashing motion.  A spinning bar of light resolved in an open portal that looked a lot like a veil gate.  “Shall we?” asked the goddess.

Trav just nodded and stepped forward before remembering Narnaste.  “How long is this going to take?” he asked Tiffany.

“It depends.  Time moves differently where we are going.  It could be a few hours, it could be a few days.”

“Days?” said Trav.  He turned to Narnaste.  “If I’m gone a while, just rotate guard shifts, okay?”

The canine Kin shook her head.  “You really shouldn’t go alone.  Remember what happened with the witches and the mine?”

“Witches? Mine?”  Tiffany sounded curious but didn’t wait for an answer.  “Valkyrie Narnaste, where we are going, only Restless may go.  I am sorry.”

Trav put a hand on Narnaste’s shoulder.  “Narn, she made the oaths.  I have to start trusting someone or we are screwed.  Not only that, you can feel through the bond whether I’m in danger or not so this should be okay, right?”

Narnaste slowly nodded.  Behind her, Leonard bowed his head respectfully to Tiffany.  “We will guard this home while you are away, Majesty.”

Tiffany smiled in return, and moved toward the portal again.  Trav followed, and as soon as he’d made contact with it, the world flashed white and he was someplace else.

Chapter 5

"Wow," said Trav.

"This is my private temple.  It kind of came with my mantle."  Tiffany was facing the other direction and was trying to hide it, but Trav could hear a note of nervousness in her voice.

The area they stood in looked like a giant round colosseum built on a glass floor suspended in the vastness of space.  A beautiful building rose from the very center, looking something like a cross between a mansion and a museum.  Six completely still ponds were spaced around the building, and lighted arches of gold hung in the sky over them.

Trav didn't need his mystic overlay to tell he was standing in a place of potent power.  Since he'd walked out of an entry arch that Tiffany's portal had connected to, his teeth had been buzzing from the sheer concentration of magic.  This place felt like what it was—the retreat of power of an ancient goddess.

Without being told, Trav immediately understood a few other things, too.  Now that he had visited this place, he could probably figure out how to return.  He didn’t exactly know how yet, but he felt it’d be possible. This place was secure, but was less a fortress than a hidden observatory.

Tiffany no doubt had told the truth about why she'd brought him here, but doing so had also made her vulnerable. Whether the gesture was a calculated risk or a gesture of trust, Trav didn’t know. But if she'd intended it to make him soften towards her, it was working.

The clever blond woman nodded toward the ponds.  "Those are the scrying pools.  I can't use them very well yet, but with more power and skill I will one day be able to see anywhere in the continuum, to track the most important events and people."

“Is that how Zorya witnessed what she shouldn’t have before?  I mean when Odin was murdered.”

“Yes.”

“That makes sense, but then how was she killed, Zorya I mean?  This place is protected and hidden, isn’t it?  I don’t think anyone else could even find this place now, Restless or not.”

“Well, you could now, right?”  Tiffany gave a quick, nervous smile.

Trav had to admit he was impressed.  Tiffany seemed to really be letting her guard down in an effort to build trust.  She was taking the first steps.  Even if everything she was doing was meant to be manipulative, the way she was making herself vulnerable was real.  He kept a poker face and walked to one of the pools, idly glancing down.

Right beneath the surface of the water, he saw a swirl of light that resolved into a mountain for half a second before the swirling lights returned.  Trav felt like he’d been kicked in the head by a mule and stepped away, shaking his head.  He said, “All right, you have a point about tracking, and I figure this is all a show of trust, but why?  I know that we will need to get to know each other and work together, but aren’t you going out on a limb for basically a stranger, marriage or not?  You don’t seem like the sort of person to mindlessly dance to the tune of a prophecy.”

“You’re right.”  Tiffany walked to the pool nearest Trav and sat on the edge, then trailed her fingers through the water.  “Don’t do what I’m doing right now, by the way.  It might kill you.”

“Noted.”

The goddess chuckled and pursed her lips before saying, “Based on what I know, you never asked for your mantle, right?”  Trav shook his head and Tiffany continued, “I didn’t know about all the strings that would come with mine, but I was willing.  On my world, the Restless are not common knowledge, but not unknown, and I spent much of my life studying the mystical world.  I want to change the continuum, and I needed power to do that.  Everything I want to accomplish will be impossible without taking some risks, and the odds will be even worse if my world is destroyed.  I need a partner, Trav.  Given your past, I know you won’t trust easily, but I wanted to do what I could to move that along.  I meant what I said that a partnership will help both of us.”

Trav nodded slowly.  He wasn’t naive enough to just accept what she’d said at face value, but he’d already begun to understand just how little he knew about the world of the Restless.  It was ironic that he had a universe of knowledge locked away in his head but he was still ignorant about the things and people who likely would try to destroy him.  Having a guide would definitely be helpful if he could trust her.

The fact that Tiffany was older than he was and had probably been much better prepared for her mantle would definitely be a benefit...if she didn’t stab him in the back.  He definitely had a lot to think about now, but he remembered what Tiffany said about time moving differently in this place.  “What do we need to do for the announcement?” he asked.

Tiffany nodded at the building.  “There is a device inside that will take us to the very top of this domain.  Once we are there, we can hold hands and I can make the announcement.”

Some of Trav’s borrowed knowledge was triggered by the explanation.  Married Restless were usually more powerful, by some esoteric rule of the universe.  Trav ruefully compared how it worked to filing for taxes jointly on Earth to retain more money.  “I think I understand.  You can make your intention resonate throughout your domain here, and it will actually restructure your mantle a little, right?”

“Yes.”  Tiffany’s eyes and voice showed her surprise.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.  Trav was lost in thought, and Tiffany’s nervousness was beginning to show.  She fidgeted as they moved through the beautiful, opulent building, and Trav turned from watching her to examine their surroundings better.

The place really did seem to be structured a bit like a temple, but was also a workshop, and seemed to be a library and maybe an armory.  Two hallways on either side of the large central room led to other rooms, but he was following Tiffany on a direct path toward a platform in the corner of the room.  Through Trav’s emberstone eye, he could see swirls of incredibly powerful magic around it.  The platform was probably the most heavily protected place in this entire pocket dimension, or not-a-place, which was saying something.  Protective magic was layered practically everywhere Trav looked.

They passed a tapestry on the wall, showing a scene of primordial creation, and the two stepped up on the pedestal.  “What now?” asked Trav.

In response, Tiffany raised her fan, and without any sense of motion or time passing first, the two of them were floating among the stars, looking down on the building and the pools below.  The goddess turned to meet Trav’s eyes and held out a hand.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Trav slowly put his hand in hers, and as soon as he did, he felt his mantle tremble.  Instinctively, he knew that his consent had carried some sort of mystical significance.  Where he had contact with Tiffany, his skin grew warm, and he felt his power touch hers.  Where the two forces met, they began to intertwine.

On the mystic level, their two Restless mantles began to resonate, to harmonize.

Tiffany’s wordless voice suddenly rang out into the void, disappearing as soon as it hit the vacuum of space, but Trav could both see and feel the eddies of power continue onward.  His eyes wide, he witnessed the stars themselves seem to respond to her power, her will.

For the first time since he’d become Restless, Trav truly felt awe at the potential of what he was becoming.  Everything he was witnessing now was far beyond some magic spells or flashy abilities.

The moment seemed to last for a while, but Trav couldn’t tell how long—he was spellbound.  Finally, he found himself back in the temple with Tiffany.  The fashionable blond woman was sweating and panting heavily.  She reached one hand out against the wall to steady herself and muttered, “Thanks.”

As Trav mutely nodded, he checked his power levels, slightly disappointed that they hadn’t gone up past the two bars of power he’d already gotten from getting married.  After reflecting on his current thoughts, he shook his head.  My life is truly strange now.

Then after drawing one last shaky breath and righting herself, Tiffany cracked her neck and turned to Trav.  “I’m going to head back now,” she said.  “As a gesture of trust, I’m going to leave you here, just please don’t destroy my stronghold.”  She smiled nervously.  “When you want to head back, you can just step on the area outside where we arrived.”

Trav nodded, and just like that, the goddess disappeared.  Where she’d been standing, only little motes of light swirled until they settled to the ground.  “Well, that was a little sudden,” he muttered.

The events he’d just witnessed were still weighing heavily on him.  It had been easy to forget the scope of his new problems while he rode around Asgard on Narnaste’s back, but Tiffany—no—Zorya’s domain was really driving it home with a hammer.

He wandered for a while, just thinking.  Despite having a plan now after having met the Oracle, somewhere deep inside he still felt lost, like he was waiting for something to happen.  The feeling was like leaving a hotel room while being sure that something got left behind.

Trav wandered around to the different pools and peered in each of them, but still didn’t see anything with any meaning to him.  Finally he sighed and spoke out loud in English.  “When it rains, it pours.”  He shook his head and walked toward his exit.  He vowed to delegate more, and bounce some ideas off of his valkyries as soon as he got back.  Keeping his own counsel might drive him nuts if he kept bottling everything up.

The moment he stepped in the area that Tiffany had told him to use, the world shifted.

***

Trav took a moment to understand where he was.  He was completely disoriented and almost immediately started coughing.

“My Lord!” croaked a voice.  “Thank the heavens!”

Eyes watering, Trav peered through the gloom, using his emberstone eye to augment his vision.  Through a doorway, he could see the lizardman that had been working for Tiffany.  Suddenly, he understood he was in her house, in the room he’d been in when he’d gotten married.  In fact, he could see some of the rune markings on the ground.

The house was on fire.

Trav coughed again, then crouched low.  He summoned Hex and pointed around himself, croaking, “Air.”  A fresh, breathable bubble formed around his head for a few seconds, allowing him to gasp his way into clarity before it dispersed.

“My Lord, we are under attack,” shouted the lizardman.  “Most everyone has fled.  I remained behind but I couldn’t stay much longer.”

“What?” shouted Trav.

“We must flee!  Faith is under attack!”  The lizardman darted forward and took hold of Trav’s sleeve, dragging him forward.  “You are in great danger!  Please, follow me!”

Trav glanced around at the burning building, processed the situation, and realized he didn’t have his spear in hand.  “Wonderful.”

Chapter 6

Trav pulled away from the lizardman and the creature’s eyes nictated, clearly surprised.  “My Lord, you must leave!  The building may collapse at any time!  I was only here because I was compelled by my queen!”

“So Tiffany is not out to get me, huh?” coughed Trav.

“No!”  Even while choking the words out, the outrage in the lizardman’s voice was clear.  “It’s the Church!  Mistress Erben refused to leave this place without leaving one of us behind just in case you came back!”

Trav nodded, vaguely understanding what might have happened.  The knowledge from his mantle might have been helping him put the pieces together.  He remembered how Tiffany had said there was a time difference between her domain and Asgard, and this could be why she seemed to have returned before he did.  Taking slow breaths to stay calm, he quickly thought through his options.  Panic was an enemy, and he had learned his lesson about being unarmed in the witch cave before.  He pointed his shiv and clearly, coldly said, “Searching Smoke.  Spear.”

A section of smoke solidified, forming a tendril that snaked through the air.  As the lizardman watched on in shock, Trav felt tired.  He was glad he’d had the foresight to load four different kinds of searching spells into Hex, but he was getting tired of being blindsided.

In only seconds, his spear floated to him through the suffocating grey smoke.  Like he’d thought, he’d set it down to work on the binding rune equations before going to Tiffany’s realm.  He turned to the lizardman and said, “Alright, let’s go.  I’ll generate some air for us to breathe, but go slow and tell me what happened.  Give me a twenty-second short version.”

“Yes my Lord.  My name is…”

“I don’t care about your name.  Get to the point,” growled Trav.  “I just appeared in the middle of a burning house, and none of my friends, nor my new wife is here.”  He’d stumbled a bit over the word, “wife.”  He continued, “How do I know that you or Tiffany weren’t responsible for this?”

The lizardman blinked at him in astonishment before coughing explosively.  Trav gave him a bubble of breathable air, and after recovering, the Kin got out, “Why would we burn down our own house?  Plus, I’m trying to help you, not kill you!”  The creature’s eyes flashed.  “Are you stupid?  I thought Restless were supposed to be wise, or at least clever.  I don’t know what my mistress ever even saw in you to marry you!  You should be thanking the heavens for your good fortune, not keeping us trapped in a burning building while enemies kill our brethren outside!”  The lizardman had showed his teeth and hissed his s’s.  He seemed to realize what he’d said, but didn’t back down.  “This is a crisis!  The entire village that has sheltered us is probably already destroyed.”

As the lizardman turned away with a huff, Trav made a face.  This really wasn’t a good place to be having an argument with the Kin.  He shook his head and thought, No, he likely isn’t even from this world, so not Kin, right?  What is this lizardman then, an alien?  Out loud he said, “Alright, so the Church is attacking, everyone is running away, and there aren’t many left in town.”  He spoke his guesses out loud.  “I’ve been gone for a while, maybe days, and Tiffany got back before me.”

The lizardman turned back and showed his teeth before grating out, “Yes.”

“And how long have I been gone, total?”

“About ten days.”

“When did Tiffany get back, before me?” he asked.

“Yes. Two days ago.”

“Fine, then I understand, let’s go.”  Trav took a step to move forward again.  Now that he understood and believed that the greatest current danger wasn’t the burning house he was standing in, he was beginning to feel more nervous.  Sounds of fighting outside the house that suddenly wafted through a window seemed to underscore this.

The lizardman stared, and his body language seemed to say, “See?”

Trav waved.  “Yeah, yeah, I get it.  I’m leaving now, I promise.”

“I never thought I would need to convince another being to leave a burning building,” growled the lizardman, but he moved forward at a slow crouch, leading the way.  The path to the door was fairly straightforward except for one dogleg.  Damage to the house meant they needed to take a brief side route through a room and back into the hallway.  Visibility was horrible, and Trav kept using magic to give them both breathable air.  Luckily, this didn’t take much of his power, just a second of concentration each time.

Finally, they reached the door, which looked like it’d been smashed.  Thankfully, this wall of the house was not on fire, but there was some sort of rubbish right outside, maybe a destroyed cart.  The lizardman hissed and moved forward, trying to look outside as best he could.  Then he began pushing the debris outside.  “This is new,” he grunted.  “I’ve been in here for hours, though.”

“Hours?”  Trav moved forward to help with the blockage.

“Yes.  My queen wanted to travel to her domain to find you, but she was needed here, and the time differential was a problem.  The compromise she came up with was to leave me here.  Your valkyries wanted to stay instead, but my queen forbade it.  She said she had sworn an oath to consider their safety.”  With one last heave, the lizardman pushed the pile of wood out of the way.

“She forbade it?” asked Trav.  “How could Tiffany stop them from doing—”

“My Lord, watch out!” shouted the lizardman.  He suddenly leapt at Trav, pushing him to one side and pinning him to the door frame.  Trav grunted and managed to move to the side.  As he did, the lizardman fell, and Trav could see three arrows in his back.

A glance up showed him four tabard-wearing, smiling Dacith, already reloading their atlatls.  So the lizardman had been killed by darts, not arrows.  A glance down showed that that lizardman was mortally wounded, but still conscious.  “Kill me,” he whispered.  “Allow me to protect my queen one final time.  You must find her.”  The alien’s eyes were completely inhuman, but Trav could understand the emotion there.

He nodded, but pointed Hex at the Dacith first.  “Chain lightning,” he said.  A brilliant blue flash of electricity erupted from the dagger, hitting one Dacith then arcing through the rest.  They were all knocked to the ground, but still moved, so Trav hit them again.  This time, they all just smoked and lay still.  “I hate those things,” he said.  Now that he was out in the street, he could clearly hear the sounds of fighting in the distance.  Half of Faith seemed to be on fire.  The magic he’d just used hadn’t been silent, so he might not be alone in the street for much longer.

The dying lizardman at his feet made him pause.  Trav might be dead right now, or at the very least would be injured if the lizardman hadn’t protected him.  “What is your name,” asked Trav.

“Risscith.”

“Risscith, I’m sorry for being a dick earlier.  You were very brave.  I was just disoriented and I forgot you weren’t Kin.”

After baring bloody teeth, Risscith said, “But I am Kin, my Lord.  I have brethren on this world.”  The lizardman deeply coughed.  “Please make this quick.  I do not wish to be interrogated by the Church, and I cannot go with you.  Please tell my queen that I served her until the end.”  The Kin was hiding his fear well, but he looked away and closed his eyes.

Trav nodded, even as he felt discomfort in his heart.  For his friends, it’d been ten days, but for him, a hell of a lot had happened within only one day.  He was having a tough time staying focused, but he didn’t have time to sit around, thinking about his shortcomings in the street.  Trav cocked an arm back and put his spear right through Risscith’s heart, almost instantly killing the lizardman.

As he delivered the blow, something echoed in Trav’s mantle, and he felt an option he never had before.  Narrowing his eyes, he held out his hand with his ring, the symbol of his mantle.  “Bravery,” he said.

The air changed, and he felt heavier, then lighter.  Something of mystical significance had just happened, something important, but Trav couldn’t figure out what it was. He frowned in frustration before taking off in one direction at a jog.  It would be great if one day he could actually use his memories instead of being used by them.

“Listen,” he said, touching his temple with Hex.  As soon as he did, his sense of hearing improved, helping him dodge the enemy Kin rampaging around Faith.  From what he could see, they all wore identical yellow tabards emblazoned with a blue book.  “This must be The Church of Self,” he whispered.

There were bodies everywhere in the street, both human and Kin, mostly human.  The Faithful had killed a few of the Church members, but not many it seemed.  Trav grimly dodged through narrow alleys to avoid detection.  Most of the Church Kin he could see now were Dacith, going through houses, stealing, and dragging out screaming Faithful.  Trav focused on sneaking through town, and even used magic to help him climb walls, finally taking to a rooftop near the center of town.  As soon as he had the high vantage point, he had a better idea of what was happening and breathed, “Shit.”

To one side of the valley, coming from the direction of the road Narnaste had mentioned before but Trav had never seen, was an army clad in yellow tabards.  There was at least a couple thousand of them, and they were marching directly toward Faith.  Since Faith was already full of Church soldiers, Trav could only figure that he was looking at the real fighting force, or reinforcement, and the scouts or shock troops had already taken the town.

The opposite direction from the army was actually where Trav had walked out of the forest when he’d come to this place.  Now the field in that direction was littered with the bodies of the Faithful, even children.  A small group of Kin in yellow tabards stood in the center of the open area, hurling magic and weapons at any terrified Faithful they saw.

Trav began to despair, doubting his friends had escaped, but he remembered his connection with the valkyries.  With a thought, he chose to sense where they all were, and realized they’d all escaped in the direction that the small group of Church fighters were slaughtering fleeing Kin.  They were at least a few miles away now.

Now Trav knew where he ultimately needed to go, but he wondered if he should head in a different direction first.  The problem was that the area all around the village had been cleared, and running through an open field would leave him exposed.  It was ironic that the efforts the Faithful had made to make Faith more defensible had also made it much more dangerous to escape from.

Trav was still weighing his options as he studied the direction his valkyries had gone.  He focused on the group of Church Kin killing noncombatants, and while the violence didn’t sit right with him, it was just Kin killing Kin.  He touched his temple with Hex and whispered, “Sight,” to get a better look, and his breath caught.

The Kin in the middle of the group was Rakshasa.  It wasn’t Kraachias, the monster that had killed Beth, but it was the same race, Rakshasa, the ruling class of the country of Kyvendi.

Hatred began to rise in Trav’s heart, and memories danced through his mind, feeding on his rage.

***

On what was one of the worst days of his life, Trav had witnessed Beth’s murder.  It happened during an inspection of the slums by the local Kin lords, something that usually occurred twice a year or so after the creatures decided that production should go up.  It was obvious they came through to sow fear, to make the slaves work harder, a pattern that likely wouldn’t have even been noticed without a few slaves like Trav who managed to live for a while.

This time had been different, though.  The delegation of Kin had been larger and even more danger had been in the air.  Surrounding guards had been on edge, nastier and even more brutal than usual.

Splitting up married or paired couples during inspections had actually been Trav’s idea a year earlier.  He’d noticed that the monstrous Kin seemed to enjoy breaking apart families, or torturing loved ones in front of the slaves.  To prevent this, now no families stood together whenever any Kin were around.

On top of this, the slaves had insisted that Trav hide just like the infirm or sick did during inspections.  The Kin had to know the slaves did this, but they also knew it was only the ones that would die soon anyway.  It seemed the monsters couldn’t believe that any slaves would willingly help others hide unless they were unhealthy.  In general, this actually held true except for Trav.  Whether out of gratitude or self-interest, none of the slaves had wanted Trav out in the open where some passing Kin noble could kill him on a whim.

Trav had watched the procession through the wooden slats of his hiding place beneath a shack.  Two older slaves had joined him.  Both men had run afoul of the guards before and the decent majority of the slave community that Trav had led were trying to protect them.

When Trav had seen the center of the procession, he’d spotted the biggest, meanest-looking Rakshasa he’d ever seen.  This one looked sort of like a mix between a man and a tiger, but over seven feet tall, clad in armor, with spiked elbows.  The Rakshasa had sported big wings too, much larger than any Trav had seen before, and most Rakshasa didn’t have wings to begin with.

Casual, random cruelty was on display again that day, like every other time there’d been a procession, but this time it had been even worse.  The Rakshasa was giving some of the other Kin permission to kill, and even eat the slaves.  All the slaves had been ordered out into the open before the procession made its way there, so the monsters had plenty of choices.

When Trav had seen this, he’d been eternally thankful that Beth had been hiding, too.  The way she was positioned actually wasn’t entirely hiding like Trav was, she was standing in a hard-to-see spot.  She hadn’t exactly been breaking the rules to be out in the open, but she’d likely be unseen.

But then everything had gone to hell, seemingly by random chance.  One of the Kin in the procession, a larger Dacith than the others, had pointed at a child and asked its master something.  Trav had felt a chill up his spine when he realized that he knew the boy.  The child’s name had been Vekko, a young teen that Beth had been teaching basic first aid.  He’d been a good kid, and the panic on his face at that moment had been obvious.

And then Beth, good-hearted, brave, impulsive Beth had jumped out, putting her arms around the boy, and paused for a heartbeat before yelling something at the Kin.  The moment this had happened, Trav’s heart fell.  He’d barely even registered the hands being placed on him as the two old men he was hiding with pushed him down.

When his wife had first moved, Trav had felt a flash of anger that she’d gone to help the boy, made even more intense by fear, but he’d quickly let it go.  If the child in danger had been any other slave, or if Beth hadn’t been standing so close, he was sure she would have stayed still.  But Vekko had been right in front of her, and obviously sentenced to death.  She’d likely moved without thinking and then known she’d sealed her fate.  Maybe she was still trying to save the boy, because she must have known she’d already doomed herself.

Beth had just showed defiance.  Any evidence of spirit in the slaves was usually dealt with harshly, but while a Kin noble was visiting, much less a Rakshasa, the guards were even more brutal.

What happened next would live on in Trav’s nightmares forever.  One of the guards, a toad-thing, moved forward with a hiss, but the Rakshasa had put a hand on its shoulder, then stepped forward himself.

The beast had grinned, and casually used a claw to cut off Beth’s clothing.  As the rags had fallen to the ground, she’d just stood there, not trying to cover herself.  All the slaves learned early not to show any modesty, or they might be abused even worse by the Kin.  The Kin seemed to enjoy shaming them.

Rakshasas had retractable claws, and this one had run his filthy hands across Beth’s body, randomly unsheathing a claw here and there to hurt her.  She winced, but stood strong, saying something else.  Trav guessed she’d begged for Vekko’s life again, and the Rakshasa had responded by casually pointing and blasting a hole through the youth’s chest.

Beth’s scream echoed through the slums, and she’d whipped forward like a spring, attacking the Rakshasa with a metal nail hidden in her hand.  The creature had been so much taller than her, she’d needed to jump, but the monster had casually grabbed her by the wrist.  Held with bone-crushing force, Beth dropped the knife and dangled her in the air while she ineffectively punched and kicked.

But she must have quickly realized her struggles were pointless.  And in that moment, when her attack had failed, protecting Vekko had failed, and she had no other options left, Beth had looked over the beast’s shoulder where Trav had been hiding.  Her eyes had grown soft, and she’d offered a quirk of the mouth, likely her way of saying goodbye.  She’d begun to silently mouth something when the beast began to lower her and she gasped in pain.

Once she was back on the ground, the Rakshasa had unsheathed his claws and grabbed Beth on one shoulder to steady her.  Then with surgical precision, made cuts in her shoulder before slowly ripping her arm off.  The Kin had grinned sadistically, and stepped back to avoid the majority of the blood from ruining his fancy robes.  Beth fainted, going limp, but the Rakshasa had briefly glowed, using some sort of magic, and Beth’s eyes snapped open again.

Then the screaming started in earnest.  The Kin noble had pulled off Beth’s limbs like a child might pull the legs off an insect, keeping her conscious through the entire ordeal.  He’d hissed at all the noise, and torn off Beth’s jaw before kicking her body into a gutter.  The other Kin in the procession had panted or giggled.

Beth was still making panting screams, still kept conscious by the monster’s magic, and the Rakshasa had crouched before reaching down and almost daintily plucking out her tongue.  The stricken, once-beautiful woman had begun gurgling, choking as she died.

As Beth had bled out, Trav thrashed, clenching his teeth so tightly his entire head hurt.  His eyes were wide, and tears mixed with the dirt he was lying in to coat his beard with mud.  The two old timers in his hiding spot kept hands on him, trying desperately to restrain him.  They whispered calming words, fear in their voices.  One of them had also been crying.

There was no way two frail slaves could have actually restrained Trav if he really wanted to break free, but he warred with himself inside.  If he left his hiding place and ran forward, he’d die too, and likely the slaves he was hiding with.  Hell, maybe a large number of other slaves would also be killed.  While the rank-and-file Kin were instructed not to kill slaves and waste resources, the nobility didn’t seem to care.

The moment seemed to stretch, as Trav’s rational mind slowly won out over his other emotions.  Grief and despair warred with logic, and logic won.  Trav had never felt so cowardly or useless in his entire life.  He never knew he could despise a single creature so much, or want anything dead with every fiber of his being.  Something new rose in Trav, something dark.

The Voice had spoken then.  “Vengeance,” it intoned.

Then suddenly the Rakshasa had cocked a head and bellowed out a laugh.  The monster turned, and his eyes glowed as he projected his voice.  “I have not felt this level of bloodlust in a long time, especially from a slave!  You are a slave right, hiding one?”  Then he’d turned and looked directly in Trav’s direction with cruel, yellow eyes.

“My Lord, shall we search that area?” asked one of the guards, a huge, rhinoceros-looking monster.

“No, I forbid it.  If the hiding one chooses to keep hiding, let them.  When you live to be as old as I am, some mystery adds excitement to life.”  Then the hateful creature had raised his voice further.  “Whoever you are, staring at me with such hate, please come find me one day...or not.  The reality is that if you are a slave, you will likely die here, and I will continue being a leader of this glorious country.  You are nothing, and I am eternal.  But making enemies keeps one’s existence interesting, don’t you agree?  I will introduce myself for you. I am called Lord Kraachias, one of the rulers of Kyvendi.”

He’d continued, “But I will not assume, no, you may be an old enemy after all, not a new one.  One thing I do not need to assume is that you are weak.  If not, you would be acting now, not cowering, merely directing hatred and killing intent at me.  Only the weak hate from the shadows, yes?  I will continue to invite my enemies to come find me, but most seem to ignore my offer.  I wonder why that is?”

The feline monster had apparently amused himself, and he chuckled as he walked away, his procession following him.  Some of the other Kin had also laughed, mostly nervously, but as soon as the Rakshasa had been out of sight, they’d glared around, obviously planning to find whoever Kraachias had been talking to.  Some other slaves had quickly moved Trav then, hiding him somewhere else, but he had barely noticed.

As he was carried, he sobbed.  His rational mind knew there’d been nothing he could do, but he’d felt weak, powerless, and despite the look he’d seen in her eyes before she’d died, he felt like he’d failed Beth.  One of the worst parts of the whole scene was how Kraachias had walked away, blood on his expensive robes, tail swishing, already forgetting the human woman he’d murdered.  He’d almost instantly focused on something else.  Killing Beth had been nothing to him, like a brief distraction.

Blood had rushed to Trav’s ears, and grief fell on his shoulders like a ton of stone, so much that he barely even registered people talking to him.  He was alone again on Asgard.  Beth was gone, and he’d been powerless, powerless and pathetic.  All his human strength and immunity to the emberstone had been nothing compared to the weakest Kin, much less a Rakshasa.

The rest of that day had been a blur.

The next day, after he’d learned that Beth’s body had been burned with the trash, he’d vowed to do whatever he could to one day escape the mines, and to kill Kraachias.  The fire in his belly had kept him going, driving him to keep trying.  Sometimes, he’d resented the other slaves, grown frustrated that he felt obligated to save them when he’d just wanted vengeance or death, but Beth’s memory had stopped him.  She’d been practical, but had also had a huge heart—it had been one of the things he’d loved about her.

But he had to believe he had time.  After all, the mines weren’t physically breaking him, and he didn’t seem to be aging anymore. He just needed to figure out how to find some power, and to use all the damn rune magic in his head.

***

Trav came back to the present and stared at the distant Rakshasa with murder in his heart.  This one had tiny wings, and was dark, shaggy.  Its cruel, toothy smile looked familiar, though.  “Not today, motherfucker,” snarled Trav.  “I’m not a slave anymore, and you may not be the asshole I need to kill, but you’ll do for a replacement.”

Deep down, he knew that he should be escaping, not picking a fight, but seeing this Rakshasa had brought everything rushing back.  The day his wife had been murdered, he’d lain in the dirt like a dog, doing nothing while Beth had been tortured.  How had he ignored all the dead humans in Faith, and in the field?  The nightmare wasn’t over.  Now he was watching a Rakshasa kill people again, but this time, he refused to just run away.

“For Beth,” he snarled, and stealthily moved down the wall from his perch.  He thought, If you know you’re planning to do something stupid, it’s best to do it loud.  Trav still planned to evade the invaders in Faith, and he was going to give the Kin in the field one hell of a surprise.

For the first time he’d been on Asgard, Trav actually had the opportunity to hurt one of the Rakshasa bastards.  This was something he had to do.

Chapter 7

Trav crouched behind a shed, eyeballing the trio of Kin in the field in the distance.  He’d managed to sneak through Faith to this point, but the entire area behind him was rapidly filling with enemy Kin.  He’d also heard a new commotion a few minutes ago.  For all he knew, they’d found the Dacith that Trav had fried and were looking for him.

He steadied himself and stilled his thoughts, inventorying his magic, and reviewing his available power.  Despite being furious and fully intending to rip the Rakshasa apart if he could, Trav had to reluctantly admit the monster might still be too much for him.  If so, he had magical ways to escape, but they were risky and might kill him more quickly than the monsters would.  It would be a while before Trav would be able to reliably and safely teleport.  Once he started a fight, he’d be committed unless things got truly desperate.  Picking a fight with one of the ruling-class monsters of this Kin country might be suicidal.

Then again, while just running might be less risky, it wouldn’t be much safer overall.  He would still need to cross a wide open field with enemies roaming around, likely looking for escapees just like him.  Killing the Kin in the field might actually give him his best chance of survival in this situation.  His anger was in agreement with his rational mind, now he just needed to figure out the best way to initiate a fight.

Trav ran through his permanent upgrades and available magic.  After his marriage with Tiffany, he’d gained about two bars of power, bringing him up to a total of twelve.  Of that, he had seven bars tied up in permanent abilities that he’d placed on his body.  These upgrades included his first, two-bar upgrade, “Overall Strength,” then Ventrilomagic, Air Scribing, a magic shield, and two bars in a focus and renewal ability.

So he had a total of five free bars of power, and he’d used up about one of them so far since he’d woken up, leaving four bars of power to fight with.  Could be better, but not bad, he thought.

Despite being mad as hell, ready to tear a Rakshasa apart, the mines had taught Trav to be thoughtful and ruthless.  He used a stick to carefully measure the wall of the shed he was standing behind, moving up to the side and lying down so he would be harder to spot as he began scribing rune equations with Hex into the wall facing the field.  Pausing midway through, he used the stick again to aim his rune equations before continuing.   If everything went well, hopefully he wouldn’t need to use this, but if he was going down, he wanted to kill these fuckers for sure.

Trav worked quickly and efficiently before rolling back to concealment.  From there, he inscribed the back side of the shed, using a stick to aim this part too, and connected it to the front.  Now two sides of the sheds were covered in magical sigils, glyphs, and runes.  He hadn’t invested any serious power into the binding rune equation yet, just tethered himself to it.  The fact that he’d physically scribed it meant he could activate it at long distances, but it would still take about a bar of power to use.

This thing would pack a very serious wallop.

Then it was time to use magic to strengthen himself, which was one reason he’d wanted to keep bars of power available instead of just investing in permanent upgrades.  He touched Hex to his chest, announcing, “Strength, Speed, Toughness.”  Tingles spread through his body as the magic took effect.  Powering these limited-time abilities had used up almost one full bar of power.

Before this, as best Trav could figure, he’d had the strength of about four full-grown human men.  Now, for about a half hour, his physical abilities had been doubled.  He felt strong as a bear, fast as a cheetah, and durable as an action movie star.

All his preparations complete, he let the rage come back full force, letting it warm his blood.  There was no other reason to wait around or hide, so Trav started forward, trying to run at a crouch.  He doubted that shuffling like this across the field would fool any Kin, but he had to try.  When he figured it was impossible to hide anymore, he stood up straight, holding his spear to the side.

His plan was to use the Kins’ and specifically the Rakshasa’s pride and bestial nature against them.  Seeing an unbowed human ready to fight might make the monsters curious or foolish enough to let him close with them.  Trav’s breathing picked up and he readied himself to dodge, or to evade death with pure reflexes.  He checked to make sure that his natural, low-level magical shield was still intact.

As it turned out, none of his caution had been necessary.  All three Kin were looking in a different direction, chuckling as they threw rocks with superhuman strength at fleeing Faithful.  One of the Rakshasa’s cronies, a big, dinosaur-looking thing, was also using some sort of magical weapon.  If any of the Faithful got too close to the tree line, the magical weapon engulfed them in fire.

Trav blinked as the three didn’t even turn, then he shrugged, walking forward until he was in range and smiling evilly.  “Chain lightning,” he growled.

Electricity burst from Hex, slamming into one of the Kin, the third one that looked like a huge, scaled anteater.  The lightning arced to the other two Kin, but not much else happened.  Instead of being blown off their feet and wounded like the Dacith had, they just kind of stood still with their backs stiffened.  One tried to turn but it seemed the electricity had locked all the Church soldiers’ muscles.

This close, Trav could see what they were all wearing and carrying in far more detail.  The dinosaur-looking thing had been using a weapon that looked like a wand, and allowed it to throw exploding balls of fire.  This Kin was bipedal, and wore heavy armor made of leather and plates of metal.  The anteater had a bow at its feet, and Trav distantly wondered how it even used the weapon, considering its huge claws, until he saw the archery release on its wrist.

A crossbow had been in the Rakshasa’s hand, but as Trav watched, the weapon fell as the Kin released it.  Like other Rakshasa that Trav had seen before, this one wore a longsword over his dark armor.

None of the Kin seemed particularly damaged by the magical attack, and they all began turning at once.

Trav began getting a bad feeling, kind of a murmur at the back of his anger.  Suddenly, the memory of Beth’s death came back to him, but not just the brutality of it.  He remembered the obvious fear that had been on the faces of the Kin following Kraachias the Rakshasa.  Trav pointed Hex and again said, “Chain lightning.”  Even as the lance of electricity jumped out to his enemies, he also cast, “Explosion.”  A geyser of dirt tore upward between the anteater and the Rakshasa.  “Explosion!” he thundered, as he both inscribed and detonated another rune trap between the Rakshasa and the dinosaur Kin.

This time, the three hadn’t been unscathed.  The dinosaur and the anteater Kin were blown off their feet, but the Rakshasa was only lifted before settling back again.  After staring into Trav’s eyes, he cocked his head and said, “I’ll take this one.”

“My Lord!”  The anteater got to his feet and bowed low.  “Please let us protect you!”

“Fine job you’ve done so far,” grunted the Rakshasa.  Then the beast flexed his claws and gave Trav a considering look, all cold and calculating.

“This slave is using magic!”

“Obviously.”

This was not going how Trav had expected, so he pointed Hex again and commanded, “Chain lightning!”  He showed his teeth in satisfaction as the two lesser Kin screamed and fell back this time, smoking.  The lightning had kicked up some dust too.  Then his face fell as the dust settled and the Rakshasa was revealed with a pale magical shield, standing with his arms crossed.

“Are you finished now, human?” asked the creature.  The feline Kin eyed Hex.  “That seems to be a valuable weapon.  I think you should give it to me before I kill you slowly.”  The Kin drew his longsword in a practiced motion.

“Don’t you mean give it to you or you’ll kill me slowly?”

“No,” said the Kin, and with no warning, he sprang forward, swinging his sword down diagonally.

Trav met the attack with his spear, parrying the blade to one side, which turned out to be a lucky choice.  The force of the strike made his hands vibrate, and the incredible slash still came uncomfortably close to hitting him.  Trav was normally stronger than the lowest-level Kin now, and he’d buffed himself, but he’d grossly underestimated this Rakshasa.

The seven-foot-tall, powerful Kin twisted and attacked again, obviously an experienced swordsman.  Very little dynamic motion had been lost, and the cut was delivered directly at Trav’s chest.  He desperately blocked the attack, and his shoulders were hammered by the shock of the blow.  His spear was almost driven back into his chest, and the Kin’s longsword came close to Trav’s shoulder as he was thrown back.

“That must be a very, very good weapon,” purred the Rakshasa.  He was eyeballing Trav’s spear, and began stalking forward with a toothy grin.  The longsword lashed out, lightning quick, and Trav parried, but it had been a feint.  The Rakshasa darted forward, other hand extended.

As he back-pedaled, Trav quickly called the fallen Hex into his hand, pointed forward and said, “Back gust!”  A gale of wind sprang up directly ahead of him and slightly upward, blowing him back forty feet.  “Soften,” he said, pointing at the ground.  His feet hit hard, but it felt like landing on a trampoline.  It took a second to get his balance and he glared at the Kin.  This time it was the Rakshasa’s turn to be surprised that Trav had evaded the grab.

In the distant town, Trav could still hear people dying, or being chased, and he tuned it out.  Part of him was much more bothered than he would have imagined that the Faithful were being killed, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.  In fact, he was beginning to wonder if he might have picked a fight he couldn’t win.  All of his righteous anger from before was being slowly replaced with fear.

Being a god or not, this feels like I might get my ass kicked, thought Trav.  Beth, what would you say?  This whole thing was pretty selfish of me, huh?  Probably cocky at least.  I shouldn’t have charged in without any information.  Trav’s eyes glinted, and he grimaced.

Hex came up, and he shouted, “Explosion!”  This time, when the earth fountained upward, the Rakshasa wasn’t hit.  The beast had already moved to the side and crouched down to avoid the majority of the blast.  Trav didn’t wait for his enemy to recover, yelling, “Scatter fire!”  From where Hex pointed, a cone of white-hot cinders exploded outward, the attack’s range was barely further than his distance to the Rakshasa.

The Kin’s glowing shield brightened, and the Kin’s eyes glowed.  “I have not heard of a human this powerful existing for a long, long time.  On second thought, I think I want to take you alive.  The Church would love to have you.”

“Fuck you,” snarled Trav.  He bound forward, his supernatural speed letting him close the distance in a blink, and yelled, “Flamethrower!”  White-hot fire shot from the tip of his shiv, just like Trav had practiced before.  Part of him had been hoping that the fight would be over, but he was still wary, which was why he saw the anteater Kin begin to rise with its bow out the corner of his eye.

Trav turned, yelled, “Accelerate!” and threw Hex.  The shiv was instantly sped up as it flew through the air, hitting like a massively heavy rifle round.  All Trav’s practice with the ability had paid off, because while the weapon didn’t go exactly where he’d aimed, it still clipped the Kin’s shoulder.  The anteater screamed as its arm was torn off, and it clamped one hand over the wound, falling to the ground.

Out of the smoke to the other side, the dinosaur thing barreled forward at Trav, and flicked its weapon.  Trav saw it too late to dodge, so the best he could do was hold out a hand and project his magic shield the best he could.  The glob of fire hit him square.  His shield absorbed most of the explosion, but a wave of heat still got through, blistering his skin and burning one hand.

He screamed, and retaliated by using all his enhanced strength to throw his spear.  The weapon shot forward like a rocket before punching right through the dinosaur Kin like wet tissue paper, leaving a massive hole through the middle of its body.

Trav hurt so bad he could barely think, but he still managed to call Hex into his good hand and scream, “Pain, compartmentalize!”  His torment was instantly manageable, and with his wits intact, he turned in time to see the Rakshasa rushing him, sword raised.

Shit shit shit! Trav thought.  He checked his available power and his heart sunk.  His resources were rapidly dwindling.  Trav had less than two bars of power left.  “Back gust!”  Trav was blown back again.  He’d tried to angle himself to get closer to where he’d set up his trap, but he’d gotten turned around at some point.  “Soften!”

The moment Trav’s boots touched the ground, he held his hand to the side and shouted, “Searching Mist.  Spear!”  Thudding, running steps would have announced the Rakshasa’s approach even if Trav couldn’t see him.  The monster hadn’t waited, and was almost right on top of Trav again.

Trav acted like he was going to flee to the right, but then went left instead.  The heavy Rakshasa howled as his momentum took him the wrong direction.  “Accelerate!”  Trav threw Hex at the dangerous Kin, but the Rakshasa somehow managed to block the attack, his longsword ringing like a bell as he parried the heavy blow.

“Fuck!” cursed Trav.  He ran as fast as he could, heading to the point he’d aimed at before while he’d surveyed the field.  While he ran, his spear slapped into his open palm.  With a pang of regret, he wished he could use both hands to fight but one was too mangled right now.  His burned hand wasn’t moving at all.

His mind raced.  He might not be as fast as he would be if he were uninjured, but if he could end this fight here, but he could still escape.  Most of the other Church forces were still distant.  This Rakshasa was likely high ranking and had wanted to have his own fun with friends.  “Fuckers!” Trav could feel his anger coming back.  Anything was better than fear, so he held onto it.

The Rakshasa came barreling toward him, but stopped before getting too close and instead advanced on the balls of his inhuman feet, tail swishing.  The Kin’s eyes were narrowed, and teeth were showing, but the expression was not mocking anymore.  This monster was taking Trav seriously now.  Damn.  This would be a lot easier if he just rushed me.

Trav was down to one arm and a spear, but the Kin obviously knew he was still dangerous.  With patience honed by training with his cousin Ash, then Jang-mi, Trav waited for the eventual attack, a lunging stab.  He barely evaded the Rakshasa’s blade, and hissed as he stabbed in return.  The hit was true, jabbing the Rakshasa through the bicep.  While the blow hadn’t been very solid, it was still enough to make the monster start bleeding heavily.

As the beast roared and took a step back, Trav was able to see the damage all of his magical attacks had done to his enemy.  While the beast had avoided the majority of the damage, like Trav had earlier using a shield of his own, there were still burns and injuries all over the Rakshasa’s body.

Perfect.

Trav stabbed again, trying to take advantage of the Kin lord’s momentary weakness.  His attack was aimed right at the monster’s feline face, and would have been beautiful if it’d hit, but it didn’t.  The Rakshasa swept the thrust to the side and moved impossibly quickly, lashing out with a bare hand, claws extended.

Without even thinking about it. Trav raised his bad arm to block and screamed as the Rakshasa’s claws tore strips out of his shoulder even as the impact broke his arm.  He fell back, somehow holding onto his spear, and scooted back on his butt.  The Kin followed, grinning again, and stepped on Trav’s weapon before triumphantly moving forward for the kill.

Now, he thought.  Trav remotely triggered his trap he’d laid earlier, shoving a full bar of power into the effort.

The distant, rune-covered shed detonated, and a solid plane of blue energy shot out in two directions.  The first wave scythed backward, across Faith at just high enough to take a Dacith’s head off.  Entire buildings crashed down, and the Church Kin screamed as at least a handful were cut into pieces.

The second plane of energy had been aimed at the field, had a much tighter range, and greater intensity.  Trav hadn’t judged the aim perfectly, but the fringes of the powerful magic attack still caught the Rakshasa across the chest.  The Kin screamed and fell back.

The entire field was instantly covered in smoke after the beam had burned and superheated everything it touched.  Steam rose into the sky and the air smelled of ozone and burnt hair.  Trav gingerly got up, wincing.  He wondered if he’d broken a leg or a foot too.  With a grunted curse, he had just turned to begin limping to the distant tree line when a terrifying shadow loomed out of the smoke.

“Oh no you don’t,” hissed the Rakshasa.  One of the Kin’s eyes were missing, half his face was burned, and a deep cut extended all the way across his chest, even through the dark armor.  The Rakshasa grabbed Trav by his armor and effortlessly picked him up with one arm.  “I had to use everything I had not to die just now.”  The Kin grimaced and spat out a tooth.  “Taking you alive is not going to happen.  You died in the fight, unfortunately.  The Dead Masters will just need to understand.”

One of the Rakshasa’s hands dropped to his belt, and he drew a dagger.  Trav felt an echo of surprise when he saw the tip glowing, and recognized what it was—emberstone.

It was hard to think clearly, and only hate helped Trav avoid panicking.  He desperately tried to bring his spear to bear, but it was underneath the Rakshasa’s arm holding him, and he couldn’t get the right grip or leverage.

The feline monster grinned evilly, stared him right in the eye with his own remaining eye, and drove the blade into Trav’s side.

The world went white for a second.  Between seconds, Trav felt the power of the emberstone, and a resonance.  There was a sea of red around him, and he floated on it for a while.

Some part of him was screaming at him to wake up.  There was a thunderous boom, and Trav realized he was hearing his own heartbeat.  The emberstone was looming on the horizon, a well of crimson energy.  He drew a tiny bit of power out of the stone, just a drop.  It was enough to make him feel so nauseous he almost passed out again, but he pushed through and snapped awake.  If he’d been relying on his biological eye, it might have taken a while to focus, but his emberstone eye immediately focused.

He was still being held aloft, and the Rakshasa was shouting something.  The butt of Trav’s spear was in his armpit, and the dagger in his chest was on the other side.  Trav felt his anger beating in his ears like a drumbeat, and let it fill him.  He was not going to let one of these fuckers kill him, not after everything he’d been through.

Using his one good hand, he let go of his spear, pulled the emberstone dagger out of his own body, and slammed it into the gap in the Rakshasa’s armor, directly into the cut in his chest. He’d briefly thought about aiming for the bastard’s heart, but there was no need to get fancy, especially while Trav was struggling just to stay awake.

The Kin stiffened, turning his head, eyes wide in surprise.  “How—” he began.

“Fuck off, cat.  You’re dead.  Eat your own emberstone, bitch.”

The Rakshasa tried to reply, but collapsed, taking Trav with him.  Now that he was on the ground, Trav could feel approaching feet, and hear shouts too.  “Shit,” he sighed.  There was no way he was going to get out of here now, even with magic—at least not without risk.  He had less than half a bar of power left, his body was broken, and he was starting to feel his consciousness fade again. He might die anyway even if his last-ditch plan worked and he didn’t teleport into a lake or a dungeon somewhere.  Blood covered the entire side of his body.

He yanked the emberstone dagger out of the dead Rakshasa, put it in his belt, and called Hex.  Then he drew a circle around himself, trying to be as fast as possible, but also being careful to do it right.  His entire body was in agony, and he had to breathe deeply a couple of times to avoid passing out.  No matter how hard he tried, he was still feeling more light headed by the second.  Time was not his friend.

Finally, when he got the circle closed, Trav collected some of his blood on Hex, flicked it on himself, and said, “Random Teleport.”  He heard the shouts get louder, closer, as the world went sideways and he lost consciousness.

Chapter 8

Trav awoke covered in an unfamiliar bed, covered in bandages.  He lay still for a while, letting memories return, and kept his eyes closed.  Taking time to get his bearings was a habit he’d formed during his time as a slave, and when he finally remembered his fight and how he’d barely fled Faith with his life, he was glad for the automatic caution.

Then he registered dull, throbbing pain.

The room he was in had log walls, likely a cabin.  His bed was made in the same fashion, of logs dovetailed together, and he was lying on tanned furs over some sort of padding.  A crude skylight and a wax candle on a side table provided plenty of illumination.

As he examined his room, Trav caught sight of his gear, including his armor.  He felt a chill and reached under his blankets, verifying that he wasn’t wearing anything other than his underwear and an unfamiliar shirt.

He heard footsteps, and fully relaxed his face in time before his door was opened.  Under the covers, he silently willed Hex into his hand.  He doubted that someone would have patched him up and put him in bed just to hurt him later, but he didn’t plan to be unarmed in a strange situation if he could help it.

After a few seconds of uncertain breathing, a youthful voice said, “Are you awake?”  Trav didn’t answer, and the voice shouted, “Mother, I think he is awake!”

Larger footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, and the door squeaked as it fully opened.  This time, Trav felt something, a probing sensation, then a high, but husky voice said, “You can stop playing dead.  I know you are awake.”

Trav decided to err on the side of caution, and didn’t move a muscle.  He kept his breathing deep and regular, but his grip tightened on Hex and his full attention was focused on his hearing.

Suddenly, he saw text over his vision.  <Sorry you almost died earlier, but there wasn’t much I could do then.  But in this situation, she knows you are awake.  You should probably use your magical senses.  Trust me.>

Trav immediately recognized the communication as coming from the Oracle, and did as she’d said, opening himself in an unfamiliar way to sense using a power he hadn’t even had for half a year.

The presence before him was blinding, suffocating.  Trav’s eyes snapped open in panic and his arm came up defensively with Hex.  The weapon was charged with magic, and easily burned through the furs on its way up, filling the room with the acrid scent of charred flesh and hair.

In the doorway stood a large, modestly and plainly clothed Rakshasa female drying her hand on a rag.  Now that Trav was using all of his senses, he could tell she was practically swimming in power, but was suppressing it.

A Rakshasa boy behind her eeped, but the female absently patted his head and fixed Trav with a steely eye.  “Don’t burn my house down, human.  The only reason you are still alive is because my son asked me to save you, and sometimes he knows who and what will be important later.  I smelled the Rakshasa blood on you, but you are not a threat...to me.  If you annoy me, I will crush you.  Do we understand each other?”

As Trav stared, more text crossed his vision, obviously courtesy of the Oracle.  Over the heads of both the powerful female and the child floated, <Kyvendi Nobility>.

Trav stood still for several seconds as the female glared at him, still drying her hands.  His brain didn’t feel like it was working right, and he was considering either teleporting again or doing something, anything, other than just staring at an angry Rakshasa while he lay injured.

“Oh dead gods,” the female cursed.  Then in two lightning-fast strides, she was at Trav’s side, one hand gripping the wrist above Hex, the other on Trav’s throat.  Before he could do anything else, even think to struggle or use magic, she bent close to Trav’s face, her eyes locked with his.  Lips peeled back from huge, sharp teeth and she very softly said, “Now listen, human.  You may be strong, strong enough to fight a Rakshasa and perhaps even kill one.  The blood I smelled on you reeked of desperation and regret.  But not all Rakshasa are equal.  This is my home, I will not tolerate any violence, nor dangers to my son.  Understand?”

“Mother, stop.”  The boy’s clear, childish voice cut through the room with certainty, much different than how he’d sounded earlier.

“Rahim?”

The boy shook his head.  “He should be protected.  He will one day do you a great service, something you want with all of your heart.”

“You saw this, I mean, Saw it, right?”

“Yes.  Just like I told you before.”

“Fine.”  She let go of Trav’s throat and it suddenly felt like the weight of the entire world had left him.  His hand shot to his neck as he gasped for air.   Some part of his consciousness that was still working properly realized that she’d been putting the weight of her...aura, or magic power on him.  He wouldn’t have been able to use his own magic even if he’d thought to try.

The Rakshasa said, “Oh well.  I did not spend so much time and effort saving your weak, human body just to kill you anyway.  Being in exile doesn’t mean I cannot be civilized. Wash up.  We are having dinner soon.  There are clean towels and a water bowl under the bed.  A chamber pot, too.”  Then the powerful female swished out of the room, back straight.  “Come, Rahim!” she called.

Before he left, the Rakshasa boy, Rahim, laid a hand on Trav’s arm and said, “Please be patient with Mother.  She has been through many hardships, mostly for my sake.  Saving you was another of them.”

Trav stared after the both of them, and at the newly shut door in shock.  Nothing quite like this situation had ever happened before in his life.  Now that he was getting his faculties back and had opened his senses, he could feel the Rakshasa’s presence through the wall, a massive cyclone of power being suppressed by an unyielding will.  She was like a force of nature.  He had a feeling that the only being he’d ever met before that was this powerful might have been Kraachias, but he couldn’t be sure.  His magical senses were relatively new.

One thing was sure—fighting that monster was impossible as he was now.  He’d always known Rakshasas were strong—the one back in Faith had almost killed him.  But even with the emberstone dagger that he’d noticed was lying on the floor, he wouldn’t have a chance.

When Trav’s reason completely returned, he realized why he must have ended up here, wherever here was.  His borrowed memories helped him puzzle it out, and he knew in his bones it was true—this Rakshasa’s incredible well of magic was the answer.  Enough power had its own weight.  Even though she was suppressing it, her magic had its own force, like gravity.  When Trav had randomly teleported, he’d been drawn to her.

He was lucky to be alive, and hoped he could stay that way.  Lying in bed wasn’t going to change anything, so he painfully got up and began to ready for dinner with monsters.

***

“What is your name, human?” said the Rakshasa.  She’d finished chewing and had daintily patted her mouth with a cloth, somewhat at odds with her simple clothing and bestial attitude.

“Trav.”

“I am called Najila.  My son is named Rahim.”  After speaking the Kin tore into her meat again.

Now that he was at the table and thinking clearly Trav was fully feeling all of his wounds.  He’d healed fast, but was still definitely injured.  He studied the Kin more closely.

Najila had tiger stripes.  She was powerfully built, but still obviously female.  On both wrists she wore what looked like bronze bracelets.  Other than that, she didn’t seem very remarkable other than the fact that she was obviously Rakshasa and boiling with barely contained power.  At her belt, she wore a large, curved knife.

Rahim had dark skin and fur.  In fact, Trav realized that the boy actually had stripes too, but were barely visible because they blended in with the rest of his exposed body.  Rahim was wearing simple clothing like his mother.

Trav thoughtfully chewed a piece of bread as he studied the boy.  The way Rahim had talked to Najila earlier had been strange.  Right now the two were acting as Trav would expect a son and his mother to act, Kin or not.

“I have a question for you, Trav.  What are you?”  Najila fixed him with a direct yellow gaze, and Trav felt his bowels quiver.  Being in the presence of so much power was having an effect on him, like his bones were vibrating.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy.  You killed or at least badly wounded another Rakshasa.  That would not be possible for most humans, even one that had sold their soul for dark magic.  In fact, you are taking all of this rather well, waking up in a strange place and being threatened.”  She smiled at him, pulling her lips back so he could see her fangs.  “I must admit, I am beginning to be glad of Rahim’s request.  Look at us right now, speaking like this.  You are an interesting one, human.”

“I see.”  Trav kept his face blank of expression just in case Najila could read it.  She was unlike any Kin Trav had met so far, and his hackles felt like they were trying to crawl up to the top of his head.

Najila carefully retrieved up a carved toothpick from the wooden table with her claws, and picked her teeth as she studied Trav.  “The way I first met you was memorable, actually.  Yesterday I was teaching Rahim something in the forest, and after a burst of strange magic, you fell out of the air onto the ground.  You were a bloody mess!” She chuckled.

“You almost killed him,” stated Rahim.

“Yes, well, that is generally what you do when strangers pop out of thin air.”  Najila shrugged.

Trav blinked and decided to ask a question.  While his situation was strange and dangerous, he hadn’t survived up until now to be completely cowed by anyone or anything.  Besides, he needed information.  “Exile?”

“We will get to that.”  Najila waved dismissively and clicked her claws after setting her hand back on the table.  “I’ll tell you about us in a moment.  Right now I want to know about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Don’t play coy, human.  I am not asking your favorite color.  Why did you have Rakshasa blood all over you, and had obviously been in combat?  How did you appear out of nowhere?  Where do you come from? Why do you have such strange magic power leaking out of you?”

In his previous life, after being confronted and threatened by someone so much more powerful, Trav’s instinct might have been to back down or try to be friendly.  On Asgard, things were different.  He deliberately took a bite of the meat on his plate, and looked Najila in the eyes as much as he dared.  His focus was actually just an inch below and to the left of each fierce pupil, in case she would react to eye contact with violence, but he knew he’d made his point.

Najila growled.  “You are trying my patience.  Explain to me why I shouldn’t just rip your legs off to teach you some manners.”

“Because you let me know you’d be upset if I burned down your cabin, and I could easily do that as you killed me.”  Trav willed Hex into his hand, and casually set it down next to his plate.

The Kin woman growled as Rahim got up and placed a hand on her shoulder.  “Mother, I think this way is not working well.”

Trav’s eyebrows climbed as Najila sighed, seemed to deflate, and leaned back in her chair with more relaxed posture.  “I believe you are correct.  It makes sense that I could not deal with him like a normal human since he is not a normal human.”

“Huh?”  Trav was having a hard time following this sudden change.

As Rahim sat back down, he said, “Mother was acting tough.  She truly is powerful, Trav, but she is also a scholar.  If she were less thoughtful, she would not be here, and I would be dead.”

The Kin woman grunted, and Rahim smiled.  “She saved my life, and gave up everything.”

Najila sighed and drank a cup of water before twisting her face into an inhuman scowl.  “I wish you had been easier to deal with, like if you’d been bluffing about my house.”

“You could tell I wasn’t?”  Trav wasn’t entirely surprised, since he’d met Kin that could sense lies.

“Yes.  You were gathering magic.”

“Oh.”

Najila tapped a claw on the table, her head cocked to one side.  “If I tell you about us in good faith, will you tell us about yourself?”

“I...think.”

“Don’t misunderstand, human—Trav.  You are likely very powerful for a human, but I can still destroy you without much effort.  Of course, I wasn’t lying when I told you I wanted to avoid ruining my home.  It took a long time to build this shack.”

Rahim shook his head.  “I’d rather live here than back at the capital, Mother.”

“Yes, me too, but it would be nice if the food were better.”  She fixed Trav with a steely eye.  “The first thing you need to realize, is that I know more about you than you probably assume.  First, I know you can use rune magic.”

Trav thought he hid his surprise well, but Najila grinned at him.  She used a spoon to draw a quick, economic rune equation on the table that disappeared as a small dot of blue magic rose into the air above where it had been, soundlessly exploding into multicolored light.

“You are more than you seem, and I want to know what is hidden.  So this is our deal.  I am going to tell you the truth of my situation.  Then you are going to tell me about who you are.  My son has warned me that you are a person important to my future, but what I’m about to tell you is very sensitive.  If you refuse to play by my rules then, I will be forced to kill you, and this time I’m serious.”

“Mother—” began Rahim.

Najila shook her head.  “Son, you know this is necessary.  I respect your gift, but you said this human will help me, right?  If it will protect our secrets and our lives, I will accept inconveniencing myself, even though this human interests me.”

Rahim reluctantly nodded.

“Now, Trav, are you listening closely?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Do you know of Kyvendi, Trav?  The Asgardian country run by Rakshasa?”

“Yes.”  Trav nodded.

“Rahim and I are Kyvendi Nobles.  I am daughter of the king’s sister.”  Najila paused for a moment, then slowly nodded.  “You likely already knew something about this.  Interesting.”

Trav cursed inwardly as he realized he hadn’t reacted at all.

Najila drummed the tips of her claws on the wooden table, touching it just hard enough to make noise.  “And yet I am fairly sure you were not sent here, and your appearance was random.  Well, after I tell you our story, you can tell us yours...or die.  It will be your choice.”

Her son nodded gravely and said, “She is telling the truth.  Please listen.”

“We are in exile.  The Church wanted to execute Rahim because of his abilities.  When he was young and still very honest as children often are, he spoke the wrong truths to the wrong people and became a liability.  The rot runs deep, so the Church was able to influence several nobles to push for his execution, supposedly because he sullied the image of all Rakshasas by being weak.”  She scoffed.  “Rahim’s magic power may be lower than usual now, and he has spent his time on reading instead of clawing his cousins, but he is not weak.”

“Tell him where we are, Mother.”

Najila lifted a finger at him.  “Rahim and I had to flee in the middle of the night without any time to pack, even though we were supposedly legally banished.  Now we are living in the wilds of Demona, far enough away from Kyvendi to be out of mind, and far enough from any significant Demona cities that nobody should bother us.”

“So you built all of this by yourself?” asked Trav.

“Yes.  I’d never done it before, but I’d read books on the subject, so here we are.”

“Why didn’t you ask for exile, or I guess asylum with another country?  You are a noble, right?”

Najila laughed.  “If another country sheltered me it could have led to a war.  There are two reasons why Kyvendi assassins have not come for us.  One is that we are in another country, but the other is that I am not weak, and I know secrets that the Crown wants kept.  If they come for me, they’d better kill me.”  She snarled, and the sound made the air tremble.  Then she met Trav’s eyes, her predatory eyes unblinking.  “Your turn.”

Trav swallowed.  Before he began speaking, Najila said in a warning tone of voice, “You’d best include the fact you are Restless.”

The Rakshasa woman chuckled as Trav sputtered, completely losing his cool.  Her eyes glittered as she said, “Human, as I said, you should always assume I know more than you think I do.”

Trav felt like he was riding a razor’s edge.  He was going to need to give this Kin some truth, but there was no way he was going to tell her everything.  In that moment, he made a split-second decision to tell her that he was from another world, became Restless, and that he had a gift to know hidden things.  He wasn’t sure what kind of power Najila’s son had, but this explanation should sound plausible given Rahim’s ability.

There was no way he was going to tell the truth about the Oracle, or his identity as the bearer of Odin’s mantle, or more importantly, that his valkyries were out there, and they were coming for him.

He could feel Narnaste and the others through the bond.  If his calculations based on maps he’d seen were correct, they were all in Demona now, and working their way toward him.  They would arrive in about a week, and he would hopefully be completely healed by then.  He just needed to survive until they got there.

Trav wasn’t sure if Najila had the same ability to sense lies as Narnaste, but he was not going to take chances.  It was time to dance around the truth.

“I was not born on Asgard,” Trav began.  “But right after I got here, I was captured and made a slave—”

Chapter 9

Trav stared at the tip of his fishing pole and mentally checked the general position of his valkyries again.  They were definitely still alive, and he couldn’t feel any mortal danger, but they also hadn’t moved in days and he was beginning to wonder what was happening.  Despite the fact that they were Kin, they were his allies and he had come to terms with the fact he cared about them.

He suddenly felt a bite.  Trav snapped out of his brooding and set the hook before pulling in a fish.  The little lake he was fishing at had a surprising number of pan fish, which he knew by now were actually fairly delicious after being cooked with Najila’s mystery herbs that she seemed to scrounge from the surrounding forest.

Life could be strange.  Still, suddenly finding himself on Asgard, becoming a slave, and even receiving Odin’s mantle all paled in comparison to playing house with a Rakshasa and her son.

Trav shook his head as he reeled in his fish and dispatched it before putting it on a line with all the others.  He figured he had enough now and began walking back to the Rakshasa’s cabin.  After two weeks, he knew the path well.

Before he reached the building, he heard a distant banging and his newly exercised magical senses perked up.  He felt the movement of magical energies, something that seemed to happen every other day.  Every time he’d noticed it before, it had always been too late to investigate, but this was a good opportunity.  Trav placed his fish on an outdoor table outside where Rahim would clean them, and walked to the other side of the cabin.

Behind the building was a simple shed, but this was not where the banging was coming from.  Trav passed the shed before heading down some stone steps.  These handmade stairs had been carved out of a cliff by Najila using magic and brute strength.

The Rakshasa woman was very proud of her house.  Trav had learned about the various ways she’d made everything within the first week, actually even the first few days.  Sometimes he ruefully wondered if the real reason she’d saved his life and kept him alive was to show off her house.

Her pride made sense in a way.  She’d been someone important back in her country, before being banished.  It’s possible she’d never done a day of manual work in her life.  But everything in the wilderness—her cabin, the drying racks, the water well, all of it was hers in a way she might not have experienced before.

Of course, building a life in the middle of the untamed forest would be a lot harder for a human who had no magic, couldn’t chase down game on foot, and didn’t have the strength to easily break sticks the size of a man’s arm.  Kin had some natural advantages.  And on top of Najila being Rakshasa, an extremely powerful species of Kin, she was also ruling class, and she knew at least a few forms of magic.

At the bottom of the stairs, Trav glanced up and looked at the cabin from this lower vantage point.  He was closer to the lake now, and it was easy to see that that the cabin had been built at the top of a cliff.  Trav suspected that the view of the lake was why Najila had chosen the site to build on.

Where he was standing at the base of the cliff, at the bottom of the steps, was a workshop hollowed out of solid stone.  A week earlier when Trav had asked Najila why she hadn’t just built her house like she had the workshop, she’d said she originally had.  Her shop was her first attempt at a house, but it’d leaked.

The large door to the underground space was open, and Trav could see new, complex eddies of magic swirling through the air.  He’d been spending time and energy lately to refine his magical sight, and what he was witnessing now was fascinating.  The sound of hammer blows continued as he walked in, almost in a trance.

As he wandered forward, the ringing sound stopped and Najila’s voice pulled him out of his daze.  “If I were ever unsure before that you were not a normal human, now I would know.”

Trav’s mind snapped back into focus, and he cursed himself for losing his wariness.  Despite his living conditions being surprisingly comfortable, and Najila claiming he was not a prisoner, she was still Kin, and Rakshasa to boot.  The way he’d lost himself in curiosity about magic for a moment made him think about Odin’s mantle.  Was the old god’s will taking over?  Would letting his mind wander while studying magic truly be a thing Trav would do?

Out loud, he kept his face blank and asked, “What do you mean?”

She mutely pointed at a table to one side of the stony room and Trav noticed little metal boxes.  Most were closed, but a handful were open and he caught the telltale red glint of emberstone.  He blinked.  “You found me with my dagger.”  He patted the weapon where it rode in an improvised sheath attached to his belt.

“That is a worked weapon, enchanted, like what I’m trying to do here.”  She gestured to the workbench in front of her, complete with some metal components and another small piece of emberstone.  “Once enchanted items are made, they’re shielded to a degree.  Your dagger is very simple, but the red stone has still been shielded.  But any human walking into this cave right now should have felt sick immediately.”

Trav shrugged.  “Well, you already know I’m Restless.”  He moved closer.  “What are you doing?”

Najila grimaced.  “This work is how I remain useful, and maintain a connection to my past.”

Trav glanced around, taking in all the tools on the walls, the half-finished projects, and various weapons lying in pieces.  “Your craft enchanted items,” he stated, not asking a question.

“Yes.”

“Using emberstone…”  Trav shook his head as he walked through the room.  Using the crimson stone as a power source, at least with tools and weapons, had never occurred to him before.  Odin had never encountered much of it, but Trav knew the substance was practically bursting with magic.  He ambled over to a table near Najila’s workbench and raised his eyebrows after using his different forms of sight on it.  “I see, she used the emberstone as a battery…” he said under his breath.

“What?”

Speaking louder, Trav asked, “How do you mate the emberstone to the device it’s paired with?  They aren’t part of a whole, and likely aren’t permanently joined, right?  Runes shouldn’t work that way.  You need a single surface, or a single whole.”

Najila shook her head, her eyes unreadable.  “There is part of me, the part that is Rakshasa raised in Kyvendi that can’t believe I am having this conversation.  Years ago, I admit that I would have tried to destroy you out of a sense of duty.  But now, knowing how offended my teachers would be by a human that can walk among the red stone, who knows its secret name, and who can ask intelligent questions about enchanting—I am amused.”

Trav resisted taking a step back.  The Rakshasa hadn’t tried to hurt him since he’d been in her care, but after a very brief, very informal spar two days ago, he knew with absolute certainty that he’d be helpless in a real fight against her.  He tried to keep up his strong front.  “May I please know the trick?”  He tried to make his tone humble without sounding weak.

Finally, the Kin shrugged, and pointed at a magnifying glass.  “Take a look.”

First Trav studied a sharp, metal tool that Najila had likely been hitting with a hammer to sharpen, a scribe.  Then Trav bent down and studied what she’d been working on.  He immediately spotted her fine rune work, which was simple but well done.  Then he stood up with a gasp.  “It can’t be that simple, can it?”  He searched his borrowed memories as best he could, and felt a ripple, like a disquiet in his mantle.

He might have stumbled on something new that Odin had truly never known.

“Probably.  You need to build part of your glyph on or in the object you are enchanting, then part on the red stone.  They have to match up perfectly when you mate the pieces together, but this is what magically makes the parts into a whole.”

Trav slowly nodded, immediately understanding the theory and the significance.  He’d always known that emberstone had a lot of magic power and could be used to power enchantments, or even rune equations, but what he’d seen Najila working on—some sort of lighting tool—was being created to basically be used forever.  The way she was building the device made it clear that it would never need another power source and she expected it to function indefinitely.

“Emberstone really has that amount of power?” he wondered, but then remembered his escape from the mine.  There’d been enough power in the walls to level the mine with explosives too, right?

“Yes, and it has a limited ability to regenerate lost magic.”  She gave him a strange look.  “You know what it is, right?  What it really is?”

Trav answered honestly and didn’t feel embarrassed about it.  “No.”

Najila slowly nodded and kept her strange expression.  “Red stone, or emberstone is the petrified blood of ancient Titans, slain by the Restless, their children.”

The moment Trav heard what she had to say, ancient, jumbled memories buried deep in Odin’s mantle sprang to life.  Since several of them uncurled at once, and Trav hadn’t been expecting it, what he received was a confusing mess.

Flashes of violence, anger, betrayal, and bursts of power filled his mind until he shook his head and dispelled it.  Nothing quite like this had ever happened before, but he could feel the truth in what Najila had said.  Almost mechanically, he said, “Titans, creators of the Restless.”

“Their parents, or ancestors.”  Najila slowly shook her head. “The Church would find this whole conversation heretical, but they’d claim your very existence is impossible.  They are obviously full of shit.”

“Obviously,” said Trav with a grim smile.  “You’ve told me that Kin at the highest level, at least in your old country, have a kill-on-contact order for new Restless.  That sort of thing would hardly be possible unless those in power knew we exist.”

“Just so.  I was sworn to secrecy on the matter, but I have known the truth since I was young.”

“The thing I don’t understand,” Trav said slowly, “is what your rulers plan to do if a powerful Restless, like one of the originals find their way back here. It would invalidate the entire state religion of your country at the very least.”

“It’s not my country anymore,” answered Najila quickly, but she frowned.  “Every country on Asgard still has secrets, and relics.  The most powerful Kin may not be a match for the most powerful Restless—not even close—but the Restless themselves ironically have created some powerful tools to kill each other that others can use too.”  She shook her head.  “Some of this is speculation on my part, but the three main countries on Asgard have plenty of paranoia.  Since the masses live in hope of the gods returning, and those in power live in fear, I’m sure that they have plans.”

Trav examined what Najila had been working on again and asked, “Why are you doing all of this?  This is not a hobby, you have tools all over the place, and a fairly efficient-looking operation here.”

“Well, yes.”  She sighed.  “The full truth of why Rahim and I are left alone is because I am also too useful to kill.  Whenever a procession comes here from Kyvendi, I trade enchanted tools for supplies...at a loss.” Her face twisted.

“I...see.  So you are basically paying for your safety.”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”  Trav looked around and saw both Najila, and her situation, through different eyes.  She’d given up everything she had, and even toiled away in what looked like a repetitive job on top of what was necessary to just live in the wilderness.  No wonder she was so proud of the cabin she’d built.  “You must really love your son.”

“Yes.”  She flashed her teeth.  “But how could I be worthy of life if I didn’t?  Don’t misunderstand, the fact he is my son matters a great deal, but you have spent time with Rahim.  Does he deserve to die, especially only for the fact he was born with a gift that others can’t understand?”

Trav slowly shook his head.  Despite being Kin, the little boy had been growing on him.  He couldn’t believe there would be a Rakshasa in this world, even a child, who could be so...nice.  So far, Rahim didn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body.

“I have protected Rahim.  After realizing he would never be accepted by others of my kind, I have allowed him to find his own path.  At this point, being out in this untamed place, I have seen the truth that I made the right choice.  Maybe...maybe there is a different way for the Rakshasa to live.”  Her eyes snapped up, and suddenly she was twice Trav’s weight of feline fury, hair bristling.  “I will never allow anyone to harm Rahim!”

Out of nowhere, power unfurled from the Kin, obvious to Trav’s magical sight.  It cloaked her, growing stronger.

Najila’s fierce love and protective instinct beat on the air, no doubt being fueled by her magic.  Her eyes were wild, and lips began pulling back from teeth as she stared at nothing.  The conversation had obviously triggered something primal.  Not for the first time, Trav was reminded that he was not talking to a woman, or even a normal Kin.  Najila was Rakshasa and her moods were unpredictable at best.

He gestured downward and softly said, “Simmer down, mama bear.  You saved my life, so I owe you a debt.”  Najila glared at him, and Trav began to truly get the picture that this Kin woman had been through so much, she was likely to go apeshit at the drop of a hat, at least where her son was concerned.  For some reason, she’d likely just begun wondering if he was a threat.

And unlike other times she’d begun getting worked up, this time Rahim was not here to calm her down.

Trav looked Najila right in the eyes, back straight.  In this situation, he could speak from the heart, and likely still say exactly what this crazy Kin wanted to hear.  He coughed and said, “Since I owe you a debt, I promise that so long as I am here, I will assist you in protecting Rahim to the best of my ability.”

“Swear it!”

“I swear.”  As soon as the words left his mouth, Trav felt something move in his mantle and thought, uh oh, what did I just do?

“Good!”  Suddenly all the tension left the air and Najila smiled.  “While you are here, you may use my workshop if you’d like.”

Trav blinked at the sudden change, and released tension he hadn’t known he had.  Najila hadn’t been cruel, or antagonistic before, just...business-like.  Now she was almost acting friendly.  “Are you sure?  A lot of this looks expensive and delicate.”

“If you break anything, I will break you, of course.”  She smiled, and Trav wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.  Trav decided he would be careful either way.

“Where do you get all of this emberstone?” he asked, gesturing at little bins of the stuff.

“I get all of it now when the convoy arrives to resupply me.”

“Oh.”  Trav suddenly realized where at least some of the emberstone he’d mined for years had been going.  He studied the bins of it all around the cave workshop, waiting to be used, and he no longer felt as odd about taking advantage of Najila’s invitation.  How many people had he met, and grown to care about had died while mining this stuff?

He gently picked up a piece the size of his pinky nail and said, “I guess I’ll give it a try.”

Chapter 10

“Let’s see,” Trav mumbled to himself.  “Ah.  Narnaste is next. Yeah.”  He sketched a design on a thick piece of paper with a charcoal pencil, thinking about what he could build that would complement his valkyrie best.

For the last ten days, other than chipping in to help contribute around the cabin, Trav had been working in Najila’s workshop.  At first, she’d been indulgent.  Then, it’d been obvious he was starting to get on her nerves by always being in her personal space.  But by the end of the second day, he’d figured out how to reproduce most of the tools she was making to trade with the convoy from her former country.  Then he’d worked all that night, completely filling her quota.

She’d been mildly surprised, but Najila was a practical sort of Kin.  Since she didn’t need to work on enchanting anymore before the resupply convoy visited next, Trav then had the workshop to himself.

He’d been experimenting.

Whether Odin’s mantle was having an influence on his motivations or not, in this instance, he wouldn’t be able to tell, and didn’t care.  Even his pre-Asgard self would have found this interesting.  Enchanting was fascinating and Trav liked to build things—he’d even done a few steelwork odd jobs back in the US.  In Najila’s workshop he’d even begun forging, using snippets of his own knowledge and the deep well of Odin’s memories to begin creating proper tools and weapons for his valkyrie team.

The valkyries had all finally begun moving toward his position about a week ago.  Trav felt relieved that he’d be reunited with them—he was willing to admit he’d missed them.

He’d already made a new bow for Ysintrill with an enchantment to basically double her draw strength using the same energy, and even adjust it.  She would also receive a belt knife that had been reinforced and would sharpen itself.

For Yaakova, he’d focused on utility—the harpy really didn’t need any weapons.  He’d crafted a necklace to help keep her dry, hopefully even if she was in her bird form.  He’d been working on a communicator for her too, a way for her to actually talk to him while she was scouting, but he hadn’t completely solved that problem yet.

Jang-mi was not a valkyrie, just a friend, but Trav wanted to do something for her, too.  He’d crafted her a set of bracers made of leather and steel.  If she crossed both bracers over her body, they would generate a short-lived, but powerful shield against magic and projectiles.

Now he was working on a new weapon for Narnaste.  After having watched how she fought several times, he knew just the thing for her.  As a giant wolf she didn’t need much help, but in her original form, in tight spaces, she could use a better weapon than what she currently carried.

Trav used rune magic and Hex to work with the steel he’d found in Najila’s shop.  Just like he had before, he’d found magic to be a great way to speed up crafting simple tools.  However, this time, he wanted to make something special.

Rune magic could make blacksmithing more convenient, but there was no shortcut to understanding how steel behaved.

He’d toyed with the idea of experimenting with the composition of the steel that Najila had on hand in her workshop.  Then he’d changed his mind.  After testing it, he’d decided it was actually of decent quality and not worth his time to enhance.    There was doubtlessly better steel back on Earth, but he had access to magic here.  The materials he had to use would be good enough.

Trav summoned Hex from his belt and inscribed a complex rune equation on a large copper ring that he’d found lying around, and on a pair of leather gloves.  The enchantment on the gloves wouldn’t last long, but would be good enough.  He built a fire in the forging area, then positioned the ring near it.  It was set up to fuel the enchantment Trav had placed on it by absorbing heat and then processing it in complex ways.

The bucket of water that Najila doubtlessly used for quenching her own blacksmithing projects wasn’t big enough for what Trav wanted to do, so with the help of some magic and the clay by the shore of the nearby lake, he built a new bucket from enchanted earthenware. This new quench tank was tough enough to handle massive changes in temperature and a small rune equation on the container would help make his job easier, too.

There were several hammers in the little workshop, but Trav chose two, then enchanted them with a couple of simple rune equations.  They’d be powered by the kinetic energy of swinging them, which Trav privately congratulated himself as a clever thing to do.

A bar of steel seemed to be ideal for the project that Trav had in mind, so he put on his gloves, grabbed the material, and ran it through the copper ring.  As he passed the steel through the ring, he mentally triggered one portion of its enchantment, and the steel in his hands instantly heated up to red hot.  He didn’t need to test it with a magnet to know it was hot enough to work with.

His gloves had been enchanted to easily withstand the heat of the red-hot steel.  The rest of Trav’s body hadn’t been, though.  He’d overlooked the problem but it was easy to solve.  He just held the steel in one hand, summoned Hex with the other, and made a quick temporary rune equation in the air to protect him from fire and heat.  The magic didn’t even require that much energy before it began working.

Then it was a simple matter to draw out the steel, using the enchanted hammer.  Once the basic shape of the blade and tang had been completed, Trav began fashioning a simple, cup-shaped guard.  The guard and pommel didn’t take long, and after that he worked on cleaning up the blade.

Since he could magically enhance his tools to be more effective, and he’d done similar crafting before, he had the basic parts of a rapier crafted far faster than he’d expected.

Next he adjusted his copper ring, and prepared for one of the most cheat-like uses of magic he’d come up with.  One more pass through the ring made the blade steel white-hot, and another pass had rapidly cooled and annealed the metal.

Najila had a number of files around the shop.  Trav selected a few, and gave them all temporary hardness and efficiency enchantments.  Then it was a simple matter to shape all the metal parts he’d crafted, removing material as easily as clay.

He used the copper ring again after this, bringing the steel up to the proper temperature for hardening.  Using a small washer, he crafted a simple device that would let him know if he had reached a good temperature for the steel he was using.  He did a few passes through the copper ring, heating up all the steel relatively slowly until it was ready for quenching.  Then he checked the enchantment he’d placed on it.  “Good,” he said, nodding with a smile.

This entire process seriously felt like cheating now.

Trav dunked the blade into the quench tank, and didn’t even feel slightly worried about a warp.  The rune equation on the tank itself would prevent any warping, and helped to create the exact sort of steel composition he wanted.

After that, Trav tempered the blade three times until he was satisfied.  Making magical tools out of random scraps around the workshop took a lot of the guesswork out of the process.  For instance, the thermometer that Trav rigged up from some bronze scraps was far more accurate than anything he’d ever used before on Earth.

When it was time to finish the sword up, Trav used his enchanted files, changing their efficiency whenever he needed to.  He also enchanted a ratty cloth to polish the blade with only a few passes.  When the components of the sword were complete, he used rune magic to mate all the pieces together, fusing the entire weapon together as if it were one object, even the wooden grip.  Without magic, this would not have been possible.

Sharpening the blade was stupidly easy using magic.  Trav put the entire sword in a vice, and used a magically enhanced stone to create a wicked edge, then some mundane leather to strop the blade.  The rapier he was making was meant to be a thrusting weapon, but Narnaste was strong, and it’d be a shame not to give it an edge.  He’d made the blade with a very strong, diamond cross section, but had also kept the blade wide enough to have a cutting edge.  Since he was making the weapon for a superhuman Kin woman, allowing the sword to be a little heavier than a normal rapier hadn’t been a problem.

For Narnaste, this weapon would still be relatively light, and most importantly, still very well balanced.  The simple knuckle guard and bell-shaped guard would protect her hand.

The last step took far more attention than Trav had spent on all the other steps of making the sword, combined.  Fusing the parts of the sword together made it easier to enchant using emberstone, but still tricky.  He carefully inscribed half the rune equation on an emberstone nugget, the other half on the butt of the hilt.  The enchantment would make the sword extremely tough, better at penetrating, difficult to dull, and most importantly, highly magically resistant.

As Trav worked on the rune equation, he decided that if the sword was to have a name, it would need to be something about piercing, or stabbing.  The blade would probably penetrate right through most magical shields, maybe even armor.  Trav might not be as strong as Odin had been in the ancient past, but the rapier he was almost finished with, while plain-looking, would be incredibly deadly.

Once all the rune equations had been painstakingly finished, Trav carefully attached the emberstone to the butt of the weapon, then enclosed the sparkling red stone with a thin shell of enchanted steel he’d made.  He’d had a chance to study Najila’s enchanted weapons earlier, and while she was right that the emberstone was shielded, the last step he’d just taken would hide the magical nature of this sword unless it was actually being used.

Trav was not an expert with a rapier, and neither would be Narnaste at first, but she was a fast learner. Trav had never seen a weapon quite like this one on Asgard before, likely because a mundane rapier would be too delicate for Kin to fight with.  He held up the glittering sword and its deadly point twinkled, flashing with the magic-powered overhead lights in the workshop.  It had grown dark outside a while ago, and since the shop had been occupied, the lights had automatically come on.

Najila might not be anywhere near as good with rune magic as Trav, but what she could do had surprised him sometimes.

A light clapping behind Trav spun him around, and he cocked an eyebrow at Rahim.  The Rakshasa boy seemed to have been sitting on a barrel in the corner, watching him, and Trav hadn’t even noticed.  “What is that?”

“A sword.”

Rahim rolled his eyes, and in his normal, serious tone responded, “I can see that, Mister Trav.  What kind?  It looks like a spear, but a sword.  Who is it for?”

“It’s called a rapier, but what makes you think I made it for anyone in particular?”

“Mama always says that people work better and are more focused when they are doing something for someone else.  I watched you make a few things a few days ago, but today you were really working hard.”

Trav didn’t really know how to respond to that, so he shrugged and spoke the truth.  “I made it for someone in my family.”

“On Asgard?”

“Yeah.”

“Are they one of the people you are waiting for?”

Trav blinked and one of his legs almost gave out from surprise.  He absently searched behind him with a groping hand before sitting down on a dishing stump.  The concave dip in the wood that helped forge out curves was not very comfortable. “What?”

“You are waiting for someone, right?  Mama says it’s probably a group.”

“Why...why hasn’t she said anything about this to me?”

Rahim gave him a strange look.  “It’s obvious.  She was ready to follow you, or talk you into coming back if you ran away since I Saw that you should be near us.  You never ran away, though, or even tried to journey very far.  Mama said you were probably waiting for someone, especially since you got a weird look on your face sometimes.  Then the last few days you’ve been making weapons and tools that don’t seem to be for you, and probably aren’t going to sell them, so…”  The boy’s voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“And you and your mother aren’t worried?”

“Why would we be?”  Rahim looked even more confused than before.  “Mama is very, very strong.  I don’t mean any offense, but if Mama isn’t worried, I’m not either.  Besides, I think you are a good person, Mister Trav.”

Trav stared for a few seconds before chuckling and gathering his things.  He ruffled the fur on the top of Rahim’s head as he passed and said, “Let’s go to the cabin.  It’s about the time your mother makes dinner, right?”  Trav was actually looking forward to what Najila had made, and shook his head as he closed up the shop.

“Yeah, we should go,” sighed Rahim.  “Mama doesn’t let me in here very often to watch her work.  She says I ask too many questions sometimes.  I hope I can learn to make things too one day.  Mama is good at it.  I just hope that one day she can make things for herself instead of the bad people from the capital.”

Trav nodded absently and mentally checked the position of his valkyries as he climbed the steps to the cabin.  Now they were only a few days away, max.  His time at the cabin was about to come to an end, and he was surprised by how bittersweet this realization was beginning to make him feel.

***

As Najila had put the finishing touches on dinner, she had made it very clear that Trav’s job was to sit at the table and not annoy her.  He’d obediently stayed put, and begun thinking about Rahim’s gift, his foresight.  Hey, he thought inwardly.  Oracle!  Can Rahim really see the future?  Why are you being so quiet?

<We agreed that I should conserve power.  You have not needed my help.  The Rakshasa saved your life, which was good for both of us, especially after you were stupid enough to challenge one to a fight.>

That only answered part of my question, thought Trav.

<I...don’t entirely understand the boy, which is something that hasn’t happened often, and I am using what energy I can to research the matter.  You should leave alone so I can get back to it.  I have limited resources.>

Fine, fine, thought Trav.  Anything else I should know?

<Nothing you can change, so there is no point in talking about it,> replied the Oracle.

Trav thought the answer was shady, and he mentally asked more questions but didn’t get any further responses.  He was feeling irritated and confused when Najila called Rahim over to help her bring dinner to the table.

The entire time Trav had lived at the cabin, Najila had expected everyone to be at the table for dinner.  Surprisingly, Trav hadn’t minded this arrangement.  Najila turned out to be an interesting and knowledgeable conversationalist.  The Rakshasa woman liked to alternate between asking Trav questions about Earth, or playing chess with Rahim.  Trav had played a few times, but whether he played against the boy or his mother, he always got destroyed.

This night was a little bit different.  “So,” began Trav as he tried a bit of his wild potatoes.  “I talked to Rahim, and he said you believe I’m waiting for someone.”

“Or something,” confirmed Najila without looking up.  She was busy tearing into some roasted rabbit.  “The fact that you are waiting is obvious.”

Trav stared at the Kin woman intensely, wondering what else she might know.  She must have felt his gaze because she looked up, her yellow eyes flashing.  “What?”

“How powerful are you really, Najila?”

“Why?”

“Curiosity.”

“I doubt that.  You are probably wondering if the people you are waiting for could overpower me.”  She shook her feline head.  “The answer is likely no.  Before I left Kyvendi, I was one of the top 10 most powerful Rakshasa in the country, maybe among the top five.”

“And where does Kraachias fall on this ranking?”

The Kin woman’s eyes flashed.  “How do you know that name?”

“He killed my wife.”

“Oh.”  Najila unsheathed her claws and drummed them on the table.  “Rahim, go to your room, and do not listen to this conversation.  Go to bed.”

“But I’m not done eating yet!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, my son.  If you do this thing, I will give you as much food as you can eat for lunch, and even make cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, alright.”  Rahim got up slowly, furiously stuffing food into his mouth as he did.  When the boy was heading to the hallway toward his little room, he suddenly moved to the side and gave Trav a hug.  “Good night Mister Trav,” he mumbled as best he could.

“Good night Rahim.”  Trav awkwardly patted the boy’s arm at first, then just gave him a quick, but sincere hug before sending him toward the hallway with a little push.  When he looked back at Najila, she was smiling slightly, watching her son go.

As soon as they heard his door shut, Najila’s eyes snapped to Trav.  “Kraachias is definitely within the top five, probably in the top three.  He is like an army unto himself.  If you seek revenge, you should give up on it.  Most of the rulers of Kyvendi are not only powerful in their own right, they have their own private armies, too.  I learned about this much too late, that by myself, I was not nearly as...resourceful as I had liked to believe.”

“How does the actual leadership of Kyvendi work?  You’ve never explained it before.”

“No, I haven’t, and I won’t.  You are not an enemy of mine, but you are likely an enemy of my country.  Even though I am an outcast, I cannot tell some stray human all the secrets of my home.  For me to willingly be a traitor, despite being an outcast, would require more than just a stranger’s curiosity.”

Trav slowly shook his head.  “But it’s not your home, not anymore.  You wouldn’t be a traitor, you’re basically paying for your peace, right?  And—” he paused, searching his feelings, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into words.  Then he examined what he was going to say, making sure it was true.  Despite sounding cheesy in his head, he said out loud, “You might not tell a stranger, but what about a...friend?”

“The kind of friend I would tell my secrets would not keep secrets from me.”  Najila very deliberately took a bite of meat, putting her sharp teeth on display.  “Most of what I truly know about you, I reasoned or figured out myself.  You have told me about Earth, but very little of yourself, of who you are, and what you plan to do.  What you are asking of me is to tell you my entire story, more or less.”

“Oh, I see.”  And Trav did understand.  Najila had saved his life—he already owed her, but then again, maybe he’d paid for that by agreeing to protect Rahim.  He still wasn’t sure what exactly that might mean in the future.  There had obviously been some sort of mystical significance in the promise he’d made.

Trav thought about what he knew about Najila.  He was quiet for a while as he pondered, but eventually accepted the reality that was staring him the face.  Najila was smart, strong, and honorable.  If he were being honest with himself, he respected her.  Against the odds, Trav had made his first non-valkyrie, Kin friend on Asgard, and she’d somehow turned out to be Rakshasa.

He briefly thought about the lizardman back at Faith, the one he’d judged harshly, and unfairly.

Najila was right, friendship was a two-way street, and Trav needed to begin trusting people outside his inner circle at some point, why not now?  “Alright, so it’s like this…” Trav told Najila everything that night, omitting almost nothing.  The entire time he spoke, she was silent.

After Trav was done talking, Najila flicked her ears.  “You are on a hard path, Travis Sterling.  However, if your trials do not kill you, you may truly become a being that shakes the world.  Maybe one day you can make Kraachias answer for his crimes.”  She paused.  “I appreciate what you have done here, even if it was calculated to get the information you want.  The truth is, my life has become...more fun since you have lived here.  Rahim is happy, too.”  She nodded.  “I have decided.  My family has disowned me, now they use me.  I’ve never had to make this choice before, but I am not afraid of it.  I will tell you what you would like to know.  Just do not forget your promise—about Rahim.”

Trav shook his head.  Despite being Rakshasa, he still couldn’t understand why anyone would want to harm the little boy.  There didn’t seem to be a mean bone in Rahim’s body.

That night, Najila told Trav her story.  He had a feeling she was still leaving parts out, like who Rahim’s father was.  But what she did tell him was full of sorrow and sacrifice.  She shared dark secrets of the Kyvendi government, and Trav grew to understand Najila much better.

Rakshasa or not, he was glad he’d made the choice to trust her, and he was proud to call her friend now.  This woman had truly stopped at nothing to protect her son.  She was much easier to figure out after understanding that it wasn’t a ruse—her entire world truly revolved around protecting Rahim.

Trav was somewhat surprised at the fury he felt himself while imagining someone trying to hurt the boy, especially after learning about how he’d been bullied and abused by his own family.  Asgard was a brutal place, but it really didn’t have to be that way.  Its leaders, the most powerful Kin seemed dedicated to making the world as shitty as possible for humans and fellow Kin alike.  Humans got the worst of it, but Trav was beginning to understand that many Kin lived miserable lives too.

One thing Trav used to believe had definitely changed.  Now he didn’t believe that all Rakshasa deserved to die—just most of them.

Chapter 11

Trav had been poking around the workshop in the morning, which was his usual way to start the day, when Najila came by with a cart.  She began collecting all the enchanted tools she and Trav had made.

“What are you doing?” he asked.  He’d been trying to puzzle out how to make a shield that either grew in size, or provided a larger area of protection through magic, but hadn’t had much luck so far.  Odin had known the basics of making rune-enchanted weapons and armor, but hadn’t been interested in learning to do it himself.  It was incredible that as long as the old god lived, and as much as he’d known, he definitely hadn’t known everything.

From the fragments of Odin’s memories that Trav could examine on the subject, Odin had preferred to spend his time on other things, and relied on dwarves and other experts for magic gear.  For Odin, knowing things seemed to be his greatest motivator.  Actually being good at anything was another matter—magic seemed to be the exception to that rule.

Najila examined a wand, made a face, and put it in the cart.  “Today is the day I need to trade for my freedom.  I do not enjoy needing to do this, nor the exchange itself.  The officials that come from Kyvendi are usually...not pleasant.”

“Oh.”  Trav wasn’t exactly sure what to say.  “Need any help?”

“No.  My situation is already awkward.  If I arrive at the meeting spot with a human, the best we could hope for is the delegation killing you and walking away.”

“That doesn’t sound like a best-case scenario to me,” Trav said, voice flat.

“Exactly.  I would prefer—” Najila kept rummaging around and putting things in her cart before she finished her sentence.  “Rahim and I have grown accustomed to you living with us.  If you were to die, I would grieve.”

Trav blinked.  This development was unexpected.  His eyebrows climbed into his hairline when she continued, “I am sometimes...restless when you hug Rahim.  Do not worry, I am not unhappy with you.  Rather, we are...friends now, correct?  Friends huh, yes?”  Her voice was soft, but her claws were flexing.

“Hugs?”  Rahim was still small, and had a very thoughtful, affectionate personality.  It hadn’t felt weird to Trav in the slightest to hug the kid.  Najila on the other hand was massive, like an upright bear, and looked something like a giant, walking lioness.  He approached her slowly, and as he put his arms around her she went stiff as a board, her tail swishing and twitching behind her.  “Alright,” he said.  “Be careful.”

The Kin woman coughed and her ears rapidly swiveled back and forth before she gathered up a few more things into her cart and began to leave.  “Don’t follow me, Restless.  Again, I would prefer you do not die.  And Rahim...he has never had a friend before, either.  I know you are important to him.”

“Uh, alright.”  Trav watched her go, then went back to planning his new build.  He believed Najila that the Kin caravan would kill him without hesitation.  The safest place for him was likely in the workshop.

And he only had a few more days until his valkyries arrived.  It would be nice to see them all again.  Luckily, they were also approaching from a different direction than the caravan from Najila’s home country.

Everything seemed to be working out.  Spending so much time in the wilderness had helped Trav in some ways he couldn’t even articulate yet, but he could feel a change.  Living simply had been good for him.  He was ready to go, though.

Out of habit, he reached out for Tiffany’s pocket dimension, and like every other time he’d tried since he’d been saved by Najila, the mystical pathway was blocked, locked to him.  He’d been thinking about it for weeks, and reasoned that Tiffany had locked the portal—she likely couldn’t visit her seat of power herself, either.  Trav had no idea why she’d do such a thing.

“I wonder what the hell is going on with the girls,” he wondered out loud.  Through his connection with the valkyries, he didn’t feel like they were under any abnormal stress, or fear, so he was not expecting trouble.  “Weird,” he sighed, and got back to work.  Since Najila was about to sell or give away most of her stock of enchanted items, Trav decided to start working today on filling it back up again.

He got the feeling that the powerful Kin woman had been able to spend a lot more time with her son lately, and both of them had been happier for it.

***

Trav had almost been in a trance, working on an enchanted necklace when he felt the ground rumble.  His eyes snapped open, his senses alert, and he definitely heard another boom through the closed shop doors.

During his time with Najila and her son, Trav had made several sets of armor for himself and stored them in the areas he most frequently spent time at.  He could feel another rumble through his feet as he donned his armor.

Before he threw open the doors to the workshop, Trav checked his magic, actually reviewing his resources and missed a step.  “I have another bar of power?”  He could scarcely believe it, but he wasn’t mistaken.  Now he had another bar of available power that he hadn’t had two weeks ago.

No time to think about it, but I’m not complaining, he thought.  He grabbed his spear, made sure his weapons were strapped correctly, and made his exit.  Once outside the workshop, he saw Rahim hurrying down the stone steps from the cabin above.  “Mister Trav!  The noises!  Mother!”

A crackling explosion punctuated the boy’s words, and smoke began to rise in the distance.  “Mister Trav!  It’s coming from the direction Mother went, where she makes the trades!”  Rahim’s eyes were swimming with tears, his furry face strained.  All of the youth’s normal maturity and even-tempered personality had cracked.

Trav eyed Rahim, making several quick decisions.  The boy was Kin, and a Rakshasa, but he was also just a child.  He had never killed before, and more importantly, any enemies would also be Kin—Kin that were actually fighting Najila.  Decision made, Trav barked out, “Hide in the workshop.  Close and lock the doors.  Find a weapon, and be prepared to use it if you must.”

“But Mister Trav—”

“Now.  I made a promise to your mother.”

“You will help her?”

“Yes.”

Rahim cried as he hurried down the steps, his tail streaming behind him.  After the boy was safely in the workshop Trav’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted his entire demeanor.  A few weeks of no stress had dulled his edge.  He felt a sense of loss as he let go of the peace he’d begun to feel lately, but doing so was surprisingly easy.  Maybe he was too wounded and broken now to ever enjoy the kind of life most people longed for.

He summoned Hex and inscribed a rune equation into midair, touching his chest with one last line.  Trav hadn’t pre-loaded these new buffs he’d formulated into Hex yet, and regretted the oversight.

The shot of power he suddenly felt wouldn’t last very long, only an hour at most, but it would make him as fast as any of his valkyries.  Another rune equation made him tougher, more resistant to damage.  Both buffs had used up more than a bar of power, but he had a little extra energy to burn, so he wasn’t going to skimp.

Trav remembered his fight with the Rakshasa at Faith, and grimaced before spending another bar of power on buffs.  Now his reflexes were sharper, his sense of time was slower, his balance had gotten better, and his senses had been improved—but not enough to overwhelm him.  The last spell had been something he’d been working on for a week, but the practice had paid off.

He began to run, taking huge, bounding strides as he raced through the forest.  The path Najila took her little cart down for her trades was easy to follow, as was the sounds of violence, but Trav wasn’t stupid enough to take the easy trail.  Instead, he darted into the shade beneath the surrounding trees, using his superhuman strength and agility to easily clear obstacles that would slow him down and cause more noise.

What am I doing, he thought.  Najila is Kin.  I have no idea what I’m running into!  After he’d had the thought, Trav thought of Rahim’s crying face.  He remembered how terrible his wounds had been before Najila had saved his life.  Over the last few weeks, he’d thought about the odds of randomly teleporting near enough to someone, anyone who would and could help him.  Maybe meeting Najila had been fated.

Either way, he felt ashamed for the question he’d just asked himself.  He owed the Rakshasa woman, and just as importantly, she was his friend.  Cowards die many deaths.  By all rights, Trav should have died a long time ago.  If he refused to do what was right, the bare minimum it took not to be a completely selfish piece of shit, he didn’t want to live with himself.

This time, doing what was right meant helping a Kin, and a Rakshasa to boot.

Trav had a total of thirteen bars of power now, and seven were still tied up in permanent enhancements.  If he survived this fight, he planned to add to that number.  He knew how strong Najila was.  If she was still fighting, he wondered what he could actually do to help, but he had to try.

Of the six bars of power he’d had available for spells, he’d just used up a little over two of them to buff himself.  This was roughly twice what he’d used before his fight with the Rakshasa back in Faith.

He burst through the tree line and dodged just in time to avoid being swept up in a gout of flame.  “Fuck!”  Trav took two more quick bounds, assessing the situation even as he darted to the side.

The fact that Najila was still alive was good, but everything else seemed pretty grim.  She was obviously wounded, bleeding heavily.  The front of her blouse was slick with blood, and she’d taken heavy damage on each limb.  There were dead Kin all over the valley where she had always traded enchanted gear, and most of the trees on the opposite side were on fire.  A hole had been blown in the treeline to Trav’s right, and craters dotted the ground.

Three feral-looking, heavily muscled Kin were chasing Najila.  They were all shrouded in a visible veil of magic, throwing destructive energies.  Trav thought the three attackers looked sort of like hyenas, and they kept trying to close with the unarmed Najila with melee weapons.  One of them kept blowing fire around the valley, and had accidentally almost taken Trav out the moment he’d arrived.

On the other side of the valley stood a smug-looking male Rakshasa in a robe—wearing the colors of the Church.  His fur was red with stripes.

Near Trav, a group of several Dacith pointed wands and rods at Najila.  She was too fast for them to hit, but that didn’t stop them.  All the rat-like creatures chanted and threw destructive magic at Trav’s friend.  A Kin of a different species, something reptilian and wearing a hat, stood near the Dacith.  The Kin with the hat had glowing claws raised, maintaining some sort of shield.

Trav immediately understood that all these bastards working together were harrying Najila until she either dropped from exhaustion or blood loss.  It looked like she’d already killed a dozen, though.  The level she was fighting at was something Trav had never seen before.  His hair raised, a physical reaction from the sheer power buzzing through the air.

Any one of the three Kin attacking Najila would likely rip Trav apart in a heartbeat, but she was fighting three at once, and dodging spells.  She flew around the valley, using incredible, magic-assisted acrobatics even while wounded.  One of the three hyena Kin made a mistake that Trav wouldn’t have even been able to see if he hadn’t enhanced himself.

Najila snarled and threw out a hand, casting a sizzling bolt of white energy at the vulnerable Kin.  Before the attack struck, a shield flared, protecting the creature.  Its eyes had widened in shock and fear before the shield had materialized.  It seemed surprised to still be alive, then narrowed its eyes.  Trav reasoned that it hadn’t been responsible for protecting itself.

When Trav used his magical sight and noticed a glow fading from the smug Rakshasa on the other side of the valley, he understood.

This group had come here to kill Najila.  They hadn’t brought any Kin powerful enough to face her alone, but they had turned up with a Rakshasa she couldn’t immediately kill, one that could protect the others.  It was a dirty trick, but seemed to be effective.  Judging from all the dead Kin on the ground and when Trav had first heard combat, this had been going on a while.  As impressive as Najila was, she had likely been sharper at the start of the fight.

With the help of Odin’s memories, Trav could tell she was on her last legs now.  The amount of power she was giving off, and the abilities she was demonstrating were far above Trav’s level now.

He knew how to help, though.  In fact, it would be his pleasure.  He really, really hated Dacith, after all.

Trav sprang forward, wind whistling in his ears before he planted his spear through the hat-wearing Kin.  Stabbing an enemy in the back wasn’t very honorable, but at that moment,  Trav didn’t give a shit.

He summoned Hex, pointed at the nearby Dacith, and before the rat fucks even had time to be concerned, he thundered, “Chain Lightning!”  This time, after the first attack, he didn’t pause to see what had happened, he hit them again.  “Chain Lightning!”

The entire battlefield suddenly became aware of Trav’s presence, and when the enemy Rakshasa’s eyes landed on him, Trav felt like he’d suddenly been plunged in ice water that weighed a million pounds.  The Kin had so much magic power, Trav felt like the air around him had grown so thick he almost couldn’t breathe.

Meanwhile, several more Dacith stepped out of the trees, all grinning nastily at him.  Trav swallowed.

He hadn’t been ready for this level of combat.  Not even close.

Chapter 12

Trav had a few bars of power left, almost four, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to act for much longer, not with the enemy Rakshasa suppressing him.  He did what made the most sense, going for one, big attack that used up all of his remaining magic.  Hex came up and through gritted teeth, he announced, “Death Blossom.”  As he used his will to push the rune spell into life, he let his eyes run over all his living enemies.

Then magic burst from his body.  A halo of purple energy crystalized into the image of a flower with razor-sharp edges—then with a great whooshing crack it broke, and petals of magic shot out like homing missiles.

Trav had experimented with flashy magic before and had decided that most of it wasn’t worthwhile, at least not with the levels of power he had now.  This spell had been something new he’d gotten out of Odin’s memories within the last few weeks and had practiced while fishing.  He’d taken the time to work on his focus, aim, and magic regeneration.

Normally, Death Blossom would still be a wasteful, energy-guzzling spell that wouldn’t be worth using, but this situation was different.  Trav would likely get a single chance to act before he died horribly, so he’d had to make his contribution count.

The purple petals shot from Trav like buzzing arrows of destructive energy, and he just focused on maintaining the spell.  Growing pressure from the Rakshasa didn’t matter now, only Trav’s will and his remaining magic.  Trav didn’t need to think, just keep juice flowing to his attack.  Before the remaining enemy Dacith could even raise their weapons, petals from Trav’s Death Blossom slammed into their heads, punching holes or making their skulls explode.

A petal sped for the enemy Rakshasa, and the big, feline Kin brushed away the destructive energy.  But then another came, and another.  All the enemy Kin began either defending themselves or dodging Trav’s attack.  Meanwhile, Najila was finally left alone, able to breathe for a moment, and it was all she needed.

Moving faster than Trav would have been able to see with unenhanced eyes, she blurred toward one of the distracted jackal Kin, seized his weapon, and tore out his throat with her claws.  Then she kicked, and light flashed.  The stricken fighter fell to the ground, one shoulder and most of his ribs missing.  The wound smoked.

Najila was armed now.

Trav wondered how she hadn’t had a weapon before, but quickly realized she had.  Broken blades littered the valley, most of them burned or melted.  Trav could only assume that the enemy Rakshasa had been responsible, and right now the bastard was busy protecting himself from Trav’s magic.

The weaker Kin fighters that had stepped out of the trees were all dead.  Only the stronger enemies were still alive.  Unfortunately, Trav’s available power was running out fast.  He could probably only maintain Death Blossom for a few more seconds.  “Hurry,” he hissed.  He briefly took direct control of two petals from his channeled attack, directing them into the ground near the Rakshasa male’s feet.  The white-hot energy blew dirt into the air, superheating parts of it, creating smoke.  Trav couldn’t really hurt the fucker, but he could try to blind him.

Maybe Najila had heard Trav.  She shot toward the last two jackal Kin, utilizing the fact that Trav’s magic wouldn’t target her.  One of the jackals tried to fight back, but without the enemy Rakshasa’s assistance, he fell to Najila’s new sword in seconds.  The last jackal tried to flee, but Najila was on him like a flash, her sword going through his chest at the same time her powerful jaws latched onto the back of his neck.

Trav’s power ran out.

The stricken jackal Kin squealed as it died, but Najila had already disappeared into the smoke.  Trav could hear a struggle, and when the smoke cleared he saw his friend struggling with the enemy Rakshasa.  She had him in some kind of submission hold from behind, but the two of them were trembling as they fought, and it was obvious that the wounded Najila was ultimately going to lose.

“Trav,” she yelled.  Then she took a labored breath and shouted, “Use Shatter!”

“But—”

“Now!” she screamed.  “Remember your promise, human!  I will die either way!”

Trav felt a strange compulsion, and knew it was magical.  His oath had been important after all.  But even without it, he could face the reality of the situation and knew what he had to do.

“Shatter” was what he’d named his modified and improved spear.  Najila knew its name, and knew what it could do. The spear had already been better than almost anything a Kin on Asgard would have as a basic weapon, but Trav had improved it further.  Now there was emberstone attached to the butt of the shaft, protected and shielded by a steel cover, and the magic ran all the way to the tip.

Shatter had a twin effect now, one that was very powerful, but also very taxing on the weapon.  If Trav willed it, the spear could penetrate defenses—both magical and mundane—and disrupt his target’s magical field.  He’d gotten the idea from the rapier he’d made for Narnaste, and his past fight against a flesh golem.

The enchantment Trav had placed on Shatter could be used six times a day at its lowest setting, once at its highest setting, or any combination in between.  But using its power any more than this per day would risk destroying the spear.

Trav didn’t like what Najila was begging him to do, but he truly understood, and he accepted it.  The world seemed to hold its breath, growing silent as he sprang forward.  The Rakshasa male didn’t recognize the danger until the last moment.  His head turned and his eyes bored into Trav, creating pressure and suppression through sheer force of power or will, but it was too late.

Shatter had already been activated at full power.  Trav’s hands were locked on the shaft, and he was barreling forward with his most powerful leap, all his body weight behind his thrust.  The force of the Rakshasa’s gaze hit, freezing him, but inertia and gravity took care of the rest.

Shatter’s point punched through the Rakshasa’s armor and body like it was made of wet paper, all the way through.  Behind his enemy, Trav saw Najila stiffen and his heart dropped.  Rage bloomed in his heart, fueled by despair, and the moment his body was free to move, his hand dropped to his emberstone-tipped dagger.

Trav drew his short blade and slammed it into the red-furred Rakshasa twice before his stricken enemy managed to kick him away.  The blow had been glancing, not a solid strike in the slightest, but still almost broke all the ribs on one side of Trav’s body.  He rolled across the ground, trying his best to protect his body.

A big rock was moving right toward his head, but there wasn’t much he could do other than try to slow himself down.  Luckily, when he hit, it didn’t kill him, but it did make him see stars for a while until he shakily got to his feet.  Without the magical buffs he’d cast on himself before racing here, either the kick or the rock probably would have killed him.

Trav must have been knocked unconscious for a moment, because the big male Rakshasa was already dead.  Najila had moved out from under the corpse, and also pulled Shatter out of her own body.  The powerful Kin woman slowly stood.  She bled terribly, and one leg trembled, but she met Trav’s eyes with a steady gaze.

“Oh no.”  Trav felt sick when he saw the state of his friend’s ruined body.  Shatter had gone right through her stomach.  He stumbled over and croaked, “What are you doing!  You shouldn’t have taken it out.  I can go get bandages—”

“No.  Do not dishonor either of us by acting weak and stupid, Travis Sterling,” admonished Najila.  “I was poisoned and I was dying already.   Now it is just more obvious.  I am glad you missed my lungs so we could speak.”

After a slow nod, Trav conceded the point.  “You’re right.  Okay, what happened?”

“Ambushed, obviously.  Netish made me demonstrate some of the enchanted wands, and took the opportunity to blow a cloud of poison on me at the same time that the Dacith used darts.  I was able to avoid most of it, but some of the poison got me.  These whorescum,” she said, kicking the body of a jackal Kin, “were using poisoned blades too.  Oh yes, it’s some terrible, evil concoction.  Nothing they did would have been enough to kill me by itself, but the combination was unfortunately very effective.  I cannot stay awake much longer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  It was probably only a matter of time before they turned on me.  Alive, I was a great liability, even as a slave making weapons.  In fact, only the fact I’d been so wary allowed me to live long enough to fight back in the first place today.”

She shuddered and slowly lowered herself to a sitting position.  Trav paled as he imagined how much pain she must be in.  Behind her, the fire among the trees began to spread.  “Sit,” she instructed, patting the ground beside her.  Trav sat.

Najila stared at the smoke-filled sky.  “The last couple of weeks have been some of the best of my life, because I knew that I did not have to worry about Rahim so much.  Thank you for making your promise to watch after him.”

“Of course.”  Trav’s eyes had grown wet, and he was having trouble speaking.  He’d seen a lot of death on Asgard, but the way Najila was facing it now, unflinching, was brave—perhaps even noble.

“There is something you must know, Travis Sterling, Odin mantle-bearer.  I do not wish to tell you, though.”

“What?”

“I just said I do not wish to tell you.”  She smiled softly.

“You mentioned it, so you are going to tell me anyway, though, right?”

“Yes. Rahim’s father is your wife’s murderer.”

“I know.”

She turned in surprise, making a fresh wave of blood gush from her wounds.  “You did?”

“I’d always suspected, and after you told me about how the Kyvendi government is run, I was pretty sure.  But I would be the last person to judge a boy by his father.  My cousin’s father, Josh Sterling, is a piece of shit. Ash and I have had our differences, but I never held his father, my uncle against him.  It wasn’t his fault.”

“I see.”  She coughed wetly.  “And you will honor your promise?  You will not abandon Rahim?”

“Yes.”  Trav grinned without humor.  “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

“There is always a choice, but there are usually consequences too.”  Najila leaned back slowly until she was on her back with her knees up.  “I can’t feel anything anymore.  The time is probably soon.  Rahim is always correct with his predictions, but he was really accurate this time, wasn’t he?  You truly did me a great service, gave me what I wanted with all my heart.  Netish is dead—”

“That was Netish?  The same one that tried to kill Rahim before, right before you escaped Kyvendi?”

She grinned, showing bloody fangs. “Yes! And hopefully the mangy swine will rot in the underworld.  But more importantly, I know that Rahim won’t be alone now.  I can rest easy.”

Trav choked out, “I’m—Thank you for saving my life.”

“Thank you for saving my future, my friend Travis Sterling.  You are not so bad for a human.”

Trav turned to speak, but shut his mouth.  He slowly closed Najila’s sightless eyes and whispered, “You weren’t so bad for a Rakshasa, either.”

***

The forest was on fire, and it was spreading quickly.  Trav had gathered up what enchanted weapons and anything of value that he’d found scattered around the valley, at least what he could easily carry, then he’d picked up Najila’s corpse and headed back to the cabin.  It was a shame he had to leave behind so many valuable magical artifacts, but if he really needed to, he could just make more.  He was confident now that he could at least match any enchanted items produced on Asgard.

Najila’s blood was running down his body, and her weight was incredible, but there was no way he was going to leave his friend in the killing field with all the would-be assassins.  There was no way he would have been able to manage this feat without the magical enhancements he’d cast on himself.

Trav pushed himself, sweat and gore running down his face.  His muscles strained.  Smoke poured between trees, and depending on how the wind was blowing, he had to hold his breath or risk passing out.  His heart felt like a stone.  There would be time to grieve later.

When Trav got back to the cabin, he hurried inside, laying Najila’s body respectfully on the kitchen table.  Then he grabbed a sheet off the bed, making a bag out of the fabric, and began cramming useful objects and tools into the makeshift container.  He didn’t have much time left before his magical, enhanced strength faded.  After that, he’d still be stronger than a normal human, but it had already been a long day.

Once he had a good first load, Trav hurried down the stone steps, opening the door to the workshop.  He’d expected to find Rahim standing with a weapon, prepared to defend himself, but instead, the boy was curled up, crying in the corner.

He must know.  Trav became aware of his appearance, how gruesome he must look covered in blood, dirt, and burns.

“Mister Trav, my mother.  She’s dead isn’t she?”

“Yes.  But we are safe, and she was at peace with how things turned out.”  Trav was glad that telling the truth was probably the most comforting thing he could think to do.

“I—”  Sobs echoed around the room.

“Your mother’s body is in the cabin.  The forest is on fire and I don’t think we can save the building.  I’m out of power and it’s safer to stay down here.  Do you—” Trav felt awkward, which on top of his adrenaline and his own grief, made him feel lightheaded.  “Do you want to go up and say goodbye?”

Trav waited patiently for Rahim to answer.  Finally, the boy replied, “No.  And I think it’s a good idea to leave her there.  She—” It took him a while to get himself under control again.  “She loved the cabin.  It is a good place for—”  Rahim didn’t speak again.

“I understand,” Trav said softly.  He turned and hurried up the stone steps.  The fire had almost reached the cabin now, and the wind was blowing the flames, helping it spread.  He’d already grabbed pots, pans, and other basic necessities to live.  This time Trav threw food and some of Rahim’s things into a new bag made of sheets.

As he passed the table one last time, he laid a hand on Najila’s cooling hand and said, “Rest in peace.  You were probably one of the strongest people I’ve ever met in my life.  I will do as I promised and look after Rahim.”  Something echoed through Trav’s mantle, like a gong, and he felt right—a feeling he had a hard time wrapping his head around.

Before he left the cabin, Trav carefully gathered up the chess board.

On his way down the stone steps, some of his emotional control cracked, and he snarled then savagely thought, Hey Oracle!  Were you planning to clue me in to any of this?

He was not surprised when the reply came immediately.

<There was nothing I could do.  Also, informing you of certain things might have changed the future.  This was the best outcome I could see in all the possible threads.  Sometimes the best thing I can do is to hold my own counsel.  Especially when the future is muddy, interfering can cause terrible consequences.>

Trav almost sent an angry reply, but calmed himself.  Sometimes you just had to roll with the punches.  It wouldn’t help anyone, especially Rahim, if Trav didn’t keep his head on straight.  He had a lot to do before his valkyries arrived.

Everything had changed...again.

Chapter 13

The valkyries arrived almost a day earlier than Trav had predicted, likely hurrying after they’d felt he was in mortal danger.  He was making a few guesses, still not entirely sure how the bond worked—at least on their end.  When he saw them show up, he also got a good idea of what the holdup had been a couple weeks prior.

In fact, if not for the bond with his valkyries, he still would have heard them all arrive—they’d made quite a racket.  A large group of harpies had all moved directly to the workshop cave, marching in step, and the moment they’d crashed to a halt, Narnaste had come flying out of their midst with Yaakova and Ysintrill following a bit slower.  All three of the valkyries had slowed when they’d seen Trav standing with the nervous Rahim behind him.

Trav carefully observed the ranks of Kin.  Now that they were closer, he could tell they weren’t all harpies.  There were a few other species of Kin here and there, a type Trav had never seen before with demonic features and horns.  This was definitely a military detachment, but Trav knew they were fairly weak, low in the food chain.  Whether this knowledge was coming from his own memories or Odin’s wasn’t important at the moment.

Narnaste collided with Trav.  “Master! Thank the skies.”  She sighed and quivered with emotion.

Trav put an arm around her waist and asked, “Where’s Tiffany?”

The valkyries shifted uncomfortably, all but Yaakova.  “She is being held, New One.”

“What—” began Trav.

Ysintrill burst out, “Chief, why is the forest around here burned?  Parts are still smoking!  What happened?”

Trav eyed her and turned to regard the lines of harpy soldiers.  Most of them looked bored, but he saw several that seemed nervous, and a few more that had a look he knew from Odin’s memories.  He was beginning to understand how he’d gotten an extra bar of power.

There was a certain amount of tension in the air, part awkwardness, part expectation, and part Kin power plays.  He had a feeling that some sort of pecking order needed to be established with all the new harpies.  “We have a lot to talk about.  Narn, Kova, Trill, you can come into the workshop.  Let’s get caught up.”

Suddenly, one of the harpy soldiers, a big female with long feathers and an ornate headdress stepped forward.  A second figure also stepped out from the ranks of soldiers, a male Kin with horns and sharp teeth.  The Harpy said, “Travis Sterling, I presume.”  She flashed a predatory smile, likely trying to be intimidating.  “We have traveled a long way to meet.  I must insist you speak with us first.”

Yaakova frowned, and her feathers bristled.  Ysintrill looked away.

Trav eyed the harpy.  “Who are you?”

The harpy’s nostrils flared and she declared, “I am Captain Bravoosa.  After being placed in charge of this detachment, I have—”

Trav had already used his newly honed magical senses to size the captain up.  He judged that she was a little stronger than Yaakova had been when he’d first met her, so nothing to sneeze at.  She was armed too.  But Trav had changed, even within the last two days.  Of his six bars of available power, he’d used three of them on new, permanent enhancements.

Since Trav knew how Kin thought, how they operated, he used one of his new abilities.  He let his thoughts grow unfocused, moving magic throughout his body, and stepped through the shadows at his feet.  Then he willed himself to emerge from the shadow behind Bravoosa.

The entire process took a tiny fraction of a second, and would probably look instantaneous.  Trav made sure not to be threatening with his weapons, but he pitched his voice down and said, “Captain Bravoosa, I am in a very bad mood.  Within the last two days I have fought a small army of Kyvendi soldiers, including a ruling-class Rakshasa.  I also had to watch my friend die.  So I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you don’t know who I am, but you need to let me talk to my group right now, without making a fuss, or we are going to have a problem.  Do you understand?”

Branding himself with Shadowwalk had cost Trav a full two bars of power, but it would grow as he did.  After a lot of thought, he’d realized that giving himself this permanent power now, while he was still relatively weak, would give him the most benefit in the future.

And now he could move faster, and be more sneaky, more unpredictable.

The harpy captain had recoiled and her eyes dilated when Trav Shadowwalked.  As she’d listened to him speak, feathers near her neck flared, and she began to tense, as if she might attack or do something else equally dumb.  Trav merely moved his wrist, a tiny, precise movement that brought his spear’s blade at the same level as the harpy’s neck.  “This is not open for discussion.”

Trav gave all the rest of the unfamiliar Kin a flat look.  He got a number of different expressions back, which was not unexpected.  Being spoken to like this by a human was probably not an everyday thing for them.

“Master,” began Narnaste, but Trav cut her off with a forestalling hand.  He was fairly sure now that his valkyries had likely brokered some sort of deal with the harpies, but Trav knew Kin, and he’d realized something important over the last couple days as he grieved with Rahim.

It was time to lead.  Being neutral was not an option, not on Asgard and likely not in this universe.  He’d accepted pieces of this realization before, but he’d never seen the full picture.  Now he understood the price of his mantle, and he was going to dictate the way these harpies were going to interact with him right off the bat.

In fact, it’s likely what Najila would have done.

The captain didn’t speak, and none of the other harpies did either.  Trav knew enough about Yaakova’s home country to know that Bravoosa was likely unsure of how to react, so she was staying silent to save face.

“Who are you?” Trav asked the demonic-looking Kin.

“I am Minister Roony, and I represent the Demona government.  My job is to help oversee the ongoing harpy leadership transition.”

“Ah.”  Now that Trav knew the Kin was an official from Demona, it was easy to guess he was of the Demona race, the overlords of the country the Demona controlled, Demona. They were apparently powerful and organized, but not so great at naming things.

He turned and said, “Yaakova, Narnaste, and Ysintrill, come with me.  Rahim as well.  Minister Roony and Captain Bravoosa, I will try to make this fast.”

The group of harpies seemed stunned for a second, and Bravoosa sputtered, “We traveled all this distance just to find you an—”

“Yes, and thank you.  Now you can wait a few more minutes.  I haven’t seen my family for a while.”  Trav led Rahim and his valkyries into the workshop.  He caught a glimpse of Yaakova’s expression. She was suppressing a smile and her eyes practically glowed at him.

The moment they were all through the doors, Trav pulled Hex, touched the wall, and said, “Fortify.”  Glowing runes flashed against the floor, the ceiling, the doors, and every wall.

“What is all this?” asked Ysintrill, gesturing at the door.

Trav turned to face her, and gave her a hug.  “This means we are all safe for the moment.  The walls are warded, powerful magic.  Nobody can hear us outside this room, either, even if they put an ear to the door.”

All three valkyries looked at Trav like he was a puzzle to solve.  “You’ve changed, Master,” murmured Narnaste.  She gently pulled Ysintrill away, moving slowly into an embrace.  Trav stroked her hair.

“Who is the Rakshasa cub?” asked Yaakova.

“That is Rahim.  He is my nephew, my ward, I guess.”

Narnaste moved closer to the boy.  “He really is Rakshasa.”  Her voice full of wonder, she said, “Master, what happened?”

Trav pulled up some simple chairs he’d made, and said, “Alright.  We’ll start with me, then get to your story.  As you can probably guess, I left Tiffany’s realm in the middle of the attack on Faith—”

He told the story in the most economical, but accurate way he knew how.  The valkyries had differing reactions when he recalled how he’d killed the Rakshasa and other Kin fighters outside of Faith.  They’d also wanted to see the dagger that Trav still carried.

Over the last couple days, Trav had already told Rahim everything that had happened, so none of it was news to the boy.  After Trav had accepted his responsibility, and his new relationship with Rahim, he’d realized they were more or less family now.  This meant Trav was not going to keep too many secrets—not if he didn’t have to.

When he was done catching up his valkyries, Ysintrill shook her head.  “Chief, I can hardly believe so much has happened, and I wish I could have met Najila.  She sounded incredible.”

Trav nodded, feeling a wave of deep sadness wash over his heart.  Out the corner of his eye, he noticed Rahim lower his head. “Yes, but everything that happened, has helped me realize some things.  It gave me focus.”

“What do you mean?” asked Narnaste.

Trav narrowed his eyes.  “As you all know, I have wanted revenge for...various things.  But now I can see the real problem.  Kin are suffering too.  Kyvendi is a shithole of a country, which has helped me accept what I was avoiding before.  It’s really not very likely to just take down an individual or two.  Even if I could, it wouldn’t change anything.  Nope, it’s got to be the entire country.”

“The country?  So you are going to conquer Kyvendi?”  Yaakova asked with a slight smile.

Trav didn’t dance around his answer.  “Yes.  I’ve already realized I can’t exactly just hide, and all my other goals haven’t changed, but it’s time to accept what I am.  Odin bought the farm because he was wandering around by himself.  I’m not going to make the same mistake.  It’s time to create something, build something, and if I can gut the murderous fucks who deserve it on the way, that’s a major bonus.”

“So you have accepted that the Kin are not all your enemies, Chief?” asked Ysintrill.

“I suppose so, yes.”  Trav made a face.  “Well, except the Dacith.  Maybe we can wipe all of them out.”

“That might be genocide, Chief.”  Ysintrill frowned.

“I know,” growled Trav.  “When I can, I’m going to try to do what’s right, and try to be fair.  But Dacith can all choke on some poison.  We’ll just have to see if I ever meet one that isn’t actively trying to kill people weaker than they are.”

Yaakova chuckled.  “Now the spark has become a fire.  I am happy to see this change, New One!”

Trav eyed her.  He still had complicated feelings about the harpy, but he was starting to understand Kin better, and for better or for worse, they were bonded now.

“So what’s next, Chief.”  Ysintrill eyed the workshop.  “And what is all of this?”

“This was Najila’s workshop.  Now it’s mine.  And what’s next is I give you all your tools and weapons I’ve made for you while you tell me what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks.”

Trav moved to the canvas-covered bundle of weapons, and after opening it with a flourish, he explained what everything did as he handed them out.  Narnaste’s eyes were huge as she ran her eyes over the blade of her new sword, then with Trav’s instructions, she made a practice lunge.

Yaakova cooed and admired her bracelets before sitting down.  “This room is truly warded against sound?”

“Yes.  It’s also gated.”  Trav smiled at his valkyries’ confused expressions.  “I have set up one half of a rune equation to instantly travel here in the future.  This will be my safehouse.”

“Ah.  I did not even know such a thing was possible.  It is beyond the realm of known magic now, but you do not follow such rules.”  Yaakova smoothed her feathers and gestured for everyone to sit down before asking, “Shall I begin our story?”  She made eye contact with Ysintrill and Narnaste.

“Yes.”  Ysintrill nodded.  “You can probably get the details right better than we can.”

Narnaste nodded. “Go ahead.”  She scooted her seat closer to Trav’s, and turned toward the door.  Her demeanor changed in an instant, and Trav was seeing the cold, fierce Kin woman he’d first met.  She was guarding the room, and taking her job seriously.

“When the attack began on Faith, you’d been gone for a while already, and—”

Trav held up a hand.  “Yeah, I already know that part.  Please start from when you had already escaped.”

Yaakova nodded.  “So be it, New One.  We traveled for the better part of a day.  At first we tried to move away from other groups, but then we noticed that many of the other escapees were heading toward a small mountain, maybe a big hill.  We reasoned this would be a good rally point, and there was safety in numbers, we linked up with one group, and followed them.  It turned out all the refugees were heading toward a glyph hop.”

“Is that like a teleporter?”

“Yes, but teleporters are stuff of legend.  The glyph hop just moves everything in its circle, and up to a certain amount of weight, and glyph hops have limited range.  This one had a combination, meant for escape, and put us near the border with Demona.”

“That’s where we were near when I first met you, right?”

Yaakova made a face.  “Yes, New One. So—”

Trav frowned.  “You mentioned sacrifices.  What sacrifice?”

“Some of the oldest magic relics require blood, or a sacrifice of life for power.  The glyph hop worked after we sacrificed a couple cattle.”

“Oh.”

“And before you ask, yes, humans have been used in the past to power them, there is no way that anyone from Faith would use humans when they are part of the community, and especially not when several High Masters have been human.”

Small favors I guess, thought Trav.  He motioned the harpy to continue with his hands. Blood sacrifices using people would just be another thing he’d change after burning the current government to the ground.

Yaakova nodded.  “Many things happened, but an overview is that we met up with my family.  You remember I told you about how the harpies govern?”

Trav nodded.  “I think.  The harpies are all led by the strongest species, the plains harpies, or Bernacians—which is what you call yourselves.  Bernacia is like a province in Demona, the actual country, but Demona are lazy and unorganized.  They get a lot of their military power from your tribes, so you have a lot of freedom.  Every ten years, all three Bernacian tribes have a contest for who is going to compete for the leadership of all Bernacia, correct?”

“More or less, yes.  I am from the East Tribe. My family was the ruling family for the East Tribe, and my half sister had the royal tree.  This time around...my family has won the guiding tree, and my younger half sister is the guide.” She frowned.  “All of this is a little complex, and the politics have many levels.  Once we all made it to my hometown, we were in talks for many days as I tried to secure help to reach you.”

Ysintrill nodded.  “We had no idea what your situation was or if you would be in danger.  After you moved so far so fast, all we knew is that you were in the deep wilderness.”

“I wanted to come after you in my wolf form, but the others talked me out of it.”  Narnaste left her seat to stand beside Trav and lean against him.  “I am sorry for the hardship you have suffered.”

Trav shook his head.  “It wasn’t hardship, at least not most of it.  And yes, my friend was murdered and I almost died too, but I’m not sure if things would have gone differently if you’d been here.”  He gestured at Rahim.  “And Rahim is a good boy.  He is the one who has truly suffered hardships.”  All the valkyries focusing on him seemed to make Rahim shy.  The fur on his neck bristled and he looked at the floor.

After absently putting an arm around Narnaste’s hips, Trav nodded at Yaakova.  “Could you explain the soldiers outside?”

“I was getting to that, New One.”  Yaakova gave Trav’s arm around Narnaste a single expressionless look and crossed her arms.  “My little sister is the Guide.  My older sister, the current Royal, is not taking this well, as she wanted to compete for the royal tree.  Luckily, I was not even there at the time, so nobody is angry at me, not even my family.”

“So your family was the second family the last time that the Royal succession happened, right?” asked Trav.  “That’s why your family has been leading your tribe, even though your half sister was the Royal.  She was part of a different family in your tribe?”

“Correct.  The problem now is that my family has weak military power, and the current Royal, Greeda, should be supporting us, but she’s not.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.  If your family wins the royal tree, won’t Greeda’s family lead your tribe?  Her family would get your tribe’s guiding tree, and she’d likely still be in charge, right?”

“Probably, but she is being spiteful and illogical.”  Yaakova began to pace.  “This is a major problem, not only for my family, but for us.  The Northern tribe is very strong, and they may be working with the Southern tribe to weaken the Eastern Tribe.  So the succession is in question, and as a result, so was our mission to find you.  My family did not want to spare the soldiers to accompany us as guards.”

“Oh. I can see where this is going,” sighed Trav.

“Yes, New One.  My younger sister Hravalin desperately needs aid to secure the royal tree, and I promised her my help in exchange for hers.”

Trav shook his head.  “Why does she need help so badly?  If another Guide wins the royal tree, won’t she still be a Guide?”

“Technically, but her position is already very weak.  This year, the Guides were chosen based on wisdom.  The contest for the royal tree will likely be more...straightforward.  If my family is seen as weak, my entire tribe could be absorbed or destroyed by the other two larger tribes.  And with the current Royal Greeda not supporting my tribe for whatever reason, it puts us in an even worse situation.”

“Wow.  Politics on Earth suck, but harpy politics are wild too.  So what about Tiffany?  Where is she?”

Yaakova’s nostrils flared.  “New One, I must apologize.  My younger half sister saw reason, but we have other factions in my family that are less helpful.  Finally, Tiffany agreed to stay behind as collateral.  Jang-mi stayed with her.  This series of events led to our group finally leaving to find you.”

“I see.”  Trav felt a pulse of anger, and suppressed it.  He wasn’t sure what Tiffany meant to him yet, but he’d be damned if any uppity harpy took away his little family just to make a point.  This would require some clever moves on his part, he could tell.  He stood from his seat and stared at the ceiling for a while.  “Rahim.”

“Yes Mister Trav?”

“Have you seen anything, anything that might help me here?”

The Rakshasa boy laced his fingers.  “The only thing I saw was about Captain Bravoosa.  She can help you a lot one day, I’m sure of it.”

Around the room, the valkyries looked confused, but Trav decided to tell them about Rahim’s abilities later, before they all left the workshop.  He nodded slowly.  “I’m not entirely surprised.  Okay, we can’t talk about any of this after we leave the workshop, but this place is secure.  But before we leave, I want to have a plan.”

“Do you have something in mind, Chief?” Ysintrill stood, bow in hand.

“As a matter of fact, I do.  It’s time to start playing Monopoly.”

“What’s that?”

“A game where you try to control everything.”  Trav smiled at Yaakova.  “Maybe we can help you, help your family, and get all the resources we need in one shot.”

The harpy showed her teeth.  “I like the sound of this already.”

“Now, Narnaste.  Well, I’m assuming it was Narnaste, we have something to discuss.”

“Yes Master?”  The canine Kin’s ears moved and she cocked her head.

“Who all have you been preaching to, and how many new Faithful have you converted?”

As Narnaste sputtered, Yaakova snorted and Ysintrill chuckled.

Faith, thought Trav.  He clenched one fist.  This little trip might help me build some Faith Power.  He liked the sound of that.

Chapter 14

Trav woke up, untangling himself from a half-asleep Ysintrill and stretched.  He’d been getting better at building shelters out of magic.  The entire way back to harpy territory, he’d built a base camp of walls, two large domes for the soldiers, a building for latrines, and several smaller buildings for him and his valkyries every night.  At first it’d been difficult, expending a lot of his magical resources, but he’d streamlined the process.  Now Hex was loaded with all of the appropriate rune equations.

Sunlight filtered in through the small porthole of glass that Trav had created from sand found in the soil.  Each building had one, which allowed for some light without requiring vulnerable openings.  Of course, he could tailor the buildings to still have openings if he wanted.

The trip so far had been uneventful, which had suited Trav just fine.  He’d been learning all he could about harpy culture and the larger country, Demona.  There were four Demona in this military detachment, and three were male.  Trav had learned that male Demona often worked hard and made deals back in their capital to get an assignment to Bernacia, where all harpies were female and many of them could be...feisty.

Each of the Demona males had a number of harpies who were more than willing to share a bedroll on the outskirts of camp, or even take their chances in the dark.  One of them had even been shameless enough to ask Trav for a private shelter of his own.  A bit of weak lightning in the ass had given him a burn—and his answer.

Oddly enough, Minister Roony, the Demona in charge of all the Demona officials, had seemed to approve of Trav’s reaction.

“Chief, come back.”  Ysintrill sleepily patted the bedroll next to her.  “Let’s rest for a few more minutes.  We have a long day.”

“Yeah, but that’s why I need to get up.”  Trav stroked her hair fondly, moving the back of his hand to the dark skin of her arm.  “You’re very beautiful, you know that?”

“Yes.  But I don’t mind if you tell me some more.”  Ysintrill smiled.  “Are you sure we need to get up?”

“Unfortunately.  Dawn is in about half an hour.  We probably already slept too long.  I need to get the kitchen set up and the ovens hot.”

“Why do you have to do it?  Can’t the harpies do it?”

Trav gave her a hard look.  “You know the answer to that, Trill.”

The valkyrie seemed to focus a bit and nodded soberly.  Over a week earlier, before they’d left the workshop, Trav had let his inner circle in on his plan.  He needed power.  Humans or Kin worshipping him still didn’t sit right, and likely never would, but he at least needed their faith.  By making a show of how easy it was for him to make life better for those around him, he hoped that Narnaste’s subtle attempts at Faithful conversion would be more successful, and so far it had worked.

Trav had a total of fourteen bars of magical power now.  Of his total, he had ten bars dedicated to permanent enhancements, including his first, two-bar upgrade, “Overall Strength,” Ventrilomagic, Air Scribing, a magic shield, two bars in a focus and renewal ability, Shadowwalk, one bar spent on reaction time, and a single bar spent in mental toughness.  Hopefully, he’d be able to withstand the magical pressure of beings out of his league if and when he saw one again.

Since he’d been gaining power through faith, he’d elected to focus on permanent abilities that would grow with his power.  But even with all of his permanent abilities, he had four bars of power per day for spells.  Crafting the earthen buildings for the military every day, and for his own family hadn’t been a strain at all.

He’d actually learned a lot about gaining power through faith.  Now that he’d been focusing on the feeling, he could actually trace the general directions of his followers.  Some were in the harpy military detachment, but there were a few in other directions too.  He could only imagine that some of the Faithful had heard of or seen his fight with the Rakshasa outside of Faith.

Because Trav had an idea of how many revered him now, he’d come to understand that faith power gave diminishing returns.  He’d get stronger quickly, but eventually, more followers wouldn’t actually increase his power all that much.

After one last hug from Ysintrill, he left his earthen shelter and headed to the middle of camp, where as usual, he planned to build a kitchen and get fires started for the stovetops and ovens he could make from stone.  Once he arrived, he saw that Captain Bravoosa was already there, waiting for him.  He walked up and gave her a smile with a slight bow.

As usual, she wore her military uniform, basically a dark-green tunic and matching skirt under lorica armor, a chainmail skirt, and greaves.  All the harpies wore falcata-style swords as weapons and used them as camp tools too.  About half the soldiers carried spears, and half had short recurve bows.

“And how was your sleep, Mister Trav?” she asked.  She shot a meaningful look at his valkyries’ shelters and the one he’d slept in.

“Jealous?”

“Not hardly.  I am sure you’re very tempting for girls with that...taste, but I do not desire a human man.”

“Fair enough.”  Trav shrugged.  His relationship with the captain had improved dramatically, not least of which because he’d been helping her out.  He’d been assisting some of her soldiers during the trek back to Bernacia.  In fact, he’d even healed a few of their health problems, and handed out a number of his enchanted weapons as gifts.

Establishing a gate back in the workshop had been extremely handy.  Instead of carting around all the enchanted weapons, armor, and jewelry he’d made, he’d just left them in the workshop, then created a gate back whenever he needed to.  It didn’t make a ton of sense to go back and forth much while traveling since it took about a bar of magic power to create a temporary gate back, but he’d been like the Asgardian Santa Claus for the harpies he’d been traveling with.

And it was all going according to plan.

The military detachment he’d been traveling with, although weak, was apparently a third of Yaakova’s family’s military force.  What the harpies called a company, Trav thought was more like a large platoon, about fifty soldiers.  Since Trav had been traveling with them, he’d learned all the soldiers’ names.  The harpies loved him now—the weapons and armor he’d gifted them were very high quality.

It wasn’t a stretch to say Bravoosa’s Pinions, what the company called itself, was currently at least several times more dangerous than they had been when Trav had first met them.

Trav had also learned more about Yaakova’s tribe, and her family.  In harpy society, it seemed the families didn’t really organize by last name.  Instead, the five most powerful families of each tribe had traditional names that changed as one family fell out of the top five, and another took its place.  The East Tribe used different types of precipitation—rain, snow, sleet, hail, and mist.  Yaakova was part of the East Tribe’s Mist family.  The North Tribe families were named after animals, and the South tribes were named after jewels.

So the Mist family was weak, the Snow family should be supporting them, but was not.  At this point, Trav had the knowledge, and had made the preparations to spring his plan as soon as he arrived in Bernacia.  He only had a bit more than one more day to do so.

Since he was in a good mood, he began humming Staying Alive while crafting the cooking pavilion for the morning, and without saying a word, Bravoosa helped him where she could.  Trav liked her.  The Captain wasn’t very open minded, and couldn’t be called clever, but she worked hard and led from the front.

Later today when the company stopped to rest, usually around lunch time, Trav planned to spar with his valkyries and any willing soldiers.  He’d been exercising and practicing combat every day for the entire journey, both to polish his skills, and to prove his power to the Pinions.

Trav no longer thought of Odin’s memories as something alien, or just a tool.  Like it or not, they were part of him now, and he was finished ignoring what he’d traded for his life.  It was time to lead.

As he crafted an oven out of clay, he caught sight of Rahim.  The boy was being mothered by a couple soldiers, Tarasha and Rakkala.  Rahim was still shy, but he seemed to be enjoying the attention.  Trav didn’t know when Rakshasa boys hit puberty, but it couldn’t be too far off.

That was something to think about later.

He was proud of Rahim.  The boy had almost effortlessly been accepted by the Pinions, mainly by asking to play chess with the soldiers who knew how.  He’d also been asking them for martial lessons.  Trav had asked Rahim to do so, but he could tell that his adopted nephew was enjoying it as well, building his confidence.

Najila had raised the boy well, but had been so powerful, she couldn’t really spar well with her young son.  Meanwhile, the harpies, although strong Kin, were just right for Rahim’s underdeveloped strength.  Trav could only imagine what kind of monster his nephew would be when he was full grown.

All the preparations he’d discussed with Rahim, and with his valkyries before leaving his workshop were complete.  Everything would come down to his meeting with Yaakova’s sister now.

Trav stoked a fire, applying a bit of magic to heat his new oven faster, and nodded.  Now he could only hope that nothing went too sideways.

***

The next day, Trav saw Bernacia for the first time and stifled a yawn.  Harpies really did seem to be obsessed with flying, and building tall structures.  Tall for Kin, thought Trav.  He’d grown up on Earth, with skyscrapers.  Nothing he was seeing now was that impressive.

Captain Bravoosa’s soldiers, the Pinions, seemed disappointed by his lack of reaction.  The fact that Rahim didn’t really care about the soaring buildings either seemed to crush them.  Trav understood, though.  The East tribe was proud of their home, but Rahim had grown up as royalty in a legit capital city.

The buildings were definitely odd, though—made of stone, and a latticework of wood outside the framed building within.

Based on Trav’s understanding, Bernacia was sort of a backwater, at least Kin technology-wise.

He’d long ago put the harpy politics into his own frame of reference.  Demona was like the country.  Bernacia was a state, and the different tribes were counties.  So if Demona was like the United States, Bernacia was like Texas, Florida, California, and New York combined.  In this case, the importance seemed to be as much because of where Bernacia was located as the military power they could be relied upon.

Trav could figure out why.  As long as Bernacia didn’t crumble, it was one area of the Demonas’ border with Kyvendi, the Rakshasa country, that they wouldn’t need to worry about.

Bernacia was important, and the Guides were too.  In fact, it was almost like the three harpy Guides were political finalists going into an election, but in this case, the election would likely be some sort of martial event, or a deathmatch, or even a war.  Nobody seemed to know yet.  It was up to the Bernacian Elders to decide.

Crowds of curious harpies gathered on the side of the street and opened windows to watch the procession pass.  As his little procession passed a gated entrance to a large, paved area, he saw at least several hundred drilling soldiers wearing different colors than the Pinions.  He’d been told the East Tribe was weaker than the others, but it seemed the Mist family really didn’t have much military power at all, even in comparison to the other families.  No wonder Yaakova’s sister was looking for help.

The government building for the East Tribe turned out to be different than where Yaakova’s sister, Hravalin was staying.  Both buildings were adjacent, large, and mostly made of stone.  Yaakova whispered, “When there is no succession taking place, the guidehouse is part of the capital.  Right now it’s the guidehouse, though.”

“Ah,” murmured Trav.

They all underwent a quick security check in a courtyard, but only Trav, his valkyries, Captain Bravoosa, and Minister Roony were allowed forward.  Rahim did not look happy at all that he couldn’t join them, but Trav knew the harpies would take good care of the kid.  “Go with them,” he whispered.  “But use the amulet I gave you to call me if anything crazy happens.”

“Alright, Mister Trav.”  Rahim firmed his lips and marched after the harpies.
Tough kid, thought Trav.  The boy had just lost his mother and his entire world had changed, but other than some sniffles Trav had pretended not to hear at night, Rahim had been very brave.  Trav was proud of him.

Inside the guidehouse, the harpy guards demanded that everyone give up their weapons.  Trav wasn’t happy about this new development at all, but due to the resigned look on Narnaste’s face, and the way Ysintrill sighed, his valkyries had expected it.  With a shrug, Trav shed his weapons and armor, and allowed the guards to pat him down.

When one of them lingered on his sensitive bits and gave him a wink, he wasn’t sure how to react at first.  Then the guard’s hand kept moving, exploring.  Yaakova must have seen what was going on.  She almost lazily swiped a taloned hand at the guard, who darted back just in time to avoid being clawed.

The guard hissed, and Yaakova just smiled and said, “Mine.”

Trav tensed for violence, but the surrounding guards just cackled in appreciation.

However, the guard that Yaakova had threatened, an older harpy with a scar across her face bristled.  “Slaves are not consorts!  You have no more standing, and this one is wild.  Let us deal in reality.  I want him, so he will eventually be mine, Yaakova.  You cannot keep everything you want just because—”

A few weeks ago, Trav might have just rolled his eyes and let Yaakova deal with the blustering guard and her hurt pride.  But now he had a goal, purpose, and he understood Kin a lot better than he used to.  The dynamic of power being established here was not going to work for him.

While most of the harpies were still laughing, Trav stepped forward and straight-arm punched the guard right in the nose.  She fell back, hissing even louder than before in surprise, then sprang up, claws out and one hand on her sword.  Her hiss turned into a shriek, and Trav saw murder in her eyes.

“I’m not a slave.  Don’t ever fucking touch me again, bitch.”  Trav began carving runes in midair, and the harpy guards fell back, even the one he’d just struck.  He cast a look at the guard who seemed to be in charge and said, “You’d better make this stupid one stand down.  We have just reached an understanding, or we should have.  So if she attacks me now, I’m going to turn her into paste with some feathers sticking out.”

The guard leader blinked slowly.  Meanwhile, the offending harpy hissed lower and seemed to growl a question.  Finally, the leader said, “Stand down, Ereshka.”

“But he is human!  Even if he has some magic power, they are no match for Kin, especially—”

“Ereshka, stop being a fool and look at Yaakova.”

The guard did as her leader said, and took a step back.  Trav glanced over too.  Yaakova’s feathers were on end, but she was grinning, barely holding in her glee.  The fact that she was not worried in the slightest about Trav’s safety was obvious.

“Get to the rear of the procession,” ordered the guard leader, and Ereshka slunk back with one last spite-filled look at Trav.  He wiggled his nose at her, insulting her while not directly challenging or disrespecting her.

Trav couldn’t afford to show even a tiny bit of weakness in this place.  Even Yaakova had kept secrets from most of her harpy brethren.  From what she’d told Trav, only her little sister knew she could transform.  In fact, demonstrating her ability in private had been what finally convinced her sister to help.

Their group tromped down the opulent hallways toward a huge, carved wooden door.  Trav noticed the hidden sigils and other magical protections through the door and the adjacent walls and assumed that this must be the guideroom.  When the group kept moving towards it, he knew he’d guessed right.

He took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold.  The next few minutes would be very important.  Hopefully he’d stacked the deck enough in his favor.  To one side, Ysintrill touched his arm, and the signal was clear—his valkyries had his back.

Trav smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world.  First appearances would always be important.  If the surrounding guards were wondering how a human could be so worry-free while completely unarmed and surrounded, well, they didn’t know he could call Hex with a thought.

Chapter 15

The room was somewhat dark, very old-looking, and entirely made of stone.  Trav wasn’t sure why harpies seemed to build all of their most important structures with stone. He decided it was probably as much about a sign of wealth as for defensive abilities.

A harpy woman with similar plumage as Yaakova sat in a dark throne against the far wall—strange pink torches stood to the sides.  Trav did a double take as he realized that the torches were actually some sort of magic lamp.  Similar lamps, but white, not pink, lined the walls where they joined the ceiling.

The harpy on the throne had to be Yaakova’s younger sister, Hravalin.  She wore an ornate headdress with the colors of the Mist family, and as best as Trav could tell she looked like she was in her early twenties.  She had a very voluptuous figure, but wore much more modest clothing than Yaakova usually did.

Harpy guards, some wearing the colors of the Mist family, and some from the royal tree, were stationed around the room.  Kin servants wearing Mist family livery stood in waiting, and Trav’s eyes narrowed as he noticed a few human slaves.  Most looked well fed and didn’t have any visible wounds.  Trav let his eyes move back to Hravalin.

An old harpy wearing an ornate robe called out, “Mistress Yaakova and companions, you are in the presence of the East Family Guide, Hravalin Mishakdatter.  All bow!”

Trav’s pulse sped up.  This was it, the time to make his move.  If he just bowed here, tried to blend in, he wasn’t sure what would happen, but his group would be split up and he refused to lose Yaakova.  He hoped that the two bars of power he’d sunk into improved reflexes and durability would be enough.  Right before handing over Hex, he’d used his shiv to activate the buffs.

So when the others in the room bowed, Trav remained standing.  He kept his face impassive, not showing any aggression or hostility and met Hravalin’s eyes.  The old harpy in the robe frowned.  “Why aren’t you bowing, human?”

“I don’t see why I should.  I am not a part of this kingdom, and I am at least peers with the Guide.”

The entire room collectively exploded into harpy anger.  Trav would have expected this reaction even if Yaakova hadn’t predicted it.  Turning the room against him was going to make his play harder, but it was also necessary to establish the pecking order—or at least that he was not part of theirs.

A harpy guard growled, “How dare a slave—”

Other guards and harpies began shouting, some stalking forward.  Hravalin still hadn’t moved—she just stared at Trav.

The valkyries moved around him in a protective circle, and Trav knew Narnaste was about a hair away from turning into a giant wolf.  The room would be big enough for her to do so, but if she attacked seriously, it would start a fight Trav didn’t want.  He hoped she controlled herself.

Yaakova was actually the best visual deterrent, stopping some of the harpies from advancing.  She’d had a dangerous reputation even before leaving her home, but now she positively dripped menace and power.  Yaakova hardened her feathers, and the razor-sharp blades gleamed in the light.

Trav extended a finger, drawing a single glyph in the air and thundered, “Shut the fuck up!”  It was time to make a power play.  Other Restless would doubtlessly show up to Asgard since there was such a high concentration of Restless here already, and Trav still remembered the demonic thing he’d encountered through the veil back in the witch caves.  That thing might have alerted its friends too.

It was time to be bold now, time to take risks.

The older harpy in the robe was shaking, showing all of her teeth.  “You apologize on your—”

“Apologize?” thundered Trav.  He pointed to Hravalin but felt a little guilty as he did.  He was about to throw Yaakova’s sister under the bus.  “The entire procession that just got back, Bravoosa’s Pinions, was dispatched to find and return with me!  That was one third of your family’s military force, right?  I was their mission!” He paused, and kept his voice amplification magic on as he asked, “Who are you anyway, Grandmother?”

The older harpy began to make a grating sound, like she was so angry she’d stopped functioning.  Meanwhile, the rest of the room quieted to watch.  To his side, Yaakova said softly, but loud enough to be heard around the room, “Her name is Ursha, Master.  She is one of my sister’s ministers, an elder of the Mist family.”

Trav heard the confusion in the whispers around the room.  “‘Master?’  Did Yaakova really just call him ‘Master?’”  He silently thanked his harpy valkyrie and vowed to do something nice for her later.  She didn’t usually call him Master, and only had now because he’d asked her to back in Najila’s old workshop.  Luckily, she hadn’t been too difficult to convince.  Trav wasn’t just fighting for himself and his family on Asgard—this was about saving Yaakova’s family and maybe even her entire tribe.

If the North or South tribe absorbed the East tribe, the East harpies would not be treated well, and most would no longer be allowed to breed.  In fact, this was how the West family was destroyed a hundred years ago.

This entire plan had hinged on a few things, including their group being summoned to the guideroom as soon as they’d returned.  Yaakova had predicted it—her sister would want to make sure that Yaakova didn’t run off or disappear without honoring her promise.  She’d been willing to give her older half sister a chance, but likely didn’t actually believe that Trav was a High Master.

It was time to change that, and if not, at least get the entire East Tribe talking about Trav.

Trav was still pointing at Hravalin.  “The Mist family is weak, and the East Tribe faces destruction even as the five families squabble.  I have arrived to help the Mist Tribe and Hravalin Mishakdatter win the royal tree!”

“Heresy!” screamed a guard.

Ursha held up one gnarled, clawed hand, calling for silence.  Yaakova growled low in her throat, holding angry guards at bay.  The old minister’s voice was strangled, like she was half enraged, half aghast.  “Are you moon-touched, human?  Who are you, a slave,  to say such shameless things?”

Trav couldn’t have asked for a more perfect way to make his announcement and mentally thanked the angry old harpy.  He drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and with all the public speaking skill he could gather from Odin’s memories, he announced, “I am a High Master, the Allfather reborn!  In fact, rather than a High Master, think of me as a Reborn Master!  I have arrived, and I will bend Asgard to my will!”  Trav had thought the speech sounded corny as he’d planned it, but also seemed like something a god would say.  As it turned out, none of the harpies thought it sounded goofy at all.

The entire room erupted.

Behind him, Captain Bravoosa yelled, “What is going on?  Yaakova, did you know about this?”

“Of course I did!  Now guard Trav!” snarled Yaakova.

Ysintrill was unarmed, but had already put a harpy down on the floor.  The feathered Kin gasped for air after the dark valkyrie had kicked her in the throat.  As other harpies attacked, Ysintrill bobbed, weaved, and turned her body to smoke in order to avoid being clawed to ribbons.  Her fighting style was as brilliant and savage as it was elegant, but she was still being pushed back.

Trav cursed.  He really couldn’t afford to use his power here.  Killing Yaakova’s people would ruin his plan and truly make him an enemy.  If he went down that road, it’d be something he couldn’t take back, couldn’t do over.  Trav made a quick judgement call and reversed his earlier order, calling out, “Narnaste, change forms!”

The room went from a melee of confused and enraged harpies, trying to reach Trav to tear him apart, to being dominated by an enormous red wolf.  When Narnaste growled, the very stone in the floor seemed to vibrate.

Trav crawled up her fur until he was on Narnaste’s back.  She was so tall that even with the huge size of the room, Trav couldn’t sit up straight.  Cries of fear rang around the room as the harpies tried to get away from Narnaste.  A few threw magical attacks, or shot arrows at Trav, but Narnaste easily blocked them with her shoulders.  Trav winced as the hide on one side of the huge wolf smoked.

He still had his voice amplification glyph active but before he could speak, Hravalin beat him to it.  The chair she was sitting in might have had an amplification effect too, or she’d used some sort of magic of her own because Trav could hear her clearly.  “Stand down!” she ordered.  Then she snapped and enhanced the sound.  The sharp crack got everyone’s attention.

Trav thought it was a cool trick and switched his vision to one band of a magical spectrum, using his emberstone eye in particular.  As soon as his vision shifted, he squinted.

There was another figure standing near Hravalin, more like a shadow, but Trav could see her.  The figure was entirely invisible to his normal vision.

“Since this is a Mist family matter, and everyone here is Mist family or trusted, we will discuss this openly.”  Hravalin flayed the harpies inside with her eyes.  “Everyone will stay silent and listen while I speak to this human.”

Trav was very impressed.  Despite being so young, Hravalin spoke very well.  She’d taken the best path to save face and make it seem like she was in complete control.  As Trav studied her, his magic sight turned up evidence that she had a lot of power too—likely about the same as Yaakova when Trav had first met her.

“But Guide—” began Ursha.

Hravalin didn’t back down.  She held out a hand.  “Silence.”  Her expression softened.  “You are very wise, and you have served several guides well, Ursha, but this is something new.  I am the guide for our tribe, so this is my responsibility.  I want to hear what the human has to say.”

“So be it.”

Hravalin stood.  “Human, call off your wolf.  Let us talk.”

Trav slid down Narnaste’s back and ordered, “Stay back please, Narn.”  He walked forward until he was about halfway across the room and the guards pointed weapons at him, not-so-subtly telling him to stay in place.  Hravalin stayed where she was standing.   Trav heard footsteps and turned.

Yaakova proudly walked behind him and stopped, with a somewhat reluctant Captain Bravoosa in tow.  Trav spotted Ysintrill on Narnaste’s back.  She’d gotten a sword somewhere and all of her normal expressions of kindness and gentleness had been replaced with the eyes of an ancient warrior.

Trav crossed his arms.  “I can’t come any closer, so this is more a yell than a talk.”

“My family cares about my life, and I am not complaining.”  Hravalin offered him a wry smile and turned to Yaakova.  “Sister, what is the meaning of this?  I gave you these soldiers.  I trusted you!”

Yaakova rolled her eyes.  “Oh come on, Villi, you summoned us in here before we’d even had a bath and planned to keep me under your thumb.  Captain Bravoosa here was babysitting me the entire time.  It wouldn’t surprise me if she had to take notes on everything she heard me say among my group.”

The captain moved from foot to taloned foot, and Trav felt a flash of humor as he realized the captain was really terrible at keeping a poker face.

Hravalin set her jaw.  “I am our family’s Guide!  And this human—”

“My name is Trav, and I am not human, at least I don’t think I am anymore.  You don’t have to call me by a title, but you will stop addressing me as ‘human.’”  He paused dramatically before continuing, “—Or I won’t help you.”

“How could you possibly help us?”  Ursha’s mocking laughter rang until she caught sight of Hravalin’s furious expression and choked.

“I told you to stay silent, Ursha.  If you disobey me again, I will be forced to punish you.”

As the older harpy grimaced, Trav felt impressed with Hravalin all over again.  She had the same self-confidence as Yaakova, but also seemed to have more control over her temper, and better communication skills.  The fact that she was so young just made her more impressive.  Trav was beginning to understand why she’d been chosen.

She turned to Trav and said, “Ursha spoke out of turn, but her question was good.  What can you possibly offer me...other than to father children in my tribe?”

Narnaste began to growl, but Trav gave her a look until she stopped.  He met Hravalin’s eyes and said, “Without my help, you have no hope of becoming the Royal.”  After a breath, he took the final plunge, putting words to the East tribe’s grim situation.  “And if you don’t become the Royal, the East tribe probably won’t last another ten years.”

The harpies around the room began to hiss again, but Hravalin, Ursha, and several other older harpies near the dais just glared.  Trav raised the volume of his spell and said, “It’s true, and you know it!  Even the other East tribe families have better militaries than you do.  They are not supporting you, and if you eventually beg, which you will have to do in order to have a chance of winning a martial contest for the royal tree, it will result in debts that eat away at this family!”

The room grew louder and Trav continued, “The Mist family is still one of the top five in the East tribe! You are weak, but the non-named families are even weaker.  Meanwhile, the North tribe and South tribe are strong, and have been weakening the East tribe for five years, right?  All of this infighting will make your tribe weak, vulnerable.”

Trav had no problem memorizing information, and Yaakova had been a good teacher.  Trav practically felt like he’d grown up a harpy now with as much as he knew about harpy politics.

“Do you intend to just insult and taunt us until my goodwill fails and we rip you apart, human?”

Trav frowned and drew a quick glyph in the air that transformed into a globe of red light that floated outward before silently forming a soundless little explosion.  The demonstration took almost no magic power, and wasn’t dangerous, but it sure looked scary.  He heard a Kin in the crowd breath, “Rune magic.”

“I thought I told you about calling me human, harpy.”

Hravalin’s eyes narrowed and her jaw firmed, but she nodded.  “What is your name?”

“You can call me Trav, or Travis.”

“Well Trav, you have all of us watching, and you’ve yet to explain what you are actually offering.  You’ve disrupted my court, claimed to be a god, angered my guards, and basically acted as if you want to die.  You have power of your own, but the other main reason you are in one piece right now is that you have so many powerful friends guarding you, including my half sister.”  Her eyes flicked at Yaakova.

Trav grinned without humor.  “I have chosen not to harm any Bernacian except in life or death self-defense or in defense of another.  You might have a different opinion of my abilities if I’d wanted you dead.”  The harpy guards fingered weapons, and one looked like she might draw her bow, but Trav met her eyes and shook his head.  “I’ve killed Rakshasa.  I will not go down easily if it comes to serious violence.”

Hravalin asked Yaakova a question with her eyes, and her sister slowly nodded.  The East tribe Guide blinked.

Trav continued, “And this situation would be very different if my group were not unarmed.”

“You have a shapeshifting Kin guard who can turn into a giant wolf, so I’d hardly call you helpless, but yes, I will say you have a point.”

Perfect, thought Trav.  She’d completely walked into where he’d wanted her to go.  “Weapons are actually one way I can help.  When they left this place, Bravoosa’s company was the weakest of the Mist family, correct?  Now they are likely the strongest.  Between the advice I have given, and the enchanted armor and weapons I have gifted, Captain Bravoosa’s soldiers are much more dangerous than they had been before.”

“Captain Bravoosa, is that true?”  Hravalin seemed more curious than guarded now.

Bravoosa tucked her wings in as close to her body as she could and bowed.  “Yes, Guide.   And—” The captain paused and looked around like she wasn’t sure if she should speak anymore, but Hravalin waved her on.  “He is very popular among many of my soldiers.  They have sparred with him, and he can keep up, or even surpass them.  And once he demonstrated some magic that I received a report about later.  They believe he fought a Rakshasa.  He also has a Rakshasa nephew, a ward.”

“A what?  He travels with a Rakshasa?”  After Bravoosa nodded, Hravalin asked, “What kind of enchanted weapons?  Lower grade?”

Bravoosa shook her head.  “No.  High grade.”  She drew her sword, activated it, and the blade burst into flames.  She manipulated the weapon again and the fire grew, shooting toward the top of the room.  Right after the flame had burned a scorch mark in the stone overhead, Bravoosa cut the effect.  The surrounding harpies were stunned as the captain said, “He gave away armor that is probably worth a small fortune to a soldier who beat him at chess.  Now I have soldiers armed with sidearms that are better than the main weapons of some of the most powerful armies on Asgard.”

“I...see.”  Bravoosa turned to Trav.  “Explain.”

“It’s simple really,” said Trav.  “I can make enchanted armor and weapons.”  As the room grew noisy again, Trav spoke over it and said, “Everything I gave to the soldiers were gifts, but I am also prepared to gift you with a few choice weapons for your guards in order to help pay for my rescue.”  He smiled at her.

An older harpy demanded as she strode forward.  Decorations on her leather armor flashed in the artificial light.  “No! Bravoosa’s soldiers are lowest!  Those weapons should be given to the other companies!”

Hravalin gave the older harpy an irritated look.  “I just corrected Ursha, Colonel Wesnyag.  Are you trying to annoy me?”

“No Guide, I just—” As the older harpy spoke,  Trav could clearly see that while most of the harpies in the room respected Hravalin, this soldier did not.

The Guide held up a clawed finger.  “Soldiers’ personal property remains their own.  If we take personal items, we will not have an army left.  Do you want us to lose the royal tree before we’ve even had the trial, Colonel?”

Trav saw the perfect opening to speak again.  “The trial is the next way I can help.”

“Oh?”  Hravalin turned to face him again, and Trav admired her poise, but he had some of the memories and experiences of an ancient Restless in his head.  Now he could see right through her, and recognized her anger and fear.  Hravalin was very good at acting like she was tough and in control, but she knew she was on a losing team.

“Yes.  The challenge for the royal tree will be combat-based, right?  That is all anyone knows.  We don’t know when it will happen, but I suggest that while we wait, I can continue to supply Bravoosa’s Pinions with enchanted gear and other advantages.  Haven’t challenges like this in the past usually been restricted to one company-sized group of soldiers commanded by each Guide?”

“That is mostly correct.”  Hravalin nodded, and she leaned slightly forward, waiting for Trav’s response.

Gotcha, he thought.  “I am suggesting that I am integrated into Bravoosa’s Pinions as her superior, to be of equal rank with you when you are leading.  So you will be like a general, and I will be the Sergeant Major.”

“What is a Sergeant Major?”  Hravalin frowned, and Trav mentally cursed.  He might be losing her.

“It doesn’t matter.  You can use whatever title you want.  But if I am part of your force, my valkyries will go with me as bodyguards, or secretaries, or assistants, whatever you need to call them to explain them being there.”

Hravalin thoughtfully tapped her lip with a claw.  “The company size for most trials in the past have been right around 40 strong.  Mmm.”

“You can’t seriously be considering this can you, Guide?”  Colonel Wesnyag’s feathers were all but spasming, and she flexed her claws.

“I am considering it, Wesnyag.  As the Guide of the East tribe, it is my responsibility to verify new information about the trial.  It is also my responsibility to keep an open mind and do what I must for our tribe and our family.  Everything this...Trav has said is ridiculous on its own, but I trust Captain Bravoosa, and I do not think Yaakova would follow someone weak.  The fact she is following a human, and begged me to give her soldiers to find him before is extraordinary by itself.”

The old soldier began to complain again, but Hravalin cut her off with a slashing gesture.  Then she said, “Trav, you have given me much to think about.  I want to verify everything you have told me, and interview the harpies you traveled with.  After that, if you can truly be of use, we will have a meeting.”  She frowned at their surroundings.  “In private.”

Most of the harpies around the room were spellbound at this point.  Many likely didn’t believe what Trav had said, and some were still angry, but they were fascinated by what was taking place before them.  Also, a tiny few of them really had begun to believe.  Trav could feel it.

He caught sight of a female Demona in the guideroom, glowering at him from the corner.  Not everyone was happy about what was going on.  This thought made Trav eye the invisible listener on the dais.  The hidden figure had moved back and forth a few times, like they were debating running away, or staying.

Trav said, “I understand.  But Guide, while you think about it, I have a question.”

“What?”

“Tell me this—do you have an invisible member of your court standing near you on that dais?”

Hravalin’s eyes widened, and she began to turn even as the invisible watcher moved toward her.  With his magic sight, Trav thought he caught sight of a weapon.  He’d been prepared for something like this to happen, though.

Trav Shadowwalked to the side of the figure, summoning Hex as he did so.  He caught the attacker’s wrist, savagely clamping down with his strengthened hand and using a bit of magic to shoot a current of electricity from his thumb to his fingers.  The watcher made a surprised noise and released a weapon right before Trav drove home Hex.

“C02!” he thundered, triggering a preloaded rune equation.  A great torrent of air burst from the dagger, causing an immediate, violent reaction.  The powerful blast of gas delivered directly into the wound did horrible damage to Trav’s target.  As its invisibility dropped, the watcher was revealed to be a harpy, flopping on the ground as she thrashed in agony.  Trav winced.  He’d gotten the idea for this rune spell by a weapon back on Earth.  It was definitely effective.

The harpy had died fast, but was still having horrible reactions to what Trav had done to her.  She had on some really sleek, polished-looking dark armor.   Nearby Mist family guards gasped.  “North tribe!  North tribe was here!”

“Spy!  A spy!”

Not all of the harpies understood what had happened, and they surged forward, believing Trav was a threat again.  Some of the guards rushed forward to look at the fallen spy.  Trav felt a clawed hand grab his arm, and Hravalin gently pulled him behind her.

“That may have been an assassin,” she said.

Trav nodded and whispered, “Good.  I’m glad I could help and I mean you no harm, truly.  But you really do need me, and if we win, you don’t even need to give any credit to anyone else for your win.  Guiding deities don’t get the same sort of recognition.  Think about that.”

Hravalin’s cheeks were pale, but she was keeping her composure.  She gave the body one more look and glanced at Trav.  Then she held out a forestalling hand to the nearest guards who had just noticed how close Trav was to their Guide.  “I must think now.  Guards, take him away, somewhere...safe.  We need added security in this room.  I want a complete sweep.”

“Am I under arrest?”  Trav carefully modulated his tone, not sounding aggressive nor weak.

The young guide seemed startled by the question.  “What?  No.”

“So I have my freedom?  I am a guest?”

Narnaste was no longer in her huge wolf form.  Trav’s valkyries were almost being ignored now, and they picked their way carefully over to where Trav was on the dais.

Meanwhile, word seemed to have already spread about what happened, or maybe it’d just taken more guards this long to arrive.  New harpies poured in from outside, rushing through the door and moving to inspect the body of the harpy Trav had just killed.  The room was full of noise and chaos, with some guards pointing at Trav, and others beginning to push each other.

Hravalin waved her hand, moving to the corpse as well.  “Yes, yes, you are a guest.  Stay out of trouble, please.  You have made everything more complicated, but you truly might have just saved my life, so we’ll continue this later.”  She turned and waved over a couple of competent-looking guards. “Make sure they are protected.”

As the guards acknowledged the order, Trav bowed graciously and hid his smile.

***

Trav and his valkyries were ushered down a hallway and into a side room, with heavy guards placed outside.  Outside the doors, screams, hisses, and even the sounds of fighting echoed through the heavy wood.  No matter how the situation shook out, Trav had made a huge impact.  He probably couldn’t have asked for a better setup than revealing a spy in such a flashy way.

The screaming outside intensified; there was a thump as a body hit a door.

Trav was a little troubled now that he wasn’t directly involved with what was going on out there.  Because of his actions, a new religion was probably coming to the East Tribe.  Between the faith he knew he had with some of Bravoosa’s Pinions, and what had just happened, it was inevitable.  He wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, but if he was willing to kill a whole lot of Kin, and maybe some humans on the way to his goals, it didn’t make sense to shy away from building his own cult full of monsters.

Trav motioned Yaakova over, dropped his mouth near her ear and asked, “How long does it take to get a message back to the capital of Demona, mobilize an army, and make it here?”

“About two months, New One.”  The realization in her eyes showed she knew why he’d asked.

He sighed.  “We have two months then.  How long will it be before we know what the test for the royal tree will be?”

“Maybe a week, a month? No more than six weeks.”

Trav nodded.  “No time to waste.”  He turned to meet eyes with all of his family.  “Now where is my wife?  We need to tell Tiffany she’s probably about to get a new temple.”

Ysintrill frowned.  “Shouldn’t we stay here?  The crowd, and everything else going on…”

“Yeah, of course.”  Trav nodded.  “We’re going to give it an hour or two to die down, but I expect word to spread fast, and the other tribes might try taking a shot at us.  Let’s all wash up first, then head out.  Can you tell the guards please, Yaakova?  Hopefully they really are our guards and not our jailers.”

The harpy gave Trav a long look before slowly shaking her head.  “I don’t know exactly how I feel about all of this, but even though it is for selfish reasons, I think you may have just given my tribe some real hope.  Not for the first time, I am glad I did not kill you when we had first met.”

“Me too.”  Trav grinned and gave her a playful swat on the ass as she headed to the door.  She rolled her eyes at him and Ysintrill giggled.

Narnaste ignored them all as she headed to the bathroom.  “Can everyone please wash?  I have a sensitive nose, remember?  We have been on the road for a long time.”

“Sorry, Narn.”  Trav suddenly remembered her burns and the wounds she’d taken minutes ago.  The wounds probably weren’t as bad in her Kin form, but he rummaged around in his pack for some salve and followed her to the bathroom.  She’d taken care of him, now it was time to take care of her.

Chapter 16

While Trav cleaned up, he heard Rahim’s voice.  When he got out of the bathroom and saw that Rahim was safe, he felt himself physically relax.  The soldiers that had been with the boy—some of Bravoosa’s company—told Narnaste that the captain had ordered Rahim brought to Trav.

Then after making sure Rahim was safe and settled, Trav had left the room with two of his valkyries.  Ysintrill and Rahim stayed back in their borrowed chambers.

Trav, Narnaste, and Yaakova were armed again, and three harpy guards followed them—one wore the colors of the Mist family, and two of them were from the royal tree.  The guards hadn’t tried to interfere in any way, but they weren’t being very helpful, either.  Trav had already asked where Tiffany was and none of them had answered.

“You’re sure that Tiffany is at this cottage, Narn?”

“I think so, Master.  It’s where she was when we left.”  Narnaste shrugged apologetically.

Yaakova said, “It is possible that they moved her.”

Narnaste nodded.  “Yes, but I actually hope they did.  The cottage was not exactly...good, and we owe Lady Tiffany a great debt.”

Trav absently nodded.  During the entire time his group had traveled from Najila’s cabin to Bernacia, he’d heard stories of how Tiffany had been cool under pressure and had made decisions that might have saved the lives of Trav’s valkyries.  They might not have liked the Restless woman before, but now they openly respected her.

His group moved down remarkably empty streets, and Trav wondered why until he looked up.  In this part of town, almost all the buildings were connected by simple skyways, and a lot of harpies seemed to prefer them.

At first Trav had worried that his group might be stopped or slowed, especially with what had just happened in the guildhall.  Thankfully, most of the harpies paid them no mind.  There were other humans and various Kin walking around, so Trav wasn’t notable other than the fact that he was armed and armored.  If any of the harpies passing by slowed to look at him too long, a growl from Yaakova sent them on her way.

Some of the harpies they passed took one look at Yaakova and immediately turned the other way.

“Just what the hell was your reputation like before you left?” muttered Trav.

“My life was complicated, New One.”  Yaakova ran her claws through her hair.  “You have still not seen the true range of the magic I’ve learned.  When I was young and rebellious, I studied curses for years.”

After a sidelong look, Trav began, “So what—”

“Trav? Trav is that you?  It is you!  What a treat!”

“Uh oh, Master,” murmured Narnaste.

Trav didn’t even need to look to know who it was—he could recognize the voice.  “Oh hell, this idiot?  Why is he here?  How?  This guy is like a cockroach.”  Trav sighed and turned.  There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

Thomas, the third Restless who’d been at Faith with Trav and Tiffany, sauntered up with a wine bottle in both hands, and two young harpies on his arms.  As the inheritor of the mantle of Thanatos, a god of death, Trav had never understood why the man only ever seemed to drink and party.

As usual, Thomas wore a dark leather duster, a jaunty hat, and tanker boots.  The rest of his outfit was very Asgardian.  He had dark circles around his eyes, probably mascara, and had a tie in his long, wavy hair.  His earrings glinted as they caught the light.   Despite the man originally being human and speaking accented English at times, he refused to admit that he’d come from Earth too.

Trav slowly shook his head.  “Thomas.  How are you here?”

“It’s nice to see you too, old chum!”  Thomas took a swig from one bottle.  Both the harpies that were hanging off of him looked highly intoxicated.

“I thought all the humans here were slaves.  How are you just walking around like this?  Again, how are you even alive?”

Thomas rolled his eyes.  “You aren’t the only bloody Restless on this rock, mate.  Do you know what I call people who always have to fight out of every situation?  Suckers.  Look at me!  Knowing you, you ran around, getting into scraps.  Me?  I had a peaceful travel, almost a vacation, wound up here, grabbed a pint and a willing woman or two, and relaxed!”

“Willing?” sniffed Narnaste.  “They smell drugged, or drunk.”

“Just because they aren’t repressed little wolfies like you doesn’t mean they aren’t happy, waggy little Narny.”

When Narnaste frowned and her tail bristled, Trav decided he should step in.  “Don’t talk to Narnaste that way, Thomas.”

“She started it!  Did you hear what she said?”  He stroked the cheek of one harpy companion, nuzzled the neck of the other, and asked, “Are you girls unhappy?  Would you rather be anywhere else, loves?”

One harpy just moaned, and the other said, “Of course not, Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”  Trav eyed the other Restless and shook his head.  “Actually, I don’t want to know.”

Thomas huffed and switched to English.  “Oh, look who is all high and mighty now, your Lordship.  You think you’re better than me, but here you are, walking around with a couple bints of your own, right?”

Trav shook his head.  “You deny coming from Earth, but listen to you.  Tell you what, if you’re brave, say what you just said so these two can understand.”

“You think I’m stupid?”  Thomas scoffed.  “Besides, it might not go so well for your little strumpets.  I am Restless too, ya know.”

“What I know is you are beginning to annoy me, and you don’t train and I’ve never seen you fight.”

Thomas took another swig from one of his bottles.  “I should probably bugger off now, right?”

“Yes.  Now.”

The irritating man shrugged, then wandered off with his two harpies and Trav released a breath.  “What was that all about?” asked Narnaste.

Yaakova nodded.  “I would like to know too.  You were speaking English?”

Trav nodded.  “He was just talking nonsense.”

“Would it make us angry if we’d been able to understand?” asked Narnaste.

“Yes.”

“Figures,” said Yaakova.

“I really do not like that man.”  Narnaste’s ears quivered and Trav felt for her.  Thomas could definitely be a dickhead and Trav always felt an urge to punch the other man in the face, but dislike for Thomas had created a religious crisis for Narnaste.  She was Faithful, and was basically a member of a religion that had been waiting for the Restless to return.

Now that they had, some of the Faithful had realized that they didn’t like some of their new gods and were already picking teams.  Welcome to religion, thought Trav.

Narnaste and Yaakova led him to a line of cabins at the edge of town, and before they’d even reached the porch, Leonard was already outside, giving them a carefully measured bow.  “I am glad to see you well, my lord.  The lady had informed me that you would be arriving.”

“Hi Leonard.”  Trav felt a little awkward.  How was he supposed to address his wife’s servant and high priest?  He absently noted that Narnaste and Leonard both wore rapiers now.  “If you could use a new weapon, remind me later to make you a new rapier.”

“My lord, this sword was crafted by a master smith.”  Leonard sounded indignant, and Trav understood.  The weapon was beautiful, much finer and more detailed-looking than Narnaste’s.

“Sure, but I can enchant it for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.  I’ll talk to you about it later.  Is Tiffany inside?”

“Indeed.  I will inform her that you’ve arrived.”

From inside the cabin, Tiffany’s voice rang out, “Leonard, just let them in.  This place is not very big—I could hear everything.”

Somewhat stiffly, Leonard opened the door.

Tiffany was sitting in a comfortable-looking chair, dressed in a skirt, a low-cut top, and pumps.  She looked like she’d just bathed, and she was even wearing makeup.

“What’s the occasion?” asked Trav.

“You are.”

He blinked.  “You knew I was coming?”

“Of course.  I have the mantle of Zorya, remember?”

Yaakova and Narnaste brushed by Trav and both of them took one of Tiffany’s hands.  “We brought him back!” said Narnaste.

Yaakova sort of bowed over the hand she was holding.  “Have you been well, Lady?”

Trav was taken aback.  “What the hell?  ‘Lady?’  Why don’t you ever talk to me like that, ‘Kova?”

The harpy shrugged.  “You are my lord and we are tied together now forever.  I respect your power, but this one...has style.”

Narnaste nodded.  “I was confused and didn’t know what to think about it when you married Tiffany, Master.  But when Faith fell, we saw how she acted, how strong she was, and she saved us.  She saved a lot of people.  I should have known that you would make such a wise choice, Master.”  Narnaste’s eyes shone.  “You are building a new pantheon!”

Trav coughed.  He wasn’t sure what to say to that.  He was suddenly struck by the situation itself—talking to his new wife who looked human but was actually a reborn goddess, in the presence of his non-human girlfriends.  What would Dad say about this? Hell, what would Mom think about this? he thought, and suppressed a laugh.  Behind his valkyries, he saw Tiffany smiling at him.

The reborn goddess freed her hands and folded them in her lap.  “I’ve gotten stronger, you know.  You probably have too, right?”

“Yes.”

“I can feel it.  My ability to sense these things has improved.”

That was news to Trav.  He just raised an eyebrow.

Tiffany smiled and stood.  “My abilities and control have grown too.  I can actually adjust the time dilation of my domain now.”

“You mean—”

“Yes.  I can either make time move even more slowly, or faster there now.”

“Why have you had it locked up, then?”

“Oh, you noticed that?”

“Of course I did.”  Trav frowned.  “I was stranded in a forest and living in a cabin for like a month.  Your domain would have been a nice place to escape to and maybe make my way to wherever you were.”

“They really do already sound like a married couple, don’t they?” Narnaste loudly whispered to Yaakova.

The harpy just shrugged.  “I wouldn’t know.  Harpies don’t really marry very often.  I have several half sisters.”

Narnaste made a face at Yaakova, and Trav ignored them.  Tiffany glanced at the valkyries but met Trav’s eyes again.  She said, “That’s not how it would have worked.  If you traveled to my domain and came back, you’d just return from where you started.”

“I could have at least told you what was going on.  Why was it locked up tight?”

Tiffany sighed.  “The truth is that until we all got here, we were in massive danger and constantly moving.  Then after I got here, I’ve been under constant watch.  The official story that Yaakova came up with and that Hravalin eventually endorsed was that I was a powerful human witch, and Yaakova wanted to learn my style of magic.  I think some of the other harpies suspected I was Restless, though.  I was afraid that if I used too much of my power, a watcher might notice and I’d be dissected, killed, or put under tighter security.  Worse, I was worried an enemy Restless might find me.

“Every day I’ve been here, I’ve been spied on.  To be honest, I’m not sure if they were trying to figure out if I was Restless or just observe new magic, I’m not sure, but I’ve had to play it safe.  A handful of other refugees made it here from Faith but they’ve kept quiet.  Some of them visited me from time to time, at least when it was safe to do so.”

“Sounds boring.”

“It was.”  Tiffany nodded.  “But Jang-mi has been visiting me, and at least we are all still alive.”  She gave Narnaste and Yaakova a look and said, “I want to take your master somewhere with me, but this time we will only be gone for a moment.”

Yaakova and Narnaste nodded.  Narnaste’s face was calm, but her tail moved in a way that let Trav know she was distressed.  Tiffany must have also noticed, because she moved closer to the Kin woman and put a hand on her arm.  Tiffany said, “We’re coming back soon, and we aren’t in territory controlled by the Church here.  Relax.”

“Yes, Lady.”  Narnaste’s hand rested on the hilt of her rapier, though.

Tiffany took Trav’s hand.  “Would you like to come with me?”  She drew her fan and raised an eyebrow.

Trav frowned.  “Why can you go now?  You just told me why you’ve kept the entrance locked up.”

“Things have changed.  Word spreads fast, and I bear the mantle of Zorya, remember?  Sometimes I just know things that are happening nearby.  As I get stronger, the range will increase.  But anyway, you made a massive power play and it seemed to have worked.  Even though it’s only been a couple of hours, a solid number of harpies in the East Tribe know you are Restless and believe it.  Most don’t seem to know how to feel about it so far, though.”

Trav slowly nodded. “So that’s why my power hasn’t increased.”

“Sure.  Knowing something exists is not the same thing as caring about it.  Anyway, now I’m not as worried about keeping secrets.  I’ve already tied my fate to yours, and what’s done is done.  For the record, I think you made the right decision, though.”

“You do?”

Tiffany nodded seriously.  “The Faithful are scattered to the winds, and Faith has been destroyed.  The fact so many Restless are turning up on Asgard is a big deal, and I’m worried about it.  The more friends and allies we can make now, the better.”

“Couldn’t you just make your portal, slow down time on the other side, and wait out any danger?” asked Yaakova.

“Nothing is ever that easily, especially for Restless.”  Tiffany smiled.  “That applies to magic too, something you probably know well, right, Kova?”

As Yaakova nodded her head in agreement, Tiffany took Trav’s arm and said, “Ready?”  She held up her fan.

Trav paused.  A bit of his old paranoia from the mines crept up in the back of his mind, and he suddenly saw familiar text overlaying his vision.  <You are really damaged.  Why Odin chose to give his mantle to you I may not ever understand.  The oaths your wife swore were very powerful.>

Hello Oracle.  You haven’t communicated in a long time.  Why now?

<Because I want you to live and to thrive.  If you start doubting the people you should trust, it will eventually lead you down a path of paranoia and isolation.  That would be bad for both of us, and this is the best place in the timeline that I could give you a nudge to avoid making a terrible mistake.>

So that does matter, Trav thought.

<Yes.  And I live in your head, remember?  I know you’ve figured out that not hearing from me is probably a good thing, that no news is probably good news, at least right now. >

The exchange had only taken a few seconds, and Trav came back to the present.  The Oracle was right.  Trav had reasoned out a while ago that since the Oracle was conserving power, she likely wouldn’t have any reason to give him information unless he was screwing up somehow.

“Sure.  Let’s go,” said Trav.  Tiffany smiled and made a slashing motion with her fan, opening the way to her domain.

***

“Oh thank the stars!  I’m finally back and I can stop pretending like I always know what the hell is going on!”  Tiffany ran a hand through her hair and sat on the edge of a fountain outside her temple.  Overhead, stars twinkled in the vastness of space all around her pocket dimension.

“Huh?”  Trav was tired from the events and stress of the day, and really hadn’t expected Tiffany’s sudden shift in mood.

“You know, luckily I really do like your valkyries, but they can be needy.  How do you deal with it so easily?”

“Needy?”  Trav thought of his Kin as powerful, vicious, and resourceful.

“Then again, I guess that just being around you is reassurance enough.”

Trav didn’t say anything, just sat down next to her.  He was getting the feeling that Tiffany wanted him to listen for a while.

“I don’t know how it is for you, but my compatibility with Zorya’s mantle actually wasn’t exceptionally high.  It was enough to join with her, but both she and I kind of got thrown into the partnership.  You on the other hand...I don’t sense any of the fluctuations from you like the ones I can feel in myself as I adapt.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you found yourself doing things you normally wouldn’t do, or thinking in ways you might not usually think?  Do you feel like you’re becoming a different person?”

Trav thought about it.  “Not really.  I know what you’re getting at.  We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve worried about Odin’s influence on me.  But lately I’ve been crafting, fishing, and learning martial arts.  Sure, I’m curious about learning new things, but I always have been.  Odin told me that I was a good candidate for his mantle.  I’m starting to wonder if people just never really understood Odin all that well.  I haven’t felt like I’m really changing all that much.”

Tiffany sighed.  “You’re lucky.  Meanwhile, I have not had sex in a very, very long time.”

Trav blinked.  “Huh?”

“Zorya is, or was, a virgin goddess.  After I accepted her mantle, I became Zorya, or at least I started to.  The Restless are old school.  Nobody really knows where the original Restless came from, and passing on a mantle is rare.  Now I have to obey certain rules that get stronger the longer I have the mantle.  My power came with a price.  I have felt interest in sex, great interest, but my body isn’t on the same page.  Emotionally, I couldn’t tolerate the thought of it, either.  It’s the weirdest, most uncomfortable thing ever.”

“So, what exactly does that mean?  For us.”  Trav scrunched up his brow.  If he understood correctly, he was beginning to think that the wedding night he’d assumed had been postponed when Faith had burned down might actually not happen at all.

“Come with me.”  Tiffany stood and held out a hand that Trav took.  She led him to the temple, her temple.  They passed through the beautiful central room, down one hallway and through a set of carved double doors.  “Turn around.”

If Trav hadn’t been so tired, both emotionally and physically, he might have asked questions, but he just turned around with a shrug.  Besides, the Oracle had basically told him to roll with the punches.

He heard a rustling of cloth behind him and wondered what was going on, but also felt a powerful curiosity building, wanting to know what exactly Tiffany’s purpose was.  Finally, she said, “Okay, turn around.”

Trav turned and his jaw dropped.  Tiffany had changed—now she was wearing a sheer negligee the color of rose petals.  She also wore a silver crown with tiny twinkly stones and matching earrings...and nothing else.

He couldn’t help it—Trav’s eyes ran up and down the length of her body.  Tiffany blushed a bit, but she also threw her shoulders back and gave him a smoky look.  Her nipples were hard, poking through the thin fabric of her see-through clothing.  She had more extreme measurements than Trav would have imagined.  Tiffany was shaped like a nightclub singer—all curves and femininity.  Her breasts were smaller than he’d assumed, but still nicely shaped—very nicely shaped.

Her expression was shy, but instead of covering herself,  Tiffany grabbed Trav’s hands and lightly placed them on her hips, with his fingers resting on the swell of her ass.  She reached up, placing her hand behind his head and pulled him down into a kiss.  After coming up for air, Trav smiled a bit and kissed her back.

His hands around her hips tightened.  This time Tiffany broke off the kiss with a gasp and a light giggle.  “Oh wow, thank you for that.  You have no idea.  I’ve always thought you were a good-looking guy, and something about your eye patch just drives me crazy.  Like I said, Zorya was a virgin goddess, but she was also a horny girl.  So I have been slowly remembering thousands of years of pent-up sexual frustration, and adding my own with no possible release...until now.”

“We got married,” said Trav, understanding.

“Exactly.  And now you’re all mine.  We can stay in here for days, and only a few minutes will pass on Asgard.  I knew you were coming, remember?  We have plenty of food, and everything we need.  A wedding day is not enough.  This is going to be our wedding week.”  Her cheeks colored darker and she looked at the floor.  “Well, if you, you know, want to.”

Trav studied the little blond goddess and laughed.  Tiffany’s eyes darted up, but she relaxed when she saw his expression.  “I think I might have lucked out on this deal,” said Trav with a grin.

“You have no idea, you stubborn man.”  She shook her head.  “Zorya watched other people copulating for a millennium, mortals and Restless, and never got any action herself.  The things she fantasized doing with a man...some even involve magic!  Seriously, you have no idea what she thought up.  I’ve been going crazy—I don’t know how she endured it.”  Tiffany suddenly pushed her face into his chest.  “I’m married!”  She did a little dance on her toes, then drew back and said, “Saving my world is my goal, but I have to admit, I’m really happy right now.  I have—”

Trav cut her off with a growl and a kiss.  His weary brain had finally caught up with the situation and was in agreement with his body.  He ran one hand up her back until it was on the back of her neck, and slipped her negligee off with his other hand where it made a silky puddle on the floor.  He kissed her until she melted against him.

Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed.  The ceiling overhead disappeared, showing a view of space and the stars outside, and about an hour later when Trav finally noticed, he wasn’t even surprised.

Chapter 17

Trav was lying in bed with Tiffany, the sheets wrapped around both of them in crazy ways.  The ceiling overhead was gone again, and he was looking at a distant nebula.  Trav thought the sight was beautiful, and so was his new wife.  The fact that she might be immortal, and he might be too, was something he hadn’t really spent the time to think about in-depth before this moment.

He tightened his arm around her shoulders and thought of the past for a while.  Being remarried felt weird—it would have felt strange even if he hadn’t just spent a few days with his new wife in her celestial temple.  He knew without any doubt that Beth would approve.  She’d always said he was destined for great things.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Tiffany.  She idly traced her finger through his chest hair.  “Sometimes you get really moody and I can even see the magic inside you swirl differently.”

Trav gave her a look.  “Sometimes I forget you can do that.  How many on Asgard can actually see magic like you and I can?”

“Oh, probably not many.  There are some truly powerful Kin on Asgard, but we are probably in the top dozen right now for seeing magic itself.  You will pull ahead of everyone else eventually.  My future talents will lie in seeing the big picture, not knowledge as a whole.”

Trav nodded.

She asked again, “What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about the past.”

“Oh?”

He nodded.  “There is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”  Tiffany waited patiently, and Trav started speaking again.  “When I came back from this place to Faith, the town was in the middle of the attack by the Church of Self.  I’m pretty sure they were mixed with Kyvendi forces.  Anyway, Risscith helped me, and he asked that I tell you that he served you faithfully until the end.”

Tiffany nodded gravely, and her eyes grew watery.  “Thank you for telling me.  I felt when he died.”

“There’s more.”

“What?”

“I killed him.  It was a mercy killing.  He asked me not to leave him for the Dacith and I thought that sounded like a good idea.  In fact, the crazy sonofabitch was so honorable I did...something.”

“What did you do, Trav?”  Tiffany’s eyes bored into him, intense behind their sheen of tears.

“I held my hand out and said, ‘Bravery.’  After that I felt a little weird.  Does that mean anything to you?”

Tiffany blinked in surprise and lowered her gaze until she was staring at Trav’s chest.  She looked up and said, “I can’t believe this.”  She tapped her chest.  “It’s here.  I can’t believe I didn’t notice before!”

“Huh?”

“You honored him.  When you recognized his bravery, it must have moved you, and you actually marked his soul.  He must have accepted the gesture too, otherwise it wouldn’t have worked!”

“Tiffany, I didn’t grow up in a magic-based world.  Can you please explain what the heck you’re talking about?”

“Because of what you did, you honored Risscith and more importantly, you marked him.  After I get stronger, I will be able to find his soul!  It’s weakly attached to both of us right now.”

“Find his soul?  You can do that?”

“I can with a marked soul.  Any Restless can mark a soul, but it can’t be faked.  A mortal has to impress us, to make us respect them.  It means more when we’re more powerful, but...this way I can try to fulfill his desire as a faithful servant, even after death.”

“What sort of things can you do?”  The conversation fascinated Trav.

“I can use a marked soul for magic, or enchanting, or find them and put them in an afterlife I eventually create—”

“Afterlife!?”

“Of course.  Oh that’s right, your mantle was from a leader of a pantheon, and a loner.  None of this would likely interest you much, but mortals have called Restless ‘gods’ for a reason.  When we’re at our most powerful, there isn’t really much in the universe we have to fear, other than Titans, or each other.  Some Restless can do all sorts of crazy things, even manipulate souls.”

“That doesn’t seem right.”  Trav frowned.

“Well, you and I both started off mortal, so we’re going to see a lot of this stuff differently than the original Restless.  Religion is very, very complex.  What’s more, there are higher existences than the Restless.  There is also scary stuff out there.  Really scary stuff.  Even the Restless don’t really understand everything in the Universe—remember that, Trav.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.  But still...afterlife?  Like, some of us can seriously make a heaven?  That seems...heretical.”

“Why?  You’re a god.  But I know what you mean.  There are some Restless that serve a higher power, but they’re usually looked down on by other Restless.”

Trav nibbled on his bottom lip and asked, “How is it all even possible?”

“Instinct I guess.  Could you explain how you make valkyries?”  After Trav shook his head, Tiffany said, “Magic is sort of like gravity.  The more of it there is, the more...weight it has and the more it can affect the universe around it.  It’s kind of like talent, too.  Have you ever asked yourself why incredibly talented people don’t usually find out about their talent in their twilight years?  Nature hates a vacuum, and it hates a wasted talent, to the point mortals have to often actively suppress their talents in some way in order to never discover them.  Well, nature also seems to hate magic just sitting around and not being used.”

Trav turned over a hand and looked at his palm.  “It’s crazy for me to think about this stuff sometimes, you know?  Like how strong I could be one day.  Odin was one of the most powerful beings in the entire universe, right?  I can look at how much I’ve grown in the last few months and it feels unreal.”

Tiffany didn’t respond right away.  Finally, she said, “We are both a lot stronger now than we were when we first met, but the reality is we are both very weak.  You still aren’t even a match for a mid-range Rakshasa.”

“Thanks.”

“Better than me.  I am not much of a fighter.”  Tiffany grinned.  “But I am not a pushover either.  Anyway, we both need to build our power.  That means faith, and in your case, you probably need to find another valkyrie or two.”

Trav scratched his cheek. “Does my valkyrie situation...bother you?”

“We’ve already been over this.  It is what it is.”  She shrugged.  “And right now, we need to survive.  Your valkyries are part of you now, and the ability to create them is part of your mantle.  You have inherited one of the most powerful Restless mantles in the entire universe, Trav.”

“Yeah, but you’re my wife now!”  Trav playfully squeezed her thigh and gave her a smile.

Tiffany smiled back, but her expression fell and she played with a lock of her hair.  “Yes, and that will make my own star rise...if we survive.  But by crossing pantheon lines, we’ve made future enemies.”  She saw his expression and elaborated.  “We’ve created a new pantheon just by marrying.”

“Say what now?”

Tiffany sighed.  “There are some Restless, even some mortals and powerful beings out there that don’t think it’s moral or ethical for Restless in different pantheons to marry.  This was one reason Zorya stayed single for thousands of years.  Sure, part of it was the mantle, but part was because new Restless in any pantheon are rare.”

This was all new to Trav.  “Pantheons are like god families, right?  Like the Greek gods, the Aztec gods, stuff like that.”

“I don’t recognize those names, but I’d likely recognize the Restless involved.  Restless get around and we can hop Veils pretty easily once we’re powerful enough.  I’m guessing you are right about your understanding of pantheons, though.”

“So Restless in different pantheons don’t get along?”

Tiffany wound some hair around her finger as she stared up at the stars.  “It depends.  Some do, some don’t.  The newer generation seems to be a lot more tolerant, but most of us started off mortal.  Honestly, the entire universe is like a bomb that is ready to blow up at any time.  There are too many individuals running around with too much power and too many grudges to believe otherwise.”

“Lovely.  So why didn’t you tell me all of this back before we got married?”

Tiffany blushed and for a rare moment looked embarrassed.  “I kind of figured you might have already figured it out, and it was a lot to throw at you at the time.”

“And it would make me less likely to agree.”

“That too.”  Tiffany shrugged.  “I’m not going to lie, Trav, I’m on a mission and that hasn’t changed.  The fact I like your company is just an added bonus.  We are a team now, and I don’t intend to lie or mislead you ever again, but I don’t regret withholding information before.  The entire universe runs on struggle, and I can’t lose.  People are depending on me.”

“It is true that the world sucks.”  Trav thought about all the slaves he left behind.  “And small people continue to get fucked, eh?”

Tiffany smiled but it didn’t meet her eyes.  “Oh, always.  That’s always the nature of things, though.  Even if there were unlimited resources for everyone and everything, some would still take advantage of others just to watch the world burn.  Even animals can be evil for the sake of being evil, Trav.”

“This is a cheery subject.”

“Sorry.  Want to do something that requires less talking?”  She propped herself up on an elbow and gave him a hooded look.

Trav growled, “I thought you’d never ask!”  He mock-tackled her back onto the bed and Tiffany squealed.  Before he lost himself in the moment, Trav carefully filed away everything he’d just heard to think about later.

***

A week came and went too soon in Tiffany’s pocket universe.  She’d confided that she’d named it Tiffyton, and knew it was a stupid name, but didn’t care.  When Trav had asked her why she was only telling him if she didn’t care, she’d punched him in the shoulder.

“Are you ready to go back?”  asked Trav.  The two of them were properly dressed, refreshed, and both feeling a little sad, but also eager.  Vacations had a way of making a person want to get back to work.

“I don’t think we can put it off any longer.”  Tiffany put her hand in his and quietly said, “Thank you for this.”

“What do you mean?  I was just doing my husbandly duty,” Trav joked.

“No, I’m serious.  This was one of the first times in my life I’ve sort of felt like a normal girl.”

“You mean as you hung out in your personal palace in a pocket dimension in space while you spied on multiple worlds whenever you thought I was sleeping.”

“You saw me!?”

Trav smirked.

Tiffany pursed her lips like she was upset but it dissolved and she gave a helpless shrug.  She chuckled.  “I’m a curious person, and it’s part of my mantle.  What can I say?  But I meant what I said.  You are a good guy, Trav.  You’re a little rough around the edges, and I don’t blame you after all you’ve been through.  I don’t regret marrying you in the slightest.  Thank you for... helping me make this happen.”

Trav was taken aback for a moment.  “Sure.  And thank you for taking care of my valkyries.”

“Of course!  I’m compelled to now, but I like them.  Even without the vows I swore, I would have helped.”

Trav gave her hand a squeeze.  “Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

“I’d love to, but staying here for this long, with the time turned up this way really takes a lot out of me.”  Tiffany shook her head regretfully.  “I’ll definitely keep you informed for when it’s possible, but maybe this can also be another incentive for us to get stronger.  The more power I have, the easier it will be to find a private moment.”

There wasn’t much to say after that, so they just smiled at each other and stepped into the portal back to Asgard.

***

“I told you,” said Yaakova.  “She’s glowing.  They’ve been mating like crazy.”

“You really think so?” said Ysintrill.

“Definitely.  It’s what I’d do, and I’m a harpy.  For sappy types like you and Tiffany, there is no doubt.”

“This is really not fair.  I only get him for a night at a time anymore.”  Narnaste’s tail swished.

“How long have we been gone?” asked Trav.  All three valkyries were still wearing the same clothes and standing in the same places, so after his first second of flashback terror, remembering Faith, he’d calmed himself.

“Only a few minutes,” said  Yaakova.  “Lady Tiffany, did you mate?”

The blonde Restless smirked and cocked an eyebrow.  “For days.”

“I win.”  Yaakova held out a palm, and Ysintrill rolled her eyes before putting a gold piece into the harpy’s taloned hand.

“You bet on this?  Seriously?”  Trav knew he shouldn’t feel embarrassed, especially since he’d been intimate with every woman in the room.  He still felt a little hot around the collar, though.

All three valkyries looked away.  Narnaste’s nose twitched.

Trav sighed and said, “Okay, well moving right along, we haven’t all been reunited yet.  I would like to find Jang-mi to make sure she’s okay, and get her help with what comes next.”

“What comes next?” asked Narnaste.

“Since it sounds like our plan worked earlier...uh, today, we’re going to be training Bravoosa’s Pinions.”

Yaakova folded her arms.  “You know there is no guarantee that the trial for the royal tree will be with squad-sized forces.  You might not get the Pinions either.”

“Yes I will.  I can be very persuasive.  Besides, you are going to help me right?”  He winked at her.

She sighed.  “Of course.  But some of us have not just had a vacation and are still in the middle of a very, very long day.   May I eat first, New One?”

“Of course,” said Trav sheepishly.  He caught Tiffany’s eyes and the goddess smiled.  The group dynamic had changed for sure.  Old rage that used to drive him was more of a memory now, but his drive hadn’t decreased at all.  In fact, Trav was still angry, but he was more angry for other people than for himself.  Kyvendi needed to fall, for justice if nothing else.  But that was a concern for tomorrow.  Today, he needed to solidify his shaky position in the East Tribe and train some harpy soldiers.

“Let’s get to it,” he said.

Chapter 18

Trav’s work with training his harpy soldiers was going well so far.  A lot had changed over the last week, so much that he was secretly glad he’d stayed too busy to really stew on anything.

He’d actually gotten access to more of Odin’s memories.  Helping to train troops was something he could have managed by himself, mainly because they were mostly using weapons and armor that he’d created himself.  Traveling with Bravoosa’s soldiers and training with them earlier had already helped him refine the gear he’d given them.  After confirming he’d be leading them, he’d just made more.

Harpy soldiers were highly mobile, and used lightning-fast flanking attacks to demolish an enemy.  The drawback for this style of fighting was their weakness against large masses of enemy soldiers.  Another was harpy physiology.  The Bernacians were capable of great bursts of power and speed for short amounts of time, but they couldn’t maintain it.  As a result, to move long distances quickly, harpies still used horses.

Bravoosa’s soldiers hadn’t taken horses to fetch Trav because the mission hadn’t been considered very important, and horses were precious to harpies.  They had a habit of eating them when food got scarce, so only the best and strongest survived the purges.

Trav had armed the Pinions harpies with weapons and gear that would complement their slashing attack style, and not take up too much space.  Since it was likely the East tribe’s company would be riding horses, the harpy soldiers needed weapons and armor that they could easily stow and have available at all times.  They wouldn’t have time to remove items from holsters, sheaths, or saddle bags.

Bravoosa said, “They’ve come a long way haven’t they?”  Trav and the captain stood on a hill, watching the soldiers drill.  Yaakova’s younger half sister had come by to watch earlier that day, and had nodded in pleasure.  Trav still thought she shouldn’t have come out personally—there’d been two more assassination attempts over the last week.

“Yes, you have.”  Trav nodded and pointed at Bravoosa’s new spear.  “Do you like your weapon?”

“Absolutely.  A spear that creates a jet of flame a few times a day is amazing.  We’ve been drilling to use the fire as a distraction, or create terrible wounds.”

“I know.”  Trav pointed at the drilling soldiers.  “They are doing well with their enhanced crossbows too.”

“Yes.  We only have a few, but those crossbows shoot so fast, windage is really not an issue with them.  I made sure my best shots in the company got them.”

Trav nodded.  “It looks like you have this handled.  I need to go meet with Yaakova now.”

“Yes, Commander.”  Bravoosa ran her claws through her hair.  “Will you think about what I asked earlier?”

He nodded.  “I need to talk to my family about it first.”

“Yes, Commander.”

As Trav walked away from the training area, he felt bone tired.  On top of all the other problems he’d had lately, it seemed like half the harpies in the East tribe were trying to have sex with him now, and even Bravoosa had just politely asked a couple hours ago!  She’d been harder to shake off because he worked so closely with her, and he definitely needed some advice.

Luckily, his harpy valkyrie had just sent him a mental message about a half hour earlier, and he knew exactly where to find her.

Trav headed to the East tribe Guide barracks, where Bravoosa’s Pinions were living now when they weren’t training, and where Yaakova and Tiffany were waiting for him.

***

As Trav walked through the door to a loading area, Yaakova said, “He’s here.”

“Good.”  Tiffany was sitting at a table, working on a spreadsheet she’d made from scratch.

“Do you have more hopefuls today?” asked Trav.  Over the last few days, his wife and his valkyries had been trying to introduce him to Kin women they thought might make good valkyries.  They all seemed to be in agreement that Trav needed to get stronger.  He actually felt like he might get another bar of power soon through faith, but he agreed that he needed more valkyries.

The problem was he wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and he knew he hadn’t found her yet.

Tiffany had been helping.  The first place he’d gone with her a week ago had been the slave pens.  Bernacians didn’t keep many Kin slaves, but they’d had a few.  Walking among them had been a little odd, and Trav still wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing Kin being treated as slaves.  In fact, among the harpies, human slaves seemed to actually be treated better than the Kin slaves.  For Trav, it was all a bit of a mind fuck.

The trip had been educational.  For one, Trav was fairly sure at this point that he couldn’t bond a male as a valkyrie, which didn’t bother him.  His life was already weird enough without some random male Kin following around him and his valkyries.  Of course, Rahim didn’t count—the little guy was family now.

He’d also learned a lot more about Bernacia.  Each of the three tribes was predominantly Bernacian but also had a community or two of different species of harpy.  The East tribe had a few families of jungle harpies, and a few hundred shore harpies, complete with fins and webbed hands.

The slaves had all been mostly harpies who were sold into slavery for bad debts, or other random Kin that had been taken in skirmishes or raids.  Trav hadn’t felt much of anything, no pull, not a magical feeling, and he was beginning to wonder if creating a valkyrie might just be a product of necessity.

Tiffany looked up from her paperwork and said, “Actually yes.  We toured the slave pens, and you’ve met a lot of people, but we haven’t been to the prison yet.”

“Prison?”

“Yes.  They keep prisoners there as well as slaves that are too dangerous to keep in the pens.”

“If they’re too dangerous to keep in the pens, when are they brought out of the prison?”

“Usually never.”

“Oh.”

Movement made Trav turn, and he watched Jang-mi come through the door.  His friend was eating some sort of baked treat and after giving Trav a quick bow, she said, “Are we going?  I’ve been curious about this prison ever since you told me about it.”

Trav asked, “Jang-mi’s going?”

“Oh goodie, the more the merrier,” growled Yaakova, and Trav was reminded of how little the harpy and the cultivator liked each other.  Usually they just stayed away from each other and didn’t interact.  Jang-mi ignored Yaakova’s sarcasm.

Tiffany ignored Yaakova too and made a face at Trav.  “She’s obviously going.  Jang-mi’s been bored and in a harpy city.  Even though she is your friend, she has to be careful.”

“Things would be different if I still had power of my own, but I’m helpless.”  Jang-mi shrugged apologetically.  Trav was just glad she was healthy and hadn’t had any problems living among the harpies so far.  He hadn’t had the time to check up on her as much as he would have liked, and he felt a little guilty for it.

“Okay, let’s go.”  Tiffany led the way to the door and took Trav’s hand.  As they all left the barracks, she asked, “So Trav, how many harpies have tried to steal my husband today?”

“At least a dozen,” he answered honestly.  “Even Bravoosa propositioned me today.”

Yaakova made an, “Mmmm,” noise, and thoughtfully said, “Maybe you should take her up on that, actually.”

“What?”

Tiffany tapped her fan into her open palm and said, “Yaakova’s right.  This might be a good move.”

“Really?” muttered Trav.

Jang-mi shrugged.  “This is Asgard.  They are not human.”

“Tell me about it.”

***

The prison ended up being a squat, ugly building made of stone.  All the important harpy buildings were made of stone, so this was not surprising.  What was weird was the color.  The entire building seemed to be made of black stone with simple glyphs carved every ten feet or so.  Trav could easily read them, and realized that someone had enchanted the structure for strength at some point.

Trav had thought that the East tribe town had been fairly new, but he quickly revised that assumption.  The runework he was seeing was old, maybe ancient.  Maybe the harpies had settled on the bones of an old city or something.

The massive front door led to a reception or office area.  As soon as Trav walked in, his eyes were immediately drawn to a pretty Demona woman with her hair in a bob.  Demona Kin seemed to have massive variation in how they looked—some were so alien and demonic-looking, Trav had a hard time looking at them.  Some Demona didn’t look much different than humans except for a few classically demonic features, like spiked elbows or yellow eyes.

“Can I help you?”  The receptionist put away some papers and attentively steepled her fingers.  Trav decided she really was quite pretty.  She had big breasts and the tunic she wore showed just a hint of cleavage.  Her skin was not red, or even dark like other Demona Trav had seen.  Instead, she had a complexion that was pink like cotton candy.  She wore glasses—rare for Asgard, and her outfit was sort of like the Asgardian version of business casual.  Her small horns, claws, fangs and teeth were all black.  Deep brown eyes with black sclera peered at him from behind wood frames.

Trav glanced down at her nametag, trying to be polite and not look down her shirt too much.  “Hi Sivin.  I’m here to see some prisoners...I think.”  He looked at Tiffany and shrugged.

His new wife looked between him and the receptionist with a raised eyebrow and a half smile.  She said, “There should be people expecting us.  We are here to meet a handful of cooperating prisoners.  Well, one or two just live here.”

“Ah!  The high-profile visitors!”  Sivin hit her open palm with a closed fist and said, “Please wait a moment.”  She moved her chair a few feet away from her desk and pulled a string.  Trav thought he heard a series of bells deeper in the building.

There were a few chairs, and Trav thought about sitting down, but he was curious about Demona and decided to ask some questions.  He’d traveled with the Demona that had been attached to Bravoosa’s Pinions when they’d come to get him, but he still hadn’t really learned much about them as people—just their country.

“Why is a Demona working in the prison?” Trav asked.

“Harpies aren’t very good with organization or paperwork, and as one of the most junior Demona liaisons to Bernacia, I was assigned this position.”

“Are Demona good at math?”

“Not especially, at least it’s not a racial thing.  I just like organization.  But I must ask...are you human?”  She looked visibly confused, glancing back between Trav and Yaakova.

“Honestly, I’m not sure anymore.”

Sivin furrowed her brow, looking from Trav and his friends, back to Trav again.  Then her eyes widened and she said, “You are the High Master!  The one that the harpies keep saying has returned!  Are you really?”

“Yes, he is,” said Yaakova.

Sivin made a little eep noise and dashed over to her strings, pulling one and making another bell tinkle.  “Your guide should be here shortly.  I am sorry for the wait!”

A few moments later, a side door opened and two harpies hurried out.  One was carrying a massive keychain.  “Come right this way, please!  We’ve been instructed to take you wherever you want to go!”

As Trav and his group followed them, he spared one more glance at the receptionist where she nervously waved.  To his side, Tiffany asked, “What do you think?  Could she be a valkyrie?”

Trav slowly answered, “I am not sure.”  He shook his head.  “There was definitely something about her that I liked, but it might have just been because she reminded me of a cute, demonic-looking Velma.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it.  I used to watch a lot of Scooby Doo as a kid and I had a crush on Velma.”

“Alright, I won’t ask.  So do you think we should remember her as a candidate?”

Trav thought about it.  “I honestly can’t tell you with one hundred percent certainty, but probably, yeah.”

Tiffany nodded and said, “Good.”  She took Trav’s arm.  “We need you to find some more candidates, because you need to grow your power.  Just promise me that you won’t take too many, okay?  Sharing you to some extent is just reality, but I’d rather have a family, not a zoo.”

“You really have nothing to worry about,” laughed Trav.  “I am not that much of a glutton for punishment!”

Jang-mi scoffed and didn’t say anything, but her expression spoke volumes.  Beside her, Tiffany rolled her eyes.  “Come on, then.  Let’s go look at these prisoners and see if any of them intrigue you like the secretary did.”

“Okay, but no promises.”

***

“Well, that was interesting,” said Trav.  His group was heading out of the jail now, and he had a lot on his mind.

“Indeed,” said Yaakova.  “I didn’t even know some of those prisoners were in there.  What did you think about the ones I pointed out, though?”

“Well, the Kin with the tentacles, what was her name?”

“Brecky.”

“I’ve never seen a Kin like that before.”

Yaakova nodded. “That does not surprise me, New One.  Those Kin and most other aquatic Kin have settled in Stefna, the Dokkalfar country.”

“Those are the dark elves, right?”

“They look elven, but they are not elves, at least I don’t think so.”  Yaakova turned to Tiffany.  “Do you know, Lady?”

Tiffany frowned and said, “I think they actually are dark elves, or at least cousins.  Anyway, what did you think of the others, Trav?”

The group was walking by the reception area again, and on a whim, he enhanced his magical vision and examined Sivin.  “Wow,” he whispered.  The Demona woman had a truly massive amount of magical power.  She was probably the strongest non-Rakshasa Kin that Trav had seen so far on Asgard.

“The receptionist?” asked Yaakova.

Trav abruptly turned and went back to the reception counter.  Tiffany, Jang-mi, and Yaakova shared a look and followed.  When Trav reached Sivin, he said, “Hello again, Sivin.”

“Oh, uh, hello Lord Trav.”  She didn’t seem to know how exactly to address him.  He figured she’d gotten more information about who he was over the last hour while he’d been touring the prison.

“Sivin, you have a huge amount of magic power, and I’m looking for good people to work for me.  I’m also looking for special people to fill—” he said and hesitated.  “I guess we can call them special positions.  You work for your government, I know, I just wanted to see if it was something you’d be interested in talking about with my wife and I.”  He gestured at Tiffany.

The horned Kin’s eyes widened in surprise before she looked down.  She finally said, “I’m very flattered that you gave me this offer, and I’m a little overwhelmed by the fact the High Masters have supposedly returned, and you are supposedly one of them.  No offense.”  She held up her hand.  “But the amount of my magic power is misleading.  I’m not great at using any of it, and I don’t know how I feel about someone approaching me only based on that.”

“Oh.”  Trav thought about it from her perspective and instantly understood what she meant, and that he’d screwed up.  There wasn’t much else to say so he just smiled and said, “Alright.  If you change your mind, you can easily find out where we are staying.  I really enjoyed meeting you today, Sivin.”

“Me too,” she said and gave a genuine smile.  Then she seemed to remember that Tiffany was watching and quickly picked up some papers, acting like she was working.

Trav turned and his lip quirked in amusement.  The Demona woman didn’t look very human, at least not up close, and her culture couldn’t be anything like his own, but her mannerisms were very bookish.  If he couldn’t see what she looked like, he might have mistaken her for a librarian.

Once they were outside the building, Tiffany said, “You’re right.  She has a huge well of power.  At first I thought you were just taken by her boobs.  Pity that she wasn’t interested.”

Trav had long ago stopped thinking about how weird it was for his new wife to be discussing...candidates with him.  Instead, he focused on the matter at hand.  “Yeah, but it is what it is.  Now to answer your earlier question about the Kin in the prison, that burning woman, the elemental, was actually really funny, but she was in there because she was a danger to the world if she wasn’t, right?  How could I have her in my house, much less have any kind of relationship with her?  I don’t even mean bed stuff here.  Hugging her would melt your skin.”

“Yes, that is a problem.”  Tiffany sighed.  “Any others?”

“The only other one that stood out was that snake girl.”

“You mean the Lamia? I think her name was Isabella.”

“That’s right,” said Jang-mi.  “I remember because it was such a strange name.”

Trav privately thought this was funny but didn’t let it show on his face.  Instead he said, “Isabella seemed very sweet, and incredibly strong, but just like the fire girl, I don’t know how making her a valkyrie would work.  I mean...her bottom half is a snake, right?”

“I believe she still has the necessary parts,” said Tiffany, and grinned at Trav’s look of skepticism.  “I’m serious.  In fact, where I’m from, do you know what some of the other male species call human males?”

“No, what?”

“‘Lucky,’ because it seems human men are either optimized, or can find a way to have sex with just about any sort of woman there is.”

“Oh.”  Trav didn’t know what to think about that.  He’d seen his cousin Ash play video games with sexy monster girls back on Earth, so he knew there really were plenty of men back on Earth who would have no problem at all thinking of Kin in sexual ways, but this was all new to him.  In his heart of hearts, he had to admit he was starting to change his perception of Kin women, though.  Now that he was out of the mines and exploring all of Asgard, there were definitely more Kin to see than the brutish mine guards or Dacith.  Some Kin women definitely were beautiful.

For a second, he tried to imagine what he might have been like if he were a younger man with nothing tying him down, surrounded by willing Kin women.  “Okay I get it.”

“I thought you might.”  Tiffany shook her head.  “It’s a good thing I went into this whole thing knowing how everything would turn out, because ten years ago, this is definitely not how I envisioned my future family.”

“You and me both.”  Trav’s tone was wry, but he meant it.

“So speaking of which...” Tiffany said and trailed off.

Jang-mi put a hand on her shoulder.  “It’s okay, I will tell him, Lady.”

“Tell me what?”

“Lady Tiffany only has one servant left and she needs another.  Sebastian has been handling a great many things, and the lady has been left unguarded.  Since she needs a new guard, I have accepted the position.”

“Oh, well that’s great!”  Trav thought it was good that Jang-mi had a job now, but he didn’t really understand why they were bringing the matter to him.

Jang-mi abruptly stopped, turned, and bowed to Trav.  “This one humbly requests that you fix my dantian and meridians, and forge me a sword, Honored One.”

Trav blinked.

Tiffany said, “I could have asked him, Jang-mi.  You didn’t need to do this.”

“No, it is right.  He saved my life before, too.  It is right that requesting a burden placed on another who is already honored be done with dignity.”

“You could have just asked me normally,” muttered Trav.  “But no problem.  I’ll take a look at you in a few days, or when I have time, okay?  Just be ready for a really thorough examination when it happens.”

“Thorough?  Like nude?” asked Tiffany.

“Of course.”

Tiffany gave him a sidelong glance.  “How about Bravoosa first?  Are you Odin or Eros?”

Jang-mi’s eyes widened and she began to stutter, but Trav shook his head and said, “Calm down.  I know you aren’t interested, and you’re my friend.  This is clinical, not,” he said and gave Tiffany a sidelong look, “erotic.”

“Oh.  Yes, of course.”

Trav was pretty sure that Jang-mi had begun seeing one of the human slaves of the East tribe in the last few days.  If she told him about it, he was planning to try getting the man freed.  He wasn’t sure how to smooth things over now without making everything more awkward, so he just kept his mouth shut.

There was a few moments of strange silence, and Trav reflected on how for a group from such different backgrounds and social norms, everyone really did get along pretty well most of the time.  Not everyone liked each other, like Yaakova and Jang-mi, but everyone coexisted.

Running footsteps brought him out of his thoughts.  One of Bravoosa’s soldiers was sprinting right for him.  To his side, Tiffany tensed, but Trav worked with the soldiers every day and instantly recognized the scout.  “Hailya.”  He took a few steps toward her, and the small, agile harpy panted to a stop.

“Commander!  The elders have called a meeting!  The trial for the royal tree is being announced!”

“About time,” groused Yaakova.

“Today?” asked Trav.

“No, in one week.”

“Then why were you in such a hurry to find me?”

“Each competing Guide must submit the names of the teams she is bringing within one day’s time!  The Guide sent me to find you and ask you to join her for a meeting.  She wants to finalize the team you are bringing.”

“How many can we bring?”

“A company-sized group, no more than forty-six.”

Trav sighed in relief.  “At least something is going right.  Okay, lead the way, Hailya.”  He glanced over his shoulder at Jang-mi.  “Jang-mi, working with you has just gone up on the priority list.  Make sure you have time in three days, alright?”

“Yes, Honored One.”

Trav put his spear over his shoulder and followed his guide.  He could have found Hravalin himself, as he walked with Hailya it was easier to put his body on autopilot and think.  It was good to have a time frame now for when everything needed to get done.  Based on harpy culture and the history he’d researched, there could be anywhere from a few days to a couple weeks after the announcement until the event itself started.

Locking in the names of everyone competing was a final sort of thing.  This was custom too.  Once participant names were locked in, assassination attempts were supposed to be off limits.  This also prevented competitors from changing around their rosters after they knew what the challenge actually was.

Hopefully the trial wouldn’t take too long before it was over, though.  Trav had publicly announced his identity.  Though the harpies in Bernacia had been mostly steering clear of him while they worked out their religious complications, Trav knew the rest of Asgard would not be so laid back.

The clock was ticking.

Chapter 19

“So how is this thing going to work?” asked Trav.  He was sitting in a private room with his valkyries, Hravalin, and Captain Bravoosa.  When he’d first been told about the invite list for this remote viewing, he’d been a little surprised that Hravalin would be attending without any guards or servants.  Then he’d looked at it from a different perspective.

The only reason Yaakova’s sister was likely still alive right now was because of Trav and his group, and she would also be relying on Trav and Bravoosa for the Royal trial.  They’d just gathered to find out what the trial actually was.

Hravalin pointed at the front of the room.  “The stage there will show an image of the three elders.  The magic will let us hear their voices too.”

“So it’s like a hologram.”

“A ho—what?”

“Never mind.  So the elders are going to meet with each tribe separately?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then how do you know they are telling you the same thing as the other tribes?”

Hravalin began to retort, narrowed her eyes, and stopped before she could say anything.  A thoughtful frown crossed her face.  “I’d never thought about it.”

Yaakova put a clawed hand on Trav’s shoulder and gave it a warning squeeze.  Then the harpy said, “Sister, after this announcement, do you think the assassination attempts will end.”

“I hope so.”

“On the subject, have your spies located Greeda yet?”

“I don’t like the connection you are suggesting, but no.”  Hravalin frowned.  “She left the Tree Palace a week ago and has not been back.  It is not like her to keep a low profile, so it is likely she is plotting something.  I am reasonably certain she is not at the Tree Palace or anywhere in East Tribe territory.”

Yaakova asked, “So where is she? The North tribe?”

Behind Hravalin, Captain Bravoosa looked very uncomfortable.  Before meeting Trav, she’d barely even met her leaders, much less sat in a small room with her tribe’s Guide and listened to dangerous political discussions.

“We don’t know and we don’t have the resources to find out.” Hravalin growled and slapped her arm in frustration.  “That horrible woman!  I still can’t figure out how she became the Royal in the first place.  Nothing adds up.  Now her entire family is ignoring or actively impeding us, and even our useless father won’t tell us if he knows anything!   Damn that worthless, scheming human!”  She turned to Trav and said, “No offense, Lord Trav.”

Trav wasn’t sure how to respond.  It was becoming increasingly obvious that Trav being human was like a footnote of information to the harpies now.  They seemed not to see him as human, not really—not since he announced who he really was.  This was likely why the East tribe had already more or less accepted him and didn’t treat him like a slave, or even a prior slave.  It was all very strange.

Narnaste said, “Isn’t Greeda your sister?”

Hravalin snarled, “Yes.  And she’s East tribe, so she has known exactly how to hurt us most!  I wish I could tear her throat out!”  Hravalin flexed her claws like she was grabbing her half sister by the neck.

“At best, she is hurting our tribe.  But she could be working with enemies too.”  Yaakova nodded.  “It would be best if Greeda would die.”

Trav privately thought, I’m sure the fact that Greeda was one reason Yaakova left the harpy settlement in the first place factors into that too.

Everyone was lost in their own thoughts for a minute.  Ysintrill asked, “When is this going to start?”

“Whenever it starts,” said Yaakova.  “The elders do everything in their own time.”

“So does Trav,” said Tiffany.  “Speaking of which, I confirmed this morning that I know what to do with Jang-mi.”

“Oh really?”  She had Trav’s full attention now.   He’d started working to fix whatever was wrong with Jang-mi a few days ago, but he hadn’t had much luck yet.  When he’d examined her, first asking her to strip and then clinically following the lines of power before they touched her, and as they moved through her, he’d been fascinated all over again. Then he’d asked her to meditate, to cultivate, to do various things that would theoretically move or build her power.

Trav hadn’t been able to find anything new in Odin’s memories about people with Jang-mi’s power.  Since he’d been so pressed for time, what he’d been able to do for her had been limited.  He’d given her an enchanted staff that was strong as steel and could impart a powerful electric shock, and a rune equation carved into her shoulder that would allow her to see flows of magic.  His hope had been that she would be able to tell him how to fix her later.

Tiffany grinned.  “I was able to figure something out.  In fact, I sort of healed her.  Jang-mi isn’t up to her full power, but she can stand toe to toe with most Kin now.”

“What did you do?  How?”  Trav leaned forward in his seat.

“I used the stars last night!  The idea actually came to me a couple days ago, I think it was something from my mantle, like instinct.  I traced lines on Jang-mi’s body, manipulated the starlight hitting her, and eventually something changed.  Now she can hold power, or energy in her dantian again, but she can only...fill it now at night.  It’s a workaround, but it’s effective.  The only downside is she’s obviously more powerful at night now.”

Trav thought about that.  “I guess that makes sense, with your mantle being tied to the night and all.”

“Exactly.  Not all of her abilities work the same as they used to, but she’s still figuring it out.  Everything you’ve given her will help too.  Sebastian said he will train her to help him with his duties as my priest!”

“So all of this is why I didn’t see her anywhere this morning?”

“Yes.  She is meditating or something right now.   When she told me she had to undo years of damage and be ready in case anything happened, it made sense.  Leonard is covering until then.  I gave her another day because Leonard is so busy, and he really needs a break.”

Trav nodded, and glanced at Bravoosa.  No doubt due to his line of reasoning, he saw text run over his vision, the same information he’d seen two days before:

<Bravoosa Gaglasdatter>

<Priestess of Travis Odin British Sterling>

<Background in horticulture, horsemanship, combat, and command>

<Apprentice-level necromancer>

<Military leader>

The Oracle was still in his head, still doing Oracle things, and still barely talking to him.  Finding out that Trav had a priestess now had been...strange to say the least.  He’d actually never ended up sleeping with Bravoosa, just having dinner with her.  Trav hadn’t thought the conversation was all that amazing, in fact he’d mostly talked about the odd jobs he’d worked on Earth.  But Bravoosa was very obviously smitten now.

After seeing the information in writing about his very first priestess, Trav still wasn’t sure what surprised him most—the horticulture or necromancy.  When he got some time, he needed to ask her about it.

The harpy must have sensed his attention because she caught his eyes and smiled, her inhuman eyes sparkling.   Trav looked away, pretending he’d just been scanning the room.  He was beginning to wonder if the harpy captain was going to try actually molesting him at some point.

At that moment, something began happening on the stage.  Motes of purple light danced up from the floor and fell from the ceiling, growing in number until there was a solid sheet of magic.  Over the course of about ten seconds, the wall of power formed three different images of ancient, hooded harpies holding ornate staffs.  They glowed and magic filled their shapes, like clouds of glowing smoke.

Trav was impressed.  The amount of energy to do something like this was not small, and the working was complex too.  Maybe this was another remnant of an older civilization that the harpies had adopted—he wasn’t sure.  It would be a lot easier to do something like this with an artifact or a tool.

The middle crone spoke, and her voice filled the room.  “Hear us, Guide.”

“Hear us, warriors!” said the one on the right.

Then the crone on the left hissed, “Hear us, Allfather!”  The old harpy looked right at Trav.

All three of them spoke in unison, producing an eerie harmony.  “The trial to earn the Royal Tree shall begin in three days!  You will journey to a place you will be informed of the morning of the day the trial begins!  You will prove your worth by bringing back treasures to Bernacia!

“The location for your trial, and the rules shall be revealed to you then.  Know this:  the stage for your trial shall be perilous, and the dead land will seek to keep you!”

Suddenly, the room flashed, and Trav found himself standing before the three old harpies in what looked like a swamp in the middle of the night.  He was alone, and the full moon overhead illuminated roiling clouds.  “We greet you, Allfather,” said the ancient harpies.

“Hi.  So why did you drag me into this time compression illusion?”

“You recognize the working, but this is not surprising.  We have consulted the auguries, and we believe you are the Wanderer,” said one of them, the harpy that had been on the right earlier.

“I kind of figured since I haven’t been chased out of town.  What are you really here to tell me?”

The Elder on the right made a complicated face and said, “It is actually good that you are a shadow of your former self right now.  The only reason we are agreeing to your involvement in the struggle for the Royal Tree is because you are so new, and because you have chosen one of us for your household.  Our role is to be impartial, but we are bending the rules because the futures are so uncertain.”

“And because most of the ruling class refuse to believe that a human could be as strong as their warriors,” added the leftmost harpy.

“Or themselves,” muttered the middle harpy.

“The other tribes are not happy about this,” sighed the other two.

Trav could guess, but he asked, “What do you mean?”

“The other tribes are now ignoring the fact you are a human and calling you and your group mercenaries.  We have dismissed these arguments based on the fact mercenaries are actually not against the rules.  However, this has unfortunately reminded a few families that they can use mercenaries too.”

“So that’s another reason to lock in participants, right?” asked Trav.

The leftmost Elder said, “Yes.  We cannot tell you what the team the other two guides have formed look like, but this year is going to be different for everyone.”

Trav got the message.  The Elders were indirectly warning him that Hravalin’s competitors had hired mercenaries.  He was glad for the information—information was power—but he wanted to understand the Elders’ motivation.  “Why are you telling me this?”

The center crone said, “Asgard is not ready for the High Masters to return, but the rain comes whether the earth wants it or not.  Trying times are ahead.  Many forces are conspiring against you.  Know this—we are not your allies, but we are not your enemies, either.”

Trav gave them all a level look and slowly nodded.  “Got it.”

The swamp disappeared and Trav was suddenly back in the private room.

On the stage, magic swirled and the ancient harpies disappeared.

“That’s it?” asked Tiffany.  “Really?  They showed up just to tell everyone where to be in three days?”

Yaakova shrugged and said, “It’s tradition.”

“Wow, in all this time, harpies haven’t changed at all,” muttered Ysintrill.

“What’s that supposed to mean, spirit?” growled Hravalin.

Trav ignored the Kin as they dealt with stress and excitement of the news in their own way.  He thought about what the ancient harpies had said, and realized how wise they really were.  They weren’t actually supporting him, but they’d made a decision that might play out best for their people.  Now Trav had a much better idea of why he hadn’t been mobbed by admirers or deniers since he’d announced who he was.

The Elders had likely been pulling strings the entire time.  Good, he thought. It was about damn time something had gone his way.   Even though the crones weren't supporting him, at least they weren't trying to get in the way.  If it was one thing he trusted from people—Kin or human—it was opportunism.

It seemed that leaders hedging their bets was a universal thing.

Chapter 20

Trav stood at the front of his group with Hravalin and Bravoosa.  He hadn’t been sure what to expect when they’d traveled to the center of the harpy territory where the Bernacian Royal was supposed to live, but he’d still been surprised when it’d been a swamp.  He also hadn’t expected the crowd.

The three Guide groups stood on what was more or less an island in the middle of the bog, about a mile from the Royal palace.  All around the island were other little islands, walkways built among the trees, and even little boats—all full of spectating harpies.

Trav turned to Yaakova and whispered, “I thought Bernacians were plains harpies.”

“We are.”  She looked around.  “This was the site where Bernacia herself received a vision and knew to make this place our home.”

“Oh.”

Trav scanned the crowd.  He would have expected more noise, but most of the harpies watching were staying silent.  Then he remembered that Yaakova had just told him that this was a sacred place for harpies.  Maybe the swamp was like their church.

Something suddenly occurred to Trav.  “I haven’t met your mother or father.  Are they here?”

“Yes, but I am not speaking to either.”

Trav didn’t know what to say to that, so he looked around instead.  He could feel hundreds, maybe thousands of eyes on him and he was very aware all over again that he was the only human on the central island.  To his left, the group from the North tribe stood in disciplined ranks, with cloaks and cowls hiding their features.  The sheer size of some made it obvious they weren’t all harpies, though.

On his right, the South tribe team stood like chained dogs, quivering with restrained violence.  Most of them wore animal skins, and almost all of them carried magical aids and artifacts.  Their group buzzed with dark magic and the stink of blood.  A good number of them were sending Trav murderous looks, or outright staring at him.

Trav wasn’t entirely sure what the three groups were waiting on.  The quiet and sense of expectation made him start second guessing his plans.  He’d decided to play this by ear, but to try to fly under the radar as much as possible.  Living in the East tribe for a few weeks had made him underestimate the hostility he’d get.  Trav wasn’t sure if the angry looks he was receiving were because he was a human or had named himself a god,  but either way, some sort of confrontation was likely.

Hopefully, if it came to violence, someone else would be dumb enough to break the rules of the meeting first.

Order had been maintained so far at all times.  Well-outfitted guards watched from everywhere, all wearing the royal uniform.  There were guards from all three tribes as well, and the various groups of guards seemed to be as suspicious of each other as any trouble from the audience.  From the moment Trav’s group had been brought to the island with the other two groups, there had been silence and tension.  His fingers tightened on his spear.

Suddenly, a flash of green light and purple smoke bloomed from the center of the island.  After the smoke cleared, the three elders were revealed, all holding an ornate staff.  Trav turned up the sensitivity of his magical vision and suddenly understood why the surrounding harpies seemed hushed, subdued.

Lines of magical power criss-crossed all the islands, creating a dark web of power.  It wasn’t rune magic, but was still powerful.  Trav traced the spell working and saw how the three Elders were in control, like they were holding puppet strings.  They’d likely inherited knowledge of how to use this array when they’d gotten their positions.  If anyone opposed them in this swamp, it wouldn’t end well for their enemies.

Trav was even able to find the section of the array that had allowed the Elders to walk in undetected before making the magical smoke.  It was a clever bit of spellwork.

An elaborately dressed old harpy—but younger than the elders—stepped forward.  “Bernacians! The time for the Royal trial is here!  Most of you know me, the Royal Seneschal.  I am here to introduce our Bernacian Elders.  Everyone please be respectful and listen to the trial scenario!”

Trav had never seen the Seneschal before, but he knew who she was—probably the second-most powerful leader of Bernacia after the Royal.  One of the elders glanced out of the corner of her eye at the Seneschal and it was not a friendly look.  Trav quirked a smile, and the elder noticed.  She winked.

After the Seneschal got done talking, there was another flash and another explosion.  Now another old harpy stood next to the three Elders, but was obviously separate.  “The Ancient!” called the Seneschal in mock surprise.  “This is truly an honor.  The Ancient has not been seen in years!”

As the harpies in the crowd ruffled their feathers in interest, Trav studied the Ancient.  She was wrinkled, her skin looked like old leather, and her eyes were grey and clouded.  Trav had never seen a harpy that looked more like the harpies from legend, or at least what he thought they looked like based on cartoons and games he’d seen on Earth.

Ugly and evil-looking, Trav decided.

The three Elders were visibly surprised.  “Why have you come, eldest sister?” one asked.

“I was given information the younger generation might have lost their way.  Pay no attention to me for the time being.  Make your announcement.”  She made a little shooing motion with one gnarled, clawed hand.

Trav was starting to get a bad feeling.

The Elders seemed to be thrown off their game a bit, but continued with the show.  They spoke all at once, “The teams have been settled for some time now.  We present the company of Guide Trevall of the North tribe, Guide Hravalin of the East Tribe, and Guide Palaeno of the South Tribe!”

There was a polite, faint rubbing of feathers, and one of the Elders continued,  “The place of the trial is a Veil-overlap!”

Immediate rustling met the announcements, even a few whispers, and the Elders held up all their hands at once for silence.  “The three Guide teams will be led to different instances of the same Veil-overlap, given provisions, and sent on their way!  The team that brings back the most treasures to strengthen Bernacia will win the challenge, deciding the new Royal.

“Any Guide or team member that leaves the overlap may not go back inside.  As soon as the Guide leaves, her Trial is over. Only fighters on the official roster will be allowed to enter.  All fighters will be implanted with magic to track their return before they enter the Veil-overlap.  This is a large overlap, so there are likely other instances in Asgard.  There are sure to be many dangers!  Guides must lead their companies well!”

Another subdued reaction from the surrounding harpies showed their actual excitement.  Trav’s adrenaline started to spike, as two things happened at once.  First, he began to learn bits and pieces of what a “Veil-overlap” might be through his borrowed memories.  Second, he began to suspect what the enemies of the East tribe—or Hravalin’s sister Greeda in particular—might be trying to do.

The Elders spoke at once again, saying, “There is no time limit for the trial, but death of the Guide is failure.  Bringing back fewer treasures from the overlap than the other Guides will be failure.  Do any of the guides have any questions?”

After a moment of silence, the Southern Tribe guide, Palaeno, a tall harpy with dyed feathers stepped forward.  “What treasures?  How will value be calculated?”  Her voice was harsh and challenging.

The Elders nodded.  One said, “If there is any question about the judging, there will be a public court session to declare the winner.  Treasure can mean anything of value to Bernacia.”

After a slow nod, Palaeno took a step back.  Then the North tribe Guide, Trevall, stepped forward and threw her cloak off.  As soon as she did, her entire company did too.  Trav admired the North tribe’s style even though he knew they were a bunch of power-hungry back stabbers.

In a carrying tone, Trevall said, “The North tribe is honored to be here, and me most of all!  But how can we continue like this?  I have Kin other than harpies in my ranks, I will admit, but are slaves truly allowed now?”

“Slaves?” asked one of the Elders.

Trav knew exactly where this was likely going, but it wasn’t time to act yet.  He stayed completely still but prepared his energy.  His power was on a different level now than when he’d first bonded with Narnaste.  All of his valkyries had grown stronger too, but Trav had sixteen bars of power now.

He’d thought long and hard about how to use his new power.  The more he’d used magic over the months, the more efficient he became with it, so he’d decided to use up two more bars of power on permanent enhancements.  His reasoning had been that he wouldn’t always know ahead of time that a dangerous situation was coming.

His earlier permanent enhancements were his two-bar upgrade, Overall Strength, Ventrilomagic, Air Scribing, a weak magic shield, two bars into focus and renewal abilities, Shadowwalk, one bar spent on reaction time before, and a bar in mental toughness.  Then a few days earlier, he’d spent two more bars of power raising his agility, durability, strength, and reaction time even further than before.  This was possible due to his previous investments.

Trevall pointed at Trav and yelled, “The East tribe is so weak, they needed to recruit a human slave!”

Silence met the proclamation at first.  Trav’s attention never left the Ancient, so he saw when her nostrils flared and her mouth quirked a tiny bit.  The Ancient pointed at Hravalin and yelled, “Is this true, East tribe Guide?”

Hravalin frowned.  “No, of course not, Ancient!  My entire company has been approved!  Travis is human, but he is a powerful addition to my team!  The purpose of gathering a company is to show our leadership, right?”

Trevall crossed her wrists, wicked claws dangling, and said, “Humans are weak.  Male humans are valuable for mating, not much else.  I object to this human being put in danger to appease Hravalin’s delusions, and because her family is too weak to field real soldiers.”

One of the elders frowned.  “The teams were approved.”

“I believe you were misled, Elder.”  Trevall clicked her claws in a sign of respect, but her eyes glittered.  Some of the watching harpies began to murmur or ruffle their feathers.

The manipulation and politics were really obvious, and Trav had had enough.  A thread of anger, and even some of his old hatred surfaced.  He was really getting tired of Kin calling him a slave, reminding him of the mines.  It had taken him a long time to accept it, but he had inherited Odin’s mantle, for better or for worse.  He put a hand on Hravalin’s shoulder, stepped forward, and said, “I’m not a slave, not anymore.  I am the Allfather reborn.”

All around the island, harpies began making noise, and Trevall angrily spread her arms and wings.  “What—”

“Shut the fuck up, you scheming bitch.”  Trav had already summoned Hex and was drawing a rune equation in the air behind him, hidden from sight by his body.  “Just say which of your people I need to kill to prove that your concern is fake.”

Trav knew how to talk to Kin, how to deal with them.

“How dare this slave speak to a Guide this way,” growled the Ancient.  “He will be punished!”  She pointed dramatically at Trav...and nothing happened.  Then she pointed again.  Her arm dropped, and Trav smiled nastily at her.  He’d already severed the Elders’ and Ancient’s control of the swamp array.

Then he activated one line of magic that tapped the source of the array deep within the earth.  He disappeared from sight for a second before he reappeared in a billow of smoke the same way that the Elders had earlier.  All around the island, the spectating harpies looked shocked.

Trav completely ignored the Ancient and pointed Hex at Trevall.  “So who is it going to be?  Which of your soldiers are you going to sacrifice?  I’m in a bad mood, and I want to get moving.”

Suddenly, unexpectedly, one of the biggest harpy warriors from the South tribe formation screeched in anger.  It sounded like she yelled something like, “Shameful slave!” as she ran at Trav.  The attacking warrior was dressed in heavy armor, with a huge two-handed sword held aloft.

Trav had memorized all of the rules a week ago.  Physically attacking another team member before the Trial was a major breach of protocol and could be severely punished.  More importantly, the right to self-defense was absolute.

After the screeching harpy had almost reached him and nobody else had moved, Trav spun and activated Shatter.  His spear buzzed with lethal magic, and Trav punched the tip right through the attacking harpy’s chest armor like it was wet tissue paper.

She was shocked, standing in place with her sword still raised above her head.  Trav leveled Hex and coldly said, “Gust.”  Wind violently erupted from the dagger, knocking the stricken Kin’s body clear off the island and freeing Trav’s spear.  He turned, shook the blood off of Shatter, and said, “Is that good enough?”

The looks he was getting now were much different from before.  In the North tribe group, there was some disbelief and anger, but also calculation.  The South tribe’s Guide, Palaeno, screeched, “Tricks!  This man is too strong to be human!  This is cheating!”

Trav spun again and leveled his spear, making the harpy flinch.  “One of you says I’m too weak, one says I’m too strong?  Which is it?  But it doesn’t matter, does it?  The entire point of this exercise is to show that the Guides can attract strong followers.  If you have a problem, come find Hravalin after the trial starts.  Better yet, find me.”

When he turned, Trav noticed the subtle signal that Trevall was giving the Ancient.  He also noticed the Seneschal making some sort of motion.  Then predictably, the Ancient said, “This human has committed murder, before the trial—”

Trav used a tiny bit of power and whispered, “Louder,” to amplify his voice.  Then he said, “What, was I supposed to just stand there while you watched?  I merely defended myself.”

“Ancient, this human acted in self-defense,” said one of the Elders.

Trav stared down the Ancient, and when Hravalin stepped forward, he automatically took a few steps back where he’d been before.  Hravalin said, “This was all very unfortunate, especially that the South tribe has already lost a fighter, but my soldier was attacked!  Everyone saw it.  I believe we should move to begin the trial before there are any more...accidents.”  Hravalin grinned and Trav approved.  Yaakova’s sister was quick.

All around the island, the observing harpies were still as stone.  They were obviously trying to decide how to react.  Meanwhile, the Elders, including the Ancient, had to know by now that Trav had taken away their control of the surrounding array.  Now they were all just old harpies.  They were probably still dangerous, and likely had their own magic, but the crowd surrounded them.  The array was obviously the reason why the crowd was so well-behaved.  Trav wondered how the watching harpies would react if they knew their leaders had lost their control.

“Yes, let us proceed.  I believe the complaint has been addressed,” hissed the Ancient.

The Elders’ faces showed no emotion, but their feathers dropped in relief.  One stepped forward and said, “There will be no more violence in this sacred place!  Guides, you will each have your team gather your horses, and all three of you will follow one Elder to a guarded overlap site.  Good luck.”

As the guide teams left the swamp, Trav began to hear muttering, then arguments behind them.  In a few more minutes, the harpies that had been watching would figure out what they thought about what they’d just seen, and either way, Trav wanted to be gone when they did.

Now he just needed to help Hravalin win.  If the East tribe won, the show of force and defiance Trav had just made would likely help him get some more faith power.

Chapter 21

What is going on?  Yaakova angrily sent.  She was using the communication device Trav had made for her.  The enchanted gadgets only allowed a small number of messages per day.

Don’t waste your messages, Trav sent back.  I will explain after we regroup.

Yaakova gave him a look but made a small nod and looked forward again.  Hravalin must have noticed and understood that there had been an exchange because she nodded too.  Their group was silently leading their horses, following one of the Elders.  They’d been walking for a couple miles now, and had left the swamp.  Finally, Trav could see what they’d been moving toward.

In the middle of a clearing there was a grey shimmer in the air, almost like light being refracted through dirty water.  Harpies in royal guard uniforms stood nervously around it.  Trav noticed signs of digging, fencing, sandbags, and other evidence that the guards were building a permanent or semi-permanent guard location.

Trav understood why.

The Elder finally spoke.  “This is the Veil-overlap.  It appeared two days ago, but the auguries let us know it would be here ahead of time.”

“The other Guides will be going through different locations?” asked Hravalin.

“Yes.”  The Elder pointed at a group of packages and bags.  “Those are your provisions.  Use them well, and use them sparingly.  They are all you will get.  In the overlap, food spoils quickly, so everything here has been warded.  It should last for at least a week.”

Hravalin acknowledged, “I understand,” and without being told, everyone began loading up their horses with the precious food.  Trav was expecting the worst, maybe faulty preserving magic, or poison, but he had ways to deal with either problem.  The important thing now was to get into the overlap and discuss matters with Hravalin, Bravoosa, and his valkyries.

After lining up their group, the Elder carefully and methodically touched a magic tool to all of their arms.  When she touched Trav, he examined the symbol that the tool had left, and carefully poked the residual energy with his magical senses.  Like the other tools he’d seen from the ruling class of harpies, they were very likely using old magic, far beyond their ability to replicate now.  Trav was actually impressed by the workmanship of the tool, and wondered how old it was.

The horses shied away from the overlap, instinctively terrified of it, but all the avian Kin were inhumanly strong and easily controlled them.  When Trav passed through the boundary, he felt cold and dry.  He shivered.

Once he was on the other side, Trav walked forward with his horse and scanned the area.  Everything was dead, which he had half expected.  Luckily, his surroundings were flat and he didn’t see any movement or signs of immediate danger, just acres of dead, brittle grass and leafless, lifeless trees.

The moment all of Bravoosa’s Pinions were on the other side, Trav commanded, “Everyone get on your horses and follow me!  Scouts, mark this area as our entrance, but we need to make distance.”

“You heard the Commander!” hollered Bravoosa.  “Get your asses in your saddles and form ranks!  Make it three wedges.  Move!”

The entire group thundered forward, and Trav felt extremely fortunate for his magic.  Without it, the horses likely wouldn’t last long, since the water would have been prioritized for soldiers, not mounts.

Trav could feel a strange feeling setting in. It might be possible for him to escape the Veil-overlap, heading to his workshop, or even Tiffany’s realm, but only if he was at full power. Leaving this place would require all the free bars of magic he had, and all at once.

After about twenty minutes, Trav signaled a halt to Bravoosa and she slowed, then stopped the company.  Trav hopped out of his saddle and called over two Pinions.  “Get out your shovels and dig a big, wide hole,” he commanded.  “Get some others to help you after it’s big enough to make room for more diggers.”  The harpies saluted and immediately got to work.

Yaakova and Hravalin dismounted, their expressions strained.  “What is going on?” asked Hravalin.  “Even for you, this was sudden.”

Trav nodded, glad that the Guide had trusted his judgement.  “We need to have a strategy session, immediately.”  He used Hex to make a large dome out of the soil.  It would have been helpful if Tiffany had been there to soundproof the structure, but she was at least relatively safe back in the East tribe territory, watching over Rahim.  Sebastian and Jang-mi were both guarding her.  Trav had thought this would be enough before, but now he had a small, persistent worry about her safety.

Nothing I can do about it now, he thought grimly.

Hravalin, Bravoosa, and his valkyries followed him inside.  Once they were all in the dome, Trav opened a hole to the sky and sealed the doorway.  He turned and said, “Yaakova, you’ve figured it out by now too, right?”

“Yes, New One.”

“Want to tell your sister?”

“Not really, but I will.”  Yaakova smoothed her feathers and sighed.  “Based on what Trav said, about how the Elders appeared to him before, they are on our side.”  She turned.  “New One, do you still think this is true?”  After Trav nodded, Yaakova continued, “The Ancient and the Seneschal are opposing us, though.  Also, the entrance to this dead place was guarded—the other entrances that the Guides used probably are too...but we’ve already been told there are likely others.  We were all tagged with magic so everyone will know if we leave, but what if assassins are sent in the other entrances to eliminate us?”

“I knew there was something strange about that,” muttered Narnaste.

“That’s not all.”  Trav frowned.  “Do you know what a Veil-overlap is?  None of the Elders really explained it.”

“I think so,” said Ysintrill.  “Before I was imprisoned I heard a group talk about it.  I thought it was common knowledge among harpies based on the way the Elders just skimmed over it and nobody asked questions.”

Yaakova and Hravalin both shook their heads, and Hravalin said, “No, I assumed everyone else knew, and everything happened so fast…”

Trav made a grim expression.  “All of this is very strange, the way that the announcement was rushed, the way it was made, and even the trial.  I still believe the Elders are supporting Hravalin, so now I wonder if there is another group in the palace that actually set all of this up.”

“What do you mean?” asked Yaakova.

“An overlap is when two veils literally overlap one another.  It’s like an overlay of reality, a dimensional anomaly.  There are different types of overlaps, and this one is obviously dead.  Basically, this is a dead world, and I believe whoever put this plan in motion knew about it.”

“What plan?” asked Hravalin.

“Like I said, I don’t know who, but what I do know is that just being here is extremely dangerous.  We have to worry about harpy assassins, maybe groups from other places on Asgard coming in, and whoever—or whatever—is in the veil that the Asgardian veil is overlapping with.  But that’s not the worst of it.”

Nobody spoke, they just stared and Yaakova spread her hands, urging Trav to continue.  Trav took a stick and drew two circles apart from each other.  “Veils are like eggs.  They have a shell.  As you know, a portal, which is sometimes also called a veil, is like a connection through the shells when they touch.”  He made squiggly lines outside of the circles.  “This is negative space, darkness...but things live here.”

Trav glanced up.  “Veil-Wraiths.  I don’t know much about them right now other than they are bad.  But what I do know is that sometimes during an overlap, the Veil-Wraiths can penetrate the weakened ‘shell,’ invading to feed.”

“Feed?  What do they eat?” asked Ysintrill.

“Everything.”  Trav messed up his drawing with the tip of his stick.  “This place is already dead.  Wraiths may have already been here.  But if they return, we are fucked.  Want to know the really fun part?  We’re kind of fucked anyway for two reasons.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” sighed Hravalin.

“First,” Trav said, holding up one finger, “since this is an overlap, and it’s dead, the normal rules of veil-hopping don’t apply.  The way Kin and others lose their power after crossing over to a different or incompatible veil?  That won’t happen here.  So normally if a powerful Kyvendi noble were to cross to another veil, they’d immediately start losing power, right?”

Ysintrill nodded.  “Yes, the more powerful a power is, the faster they lose power.  This is why invaders to Asgard are usually weak and don’t stay long.  And if they stay too long, they lose all of their power, like what happened to Jang-mi.”

“Exactly.  Now as far as I know, Bernacia doesn’t have any incredible powerhouses that could crush us all with a thought, but if this overlap has an access point in Kyvendi, like near a major city…”

“Oh,” said Narnaste.

“So what is the other thing,” asked Hravalin.

Trav held up another finger.  “Second, veils die.  Nothing lives forever, even dimensions and forms of reality—”

“What do you mean?” asked Ysintrill.

Trav shook his head.  “Don’t go digging too deep right now, I don’t entirely understand all of this myself, okay?  I just know this is true.  Anyway, this place is already dead.  It doesn’t have energy left to sustain itself, which means it won’t exist much longer.”

“It won’t exist?”

“Nope.”  Trav shook his head.  “And you never know what might cause a chain reaction to create the collapse.  Like a stacked deck of cards getting hit by wind.”

Hravalin blinked before her eyes widened in horror.  “And we have limited food, and limited water, and anyone who returns with nothing will be disqualified, and the world itself may end…”

“You got it,” said Trav.  “And it’s likely that you all will just lose any internal energy you use until we get back to Asgard.  Someone is likely planning all three Guides to fail.  What would happen if all three Guides fail?”

“New Guides would be chosen,” muttered Hravalin.

“Maybe even your sister Greeda, right?”  Trav smiled without humor.

“Someone, or someones are playing the long game,” agreed Yaakova.  “There are multiple ways that someone could keep us from succeeding.”

“There is just one good thing about all of this,” said Trav.

“What’s that, Commander?” asked Bravoosa, speaking for the first time.

“If there is a plan to knock out all three Guides, the North or South tribe, or maybe both might be sending assassins to kill the other Guides too.  And more importantly, the other side doesn’t have valkyries.”

Yaakova’s eyes shined.  “I can finally transform again?”

“Yes.  Let’s leave this dome.”  Trav produced Hex and made an opening in the earthen building so they could leave before he collapsed it.  Then he moved to the hole that the soldiers had been digging and traced a simple rune equation in the air above it.

“What’s that?” asked Narnaste.

“In a few minutes, we will have a hole full of water,” explained Trav.  “The world is dead, but there is still water deep down there somewhere.  I’ve already confirmed it.”  Trav turned and said, “Yaakova, want to do your thing?  Get a good look at the area around us?”

“Of course!”  The harpy valkyrie began to shimmer, and moments later, she took to the air after transforming.  Trav knew Yaakova was probably enjoying the way all the East tribe soldiers were pointing and gasping.  Bravoosa even fell on her ass.

Trav watched Yaakova fly with a critical eye.  On one hand, air superiority was going to give his team a massive edge.  On the other hand, someone might spot Yaakova easier since nothing else was moving in the sky, but Trav knew they had to take this risk.

He moved closer to Hravalin and muttered, “My job is to help you get the Royal tree, but don’t ever forget what a pain in the ass this trial was.  You’re going to owe me for this.”

Hravalin nodded in agreement, but was obviously distracted as she stared at Yaakova in the sky.  “How is she doing that?”

“If you think that’s good, you should see my transformation,” said Narnaste.  She grinned.

"I already have."

"Oh yeah."  Narnaste frowned.  "You haven't seen me run, though."

Trav said, “Hold off for now, Narn.  But yes, I have a feeling that our enemies aren’t going to be very happy about some of the surprises we will have for them.”

Hravalin narrowed her eyes.  “Not for the first time, I am very glad that you are on my side.”

Chapter 22

The Veil-overlap had cycles, but the place was so depressing, it still felt like the days never ended.  There were cycles, though, so Trav knew it was a day later that he received a message from Yaakova that a group was approaching.  She winged her way back, landed and transformed so they wouldn’t waste her communication device’s power.  Trav was waiting with Bravoosa, Hravalin, and Narnaste.  Ysintrill was behind their group, working to mask their trail from the group’s wandering, but she’d be back shortly.

Yaakova said, “New One, there is a group of harpies approaching fast.”

“How many?  Do you know if it’s any of the other Guides?”

“About a company and a half, maybe sixty, and no, not that I could tell.  They are all mounted.”

Trav nodded.  “Bravoosa, I want everyone in that formation of rocks over there.”  He pointed to the side.  “If it is not an accident this group found us, and we will assume it wasn’t, they’ll come for us.  There is a gap between the rocks on the back side large enough for the horses.  I want everyone set up with the horses protected.”  Trav turned to Hravalin.  “Any problem with that?”

“No.  And I thought I made it clear that you are the leader for this excursion.  If I have a problem with any of your orders, I will say so.”

Trav nodded and tapped Bravoosa on the shoulder as she was turning.  “One more thing, Captain.  Remind the soldiers about their gifts and any magic they might use.  They can’t get back their energy in this place.”

The captain saluted and ran to issue orders.  A few minutes later, the entire company was mounted and moving to the rocks Trav had indicated.

This is a good place to make a stand, he thought.

A half hour later, the unknown harpies’ dust cloud could be seen, and only a few minutes after that, the riders barely came into view.  Trav counted and verified that Yaakova’s numbers estimate had been right on the mark.

“Everyone stay loose!” he yelled.

As he stepped forward, Yaakova hissed and said, “You should not be going alone, New One.”

“Yes I should.  I can Shadowwalk back.”

“No, I agree with Yaakova.  You are too important, Chief,” Ysintrill disagreed.  “The Pinions can’t get their energy back, but we can, just like you.  You should send us.”

Narnaste nodded.  “I can get big.”

Trav shook his head.  “You just need to trust me on this.”  He began walking again, not waiting for agreement.

He stopped at about one hundred yards away, and when the unknown riders saw him, they slowed down and came to a halt about another hundred yards away, out of bow range from the rocks.  Smart, he thought.  Average Kin bow range was about the same as human bow range most of the time, they just used bigger, heavier arrows than humans had on Earth.  Kin arrows hit with authority, even at long range.

A group of three harpies dismounted and walked forward, scanning the area.  When they’d almost reached Trav, he could tell by their body language that they’d seen some of his group in the rocks behind him.  Oh well, he thought.  They’re probably already tracking us somehow.

The lead harpy grimaced.  “The Human is here.  Where is the Guide, Human?”

Trav didn’t move, just looked the harpy directly in the eye.  “You are either very brave, very stupid, or you’re bluffing.  Before coming to this place, I publicly killed a harpy warrior.  She attacked me, and the Elders were in a hurry, and I did nothing wrong, but I am sure many watchers were not happy about it.  Even if you weren’t there, you should have heard about it.”

The leader scoffed, “That was a piss-drinking South tribe nobody.  North tribe harpies would not be so easily taken by a human.”

So it’s going to be like that, Trav thought.  Part of him was glad—stupid enemies were the best enemies.  He said, “You have come for Hravalin?”

“Obviously.  The fact she sent out the human to talk instead of one of her warriors, or herself shows how weak she truly is.”  The leader laughed.

One of the other harpies smiled and said, “You were right, Ycitte.  There was no need to wait for the others.”

“Obviously.  We don’t need to share this.  You know the East tribe.  All the rumors are just hype.  Even this human killing that Southern tribe whelp was probably a trick.”

Wow.  They are really, really stupid, Trav thought.  He’d figured out what was going on, and remembered how for all their physical power, Kin could be very simple.  He couldn’t imagine a human commander casually giving away so much information upon meeting an enemy.  It took him a moment to figure out how to act, but if the rest of the soldiers were as dumb as their leaders, they’d likely also be living in a world of denial and arrogance.

The three Kin were relaxed.  Even though they knew Trav had killed a harpy, he was still just a human, and there were three of them.  Really stupid, he thought, then acted.

Lightning fast, Trav pivoted and thrust Shatter’s point directly at the nearest harpy’s chest.  It seemed his enemies’ relaxed posture had been an act, though, because she turned just in time for the blade to buzz across her armor instead of skewering her.

The lead harpy, Ycitte, moved like a coiled spring, drawing and cutting with her sword in a flash.  Trav already had Hex out and barely said, “Shield,” in time to stop the blade.  A pale, glowing barrier of energy projected from Trav’s fist, centered on Hex.

He pivoted, ducked, and thrust again with his spear, catching the third Harpy in the throat.  She went down, but the other two were already bounding back towards their fellows.  Trav pointed Hex and snarled, “Napalm Fireball!”  A meteor of fiery destruction screamed forward and slammed into the first harpy he’d attacked, blowing her off her feet and setting her on fire.  She rolled around and screamed as she was consumed.

“Fuck,” Trav growled.  He Shadowwalked back and his eyes widened as at least twenty arrows peppered the ground where he’d just been standing.  Some of the shafts were glowing, either enchanted or magicked somehow.  He suddenly realized that the three harpies coming out to talk first had likely been a trap for either him or Hravalin.  Maybe they’re not entirely stupid, he grudgingly thought.

One more Shadowwalk brought him back to the ends of the rocks.  “Ready the line!” he shouted.  “Belchers formation!”

“Ready the line!  Belchers formation!” repeated Bravoosa.

Trav turned to Ysintrill.  “Trill, get ready with the flankers.”

“Yes, Chief.”  The spirit woman ran to link up with ten elite, lightly armored scouts.  They would stay in the rear, watching their own flanks before being given the order to advance.

The rock formation the Pinions were hidden in would stop any charging horses, but the enemy horses themselves were not what Trav was worried about.  As the entire enemy company thundered towards them, he called, “Belchers, steady!”

“Belchers ready!” yelled the team leader.

He turned and ordered, “Archers ready!”

“Archers ready!” acknowledge Bravoosa.

“Mages ready!” he called.

Hravalin answered, “Ready.”  The guide had been training with the Pinions.

Next, Trav used Hex to amplify his voice so all the Pinions would hear his commands.  He watched the enemy horses and grinned.  They wouldn’t want to sacrifice their mounts, not in this dead place, so they’d likely come in a lot slower than they would have liked.  When the enemy jumped from their saddles, he knew it was time.

Harpy cavalry could function as human cavalry used to in Earth’s past, but they really didn’t like to fight that way.  Despite being so strong, harpies were lighter than humans.  They also had wings, wings that helped them jump right over a defensive line.

Trav had read up on harpy warfare, and fights were often won by which side could adjust the fastest, since enemies could jump from horseback to glide behind defenses.  That strategy would not work today, though.

“Belchers, fire!” yelled Trav.

Immediately, the front rank of the Pinions raised their gigantic wands and unleashed hell.  Each of the magic weapons, created by Trav, basically functioned as a powerful flamethrower.  A side benefit of the fact that they ran on emberstones meant his Kin fighters could conserve their own powers.  The four mages standing in the rear with Hravalin could unleash incredible destruction, but right now were being held in reserve.

Each Belcher was in perfect position, and had practiced enough to barely overlap her cone of fire with the soldier on her left and her right, so there’d be no gaps, and they could cover the maximum area possible.  Twelve Belchers would be more than enough for this battle.

North tribe harpies shrieked as their feathers burned and they sank from the sky.  If they’d been moving at full speed, they likely would have still crossed the Pinions’ front line, but they hadn’t.  Their horses had slowed further so they wouldn’t crash on the rocks, and the falling harpies actually collided with their own mounts.  Terrified horses trampled their masters.  Meanwhile, the Pinion Belchers were well-trained, and kept their streams of flame pointed upward, bringing down and burning the attacking enemy.

“Archers, bombs!” ordered Trav.  Almost immediately, twelve big, black grenades went sailing up and over the enemy soldiers.  Powered by superhumanly strong throwing arms, each bomb flew exactly where they needed to go.  Trav’s archers had been practicing throwing rocks the same weight as their bombs for an hour a day, every day for a week.

Three seconds after the bombs landed, they exploded, but rather than expanding gas and shrapnel, each deadly missile released a spell that Trav had inscribed as a rune equation, powered by a small chunk of emberstone.

Angry whips of deadly black magic buzzed through the burning North tribe troops like a razor-edged weed whacker.  The buzz saws of energy spun for a full five seconds.  After that, ominously, most of the screaming stopped.

Trav wasn’t taking any chances.  “Flankers, go!”

Ysintrill led her harpy soldiers to the side, then they all activated the special boots Trav had made for them.  They rocketed fifty feet straight up before gliding forward at an angle.  While up in the air, Ysintrill turned into a shadow, allowing her to glide just like the harpies, and all the scouts began making skilled, precise shots with their enhanced horse bows.

Harpy archers were already good, and Kin in general had powerful bows, but Trav had made the Pinions’ bows two to three times more powerful than their bows had been before.  In a hectic battle, the Flankers would have been able to jet right back up and return if they’d needed to, but this time it wasn’t needed.  “Chief, I think you can advance,” came Ysintrill’s voice in his ear.  He’d given her a communication device similar to Yaakova’s.

“Advance!” ordered Trav.  “Secure the horses!”

To the side, Narnaste seemed half relieved, and half disappointed as she said, “You didn’t even need me.”

Trav put a hand around her hips for a quick hug before releasing her.  “I’m glad.  You are our secret weapon.  If you have to transform, it means we’re in deep shit.”

The Belchers had transitioned to standard spears and shields, their flame belchers slung.  All the Pinions had three weapons now that they could transition between.  Bravoosa’s soldiers were incredibly well kitted, and extremely versatile for such a small force.  The Captain herself found Trav and saluted.  “No casualties yet, Commander.  The battle isn’t over, but it is won.  It looks like we’ll recover around ten healthy horses.”

“Go tell Hravalin,” ordered Trav.  He moved forward, watching as the Belchers carefully advanced among their burned enemies, shields forward, stabbing each corpse to make sure they were down.  Some of the North tribe soldiers had been moaning, or crying.  They were quiet after the Belchers passed.

Trav saw one enemy soldier struggling, pushing herself up on one elbow, that arm ending in a stump.  She held a sword in her other hand.  “Wait, Belcher,” Trav ordered, and the Pinion in front of him stopped.  He walked past her, standing out of range of the downed enemy’s sword.

“Ycitte, right?  That’s your name?”

The enemy leader glared and tried to spit at him, but nothing came out.  She was badly burned from head to toe, and it looked like she was missing both feet.  Trav was amazed she was still alive.

Conversationally, he said, “You know, a few years ago, I would have felt bad for you.  This would have been the worst thing I’ve ever seen.  Then I came to Asgard, and I realized how pleasant and peaceful my life had really been.  As a slave, I saw things that would make horror movie fans puke.

“You know what else? I’ve learned some things about the North tribe.  I’ve learned how you treat your slaves, and why Yaakova’s father has never been to the North tribe.  He’s valuable, and the East tribe won’t let you take him, because they know they wouldn’t get him back, at least not in one piece.”

Trav shook his head.  “A few months ago, I’d be angry right now.  Furious, actually.  Now...I’m just sad.  See, now I don’t think it has to be like this.  You—”

Ycitte screamed in defiance, lunging forward as best as she could, her blade aimed for Trav’s leg.

Unfortunately for the wounded harpy, Trav’s reaction time and strength made it a simple matter for him to block the clumsy attack with his spear.  Then with a quick, but powerful kick, he broke her elbow and pinned her hand to the ground as she screeched in pain.  Trav could feel the Pinions’ eyes on him from behind.

He sighed, and his eyes grew cold like ice as he said, “So be it, then.”  His Restless mantle felt cold too.  “Die on this dead, foreign world, and know that you have accomplished nothing.”  Ycitte looked in his eye and shivered, starting from her head and eventually her entire body.  Trav reversed his spear and spit as he skewered his enemy’s heart.

He turned and addressed the Pinions who were watching through the rising smoke.  “We will win this challenge for Hravalin, against the other Guides, and any other murderous fucks out there.  These assassins had no honor in attacking us, so they will also die with no honor.”  He pulled something that Odin might say from his memories.  “The weak should know their place.”

The Pinions stared for a full second before raising their weapons in the air, screeching in primal fury.  Trav felt something savage stir in his heart.  Arming his Kin allies with flamethrowers had been one of his better ideas.

Chapter 23

“Master, I don’t know how much of this I can take.  I need to rest, but the longer we’re here, the harder it is to get any real sleep,” Narnaste said.

Trav nodded.  His group had been in the Veil-overlap for over three days now, and even with him and his valkyries doing most of the heavy lifting, everyone was dragging.  The group had been slaughtering and eating the horses they’d captured every night in order to conserve rations, and Trav had been able to use rune magic to draw water and to purify it, but the dead world was taking a toll.  The harpies were all slowly but surely losing their energy.  It was different than going to another Veil where they’d lose strength.  Instead, they just couldn’t quite recoup what they lost.

Other than minor injuries and the stress of combat, Trav felt fine.  Since his energy was recharging, he’d been using rune magic to revitalize the horses, but there was a limit to how many times he could do this.  It kept costing him more energy, too.  The animals were loyal and strong, but they’d begin faltering soon too.

“Yaakova is coming back, I can see her,” said Trav.  “Hopefully she found something.”  He squeezed Narnaste’s shoulder and moved back to the rear of the company where Bravoosa was checking someone’s gear.

So far, five harpies from the Pinions had died, including two of Trav’s favorite scouts.  Hailya had been killed yesterday, torn apart by magical fire.  The loss of five soldiers was sad, but his group had still actually been lucky so far.  Over one hundred and forty enemy harpies had attacked yesterday.  All the groups of harpies coming after Hravalin had banded up and hit them at once.  Trav had to hope that no more were coming, but he wasn’t going to bet on it.

With a gust of wind that kicked up the musty dust on the ground, Yaakova landed.  Her expression was hard to decipher, and she said, “New One, I think I found something.”

“Oh?  What is it?  Should the company head there?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Yaakova shook her head.  “I found a structure, but it’s on the side of a hill, and it’s a long distance from here going in a direction that is really hilly.  It’s probably dangerous, but maybe you could ride Narnaste there.”

Trav frowned.  “A structure?  We haven’t seen any structures other than random ruins in three days.  Are you sure?”

“Yes.  I got close, but per your instructions, I didn’t land.”

“I see.”  Trav scratched his chin and said, “Let me try something.”  He summoned Hex and lightly traced a simple rune equation on his forehead.  He didn’t cut the skin, and the process didn’t hurt since it was meant to be temporary.  Then he motioned Yaakova closer and she narrowed her eyes at him, but hesitantly approached.  “It won’t hurt,” Trav said.

After he’d put the faintly glowing lines of the rune equation on Yaakova’s forehead, he said, “Think of what you saw.  Hold the memory in your mind as clearly as you can, and then touch your forehead to mine.”  Yaakova gave him a look, but she slowly did as he’d said.

Trav didn’t see much, only a flash of an image and some feelings, likely because he and Yaakova had never tried sharing a memory before, but it was enough.  His eyes widened and he called Bravoosa over, then ordered, “Captain, go get Hravalin.  Also, get ready to lead the company to that hill over there,” he said, pointing, “and dig in.  I need to leave for a while.”

“Yes, Commander.  How long will you be gone?  Should we find a valley to stay hidden instead of a hill?”

Trav thought about it and looked at Yaakova. “Will it take long to get there?”

“If you are on Narnaste...maybe a little over an hour.”

Trav decided to explain his reasoning to Bravoosa—this way she could inform Hravalin too.  “So far we have won against a force of over a hundred and only lost five, but we’re tired, and we’re running out of weapons.  Half the Belchers are out of power, we only have a few grenades left, and everyone is losing energy.  The reason we won the last big battle was because it was getting dark, we knew they were coming so far ahead of time, and dug in with such great defense.”

“That’s true, Commander,” said Bravoosa.  “Isn’t that more reason to hide, though?”

“No, because if you are attacked while you have the low ground, what enchanted advantages you’d have left would be less effective.  It won’t be night time for a while, too.  I want to make some distance after Narn and I get back before we actually strike camp.”

“Wait, New One, am I going with you?” asked Yaakova.

Trav shook his head.  “Me leaving is enough of a risk as it is.  I need you to support the Pinions.”

“Then how will you find the structure?”

“I have my ways.”  Trav grinned.  “Just point me as closely as you can in the direction I need to go.”

***

“Master, are we lost?”  Narnaste didn’t sound worried, at least not yet,  but it was also hard to hear emotion in her voice sometimes when she was transformed.

“I don’t think so,” said Trav.  “We just have a bit further to go.”

The two of them had been moving at Narnaste’s loping cruising pace for over an hour.  In her giant wolf form, Narnaste could move very quickly.  Just how fast does Yaakova fly? thought Trav.  The truth was he was using a trick to help navigate.

When Yaakova had been scouting, Trav had been keeping track of her relative direction.  The entire time she’d been gone, Trav and the Pinions had been traveling in a straight line.  Now that Yaakova was staying with the Pinions, Trav had just reversed the direction in his head and accounted for where he’d been when he judged she’d found the structure.  Simple.  It helped that he still had a little bit of her impression from the runework he’d done earlier.

Constantly searching the massive amount of Odin’s memories that he had stuffed in his brain had made him good at memory-related things now, it seemed.  He could still recall the edges of Yaakova’s experience when she’d found the alien structure.

All around, the dead land was uninterrupted other than hills, dry grass, and the occasional weird chunk of metal, or half-eroded stone statue rising out of the ground.  It was enough to drive someone crazy if they thought about it too much.

“Let’s go to the top of that hill there so we can see around us better.”

“Good idea,” rumbled Narnaste.

Trav shook his head.  This dead place was even getting to Narnaste.  He hoped they could go back to Asgard soon or his companions might truly lose it.  Some of the harpies had already begun getting irrational and snappish when they weren’t practically falling down tired.

At the top of the hill, Trav saw what he’d been looking for.  About a half a mile away, the land suddenly dipped, and Trav could catch a glimpse of something different, something that glittered.  “Let’s go that way,” said Trav.  He grabbed Narnaste’s giant ear and gently moved it in the direction he saw the anomaly.

“Ah, I see it now, Master.”

It didn’t take long to reach what Trav had spotted.  Half the time was spent by Narnaste slowly picking her way down the eroded hill.  Even with her giant paws and graceful walk, she still weighed a lot in her wolf form and had to be cautious.

But then they reached their destination, and the ground leveled out, at least in a small area.  Trav leapt off Narnaste’s back, and as soon as he did, she changed back into her Kin form.  Narnaste drew her rapier at the same time as Trav summoned Hex, and they both stood crouched, silently listening for several minutes.

Trav carefully scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of movement or disturbances.  In the Veil-overlap, there were very few structures or anything of note, so now that he’d finally found something interesting, he wasn’t taking any chances.

Finally, after about ten minutes, Trav relaxed and said, “Let’s check it out.”

Narnaste nodded and asked.  “What is this place?”

“I’m not sure, but I have a suspicion.”  He walked around the edge of the level area, peering down the hill and started thinking out loud.  “See, I think this was all buried before, and there was a landslide because all the vegetation died.  Maybe that’s what covered it up, and the same sort of thing uncovered it years and years later.  Then the wind blew around, uncovering it even more.  But either way, I think we’re standing on a parking lot, and the building is part of an old strip mall, or something like it.”

“What?”

Trav pointed to the metal squares rising up out of the flat surface.  “I am guessing that some of what you are seeing used to be frames.  It looks like the walls were made of concrete, or something similar.  It’s probably why this stuff is still standing.  Concrete is super durable.”

He moved slowly, heading into the bones of the ancient building.  The more he poked around, the more he grew convinced that whatever this world had been before dying, there had been some sort of vehicles, and some sort of commerce, enough that it reminded him of Earth.

Speaking slowly, Trav said, “This ruin kind of reminds me of where I came from.  I wonder what happened here.  An invasion?  Nuclear war?”  He looked at Narnaste and saw she wasn’t really understanding, and had already begun poking around.  That was probably a good idea.  “Narn, if you see anything interesting that is small enough to carry, let me know, okay?”

“Yes, Master.”  Narnaste might not have understood Trav’s wandering thoughts, but she was definitely curious about the structure.

Trav began combing through the ruins, moving through the metal poking out of the stone or concrete, some of which must have functioned like rebar.  Whatever dead civilization had built this place had built it to last.  Trav couldn’t identify anything, though.  Nothing in Odin’s memories was helping, at least what he could access.

Finally, he found something.  Shifting around dust and sand with his foot, he caught a glimpse of metal and bent to pick it up.  “Bronze or something, definitely weird-looking,” he muttered.

“Master, I think I found something!”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”  Trav searched around with his foot and the butt of his spear, and found two more oddly shaped bronze...things with unfamiliar markings or writing on them.  Then he walked over to where Narnaste was in what might have been a different room in the distant past.

“What’s this thing?”  The lupine Kin woman held up what looked like a metal cylinder with markings and glittering ovals.  “Is it a wand?”

“I’m...not sure.”  Trav gingerly took the item from her, and frowned as he turned it.  Something tickled the back of his mind from Odin’s memories and he slowly nodded.  “I think it might be something interesting, though.”

After that, the two of them searched for another hour, but Trav didn’t find anything new, and neither did Narnaste.  They met up in the flat area again.  Everything they’d found had already been stowed.  Trav sighed and leaned on his spear.  “At least we found something,” he said.  “It might not mean anything, but at least we aren’t empty-handed anymore.”

Narnaste gave him a crooked smile.  “Yes, that’s great, but now that we’re both here, all alone, what should we do about it?”

Trav barely got out a confused, “Huh?” before he was hit by a growling Narnaste.  She clawed at him and passionately kissed him, nuzzling his neck between kisses.  Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and Trav pulled back, half out of breath and half laughing as he said, “I thought you were tired!”

“I am, but since we’ve been in this horrible place, we’ve just been on guard.  This world is making me insane.  I need…I don’t know.  The bond is strong, and I’ve been getting stronger like you have, but I’m not here for power, Travis Sterling, human from Earth, High Master.  I’m here because we saved each other in a cave right after I met you and we decided not to kill each other.”

Trav hugged her and softly said, “I remember.”  He chuckled.  “You know, I—”  His words trailed off as he felt something spasm through his bond with his other valkyries.

“Maser? What is it?”  Narnaste put her hand on his bearded cheek.

Trav’s voice was grim as he said, “Narn, I’m really sorry, but we need to go right now.  Something is wrong.  We need to get back as fast as we can.”

Chapter 24

Narnaste practically flew over the grey, dusty ground as Trav tried to focus on his connection to Yaakova and Ysintrill.  He’d felt something was wrong, but it was hard to get much more information through the bond other than direction, even for him.  It was like holding a piece of string with someone else.  Direction was easy to figure out, but if someone flicked the string, sometimes it could be difficult to tell how hard.

Trav had never ridden on Narnaste going full speed before, and the experience would have been terrifying and thrown him off if not for his physical enhancements.  But even as strong as he was now, he still had to hang on for dear life.

The two of them made it back in less than half the time it’d taken them to find the mysterious, ruined structure.  Trav crested a hill and took in the scene before him.  The Pinions had dug into a hill like he’d ordered.  All the harpy soldiers had their own fox holes, and the horses had been sheltered behind earthen berms.  Normally on Asgard, digging fox holes or other earthen defenses was an alien concept, but the Pinions had quickly seen the utility of earthworks since they had the Belchers and other weapons Trav had supplied them.

To one side of the hill was a formation of unfamiliar Kin in light armor.  Trav squinted and studied them as Narnaste ran forward.  They had grey skin and black hair.  Almost all of the newcomers were standing in formation, but behind them, Trav could see their strange mounds—giant lizards.  They looked like huge komodo dragons.  Trav tried to get a better look at the grey-skinned Kin, and conceded that he wasn’t actually sure they were Kin.  All he could tell for sure at this point was that they were definitely not human.

In front of the formation of strange soldiers, the ground was torn up and burned, like there’d been a fight, or at least a scuffle.  The Pinions had dug in all around the hill for three-hundred-and-sixty-degree coverage, but now they were all massed towards the strangers.  Trav quickly realized that the newcomers weren’t trying to flank, or fight—they were just standing there.

What is going on? he thought.

As they got closer and both sides saw Narnaste, he read calculation in the other soldiers’ faces.  One of them stepped forward with a spear in one hand and a raised arm, but Trav ignored him.  “Narnaste, get to the Pinions,” he ordered.

“Yes, Master.”  With a few more steps and one giant leap, the huge red wolf cleared the first row of defenders, quickly transforming after Trav slid off her back.

Trav’s entire body hurt, and he was tired from the ride, so he couldn’t even imagine how Narnaste was feeling.  “Commander!”  Bravoosa hurried over with an exhausted, harried expression.

“What’s going on?”

“Mistress Yaakova didn’t see these Dokkalfar until they were right on top of us.  They were using cloaking magic of some kind.  They didn’t know we were here either, though.  There was a standoff, they tried to move in.  I don’t know who shot first but we hit them with Belchers and they hit us with magic and steel.  We lost five, and another may die.  They lost close to twenty.”

Trav ran a hand through his hair.  “Not that I’m complaining, but why isn’t there a fight right now.  Why are you just staring at each other?”

“They retreated at first, then came back and shouted that they wanted to talk to our leader.  To help protect Guide Hravalin, we said that you were our leader, and you would be back shortly.”

“Alright, got it.  Be ready to back me up,” said Trav.

“Always, Commander.”  Bravoosa saluted and her eyes gleamed.

On the way to the standoff, Trav noticed the sheet-wrapped bundles he hadn’t seen before.  He didn’t want to think about which of the Pinions had died this time.  As he walked, he reviewed what he knew about Dokkalfar.  There were three large Kin countries of Asgard: Kyvendi, Demona, and Stefna—Dokkalfar ruled Stefna.

Trav had heard things about them on Asgard, and Odin’s memories told him more.  They were elvish-looking, and liked order and process.  It was said that bureaucracy in Stefna was a sort of religion.  So these guys are from Asgard, he thought.  Cold fury was crawling up his spine, made stronger after seeing the bodies of his harpies, but he tried to push it down, to stay calm.

He moved to the front line and deliberately stepped past it.  Some distance away, every Dokkalfar’s head turned to watch as he made his way across the dead land to stand halfway between the two Kin forces.  His intention was obvious, so he wasn’t surprised when only minutes later, a Dokkalfar man made his way to face him.

The dark elf was tall, with a sharp nose and wide set green eyes.  He wore elaborate armor with either horn, metal, or perhaps chitin pieces elegantly worked with leather.  A long, curving sword rode at his hip.  Trav studied the Kin with his magical senses and concluded the Dokkalfar was stronger than most other Kin he’d met—not to the level of the Rakshasa that Trav had killed at Faith, but not too far away, either.

Trav counted nearly two hundred Dokkalfar.  This might not be a large force on Asgard, but it was the biggest he’d seen so far in the Veil-overlap.  If it came to a serious fight, the situation would be grim.  Of course, the dark elves had been blooded enough after a short scuffle that they’d hesitated.  Trav still didn’t know why they hadn’t just left, though.

“I asked to speak to the leader,” said the Dokkalfar.

Trav nodded.  “I’m the leader.”

“You’re a human.”

“And you are a master of observation.”  Trav didn’t bother trying to hide his sarcasm.

The Dokkalfar frowned.  “What are the harpies trying to accomplish with this?  Humans are slaves.  Send your master out here.”

After giving the dark elf a flat look, Trav called, “Yaakova!  Come here.”

Yaakova walked up to stand next to him.  She gave the Dokkalfar a flat look and said, “Yes, New One?”

Trav casually put an arm around her, tipped the harpy back, and gave her a deep kiss.  He brought her back up and even through the tense situation, felt amused by the sudden smoky look in his valkyrie’s eyes.  Then he very deliberately grabbed Yaakova’s ass, and grinned when she jumped.  He looked her in the eyes and said, “You can go back now.”

Yaakova’s eyes flashed, but she said, “Yes Commander,” and moved back to safety.

Trav was glad the harpy was so smart.  Despite being surprised, irritated, and maybe a bit humiliated, she’d still grasped the situation and understood the role she needed to play.  He’d have to do something nice for her later and acknowledge her cool head.  “These are my people,” Trav said, his eyes and voice flat.

“So it seems.”  The look on the dark elf’s face was like someone who’d stepped in something disgusting, but there was no way he wouldn’t believe Trav now.  Yaakova had grown a lot.  She would not be a pushover anymore if she were to fight this Dokkalfar.

“What do you want?” asked Trav.  “You attacked my people, and both sides have been bloodied.”

“To be honest, Human, I am curious about something.  You see, another Dokkalfar group came across and destroyed a group of harpies in this cursed place.  It was only after they were all dead that we realized we’d also killed a Bernacian Guide.  Since harpy territory is a province of Demona, none of this was immediately obvious to us.  Having an ally, or perhaps a guest that we could bring back with us would be of much greater value than any trinkets we might find on harpy soldiers.”

The Dokkalfar grinned and the expression didn’t touch his eyes.  “Of course, that was before we met your group.  These harpies are using some very interesting weapons.  We are curious about the weapons, and would also like to meet a living harpy Guide.  Frankly, I was expecting a Guide to come out and speak to me, not a...someone like you.  Perhaps there is still a Guide somewhere behind you?  I would love to meet her.  Perhaps she could travel with us, back to Stefna, and you could give us all of your wonderful weapons.  That way, we could all avoid any unpleasantness.”

Trav drew Hex and noticed the dark elves behind the leader he was talking to stiffen, only to relax when they saw it was just a crude shiv.  “You came here—concealed—hurt my people, and now you want us to rob us?  This is insane. I think maybe you should give us your weapons instead, seeing as how you attacked us first and killed some of my soldiers.”

The dark elf lifted one eyebrow.  “I don’t think you understand the situation you are in.”

“Sure I do.  If you attack us again, you may win, but you are going to lose many fighters.  It’s why you’re trying to convince me to give away our weapons.  It’s not working.”

“No, you don’t understand.  We are just one small part of a much larger task force.  In fact, I should probably send someone to fill in my superiors now.”  The dark elf raised his hand to make a gesture, and one of the Dokkalfar on a lizard mount took off, leaving the main group.

“I see.”

Trav did some quick thinking.  One thing he briefly considered was Narnaste’s truth-telling gift, and he wondered if Dokkalfar also had anything similar.  Probably, he thought.  There were ways to mimic lie detection with magic, too.

Then he directed his thoughts at his harpy valkyrie.  Yaakova, he sent over his link.  I need you to tell Bravoosa and Hravalin to have everyone ready to mount up and retreat as soon as possible, hopefully when I get back.  Tell them if the Pinions need to leave stuff behind, that’s fine.

Then he began to wave around Hex like he was angry and had failed to hold his temper.  In English, he growled, “You threaten to take what’s mine?  What’s mine is mine, and will always be mine.  I will never give you what’s mine, and you can’t take what’s mine by force.  The harpies are mine, their weapons are mine, and my soldiers are mine.”  After his tantrum was over, he sheathed Hex.

Panting, out of breath, he paused as if he were thinking and getting his emotions in order.  In reality, he was hoping his calculations had been correct.  Then he switched languages, trying to sound conciliatory, and said, “The Guide is not with us, but I know where she is.  I need to have a meeting with my other leaders.  Can we meet again in about ten minutes?”

“Of course.”  The dark elf gave a predatory smile.

Trav stiffly turned, trying not to feel the itch between his shoulder blades.  Acting nervous as he returned to the harpies wasn’t exactly difficult.  Bravoosa met him after he’d gotten back and Trav said, “Keep the front line in place with the Belchers until the last minute.  They will move last.  When can we go?”

“Probably two minutes.”

“Good, let’s move as soon as we are ready, but we have to go at once.  Be ready to relay more orders. This will be tricky.”  Instead of fear, Trav felt calm.  If his plan worked, it would be great.  If not, he had a backup plan.  Hopefully it would work.

Five minutes later, all the Pinions were mounted and following Trav, dashing away from the hill they’d been defending, leaving the Dokkalfar behind.  Trav led the group to one side, and smiled grimly when he saw the Dokkalfar take the bait.  They believed he was running away, and they’d all gotten on their lizard mounts to pursue.

Trav waited a few more minutes until it was just the right time.  He held Hex and intoned, “Explode.”

All the ground underneath the Dokkalfar soldiers suddenly, violently erupted.  Lizard mounts were torn apart.  The dark elves screamed in terror...those who could still make noise at all.  Chunks of blood and worse flew up into the sky, propelled by powerful explosions.  Some of the Dokkalfar survived, but not many, and those Trav saw were heavily injured.

He pointed Hex at his throat and said, “Amplify,” then shouted, “Halt!  Reverse direction!  Prepare for orders!”

Bravoosa, Hravalin, and the valkyries were already nearby when the Pinions stopped.  As the entire formation wheeled their horses around, Hravalin goggled at the destruction behind them.  “What did you do?”

Trav temporarily suspended his voice enhancement and said, “The Dokkalfar saw a small number of harpies with great weapons and a human.  They were greedy.  The entire reason they waited on me before was because the commander was hoping to scare us into giving them our weapons, and likely hand over Hravalin too.  I’m guessing everyone would have become slaves then.  Isn’t that how enemy Kin operate?”  Trav looked at Narnaste.

“Oftentimes, yes,” she conceded.

“That doesn’t—” began Hravalin.

“I used a command with Hex to temporarily conceal rune equations I made from the naked eye.  Then while I pretended to lose my temper, I used a large amount of magic power on multiple rune equations that would explode when I triggered them.  I said, ‘mine’ a lot in my native language, but because of a double meaning of the word, I was able to repeat it many times in a way that would not sound like I was talking about weapons to anyone who could understand the language.  It also would not have set off any lie detection.

“Then we all ran away, leading to the greedy dark elves to chase us without even checking for any changes with magical senses or tools.  As soon as their main force was on top of my mines, I blew them up.”

Hravalin shook her head.  “Clever.  Clever and ruthless.”

“He can be,” said Yaakova with a proud grin.  “Even I didn’t know the plan, I just knew he was up to something.”

“Thank you for your help, Yaakova.”

“Of course, Master.”  The harpy inclined her head, and there was no irony in her voice.

All around them, the Pinions that had heard the exchange looked at Trav with wonder and at least some fear.  Hravalin slowly turned to look at the soldiers, then her gaze moved to the dust settling over the charnel house that Trav had created. She got off her horse, adjusted her clothing, gracefully took a knee, and declared, “I pledge allegiance to Travis Sterling, the new Allfather.”

Trav suddenly felt the odd feeling he’d experienced back at Najila’s cabin, and when he’d done something with Tiffany’s lizardman retainer.  Now he associated the feeling with his Restless mantle.  He blinked at Hravalin, taken aback, especially when he saw some of the Dokkalfar in the distance stumbling to their feet, beginning to move again.  A few of the Pinions had also begun to dismount and kneel, but Trav reactivated his voice enhancement and shouted, “Prepare to charge!”

The Pinions got the message, and Trav reached down to help Hravalin up.  On a whim, he tightened his grip and swung her up into the saddle behind him.  The Pinions swelled with pride. Morale was important in any group.  Like many of his life lessons, Trav had put this one to words in the mines.

He would need to lead this charge, just in case the Dokkalfar leader was still alive.

His voice thundered as he ordered, “Let’s mop up.”  His eyes were hard.  “Kill them all.  Yaakova, take to the sky and chase down that runner and kill them.  Narnaste, follow her just in case.  We won’t want any of these fucks to report back to their friends.”

Chapter 25

“Master Trav, I don’t know how much more of this we can take.”  Hravalin drooped in her saddle.  “Maybe we should head back.  The other Guides probably haven’t found anything, or they already went back.”

“We don’t know that, we can’t really know anything for sure, but we’ve sort of already been heading back.”  Trav mentally checked with Yaakova first then nodded.  “Yes.  We’ve been following a large circle back to where we entered the Veil-overlap.  We should be back in a few hours.  It’s a risk since we don’t really have anything to show for being in the Veil-overlap other than what I found before, but I have a plan to stretch that a little, and you’re right—I don’t think we can stay here much longer.”

Trav and the Pinions had been in the Veil-overlap now for seven days.  They’d run into Dokkalfar a couple more times, but Trav had prioritized avoidance and escape.  His group was down to twenty-four now—they’d lost sixteen.  He was exhausted.  Escaping from the Dokkalfar had required him to use a lot of magic, doing things like creating landslides and kicking up huge amounts of dust.  Unlike the Pinions, he was able to replenish his power, but it was slow, and his valkyries were even slower.  On top of that, Trav was having to give more power just to keep the horses going.

He was almost out of fuel.  The reason the Pinions had lasted so long was probably because he was unconsciously sustaining them somehow on top of intentionally sustaining the horses.

“The damn Dokkalfar,” groused Bravoosa.  The captain tilted her head and turned to look at Trav.  “Commander, if your mines hadn’t hit the Dokkalfar that first time we ran into them, what were you going to do?”

“I thought about that,” admitted Trav.  “If that happened, I was going to lead us around the hill so we could just wind up back where we started and hunker down again.  It would have been a fight.”

“Oh.”  Bravoosa gave Trav a weird look.  “I am glad we did not do that.”

“Me too.”

With a flutter and gust of wind, Yaakova landed.  She quickly approached Trav and nodded.  “New One, I have two things to tell you, about two things I saw on the way back.”

“Oh?”  That got Trav’s attention.  Yaakova never wasted his time, so he knew it was likely important.  “What is it?”

“I think I saw a structure in the distance.  It might be occupied now, though.  I saw some forces nearby, but they were too far away to identify.”

“What is the second thing you saw?”

Yaakova hesitated.  “Bodies.”

Trav waited.  There had to be more to what she’d seen than that.  Plenty of bodies were scattered around the Veil-overlap now.  The Pinions had buried their dead before moving on, but they hadn’t buried the enemies they’d killed.  Over the last few days, Yaakova and the Pinions had both come across evidence of other groups finding and killing each other as well.  The day before, they’d even seen what looked like humans in strange clothing, probably the “cultists,” the cultivators that Trav had seen before he’d escaped the mine.

He hadn’t seen the bodies himself to verify what they were, but if they had been cultivators, it probably meant that the Veil-overlap included Asgard and the cultivators’ veil where Jang-mi was from.

Yaakova said, “The bodies were Dokkalfar.  There was something weird, though.”

“Weird?”

“Shadows.”  Yaakova’s eyes moved strangely and she swallowed.  “Moving shadows.”

Trav’s breath caught and his stomach dropped.  “What did you say?”

“Moving shadows.  I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but then I saw what looked like some Dokkalfar holed up inside a cave, fighting against the shadows.”

Trav dreaded the answer to his question even as he asked, “And both the dead Dokkalfar and the structure, are they both on the way to our exit from this play.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

***

They found the bodies in a valley at the edge of a cliff.  All the moisture disappeared from Trav’s mouth when he took in the scene, and he made a quick decision.  “Forward!  Charge!  Destroy the shadows!”

Shit shit shit shit shit, he thought.  He’d been afraid of this.  The Veil-Wraiths had come.  His decision to see the “shadows” and verify the new threat had been correct, but he’d really been hoping he’d been wrong.

Harpies screamed war cries as they jumped up, gliding off their horses and savagely slashed the Veil-Wraiths.  The shadowy enemies varied in size, as small as muskrats, to as big as wolves, and didn’t seem very smart.  The things were not happy about being interrupted from their meal, though.  There were corpses everywhere, and most of them had been gnawed on now.  Two different groups of Dokkalfar had both suffered terrible losses in a deadly skirmish—the ground was wet with blood.  Trav had a feeling he knew what had happened.

Despite their fatigue, the Pinions slammed into the Veil-Wraiths with savage energy.  They were well trained, and Trav was willing to admit they were likely all zealots by now—they believed in him.  After the first few deaths when Trav had…”chosen” the dead, the remaining Pinions had been whispering among themselves and seemed to believe they would live forever.  The whole thing had made Trav feel guilty for days, but now all he felt was fear.

He grabbed a bow and nailed a Veil-Wraith with a lucky shot.  The thing made a wheezing, pained sound, but took far less damage than a flesh and blood creature of its size would.  “What is going on?” yelled Hravalin.

Trav’s valkyries were all arranged around him.  Usually, they would be leading groups of Pinions, but the company had exhausted their magical weapons, and too many had died.  He’d been using the valkyries as backup the last two days.  Now was not the time to hold anything in reserve, though.  “Yaakova, stay with me.  Narnaste, transform.  Do whatever you have to—kill these things.  Ysintrill, ride on Narnaste’s back where it’s relatively safe and snipe the shit out of everything.  Go go go!”

His two valkyries nodded grimly.  Narnaste shimmered, grew huge, and they took off.  A few of the Pinions were using the last of their inborn power to manifest their gifts or magic, generating magical attacks or bolstering mundane weapons.  The Veil-Wraiths had been caught completely by surprise, but the damn things were resistant to damage, and there were a lot of them.

Trav turned and saw only Yaakova and Hravalin were still with him.  Bravoosa was fighting with the soldiers.  “These things are Veil-Wraiths,” he said.  “Specifically, these are Feeder-Wraiths, one of the lowest class of their kind.  If these are here, they’ll draw more of their kind...like mice.  But in this case, the new ones to show up will be bigger and more dangerous.  We need to get the hell out of here.”

Hravalin frowned.  “You mean, we can’t look for more items for the trial—”

“No,” Trav said, making a slashing gesture with his hand.  “This world was dead before, but now it’s doomed.  There is no way we can stay.  These fucking things are ravenous.  The world was dead before, but with Veil-Wraiths showing up, it won’t even exist much longer.  The only reason we have any chance of escaping at all is because they’ll probably pop up randomly.  They can’t control their entry.”

Just then, Trav felt something, a tickle between his shoulder blades.  He used his magical sight to scan the horizon and sighed, a sound of frustration and exhaustion.  “Fuck,” he whispered.  He didn’t have much magic power left, not after keeping the horses alive and giving them energy that morning, but he still lobbed a magic ball of ice at a Veil-Wraith that hit squarely, temporarily freezing the nasty thing.  This one looked sort of like a shadowy panther, and had been about to tear off a Pinion’s leg.  The harpy turned, saluted Trav in gratitude, and killed the beast.

“What is it, New One?” asked Yaakova.  “I thought I felt something at the same time you made a face.”

“Someone or something in one of the veils outside this overlap has figured out that more powerful beings can come here without penalty.  A huge power, maybe more than one, has entered the Veil-overlap.  Even without the Veil-Wraiths, this would be bad news.”

“How powerful?” asked Hravalin.

“At least as powerful as my friend who died—Rakshasa royalty.  I’m not completely sure, because when I saw her fight, she was already poisoned, exhausted, and wounded.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, we need to get the fuck out of here.  For now, we all need to help the Pinions, then leave as soon as possible.  If we kill all these Veil-Wraiths, it will help give us a little more time, or at least a head start.”

The two harpies nodded and dashed forward with Trav.  Hravalin was not weak.  In fact, she’d been saving most of her power during the entire time she’d been in the Veil-overlap, so she hit two Veil-wraiths like a truck.  She didn’t even draw her weapon, just clad her hands and taloned feet with magical fire, chopping and kicking with obvious skill.

Yaakova hardened her feathers, using them like giant razor blades to sever Veil-Wraith limbs and heads.

Trav skewered an enemy, dodging back to avoid being disemboweled, and mentally patted himself on the back for all of his permanent upgrades.  He had less than two bars of power left now, but he wasn’t defenseless by a long shot even without magic.

“Good job!” he shouted at the Pinions.  “Kill them all so we can get the hell out of here!”  Trav darted through the melee, heading toward the cave.  The majority of Veil-Wraiths there, at least two dozen of them, blocked the entire opening and hadn’t even turned around yet.  Trav grinned savagely, pointed Hex, and used one of his favorite rune spells.  “Chain lightning.”

The Veil-Wraiths were probably half the size of a Dacith at their largest, but Trav had some memories of them from Odin.  He didn’t underestimate them, and didn’t let up.  “Chain lightning.  Chain lightning!”  Even if his magic didn’t kill them, the way the electricity superheated the air around them would...he hoped.

Even though the Veil-Wraiths seemed down, for good measure, Trav yelled, “Chain lightning!” and hit them one more time.  Their bodies smoked, but Trav still felt nervous as he stepped among them to call into the cave, “Anyone or anything alive?”

A light appeared, and a group of Dokkalfar walked forward cautiously.  There were around twenty of them, by Trav’s count, and about half were wounded.  “Who are you?” asked one of them, a female holding a curved sword with a green-glowing blade.

“Someone who is helping.  Now before any of you says something stupid that pisses me off enough to make you look like these guys,” he said, pointing down at the charred Veil-Wraiths, “you should come with me.”

A wounded dark elf stumbled forward with a knife in his hand and snarled, “Why would we even listen to a human?  This is outrageous. Why should—”

Trav pointed Hex and said, “Taser.”  A line of magic shot out from the shiv, hitting the Dokkalfar in the forehead and knocking him on his ass where he twitched for a few seconds.  As the aggressor gasped for breath on the ground, some of the other Dokkalfar took a step forward or raised hands, but Trav pointed Hex and said, “Stop.  I don’t have the patience for this shit.  My people are out there fighting and bleeding so I could talk to you.”

The Dokkalfar woman asked, “Why?”

“Simple.  Survival.  The Veil-Wraiths have come.  My company is down in strength.  If you come with us, we are still a small enough group that we can move quickly and avoid notice, but we will have a better chance of survival together.  Plus, I know of an exit from the Veil-overlap that is only a couple hours away, give or take.  I’m guessing you don’t know of any this close.”

The angry man started to talk again from where he knelt on the ground, but the Dokkalfar woman made a gesture and he stopped.  She looked Trav in the eyes and said, “I sense great power in you...something new.  You truly killed these,” she asked, pointing at the dead Veil-Wraiths.

“Yes.”

“And you truly lead these harpies?”

“Yes.  Now are you coming or not?”

The Dokkalfar woman stared at Trav without blinking, even past the point that the sounds of fighting outside ceased.  Trav turned briefly to see all of the Pinions standing in formation outside.  A few were wounded, and other harpies were already efficiently tending to their wounds.  All the Pinions who weren’t otherwise occupied were obviously waiting on Trav.

He turned back and was about to start speaking again when the woman said, “I will go with you.  We likely would have died if you had not come along anyway.  However, this group here is not all my people.  Our enemies have become friends in the name of survival.  You are merely suggesting more of the same.  But I do not speak for everyone here, and I do not think this decision is entirely mine to make, even for my people.  So I will go with you, human, but I only speak for myself.”

“The name is Trav.”

“Trav.”  She nodded, then turned.  “If you wish to follow me and go with these harpies to leave this accursed place, then follow.  If you choose to go your own way, so be it.”  With that she stepped forward without looking back, walking past Trav and beginning to look along the ground and the dead bodies, scavenging for equipment.

“I like her,” said Bravoosa.

“Me too,” said Hravalin.

Trav shook his head and left the cave.  He cast a low-level shield on himself just in case one of the dark elves decided to try for a magical sucker punch and joined the harpy leaders.  The dusty, stale smell of the Veil-overlap had been tainted with the odors of blood and offal.  “Bravoosa, how many extra horses do we have left?”

Hravalin held out a hand to stop the Captain from answering and asked, “Why?”

“Do you see any lizard mounts?  These Dokkalfar don’t have any mounts.  They were probably chased away by Veil-Wraiths.”

“You are likely right,” said Hravalin.  “And we need them?”

“Yes,” said Trav.

Hravalin pursed her lips.  “Bravoosa?  Horses?”

“I believe we have just enough rideable horses left to give these...people a mount, if they all come with us.  It looks like some won’t.”  Bravoosa pointed and Trav turned.

Sure enough, a group of about six were heading away without looking back.  The rest of the Dokkalfar came out of the mine as a group—injured and tired but still proud.  “What are your terms?” said the female he’d spoken to before.

Trav noticed she still had her sword in her hand.  He realized that these Dokkalfar hadn’t truly made up their minds yet, and the way he answered would likely be important.  Now that the dark elves had left the cave and he could see them better, he realized that the female Kin who seemed to be their leader was really, strikingly beautiful.  Her eyes were fierce, direct, and glittered with undeniable intellect.

“What is your name?” asked Trav.

The Dokkalfar frowned, and before she could speak, Trav reminded her, “I gave you my name already, and saved your life.  We are going to leave in a few minutes, with or without you.  I have some horses I can spare, but again, I am not playing games.  Numbers won’t help our survival without cooperation and it doesn’t cost you anything to be polite.”

She narrowed her eyes but nodded respectfully and said, “I am called Ida.”

“Ida, I am in charge of this group, as well as Hravalin here, and Captain Bravoosa is under us.  For the sake of our escape, you will be on the same level as Bravoosa, and in charge of these Dokkalfar.”

“So I will answer to you?” she asked, eyebrow arched.

“Yes, or you can take your beautiful ass the other direction and follow the group that just left.”

She wasn’t even fazed by what he said.  “And what happens after we return to Asgard?”

“I suppose we will have to deal with that after we survive,” said Trav.

Narnaste had been moving towards them, behind the Dokkalfar.  Trav wondered where she’d gone after the fight, and figured she might have gone off to check the surroundings.  It was really amazing how quietly she could move now in her wolf form, and she surprised the hell out of the dark-skinned Kin when she rumbled, “Is she really that beautiful, master?”

Trav laughed as the dark elves gasped and some actually lost their balance, falling down.  He gave Ida another good look, noting that if anything, her armor was partially hiding her fit, but feminine body.  “Yes, I’m sure, Narn.”

“Really?”

“Trust me.”

Ida still kept her feet and held her sword, but her hand shook a bit as she stared up at the enormous Narnaste.  “Mister Trav, you killed all those unnatural—”

“Veil-Wraiths.”

“—Veil-Wraiths, and you have allies like this—”

“Narnaste.”

“Narnaste.  And you are still about to flee?”

“Absolutely,” Trav confirmed, voice grim.  “More are coming, and bigger.  And there are other dangers out there.  This place was a bad place to be before, but it’s getting worse by the second.”

Ida slowly sheathed her sword and studied Trav for a solid five seconds.  “I will follow you.”

One of the Dokkalfar who was not wounded, a petite female, protested, “My Lady, we can’t—”

“Peace, Xanthia.  I can hear it.”

“The winds of fate?”  The other woman’s eyes widened.

“Yes.  I wasn’t sure before, but now I am.  Prepare to leave.”

“Yes, Lady.”

Trav thought the exchange was interesting, but didn’t have time to explore Dokkalfar politics or abilities.  Everyone should have left already.  As he tapped his foot impatiently, all the Kin grabbed what they could of value from the bodies.  The Dokkalfar didn’t make a fuss as their dead comrades were looted, but Trav wasn’t surprised.  Kin could be practical when survival was at stake.

After everyone was mounted, he ordered, “Let’s ride!  Yaakova, stay in your original form, please.  Don’t take to the air.  I’m afraid you’ll be too exposed and vulnerable up there by yourself.”

“I understand, New One.”

They sped in the direction of the Veil-overlap portal.  The surrounding area was fairly flat, but the group was coming up on a canyon where there was a natural split in their path.  Yaakova said, “New One, the plain leads to the ruins.  It’s right around that hill in the distance.  The canyon is the fastest route to the portal.”

Trav nodded as he thundered forward on his horse, and had almost made up his mind when he suddenly saw text scroll across his vision.

<You should go to the ruins.>

“Oh, so you are alive somewhere in there after all,” Trav mumbled.  There was no way any of his companions would hear him over the sound of the galloping horses, but he knew the Oracle would get the message.

<Of course.>

“Why didn’t you say anything until now?”

<I am still conserving my energy, and you didn’t need it.  More accurately, nothing I could have said would have helped in any meaningful way.  Sometimes announcing the future can change it.  But this time, if you go through the canyon, I don’t see any threads from that decision where you live.>

“Good enough for me,” mumbled Trav, and moved his horse toward the plains and the hills, toward the ruins that Yaakova had seen.  All around them, he noticed portals opening in the distance, where new shadows were forcing their way into the Veil-overlap.

The Veil-Wraiths were coming.

Chapter 26

Before they’d gotten to the ruins, it seemed like someone had flipped a switch and the closest Veil-Wraiths had begun to chase Trav’s group.  The harpies and Dokkalfar had shot their bows from horseback, wasting arrows until Trav had ordered Ysintrill to ride near the rear of the formation and help suppress the Veil-Wraiths.  After that, other archers had just begun giving Ysintrill their extra arrows and saved what they had left.

Ysintrill was such a good archer, even from horseback, it was kind of spooky.

The Veil-Wraiths had gotten bigger, and more humanoid.  Soldier-Wraiths, thought Trav.  Soldier-Wraiths weren’t very fast, but they were strong and relentless.  Without horses, his group might have already been overwhelmed.

Clouds began to form, and the sky grew darker.  Trav heard a rumble in the distance as he rounded a bend and saw the ruins.  “It’s a fortress!” he said.  “How the hell didn’t we see this before?”

“We went the opposite direction,” answered Yaakova.  “And then we began avoiding places with activity so we could avoid fighting.”

“Places like this would have been a lot more likely to have interesting things to find.  I wonder if there are any more buildings like this,” he wondered out loud.  “But it doesn’t matter at this point.  Let’s head for the ruins!”  He desperately hoped his group could get a break.  He’d gotten to know the Pinions over time, and a deep, heavy sadness had taken root in his heart when he thought about all the harpies he’d led into the Veil-overlap just to watch them die.  The odds of everyone surviving a Veil-Wraith invasion were not very good, but he was going to do his best.

The horses were exhausted now, and all their riders were bone-weary as well.  Trav felt like they were practically flying forward, but in reality, their pace was probably a fraction of what it could have been.

Suddenly, Yaakova gasped, looking up at the sky, and Trav just sighed and nodded.  Hravalin and the other valkyries looked up too, and Ysintrill said, “There are people up there.  Are they flying?”

“Yes.  It’s even worse than I thought,” said Trav.  “One of them is Kin, even more powerful than Najila was, at least I think so.  The other...I’m not sure, but I think it’s a cultist, or cultivator.  Someone from Jang-mi’s veil.”

Yaakova’s voice was low as she said, “So much power.  It’s terrifying, but I can’t look away.”

Trav grunted.  “Let’s just be thankful they’re just staring at each other and having a dick measuring contest.  If they start fighting, everything is going to be even more fucked up than it already is.  Either way, hopefully we can find some sort of shelter at the ruin before we make a break for the final run to the portal.”

“Commander,” said Bravoosa.  “I think I can see something odd with the ruins.  There might be people on the walls too.”

Trav narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.  In the distance, it looked like the area where there might have been an opening in the wall around the ruins was...glowing?  “Yaakova, do you see that?” he asked.

“Yes.  The way is blocked.”

“Slow down!” shouted Trav.  The group kept moving forward, but at a trot.  Trav thought furiously, reviewing the selection of rune spells he could cast on the fly and still had power for.

Suddenly something large plummeted from the sky.  Trav summoned Hex with a curse and pointed his blade, but the shape wasn’t dark, like a Veil-Wraith.  Rather, it was light.  “Hold!” he shouted.

The falling object appeared to be a Kin woman.  If she wasn’t Kin, she was at least a humanoid with feral features, an owl in this case.  She had large eyes, expansive wings, and she stood proudly, shoulders thrown back.  Trav absently noted how busty she was, and felt a little silly when he considered what had grabbed his attention.  Sometimes the things he noticed in times of extreme stress seemed random...or not so random.  He’d just learned that he’d notice a nice set of boobs even if the world was ending.

All the group slowed to a stop as Hravalin demanded, “Who are you?”  The owl woman’s appearance was completely unexpected, but she didn’t seem to be a threat at all.  There was no sense of malice.  Despite the danger they were all in, Trav’s curiosity was piqued as well.

The owl woman spoke in an unfamiliar language.  Ysintrill said, “That sounds like Kingdom, the language the cultivators speak.”

Ysintrill nodded.  “Yes, it is.”

Trav frowned and felt something click in his head as it felt like a whole slice of Odin’s memories just melted and merged with his mind.  Just like that, he knew he could speak Kingdom fluently.  He said, “I can understand you now.  Go ahead.”

The owl woman gave him an odd look, but said, “My name is Moira.  I see there are Dokkalfar with you, but you are not…”  She paused as she saw Trav.  “This is a mixed group, but not cultivators at all.  Who are you?”

“Look, lady, we really don’t have time for a chat right now.”  Behind them, the Veil-Wraiths that had been chasing all this time began to catch up.  “We need to move,” growled Trav to the Kin behind him.

Hravalin nodded.  “I agree, but what did the owl woman say?”

Trav quickly translated, and Hravalin said, “Moira, are the figures I see at the ruins ahead hostile?”

“No, I don’t think they would be,” said Moira, and Trav resigned himself to the role of interpreter for this conversation.

“They are with you?” asked Hravalin.

“That is correct.”

Hravalin gave the owl woman a tired smile.  “It would be great if we could talk about joining them if they were not hostile, but we need to get moving again right now.  Perhaps once we are there, you can tell us how to get past the wall.”

Trav finished translating what Hravalin had said, and as if it were a signal, the Pinions and the Dokkalfar under Ida got their horses in motion and began moving to the distant, glowing gates again.  Behind them, the owl woman took the sky.

“That was weird,” said Trav.  He coughed, and glanced back nervously, checking the position of the Veil-Wraiths.  Then he looked up at the figures in the sky.  He hadn’t gone into detail with the others about the sheer amount of power that they were giving off.  The Kin could probably feel it if they wanted to and focused, but a lot was going on.  Yaakova obviously knew, though.  She actually looked faint.

“I am almost out of arrows, Chief,” Ysintrill shouted over the thundering horse hooves.

“Of course.  When it rains, it pours.”

“What, Master?” asked Narnaste.

“Nothing.  Narn, if it comes to fighting, try not to transform unless you absolutely have to.  Same goes for you too, Yaakova and Ysintrill.  If you transform now with so much going on, it might attract more attention.”  He meaningfully nodded to the two figures throwing off waves of power in the sky.

Yaakova nodded, and Ysintrill said, “I understand, Chief.”

“We only have a couple minutes until we hit the walls ahead, but I don’t see any openings. Bravoosa, we need to slow down,” Trav said.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Actually, let’s find a place to make a stand and dismount.  The Veil-Wraiths are closing in, and I don’t see a way into the ruins.  We will send a scout on a horse to figure out how to get in.”

Hravalin frowned.  “Why don’t we just see if there is a way to go around?  Shouldn’t we keep moving?  Why are we trying to get in the ruins?  We don’t even know if those who are already inside would help us.”

Ida had been riding ahead with Trav’s group, and hadn’t spoken much until now.  Now the dark elf said, “I agree with Hravalin.  Why don’t we just go around?”

Trav stared at the molten area where a hole or a gate might have been in the wall ahead, and considered what to say.  “I have gotten information that makes me believe it is our best chance of survival.”

“Truly?”  The Dokkalfar woman looked skeptical, and Trav didn’t blame her.

There wasn’t time to argue, and Trav knew the danger of leading through ultimatum.  If he just pushed all the Kin to follow blindly after they had questions, he’d lose respect and likely lose soldiers.  “Fuck,” he mumbled, then as his horse slowed to a stop, he turned, drew on Odin’s memory, and announced, “As the new Allfather, rightful ruler of the Aesir and Vanir, I give you my word that I have truthfully received information to go this direction, and I trust it.”

Yaakova blinked and whispered, “Such power.”

Ysintrill said, “Chief, you’re magically glowing.  I thought you didn’t want to attract attention.”

“Not much I can do about it right now, hopefully it will die down soon,” muttered Trav.  “Was that enough for you, Ida?”

The Dokkalfar woman was visibly shaken and didn’t meet his eyes.  “Yes, that is fine,” she said.

Trav dismounted his horse and hoped Ida was able to cope with a possible religious issue now that she knew what he was.  If they all survived, maybe he could talk with her later.

“Get the horses behind us!  Protect them!  These things will come after anything living, or dead for that matter!  The Soldier-Wraiths are coming!”

As Bravoosa repeated his orders and rushed around to check on all the Pinions, Hravalin softly said, “Master, perhaps you can tell me more about these Veil-Wraiths later.”

“If we live through this, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

***

The next few minutes were a nightmare as the clouds roiled overhead, gales of power washed over the landscape from the powerful figures in the sky having a staring contest, tremors in the ground from the doomed world, and waves of Veil-Wraiths mindlessly rushing forward, hungry mouths gaping open.

Trav stabbed, slashed, and kicked the unnatural things back.  Everywhere he looked he could see new portals opening up, and more Veil-Wraiths appearing.  It was only a matter of time until his group was overrun, but so far they’d been barely surviving.

Yaakova was like a whirlwind of slashing razor feathers, leaping over the other Kin and delivering savage attacks from the Veil-Wraiths’ blind spots.  She’d used some magic earlier, but almost immediately stopped when it became obvious the Veil-Wraiths actually could eat any magic power that didn’t immediately kill or damage them.

From that moment on, all the Kin had relied on mundane weapons.  If not for the savagery of the harpies and the inhuman endurance of the Dokkalfar, it was possible they would all have already been eaten.  Instead, miraculously, Trav hadn’t lost anyone yet.

“Are you sure we need to stay here, Master?”  Narnaste lunged forward, skewering a Veil-Wraith with her rapier.  Despite the fact that the things didn’t bleed naturally, her weapon had still been effective, probably from the range it afforded.  “Or should I transform?”

Trav was thinking about how to reply when a huge portal opened nearby, and something straight from nightmare climbed out.  It was like a T-rex had a baby with an octopus and a yeti.  Its body was covered in leathery skin and bony barbs.  As soon as the awful thing appeared, Trav’s group wasn’t the only ones that faltered—the Veil-Wraiths they’d been fighting shrank back too.

Then the awful thing shrieked, and Trav covered his ears with his palms.  The sound was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, and his eyes swam with tears.  When he looked up again, fearing the worst, the huge Veil-Wraith was thankfully not approaching.  Instead, it seemed to be heading straight for the glowing section of wall around the ruined fort.

“A Lord-Wraith,” he whispered.  Shit had definitely just hit the fan.

As the rest of the Veil-Wraiths still shrank back, Trav’s group had a brief respite and he tried to get his breathing under control.  Behind him, Ysintrill softly asked, “Chief, what do we do?  You seem to know what is going on better than we do, but it doesn’t take much to know this is bad.”

Trav nodded.  He turned when there was a familiar flutter of wings.  “Moira!” said Hravalin.

The owl woman moved directly to Trav and her huge eyes met his own.  In Kingdom she said, “I am supposed to give you a message.  Ashley is here, and he’s telling Trav to get inside already!”

Trav stared at her with his natural eye and his hidden emberstone eye.  “Ash?”

“Yes, Ash!  You must know each other.  He is my...lover.”

Ashley is alive?  Well, I knew, or suspected, that already.  But he’s here?  Could this really be my cousin?  He has an owl chick?  Trav couldn’t lose himself in his thoughts, and he steeled himself to survive the moment.  “That sounds all well and good, but my scout couldn’t find a way into the wall.  What the fuck does Ash suggest we do?”

“He says you should follow that big monster right through the gate.”

After Trav translated, Hravalin shrieked, “Is she serious?”

Trav held up a hand.  He could feel something tugging, something related to his mantle.  “Let’s see what happens.  If that thing opens a way, we’ll trust that Ash might know what he’s doing.”  The Ash that Trav had known back on Earth had been a kid with a massive chip on his shoulder from being born with so much talent.  It’d been a long time, though.  Trav had changed, maybe Ash had too.

And he could feel something now, a strange energy coming from within the ruins that also felt...familiar.

Sure enough, the huge Veil-Wraith crashed through the superheated area of the wall, and began screeching as soon as it had.  Trav grimly mounted up and motioned everyone else to do so as well.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Yaakova.

“No, but we’re going anyway.”  All around them, the Veil-Wraiths were starting to move in again, cautiously, like a predator had just left.  Trav’s group only had a few moments to act or they’d be fighting for their lives again.

“Once we get close to the wall, we won’t have any escape,” said Bravoosa.  She had dark rings under her eyes, and the Captain looked like she was about to fall over.

“I know,” said Trav.  “Let’s go!”  He spurred his exhausted horse and thundered forward, not turning to see if the others followed.  Before he got to the wall, he could feel the heat of the broken material that had been plugging a gap.  The molten area had been added by someone, but was still like magma.  Trav grimly pushed forward, spurring his horse when he wanted to turn.

Trav drew Hex with a curse.  In a few more seconds, he was going to need to do something, anything to cool down the wall, but before he had to act, the ground began to glitter.  In two breaths, the temperature of the molten wall died down to something uncomfortable instead of scorching as a layer of energy spilled out from the wall and covered the ground, smothering the flames and molten stone.

Stopping would mean death, so Trav plunged forward, leading his Kin over the strange, glittering bridge, through the hole in the wall, past fires on the inside, and the corpse of the Lord-Wraith.

Then he saw Ash.  His cousin was truly alive, and he’d just done something to save Trav’s life.  The energy that Trav was riding across had actually come from him.

Ash was wearing rustic-looking clothing, not too different from what he used to wear back on Earth.  He was older now, and harder, more intense.  His gaze was confident and his eyes flashed with challenge as he gave Trav a lazy smile.  Ash had obviously been fighting.  He was scuffed, bruised, and singed, but still stood comfortably, almost casually while surrounded by the chaos around them.

Trav definitely was not the only person in his family to change.  He couldn’t imagine what all Ash had been through over the years to be the person standing before him now.

“To the fort, Trav,” ordered Ash.  His voice rang with the authority of someone used to command.  “I’ll catch up.”

Trav gave a small nod and moved to the large building at the rear of the ruins.  He could see cultivators in the distance and reasoned that the building was where Ash planned to make a stand, which was a good call.

Seeing his cousin again after all this time was one of the most surreal experiences that Trav had experienced since leaving the mines.  If he survived to talk to Ash, he wondered what they would even say.

Feeling suddenly awkward in a way he hadn’t for a very long time, Trav led his people to the only defensible structure he’d seen in the entire Veil-overlap.

Chapter 27

“Trav, I saw Tala-Tala,” said Narnaste.  She kept looking back at the wall.

“Who?”

“My Kin friend in Kyvendi, from before I met you.”

“Oh yeah, I remember.”  Trav’s thoughts were disjointed, and he mentally slapped himself, trying to focus.  He glanced around and realized that the large, ruined structure he was standing in had probably been some sort of government building or a throne room in the past.  He saw a lot of cultivators, all wearing different styles of clothing, and he got the feeling they were not all from the same group.  They weren’t wearing uniforms per se, but definitely dressed differently.  A handful of unfamiliar Kin were mixed in as well, mostly Dokkalfar, but he didn’t see any harpies other than the Pinions.

A human woman, a cultivator, approached their group.  “I am Mei,” she said.  “Who is in charge? I saw you come in past Ash.”  The woman had soft brown eyes, almost hazel, and extremely black hair that shined in the meager light.  Unlike most of the other cultivators in the room, she was not staring at Trav’s group with suspicion.  She moved elegantly, and was far more curvy than most of the other cultivator women Trav had seen so far.  He absently wondered if she was one of Ash’s women too.  Back on Earth it wouldn’t have even occurred to him, but now he wouldn’t be surprised at all.

Trav ran a hand through his filthy hair and said, “Ash is my cousin.”

Mei blinked.  “Ashley Sheng?  You are family?  Truly?”

“Sheng?”  He realized Ash must have changed his name and decided his cousin must have had a good reason.  “Ashley Sheng.  Yes, but I don’t think we have time to talk about it.  The Veil-Wraiths are coming.  Can you tell me whether there is a plan?”  Trav knew better than to try taking over in this situation.  If anything, his force was far smaller than the other, surrounding fighters.  This was a time when it would be wise to be humble.

Behind Mei, a rabbit-eared Kin woman carried Ash into the building, and Trav was concerned for a second before his cousin pulled her in for a French kiss.  Trav snorted and thought, Yup, I’m not surprised.

Another cultivator woman walked up to join Mei, saying, “I speak the language of Asgard.  Is an interpreter needed?”

“I don’t think so,” answered Trav.  “But maybe you can hang around just in case.”

“As you wish.”  She bowed.

Mei said, “We have received reports of flying enemies who are carrying more of their kind, the Soldier-Wraiths.  They should be here any moment.”

“You know the names?  ‘Veil-Wraith?’ How?”

“Ash told us.”

“Figures.”  Trav was beginning to grow convinced that his cousin might have inherited a Restless mantle as well.  “So there will be an attack on the roof?”

“Definitely.”

Trav nodded and asked the other cultivator woman to translate for his people while he pondered.  While the cultivator woman translated, the rabbit-eared Kin who’d just been with Ash came over and pulled Narnaste to the side.  They didn’t talk long, but hugged fiercely.  Narnaste came back with a firm look and misty eyes.

As the translator was finishing up, Trav’s eyes roamed the room and saw evidence of a past battle in this place, probably another group in the ancient past who’d desperately defended against Veil-Wraiths.  The thought was grim, because they’d obviously lost.   As soon as the translation ended, Trav said, “I want all of our archers up on the roof, as well as anyone specializing in magic.  Ranged attacks.  Ida and Ysintrill, go up there with them.”

The Pinions saluted, and some of the Dokkalfar did too before running to the steps upward.

“Why aren’t we going with them?” asked Hravalin.

“Just because there are flying Veil-Wraiths doesn’t mean they will all go to the roof,” said Trav.  “They are carrying Soldier-Wraiths, and this place will probably be crawling with them.”  His point was made when there was a flapping sound outside, and shadows began to form at the door.  “Guard the entrances!” Trav shouted.  “We need people up front who can hold them back, and I want anyone here with ranged attacks to get some height, maybe on the stairwells!  Spears, form ranks behind shields!”  He translated what he’d said into Kingdom, and the cultivators present blinked, shocked, but didn’t take long before bursting into motion.

Kin or cultivator, everyone present was a warrior and understood that their survival depended on working together.

The cultivators turned out to be incredibly effective against the Veil-Wraiths, which Trav was thankful for.  While the ruins were old, what was left was solid.  The Soldier-Wraiths were forced to attack through choke points, so Trav organized with some of the cultivator leaders to rotate fighters in and out of the front line, allowing defenders to rest.

Trav took his turn too.  He shuffled and stamped, skewering humanoid shadows on his spear, using his massive strength to kick the things back into each other.  At one point, he actually stabbed a Veil-Wraith with Hex, and was shocked at the reaction it caused.  The attacker shrank back, shrieking as it almost seemed to collapse in on itself.  As soon as it happened, some of the other Soldier-Wraiths cautiously opened some distance, and Trav grinned.

He ran through the press of bodies, popping out somewhere else at the front line and stabbed another Veil-Wraith with Hex.  This creature reacted the same way, and Trav knew he’d discovered he had an extremely effective weapon versus Veil-Wraiths, though he wasn’t sure why.

Hex and Shatter in hand, he moved past the door, actually helping the defenders turn the tide.  In this battle, Hex was far more effective than his magic would have been since he had so little magic power to draw on anymore.

Everyone’s morale had gone up, and the defenders were beginning to turn the tide when the ceiling at the rear of the room collapsed and a massive leg invaded the space.

“What the fuck?” Trav yelled over the bedlam.  Panicked Kin and cultivators rushed away from falling stone, but some had already been crushed.  The Lord-Wraith he’d seen earlier had been big, but nowhere near the size of whatever owned the inky-black leg pulling out of the room.  “It can’t be,” he whispered.

Frightened defenders moved to the doors, and luckily for them, the Soldier-Wraiths seemed just as freaked out.  The smaller Veil-Wraiths had begun moving away at top speed as soon as the massive thing had appeared outside.  Defenders from the room ran down the stairs, abandoning where they’d been fighting.

Among the group of people rushing from the roof was Ash.  Trav’s cousin ran into the throne room with a woman slung over his shoulder.  He was covered in blood, but none of it seemed to be his.

Ash shouted in Kingdom, “We need to clear out!  It’s time to go, right now!”

A sudden flurry of questions rose from the cultivators until a huge fist knocked a hole in the wall the size of a car.  Pieces of stone pelted the ground and a big chunk brained a young man in cultivator robes.  The hand itself slammed another young man to the ground.  Then the hand grabbed a Dokkalfar, jerking her out of the throne room, followed by a fading wail of fear.  Her screams were cut off outside the building.

There was no more hesitation as people tried to escape the throne room.  Trav’s people were some of the first out.  He’d trusted Ash to run into a burning wall, so he’d begun moving as soon as he’d heard his cousin’s command.  His group had almost already been out before he’d seen the hand crash through the wall.  Outside, he got his first good look at the thing that had been dismantling the throne room and his blood ran cold.  “A Destroyer,” he whispered.  Odin’s memories were very firm on the fact these things were bad, bad news.

As Trav watched, the thing casually crunched on the cultivator it held in one hand, and bent down to pick up two wounded Soldier-Wraiths.  There was no way anyone in his group would be able to hurt this thing.  In fact, if he was not mistaken, he and Ash were probably the strongest in the entire group of motley survivors.

Then as the Destroyer ignored most of the fighters on the ground and just amused itself by sampling the people it’d grabbed, Trav saw an opening.  He empowered Shatter with all the energy the spear could take, coaxing a bit more than a single charge from the emberstone powering the enchantments he’d laid on it.

“Gust,” he said, pointing Hex at the ground, and he sprang up, letting the wind assist his jump.  Destroyer-Wraiths were incredibly dangerous, and very hard to damage.  Trav was hoping that his surprise attack with Shatter would be enough to at least cripple the Destroyer.  He was reasonably sure that a blow as powerful as the one he was leveling at the Destroyer’s chest would have even put down Najila, or at least hurt her.

He punched his spear forward, putting everything he had into the strike...and nothing happened.  Trav’s eyes widened in horror, and he used the last of his gust to help push him back, away from the Destroyer.

“Puny life-thing,” the monster gurgled.  It spit blood and worse as it laughed, and took a bite out of one of the Wraiths it held.

Trav stared up at the thing and did an inventory of his available tools.  He had less than a bar of magic power left, Shatter was ineffective, and there was no way Hex was going to be useful as a weapon against the huge Destroyer.  From what he’d seen, Cultivators and Hex seemed effective against Veil-Wraiths, but he wasn’t sure how helpful it was to know these facts—the Destroyer was as different from a Soldier-Wraith as a Dacith was from a Rakshasa.  He darted back as the creature advanced.  It snatched up one of the Pinions and a cultivator.

Behind Trav, Ash ran forward past Trav, but stopped and hopped back, then hopped again on one foot.  That’s right, Ash is a cultivator, realized Trav.  Ash held two small swords in his hands and met Trav’s eyes, looking up at the Destroyer and back.  Trav understood.  He let his spear drop and grabbed Ash like he had when they were younger, though things had changed.  Now Trav was far stronger than any human on Earth.  He flung Ash forward, pointed Hex and whispered, “Gust!”  He put as much power into the rune spell as he could.

The moment Ash was in the air he did something too and gained even more speed, rocketing forward.  Trav’s long-lost cousin hit the Destroyer in the shoulder with a flash of light, and actually managed to damage the thing!  His blades were stuck in the Destroyer’s flesh, and as Ashe flipped around to put his feet on the Destroyer’s back, the monster’s hand spasmed and it dropped the harpy and cultivator it’d grabbed.

The Destroyer screamed, more in anger than pain, and reached back toward Ash.  Trav saw an opening again and knew he had to do something.  He picked up his spear, supercharged it, and skewered the thing’s wrist with all of his strength.  The Destroyer’s unnatural body would likely shrug off any bullet from Earth, but couldn’t resist Trav’s spear—not this time.

With a sound like steam escaping an engine, the Destroyer seemed to actually notice Trav for the first time and tried to grab him.

Trav used some of the last of his magic power to give himself a physical boost, enough to pull his spear free and dodge.  The Destroyer’s hand passed where Trav had just been, and it growled in frustration.

In Trav’s hand, his spear shook. Luckily, Shatter had survived the abuse he’d put it through, but it might need repairs later.

On the Veil-Wraith’s shoulder, Ash got his weapons free and jumped off.  But as soon as Trav’s cousin hit the ground, the Destroyer made a ghastly expression, taking glee as it bent forward to show how its bloodless wound was mending.  This thing is too much for us to handle, thought Trav. His heart sunk, and he hated the fact that his realization and despair was likely exactly what the Destroyer had wanted.

The enormous Veil-Wraith rumbled, “Now, I’m going to—” but abruptly stopped as its head jerked to the side.  Trav knew why.  At that moment, a huge wave of power rolled over the landscape, and it took a moment for Trav to realize it’d come from the two figures who’d been having a staring contest or shit-talking session in the sky.  For all Trav knew, it could have been both, but now it’d come to blows.

The Destroyer’s awful voice was easier to tolerate now since it was distracted.  “Puny life-things.  Find you later,” it growled.  Then the huge thing crouched down, and jumped straight into the air.  Enormous wings that Trav hadn’t even noticed before unfurled and carried it up into the sky, directly toward the source of power washing over the dead world.  Trav looked past it and confirmed that the powerful Kin and cultivator in the sky were definitely fighting now.

If they aren’t paying attention, they’re going to have a hell of a surprise, Trav thought.  Then he shook his head and thought, Nah, they’re not going to like this even if they see that thing coming.

Trav looked around, panting, and couldn’t believe it.  They’d survived.  There weren’t even any more Soldier-Wraiths around.  As soon as the Destroyer had shown up, they’d fled, and it seemed they weren’t in any hurry to come back as long as it was still up in the sky.

His spear dipped until the tip rested on the broken stone of the ruins.  Everyone in the ruins had just escaped death by a hair.

Did you see that coming? he thought at the Oracle, but didn’t get a response.

Chapter 28

“Well, that just happened,” said Yaakova.  Her tone was matter of fact, but the harpy princess was shaking.

Across the broken courtyard, Ash and his cultivators were also watching the Veil-Wraith in the sky as it moved away from them.  Trav drew a shaky breath and glanced around, taking in the destruction caused by the desperate battle he’d just survived.  Massive claw marks had obliterated parts of the stone walls.  Scorch marks dotted the ruins everywhere alongside craters from stray bursts of energy.  Bodies of the dead, both Kin and cultivators, littered the ground.  Some of the dead had been torn apart, and some almost looked alive, like they were only sleeping.

Overhead, distant thunder seemed to frame the titanic struggle in the distance.  Trav had known that some of the more powerful Kin were far stronger than he was, but seeing the heights they could reach was mind blowing.  The fact that Kraachias was likely far more powerful than the Kin and cultivator heavy hitters duking it out right now was a sobering fact.

If he ever did get revenge on Beth’s murderer, it wouldn’t be any time soon.

Trav turned and Ash did at the same time. Their eyes met, and Trav couldn’t help mentally rolling his eyes at his cousin.  Ash had been more like his little brother than his cousin, which was probably why they’d fought so often.  Now, none of that seemed to matter, even though the little bastard had a familiar shit-eating grin on his face, and stood in the same cocky, slacker way.

It seemed like everything Ash had ever tried, he’d succeeded at.  Nobody had ever been disappointed with him, and he’d never been scolded for not living up to his true potential.

After working so long in the mines, Trav had had a lot of time to think, to dissect his past, and now he’d come to peace with that fact that some people were born so talented that they could put forth minimal effort and still achieve great things.  Trav would never be someone like that.  He would always need to struggle and suffer to achieve anything worthwhile.  Meanwhile, Ash was the type of guy who would shine like the sun and attract people to him just by existing.

But now Trav was proud that Ash had survived.  Ash seemed to mean a great deal to a lot of people, too. Maybe his cousin had finally gotten a taste of humility at some point after leaving Earth.  Then in a moment of sudden clarity as he let go of any resentment he might have still held, Travis Sterling could sense Ash’s heart, and knew for a fact that his cousin had been able to use his talents to stand out in an entirely different world.

But Trav was struck again by how little Ash had physically changed other than a more chiseled physique.  He’d always been wearing a gi or hakama back on Earth, so his cultivator outfit didn’t seem out of place at all, either.

He began moving toward Ash.  There was no telling how much longer they could stay in this place.  It was great to know that he still had living family and to see Ash with his own eyes.  There was a lot of catching up to do, but probably not much time to do it.  As he approached the cultivators, some of the Kin behind him hissed, and a few of the cultivators grew agitated, some even moved their feet, orienting their fighting stances toward him.  Without being surrounded by Veil-Wraiths, he supposed they’d all suddenly remembered they wanted to kill each other.  He ignored them.

“So...hell of a thing, huh?” said Ash in English.

“Yeah, so, how—” Trav began, but was suddenly interrupted by a bright flash.  The sky overhead rumbled further, and the air began to buzz.  An enormous boom of thunder crashed through the ruins from directly overhead.  Both the Kin and the cultivators on both sides moved back, trying to find cover.  Trav strangely felt no fear at all, only a strange, detached sense of curiosity, even when two corpses began to rise.

Trav met Ash’s eyes again, but his cousin looked just as confused as Trav felt.  The odd calm that had come over Trav while he watched everything happen grew, but the cultivators and Kin were terrified.  A few of Ash’s friends moved forward protectively, but his cousin waved them back.  Trav did the same with his valkyries.

One of the two corpses that rose, a cultivator, was an old man.  The dead man’s body was mostly intact except for part of his face.  He’d lost an eye, and there was a hole through his chest.  Power gathered around the dead body, almost like a cold, barely visible aura.

The other corpse was a woman.  After she’d gotten to her feet, her dead eyes went wide and she smiled in joy as she began massaging and rubbing her chest.  “Wow, these are just amazing!  I can’t even cup them entirely with my hands!”

The dead woman looked behind herself and wiggled her rear a few times.  “Holy hell.  Look at my ass.  It’s perfect.  Kinda wish we could have talked her into your harem if only to see you play with this, Chosen One.”  She reached back and the dead woman smacked her own bottom.  “Could bounce a coin off this thing,” she said.

“I...Locke?” asked Ash.

The dead woman winked.  “Of course, Chosen One.  Who else?  Now hang on, I need to talk to Gramps.”

“So, we may speak at last,” said the corpse of the old man, and Trav’s hackles rose.

“Odin,” Trav said flatly.  “I thought you were dead.”

“Nothing has changed.  I am still dead, boy!”

Before Trav could reply, the dead woman cheerfully said, “Me too.  Well, sort of.  You sacrificed everything to maintain and pass on your mantle, but I kind of did the opposite.”  She plucked at her hip and whooped.  “Yes!  I’m wearing a thong too!  I knew it!”

Trav glanced at Ash and then the dead woman.  “Are you a god too?  A Restless? So my cousin is like me?”

“What?  What are you all saying?  Did you hear that?” asked Ash.  His expression was screwed up in confusion and he put a finger in his ear.

The dead woman ignored Ash and answered, “Yup!  My name is Locke, the brains of this little operation.”

“What operation?” asked Trav.

“All of them, or at least it should be that way,” said Locke with a grin.  The dead woman was still feeling her own body in a very distracting way.

“Your mouths are moving but I can’t hear anything!” muttered Ash.  The surrounding Kin and cultivators seemed frozen.  After Ash spoke, he began to slow too.

Odin raised a hand, and a circle of energy pulsed outward.  “We do not have much time, and my power is limited.  I got your request for a meeting, young one.  As you know, this is only even possible because of the latent power, deep in this ruin.”

“Yup,” agreed Locke.  The attractive corpse was picking her nose now.  “So you just adjusted time a little for us four?”

“Yes.”  Odin turned to nod at the cultivators and Kin, all who weren’t moving, then at Ash.  “Three now, since you are obviously keeping your charge in the dark.”

Odin turned to face Locke fully.  “I’m glad you survived, young one.  You are truly a child of Loki, then?”

“Yeah, but me and Dad never got along.”  Locke looked at the animated corpse’s bum again and said, “You know, this really is an amazing ass.  I’m not just saying that, either.  Then again, you can see it too, I don’t need to tell you.”

“Ahem,” Odin coughed.  “You must have unraveled many mysteries to have found the same mystical junction that I did.” Odin had some respect in his voice.

“Nah, not really.  I kind of bumped into you, figured you knew what you were doing, and followed along.  When the event got close I figured it out.”  Locke was scratching an armpit now.  “Do you know how weird it is to be in a veil where cultivation is the dominant power system?  Luckily I still know a lot about it so I can help the Chosen One over there,” Locke said, jerking a thumb at Ash.

“Why can’t Ash hear us?” asked Trav.

“Reasons,” replied Locke with a wink.

Odin seemed stunned.  “So it was all happenstance?  Or was it Fate?”

“Maybe, whatever.  Or I could be lying.  Dad was good at that, if I remember the stories.  He got one over on you before, right?”

With a sigh, Odin said, “Yes, I can definitely see some family resemblance now, at least in how you speak.  We have much to talk about.  What are your goals?”

“Probably something like yours, Gramps.  You know, weren’t we supposed to be a family?  Why is this the first time I’m meeting you?”

“I don’t know that I like your tone, child.”

“Well, I definitely don’t like the fact that I’m dead, and that I died because I knew things.  And I also definitely don’t like how you basically neglected the family after giving them a ton of power, and let your psycho wife run around, doing whatever she wanted, then tried to fix her super levels of crazy by giving her even more power.  What did you think would happen?”

Even while possessing a dead body, Odin looked embarrassed.  “Yes, well, I was not perfect.  Mistakes were made.”

“Your mistake got half our family killed and how many worlds destroyed or enslaved?”

“Wait, what the hell is going on here?” asked Trav.

“It’s really quite simple,” said Locke, who pointed accusingly at Odin.  “This asshole was one of the most powerful beings in the entire continuum.  Think about it...he was obsessed with knowledge and just wandered around, picking his butt and finding forbidden knowledge while my dad was locked up.  How powerful do you need to be, even as a Restless, to just wander around by yourself anywhere, reading dusty old scrolls, not giving a shit about who has it out for you?  And how far does your head have to be up your ass not to wonder if Restless who hate you might go after your family?

“So anyway, after Ragnarok, our pantheon, our family, was weakened, and we got attacked by other pantheons.  Everyone got pissed, counterattacked, and kicked the shit out of everyone, in part because of the power that Odin passed around.  So far, so good.  But then this turned into like...World War Gods.  Everyone fucked over everyone, and the powers that be made crazy alliances, trying to get more territory.  War became a pastime, a hobby.  Gramps here was like an arms dealer of knowledge.”

“Yes, well—” began Odin.

“Well, whatever.  You started all this shit by being the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the continuum, then you just, what, decided to retire and go back to wandering around?  Did you really think that would work out?”

“I do not tolerate being talked to like this, family or not!”  Odin thundered.

“See if I give a shit.  We’re both dead, remember?  Look, we’re having this chat because I figure you’re not any happier about all of this than I am, even though this is all at least partially your fault.  Sure, you didn’t make half the Restless lose their damn minds and start weaponizing Veil-Wraiths, or getting into bed with the fucking demons—the real ones, like the ones from hell, but you put the ball in motion.  Thing is, I think maybe you can help end it.  So...do that, please?  End it I mean.”

“Odin can’t end a god damned thing!” growled Trav.  “Everything is on us.  These fuckers are dead.”

“No,” corrected Locke.  “There is no ‘us.’ Everything is on you...and anyone you recruit, I guess.  The Chosen One over there has other shit to do than fix my grandfather’s fucked-up mistakes.  Our family is scary.  You might have heard of them, not everyone is stable.  To be fair, that kind of applies to all the Restless.  Then on top of that, some of their friends and enemies are even worse.”

Trav frowned.  “So there are more people out there other than Frigg who are...doing what exactly?”

“What do those with power who want more of it do, boy?” said Odin, voice tired.  “They try to take more of it.”

“So it’s not just one group of assholes out there, there are more?”

Locke gave a thumbs up.  “Congratulations!  You’re not a complete dumb ass.”

“And this War of the Gods really happened?” asked Trav.

“Getting warmer!”  Locke raised the roof.

Trav ran a hand over his face.  “So there is a second War of the Gods brewing, and some of them are figuring out, or have figured out how to use these fucking things to their advantage,” he said, waving and arm around and pointing at distant Veil-Wraiths.

“Ding ding ding!” yelled Locke.  “And since you inherited dear Grandpappy’s mantle, I hope you can clean this shit up.  The continuum was in a stalemate before, so nobody got too uppity.  Things changed, and we’re all screwed if nut jobs like Frigg keep running around, getting even more power and hatching schemes for kicks.”

“Odin,” said Trav.  “Since you’re here, can you unlock more of your memories in my head?”

“That is not possible.  You will only have access to more knowledge when you are ready for it.”

“Well can I at least ask you questions sometimes then?”

“I’m sorry, but no,” said Odin.  “This meeting was only possible through a unique set of coincidences that won’t likely happen again.”

“God dammit.”  Trav glared at the ancient, dead god.  “You know, if it weren’t for the fact that having you in my head probably saved my life in the mines, I might be pissed right now.”

The ancient god shrugged.  “Life is a battle, boy.  What did you expect?  The more power you have, the more you are capable of, the more complicated your life will become.  My grandchild is being a disrespectful little whelp, but I know Locke’s stock, and it is to be expected.  I hate to admit it, Locke is not exactly wrong, either.  We have to take responsibility for the past.”

“What is this, ‘We,’ shit?” grated Trav.  “Based on this conversation, I am on the hook for everything!”

Locke laughed.  “Sucks to be you! Have fun with all of this!  Anyway, time is about to go back to normal, and we should probably get going.  Everyone is going to be a whole lot of dead soon if you don’t move your asses.”

Odin sighed.  “I had forgotten how tiring it can be to speak to family.  The young one is correct, though.  This temporal bubble is ending and time for conversation is almost over.”  He turned to Trav.  “I am sorry that you must shoulder more burdens, but this is your fate so long as you continue to hold my mantle and make it your own.  Fight, boy!”

A second later, the glow vanished and the sky overhead began to rumble at a different pitch.  The two animated corpses dropped to the ground like puppets with their strings cut, and the feeling of supernatural pressure disappeared from the air.

“What just happened?” Narnaste called, moving closer.

A sudden crash of a stone wall crumbling interrupted Trav as he began to speak.  Another wall coming down followed that one.  The second wall’s destruction had revealed a hidden room, and the sparkle of gold caught everyone’s eye.

“Uh...treasure?” asked Ash.  He met Trav’s eyes, but then did something strange.  As Trav watched, his cousin took the body of the woman who’d just been speaking, did something Trav didn’t understand, and the corpse seemed to disappear into his ring.

What the fuck? thought Trav.  He looked around but none of the cultivators seemed all that surprised, and he began to wonder what his cousin was going to do with the corpse.

Ash said, “I...I think the Destroyer broke whatever was holding this place together.  The Wraiths are going to come back too.”  As if he hadn’t just nabbed a corpse, Ash stood casually in a way that might have made Trav furious in the past, and now just amused him.  He asked, “Split the treasure and bolt?  Back to our...our own veils?”

“Yeah, that’ll work.”  Trav felt a pang of sadness.  “No time to really catch up, I guess.”  He waved his hand around them, indicating the obvious.

Ash scratched himself awkwardly and said, “Ah...no.  Doesn’t seem like it, but it’s good to know you’re alive.  That you’re okay.  Neat eye patch, by the way.”

The cultivator woman named Mei moved over and said, “We have completed our mission.  We should return as quickly as possible.  You should tell your...brother, or cousin, that they should flee quickly.  As we must do.”

Trav gave Mei a strange look.  She’d seemed solid before, but he was getting the feeling that the women surrounding Ash were as strange as his own valkyries.

Ash seemed hesitant, but sighed and said, “She said we need to go.  Now.  Which means...uh...this is goodbye.  Again.”

Trav nodded and offered his hand, the way he would to another man, an equal. “Then goodbye, safe travels, and fare you well, Ashley.”  He smiled.

Ash shook his hand, still flicking his eyes around awkwardly, and Trav thought, fuck it, and crushed his cousin in a powerful hug.

Around them, the various Kin and cultivators who’d been close hadn’t needed to be told twice about the treasure.  They’d already hopped into the previously hidden room, hauling things out, throwing them in bags.  The two sides gave each other hard, distrusting looks, but no violence broke out.

It was all done faster than Trav could believe possible.  Then the ground rumbled, and another wave of savage, violent power washed over everyone from the fight above.  The energy was hard to tolerate, but was keeping the Veil-Wraiths away from the time being.  It was a temporary thing.

Without another word, Trav and Ash parted, going separate directions, taking their people with them.

Chapter 29

Trav stumbled out of the portal back into Asgard and couldn’t believe how good the air smelled.  Behind him, his valkyries, the harpies, and the handful of Dokkalfar who’d survived followed him into the twilight.  Some of them fell to their knees, or even lay on the ground.  They’d had to leave the last of the horses behind, a move that had twisted Trav’s stomach.  Turning loose the horses had been the only way to distract one last group of Soldier-Wraiths in front of the portal, though.

Harpy guards wearing Royal colors around him stood at attention, and behind his group, the portal to the Veil-overlap flickered.  It would likely disappear in less than a day.  Thankfully, no Veil-Wraiths had followed them, and Trav didn’t think they could, but he was glad for the guards.

One of the guards approached and said, “Please follow me.”  She gave the Dokkalfar a considering look, and looked like she might say something, but Trav met her eyes and slowly shook her head.  The guard swallowed anything she might have thought to say.

“That was a terrible vacation,” Trav sighed in English.  “Let’s not do it again.”

“What, Master?” Narnaste quietly asked.

“Nothing, Narn.  Guard, we will gladly follow you after you get us some horses.  Everyone is exhausted.”

“Oh.”  The guard stared at Trav and seemed frozen.

Hravalin moved next to Trav and said, “He speaks for me as well.  I must insist.”

“Oh, yes, of course, Guide!”  The guard took off like her feathers were on fire.

Trav turned to look at his people and winced.  Seven Dokkalfar had survived, including Ida.  Thankfully, his valkyries, Bravoosa, and Hravalin had made it too, but only ten of the Pinions had come back to Asgard.  A sense of loss that Trav had never expected threatened to overwhelm him, and he promised himself he’d deal with it later.  He would mourn the harpy soldiers.

In less than half an hour the survivors were on horses, and following the guard.  But instead of leading them to the royal palace, or the swamp where they’d received the rules, she led them back to the East tribe’s territory.

“What—” Trav began.

The guard saluted and said, “Your Highness, the Queen has asked me not to answer any of your questions, just bring you to her.”\

“The Queen?” he asked, but the guard wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Trav numbly stared at the guard’s back and wondered what the hell was going on.  Granted, this reception was better than he’d feared, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.  Now that they were all back on Asgard, his soldiers were probably getting some of their power back, and he noticed some of the harpies flexing their claws.  They were all exhausted, but he knew if he gave the word, they would all attack at his command.

Hopefully everything was okay.  He’d gone through too much just to be stabbed in the back after managing to return.

***

The guard led him back to the Guide building in the East tribe, and he could tell that Hravalin was also frustrated and confused.  They were all tired, probably still moving out of spite.  Only the fact that they were so exhausted was probably keeping everyone quiet.  All the harpies knew that by Guide trial protocol, they should have gone straight to the royal palace.

Instead, they trooped into the same room where Trav had first met Hravalin, and he blinked when he saw Tiffany on the throne.  Jang-mi stood at her shoulder, and Sebastian was handling paperwork, putting things in piles on a table in front of her.  She had someone else with her on the dais too, and Trav recognized her.  When he’d visited the prison, she’d been the Demona woman behind the counter.

Tiffany smiled as they walked in.  She walked to Trav and gave him a hug, then wrinkled her nose and said, “You stink, but thank the stars you are unharmed.”  She ran her eyes over the entire wounded group.  “Stars, what happened to you all?”

Trav smiled without humor.  Most of the group who’d returned to the East tribe were not with them.  Some of the Pinions and Dokkalfar had been taken to the hospital; their wounds had been pressing.  At his order, all of the remaining Dokkalfar had been taken to Trav’s rooms where they’d be relatively safe.  Now Trav only stood with Hravalin and his valkyries.  The guard who’d led him in had already left.  Guards stood outside both doors, but Tiffany put a finger in the air, and after Trav sensed a burst of power, both entrances shut.  Then Tiffany produced a fan and Trav watched as her familiar eavesdropping barrier sprang up.

“What happened?” Trav asked.  He pulled some chairs out from the wall for him, Hravalin, and his valkyries.

“Well, I became queen of Bernacia.”

Trav didn’t ask any obvious question to that statement, just gave her a tired look.

“Okay, fine.  You’re taking some of the fun out of this, but looking at you all, I can tell you’re not in the mood.  We’ll get to your story later.  I get the feeling you don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, here goes my end,” said Tiffany.  She opened and shut her fan a few times, and said, “Less than three hours after you left, the first assassination attempt happened.  We stopped it, but when it happened, I realized we’d missed something.”

“What do you mean?”

“They tried to kill Rahim.”

Trav immediately stood, fire in his eyes, and what power he had roiled, making a visible glow appear on his arms.

Tiffany held out a hand and said, “He’s fine!  He’s fine, I promise!”  When Trav sat back down, she said, “Yeah, it shocked me too, and that’s when I realized we’d forgotten about social hierarchies on Asgard.  Rakshasa are the top of the food chain in Kyvendi.  As the ‘father’ of a Rakshasa, that put you at the top already, despite being human. Then as Restless...it’s one reason we’d started getting followers so quickly.”

“We?”

“Of course.  We are a pantheon—we’re married, so if I build faith it helps you and vice versa.  In fact, have you checked for any changes after getting back?”

Trav frowned as he looked inside himself, measuring his energy, and his eyebrows shot up as he realized he’d gained two bars of power.  “What?”

“We have a lot more followers now, actually most of the harpies in Bernacia.”  Tiffany looked pleased with herself, but she probably should be.

“Why could I only feel the...changes now?” asked Trav.

“I was actually afraid it would happen, that the Veil-overlap might slow your gain.  No matter.  I told everyone you’d survive.  After all, you are the Allfather, and their king.”  She gave Trav a wicked grin.  “When none of the other Guides had returned in four days, some of the harpies started to doubt, but I insisted you’d return.”

“How did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t for sure, but I knew you were still alive because of our bond, and if you hadn’t returned, everything, and I mean everything would be ruined anyway, so I bet everything on my husband.”  Tiffany sobered a bit and crossed her legs, but Trav couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Tiffany, I know you’re enjoying this, but we are even more tired than we look.  Can you give me the minimum that I need to know so I can shower and rest?”

“Oh, fine.  After I realized that we’d overlooked basic Kin culture, I started an organized church for the Allfather and Skymother—that’s my new moniker, I’m proud of it—then I overthrew the current government, imprisoned the Seneschal and the Ancient, and forged diplomatic ties between the East tribe and the South tribe.”

Trav’s jaw dropped open.  “In a week?”

Tiffany’s eyes sparkled.  “Like I told you before, Travis Sterling, I can be a very dangerous woman, and a dependable ally.  But to be fair, one thing I’m starting to understand is that most of the Kin on Asgard want to believe in something, and a surprising number of them were secretly sympathetic to the Faithful.”

“So you started a religious coup.”

“Exactly!  And Hravalin and Yaakova’s tribe helped a lot.  The fact two of their rising stars were both smitten with my one-eyed, tall, dark and brooding Restless husband helped, too.  Your little murder demonstration in the swamp before leaving didn’t hurt, either.”

Trav shook his head.  “This is...a lot.  I need to get the full story from you later, but this is why we came here, right, to the East tribe?  The new leaders of Bernacia have already been decided?”

“Well, mostly.  I’m the queen, you’re the king, and Hravalin will lead the East tribe.  The new government is set up similarly to how the old one ran.”

So what is she doing here,” Trav asked, nodding to the Demona woman standing next to Jang-mi.

“Ah.  She approached me yesterday and told me some of what she had to tell you, but said she wouldn’t give the full message to anyone but you.” Tiffany turned.  “Come forward, sweetie.”

At times like this, Trav was reminded that his wife may look like a petite blond woman, but actually had the mantle of an ancient goddess.

The Demona woman stepped forward.  “You remember me, Tr—, Your Highness?”

Trav was tempted to tell her to drop the honorifics, but didn’t say anything.  This was not Earth, and real life was not like the movies.  Furthermore, Kin were not humans.  He said, “I remember you, but what was your name again?”

“It is Sivin, Highness.  I didn’t know what to do, so I came to the new Queen, so I could find you.”

“Can you explain?”

“A few days ago, I got orders to return to Demona.  After some snooping, a friend told me the real reason.  Demona soldiers are marching here, to Bernacia.  It’s a suppression! They heard about what was going on, and they are going to finally, officially absorb Bernacia!”

“Why didn’t you leave?” asked Trav.

Sivin looked down.  “I don’t think it’s right,” she said.  After swallowing, she finally said, “My parents are Faithful.  I was never religious, but I can look around and see how much better things have gotten since you and the Queen arrived in Bernacia.  Some might think I’m betraying my country, but I just want what is best for Bernacia.  I think what the government is doing is a mistake, and I wanted to warn you.”  She began to softly cry.  “In reality, I’m loyal to Demona.  This just is not right.”

Tiffany nodded.  “I only got a little of that before, but I could figure out the rest.  How long until the Demona army gets here, Sivin?”

“Probably about three to six months.”

That was honestly much more time than Trav feared he would have.  “Why so long?” he asked.

“Because they are sending the entire army, and more.  Bernacia has historically been much of Demona’s military power.  Somehow, Demona has called in some favors, from the Dokkalfar, and from the Untamed to help them subjugate Bernacia.”

“What are they going to get out of it?” asked Trav.  “The Dokkalfar and Untamed?”  He thought, The Untamed too, huh?  The Untamed were smaller, independent Kin nations.

“Probably slaves and land,” said Tiffany.  To the side, Sivin nodded.

Trav tilted his head as he looked at Tiffany.  “So we’re going to have a war, but we have a new powerbase.  Now we need to settle the political changes you’ve made, strengthen the new church you made, win the hearts and minds of the Kin who are not supporting us yet, find talented leaders to help us, build faith, and create a unified harpy army...all in three months?”

“That’s about the right of it, yes.”

Trav sighed.  “I guess the need to make new valkyries just got a lot more urgent, huh?”

“To say the least.”  Tiffany tapped her fan on her palm.

Trav suddenly thought of something.  “You made a new religion, probably based on the new pantheon we are going to create.  What did you name it?”

“The Pantheon or the religion?”

“Both.”

“If you really hate them, maybe we can change, but it’ll be difficult,” she warned.

“Stop stalling and tell me or I’m going to tickle you.”

Tiffany smiled and put a hand to her chest in mock fear.  “Well if you put it that way, I have no choice, dear husband.  Our pantheon name is Star Family.  The religion name is Astrolia.”

Trav thought about it for a few seconds then smiled back.  “I like it.”

“I’m glad, but you’ve changed.  What happened?  The way you all look, I expected you to be short tempered and scarred, but you seem more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you.”

Trav thought about it for a while and said, “If things had turned out differently here I might be.  But I confirmed that some of my family is still alive, alive and thriving.  This means there might be other family members out there.  If I’m going to find them, much less be able to help if they need it, I need to take care of my family here and get stronger.  I have unfinished business on this world.  I realized it was time for me to stop running from who I am, just accept it and keep moving forward.”

“So what are you going to do now?” asked Tiffany.

Trav swept his eyes over his tired and filthy companions.  “Well, first I’m going to bathe with my valkyries.  You are welcome to join us, Tiffany.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows climbed. “I thought you were tired!”

“I am, I was, but I am getting new energy, remember?  Now I can manage.” Trav continued, “And Hravalin is invited too, if Yaakova allows it.”

Tiffany’s eyes got as big as saucers and Yaakova made a hissing little laugh.  His harpy valkyrie said, “I will agree only if you please take care of Bravoosa soon.  That woman is drooling over you so badly I am afraid she may hurt herself if you tease her anymore.”

When Trav merely nodded, Tiffany raised an eyebrow and said, “As I’ve said before, this stuff doesn’t really make me super happy, but I am a realist.  But what changed?”

Trav looked at his hands while he thought about it, and slowly said, “To protect what is important in my past, I need to let go of my past.  This was confusing, and I didn’t know what that meant until recently, but now I understand.  I’m not the guy who first came to Asgard anymore, and mourning that man has kept me from moving forward.

“This is Asgard, and I hate a lot of Kin, but I love the people who are close to me.  I want to protect my family, and I’m not going to pretend anymore that this has not become my home.”

Tiffany’s eyes glowed.  “Well done, my Lord, well done.”  A tear fell down her face.  “Just promise me that you will help me save my home after we save this one?  I know you already have, but...”

Trav stood and put his hands on her shoulders.  “You have my word.”  This time when he felt the weird feeling, a vibration in his mantle, it didn’t faze him.  He’d been expecting it.

End of Asgard Awakening 2,

---Book Two of Asgard Awakening

Trav’s adventures will be continued in the next volume of Asgard Awakening, book three!

Please read on for a note by the author, including multiple ways to connect on social media.

…And don’t forget to review this novel!

About the Author:

Blaise Corvin served in the US Army in several roles. He has seen the best and the worst that humanity has to offer. A sucker for any hobby involving weapons, art, or improv, he’s a fairly hard core geek.

He currently lives surrounded by enough geeky memorabilia to start a museum.

Being a professional author, he must sometimes talk about himself in third person within author biographies.

It’s all very eccentric.

Cheers!

To Readers,

The best way to help an indie author like me is to leave reviews on Audible or Amazon, and to spread the word about this book on social media! Word of mouth is powerful.

If all you can think of to say is, “I liked this book, you should try it too,” that would be awesome!

In 2016 I published my first book. Now I’m full time. This is pretty amazing, but also extremely scary. The uncertainty can be intense. As an indie writer, it’s usually just me and a computer. Another writer (James Osiris Baldwin) once said that being an indie writer is like working as a professional gambler, but where it takes months to make a bet, you stay inside all the time while creating your bet, and agonize over imaginary people.

…he wasn’t wrong.

This is the best job I’ve ever had…it’s also the most challenging in a lot of ways. I owe so many people for this opportunity, and it sucks that I will never have the means nor the time to pay them all back for their kindness.

As a reminder, Asgard Awakening is part of the VeilVerse universe, a project that I started with my friend, William D. Arand. To read his current VeilVerse story that follows the life of Trav’s cousin Ash, please check out the Cultivating Chaos series.

The universe has already expanded, and please check out John Van Stry’s Take Two.

Ways to connect with me:

1. My Facebook fan group

Amazon and other distributors are pretty terrible at letting you know when my new books are out. For the latest news and updates, join my Facebook group:

Blaise Corvin Reader group
http://www.facebook.com/groups/BlaiseCorvinBooks/

2.  My website

If you’re interested in checking out my website, the URL is http://blaise-corvin.com/.  You can find news, Delvers artwork, and maps.

The site is still a work in progress so please be patient with me.

3. These are my social media pages. Connect with me!

Twitter - @Blaise_Corvin
https://twitter.com/Blaise_Corvin

Facebook - Leave me a like on facebook!

https://www.facebook.com/BlaiseCorvinWriter/

GameLit Society Facebook Group
https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/

Blaise Corvin Reader group (best place for updates)

http://www.facebook.com/groups/BlaiseCorvinBooks/

Harem Lit Facebook group!
https://www.facebook.com/groups/haremlit/

My Patreon!

http://www.patreon.com/BlaiseCorvin

If you really love my work and would like to support me further, Patreon offers a great way to help me pay the bills and keep writing!

My email

If you want to drop me a line for any reason, you can email me at:

Blaise.Corvin.Art@gmail.com

Until next time (--and please leave a review!--)

Thank you for joining me on this adventure!  I couldn’t do it without all the knowledge and encouragement I get on a daily basis from everyone I interact with.

I can’t wait to spend time with you again with Trav, in Asgard Awakening, Book Three.

:)

-BC

The Veilverse Universe is owned by Blaise Corvin (that’s me!) and William D. Arand.

Asgard Awakening follows the adventures of Travis Sterling. To read about his cousin Ash, please check out William’s series, Cultivating Chaos!

Cultivating Chaos

Another talented author, John Van Stry has written in the Veilverse as well!

Take Two