Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13 Page 8

  I was just as curious about that answer.

  “Let’s go ruffle some feathers, Alucard.”

  “They better have drinks,” he complained, spitting again. I rolled my eyes as I ripped open a Gateway to Asgard, right to the royal chambers. Thinking on Norse mythology, a very interesting plan began to emerge in my mind, so I was smiling as I stepped through the Gateway.

  Chapter 13

  Alucard jumped through after me and we found ourselves in the center of the royal chambers—or whatever Odin called his throne room. The Mead Hall, perhaps.

  Conversation suddenly halted, and I realized we were surrounded by what felt like the whole pantheon of Aesir gods, a smattering of warrior einharjar, and a trio of armor-clad Valkyries. The dwarven armorer had obviously relished the opportunity to work on female armor, taking particular care in traversing the pleasant slopes of fresh, previously unexplored new challenges.

  To protect—and accent—the boobies at all costs.

  I could stand behind that.

  Their golden armor gleamed brightly, decorated with sinuous, layered plates, and meticulous, silver filigree that, when combined, served to both emphasize and distort the Valkyrie’s silhouette like an optical illusion—which would be absolute hell in a fight.

  Each set of armor—and the weapons they carried—were unique as well. Some were accented with gems, feathers, strips of cloth, and other design accoutrements that were likely intended to further distract opponents. Or maybe they just liked looking lovely and lethal. They exuded auras of overwhelming violence, and they studied us like cats spotting mice in a barn.

  No. More like black panthers spotting a pair of deer. I wisely dipped my chin at them, specifically. They smirked approvingly.

  Because although I had respected them, I had chosen to respect them before anyone else.

  Odin was standing before his throne, speaking to a few men and women. Freya and Alice stood off to the side, and the blonde-haired child leapt forward with a bright smile as she let out a squeal of delight that threatened to shatter glass. “NATE!”

  I smiled, but held out a hand, urging her to remain where she was—where less projectiles could impale her if my reception was less than warm. Freya got the message and placed a firm hand on Alice’s shoulder, keeping her close. I nodded at Freya. She shot me a very calculating look, shuddering slightly. I had sent Alice here with her to hopefully learn more about her Seer powers, but also so Alice might pick up some information I could later use if the Aesir decided they wanted me off the playing board.

  I hadn’t tricked Alice into doing this. In fact, it had pretty much been her idea to begin with. Tactically, it made perfect sense—help her get better at using her powers, and be a spy on my potential enemies. But as a father figure—or at least, an adult—I didn’t feel quite so noble. Still, Alice would have found her own, likely more dangerous, method to get here and be angry if I had tried to stop her, so I decided that it was better to be on her good side and know what she was up to.

  Odin cursed to see me, looking exhausted. “Damn it all, boy. What do you want?” he snapped.

  “You promised me a meeting,” I said, smiling brightly. “I have some questions, and answers will require a field trip,” I added, making an impulse decision to act upon my vaguely outlined plan that I’d first considered about one minute ago.

  Odin placed a hand on his forehead, closed his eye, and took a deep, calming breath. He’d picked up a replacement eyepatch on his travels, because I’d refused to get his old one back from Grimm. He probably had dozens of them lying around. “Give me a few minutes, and I will be right with you,” he finally said. “I also have things to discuss with you,” he added.

  I nodded absently. “We will just mingle,” I said, smiling pleasantly at all the hostile faces. “I love meeting new friends and catching up with old friends,” I said jovially. I glanced around the room and settled on a familiar face near a table laden with finger foods. “Hey, Heimdall!” I crowed, waving at the manager of the Bifröst. He had been kind to me when I last visited with Gunnar. Whether that had been genuine or not, I had no idea.

  He smirked, waving back at me. “Welcome to Asgard, Temple,” he said. Several pockets of Asgardians began talking in hushed tones, shooting Heimdall thoughtful glances. Perfect. Sow seeds of discord—achievement unlocked.

  Odin pursed his lips unhappily, but finally nodded. “So be it.”

  “Is there anything to drink behind this rippling wall of man meat?” Alucard asked, loud enough for all to hear as he winked at a trio of einherjar who were lined up before a different table that appeared to hold pitchers, drinking horns, and metal goblets.

  One of the leather-armored warriors cocked his head to study Alucard, his chiseled jaw like a slab of hairy granite. “Are you sparkling, little man?” he asked in a gravelly baritone, squinting at Alucard’s skin.

  “Not as much as your eyes, Mr. Dimples,” Alucard fired back, grinning as he took a cue from my approach, “but maybe that’s just the love in the air.”

  The three warriors stood in stunned silence for about five seconds. Then Mr. Dimple’s two pals burst out in laughter, clapping him on the shoulder. His face gradually morphed into a smile when he saw that Alucard obviously wasn’t trying to offend or challenge him personally, but was simply defending himself with wit over brawn.

  Odin continued speaking in low, private tones with the dozen or so people surrounding his throne. He didn’t look happy that we had free reign among his people, so whatever he was talking about must have been very important.

  I wondered who he was talking to, but since old mythology books rarely had accurate profile pictures, it was impossible to guess.

  But I could sense the waves of power radiating from each of them. They were definitely gods. Some of them might even be god-like representatives from other Realms—dwarves, elves, or giants. Although I saw no pointed ears, and I doubted any were giants, because they looked no larger than any of the other gods in attendance.

  I turned to see Alucard now strolling around the room, flipping a coin and humming to himself. He walked right in front of some Valkyries, smirking rakishly. His three new einharjer pals cheered him on, daring him to compliment the warrior maidens. I hoped he didn’t. Well, kind of. Part of me was right beside the einharjer, cheering him on.

  Odin continued to watch me out of the corner of his eye, looking suspicious. The tension in the room was incredible. The gods all knew I had killed one of their fellows in this very room no more than a few weeks ago. Even though the consensus was that Thor had been an asshole, I was still an outsider who had killed one of ‘them.’

  Group think. Herd mentality. Safety in numbers.

  To ease the tension, I walked over to the exact spot where Thor had died and leaned my back against a pillar, eyeing my fingernails as I cocked my leg to anchor my boot against the wall for support.

  My gesture, unsurprisingly, did not ease the tension in the slightest.

  I stared down at the ground, noticing a faint impact crater from where Gunnar had used Mjölnir to pulverize Thor into the ground. I stood right in the center of the area where Thor’s blood had pooled. Back then, my Horseman Mask had been broken—fractured. I had known that a god’s blood might be powerful enough to heal it completely, and I had briefly entertained the idea of dipping my Mask into Thor’s blood to heal the fracture.

  But the more I had thought about it, the more certain I had grown that I simply couldn’t make myself do it. Thor had almost killed Ashley.

  Using his blood to heal my Mask would be a constant reminder of that act—of him—every single time I needed to put it on. His blood would forever taint my Mask of Hope.

  Thor’s essence would touch my face. The man who had almost murdered my friend.

  I knew I could have looked at it another way—that it was a constant reminder of his evil and greed, and that I could use that fiery, emotional reminder to make sure I never walked the same path.

&n
bsp; But I was pretty sure all I would imagine were two puppy paws kicking my fingers from Ashley’s womb. It would taint the whole job of being a Horseman, disgusting me every time I had to put the Mask on. No matter what I told myself, my cause would be tainted—literally powered—by Thor.

  There were lines. I had fewer than most, but that was one I just couldn’t make myself cross.

  So I had used his blood in an entirely different way. And that choice had saved my life with Anubis. I still had reservations about that—about why Anubis had wanted his blood so badly. It hadn’t really been just his blood, but his soul. Still, Anubis was a schemer, and I was confident that he hadn’t been saving my life out of charity. Given recent developments, I had reason to take a trip to Hell and talk to an old friend—

  A large, imposing figure suddenly loomed before me. He was tall and wiry, but he radiated danger. His gray eyes were as cool and calm as a winter pond—and just as lethal beneath that thin layer of ice. They weren’t directly threatening, but fate lurked in those depths for any brave enough to take a swim. He smiled politely. “I am Tyr. God of War,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back.

  I’d read about Tyr. In some stories, he had been the leader of the Norse pantheon long before Odin, so I needed to tread very carefully.

  I remained calm, waiting for some attack or threat. When nothing happened, I held out my hand to shake his. He smirked absently and lifted a nub from behind his back. His hand was entirely missing. “I appreciate the gesture, Master Temple.”

  I winced, remembering another part of his story too late. “Sorry. I completely forgot,” I said, kicking myself.

  He shrugged. “It happens. Fenrir has a wicked bite,” he said softly, shooting a thoughtful look at Odin. I nodded, keeping my face blank. Because Fenrir was prophesied to defeat Odin in Ragnarök, and Fenrir was currently being held in a minimum-security prison. At least, that’s what I feared, because Mordred had abducted him, and now Mordred was dead.

  Which was the whole point of me working with Loki on the sly. Since I no longer had to worry about powerful beings easily being able to read my mind, I didn’t have to fear accidentally giving away that sneaky secret. But my face could still tell on me if I wasn’t careful.

  Gleipnir, the legendary ribbon that restrained Fenrir, was currently being used to hold Mordred’s once brain-washed Knightmares in custody with Alex until I had time to do a final check-up on them.

  Not because I was a good guy who cared about their well-being, but because I wanted Gleipnir back for when Loki and I found Fenrir.

  Until we figured out the ramifications of murdering Thor, I couldn’t risk Fenrir being free and deciding to kick off Ragnarök early. We didn’t have a substitute for Thor to fight Jörmungandr.

  Which was probably one of the things Odin was working so diligently on right now.

  Unfortunately, I also couldn’t risk releasing the Knightmares until I knew they were healed. They were nigh-immortal warriors, and there were nine of them. Even with Mordred dead, those nine Knightmares could cause unbelievable harm if I didn’t approve their general mindset and cleanse their armor.

  Hell, Alex might not even want them in his employ after what they had done—even if it had been against their will.

  Long story short, Gleipnir was needed in multiple places, but since I didn’t yet know where Mordred had stashed Fenrir, Gleipnir would stay with the Knights.

  Camelot was one of my next potential stops, with or without locating Fenrir. I needed to at least finish cleansing their sets of armor. But it wasn’t a priority, because I knew it would leave me exhausted, my power depleted, and I couldn’t afford being out of commission right now. Not when I was working with Loki.

  Priorities. That was what this was all about.

  Which was why I had finally decided to recruit Alucard to help me. Gunnar and Ashley needed to stay with their pups—especially after the whole mist-pire ability they’d displayed—so I’d chosen the Daywalker and fledgling Horseman of Absolution. I’d learned that I could sense the other Horseman Masks, which was something Loki would not be able to duplicate. He could walk and talk like Alucard, but he couldn’t fake that.

  I hoped.

  Because Loki was fucking good at illusions. Even gods couldn’t see through them. So I had spent the last few weeks lying my ass off, laying false trails, only trusting Alucard with my true plan. Like Alucard telling Callie I had been in Cairo, and Gunnar telling the FBI I was out-of-town. Essentially, I was running my own rumor mill to hide the truth, and anything I could do to make things even more confusing was a positive. Like here in Asgard. I needed to play this close to the chest in order to keep myself as safe as possible, but I was humble enough to know that I needed an ally—not just to protect myself from Loki, but also to potentially play dogcatcher for Fenrir.

  Tyr dipped his head. “It’s not every day one meets a godkiller. Or two Horsemen.” He eyed the ground beneath my feet. “Nice introduction. Well, nice reminder, I guess. You’re first introduction spoke volumes, but your encore…” he trailed off, winking. “Imagine me doing the world’s longest slow clap,” he said, lifting up one palm and holding it in front of his face.

  I burst out laughing. “Wow. That…okay.”

  He smirked. “Remember, not all who wander are lost. You have allies here, even though we may hide in the shadows. Crowns are not permanent,” he mused. “Thank the gods.”

  Then he was walking away. I studied him thoughtfully, keeping my face blank since everyone was watching me from a distance. Had he been hinting that he was against Odin, or humbly referring to how he had lost the crown of the Aesir? And what did he know about Fenrir? I knew Thor had been working for—or with—Mordred, but I also suspected him to have had other allies…

  Maybe those allies were present right now. I’d need to stay on my toes, be tough as nails—

  A mongoose suddenly latched onto my leg, raking at me with wicked claws, and I jumped in alarm.

  Chapter 14

  A heartbeat later, the creature hugged my leg tightly, and I realized it was just Alice, too impatient to wait any longer before running over to me. I smiled, patting her on the head and discreetly checking to make sure I hadn’t squealed like a little girl. No one was laughing at me, so I must have played it cool. “Hey, Bones. I’d hoped the diet here would fatten you up more,” I murmured disappointedly.

  She scoffed, swatting at me while giving me a toothy grin. Freya approached with a much more reserved smile, and I could tell she was as tense as wire. Odin discreetly angled himself so that he could observe us in his peripheral vision, and possibly catch a snippet of our conversation.

  “Hey, Freya.” Rather than dancing around the topic and acting polite for the crowd, I dove right in, leaning close to speak unobserved. “I need you to explain what went down with the pups. If I said they turned to smoke and drained a wizard of all of his blood to grow stronger, would that surprise you?”

  Her smile faltered, and her face went pale. “What?” she whispered. Her eyes grew distant, and I could tell she was self-conscious about the eyes in the room watching us. “May we walk, or are you particularly invested in this spot?” she asked, swallowing audibly.

  I straightened, holding out my elbow. “When a woman asks me to walk, I walk.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Doubtful, but I’m not here to quarrel. Things are…not what they seem in Asgard. My husband is not receiving the reception he had hoped for. In fact, he has been absent these past weeks. It is coincidental that you arrive on the same day.”

  I grunted. “He sent the drumsticks with a message. Told me not to come to Asgard. Naturally, I chose to disregard that.”

  She missed a step, but kept her face blank. “Is that so…” We walked onwards, and I realized she was leading me behind the throne to a large balcony overlooking a courtyard that was blooming with frost and winter flowers of some kind. They weren’t quite as strange as Fae, but they were close.

  “Regarding
the wolves,” she began, checking that we were indeed alone, “I had feared that some element of Niflheim would remain, which was one of the reasons I birthed them as wolves rather than babes. I had hoped to strengthen them by using their wolf forms. It seems that it did not work.”

  I gritted my teeth. “And what exactly does that mean, Freya? Are they in danger from this Niflheim element?”

  Freya thought about it and finally shook her head. “If anything, I believe it makes them stronger, but I have no way of knowing.”

  I clenched my fists until my knuckles popped.

  “Maintain your calm,” she urged, flashing me a hollow smile. “There are those who seek opportunities of emotional imbalance here. I understand your frustrations and fear, but I refuse to lie to you, even knowing your penchant to punish the messenger for harsh truths.”

  I took a calming breath and nodded. “I’m listening.”

  “I did not impregnate Ashley,” she said dryly. “I was handed a difficult task—delivering babies who were premature and also past-due. Tell me of another midwife in all of existence, living or dead, who has done such a thing. I can assure you that the babes were healthy when last I saw them.”

  Alice was watching the two of us, keeping her back to the crowd so as not to draw attention with the look on her face. She nodded her agreement. “I played with them. I saw no danger,” she said carefully, letting me know she hadn’t sensed anything with her powers.

  I smiled at her. “Thank you, Alice.” Then I turned to Freya, keeping my face devoid of concern. “They didn’t seem unhealthy when I just saw them, either, but the sudden abilities I mentioned were a shocker. I fear what it might indicate. After their birth, Ashley explained that with their heightened ability to heal as wolves, they would grow healthier in that form then as human babes. But that it will only last a year or so. That’s all I’ve been told.”