War of Gods, page 40
part #3 of Paternus Series
Then Freyja herself takes on Fi, buzzing around her, tapping Fi with her cane all over her body so fast Fi doesn’t have a chance, and she can’t get a picture of Freyja’s memories at all. Then Freyja is hobbling away, leaving Fi in a daze.
Pruor says, “What lesson have you just learned?”
“Don’t fight with Freyja.”
“More than that.”
“If faced with a superior opponent, run away?”
“Retreat and call for aid, exactly. Your youth and inexperience are nothing to be ashamed of. You can help no one if you are dead.” She gestures toward Leshy, who lumbers into the arena, and Azh, who flies down to land atop one of the walls. “And what if you find yourself confronted by enemies such as these?”
“Run away faster?”
Pruor pokes her on the forehead. “It looks like we are finally getting something through that thick head of yours.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“You’re going to fight them anyway.”
“What?”
“On the battlefield, there are more times than not when you have no choice. We’ll pretend this is one of them.”
Not only does Fi have to spar with Leshy and Azh, Pruor makes her take on both at once. Azh seems goofy and clumsy when just hanging out with the other Firstborn, but when he sets upon her, she realizes what it means to face a True Ancient. He’s unbelievably fast and strong, with snapping beak and wing-strikes Fi can barely see coming. And Leshy may be a sloth, but he doesn’t move like one. He isn’t as quick as Azh or Freyja, but Fi has a hell of a time escaping his incredible reach and those terrifying long claws of his. He can also leap like a rabbit. Blows from her stick have no effect on either of them, so the “lesson” soon turns into Fi ducking and rolling and jumping to avoid getting hit – though not all that successfully. Walls and statues are knocked down in the process. Fi can tell they’re holding back, too, and either one of them could dispatch her with swift aplomb.
Perched upon a stone plinth, Munin watches, wincing, until he can’t take it anymore. With Leshy pouncing from one side and Azh diving in from the other, Munin appears on Fi’s outstretched arm and slips. They appear thirty feet away, just in time to see the two titans barely avoid a collision with each other. Fi blinks between them and Munin, taking a second to realize what happened.
“Thank you,” she says. He cups a little hand to her ear and whispers, then vanishes.
Fi realizes everyone is staring. “Did Munin just speak to you?” Pruor asks.
“Yeah,” she replies. She notices the wonder in their eyes. “He just said ‘You’re welcome.’ Why?”
Vidar says, “Munin has only ever spoken to his brother, Hugin, and Father.”
“Really?”
“It is true,” says Módi.
They walk away, scratching their heads. Even Pruor is perplexed, which makes Fi feel pretty good. Still, the lessons have been learned. Always be looking ahead at what’s coming, then get the hell out of the way. If all else fails, run screaming for help and pray that Munin is around. Of all the things she’s been taught, she can at least do that last part.
Freyja, Pratha, and Mrs. Mirskaya are seated in the stands. Pratha watches with great interest, one eyebrow raised, while Mrs. Mirskaya smiles and softly claps her hands.
Chiron is recruited to spar with Fi as well, to teach her how to attack and defend herself against creatures like him – four legs to strike with and arms with shield and sword or spear, or a sword in each hand – and instruct her the ways of the shield as well. He’s patient but firm, and Fi can see why the Aesir respect him as an instructor. She enjoys his lessons very much, as painful as they often are. He brings in more of his centaur clan, as well as Ochosi, Brygun and Trejgun, and makes Fi take them all on at the same time.
She learns to be aware of the positions and movements of all opponents at once, but to concentrate on fighting just one at a time – maybe in quick succession, and she might have to return to each a few times – but still, one at a time. Show no mercy. Go for a killing or incapacitating blow at the first possible opportunity – even better, force the opportunity, take it, and move on. Kill or maim, next. Rinse and repeat. As horrible as Fi knows it is, it’s drilled it into her until it becomes mantra. And above all, Chiron says, survive to do it again.
Fi is also introduced to the art of cloaking like a Firstborn.
Fi finds Zeke eating breakfast with Abel and Cain and says, “Look what I can do.”
When Zeke looks up, she shifts into the form of a female ogre. Zeke screeches and falls off his bench, throwing his plate of food all over Azh, who happens to be tottering by behind him. Azh gibbers and squawks, then proceeds to lick himself clean with a long gray tongue while The Twins howl with delight.
Fi shifts back and helps Zeke up. “Shit. Sorry about that.”
“Fuck me,” says Zeke, holding his heart. “How did you learn that all of a sudden?”
“Pratha and Freyja taught me.” She looks around. “Watch this.” She shifts into Freyja, small and frail looking.
“That’s so freaking weird,” Zeke comments. “Now stop it.”
Fi morphs back to herself. “Don’t tell Freyja I did that. She’d kick my ass.”
Abel says, “Not bad, Little Sis.”
“Very well done, for a youngster,” says Cain. “But I’m totally telling Mama.”
“Don’t you dare,” Fi protests.
Abel adds, “Totally.” They both get up and back away, grinning.
“Don’t,” Fi shouts, but they turn and run off, shoving each other as they go. “They won’t really tell, will they?”
Zeke shrugs. “Probably not?”
Fi stomps her foot. “Ugh. Brothers.” Then she smiles.
“You know,” says Zeke, “we’re actually related.”
“Shut up.” She kisses him quick on the mouth. “By a gajillion generations removed. And remember what Mrs. Mirskaya said. Everyone’s related.” She kisses him until his knees go weak, which doesn’t take very long. Releasing him, she says, “Back to the grind. Have a good day at work, honey,” and trots away toward the training yard.
He watches her go, catching Azh glowering at him in the process. “Sorry…”
Though the Firstborn put on brave faces, even cheery for the most part, it’s apparent the coming battle is never far from their minds. None of them sleep and they work nearly all the hours of the day, but they take their free time seriously, singing and playing instruments or challenging each other to chess and any number of other board games Mac brought with him.
Mac takes it upon himself to be the Deva entertainment director. He keeps the bar stocked, plays music with his DJ system and sets up a karaoke machine. He also hands out tablet computers, which the Firstborn use to catch up on everything from news and human history to modern military armaments, movies and music. They receive a Wi-Fi signal via a satellite dish on the roof of the coach, which Peter explains is secure and won’t reveal their location due to the bizarre physical properties of the island itself. Mac also has thousands of songs and music videos of his own, all loaded from the USB drives he saved from his boxing gym, which fascinate Myrddin Wyllt most of all. Others scoff and snort, especially Quon Kiang.
One night Mac dedicates a song to Quon and proceeds to play “Gorilla” by Bruno Mars. Quon scowls and everyone nearby slinks out of reach. It isn’t long, however, before he’s tapping his giant foot, then humming and singing along. Mac’s joke backfires when Quon makes him play the song on repeat for over an hour.
They set up a soccer field (though Edgar insists on calling it football), and play often, even involving the habilis and the ogres. They go through a lot of balls. Mac enlists Munin to take him for more on several occasions.
Cain and Abel, out hunting with Ochosi, find cannabis plants growing in the jungle. They bring them back in stacks and hang them to dry. One sunny afternoon, a group of them lounge in the open outdoor dining area on the plaza near the bar, partaking of their illicit harvest. Fi, of course, is off training with the Aesir. Zeke sips on a beer, but refuses multiple offers from Cain and Abel to hit their hookah, claiming he doesn’t need anything else messing with his head right now. Sekhmet rolls her eyes at Anubis as he lights up, and stalks off. Quon puffs on a joint the size of an American football. Azh lies on his back, kicking at the air and giggling.
When all are good and baked, including Peter and Freyja, Peter bolts up from his seat at the table, jabbing a finger to the sky, and roars, “Ziz approaches! The Terror of the Sky is upon us!”
Benches and chairs topple and drinks are spilled as all leap up, searching the clouds for the enemy, the adrenaline rush of their Firstborn physiology having cleared away all effects of drink and smoke in an instant.
Freyja giggles and Peter grins.
Amidst the groans from the others, Cain says, “Dude. Talk about a buzzkill.”
Freyja raises her voice. “Enough debauchery for one day, you heathens. Back to work!”
Pruor, with the help of the other Valkyries, lays out nearly a hundred weapons on the tables in the plaza.
First Fi is taught how to distinguish between the Astra weapons, the highest class, and the Mighty, also capable of harming Firstborn if used with sufficient force, and how to tell the difference between them and Mortal weapons, the kind made and used by humans. She will need to quickly assess those wielded by her enemies and adjust her actions accordingly.
Astra and Mighty weapons have a certain sheen, even a glow, that Firstborn can see. Fi noticed it first at Freyja’s as she observed the weapons of the Cats and Dogs when they arrived from Egypt. There are also subtle differences between the grades of Astra materials, such as distinct combinations of color, shimmer, patterning, and brightness.
All of this applies to shields and armor as well. She needs to know what certain grades of weapons can damage or pierce, and what they can’t. She’s assured that her own gear will be of the highest Astra class, befitting the status of the Aesir, but an especially powerful foe with kit of equal craft should be approached with great caution and cunning.
She’s also taught about the types of weapons, from different kinds of swords and knives to practically every other variety used over the ages and around the world, even on other worlds, and some of them are quite bizarre.
Zeke comes by with Kabir and The Twins and is fascinated by the display. He picks up one of the swords. “This is called a gladius, right?”
“It is,” says Kabir.
Cain looks askance at how Zeke holds it and waves it around. “In your hand, however, it’s more of a sadius.”
Kabir groans. Abel shoves his snickering brother.
Zeke is slower on the uptake, then says, “Ohhh. I get it.” He sets the sword back on the table, grinning and shaking his head.
Fi has brief lessons on the use of each kind of weapon because her own could be lost in battle and one never knows what they’ll be forced to fight with, but everyone suspects the most common will be swords and spears, so those are what Fi trains with the better part of her schooling. She also has archery lessons with Skadi, Váli and Ochosi, though they often degenerate into a competition between the three of them, and is taught how to use a dozen types of shields. After her introductory training, she’s given one that’s round, not overly large, with a short spike at its center, the shield favored by the Aesir, and drilled with it until it feels like part of her body. They make her go through her forms with a real sword after that, and wear it and her shield everywhere.
Pratha splits her time between working with Zeke, studying the locusts, working the forges set up by Myrddin and his habilis to prepare weapons and armor, but also focused sessions with Fi, helping her train her mind to better focus her attention as well as hopefully further develop and control her clairvoyance. Mrs. Mirskaya insists on being present whenever Fi and Pratha are together, for which Fi is grateful. Pratha isn’t overly cruel, but sometimes she pushes too hard, at least in Mrs. Mirskaya’s opinion, and Fi often comes away with a splitting headache. To be honest, Fi’s still a little scared of The First Daughter. When she admits it to Mrs. Mirskaya, her old babysitter says that simply shows good sense.
Zeke’s Elementalism sessions with Pratha take place in a secluded pass in the mountains. It becomes apparent to all fairly quickly why they go to the trouble of hiking so far.
Strange noises can be heard coming from the pass, and on the first morning a geyser of water in the shape of a foot shoots up into the sky. That afternoon, great spouts of flame like fingers do the same. When they return, one of Zeke’s hands is wrapped where he burned it. Pratha assures everyone, and Zeke, that the elements themselves will heal him as they did before, if he can just get a grip on his power.
The next evening, the earth shakes and an enormous hand of stone reaches out of a rockslide, feeling around as if trying to find its way in the dark. Zeke’s burned hand is healed after that, but he returns with a clubfoot of stone. Pratha is surprisingly positive, claiming it’s only temporary and just part of the process.
Fi, Peter, Ganesh and The Twins are encouraging and do what they can to keep Zeke’s spirits up. They say Zeke hasn’t lost his mind or hurt anyone yet, which is a good thing. Others are not so supportive and continue to watch him carefully while keeping their distance.
Zeke and Kabir find Fi with the Aesir, all taking turns cutting each other’s hair close to their heads with Astra blades, while Freyja looks on. The men are shaving their beards as well. Those having their hair cut are on their knees in a circle, eyes closed.
Idun warns Fi, who is cutting her hair, “This had better look good, Fledge.”
“I’m doing the best I can with this rat’s nest,” Fi retorts, tossing a clump into an urn beside her.
Idun catches Zeke watching and gives him an alluring smile. “Hello, handsome.”
Fi gives Idun’s hair a tug and Zeke’s cheeks turn red. Everyone is watching him now, including Freyja.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Am I interrupting something important?”
“There was a time when this would be a sacred ceremony,” says Freyja, “and you would be hung upside down naked in a tree and your throat slit to appease Odin for your interference.” Zeke swallows hard. Freyja shrugs. “Now it’s just a haircut.”
Zeke gets the impression she wasn’t kidding, and proceeds to Fi cautiously.
“We’re going to have helmets,” Fi says, “but this is so the enemy can’t grab our hair and to keep it out of our eyes. Just in case.”
Zeke ruffles his own longish hair. “Maybe I should do it too.”
“I like your hair! Besides, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about it as much as we will.”
“You never know.”
Idun says, “I’d like to drag him into a cave by that hair.”
Zeke blushes again. Fi scowls. Freyja reprimands Idun, and the pretty Valkyrie pouts.
“Seriously,” says Zeke. “It makes sense. And why not? It’ll be something different, and a whole lot easier to take care of.”
Pruor shrugs and picks up a knife. “I will do it.”
Zeke blanches. Zadkiel, Zeke’s silent guardian shadow, steps forward. “Allow me, Pruor, if you would.” She hesitates, then hands him the knife.
Zeke sits and Kabir kneels behind him. “Are you sure about this?”
Zeke shrugs. “Like I said. Why not?” He turns his head. “Thank you, by the way.”
“Not a problem.”
Fi grimaces comically. Zeke grins at the idea of sitting on an invisible magic island with Aesir from Asgard, having his head shaved by the guardian angel Zadkiel. Not something that happens every day. Or ever. Zeke’s grin falters, though, when Kabir makes a swipe with the knife and tosses the first handful of hair in his lap.
Fi chuckles at the swath of baldness on the back of Zeke’s head. “No going back now.”
No more Firstborn other than Leshy have come, but four days after the Deva’s arrival on the island, a plane flies over, circles back, and rocks its wings. Azh offers to take it down, but Peter sends Munin to investigate. When Munin returns, Peter relays his message that there is nothing to worry about, though he doesn’t say why.
Two days later a small freighter arrives. While the Deva watch cautiously, boats are lowered and guided to shore. Men and women disembark with packs and bundled armor. All wear tagiyah prayer caps, cepken vests, carry tall staffs with woven handles, and have sashes embroidered with symbols designating their affiliation with The Temple of The Bull. Unable to believe his eyes, Asterion meets them on the beach. For generations beyond count they’ve followed The Bull wherever he went in the world. Now they have done it again. Some are still healing from injuries received during the attack on the monastery by Ziz and Xeco, but they’re otherwise fit. As one, they drop their belongings and lower themselves to the ground.
Asterion can bear it no more. He goes to his knees and weeps. “I have failed you all.” They rise and come to him, gently touching his arms and hands, then embrace him until he’s buried in their affection and devotion.
When they release him, a man introduces himself as Ebo. Asterion sniffs and wipes his eyes. “I know you, Ebo.” He stands and looks them over. “I know you all. Each and every name.” Back to Ebo, he says, “You recently had a son. Is he well?”
“He is well, Your Majesty.” Then his face clouds. “But his mother...”
Asterion places a hand on his shoulder, careful not to lay all the weight there. “I am sorry.”
Ebo explains they unearthed Arges’s body, both parts of it, and gave him a funeral worthy of the god he was, then set to finding Asterion and Tanuki. Digging in the library of the fallen temple, they looked through books that described the ancient and hidden places. Not knowing whether he and Tanuki were alive or dead, they were determined to seek out other Firstborn regardless, or perhaps even the enemy. They were not without means, so they sent out planes to search. Now they have found him, and they are glad. When the monks ask after Tanuki, all Asterion tells them is that he is no longer with them.
