Destined (Desolation #3) (21 page)

I noted how haggard, sad, and resigned he seemed. “We can’t win a second time,” I said, fear coloring my words like mold on bread.

Michael stroked my hair, a constant soothing rhythm. “But we must.” 

And I realized—it needed to be as simple as that. We could not afford to fail. Midgard might be a small planet, but it was the hub around which all the others orbited—should Midgard fall, then Asgard would fall. And without Asgard, there could be no order among the worlds and chaos would invade all creation.

The scrape of a boot against stone came from behind me and I turned in time to see Fahria, followed closely by Longinus, run from the rock enclosure. I focused on Miri, willing her to wake, whispering words of encouragement. A moment later, Longinus returned.

“Excuse me, Lady.” He leaned down, took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “It has begun again.”

My eyes grew wide while my mind looped on,
Again?
My mouth said, “What?”

“The Svarts and Giants have joined forces and call us to battle. Fahria and her sisters have already been forced to engage them.”

Michael jumped to his feet, placing a hand on Cornelius’ shoulder. “Keep her safe. Call for me should she wake or . . . if anything changes.” Cornelius nodded in reply.

“Go safely, my son.” To me, he said, “Desolation. The story of your mother’s courage and strength has been passed down through eons of time. What she did for you, and the potential of what you could do for our cause—for the victory of light over dark—has been the foundation upon which we have built all our efforts against Loki.”

He gently moved Miri so he could stand. He took my hands in his own and pierced me with the intensity of his gaze. “You are not only her daughter, not only Loki’s—but all of ours. You are the best of all of us—though you have a great capacity for evil, you must never think yourself unworthy because of it. We all have our own sins to bear.” He held my left hand, palm down, tracing his thumb over the swirls of black that covered my skin. “Your darkness and light give you a strength unlike any other. It enlivens your soul with a richness and depth no one in all the worlds possesses. You, unlike anyone else, have the power to push back the darkness in the worlds—just as you did in your own soul.”

“But—” My mind reeled with the implications of his words. “I didn’t do it alone. Aaron helped me.” And had died doing it.

To my surprise, Cornelius smiled. “As you’re not alone now.” His face lit up as if what he’d said made sense, then he released my hands and shooed me away. “Now go. Make haste and return to us swiftly. Miri will need you when she wakes.”

I searched his eyes and didn’t see even a shred of doubt there. Not a hint of worry that I would fail to do as he asked, as hope demanded. At stake was the fate of all the worlds, and all that stood between life and death was me—a broken, confused half-breed with a handful of the best friends in all the worlds. I nodded, hoping Cornelius knew I’d do my best. Because I might not feel like the sharpest blade or strongest fist, but I’d be damned if I’d let my friends down.

Michael grabbed my hand and pulled me away from Miri and Cornelius before I had a chance to say any of the things that rose like buoys in my mind.
Thank you. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for being there for Miri. Just . . . thank you.

We ran out to the desert and beheld the battle in full swing once more. We saw Fahria, her sisters and Gardians fanned out in front of us on all sides—it wasn’t until Michael and I took to the sky that I got a clear view of the enemy. And an understanding of how dire our situation had become.

The tall, pale, blue-skinned Svarts stood atop the rocks that rose out of the sand, lobbing volleys of arrows like rain upon the Gardians that rose against them. On the desert beneath them, the Giants spread outward, their numbers so vast I couldn’t see the end of them. They seemed to be as numerous as the grains of sand beneath our feet. 

I felt a wave of love pass from Michael to me—no words, only love. Only a reassurance that, whatever happened, he loved me, and knew I loved him. I tried to push my love for him through the muck of fear and doubt crowding my heart, but I was out of time. I followed him to the ground, to join my sisters and brothers, the Valkyrie and Gardians, the children of Asgard, in a fight for all that was good.

I swung my staff in wide arcs, spinning, spinning, spinning. I fought with every ounce of my being, fought with all that I had, all that I was. I fought with staff and sword, elbow, knee and foot. I used all my body to take down enemy after enemy, and still they came. 

My breath grew ragged in my throat; burning as if I were swallowing searing hot coals, yet still I fought on. From time to time, I was aware of Michael, Fahria or Longinus fighting near me, but my attention was always drawn away so I had no idea how they fared, or the state of the battle in general. I only knew what was right in front of me—the never ending press of bodies and killing weapons.

With a blast of heat that blew over me like a fiery furnace, a Giant stepped in my path, rocking the earth beneath my feet and making me lose my balance. I fell forward, reaching out to steady myself, and landed against him. The heat of his skin burned my hand and his breath singed my eyebrows. He grasped me by my shoulders and proceeded to squeeze, lifting me from the ground, a visceral scream building in his gut and pouring out in a barrage of burning air. 

I felt helpless in his hands, trapped, and so, so tired.

But beyond him I saw something that fueled my weary body. Breathed fury into my weakening heart. I saw James.

A canopied litter sat in the dirt atop a rocky outcropping some twenty yards away. The curtains were pulled back to allow the occupant a clear view of the battle.On a throne of red and gold cushions, wearing a sheath of pale pink, her red hair cascading down her shoulders, reclined Helena. She smiled as she caught my eye and glanced downward, inviting my line of sight to follow hers.

In her hand she held a fine gold chain which led to the collar around the neck of a young man wearing only a white loincloth. There, on hands and knees, providing a footstool for Helena, knelt James.

I sunk my teeth into the inside of the giant’s wrist. He howled and let go of my left arm. I swung wildly in his one hand, my feet unable to touch the ground. I reached for my boot and the small golden blade I’d tucked there. Grabbing the dagger, I kicked my feet and brought myself around, thrusting the knife into the giant’s chin. He screamed, feral and vicious, baring his teeth and lunging forward, but now I was on my feet and he was falling forward, trying to staunch the flow of blood that gushed down his neck. 

He fell face-first into the dirt, soaking the baked clay with his sizzling blood. I jumped onto his back and grabbed my sword with my free hand. With a blade in both fists, I ran toward the litter, a battle cry on my lips while my brain shouted,
Kill Helena, save James. Kill Helena, save James.

But before I reached them, a blast of frigid air threw me backward, twisting, sending me skittering several feet chest-down across the dirt. People—Valkyrie, Giant, Svart, Gardian—fell to the ground all around me. Only Helena, who I could see clearly before me, remained untouched within her canopied sanctuary. 

Only seconds after I’d thought,
Father
, did a booming voice cry, “This is my world, and you will not possess it, Witch.”

I tried to stand, but found myself pinned to the ground beneath the force of Father’s power. To my left and right I saw others struggling against the weight of his presence. He flew slowly forward, coming to hover above the ground in front of me, blocking my view of Helena and James. Father was glorious—his ebony bat-like wings towered far above him, blocking out the sun, blocking much of the sky from my view. He radiated power like an armed missile prepared for launch. 

Helena laughed.

“This is not your world, Loki,” Helena replied in a sultry, lazy voice. “It is merely Odin’s playground. But I say it’s time for others to enjoy its bounty.” 

Father stepped to the ground, sending shockwaves like small earthquakes trembling through the dirt. “This is no place for Svarts or Giants,” he said. “This place was never meant for them.”

Helena laughed and the ground trembled beneath me. “And it was never meant for you. One of your birth has no claim on
any
of the worlds.”

“Odin is my father—and I lead a third of his children in asserting claim to this land.” His voice trembled with fury and his wings stretched and snapped in the frigid wind he conjured around him. 

Fear clouded my vision until I saw only black. I feared he would take me up in another of his dark tornadoes and leave me imprisoned once again. Imprisoned or worse. My friends were here, and James on his knees between the two combatants. Thoughts of what Father could do to those I loved plagued me. I called out to Michael in my mind—but he was as trapped and helpless as I. 

“Testy, testy,” Helena teased. “You may be right, Loki. And perhaps you do have more claim to this world than my friends here, but I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about convincing—I think it’s all of them.” 

A burst of power shot outward from Helena’s litter, sending Father flying backward and releasing me, and everyone else, from his control. I had barely recovered my freedom before I was on my feet, running through the black wind, diving for the litter out of instinct—and finding it gone. I spun around.

“Helena!” I screamed. “Where are you?” All around me, Giants and Svarts fell on my people. I took to the sky, searching for Helena, for James, but all I saw was the battle, and there, beyond the line of Odin’s warriors, I saw a sight that made my blood run cold. 

Father alighted on the ground, and held out his hand. A woman stepped forward, placing her hand in his. Even from where I hovered, I could tell who it was—her wild hair and pale skin could only be one person. Ophelia. 

Father held his left hand out, and Ophelia mirrored him on his other side. And there—ripping through the fabric of space, came an army of dark, sharp-edged creatures as black as Father’s granite mountain. Ophelia and my father commanded Helena’s own creations, the genii, and they fell upon everyone before them, on Valkyrie and Gardian, Svart and Giant, trapping my people between them and Helena’s pawns.

My heart cried out for James. With every ounce of my being I longed to follow Hel—wherever she might have gone—and find him. But carnage roiled across the battlefield with such ferocity that I had no choice but to join the fray. I saw Michael, his golden light shining brighter than any of the others, and fell to the ground beside him. 

I am here,
I told him, my hand brushing against his arm. I reached for the staff within my Halo, but it was gone—probably lost when I’d been thrown to the ground and there was no time to search for it now. I tossed my sword into my right hand and thrust it at a genii crowding in on the left.

I will not leave you,
Michael said.

And then there were no words, no thought.

There was only the sword in my hands, the sweat on my palms, and every thought focused on the desperate need to prevail.

I watch my hands, willing my wrists to stay strong, to stop trembling. I’ve been in this position for as long as I can remember. My knees and wrists have long since gone numb, but it wouldn’t do to lose my strength beneath my lady’s feet, to embarrass her in such a way. No, I will not fail her.

But then . . . 

I hear a name.

James
.

My head jerks up when I hear it, though I can’t exactly say why. The reaction is as sudden and automatic as if my lady has yanked on the chain she keeps coiled around my neck.

She pulls upon it when I move, a hiss of disapproval escaping her perfect lips. It’s not right for me to act on my own volition. I’m my lady’s pet and I’m a good one. I don’t disobey her. 

But before I return my attention to my trembling hands, I see a face. Hear that name again. And both make my heart race with something new, a mystery that slips into my brain and makes me wonder.