War and Famine: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 2) (11 page)

“Um, no, I came to talk to you, but a magic rope would be nice. It’d be easier that way,” Kim replied, a blush spreading across her cheeks as some very inappropriate thoughts flashed through her mind. She needed to get control of herself and fast. She had a job to do after all. Besides, there’d be time for extracurricular activities later.

“Well, unless the next words coming out of your mouth are ‘Beam me up, Scotty,’ and I’m magically transported out of here through the power of science, I’m not sure what help you could be. I’m this close,” he pinched his right thumb and forefinger together, “to brute forcing my way out. So if you’ll excuse me, I have an interdimensional prison to destroy with the strength of my willpower.” He turned away from her, and as he did, she saw the huge sword strapped to his back. It had to be nearly six feet long. “Good luck with your snakes by the way. Those are definitely the most interesting things I’ve seen in a while.” The rain began to fall again, drenching her in an instant and turning the grassy ground beneath her feet into mud.

“Where are you going? You can’t just leave without hearing me out!” Kim called, racing after him, but it seemed like she couldn’t manage to close the space between them. It was like trying to run within a dream, and with each passing second, Caleb got further away from her. It didn’t help that his long, muscular legs ate up the distance like it was going out of style.

“Like I said, I’m breaking out of here,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulders. “For all I know you’re just a distraction created by this world. I can’t lose focus now. Not when I’m so close.”

“That’s why I’m here, Caleb. You can’t break free,” Kim cried, desperately reaching out toward him. Her hands closed on air, but he stopped anyway, as though she’d seized hold of him.

“You’re wrong. I
can
and
will
break free of this prison.” He reached behind his back and gripped the hilt of his sword, pulling it free of its sling. Unslung, it was an even more massive than she realized. It was big enough to cause damage through its sheer mass even if its edge wasn’t wreathed in pulsing golden flame. “I’m not some ordinary person. I am Caleb Oznek, host to the Blue Prince, god of space and time. I wield the blade Incinerator which houses the eternal flame of Surt, the king of Muspelheim himself.” He waved the sword in front of him, and the rain between them turned to steam. “This world cannot hold me for long. Already, I have broken free of the chains that kept me bound. Once I plunge Incinerator into the heart of this world, it will melt into slag, and I will claw my way free of its remains.”

“That’s the problem,” Kim said, swallowing her fear as Caleb fixed her with a sneer. “You can break out, but you shouldn’t. If you do, it could set of Ragnarok. I’m told you are like my friend, Sabastin. If you are, you’ll know why that’s so horrible. Hell, you should be trying to stop that from happening.”

Caleb cocked his head to the side, his body half-turned toward her as he mulled over her words. “Explain yourself. I will give you exactly one chance to do so. Know that if you lie to me, I will rip your mind open and suck out your memories until every single part of you is known to me. You won’t like it. Trust me.” She blinked and everything was gone around her. The only thing that remained of the horizon was a bright blue backdrop. “Now begin your tale, Kim.”

It was pretty much the scariest thing he could have said because when he looked at her, she got the distinct impression if her story didn’t deliver, he would in fact, break open her mind and suck out the juices.

Her story spilled out of her in a torrent of speech while he stood there glaring at her, his eyes full of suspicion. All things considered, it wasn’t the worst conversation she’d ever had, but it was close.

Caden 02:03

Caden was relatively surprised at how easy it was to acquire most of the “impossible” ingredients. One trip to a big box store and he had the beard of a woman, although asking for it had been a little awkward. She’d been nice enough about it, apparently guys asked to feel up her lumberjack hipster beard all the time. Even still, he’d had to part with several dollars before she’d let him pluck a few hairs from her chinny chin, chin.

Now he was in a pet store two stores down from an exotic butcher where he had managed to procure a cooler full of frozen bear sinews of dubious origins. Caden was glad to have gotten out of there intact. There was something about a thin, skeletal butcher wearing a Sweeny Todd t-shirt beneath a blood-spattered apron that made him want to go home and hide beneath his blankets.

Still, both of those items had, in the end, been considerably less horrible than what he was about to try now. Like an idiot, he was going to try to shove a cotton swab down the throat of a parrot with a beak big enough to bite off his thumb. Thankfully, it was the last ingredient on the list. You know, assuming the guy he’d met on the internet hadn’t sold him bogus mountain roots.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Caden asked, glancing up from the gray bird to look at the guy in his early twenties sitting next to the cash register with his feet on the counter next to it. He was holding the crisp hundred dollar bill up to the light as though he still didn’t think it was real even after marking it with one of those fancy pens. Caden got the feeling that if he’d given the guy gold, he’d have bitten it to test for softness.

“Yeah,” the clerk responded, not even looking up from his hundred dollar bill. “Birds have salivary glands just like every other animal. The reason people don’t think they spit is because those glands are located around the base of the tongue, which is why their tongues are dry. Just run your swab along the little ridges at the back of Charlie’s tongue and the roof of his mouth. You’ll get some bird spit.”

“You know a lot for a guy who just took a hundred bucks to let me stick a Q-tip in your parrot’s mouth,” Caden replied, looking back at Charlie the parrot. The bird glared at him.

“What can I say, I like to study birds. Guess you could say I’m a closet Ornithologist.” The clerk chuckled to himself. “I’ll admit, I’m partially interested in seeing if you’ll manage it without getting your nose bitten off.”

Caden grumbled to himself and opened the door to the black wire cage. The bird continued to glare at him.

“Would you like an apple?” Caden asked, holding out an apple wedge with one hand while gripping his cotton swab tightly. He’d have to be quick, since he was relatively sure he’d only get one chance to jam the Q-tip down the creature’s throat. After that, all bets were off.

The parrot took a hesitant step closer, shuffling forward on its beige perch until it was nearer to the door, and while Caden couldn’t be absolutely positive, he was sure the bird’s glare has softened to only mild disdain. Well, at least one of them was getting more comfortable.

He still wasn’t quite sure why he’d gone off on this crazy goose chase. It wasn’t like he disbelieved Oski about its importance or anything. He’d seen more than enough to know there were strange things out there. After dealing with Jormungand, he believed Fenris was real. If Oski insisted the only way to stop the wolf was to release it with a bag full of female neckbeard and bird spit, Caden was sure it would work. The thing that kept nagging at him, kept him from fully committing to this quest was why it had to be him.

Sure, part of him was glad to be needed, to actually be helpful for once, instead of being the odd man out in his group of friends. After all, Ian, Amy, Kim, and Malcom had turned out to be the four horsemen of the apocalypse, as insane as that sounded. What was he? Just a normal person. Even if Oski assured him he could do this, there was a very real possibility he would become wolf chow. After all, that was essentially what happened to Jesse, the only other normal person in their group. He had gotten himself killed by trying to stop Ian while Ian was possessed by Jormungand. And Fenris was supposed to possess a similar ability.

So why again was he doing this? He wasn’t particularly brave or noble. He didn’t even really like people as much as he pretended to like people. He’d been relatively popular in high school, mostly because he was good at changing to suit his surroundings, navigating through the various groups like a chameleon. This was different. There would be no way to blend in with people who could call down thunder and make fire do their bidding. You either had the strength to stand against them or you got the hell out of their way.

He was as good as dead. The knowledge of the absolute certainty of his inevitable doom was somehow comforting. At least he’d go out trying to help. He might be Batman in a world of Supermen, but people still wondered if Batman could take down Superman. Maybe, just for a little while, he could be Batman. You know, without the whole dead parents thing.

Charlie, the gray parrot, opened his beak to snatch the apple slice, and as it did, Caden jabbed the cotton swab into its mouth. The bird squawked, wings flapping as it threw itself backward in its cage, the apple slice forgotten.

Caden stared at the swab in his hand. It glimmered with faint golden light just like all the other items had done after he had acquired them. A smirk crossed his lips as he tossed the apple slice into the cage and shut the door. He shoved the swab into his backpack along with the other eight items. He shouldered his bag and turned back toward the clerk who was only half-watching him. He gave the guy a curt salute.

“Thanks,” he said, heading out the door. It closed behind him with a jingle before the clerk could reply which was just as well. Caden had vaguely recognized the guy as someone who had been a senior when Caden had been a freshman, but he hadn’t known the guy well enough to remember his name. With any luck, he’d been equally forgettable. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain himself to anyone if word got around that he was collecting parrot spit. Then again, it was unlikely he would live through the rest of the day, so there was that.

Oski sat on his motorcycle in the parking lot with a wicked gleam in his one eye. The other was still covered by an eyepatch with a drawing that sort of looked like a half empty cup on it. He hadn’t been there when Caden had entered the pet shop, but then again, Oski claimed to be a Norse god. If that was true, he could probably appear wherever he wanted.

“I got the last one,” Caden said, deciding to play it cool despite not expecting the bible group leader to be sitting outside. He inwardly chastised himself once again. He should have expected it. Oski had been the one to send him on this ridiculous quest. If anyone would know he had gotten the last piece, it ought to be Oski.

“I know,” Oski replied, humor lacing his words as he patted the seat of his bike. “I never had any doubt.”

“Is that because you’re Odin, the All-Father who is wise beyond all measure?” Caden asked, having partially intended his words to be a question that could be played off as a joke.

“Yes,” Oski replied as a silence so profound Caden could hear his own heart beating like a drum settled around them. “What gave it away?”

“You gave me Gungnir. That’s Odin’s spear,” Caden replied because it was one of the most obvious clues he’d had. After all, the rest could have still been made up, but even if the spear wasn’t actually Gungnir, it sure seemed to have magical properties. Every single time he had reached into his backpack to touch the silver cylinder, power radiated up his arm, filling him with confidence and restoring his strength. Gripping the weapon was enough to clear his mind and erase his doubts.

“Ah,” Oski said, a sly smile crossing his lips. “Well, as long as you know who I am, that makes things easier. I won’t have to hide everything from you.” He patted his bike, and it morphed into an eight-legged horse with hair the color of parchment paper. It stood over twenty hands tall and was fitted with well-oiled leather armor. Its nostrils were big enough to have fit an entire softball and still had room left over. “This is my steed, Sleipnir. Forget tall buildings, he is powerful enough to cross between all the nine worlds with but a single bound.” Oski held out one hand. “Take my hand, and we shall journey to Jotunheim, the land of the frost giants and release Fenris.”

Before he could say, “Gee, isn’t it really cold there?” Caden found himself pulled onto the massive horse’s back. Above them, twin ravens the size of passenger jets flitted through the sky. Oski craned his head toward them as though listening to their cries, but Caden couldn’t hear anything at all.

“We must hurry,” Oski said after a long moment. “My idiot son has taken a protector to Fenris. I will do my best to distract them while you unchain the wolf. You must bring the protector to our side.”

“What do you mean?” Caden asked as fear rose up in his throat and threatened to suffocate him. Was Oski really saying one of his godly sons was going to be there to stop them? And what was worse, there was someone else? The thought made him shudder. Hopefully, whoever was there to stop would just listen to Oski and stand aside.

Then again, maybe he was the crazy one. Sure, Odin was said to be wise even among gods, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be wrong. What if releasing the wolf was the absolute wrong thing to do?

Instead of replying, Oski grabbed the reins of Sleipnir and hauled backward on them with his hand. The horse let out a whiney that resounded across the eerily silent parking lot of Pets N’ More before stomping its hooves on the asphalt. Lightning crackled across the sky as Oski held his free hand out in front of them. The air began to swirl between his splayed fingers like molten lava as Oski’s power burned a hole through reality itself. Gobs of glistening orange fluid dripped from the opening as it stretched wider and wider until it was big enough to drive a school bus through.

The horse Sleipnir reared back, snorting loud enough to rattle the windows in the cars in the parking lot before charging forward. Its eight hooves tore up the asphalt like it was soft earth. They hit the rent in space and time in a flurry of motion that caused Caden’s vision to distill into a tiny point of white light.

A moment later, they had emerged on the other side and cold unlike he’d ever felt before wormed into the core of his being and left ice in its wake. Snow covered the landscape for miles in every direction. Sheer cliffs jutted all around them, giving Caden the feeling they were at the bottom of an icy Grand Canyon. He shivered, his teeth chattering so hard it hurt as Sleipnir turned in a quick circle like an immense cat. Its hooves trampled the snow as a ginormous rock filled Caden’s frame of view.