Giantfall (Secret Magent Book 1) Read online

  “You should be nicer to your boss. He’s under a lot of stress.”

  “I’d tell you to go to hell, but that’s a low hanging fruit,” I shot back.

  “You really are in a bad mood. Want to talk about it?” she asked, utterly unperturbed.

  “No.”

  “Not even if I give you your guns and butter knife back?”

  “It’s a dagger.”

  “I didn’t hear a no,” she teased.

  I sighed.

  “Pressure. From all sides. I’ve gotten a small collection of bruises, cuts, and even a concussion from raiding Rurik’s little cabin in the woods. And all I got from it was this.”

  I dropped the medal face down onto the table. Lis took half a look at it before her lips curled into a predatory grin.

  “Oh, really? This is Rurik’s?”

  “Yes. And I’ve already spoken with a friend to track it down for me.”

  “That means you have time to waste until he gets back to you. Good,” Lis said, downing the rest of her tall glass of apple juice on the rocks. She probably ordered it from the damn kids menu.

  “Wrong,” I replied.

  “What are you gonna do then, brave sir Charles?”

  “I’m going to do exactly what Lodri asked me to do.”

  Jagged brows rose to perilous heights as a look of surprise filtered over Lis’ face, “Leave the country?”

  I shook my head. “Have a word with the Aesir.”

  Chapter 14

  It’s not everyday that someone gets to meet up with mythological heavyweights. Jotun and Vettir were one thing, but the Aesir were a step above. They were the face of the Norse supernaturals and over the years that means that they’ve gained a lot of pride and lost a lot of tolerance for putting up with lesser creatures.

  Fortunately for me, they had to keep up appearances, even if they did it by proxy. Though I’d arrived at scenic Gronlands Park fifteen minutes early, she was already waiting. I could tell she was the rep with just one look.

  Ignorance is bliss. Lis always emphasized that saying, and made sure I noticed every time one of my fellow man subscribed to it. Religious fundamentals, blue collar workers, and even those with higher education eagerly fell back on it when presented with something that didn’t quite fit their narrow minded mold of what the world ought to be.

  To one of these people, the woman I’d come to meet was tall and good looking with a ponytail of naturally blonde hair and cold blue eyes. Perfectly Human, if a little gifted in height and beauty.

  To anyone else such a lineup of physical attributes, plus the aura of one part dread and one part awe she carried around with her, marked her as a Valkyrie.

  No wonder the Norse looked forward to noble deaths in battle.

  “Pardon my lack of manners, but you look very striking Miss Representative,” I began with a smile and a curt nod.

  The Valkyrie frowned, eyeing me suspiciously. “Be careful of that tongue, or else you’ll find me standing over you as you die.”

  I snorted out a laugh, much to the Valkyrie’s anger and dismay. “I’ve had people trying to send me to Valhalla all day long, so please excuse me if I’m all out of damns to give at the moment. Charles Locke.”

  “You may call me Mist,” the Valkyrie said through clenched teeth.

  “I like that name. Mist, do you know if the Aesir have all their Vettir serfs in a bunch?”

  Mist the Valkyrie stared indignantly at me.

  “How about this then, Miss Rep. I talk, and you can stop me whenever the mere mortal here says something wrong.”

  A glare was my only response.

  “Rumors abound that the Aesir have been itching to bash Jotun skulls in for most of a century. You guys have had to sit on your clouds and look down through two world wars without a chance to get into a single scrap in the mean time. Perfectly understandable blood lust.”

  I sat down on the park bench next to her and casually crossed one leg over the other, staring across at the supernatural beauty.

  “However, someone beat you to the punch. The Jotun have already been weakened with the destruction of a certain museum. What’s worse, every man, woman, and tentacled horror in NT thinks you guys are the ones that did it. Fighting the good fight is one thing, Miss Mist, but being accused of disgusting underhanded tactics?”

  “We are not cowards,” Mist said, her voice low and dangerous.

  “I know,” I replied with a smile. “But someone is taking advantage and making you look like cowards. Vetti warriors are making a mockery of your dominion by resorting to modern weaponry. And if they should actually defeat the Jotun? What would that say about the Aesir?”

  Mist stared down at me with deadly intent.

  I shrugged and carried right on. “It would say that little Goblins defeated the mighty Giants that the Gods themselves could not. Which leads me to my question: Why are you not leaping to the aid of the Jotun? They are fighting a guerilla war against an enemy who has superior technology, numbers, and--”

  “And adversaries skulking in the dark,” Mist said, cutting me off.

  I blinked in surprise. “So the reason you don’t act is because you think something out there is waiting for you to make a false move and then pounce on you?”

  Mist didn’t nod, but she didn’t shake her head either. “The Aesir have decided that this conflict has little to do with them so long as it does not trespass into Asgard or territories protected by us. That is non negotiable. Especially not by a lowly magician so drunk with overconfidence that he thinks himself worthy to speak out against their word.”

  “What a terrible misunderstanding,” I began. “I was under the impression that Valkyries rewarded the brave, not threatened them for having the gall to call out cowardice when they see it. My fault.”

  In a flash of movement, an ornate spear as white as snow materialized into Mist’s hand, which she then thrust towards me. Contorting my body to the side, I narrowly dodged the lethal spike as it pierced between my legs, through the park bench and deep into the frozen dirt beneath me.

  I think that struck a chord. My eyes narrowed and I let my hands hang at my side, comfortably close to my wand.

  “To be fair, I deserved that. But I will reply to the next attempt on my life, Mist.”

  Mist effortlessly withdrew her spear from the ground and turned to stare at me like a hungry she-wolf. “You really think you can harm me, mortal?” she asked incredulously.

  “Of course not,” I answered honestly. “I can’t promise I’ll win, but I can promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you have a very bad day. That’s it.”

  A smile curled on Mist’s lips, followed by a chuckle that evolved into a laugh that evolved into a booming guffaw. She slapped the park bench with enough mirth to put a visible dent in it.

  “Charles Locke. You are a braggart and a badger," she managed between fits of laughter.

  “Braggart I understand, but badger?” I asked.

  Mist grinned, her gaze no less dangerous than before, I carefully noted.

  “Charles, who would win? A single badger, or three wolves?”

  “Wolves. Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” Mist agreed. “But even though they’d win every time, wolves will never hunt badgers if they can help it.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  The Valkyrie gripped my collar and dragged me to within an inch of her face. Frigid breath menacingly washed over me as she spoke. “Because, even if it would be an easy kill, the badger will fight fiercely to the end. Losing an eye or gaining painful scars is not worth the meal they’d get in return.”

  I grinned in understanding. “Does that mean we’re going to play nice?”

  Mist released me and cleared her throat. “I’ll do one better. A boon for your feat of courage.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “How generous.”

  “Speaking of wolves, did you know that the Vetti held many pacts with them until just recently? Most Vettir are lit
tle more than slaves and henchmen to we and the Jotun alike, but they are nature spirits, you know. Go speak to the old friends of the Vettir. I’m sure they can tell you something you don’t already know That is all I can say.”

  “More than enough. Thank you Mist. Oh. One more thing.”

  “And that is?” Mist asked impatiently.

  “If I die and end up in Valhalla, I wanted you to know I’m only partial to hard alcohol. Just a heads up.”

  Mist snorted derisively, and we parted ways.

  As I returned to Dunkirk’s car, I noticed something amiss. Beneath the driver’s side of the car bulged the edge of a large envelope. A car bomb? No, too small. Random litter I didn’t register when I first parked? Impossible.

  Carefully, I reached down and retrieved the packet and recognized faded letters quickly scrawled onto the front of it.

  'Charles, for your eyes only. Heidi.'

  Chapter 15

  I opened the door to my hotel room and barged right in, tossing aside my coat and unbuttoning my shirt. Even though the room I rented was lavish by just about anyone’s reckoning, it rarely got any use from me. Hell, Lis used it more than I did, judging by the sound of the shower running.

  Taking a seat on the couch, I put Brigitte’s package on the table and found myself staring at it uneasily. It could be a bomb, my paranoia whispered to me. I shook my head free of the voice.

  I tore open the top of the package and emptied it on the exquisite wooden table. Clattering onto the fine wooden tabletop was a single disk slightly too large to fit into the palm of my hand. Not a bomb. On the surface sharp runes tingled with latent magical power.

  Just as the question ‘what the hell is this?’ entered my mind, I felt a diabolical presence in the room. The pungent scent of brimstone and sweet, fiercely feminine shampoo wafted into the air.

  “Home movies?” Lis asked, sitting down next to me on the coach. Dangerously close.

  Her black hair was still wet from the shower. She was wearing long pajama bottoms, black socks with white wings printed on them, and a roomy white T-shirt with a chubby cherub blowing a trumpet right in the center.

  Lisistrathiel always took her irony and her blasphemy very seriously.

  “What do you mean by movies?” I asked, trying not to notice how pants tighteningly nubile she looked even in baggy girl-next-door clothing.

  The wet skin was what sold it. An impossible to ignore reminder that she’d been very naked a very short span of time ago.

  “That’s a whatchamacallit,” Lis said. “An Urd disk. It plays visions magically imprinted onto it. Pretty rare. Can only be activated by the one it’s meant to be seen by. In other words, fancy magic that attempts to ape Mundane tech. I wonder what else NORN is hiding in it’s hoards?”

  “Home movies it is then,” I replied and slapped a magically charged hand onto the Urd disk to activate it.

  It came to life with a low droning hum. The muffled clang of something like a bell resounded from within, and then, between the runes, I could just make out Brigitte’s face stained in blue light.

  “Charles. I’m sorry I can’t tell you in person but there’s trouble coming your way. A lot of it. Rurik’s orders just came in. Look closely,” spoke Brigitte, but in a voice half garbled into a thin crystalline pitch.

  With a flash of ice blue light, Brigitte’s face faded, and the Urd disk replaced it with a very archaic looking map of Norway. On it, blinked three ruby red lights.

  “This is where Rurik plans to hit. There are five Jotun Locuses remaining in the realm of Mundanity right now. In order to shatter the Jotun magical superiority, they need to level three of the Locuses simultaneously. These three.”

  “Brigitte, you are a goddamn life saver. This is what we needed,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Rurik explained to the Vetti chiefs just now that they don’t have enough man power to win against the Jotun if they only take two of the five. That’s why he plans on a lightning strike to pull the rug out from under us hard and fast.”

  Lis raised jagged eyebrows, her toes curled. “That clever little worm. Eine kleine Blitzkrieg?”

  “Compliment bad guys later Lis,” I retorted.

  “I know you can’t defend all three of these points on your own, Charles, but there’s no one else I can turn to. I’ll stay here and feed information to NORN for as long as I can,” Brigitte said, before her face rematerialized on the Urd disk.

  Suddenly her hand raised to the side of the vision. If I were right there, it would have been close enough to stroke my jaw. “I’ll be in touch, Charles. Stay safe.”

  And the stone disk abruptly cut off.

  She’d risked her loyalties with NORN, her own safety, and overcame a lot of hassle to let me know this. Hjelti was right. Brigitte was one of the good ones.

  “She’s a keeper,” I said to Lis, cocking a grin in her direction.

  Lis smiled, but her eyebrows furrowed. Experience has taught me over the years that this was a dangerous reaction to get from the she-devil.

  “A keeper. Her.” Lis said.

  “Are you going to argue against the value of the insight she’s just given us? She risked life and limb to get me this information. Do you suspect her of trying to trick me or something?” I demanded.

  Another smile. Sharp teeth. “Trick? Nah. She’s not trying to trick you.”

  That confirmed my paranoia was unfounded, but now I had another question on my mind.

  “Why are you so against her then?”

  The she-devil crossed one long luscious leg over the other before fixing her molten eyes on me. “Because Charlie. She’s wet behind the ears. She’s greener than her Goblin getup. But most importantly, she’s not your type.”

  “Bullshit,” I shot back.

  “Dei sincera, Charlie. You’re too hot headed to get along well with a girl like her anyways. Trust me. Your type is totally different.”

  What the hell does she know about my damn type?

  “If you’re trying to get me to second guess myself it won’t work. You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I muttered in response.

  Lis smiled at this. “Serpents don’t bark up trees, Charlie. They climb them.”

  A groan fled my lips. “Enough. If all you’re going to to is talk shit about Brigitte then do it on your damned own. I’m leaving.”

  “Don’t be like that. Where are you going?”

  “Errands,” I said, got my coat, grabbed the Urd disk, and shut the door behind me.

  Conversation over.

  I made it down the stairs before my cell phone rang to the tune of Amazing Grace. She’d set it to that her damn self. I flipped it open just as I made my way out the hotel lobby.

  “Don’t you want your guns back?” Lis asked.

  She sounded apologetic, but I wasn’t buying it. I’ll show her putting a foot down.

  “I need to drop this thing off somewhere and then meet up with someone. Don’t wait up.”

  “I’ll make it up to you later,” I heard before I could cut the call.

  It’s hard to tell which is worse sometimes; when she gets like this, or when she makes an honest attempt upon my soul.

  I turned a hard left at the corner and walked two blocks until I found the Opera house once more. I dropped the Urd disk into Lodri’s empty stall with a brief note before backtracking to the hotel and getting into Dunkirk’s car. NT would now be ready for whatever storm might come.

  “All right then Charles,” I mumbled to myself, straightening the rear view mirror. “Let’s see some of that famous animal magnetism of yours.”

  Time for a meaningful chat with wolves.

  Chapter 16

  I got off of the E6 highway and took a back road into a brutal bit of woodland called the Ostmarka. Even though we live in an age of reason and civilization, it’s easy to forget what the rest of the world looks like outside of comfy suburban homes and skyscrapers.

  Ostmarka wasn’t a cozy natural park with little t
roupes of hikers coming and going. There were no bike trails. There were no floral arrangements or signs telling you to stay away from certain plants or that there might be wolves around. It was a real wilderness.

  I hiked through the scrub and unforgiving forest. Rocky outcroppings and collapsed tree trunks littered the forest floor and I began to hear my instincts louder and louder.

  I ignored the mounting anxiousness of being alone in a forest full of hungry beasts and pushed on until I found a suitable locale. A desolate clearing. At the very center stood a large stone slab that the surrounding trees didn’t dare take a step closer to.

  “Now, the real fun begins,” I said to myself, and knelt down before the slab.

  Summoning magic is not for the faint of heart. It requires a supreme amount of magical power or a copious amount of will to work, and depending on who or what you wanted summoned, it would require an appropriate locale, and offering.

  Wolves were intricately connected with nature and blood magickry. Much like the Vetti. It’s probably why they made such good friends. I got the natural locale down perfectly. Now I just had to summon my will.

  I closed my eyes and gripped my hands together in the facsimile of a prayer. It wasn’t the action that mattered. It was the significance it held for me. I was raised Christian. So to speak. That meant that when I wanted to commune with the divine, I prayed like a Sunday school teacher.

  There was magic to draw on in the forest. And it came freely to me once I concentrated. Willing wouldn’t be enough to do more than wake up the magic. I had to sacrifice something.

  Me.

  I pulled a sharp edged stone from the base of the stone slab and jammed it into my palm, drawing a crudely cut line of blood. I squeezed my fist atop the stone slab and then punctuated the ritual by doing the only thing that seemed appropriate when trying to summon vicious wolves with the intellects of your average high schooler.

  I let out a bestial roar at the top of my lungs.

  The roar echoed through the empty forest. It bounced off the mountains and rattled through the trees until it faded completely. Now came the true test. Hold the desire in, be as a beacon to that which you summoned, and you might just impress the elder divinities into granting an audience.