War and Famine: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 2) (7 page)

“Either way, we need to find Odin and set him against the wolf. If he wins, we win. If he doesn’t well, Vidar will get crazy vengeance powers.” Ian smiled, despite himself. “Seems like a win, win to me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Odin. He is wise beyond all knowing. He will play his part when it comes to pass, but the best thing we can do is keep the wolf from getting free. If we can do that, we can postponement Ragnarok forever.” Sabastin nodded to himself. “That is our best bet for delaying the inevitable.”

“Delay? Isn’t there something we can do to stop Ragnarok?” Amy asked, squeezing Ian’s hand as she spoke.

“Ragnarok
will
happen. It is fated to consume the gods. I can’t say for sure if the sky will really be burnt to a crisp, or if they are prone to hyperbole, but one thing is for certain. The gods are doomed.”

“And why can’t we just kill Fenris?” Ian asked, glaring at the man. He was getting a little annoyed with the whole “we’re powerless to stop inevitable events” thing. He was one of the four horseman of the apocalypse. He was destined to stop apocalyptic events, and as far as he was concerned, this was something he could stop.

“Fenris’s death is foretold. He will die by Vidar’s hand. I suppose there’s a chance that if you confront the wolf, Vidar will step in and help you defeat him, but to do that Fenris would have to be free of his bindings.” Sabastin shook his head. “The magical rope binding him is so powerful it has its own name. It is called Gleipnir and is nearly impossible to break. That’s why Fenris has been sealed away so long because even his great strength cannot snap Gleipnir. Unfortunately, Gleipnir also deflects any attack made upon the wolf, making him virtually indestructible while he is wrapped within its golden threads. Surely you see the dilemma.”

“Are you seriously saying that to kill Fenris, we’d have to release him from his bindings, and in so doing, would likely hasten Ragnarok?” Ian glared even harder at Sabastin.

“Pretty much,” Sabastin replied, moving past them and heading out into the hallway. “But let’s consult the fates. Maybe they have an answer I’ve missed.”

“Is that likely?” Amy asked, releasing Ian’s hand and following after the man.

“Me being wrong? According to my wife and daughter, you have nearly a hundred percent chance of that outcome,” Sabastin said with a laugh as Ian watched them both disappear from view, leaving him standing alone with Sabastin’s unconscious daughter.

“I wonder what you would do if you were here, Lillim,” Ian whispered, staring at the girl for a long while. “Would you do what your father says? Or would you do something else?”

She didn’t reply, but Ian got the distinct feeling she was smirking at him as he walked out the door.

Caden 02:02

Caden fingered his stubby wooden pencil as he leaned against the gray cinderblock wall of the church. He was standing outside between two huge ash trees. The air was cool and crisp, making him glad he’d decided to wear his sweatshirt after all. If he’d had to wait for his dad without it, he’d have turned into a popsicle. If there was one thing he never really liked, it was the cold.

Initially he’d come outside with a couple others, but their parents had long since left while his dad was still inside doing only god knew what. This wasn’t a particularly odd turn of events and was one of the main reasons Caden didn’t like coming to church with his father.

After church, there would invariably be some sort of maintenance problem that would need to be fixed. Since his dad was a handyman of astounding skill, he’d often be roped in to look at a leaky faucet or a breaker that kept tripping. This time, he had ventured into the tiny kitchen to figure out why the oven wasn’t getting warm.

Caden leaned his head against the stone and stared up at the star-filled sky. Almost all the church lights were out, and since it was situated near the outskirts of town, he could see a lot more stars than he normally could when at home. It was almost pretty enough for him to have wanted to bring girls here, however, something about bringing a girl to his church to look at the stars didn’t seem like it’d make the best date. Besides, he had a reputation to keep up.

“Still waiting for your dad?” asked the gruff voice of Oski. Caden turned to look at the man who led the Bikers for the True God bible study group at the church as he approached, leather clad arms swinging by his sides.

Oski had to be in his early seventies with long gray hair tied back into a ponytail and an eyepatch over one eye. His skin was covered in weird runic tattoos, and he had ligature marks around his throat that had been long since healed over. Caden had once asked about them, but had only been told the pursuit of knowledge sometimes came at terrible costs. In fact, Oski was often full of more riddle than wisdom when he spoke.

The biker wasn’t particularly big, standing only average height and having a fairly normal build, but for some reason, Caden always got the impression he was a lot stronger than he appeared. Then again, most of the bikers were stronger than they appeared, so there was that.

“Yeah. I guess he’s trying to fix the oven or something.” Caden gestured toward the kitchen vaguely with one hand. “You know how it is.”

“Your dad does a lot of work for the church.” Oski moved to stand next to Caden and leaned against the wall himself. “Even though he does it for all the right reasons, one day he will likely look back and wish he’d spent more of his time with you.”

“Why do you say that?” Caden asked as a bad feeling fell over him like a dark shadow. “We have a lot of time left.”

“Do you?” Oski replied, a smirk appearing beneath his long white beard. “How do you know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Caden asked, turning to look at the old biker. “Is there something I don’t know?”

“Many things,” Oski said, putting one boney hand on Caden’s shoulder. “There are many things you don’t know, and unfortunately, I don’t have time to teach even a fraction of them to you.” He glanced toward the sky wistfully. “No matter how much time you have, it’s never enough. At the time, it seems like you have an eternity, but in the end, you always wish you had just a little more.” He chuckled. “Do you know how many afternoons I’ve wasted doing things that won’t matter once I’m in the ground?”

“I think ninety-nine percent of the things we do won’t matter when we die.” Caden took a few steps along the concrete walkway toward the doors, leaving him standing beneath the ash trees as they swayed in the breeze.

“That is likely true,” Oski said, and his voice had a haunted quality to it. “I always wish I could have done something more, but alas…”

“What are you talking about, Oski?” Caden whirled around, his hands tightening into fists even though he wasn’t quite sure why. “You’re acting like we’re all going to die tomorrow.”

“Not all of us, no.” The biker chuckled, shaking his head and sending his ponytail whipping around him like a pendant. “I know what happened to your friend, by the way. It was foretold before the world began.” His voice dropped a few octaves. “It was unfortunate Malcom had to die. I feel bad about it because he was your friend.”

“You know what happened?” Caden asked, but couldn’t bring himself to add “to Malcom?”

“Yes.” Oski shook his head and exhaled a cloud of gray mist even though it wasn’t cold enough for that to happen. “My ravens informed me.” Oski gestured toward his motorcycle. It was an immense piece of machinery with way more pieces than seemed quite necessary. It purple with twin ravens painted along its sides. Caden never really cared for the bike because it always seemed like the birds were staring right into his soul and deciphering his innermost thoughts and desires.

“Are you talking crazy right now?” Caden suppressed a shudder and turned back toward the old man and quirked his eyebrow into the air for effect. “That’s a motorcycle. It can’t tell you anything.” Caden shook his head. For a moment it almost seemed like Oski was talking about Malcom’s death, but while he might know Malcom was dead, it was impossible for him to know how. Surely, the man was just rambling about some parable or something Caden hadn’t caught hold of quite yet.

“I was never really sure if I would outlive my son. You would think after so many years, I’d have figured out a way to stop him from dying, but you can only rebel so much against fate.” Oski moved toward Caden, and his face was filled with sadness. “You’d think I’d at least have figured out a way to go into the dark good night before him, but alas, I have not been able to do even that.”

“Your son?” Caden asked, unable to break his gaze from the old biker’s own haunted eye. “What happened to your son?”

“He lent his power to a boy who didn’t understand what he’d been given. Now his power lies lost and forgotten on an unknown battlefield.” A shudder ran through Oski. “It means I will die soon. I’ve spent the last millennia or so trying to delay that inevitability, but now, with my son’s death, I don’t quite see the point in waiting. What’s that saying? No time like the present.”

“What the hell are you babbling about?” Caden cried as fear started to creep up his spine like an icy spider. Caden had known Oski since he was a tiny boy. He’d always stepped in to ask a question or offer advice during pivotal times, but now Oski had alluded to knowing what had happened with Malcom. Then he started talking about a dead son and being alive for over a millennium? What the hell was going on? No, surely Caden was just inferring things that weren’t actually there. Any moment now, Oski was going to start quoting the Bible and teach Caden something important. He just wasn’t quite sure what the wise old biker had in mind.

“I’m talking about Ragnarok,” Oski replied, and the word flew off his lips like a line drive straight to Caden’s gut. “That’s where most of the Norse Gods, myself included, die in a horrible battle that will leave the earth a smoking ruin.”

“You know that’s just a myth and that—”

“You have seen Jormungand the world serpent first hand. You have personally watched the four horseman of the apocalypse in action. Hell, you’ve been to the Valkyrie’s floating city in the clouds, and you doubt my words?” Oski rubbed his face with one hand. “You are supposed to be smarter.”

Caden glared at the old man. It was either that or become so terrified he just died of fright. Somehow, he figured that wouldn’t help much. Now that he was admitting that to himself, a thought struck him. “Why me? I’m just a normal guy. If you’re really a Norse god, you should be meeting with Ian or Amy or—”

“Or Kim?” Oski interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice about Kimmy. Stay as far away from her as you can. She will come bearing gifts for you, will come begging you to do something only you can do. You must
not
accept if you want to keep your life and your sanity. To fulfill her wishes is to seek death in more ways than one.”

“What will she ask me to do?” Caden asked because at the moment he was having a hard time swallowing everything that was going on. This was Oski, and Oski was just some biker. Hell, he ran the bible study. How could he be a Norse god? It just didn’t compute.

“She will ask you to pick up the mantle of death. Do not do it. That is not a power you were meant to wield.” Oski let out a breath through his teeth, and the leaves in the surrounding trees whistled. “But that is not important. What is important is that I need you to do something only you can do. It will sound crazy, and if I’m being honest, it is crazy. It is hard, dangerous, and all around batty.” Oski turned and moved toward his motorcycle. He reached into a black leather bag slung over the seat and pulled out a thin tube about the size of a flashlight. He turned and held it out in front of himself. In the starlight, the object looked like it was the color of freshly melted snow. “I need you to take this and release the Fenris wolf.”

“What the hell is that, and why would I release the Fenris wolf?” Caden replied, his breath catching in his throat as he said the name. Something about saying Fenris gave him the heebie jeebies. It was almost like something monstrous was taking notice of him. “Isn’t that the wolf destined to kill you?”

“This is my spear, Gungnir. They say it can never miss its target, and it does not. Although your target may not be what you think it is.” He flashed a wry smile. “This weapon was forged by Brokkr himself, one of the greatest dwarven smiths. You must keep it with you when you break the impossible to break locks placed around the Fenris wolf or the frozen wastes of Jotunheim will freeze you into a solid block of ice.”

“How am I supposed to do the impossible? I’m normal,” Caden replied, swallowing even though he didn’t mean to do so. Was this guy seriously claiming to be holding Gungnir and telling him to use it to break impossible locks? Even though he got the feeling Oski was telling the truth, he wasn’t quite sure he believed he could do it, despite everything he had seen. It was one thing, after all, to know the Norse gods were real. It was quite another to believe he could be anything other than ineffectual to their plans. He was Jimmy Olsen after all, not Superman.

“Indeed. It is impossible to break the locks, but that is precisely why you are the only one who can do it. I have watched you since you were a tiny child. You can do this.” Oski smiled, and Caden felt warmth and courage surge through him. It was like someone had turned on a sunrise inside of him. “All you need to do is gather up nine objects that do not exist and use them on each of the locks.”

“Even if I believed you and thought for a microsecond I could gather up objects that aren’t real, you still haven’t told me why I should release Fenris,” Caden said, taking a step closer to Oski even though he wasn’t quite sure why.

“Because if there is any hope of stopping the wolf from consuming the sun and the moon, he must be stopped before he reaches full power.” Oski looked up and his eye was full of sorrow. “Even now, the wolf slinks about, his mind free to influence and trick everyone. He can get into your head and make you think it’s so real, you’ll never leave. Except for you. You have no supernatural abilities to speak of. That makes you immune to his mind control. Only you will be able to sneak past his whisperings and break the magic rope Gleipnir. Once he is free of that fetter, he can be killed.”