Ragnarok

Usurped

Written by Carole Plaine

DEDICATED TO

Valkyr

Thadeus

Gankz

ExDragon

Unperceivable

Kyoko

Marelle

… but mostly to Vash, who made me finish it.

Copyright 2011 Please distribute freely!

 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One .................................................................................................................................................................................1

Chapter two .................................................................................................................................................................................6

Chapter Three .......................................................................................................................................................................... 11

Chapter Four ............................................................................................................................................................................ 18

Chapter Five ............................................................................................................................................................................. 27

Chapter Six ................................................................................................................................................................................ 35

Chapter Seven .......................................................................................................................................................................... 43

Chapter Eight............................................................................................................................................................................ 49

Chapter Nine............................................................................................................................................................................. 54

Chapter Ten .............................................................................................................................................................................. 61

Chapter Eleven ........................................................................................................................................................................ 69

Chapter Twelve ....................................................................................................................................................................... 74

Chapter Thirteen .................................................................................................................................................................... 79

Chapter Fourteen ................................................................................................................................................................... 87

Chapter Fifteen ........................................................................................................................................................................ 90

Chapter Sixteen ....................................................................................................................................................................... 92

Chapter Seventeen ................................................................................................................................................................. 95

Chapter Eighteen .................................................................................................................................................................... 98

Chapter Nineteen ................................................................................................................................................................. 100

Chapter Twenty .................................................................................................................................................................... 104

Chapter Twenty One ........................................................................................................................................................... 107

Chapter Twenty Two .......................................................................................................................................................... 109

Chapter Twenty Three ....................................................................................................................................................... 114

Epilogue .................................................................................................................................................................................. 116

 Ragnarok Usurped 1

CHAPTER ONE

The high wizard sat in the grubby little pub in the oasis town of Fes, sipping his watered-down
drink unenthusiastically. He certainly wasn’t here for the drinks, which were overpriced, or the
atmosphere, which was dank and dirty. The wizard didn’t have any friends here either, as the usual
patrons of this establishment were thieves or assassins. No, he was here for one reason and one
reason only.

The barkeeper walked around the pub, lowering the oil lamps, until only a small area with a stage
was brightly lit. In the darkness, near the stage, a drumbeat started. Slowly, but steadily, the beat
increased until it was the rhythm of a man’s heartbeat. Then she stepped onto the stage.

How many nights had he watched her dance? He had lost count. He still held his forgotten drink in
his hand, but his attention was solely for the girl on the stage.

The völva was draped in silks of gold, which hid her body but not the curves beneath. Her long red
hair was loose around her face and hid her small smile from the rest of the patrons; only the wizard
could see it. At a particular beat, she flung her arms out from her sides, and her head back, revealing
her body, clad only in wisps of red silk. The golden silks flowed like wings behind her as she
strutted to the drum beat, and the catcalls of the drunken patrons.

Her dance was an invitation none were willing to accept. It was a taunt, a dare. Her hips swayed to
the beat of the drum, and her feet clapped a counterpoint to that beat. She swayed her torso
downwards and her hair swept across the stage. As she righted herself, her red hair glowed in the
lamplight like a halo around her face.

The völva proudly stepped down the stage onto the main floor of the pub. Her eyes locked onto the
wizard’s eyes, and she held him there, mesmerized. As she danced closer to him, he could feel the
beads of sweat break out on his forehead. He was master of mystical energies, yet this girl held him
in her power. He was now part of her dance. Closer she came to him. Neither of them noticed as his
drink fell from his fingers and spilled across the grimy table. She took the wizard by the hand and
pulled him out of his chair. Her delicate fingers traced along his grizzled cheek, and then took hold
of the long bronze braid he wore in his hair. She used the braid to turn his head as she danced
around him, so he would continue watching her (as though he had any other choice!) She let go of
his hair to glide in behind him, around him, and her silks brushed against his rough skin. Although
she was no longer touching him, the heat of her body seared him through his robes.

Soon, she was before him again, and with a wink and the toss of her hip, she left him to go back to
the stage and dance her finale. The wizard’s legs felt like water, and he dropped heavily back into
his chair.

The völva swayed her hips and shimmied her breasts to the ever increasing tempo of the drums. As
the beat hit a fevered pitch, she whirled like a sand-dervish. Her hair and silks swung around her in
a frenzy of color, until the drum beat ended and she dropped to her knees on the stage and allowed
them to fall around her body and drape her in privacy. That’s when the girl smiled again, this time
only to herself. She wondered how long it would take the wizard to find the note she had left in the
pocket of his robes.
 Ragnarok Usurped 2

Vakr the high wizard stumbled home through the dusty streets of Fes. After the völva had exited the
stage he had several more drinks to calm the beating of his heart. No matter how watered-down the
drinks, eventually the alcohol soaked into his brain. Vakr knew that when sober, he was more than
a match for any cutpurse that might think him an easy mark. However, when he was this besotted
he was in danger of going home much poorer than he intended. Fortunately, the wizard’s apartment
wasn’t that far from the tavern, and Vakr made it home without incident.

He lurched up the stairs, and fumbled his key into the lock of his apartment. Vakr leaned against the
doorframe and shoved the door open. He let himself fall into the apartment and kicked the door
shut behind him. Again, he worked the key in the lock, shutting himself in for the night.

Vakr sat heavily onto his sturdy work chair, and heard the crackle of parchment. Confused, he
patted his pocket. He didn’t remember having any paper there before. He pulled out a folded sheet
of pale gold parchment and read:

The Broken Arrow, Sigvatr

Be there 9 in the evening.

The handwriting was smooth and unhurried, and the crackling parchment was lightly perfumed
with the völva’s scent. Sigvatr? What was there for him? And what would SHE want with him?

Vakr shrugged off the mantle that marked his rank as a high wizard of the Guild. He looked around
his small apartment and thought to himself how the raise in rank didn’t seem to raise his pay much.
Still the same shabby place, same old furniture, same boring days studying mystical arts...

He slammed his fist down on his parchment-covered table and scraps of notes flew everywhere.
Well, he would go, by the gods! Who knew what the girl wanted, but at least it would be something
new! He tossed his robe of office over the back of his chair and blew out the candle on the table.
Vakr lay down on his straw-ticked bed and let thoughts of secret notes, völvas and danger lull him
to sleep.

The dawn broke, drilling brilliant sunlight through Vakr’s tightly shut eyelids. Oh, gods, he did have
too much to drink the night before! Vakr carefully sat up, but kept his eyes shut. Maybe the spinning
feeling would go away if he just sat still a moment. Vakr’s eyes flew open and he groaned in pain
and slammed them shut again. He had just remembered the note from the völva. He had already
decided to go to the meeting, but wanted a bit of information before he left Fes. Vakr gathered up
his travelling clothes and a few necessities and threw them unceremoniously into his travel pack.
The wizard looked longingly at his books, but decided he didn’t want to carry them all. There was
no way to choose only one or two, so he would leave them in the apartment for now. His rent was
paid up, and Vakr hoped his reputation as a high wizard would keep the landlord from poking
around while he was gone. The common people had strange ideas about the powers of wizards, and
wizards rarely bothered to educate non-initiates about their talents. When commoners feared a
wizard’s power, a wizard didn’t have to use that power as often.

Sigvatr was a haven for archers and hunters, situated within a dense forest hundreds of leagues
from the arid desert that cradled the oasis of Fes. Vakr would travel to Sigvatr via the Äsvor teleport
 Ragnarok Usurped 3

network. Äsvors were a type of automaton, each modeled after a beautiful woman, a wondrous
meld of magic and technology. The corporation that produced the Äsvors kept their manufacture a
closely guarded secret. The Äsvors could be found in most cities, where they shared local news and
provided the teleports that made travel around Midgard safe and quick, but not necessarily
inexpensive. Only large shipments still needed to travel the roads by cart pulled by massive birds
called peminos. The birds were strong and could be vicious fighters if trained properly. Merchants
paid highly for protection for the perilous journeys from city to city, and charged outrageous prices
for their goods accordingly. It was a toss-up whether it was more expensive to teleport directly to
the areas of origin to shop, or simply pay the merchants’ asking prices.

A priest could create a portal for Vakr as well, but the wizard didn’t feel like taking a dose of religion
with his travel, nor did he want to donate his hard-earned cash to a church full of religious zealots.
Since getting to Sigvatr would take no time to speak of, Vakr decided to spend the day gathering a
bit more information about the völva who had summoned him.

Nobody was at the pub at this hour of the morning. Even the barkeeper hadn’t dragged his sorry
self out of bed yet. He must know the girl he had hired to dance. Vakr hammered on the dusty door
to the barkeep’s living quarters behind the tavern.

Suddenly, the door bounced open and the fat, nearly-naked bartender stood framed within it.
“WHAT?” he bellowed. Vakr drew himself up to full height, displaying his robes of office and mantle
of rank, raised one eyebrow and said nothing. The barkeep immediately deflated. “Sorry Sire, I
thought it was one of the drunks from last night, looking for another ale. What can I do to help you?”

“The girl who dances for you, the one from last night. Who is she?” Vakr asked.

“Hrefna? What do you want with her? She’s just a street-whore. She dances for next to nothing, to
advertise her other trade.”

“She seems to be a fairly fine völva for a street-whore,” Vakr said contemplatively. The barkeeper
probably couldn’t sense the mystical energies the girl raised while she danced, the wizard mused.
“Where did you meet her?”

“I told you Sire, on the street,” the barkeep answered. “All I really know is her name.”

“Fine then,” said Vakr, disgusted. He tossed a couple of coins to the barkeep and turned away. Vakr
doubted the barkeeper’s story. If Hrefna was merely an exotic dancer, the tale would have been
believable. Vakr knew a true völva when he saw one; a young woman trained as a child to create
magic from dance. The stage had practically glowed with mystical energies while she danced. Still,
he had to follow the trail of clues. Maybe the Thieves’ Guild would have more answers. If she was
truly a street-whore, she was one of theirs.

Vakr followed winding alleyways through the back streets of Fes. Already the sun was high and the
heat was beating down on the wizard mercilessly. Vakr was pleased that the entrance to the
Thieves’ Guild was down these somewhat cooler, shadowy alleys. He knew he was being watched
and possibly marked as prey, but as he was wearing his mantle of office, the cutpurses wouldn’t
approach him. He was on official guild business, or so they would believe.
 Ragnarok Usurped 4

The door to the Guild office was unmarked and resembled any other back alley door. It could
possibly be connected to a shop or inn on the main street. Vakr tapped out a complex pattern on the
door, and a voice from inside challenged him. “Who knocks?”

“Vakr, High Wizard of the Guild of Wizards, chapter representative of Fes!” he answered.

“Enter,” the voice replied. When Vakr opened the door, there was nobody to be seen. The wizard
shrugged, knowing the guard was somewhere in the shadows and walked down the hallway
towards the Guild Mistress’s office. He tried not to let his shoulder blades twitch, as Vakr knew one
wrong move would mean a knife planted between them. He was soon at the doorway to the
Mistress of the Guild of Thieves.

Kolgríma the Guild Mistress leaned back in her chair and let her black booted heels thump onto her
desk. She crossed her legs, revealing a tantalizing bit of bare thigh beneath her short shirt and
shifted the toothpick in her mouth from one side to the other. She took a long look at the high
wizard standing in front of her.

“Spill it, Vakr,” she finally said. “I know this isn’t official business. I would have heard from your
head chapter.”

Vakr sighed, grabbed a chair from the wall and dragged it over to the far side of Kolgríma’s desk. He
tried valiantly not to look at the long legs she presented him. “I’m trying to find some information
on a girl named Hrefna. She dances at the Spilled Urn. The barkeeper says she’s a whore.”

“Hrefna, eh?” the Master Thief asked. “I don’t recognize the name. MAYA!” Kolgríma yelled over her
shoulder to a woman in the room behind the desk. “Do we have a girl named Hrefna working the
streets near the Spilled Urn?”

“Not one of my girls,” a sultry voice answered. “Freelancer? Should we put the squeeze on her?”

“What does this Hrefna look like?” asked Kolgríma, turning back to the wizard. She pulled a long,
thin stiletto out of a hidden sheath in her boot and cleaned the grit from under her fingernails
nonchalantly.

“I won’t have you harm her, whether you’re Guild Mistress or not, Kolgríma,” warned Vakr.

Kolgríma grinned widely and spread her arms out in mock surrender. “Harm her? Never! She’s a
commodity! Why would I damage someone who could earn me money?”

“I’m beginning to think this girl is no whore at all. I think she’s something very different,” Vakr said
to himself under his breath.

“Well, if you see her again, tell her she needs to speak to Maya before plying her trade in Fes,”
Kolgríma informed the wizard. “You don’t want her to get hurt, and that’s the safest move for her to
make.”

Vakr stood, bowed stiffly to the Master Thief and made his way out of the Guild offices. The streets
of Fes were dusty as usual and wind was whipping the sand and grit up into miniature dust-devils.
They reminded Vakr of the Hrefna. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. The girl was after
 Ragnarok Usurped 5

something, and she wasn’t who she seemed. Vakr wasn’t ready to trust the völva yet, but he was
willing to hear what she wanted to tell him.
 Ragnarok Usurped 6

CHAPTER TWO

Day and night, the Äsvor automaton stood by the side of the main plaza of Fes, near the city’s
extravagant fountain. The device was shaped like a lovely lady wearing a perky, revealing uniform.
For all intents, she looked alive with smooth, flawless skin and flowing hair. Her arms, fingers, and
neck were articulated, so she could turn to face an approaching customer and hold out her hand for
payment. When the small bars of gold were placed in her hand, an internal scale weighed them, and
the automaton would place the money in the “pocket” of her apron. The coins would slide into the
internal safe of the device. The Äsvor automaton would thank the client and give a choice of cities.
Once the client spoke the name of the city he wanted to visit, a moment would pass, then a
shimmering portal would appear. The traveler would then be warped instantly to his city of choice.
First-time users of the Äsvor system usually found the trip disorienting, especially when leaving an
arid, hot city like Fes, and arriving in the cool green shade of a city like Sigvatr.

Vakr was quite used to the sensation of teleportation. Nonetheless, he shivered in the sudden cool
of the forest town. The wizard cast his glance around to orient himself. As usual, he had arrived
beside another automaton, so he could find his way back easily when he was ready to return home.
The streets of Sigvatr were merely cart-tracks ground into the mossy undergrowth. Huge, old-
growth trees created a cathedral ceiling over the entire town. The archers and hunters who made
Sigvatr their home chose to live with the forest, rather than pull it down around them to build their
town.

The Broken Arrow Inn was a lodge built from massive logs, neatly notched to fit tightly together.
The sign over the door had no lettering, just a brightly painted picture of an arrow, snapped in half.
Vakr opened the massive, oaken door to the inn and stepped inside. Mounted trophies hung on the
wall, staring blankly at the patrons drinking below them. A huge rack of antlers hung over the door.
When Vakr strode through the door, he didn’t see Hrefna at any of the tables. He cast his glance
around the room, but saw only archers and a couple of hunters with their falcons roosting restlessly
on the backs of their chairs.

A pretty barmaid approached Vakr and said, “Excuse me Sire? I believe your party is in the private
room, in the back.”

Startled, Vakr thanked the girl and went towards the back of the lodge. He pulled open the sliding
doors. Inside he saw a clown.

The clown was dressed in ragged, multi-coloured robes, and he had a wide-brimmed hat pulled
down over his eyes. In his hand he held a crystal ball, which he spun on his fingertips, and juggled
over his hand in smooth movements. His free hand tapped a lively rhythm on the wooden tabletop,
and he seemed to be humming to himself.

“I’m sorry,” started Vakr, “I must be in the wrong room...”

The clown sat back and tipped his hat back on his head to show his face. “No, you’re in the right
place Vakr. How have you been?”

“Tyrfingr? Freya’s tits! What are you doing here? I thought you were playing the skald down in
Stiklestad?” Vakr replied, astonished. A skald was a professional singer and storyteller. Quite often,
 Ragnarok Usurped 7

skalds would travel from town to town, bringing political gossip from afar. A true skald could also
create living energy from song and stories, and perform feats of magic, somewhat like a wizard.

The clown stood up and bowed flamboyantly. “I am no longer Tyrfingr, but Apple the Clown,
performer extraordinaire! I can amuse and amaze you!” He pulled several brightly coloured cloth
balls out of his pocket and juggled them expertly. “I can confound and confuse!” Miraculously, the
balls disappeared, seemingly while in flight. “And I still sing and play on occasion,” he admitted,
sitting back down.

Vakr sat down abruptly in one of the heavy, wooden chairs. “That’s an interesting change of
profession,” he replied. “But you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

“I invited you here!” Tyrfingr replied. “Didn’t you get my note?”

“I certainly gave it to him,” said a woman as she walked through a door in the back of the room. She
was wrapped in a heavy cloak, but Vakr recognized her walk.

“Hrefna!” he said, “I didn’t recognize you...”

“With my clothes on?” Hrefna asked sarcastically. She shrugged off the cloak and hung it on a hook
on the wall. She was wearing archer’s garb and a fine longbow was slung across her body. She wore
a quiver of arrows at her hip. Her red hair was tied in a long ponytail that streamed down her back.

“You seem to be a woman of many talents,” Vakr observed as the woman sat at the table with the
two men.

“Oh, more than you know,” she replied to him, winking seductively.

Vakr reluctantly turned back to Tyrfingr and asked, “So why all the sneaking around? Why do you
want me here?”

“Well,” drawled Tyrfingr, “The LAST time I asked you along on an adventure you were too busy with
studying, and you had a thousand excuses not to come along. That’s why THIS time, I made sure the
bait in the trap was sweeter.” He winked at Hrefna, who rolled her eyes at him.

Vakr turned to Hrefna and accused, “So you’re not really a völva? Tyrfingr sent you along just to
lure me into some stupid scheme of his?”

“Oh, I’m a völva,” Hrefna answered. “Do you think just any girl could dance like that? But why ELSE
would I be dancing in a dusty hole like Fes, if not to pique your interest enough to follow the note?”

Vakr hated being led around by the nose, but he was intrigued enough to want to know more. “So
the second part of my question: Why do you want me here?”

Tyrfingr looked at Vakr very seriously, all trace of humor gone from his face. “To save the world,
Vakr. To save the world.”

Vakr answered with silence. Finally he replied, “I KNEW you were going to say that.”

Tyrfingr laughed, long and hard, and even Hrefna grinned.

 Ragnarok Usurped 8

“So the three of us are out to save the world, are we?” Vakr asked. He grabbed a pitcher of dark ale
from the table and filled himself a mug of the frothy brew.

“Actually, there are five of us,” Hrefna answered. “The other two are in the courtyard... discussing
philosophy.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” muttered Tyrfingr.

Suddenly, the back door slammed open and a tall man in the robes of a high priest stormed into the
room. His dark, piercing eyes scanned the three at the table, stopping briefly on Vakr. His thick
eyebrows furrowed and he spat out, “FIRST you saddle me with that enigmatic idiot out there, NOW
you involve me with a practitioner of the Dark Arts? I swear Tyrfingr, I will walk away from all this
right now...”

Hrefna held up a delicate hand and said mildly, “Shut up Drengr, Your Eminence. You know we need
his skills.”

Drengr stood with his mouth half open, staring at the girl who dared interrupt him, and so rudely.

“I should have known I’d receive such flippancy from the likes of YOU,” he muttered finally. Hrefna
just smiled saucily at the high priest until he was forced to concede and look away.

The back door opened again, and smaller, bald man glided in. He wore the robes of a monk. He
nodded calmly to Drengr, who just frowned and looked away, then smiled in greeting to Vakr.

Tyrfingr introduced the two last members of their little band. “Vakr, this is high priest Drengr, on
loan to us from the Church of Björkö. The brother here is Galmann, a monk of Odin’s Order.”

“I think I need a little bit more information on exactly how we’re going to save the world now,
Tyrfingr,” Vakr replied. “What are we saving the world from?”

Drengr raised his eyebrows and answered for Tyrfingr. “We are oath-sworn to stop Ragnarok,” he
stated flatly.

Vakr had just been taking a swallow of ale when Drengr made his outrageous statement. He spat it
out across the table and started to laugh until he thought he was going to choke.

“Take a breath Vakr, he’s serious,” warned Tyrfingr.

The high priest looked absolutely furious at Vakr’s hilarity. “I am to assume then, that you think that
Ragnarok is not possible?”

“I’m a perpetual student, Your Eminence,” Vakr replied, wiping his eyes. “I’ve studied magic, I’ve
studied science, history and lore. And there is utterly NO evidence that your gods even exist, much
less plan to wage war on some mythical Giants. And even if they do, Ragnarok is supposed to
destroy VALHALLA, not Middle Earth, not Midgard.”

Drengr took a deep breath and turned away from the wizard to collect himself.
 Ragnarok Usurped 9

Galmann the Monk put a hand on the high priest’s shoulder and murmured, “Very good brother, let
yourself find peace.” Drengr angrily pushed the monk’s hand away.

Brother Galmann addressed Vakr. “Wizard, you find it difficult to believe that the gods exist, yet you
play with powers that no mere human could possibly develop without the aid of those very gods.
You control earth, air, fire and water, yet you think those powers come from within YOU? Oh, the
gods are real my friend, and their fight is our fight. If the Giants destroy Valhalla, why would they
not send their monsters here to destroy us as well, the creations of those gods?” Galmann smiled
peacefully, then sat at the table with the rest of the group.

“Monsters...” scoffed Vakr.

Tyrfingr held up a warning hand. “Don’t laugh Vakr. It’s already beginning. Tell him Hrefna.”

“You don’t get out in the real world much, do you Vakr?” she observed. “The wildlife of our world is
... changing. Many young archers are finding creatures in the woods that no one has ever seen
before.”

“Well,” started Vakr, “I’m sure that a bunch of scared kids might think a wolf was a monster.”

“I’m not talking about wolves,” Hrefna interrupted him. “I’m talking about plants that are coming to
life and attacking without provocation. Trees that walk, mushrooms that spit poisonous spores,
immense insects that are utterly deadly...”

Vakr shoved his chair back and stood up abruptly. “I won’t listen to any more. The whole idea is so
utterly STUPID. You had your laugh at my expense. I’m going back to Fes.”

Hrefna stood as well and came around the heavy wooden table to Vakr. She put a hand on his wrist
and held him gently. “Home to what, Vakr? There’s nothing there for you. Just more books and
meaningless experiments the Wizard’s Guild sets on you. Join us and see. Believe it or don’t, but
Vakr...” She looked him in the eyes and trapped him there again. “It’s real. We need you. Please.”

Vakr took hold of Hrefna’s hand and removed it from his wrist. He looked away from her with some
difficulty and said, “I’ll go. If only to be the voice of reason. You are all crazy, you know.”

Tyrfingr laughed and stood up. “You won’t hear ME arguing that point. Come on everyone, let’s get
geared up and head out.”

The band of adventurers had stashed their supplies in a common sleeping area in the inn. Although
they could travel by Äsvor network to the major cities, the clues they were after would be in far
more remote locations. They had backpacks, rucksacks, sleeping rolls and changes of clothes.
Tyrfingr surprised Vakr with a gift.

“I got it down in Kilwa. Most of the people there don’t speak our language, but I managed to
communicate with the chief and tell him about our journey. He asked if we had a shaman; I assumed
he meant wizard, and told him we did. So he gave this to me for you to use.” It was a long, gnarled
staff, grey with age and polished with the sweat of the hands of many a magic user. When Vakr took
the staff in his hand, he felt the power inside it.
 Ragnarok Usurped 10

“I hope I have a chance to thank the chief some day,” he said. “This is a fantastic tool. But you were
pretty confident you could convince me to join you,” the wizard told his friend.

“No, I was confident that Hrefna could convince you. She’s far prettier than I am.”

All the members of the party had weapons that gave off a faint aura of containing magic. Vakr was
reassured that he wasn’t going to be travelling with a bunch of inexperienced adventurers. Of them
all, he had likely seen the least amount of combat. Vakr’s training and elevation exams had been
grueling and dangerous but short of a couple of scuffles with thieves, Vakr had never needed to
defend himself. The wizard realized, as he repacked his backpack, that he had never spent very
much time with other people, not even at the wizard Academy. This whole trip would be another
learning experience. Putting it in those terms in his mind calmed him greatly.

“Have you found your center then, Brother?” Galmann asked him. The monk had put on his
travelling robes, and was fitting something that looked like corks into his ears.

“Excuse me, Brother Galmann,” Vakr asked. “But what are you wearing in your ears?”

“Earplugs,” Galmann replied. “They allow me to be closer to the gods.” Then he winked and
whispered to Vakr, “Actually, they block out a lot of noise and let me concentrate when Drengr
starts preaching. That man can drive anyone crazy after a couple of minutes of sermonizing!”

Vakr laughed in surprise and decided that this trip might not be so bad after all.
 Ragnarok Usurped 11

CHAPTER THREE

Tyrfingr hired a pemino-drawn coach to take them to the first stop in their journey. A stoic hunter
drove the team. He barely talked to the travelers, simply grunting agreement when needed. Walking
would have added days to their trip and exhausted the group. The roads through the forest were
pathetic, and the coach’s bench seats were uncomfortable. The travelers had some small comfort in
the fact that the coach was covered and kept the weather off of them.

Drengr and Galmann sat on one bench across from Tyrfingr and Vakr. Hrefna had comfortably
squeezed herself between the skald and the wizard. Vakr found her proximity very distracting.

The companions chatted during the bone-jarring ride through the forest to distract themselves
from their discomfort.

Galmann asked the wizard, “Where did you meet Tyrfingr? You obviously know each other from
somewhere.”

Tyrfingr, being the professional storyteller, told the tale. Vakr interjected with his view of some of
the events occasionally.

“It’s really our mothers’ fault,” Tyrfingr began. “They thought it would be good for us to get to know
each other. Really, I think they just wanted us out from underfoot, and Vakr and I were exceedingly
good at entertaining each other.”

“How long have you known each other?” Hrefna asked, amused.

“Oh, I don’t know, since we were four or five? This was back when we both lived in Björkö. We
managed to get into so much trouble together!”

Vakr chuckled, reminiscing. “Remember the time we stole those apples?”

Tyrfingr laughed his booming laugh. “Oh, I remember. We snatched a few apples off that cart, and
the vendor would never have noticed if the whole stock hadn’t fallen and gone rolling out in the
street…”

“Which kept his attention long enough for us to RUN…” Vakr was laughing out loud.

“Oh we were sure we were going to get our asses tanned,” Tyrfingr continued. “We ran until we
couldn’t breathe and wound up in a part of the city we didn’t know, near the gates. We were scared,
dirty and exhausted. We huddled behind some old building, with our booty of four whole apples,
and Vakr here looks at me all upset and said ‘Does this mean we’re gonna grow up to be THIEVES?’”

Even Father Drengr was smiling by now, listening to the story.

“So I told him, ‘Well, if it does mean we’re going to grow up to be thieves… we aren’t going to be
very GOOD thieves!’”

“… They were the best tasting apples I ever ate,” Vakr finished with a grin.
 Ragnarok Usurped 12

“Well I, for one, am glad you gave up your life of crime,” Brother Galmann told the two. “We would
be penniless by now, bailing the two of you out of jail.”

“So how did you part ways and follow such different paths?” asked the Drengr. “It’s rare to see a
wizard and a skald together.”

“Oh, the way it always works,” Tyrfingr smiled sadly. “It had to do with a woman.”

“I was sure she was the one,” Vakr said softly, closing his eyes to remember her face. “Tyrfingr and I
were going to go to Sigvatr together to study archery… we HAD decided thieving wasn’t for us. But
there was this girl who lived on our street. Blonde hair, eyes like the deepest, bluest night sky…”

“Hey, hold on a second, I’M the skald here, I’m supposed to be the one who gets all poetic over
women,” teased Tyrfingr. “The long and the short of it was that this girl decided she was going to
the Mage Academy in Oslo, and nothing I could do would persuade this love-sick pup here to stay
with me. He followed her, panting, to Oslo. He found his calling too, it seems. I doubt he’d ever make
it as a skald. I’m fairly sure he’s utterly tone-deaf.”

“I can sing for my supper if I have to,” Vakr replied huffily.

“Well, you better start singing,” Hrefna told him. “It’s getting late and it’s time to make camp.”

So while the travelers and their driver made camp that evening, Vakr taught them all a bawdy song
he learned in Oslo about a Mage, a milkmaid and her goat. By the end of supper, even the priest and
the monk were joining in the chorus.

Galmann told his story after supper while they sat around the fire. He had been involved with the
church for as long as he could remember. His parents had sent him to be trained by the monks
when he was very young. They didn’t send him away because they couldn’t afford to keep him, like
many poor families did. His parents sent him to the monastery because they were afraid of him.

Brother Galmann explained that at the age of three, he had permanently crippled a boy he had been
playing with because the boy refused to share a toy that Galmann had wanted. He had broken the
child’s leg so badly that it never healed properly and the boy grew up relying on two canes to walk.
The Brother didn’t look angry, happy or even remorseful as he told this tale. He told the story like it
was about someone else. In a way, it was. Brother Galmann remembered nothing about that
incident, or any of the others that followed it.

“I only know that story,” he explained, “because one of the Brothers told it to me. There were
rumors that I killed someone before I was five, but nobody has ever proven or disproven it.”

“Is it… berserker rage?” Hrefna asked quietly.

Brother Galmann shrugged. “It could be, and if my parents had sent me to learn with the Order of
Knights, I would be a very different person than I am today.”

Tyrfingr looked at Galmann seriously. “What did they teach you at the monastery?” he asked. “You
seem to be so in control of yourself.”

“They taught me to laugh,” Galmann smiled.

 Ragnarok Usurped 13

Father Drengr looked suitably horrified. “The Mother Church is no laughing matter!”

“Father, you followed a different path of the Church than I did. You see the seriousness of Ragnarok
approaching. You know Odin as the One-Eyed God. I know him as the All-Father. I also know that
Loki, the Eternal Trickster is his blood brother. If that isn’t funny, then nothing is.”

The high priest looked like he wanted to say more, but held his tongue.

“Did you lose the battle-rage then?” asked Vakr.

Galmann looked at him in surprise. “Oh no, not at all. I was simply taught to channel it. Monks are
taught martial arts and the way of the fist. But we try to mediate FIRST. When the time for
negotiation is over, then sometimes you have to convince people by knocking their heads together!”

Tyrfingr laughed his infectious laugh. “I think perhaps you’d better start planning on doing some
head-knocking then, Brother. Because I really don’t know how well negotiations with the Giants will
go!”

Drengr didn’t talk about himself. He listened to the other’s stories, and occasionally added in a bit of
information on where they were headed currently. He gave everyone the impression he was
holding himself aloof from them. However, Tyrfingr had a bit of background on the high priest
which he shared in hushed whispers with the others.

“I know he seems like a religious zealot, but if there’s anyone in Midgard that deserves to be a little
crazed about the gods, it’s him,” Tyrfingr started. “See, he’s MET the One-Eyed God.”

Hrefna looked at the skald with a look of disbelief on her face. Vakr openly laughed. Brother
Galmann just nodded in agreement. “It’s true,” he added. “My whole Order knows the story.”

Tyrfingr deferred to the Monk who took up the tale. “Drengr was young, in his teens. At the time, I
don’t believe he had any interest in the Church. He wanted to be a great Knight of the Realm. He was
proud and dangerous.

“He was in the forest near a small town named Ekerö, training and hunting when he came across an
old man sitting near the edge of the road. The man was wearing rags and a battered wide-brimmed
hat. He also had an eye patch over one eye. Something drew the young man to the old beggar, and
before young Drengr could even greet him, the old man spoke, it is said, directly into his heart.

“’Put down your sword, my son,’ Odin said to the boy. ‘You are to be my general in the upcoming
fight. Your weapon will have no use there. Your words and your conviction will be the only sword
you need.’

“Well, Drengr stood there as if stunned, and dropped his sword. The man vanished before his eyes.
When the boy finally made it home, it was days before he could speak. He had truly been touched by
a god. He informed his parents he was going to Björkö to join the Church. They begged him not to
leave, but he couldn’t be persuaded to stay.

“When he arrived at Björkö and presented himself before the priests, they could all see that he was
god-touched. They asked him his name and he told them he was Drengr. He had renounced his
 Ragnarok Usurped 14

earlier life and given himself totally to the Church. He studied with fervor and rose in the ranks of
the Church quickly.

“A few scant months ago, while on a mission to preach to some outlying towns, Drengr met the
same beggar man on the road. This time, Odin had more frightening news to tell him. He told Father
Drengr that Ragnarok was fast approaching and it was time for the high priest to make ready his
army. The god told the priest he had to find signs of the coming war to prove it was truly happening,
because although the high priest believed, few others could pull themselves away from their
everyday lives to see the truth. He also told Drengr that Valhalla would surely fall, but the gods
wanted Midgard to survive the turmoil.

“So you see, this is the reason the high priest is so zealous. He KNOWS the gods are real. And he
knows, from their own mouths, that they expect to die very soon. And it is tearing him to pieces to
know that he cannot save them. So Drengr has been going to every town he can possibly conceive of
having old tomes and clues in hopes of postponing Ragnarok, and saving his beloved gods. As
WELL, he has been trying to prove that Ragnarok is indeed coming. Without the help of the people
of Midgard, we will also be destroyed.”

Rain drummed on the roof of the carriage, as the two strong peminos hauled it through the thick
mud on the road. The driver had his cloak pulled tight around him, and his companion falcon
perched on the backrest of the driver’s seat, looking wretched and dejected.

The travelers had been playing a word-game, but had grown bored with it. “So what’s your story
Hrefna?” asked Vakr. “How did you get involved with all this?”

Hrefna grinned at him. “No idea!” she said.

“What do you mean, ‘No idea’?” he cajoled. “We all told you OUR stories…”

“No, I’m serious,” she insisted. “I have no idea. Tyrfingr there found me in the middle of Sigvatr
woods one day. I had a serious head-wound and was unconscious. I don’t remember anything at
all.”

“Really?” Vakr turned and asked Tyrfingr.

“On my honor,” Tyrfingr replied, putting a hand over his heart theatrically. “I was out for a stroll,
looking for some musical inspiration, and here was this pretty girl wearing a beautiful white gown
which is spattered in blood. Her hair’s all done up like she was at some party, but it was all matted
and she was bleeding everywhere. So of course, I take her back to Sigvatr and have the priests look
at her. They did some healing, and took care of her, but she couldn’t remember a damned thing
except her own name.”

“How long ago was this?” Vakr asked.

Hrefna shrugged. “About two months before I first started dancing for you in Fes.”

“WHAT?” Vakr said, shocked. “You learned to dance like that in two months?”
 Ragnarok Usurped 15

“Well, no,” Tyrfingr broke in. “That’s the really funny part. She just took dancing like she’d always
done it. The priests figure she probably was a völva before her accident and her body remembers
what her mind doesn’t.”

“But,” said Hrefna, with an air of mystery in her voice, “No one at Sigvatr knew me. Tyrfingr and I
went to Stiklestad as well, and the story was the same. None of the instructors, not even the Matron
of Völvas, recognized me. I’m not in any of the student log books at the Academy. I’m nobody.”

“But surely there’s someone, somewhere, looking for you?” asked Vakr, concerned.

“If there is,” the girl replied, “We haven’t met him yet. The priesthood sent messages concerning me,
and nobody had heard of a missing red-headed völva. Every city in Midgard was alerted. Nobody
ever came for me.” Her eyes glittered for a second with what looked like tears, but she blinked
quickly, and looked at Tyrfingr. She smiled. “This big ape ‘adopted’ me and has been keeping me
with him ever since. I love to dance with his music. When he asked me to recruit you in Fes, I
couldn’t say no.”

“And you looked hilarious that last night,” said Tyrfingr, “standing there with your jaw on the floor
and randy enough for the whole bar to see.”

“How would YOU know?” muttered Vakr.

“Who do you think was playing the drum?” Tyrfingr replied, grinning.

Late that afternoon, the rain had blown over and the ground dried quickly in the bright sunshine.
The driver’s falcon looked far more comfortable, at the very least. The travelers had set up camp in
a cozy clearing, and had eaten some fresh rabbit that Hrefna had brought down with her arrows.
“Maybe it’s time to give me a little more information on where we’re going and what exactly we’re
supposed to be up against,” Vakr said, later that evening. The campfire was burning brightly, and
the night was cool and pleasant. Everyone had eaten their fill, but nobody was quite ready to turn in
yet.

“Would either of you men of the Church like to tell the story?” Tyrfingr asked.

“You tell it Tyrfingr,” Galmann said. “You’re the wordsmith. I’m sure if you get the details wrong, the
good Father or I can correct you.”

“I’ll do my best,” replied Tyrfingr. “In the beginning of all there is, there were no nine worlds, only
Niflheim, which was a world of ice, and Muspelheim, a world of fire. When the heat of Muspelheim
warmed Niflheim, the Frost Giant Ymir and the great cow Audhumla were created.

“The stories say that from Ymir’s body sprang the Jotun, the Giants. Audhumla created the first God,
Buri, by licking the salty stones of Niflheim until he sprang fully from the ice. Buri was the father of
the first gods, Odin, Vili and Ve.

“While the gods grew to adulthood, Ymir’s children multiplied. But the gods felt that Ymir the Frost
Giant was evil, and when they were strong enough, they slew him. Ever since that day, the gods and
the Jotun have been at war.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 16

“I know this part of the story,” interrupted Vakr. “Ymir’s body was supposed to have created the
other seven worlds, Asgard, the gods’ world, Midgard, the human’s world, Hel, the land of the dead,
Alfheim, the land of the elves, Vanaheim, the world of the gods of nature, Svartalfheim, the dark
elves’ land, and Jotunheim, the land of the giants. And all the nine worlds including Niflheim and
Muspelheim are connected by Yggdrasil, the World Tree.”

“Very good,” Tyrfingr replied dryly, “You can read. Now let me continue. Something that may NOT
have been written in your textbooks is that the gods and the Jotun may have always been at war,
but they frequently took wives and husbands from each others’ tribes. On one occasion, Odin
became blood-brother with Loki, son of Giants. Loki was a vicious trickster. Many of the most
horrible events that happened to the gods in their long history were Loki’s doing. But he was
charismatic and could wheedle his way out of almost everything.

“The only thing Loki couldn’t worm his way out of was causing the death of Baldur, Odin’s favorite
son. The prophetesses called the Norns had told Odin that Baldur would die. Everyone loved Baldur,
except for Loki, who was jealous of Odin’s love for his son. Baldur’s mother had begged every
creature and plant in the world to refuse to let Baldur die, and all agreed, except the mistletoe.
When Loki heard that news, he made a spear of mistletoe and tricked Baldur’s twin brother, Blind
Hod into throwing it at the young god. The spear pierced Baldur’s heart and he died.

“Loki was bound in a cavern beneath the earth. He was bound in the entrails of his young son. A
poisonous serpent was set over Loki and its venom drips down into Loki’s face. Loki’s wife tends
him there, in the caverns, holding a bowl over him to catch the venom. But when the bowl is full, she
must go to the edge of the chasm to empty out the poison, and the venom falls into Loki’s eyes.
That’s when the earth tremors as the great Trickster god writhes in pain.”

Father Drengr took over the tale from there. “Ragnarok will be the end of all things, wizard. Loki
will free himself, and he and his monstrous children will go to Jotunheim. They will recruit the
Giants to their side and wage the final war with the Aesir gods. All members of the nine worlds will
choose the sides on which to fight, but all will perish. None will survive. Muspelheim will burn the
nine worlds into a cinder, and the sun and the moon will wink out. Was that written in your
textbooks?”

“How do the Aesir gods know this?” asked Vakr.

“The Norns, the Spinners of Fate,” answered Galmann. “They know all that was, is and will be. And
they have told Odin and the Aesir gods of their own fates. And the gods are now asking us to choose
sides.”

“But…” began Vakr, “If everyone is supposed to die, if everything is supposed to be destroyed, then
does it matter if we choose sides, or if we fight at all?”

“Maybe,” Hrefna answered quietly, “if we choose now, and do exactly what we’re planning, we can
at least prevent the end times for many, many years to come.”

“Well, what exactly ARE we planning,” asked Vakr again. “You haven’t really told me yet.”

“We’re going to Yggdrasil,” replied Tyrfingr. “We’re going to the World Tree, to rally each race to the
side of the Aesir. We’re going to convince the Jotun not to fight us, because we will have the
 Ragnarok Usurped 17

overwhelming force. We’re negotiating allies for the upcoming battle, in the hopes the battle will
never be fought.”

Vakr shook his head. “I’m a wizard, not a diplomat,” he said wearily.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” answered Tyrfingr jovially. “If I can’t convince them with fancy words, you
can blast them with magic to convince them of the truth!”

“And if that fails,” Hrefna added, “I’ll just seduce them all. If they’re anything like YOU, they’ll all
follow me anywhere!”
 Ragnarok Usurped 18

CHAPTER FOUR

Vakr woke that night to the sound of sobbing. He sat upright quickly, looking around the campsite.
The dull glow of the coals in the fire pit showed the sleeping forms of his companions. Galmann was
on watch and was patrolling somewhere nearby.

“Go back to sleep Vakr,” Tyrfingr told him in hushed tones. “It’s Hrefna, she gets nightmares
sometimes.”

“Hrefna?” Vakr asked quietly. “Are you ok?”

The völva mumbled a few incoherent words, then sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. “No! Don’t do it!
Stop, please stop!” she screamed.

That outburst was enough to wake Father Drengr as well. He stared at the girl, who was covering
her head with her hands, like she was protecting herself.

“Why doesn’t somebody wake her?” he asked.

“I tried that once,” explained Tyrfingr. “It just disorients her for hours. She needs to work it through.
She won’t even remember it in the morning.”

Vakr crawled out of his sleeping roll and touched Hrefna on the arm. “What’s happening Hrefna?
What do you see?”

“He’ll kill us all! He’ll kill us all! Can’t you see?” she turned her blind, staring eyes to Vakr. “Look
out!” The völva grabbed hold of the wizard and pulled him roughly down to the ground. Vakr heard
the whiz of an arrow passing through the air his body had recently occupied. It hit the dirt beyond
them with a thud.

“Oh SHIT,” Tyrfingr cried out, scrambling out of his blankets. Brother Galmann came running into
the clearing, yelling “Orcs!”

“Thanks for the timely update Galmann,” Tyrfingr snarled, grabbing for his guitar.

Drengr was already on his feet, mumbling a prayer. He passed his hands back and forth in a
mystical pattern. Another arrow launched into the campsite, but bounced harmlessly off the
invisible barrier the priest’s prayer had created around them.

Hrefna was on one knee, bow in hand, calmly launching arrow after arrow into the trees. Vakr
wasn’t even sure if she was awake yet. He grabbed hold of the staff that Tyrfingr had given him and
hauled himself to his feet.

He couldn’t see his targets, so decided to send a volley of lightning bolts into the trees around them,
in the direction of the arrow launch. Drawing upon the energy of the air around him, he willed the
lightning into being, and released it with a gesture. As the small bolts rained down, he heard
guttural screams from the trees. The wizard smiled grimly, and prepared another blast.

Galmann was grinning maniacally as he stalked towards to trees in the opposite direction, ready to
rain his particular brand of violence down on the orcs. “They’re surrounding us,” he mentioned
 Ragnarok Usurped 19

calmly, as he met a huge, green, hulking brute at the edge of the clearing. Vakr never saw anyone
move so fast; his eyes could barely register that Galmann’s hands and feet were moving, but the orc
in front of him was already on the ground, eyes rolled back into his head, and neck broken.

Father Drengr recited another prayer, firmly and with resolution. Vakr could feel his mana, his
magic force, strengthening. He turned to his left and sent a couple fire bolts into an approaching orc,
felling him into a stinking pile of smoldering green flesh.

Tyrfingr’s fingers danced over the strings of his guitar in a frenzied tune. In a moment, a volley of
arrows that glowed in the night appeared from nowhere and fell into the trees, causing the orcs still
within the trees to scream again.

“Retreat!” a gravelly voice called out, and the party heard a few more heavy bodies crash through
the trees away from them.

“They SPEAK?” Vakr cried out, amazed.

Tyrfingr let his guitar lower by his side and cracked his knuckles. “They’re intelligent. Those are
orcs. Welcome to your first brush with monsters Vakr.”

“We can’t stay here, they know we’re here,” Hrefna said in a strange voice. Vakr realized she was
still asleep. Regardless, her advice was correct. It was close enough to dawn that a bit of light was
showing through the trees, so the men started gathering their belongings. In a few minutes, Hrefna
blinked a couple of times, and looked around her. She noticed her bow in her hands.

“Did I miss all the fun?” she asked, in her own, daylight-voice.

The adventurers eventually arrived at the next town on their quest for information, Drengr’s
hometown of Ekerö. The party thanked the hunter, and paid him well. He merely grunted and
headed to the pub to find a drink and a return customer.

The Temple to Odin was on a nearby island. Drengar and Brother Galmann wanted to check the
history books and scrolls to see if there was any lore they were currently missing.

“Freya’s TITS! What’s THAT thing?” asked Vakr, amazed. He was pointing at an immense oval
structure that seemed to be hovering over the ground, with what looked to be a full ship’s deck
hanging below it.

“You really DON’T get out much, do you?” asked Tyrfingr. “That’s one of the new airships. They
travel between Ekerö, Manaw, and Vinheidr. It floats, and is directed by those propellers on the
back of the ship.”

Fascinated, Vakr walked around the immense ship, studying how it was put together. “It’s fantastic!
But why aren’t the Äsvor working out here?”

Tyrfingr made a face. “Politics. Contracts. Government regulations. The airship is slower, it’s prone
to attack by flying monsters… oh yes, there are monsters that fly too… Though I admit, it’s a much
more scenic method of travel. Just remember, we’re not in our home province any more. This place
is governed totally differently, and the people here are more industrialized.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 20

“Weren’t the Äsvor automatons invented around here?” Vakr asked.

“Not in Ekerö, no. This is a simple town. Their specialty is mostly farming, milk production, and
fireworks.”

Hrefna’s eyes sparkled at the mention of fireworks. “Will you buy some Tyrfingr? Please?”

“Do you think Apple the Clown goes ANYWHERE without fireworks?” Tyrfingr drew himself up, and
pretended to be offended.

“It’s good to know that gunpowder is used for more than just weapons,” muttered Vakr. Like many
traditionalists, Vakr hated guns. It seemed to go against his world-view to have such deadly
machines in the hands of even deadlier gunfighters. It never occurred to him to consider himself
just as deadly, with his control over the elements.

Hrefna sat down under a wide-spread shade tree and leaned her back against the trunk. “How long
do you think Drengr and Galmann will be on the island?”

“Who knows?” shrugged the skald. “It will take as long as it takes. Why don’t we take Vakr for a look
around town?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing the fireworks store,” Vakr admitted, almost shyly.

Ekerö was as different from Fes as was possibly imaginable. Fes was a city of sand and stone, with
cool water fountains and narrow, winding streets. Ekerö was surrounded by beautiful old-growth
trees, and had many brightly-flowered parks. There was a large, cobble-stoned plaza in the middle
of the town where the trio sat and had drinks under huge parasols. They dug through their treasure
of fireworks like little kids, and couldn’t wait until nightfall to set some of them off.

It was getting near dusk when Father Drengr and Brother Galmann returned wearily from Odin’s
Temple.

As they all sat around one of the tables in the plaza, Drengr explained their situation a little more.
“We should be able to deal with the Nature gods and the Elves,” he explained. “They usually side
with the Aesir. Our issues will be with the Dark Elves and the Dead.”

“Dead?” asked Vakr. “I fail to see how they’ll be a problem.”

“You read the texts but you don’t understand them, wizard. Hel is ruler of the Dead. She is also one
of Loki’s children. You think of the Dead as… dead; moldering in their graves. But they live on
wizard, they live on. And if they are commanded to fight against us, they will do so. Hel holds
dominion over them and will fight on her father’s side,” explained Drengr.

“On a positive note,” added Galmann, “Not all the dead wind up with Hel. The heroes, those that died
in battle, are in Odin’s Hall of Valhalla. They will fight with us.”

“And of course, the one thing you’re not mentioning,” Hrefna added gravely, “Is that not all the men
and women of Midgard will side with the Aesir either.”

Drengr looked at her, aghast. “Why would they NOT?”

 Ragnarok Usurped 21

Hrefna smiled sadly. “You are a good man, Father. You believe that all men are good, like you. But
they aren’t. Men are greedy and some are truly evil. I believe that many men and women will fight
on Loki’s side.”

“But … then they’ll all die!” Drengr exploded.

Hrefna shook her head. “Evil men don’t think very far into the future. They think about NOW. They
think about their wealth and what’s in it for THEM. Some of them believe themselves to be
invulnerable. We will be fighting against our own brothers and sisters in this war.” Her eyes got a
hollow, distant look to them.

“Then let’s try to have as few of our brothers and sisters as possible on the opposing side,” Tyrfingr
said. “It’s time to start truly gathering our forces.”

Drengr nodded. “Then our next stop will be Yggdrasil.”

Vakr tossed and turned on the soft inn bed. So many nights of sleeping in a bedroll by a campfire…
he couldn’t find comfort in the softness of the mattress. It didn’t help that his dreams were filled
with visions of giants, dark elves and walking dead. He went to roll over again, when he felt strong
fingers grip his hair, and the keen edge of a blade against his throat.

“Don’t move wizard, don’t cry out, or you’ll be dead in a second,” a voice said in the darkness.

“Who… what…” Vakr tried to ask, calming himself.

“Shh,” the voice hissed again. “Answers soon enough. I don’t want to wake the rest… yet. Get up.”

Vakr fumbled himself out of his blanket, and invisible hands took hold of his arm and steered him
out of the room. The knife, thankfully, no longer pressed itself into his neck. Vakr’s assailant was
behind him, so even in the sparsely-lit hallway, he couldn’t tell who had him. Common sense told
the wizard if he were meant to be dead, he’d already be that way.

Vakr’s captor ushered him out into the quiet midnight streets of Ekerö. Lamplight guttered here and
there along the cobblestone square, but nobody was about. The night was beautiful, cloudless and
full of stars.

“Promise me no magic, and I’ll leave you unbound while we chat,” the assailant told him. Vakr
nodded tightly. They were walking cautiously down to Ekerö’s sandy beach. Across the water, Vakr
could see the bright torchlight that kept Odin’s Temple lit throughout the night. The lights reflected
on the water and danced.

“Sit,” a feminine voice said courteously. Vakr settled himself onto the sand, and finally looked at his
kidnapper.

“Kolgríma?” Vakr said incredulously. “What in Niflheim are YOU doing here?”

The thief stayed standing, her long stiletto still in her hand. She looked beautiful in the moonlight,
as though she were part of the night. Her long black hair was braided back, and her working clothes
 Ragnarok Usurped 22

of black leather shone in the half-light. “We have a problem. Or I should say, YOU and your friends
have a problem. I have been offered a very large sum of money to make sure that none of you wake
up tonight.”

She seemed to think about it for a second, and then slid the stiletto into a sheath in one thigh-high
leather boot. “However, I find myself… curious. And I have discovered that I like information more
than money.” She grinned, and looked, if possible, even more beautiful. She crouched down beside
the wizard gracefully.

“What are you five doing, that someone might send me all the way to this godsforsaken burg to
assassinate you?” she asked.

Vakr brushed a weary hand over his face, shuddering as the adrenalin seeped out of his body. “You
wouldn’t believe it if I told you, Kolgríma.”

“Try me,” she smiled, and flicked a toothpick out of her pouch so she could chew it.

Vakr recounted the plans they had made, and the reasons for them. He tried to be as factual as he
could, but since he couldn’t believe half of what he was saying, he found the whole thing difficult.

Kolgríma, on the other hand, just nodded and listened, and asked a probing question every now and
again.

When Vakr had finally finished his story, Kolgríma heaved a sigh. “That actually meshes very neatly
with what my informants have been telling me.”

Vakr’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding me,” he said.

“No,” Kolgríma replied seriously. “There is something big in the offing. Factions are gathering. I
don’t even know if they’re aware of WHY, but it’s happening. Greedy, ambitious men and women
are gathering small armies around them, for what reason I doubt they even know. But there have
been whispers… whispers of great wealth and power to those that will fight against the Churches.”

“…Kolgríma,” Vakr began carefully, “wouldn’t YOU…”

Kolgríma laughed a hearty, friendly sound. “Not me, wizard, not me. I was brought up by the Sisters
of the Church. They loved me and cared for me. They weren’t thrilled by my choice of friends, or my
chosen career… but they still loved me regardless. I’m no enemy of the Church… in fact, a portion of
my income goes to the Sisters who still take in orphans.”

“The Noble Thief,” smiled Vakr.

Kolgríma grinned again, but this time her grin was much more feral. “No, the Noble Assassin.
Because the gods know there are those out there who truly deserve to die. And I’m not afraid to be
the death-dealer when necessary.”

Vakr nodded somberly. “Then why NOT kill us?” he asked.

 Ragnarok Usurped 23

Kolgríma shrugged. “I couldn’t figure out why someone would want a monk and a high priest dead,”
she answered. “And when I found out YOU were in their company, I knew there was something
wrong.”

“Me?” Vakr asked. “You barely know anything about me!”

“Good gods, Vakr,” Kolgríma replied. “You lived in MY city for what, two years? I know more about
you than YOU do. My BUSINESS is information. I even know why you left Oslo and that pretty
blonde girl!”

If the light had been stronger, Vakr’s blush would have been evident. But then a thought occurred to
him.

“If you know so much about Fes… why didn’t you know about Hrefna?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Oh, I know a lot about your little red-headed girlfriend,” Kolgríma said smugly. “But a girl has to
keep SOME secrets, doesn’t she?”

Vakr tried to badger Kolgríma into telling him more about Hrefna, but she just laughed and ignored
his questions. It didn’t take long for her mood to change again, however.

Serious now, she looked at the wizard. “We need to wake your friends and get all of you out of here,
before daybreak. When my employers realize the job isn’t done, they’ll send along an Assassin with
fewer scruples than I have.”

“Damn, I hadn’t thought of that,” Vakr admitted. “Let’s go get Tyrfingr and the rest.”

Vakr carefully woke the sleeping crew, so they wouldn’t be startled. In hushed voices, he convinced
them all to assemble with their gear on the cobbled plaza, well before dawn.

“Kolla!” Tyrfingr said, and opened his arms for a hug. The Assassin grinned broadly and wrapped
herself around the skald.

“Freya’s TITS,” Vakr growled, “Do you know EVERYONE Tyrfingr?”

“What can I say?” the skald grinned. “I get around.” He kissed Kolgríma on the top of her head and
peeled her off of him. “Well, seeing that you’re here little girl, I assume we’re in trouble?”

“The worst kind of trouble,” Kolgríma agreed, nodding.

“Then it’s begun,” said Drengr, “Like you said, Hrefna.”

Hrefna nodded sadly. “It’s time to move on. Our opponents know where we are. We can’t let them
keep that knowledge.”

“The faster we can get to the World Tree, the safer we’ll be,” said Galmann. “The Guardians won’t let
just anyone in.”

“What are our travel options?” Tyrfingr asked Kolgríma.

“Walking. There are spies watching the Äsvor and the airship,” she responded.
 Ragnarok Usurped 24

“Well, how did they know we were here?” asked Vakr. “We rode in a covered carriage most of the
way from Sigvatr!”

“…the orcs?” guessed Father Drengr.

Kolgríma nodded tightly. “Yes, our opponents are in league with many of the more intelligent
monsters.”

“OUR opponents?” asked Tyrfingr lightly.

Kolgríma grinned. “You think I was sitting this one out? There’s too much fun to be had!”

“It will be good to have another woman along,” Hrefna confided to Kolgríma in a stage-whisper.
“After a while, the men begin to get… boring.”

“Not too surprising,” Kolgríma replied. “All they think about is eating, sleeping, fighting and
screwing… begging the Father and Brother’s forgiveness.” She winked at Brother Galmann, who
winked back, grinning.

Kolgríma linked arms with the völva, and told her, “Not that I am above thinking of screwing
myself… just not all the time!”

“Of course not all the time,” Hrefna agreed. “Occasionally, one MUST think about… SHOPPING.”

Vakr stared, curious, as Tyrfingr repeatedly banged his head against a tree trunk, until it was time
to go.

The slightly-larger party made good time. They avoided the main roads, camped as much as
possible and were blessed with good weather. They still had a very long way to travel, however.

“I need to make a stop at Manaw,” Tyrfingr told them. “I need to pick something up there.”

Drengr looked somewhat exasperated. “We really need to get to Yggdrasil as soon as possible, skald.
Can it not wait until we’re closer?”

“No, I won’t be able to find this anywhere but Manaw. Please. I’ll just pop in and meet you on the
road to Bretland. You won’t even miss me.” He seemed to be very agitated, so Drengr dropped the
argument and nodded.

The adventurers skirted under the flying city of Manaw, held aloft by a mix of magic and mechanics,
while Tyrfingr excitedly headed towards the city. It was an awesome sight, staring up at the
underside of the massive city. It blocked out the light of the sun, and the land underneath it was in
perpetual twilight. The city actually moved slowly in a circular route to keep the farmland below
from dying off due to the lack of sunlight. The only way to reach Manaw was by magic or airship. No
one knew which method Tyrfingr was planning to use. Vakr and Hrefna speculated about what the
skald could be getting in the city, while the group continued the long trek towards Bretland, City of
Clocks.

Kolgríma explained that the clockworks developed in Bretland were part of the mechanics that
make the Äsvor work. “We know the Äsvor have been imbued with magic. How else could they open
 Ragnarok Usurped 25

portals to other cities? But their bodies themselves, they were built by men. I know they look alive,
and it’s even possible to believe that they are alive, but they’re really machines.”

Vakr grumbled, “I suppose it’s cheaper and easier to have the Äsvor make the warps than to pay
shifts of priests and priestesses to do the job.”

Kolgríma shrugged, “Of course it is. Äsvor don’t need food, water or sleep. They don’t take breaks.
People are fallible.”

“Obviously,” Drengr added piously, “priests and priestesses have more important work to do than
opening portals for travelers all the time.”

“Of course, Father,” said Hrefna, with scarcely a trace of mockery in her voice.

Well after sunset, the group camped at a prearranged site outside of the shadow of the slowly
circling city, and waited for Tyrfingr to show up with his surprise package. They sat around the
campfire, telling tales of Kolgríma’s adventures as the Guild Mistress of Thieves and Assassins,
while Drengr listened in, shaking his head with disapproval.

“Hail the camp,” a voice came out of the darkness. “Don’t shoot, Hrefna, it’s me.”

Tyrfingr strode into the clearing and the circle of firelight, grinning from ear to ear.

“So what did you have to fetch?” Galmann asked the skald, curious.

“Not WHAT. WHO,” Tyrfingr said, and beckoned someone forward into the firelight.

Before them stood a pretty platinum-blonde haired woman, wearing the robes of a priestess. She
smiled at everyone.

“I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Marína,” Tyrfingr began.

“WIFE?” three or four voices said in unison.

“I’m as surprised as you obviously are,” Marína said in a rich, pleasant voice. “More so that this
wandering minstrel actually came back and fetched me like he promised.” She winked at Tyrfingr
and took hold of his hand.

“When did you get married?” Vakr demanded.

Tyrfingr, incredibly, blushed. “About six months ago.”

“…And then he left me there in Manaw, reading moldy old books in the library, and traipsed off and
found all of you!” Marína added. “Not much of a honeymoon,” she muttered under her breath.

“And which sect of the Church do you belong to, Lady?” asked Father Drengr courteously. “My
branch doesn’t allow its priests to marry.”

“We are Daughters of Frigga, Wife to Odin,” Marína explained. “It is part of our canons to marry if
we can, so we can experience the joys and pains of being bonded to a man.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 26

Tyrfingr rolled his eyes. “She’s been telling me at length about the pains of being left behind by her
beloved, all the way down the road to the campsite.”

“I think you deserve to be nagged, Tyrfingr,” Kolgríma piped in. “How COULD you leave her there in
Manaw, all alone?”

“Someone had to find out the secrets of Yggdrasil,” Tyrfingr attempted to explain. “It’s not like
there’s road signs in there reading ‘this way to Niflheim!’”

Drengr crossed his arms and stared at the skald. “Isn’t the research supposed to be MY job?” he
asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

“But… we were already there and…” Tyrfingr struggled, for the first time at a loss for words.

“Give it up old man,” Hrefna chuckled. “You lose this time. Welcome to our company, Marína!”

Marína’s eyes twinkled as she nodded thanks, and settled herself down with the adventurers to talk
about the dangers that Yggdrasil would present them.

“The first thing you must know is that the World-Tree is alive. Not just a living tree, but a thinking
being. Yggdrasil was here before the gods themselves were born, and even THEY don’t know
everything about it. So what I learned is what has been passed on to us by those investigators that
survived…”

“That doesn’t sound inviting,” Vakr grumbled.

“Well, Yggdrasil has a series of defenses, and it is also occupied. There are many different types of
beings that live within its branches and within its trunk. The main defense the World Tree uses is
the Maze. Countless people have become hopelessly lost inside the Maze. Then there are the Nature
Spirits of Vanaheim. They defend the World-Tree from within and without.”

“Did your books give you any instruction on how to surmount the Maze?” Father Drengr asked the
young priestess.

“No,” Marína replied regretfully. “Though they did mention that occasionally, Yggdrasil will
welcome one or two special people into its trunk, and teach them marvelous secrets.”

Tyrfingr looked around at his friends. “I certainly hope the World Tree likes us, or our visit may be
very short.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 27

CHAPTER FIVE

After a pleasant evening of solid sleep, the greatly-expanded group woke and stretched in the sun-
dappled clearing, planning the day’s journey.

“It’s been fine so far,” Hrefna said, “But I’m already getting tired of walking. Going to Ekerö was a
huge detour from where we want to be.”

“It was necessary,” Drengr told her.

Hrefna waved a delicate hand apologetically. “I know Father, I don’t begrudge it. I’m just tired.”

Marína sat near the coals smiling secretively, listening to the conversation.

“Well,” Tyrfingr announced, stretching. “Time’s a-wasting. Let’s get going.”

Marína stood up and took a small blue gemstone out of her pocket. She whispered some words to
the gemstone and tossed it onto the ground in front of her. Ripples appeared on the rocky ground,
as though she had tossed the stone into water. It was an eerie effect.

“Everyone in,” she said, gesturing to the rippling portal.

“A warp portal?” Vakr asked. “To where?”

Marína winked, but didn’t answer. Vakr shrugged and stepped into the ripples of the portal. The
immediate dizziness of stepping through space gripped him, but he was used to it after years of
using the Äsvor network for travel. He flexed his knees slightly, and appeared on the other side. He
stepped to the right to be out of the way for the next traveler to arrive, and took a look around him.

He was standing on a weathered wooden platform, high up in trees that looked decidedly tropical.
The heat was sweltering. Vines with bright flowers climbed the trunks of the trees, and the
blossoms buzzed with bees and other insects. There was an intoxicating scent in the air, a mixture
of black earth, flowers and greenery. Vakr couldn’t remember the last time he was in a place that
felt so alive.

A small child climbed up a rough rope ladder to join Vakr on the platform. The child was ebony-
skinned with shining dark eyes. He was naked and looked quite comfortable in the heat. He smiled
and waved at the group, then ran off to look for his friends. Vakr envied the child’s freedom and
wished he could shuck off some of his robes. He could feel the fabric of his under-robes sticking to
his back already.

The rest of the travelers arrived one by one, with Marína appearing last. It was interesting to see
them step through the portal. From this side, it was though their feet, then their legs, then the rest
of them stepped into existence from nowhere. “Welcome to Kilwa,” Marína told them, grinning. “I
thought you’d like a bit of a shortcut!”

Tyrfingr laughed out loud. “THAT shaves a bit of time off our travels,” he boomed in his hearty
voice.

“That’s right beside the World Tree!” Galmann crowed happily.

 Ragnarok Usurped 28

“Yes…” agreed Drengr. “And there it is,” he said reverently, as he pointed.

The tree was beyond immense. Even surrounded by heavy foliage, if Vakr craned his neck upward
he could see the huge, old tree with its top branches hidden in the clouds. The CLOUDS! He couldn’t
believe the size of the thing he was seeing. The trunk of the tree could contain a good-sized village.
Even considering how close they were to the tree, Vakr realized that it would be a good day’s walk
through the jungle to get there.

“We need to visit the Chief of the village,” Tyrfingr told them. “The one who gave you the staff,” he
added to Vakr.

The adventurers walked along fraying, swaying rope bridges, over wooden platforms and up and
down rope ladders to reach the Chief’s hut. Life teemed around them as they walked; brightly
coloured birds flew from branch to branch, teasing and taunting them as they walked. Little insects
that glowed like jewels hid between overhanging leaves. One persistent monkey bounced around
them, begging for treats.

“This one is pretty tame,” Hrefna laughed, as the monkey swarmed up her leg and sat on her
shoulder. He ran his little brown fingers through her hair and tugged on her ear. She reached into
her pouch and offered him some dried fruit, which he took and happily munched. His prehensile tail
wrapped around her upper arm like a hug and he chattered to her excitedly.

Kolgríma grinned and said, “Looks like you have a new boyfriend Hrefna!”

“He’s very affectionate,” Hrefna said primly, trying not to burst into giggles as the little primate gave
her wet kisses on the cheek.

Tyrfingr laughed and shook his head, watching them.

Little huts nestled here and there on the branches and wooden platforms. Dark, smiling faces
peered at them from windows. An old couple sitting on a bench outside their home waved to them,
then spoke to each other in a musical language that incorporated hand gestures and clicks. Tyrfingr
nodded and responded to them in their language. They laughed and waved the group onwards as
though they were saying “shoo children, on your way.”

“You speak Kilwan?” Vakr asked.

“The Chief took the time to teach me,” Tyrfingr explained. “I spent a lot of time here, collecting their
stories.”

Marína slipped her hand into Tyrfingr’s and said, “I speak Kilwan as well. I was here as a
missionary. This is where Tyr and I met.”

“It’s also where we were married,” Tyrfingr said, and stopped to kiss his bride.

Vakr coughed, embarrassed, and looked away.

“Jealous, now that I’ve replaced you?” Hrefna teased. The monkey sat proudly on her shoulder and
whispered little secrets into her ear.
 Ragnarok Usurped 29

Kolgríma slid her arm around Vakr’s waist and snuggled against him. “That’s ok Vakr, I’ll keep you
company.” Then she laughed and peeled herself away from him as the heat caused their sweaty
bodies to stick together. “Well, maybe when it’s cooler, like… tonight?” There was a hint of promise
and challenge to her words.

Vakr blushed, not sure if she was serious, but was certainly looking forward to the evening to see if
she was.

The group finally arrived before the hut of the Chief of Kilwa. The hut wasn’t much larger than the
other living huts, but it was ornately decorated. Beautiful wood carvings adorned the walls,
highlighted with bright paint and gold leaf. The carvings seemed to tell the story of the Kilwan
natives, and how they were birthed from the World Tree.

A short, barrel-chested guard with a wicked looking spear in his hand stood at the door. Tyrfingr
spoke to him briefly and the guard nodded and rapped on the door with the butt of his spear.

The door opened abruptly, and a small, lively old man stood before them. He wore a loincloth
woven of red and gold threads. He wore strand after strand of polished stone beads in every color
of the rainbow around his neck. The necklaces peeked out from under his copious white beard. His
hair was also pure white and utterly untamed. The chief’s eyes fairly glowed in his smiling face.
“You come in!” he commanded, gesturing for them to follow.

He laughed at Drengr’s look of surprise at his command of their language. “I teach Tyrfingr. I learn
too!”

Tyrfingr whispered to Vakr, “He understands more than he speaks.”

The seven companions crowded into the little hut and settled down on woven reed mats strewn
across the floor. The Chief sat on a stuffed, leopard-skin pillow, and greeted each of them with a
smile and a nod.

“It is time to visit the Life Tree?” the Chief asked Tyrfingr, cutting through any potential
pleasantries.

Tyrfingr nodded, “It is, Grandfather. The wait is finally over.”

The old chief nodded decisively. “You will dance and sing with us tonight?” the old man asked the
group.

“Of course, Grandfather,” Hrefna answered him. “We would love to dance with you!”

Hrefna’s little monkey was curiously investigating the interior of the hut. He would pick up
everything he could find. He lifted a small basket filled with heavily scented flowers, and dumped
them onto the floor to see if there might be food underneath the petals.

The Chief gently chided the monkey, and gestured to the window. The monkey seemed to actually
be contrite. He glanced back at Hrefna, then slunk out the window. Tyrfingr laughed, and Hrefna
asked him why.

“Grandfather called your monkey ‘little tree demon,’” he answered.

 Ragnarok Usurped 30

“Monkey is everywhere, stealing and making messes,” explained the Chief. “But we enjoy how they
live life.”

Hrefna felt very at ease in the Chief’s hut. In fact, she had felt much more calm and centered ever
since they had arrived at Kilwa. Maybe it was the nearness of the World Tree that was helping her
settle. She felt if she tried just a little harder, she might reach some of her lost memories.

The Chief was telling them his plans for the next morning. “I send two warriors with you. When you
get to the Life Tree, two metal warriors will be there waiting.”

“Metal warriors?” Drengr asked Tyrfingr.

“Knights,” Tyrfingr explained. “They wear armor, so the Kilwa call them the metal warriors.”

Galmann nodded. “Knights of the Church protect the sacred entrances to Yggdrasil. There are many
secrets within the Tree that are not meant for every man.”

The Chief laughed. “Metal warriors don’t know all ways into Life Tree. Kilwa go inside all the time.”

“Grandfather,” Drengr replied diplomatically, “The Church would never stop the Children of the
World Tree from going inside.”

“We know, we know,” the Chief laughed. “Sneaking in is more fun!”

The party that night was raucous. Smiling, dark-skinned tribe members swarmed everywhere, men,
women and children alike. There was beautiful music played on drums, rattles and pipes. A huge
fire burned in a hammered metal fire pit set into the wooden platform high above the jungle floor.

A pretty Kilwan girl served drinks of fermented fruit juices. She wore bright skirts of blue material,
but was unselfconsciously bare-breasted. Hrefna and Kolgríma giggled to one another while
watching Father Drengr try to look everywhere but at the girl’s ample chest.

The Chief nudged the priest and pointed the girl out to him. “My granddaughter!” he said proudly.

“She… she’s very lovely,” the priest said in a strangled voice.

That exchange sent Hrefna and Kolgríma into gales of laughter, which only stopped when Tyrfingr
chided them. “Stop teasing the priest, ladies,” he said in fatherly tone.

Later that evening, Hrefna stood up and asked the old Chief, “May I dance for you, Grandfather?”

The old man smiled and nodded and an area was cleared for the völva. She glanced over at Tyrfingr
who nodded, telling her that he was willing to play. Hrefna ducked into the hut she had been given
to change.

Tyrfingr carefully tuned his guitar, and many of the villagers crowded around to watch the
spectacle. They remembered the skald from his visit months ago. They loved the exotic sound of his
music.
 Ragnarok Usurped 31

Hrefna was in a strange mood as she changed into her dance costume. Although she felt at ease in
the Kilwa village, she felt that she needed to explain how serious the visit to Yggdrasil would be.
Rather than her usual silks, she put on a very different costume.

Hrefna came out onto the wooden platform and into the flickering firelight. She was wearing a short
skirt made of plates of heavy leather, metal arm bracers and a molded leather chest-plate. Her boots
were matching leather, and came up to her thighs. Her hair was braided and looped onto her head
in warrior’s braids, out of the way. In each hand, she held a coiled leather whip.

The völva looked at Tyrfingr and caught his eye. He raised an eyebrow at her costume, and knew
what she wanted him to play. Hrefna stomped hard onto the wooden platform, once, twice, three
times. Tyrfingr began to play a battle song and his rich voice provided the words.

“Atli, high lord of all the horse-riders

Would avenge the death of his sister Brynhild.
Unless a blood-debt could be paid
He vowed all the Gjukungs would be killed.”

The whip in Hrefna’s left hand was slightly shorter than the one in her right. She stomped her feet
and cracked one whip after the other, simulating the hoof-beats of the horses of Atli.

“To appease the Lord, the Gjukungs offered

The beautiful Guthrun for him to wed.
The girl was given a drink of forgetfulness
So she would willingly go to his bed.”

Hrefna suddenly became the girl in the dance, young and naïve. She wrapped the whips around her
wrists to show how she was bound, against her true will, to this vicious man.

“Once married, Guthrun learned her man

Was not content with the blood-debt paid
And intended the deaths of Gunnar and Hogni
At whose feet, Brynhild’s murder was laid.”

Hrefna/Guthrun stepped fearfully around the fire pit, the knowledge of her kinfolks’ danger burned
within her. She had to find a way to warn them.

“Lord Atli invited the brothers to join him

But Guthrun sent word in a message of runes
That treachery lie in the heart of the horse-lord
And the brothers were coming to meet their dooms.”

Hrefna’s feet sketched the magic signs of the runes on the weathered wood of the platform. Where
she danced, a faint glow followed. Her whips curled and snapped in the air.

“Gunnar and Hogni ignored the girl’s message

And arrived at the door of the terrible lord
Hogni died first to slake the lord’s anger
 Ragnarok Usurped 32

His heart was cut out with Atli’s sharp sword.”

She danced Hogni’s death in terrible stomps of her boot heels. Her whips snapped out with deadly
accuracy, snuffing the torches that lit the railings of the wooden platform. One by one, she
extinguished the flames.

“Gunnar was cast down with the serpents

He valiantly used his harp to defend,
But though the snakes fell asleep to his music,
The bite of one adder brought Gunnar his end.”

By the glow of the firelight, Hrefna’s whips seemed to be living things; deadly snakes. She danced
with the snakes, trying to mesmerize them, but eventually, she dropped to her knees, the whips
encircling her neck and torso. As Tyrfingr played out the last notes of his song and his voice faded,
Hrefna leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the planks of wood in front of her. The dance
was done.

Only the soft hum of insects and the crackling of the fire could be heard. It seemed that no one was
even breathing. Slowly, a villager’s bare foot stomped rhythmically on the planking, and one by one,
the beat was taken up by others, until the trees fairly shook with their stomping. Hrefna stayed
where she was, shuddering from the exertion and power of the dance.

“It is a dangerous job you do,” the Chief told her. The old man helped her to her unsteady feet. He
held a closed fist over his heart. “The Kilwans will fight with you when the time comes.”

“You know our plans then?” she asked shakily.

“Yes, yes, the pretty white-haired girl told us when she married Tyrfingr here,” the Chief explained,
pointing at Marína, who was leaning against her husband.

“Tyr explained everything to me,” Marína told Hrefna. “I knew the Chief would want to help protect
Midgard,” she explained.

Hrefna sat down and gratefully accepted the drink she was offered. The great party warmed up
again around her, but she felt very isolated. As the evening wore on, she watched Tyrfingr and
Marína sneak to their hut, and she smiled. However, when Kolgríma took Vakr by the hand and led
him to her hut, Hrefna felt a pain she couldn’t quite name. She shook off the feeling after a while,
and joined in with the beautiful village girls as they danced to the native music, showing some of
her steps and learning theirs. Long into the evening, Hrefna danced, until, exhausted, she went to
her own hut alone.

Hrefna wasn’t the only member of the group to get a short night’s sleep. Galmann and Drengr
stayed up late discussing the Kilwan legends of the World Tree with the Chieftain. Tyrfingr and
Marína needed to get reacquainted, and Vakr and Kolgríma spent the majority of the night talking.

So many thoughts went through Vakr’s head when Kolgríma lead him to her hut. Why did she
choose him? Did he want this? Could he do this? Was he ready? Would his body shut up long
enough for his brain to get a chance to think about it?
 Ragnarok Usurped 33

All his questions silenced the minute the door shut behind them. “Before you start thinking too
much,” Kolgríma warned him, “I took you in here so we could talk. Privately.”

“…Oh,” Vakr responded. He sat down heavily on a floor cushion. Confusion and disappointment
showed on his face, along with a small touch of relief.

Kolgríma chose to ignore his body language and continued on. “I’ve known Tyrfingr for quite some
time. Anyone who works my town is my business. I’ve known, for years now, that he’s connected to
a much larger organization than the Skald’s Guild, and I knew his spies were just as good as mine.
We’ve shared lots of information over the years.”

Vakr felt shocked. How little he knew his friend, the man he grew up with!

“That’s why I know so much about YOU,” she continued. “Tyrfingr asked me to keep an eye on you
when you came to Fes. He needed to keep tabs on where you were, though he never really told me
why. I did it out of professional courtesy. Well, I did, at first…”

“What do you think you know about me?” Vakr asked, somewhat defensively. He wasn’t sure he
liked his privacy invaded like this, not at all.

“I know you graduated top of the class at the Mage Academy. I know that nobody completed the
wizard testing faster or better than you. Ever. I know you were the youngest successful applicant to
become a high wizard. I know that you did it all to impress her.”

Vakr sucked in air sharply as if she had just punched him, and let it out in a sigh. “Luna…”

Kolgríma’s voice softened. “But you didn’t know she couldn’t handle competing with you. You didn’t
know that SHE wanted to be the best, and you were thwarting her at every turn. You didn’t know
that you were turning her against you.”

Vakr stared at Kolgríma, stricken. “Yes, but how did YOU…?”

“I dug deep, Vakr,” she said gently. “When she left the academy and went to be a sage rather than a
wizard… I had my people follow her trail to Manaw. She’s still there, you know. I could tell you how
to get in contact with her.”

Vakr shook his head. “When Luna left, she said things. Things that cut me deeply. I really think she’d
rather never hear from me again.”

“…And you don’t contact her, because no matter what she said… you still love her, and you don’t
want her to be hurt,” Kolgríma barely whispered.

Vakr nodded his head, mutely, and blinked back tears.

Kolgríma sat in front of Vakr, and drew her knees up to her chin. She looked like a very vulnerable
little girl in that position, so different from her cocky, carefree, daylight self.

“And because Tyrfingr asked me to, I watched you. I saw you lose yourself in books, in booze, in
watching Hrefna dance… anything to avoid thinking about her,” Kolgríma said. “You moved away
from Oslo to forget her, and in the process, you forgot yourself.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 34

Vakr drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting it ease some of the pain he was feeling.

Kolgríma turned her head to the side and said, almost inaudibly, “Sometimes I wish…” her voice
trailed off.

“Kolla, what do you wish?” Vakr asked, drawing himself out of his own private pain.

She turned to look at him. “You know I am an orphan. I didn’t have a terrible childhood, but I
belonged to no one. I had no mother or father, no one who was MINE. Sometimes I wish that I had
someone who loved me as deeply as you love Luna.” She heaved a shuddering sigh as if saying the
words lifted a heavy load from her shoulders.

Vakr’s heart pounded and he felt dizzy. He knew he needed to say something to the strangely
vulnerable girl, but he didn’t know what to put into words. Before he let himself over think his
actions, he held a hand out to her, and she took it. Vakr drew Kolgríma towards him and wrapped
his arms around her. The wizard’s lips brushed against hers, and she kissed him back, hungrily. The
rest of the night, there was no more need for words between them.
 Ragnarok Usurped 35

CHAPTER SIX

The sun filtered down through the canopy of the jungle, causing splashes of sunlight to shine
through the window of Hrefna’s hut. She groaned and rolled over and tried to cover her head, but it
was no use. She had to get up.

Ah gods! Everything hurt. She hadn’t danced that long or that hard in ages. It felt good though. She
pulled on her clothes and went out to join her friends.

All of them were sitting on the benches lining the tree-top platform, eating sliced fruit and some
sort of bread for breakfast. Tyrfingr and Marína were cuddled against each other, predictably. Vakr
and Kolgríma sat together, barely brushing fingertips, talking intimately. Father Drengr and Brother
Galmann were watching a Kilwan youth curiously as he tied vines around his ankles. The boy
turned and winked, then leapt off the platform! Hrefna screamed and started towards the edge,
when she heard the boy howl then start to laugh hysterically. Incredibly, he had reached the ends of
the vines, which were also lashed to the platform, and had bounced. His head was a scant foot or
two above the ground below, and his friends were at the bottom, helping him down.

Hrefna sat down, weakly, feeling her heart pound. “Fascinating, isn’t it?” Galmann asked her. “It’s a
sort of sport and coming of age ceremony for them. Tyrfingr says they call it a spirit leap.”

“Maybe you could warn me next time?” she snapped, feeling foolish about being frightened.
Galmann grinned at her. A new youngster scrambled up the rope ladder to the platform to try his
hand at the game.

Soon enough, the group had gathered their kits and was standing at the edge of the Kilwan village.
With them was the old Chief and two of his warriors; sturdy, strong-shouldered men of the tribe.
They both carried nasty-looking spears and shields covered in the hides of the local boars.

The path they travelled was well-worn by thousands of bare feet pounding the ground flat over
countless years. Overhanging vines and crawling plants had been cleared to make the way clutter-
free for visitors to the World Tree. The path was only wide enough for them to walk in single-file
however, and the jungle wrapped around them like they were in a long, leafy tunnel. One of the
village warriors lead the line, and the other walked behind, scanning for danger. The jungle was
home to many dangerous hunters, which was why the Kilwan chose to build their village high in the
trees.

Although they heard jungle cats in the distance, the travelers saw no danger on route to Yggdrasil. It
was a fair march through the steaming jungle, and they were all sweating and exhausted when the
lead warrior held up a hand to stop them.

Tyrfingr spoke with the warrior in Kilwan, and the warrior pointed ahead. Hrefna peered around
the group to see what looked like a massive tree-trunk diagonally crossing their path. It looked like
they would have to climb over it.

When they reached the tree trunk, there was a small clearing around it and the group could spread
out somewhat. To their amazement, the “trunk” was actually a tree root, more massive than could
be imagined. Into the side of the root hand- and foot-holds had been carved.
 Ragnarok Usurped 36

Tyrfingr turned to the group and said, “We’re supposed to climb onto the root and walk along it to
get to the opening of the World Tree. The warrior says there is no danger here and we can go on our
own. Do you all agree?”

The adventurers nodded or voiced their agreement, and one by one climbed up onto the immense
root. Hrefna looked in both directions, but the root dwindled off beyond her line of vision in one
direction. The other direction lead to the Tree.

They walked along the tree root. Its bark had been worn smooth from countless years of footsteps.
It was easily wide enough to walk three abreast. Where the root joined the trunk of the tree it
widened out. Offerings of food, jewelry, cloth and other gifts were placed around a huge knothole
that could easily allow a horse to pass through.

Beside the knothole were two Knights. One was wearing the crest of Odin on her breastplate, two
stylized ravens facing one another. The other wore a crest that seemed to pique Father Drengr’s
interest, a white lily, fully blossomed.

“Hail Knights,” Drengr greeted them. “I am Drengr of the Church of Odin. Were you told I would
arrive?”

The woman nodded. “We were Father. We were told there would be a group of visitors that were to
be allowed to pass, and that you would be with them.” She bowed formally to him. “I am Chandrah,
Knight of Odin’s Church. My companion is Thorvir the Unperceivable, Knight of Freya.” Thorvir
bowed to the group as well.

“Knight of Freya?” Galmann asked politely. “I didn’t know that the Vanir gods even had Churches,
much less Knights to defend them. Is Nature herself not the Church of the Vanir?”

Thorvir removed his helm and held it in the crook of his elbow to better address the Monk. “Yes,
Brother, it’s true, the Vanir have no Churches. However, I was knighted by a priestess of Freya and
given the duty to guard the World Tree. I am the only of Knight of my Order.”

Thorvir was tall and stood stiffly. His hair was dyed blue and was short and spiked. His eyes were a
blue so deep that they looked black in the bright sunlight.

Chandrah asked, “May we know the names of your companions, so I can add them to the Church
records? We keep files of all visitors to the World Tree.”

Drengr introduced Galmann as a Monk of the Church. Galmann clasped his hands in front of himself
and bowed smartly. He then introduced Marína, priestess of Frigga, and her husband Tyrfingr, also
known as Apple the Clown. Marína made a little curtsy to the Knight, and Tyrfingr swept off his hat
and bowed elaborately.

Then Drengr introduced Vakr, of the Guild of Wizards. Vakr nodded politely to the Knight and he
himself introduced Kolgríma. He didn’t mention her profession however.
 Ragnarok Usurped 37

Hrefna came forward at the last and introduced herself as Hrefna the Völva. Out of the corner of her
eye, she noticed Thorvir falter a bit upon seeing her, then regain his composure. Hrefna was
curious, but felt she would wait until a better moment to speak to the Knight.

Chandrah dutifully added their names to an immense ledger.

“Is that book full of the names of the people who visited the World Tree?” asked Marína.

“Just for the last two years or thereabouts,” Chandrah explained. “There are hundreds of volumes
like these back in Björkö. Very few visitors are permitted inside the Great Tree however.”

“Why is that?” Marína questioned. “Doesn’t the Tree belong to everyone?”

“It’s more correct to say that everyone belongs to the Tree,” Thorvir said. “We are all Children of the
World Tree. The issue lies in the fact that inside the Tree is… Is not of this world,” he tried to
explain. “Directions mean nothing, time means little, distances are deceiving. People have gone in
and become hopelessly lost. Many have never been found, some have come out quite mad.”

“That’s why Thorvir will be going with you,” Chandrah added. “He knows the ways of the World
Tree better than most. He will be your guide.”

Drengr and Tyrfingr exchanged glances. Tyrfingr shrugged and Drengr nodded. “Agreed,” Father
Drengr told the Knight of Odin.

Thorvir shoved his helmet back onto his head, then bent down and picked up his own travel kit.
Hegestured to the knothole in the Tree. “Then, if you would be so kind as to follow me, we will be on
our way.”The knothole lead them into a tunnel that entered the living wood of the Tree. Hrefna ran
her hand along the smooth wood and felt her fingers tingle at the life the Tree contained.

“How old is Yggdrasil?” she asked Thorvir reverently.

“Older than the gods, my Lady,” he replied. “Yggdrasil was here before the nine worlds were
created.” He looked at her, quizzically, as if to ask why she needed to ask the question.

The tunnel widened out until they were in the interior of the Tree. Inside, it looked as though they
were in a hallway which was paneled in fine wood; floor, walls and ceiling. There were no sharp
corners inside the Tree; everything flowed smoothly into everything else. Doorways were circular
and round-edged. Small glass mage-lights hung from the wall. The lights were eternal, never
needing upkeep and never causing a worry of fire. Other than the occasional doorway, branching
tunnels and the mage-lights, the interior of the tree was featureless. There were no decorations,
carvings, and no directions anywhere, only occasional plant life and groups of growing fungi to
break the monotony.

Thorvir walked confidently, leading them through the organic tunnels. He would take doorways,
seemingly at random, and never hesitated at intersections.

Finally, Tyrfingr, exasperated at not being able to solve the pattern Thorvir was taking asked,
“Where are we going?”
 Ragnarok Usurped 38

Thorvir stopped and looked back at the group. “My apologies,” he said. “We’re headed to the centre
of the Maze. There is a ramp there, which we can follow upwards or downwards as you decide.”

“But how do you know we’re going to the centre? I can’t even tell what direction we’re facing any
more, and I’m VERY good at directions,” Tyrfingr grumped.

“It doesn’t matter what direction we’re facing,” Thorvir replied. “It will change randomly as we pass
through. The walls of the Maze are alive. Doorways open and close behind you and ahead of you. If
the Tree doesn’t want you to find the centre of the Maze, you never will.”

Marína shuddered. “So that’s how people became lost and went mad.”

“Exactly, Lady,” Thorvir replied. “I’ve found bones of people who have been entombed inside
chambers in the Maze over the years. I found one old man who was living quite happily in the Maze.
He didn’t remember his own name, but the Tree had taken a liking to him I suppose. He never
lacked for food or water, the Tree made sure he found it whenever he needed. But he never was
able to find the exit.”

“Did you bring him out?” asked Kolgríma.

“No, Lady, he was happy to stay, and who am I to argue with the desires of the Tree?”

“How do you find your way so easily?” Drengr asked the Knight.

“The Tree shows him,” Hrefna whispered to herself as Thorvir answered, “The Tree shows me.”

Thorvir pointed along the floor they were following. “Do you see?” he asked.

On the floor of the tunnel was a small patch of mushrooms in bright hues of blue and red. The
adventurers looked at the mushrooms, uncomprehending.

“You haven’t noticed, you haven’t been watching,” Thorvir told them. “But the mushrooms never
grow together. It’s always a patch of blue next to a patch of red. If we go in the direction of the red
mushrooms, we’ll reach the centre of the tree. The blue will lead us out.”

Tyrfingr was utterly amazed. “Does this secret work for everyone?”

“OH! No, m’Lord, it doesn’t. It only seems to give me the directions I need. I told that secret to
Chandrah, and the Tree just took her in a big circle right back out,” Thorvir replied.

“Why do you think Yggdrasil favors you?” Galmann asked Thorvir.

“He’s chosen of the Vanir,” Hrefna said dreamily. She shook her head suddenly. “I… I’m sorry, I
drifted off for a second.” Tyrfingr looked at the völva with concern.

“My Lady,” Thorvir began, “may I speak with you for a moment?”

“Well,” said Tyrfingr, picking up on Thorvir’s mood. “I, for one, could use a rest. Why don’t we settle
here for a moment?”
 Ragnarok Usurped 39

Kolgríma nodded in agreement, and the rest of the group dropped their packs gratefully. Thorvir
walked a little further onwards in the tunnel, with Hrefna following behind.

Thorvir lead Hrefna out of ear-shot and view of the party, then fell to his knees in front of her with a
great clank of his armor. He took her hands in his and said, “My Lady! Where have you been? I’ve
been so worried! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Why didn’t you greet me? When you
said nothing I thought you wished to keep our bond secret, so I said nothing as well…”

Hrefna’s eyes opened wide and she snatched her hands back from the beseeching Knight. “I… I’m
sorry… I don’t know you!” Even as she said the words, something inside her mind tickled a bit, a
memory fluttering nearby, so close she could almost touch it.

“It’s me, Thorvir! Your Knight! What happened to you, my Lady?” The Knight got to his feet and
stepped closer to the völva, but she stepped back, confused. She held a hand to her head; her old
head-wound was throbbing.

“Don’t… I’m not who you think I am…” Hrefna held her free hand out feebly, trying to fend off the
worried man. She stumbled backwards, then started to faint. She managed to call out, “Thorvir! …”
before she lost consciousness.

When Hrefna came to, she was surrounded by concerned faces, looking down at her. Her head was
cradled in someone’s lap, and that someone was stroking her hair. “Huh?” she said intelligently.
“Wha-?”

“How’s the head, girl?” Tyrfingr asked her. He hunkered down beside her and took her hand in his.

“Hurts,” she explained, then looked up into Thorvir’s face. He was the one holding her.

“Thorvir?”

“Welcome back,” he said, grinning.

Hrefna took a deep breath and told herself the next thing she said would be more than one word.
“What’s going on?!”

Kolgríma sat down next to the völva and said “It seems our Knight here knows you from before you
got hit in the head.”

“And you seem to have recognized him, somehow,” added Tyrfingr. “The shock of it made you faint.”

“Ok, wait,” Hrefna struggled to sit up and Thorvir helped her upright. She turned and looked at him.
“I DO know you… from somewhere. I know things ABOUT you. I recognize this place, Yggdrasil. ”

“Of course you do,” Thorvir told her. “You grew up here. You used to live here. Well, not HERE, in
the Maze, but inside the Tree.”

“Would you like me to heal you Hrefna?” Marína asked. “Maybe the pain is making it harder for you
to remember.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 40

Hrefna nodded her accent, and Marína said a brief prayer while stroking her gentle fingers over
Hrefna’s forehead. For a moment, her fingers and Hrefna’s skin glowed blue, then the pain in the
völva’s head began to abate. Inside her mind, Hrefna felt memories aligning themselves, as though if
she wanted to find them, she only needed to open the right doors. She closed her eyes slowly. When
she opened them again, she said, “Thank you Marína, I do believe that helped a great deal. Thorvir,
can you tell me what happened up to when I went missing?”

“Well, you and I had been here, planning on how to let the Church officials know that the Jotun had
a plan to release Loki…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hrefna interrupted him. “I need you to go further back… though that is an
incredibly interesting piece of information…”

“Oh, sorry My Lady, of course,” Thorvir apologized. “I’ll start at the beginning then.”

“How long have I known you? It feels like my whole life, though we met when I was sixteen,”
Thorvir began. “I felt a calling to the gods, but the Church was not the right place for me. I went
there, of course, my mother made sure of that. I felt a closeness to Odin, Frigga, Thor… all of them.
But something was drawing me elsewhere.

“Before I felt confident to do my own adventuring, I learned the ways of the sword. I was quite
proficient, and the local sword masters taught me a lot. When I felt ready, I left home and began
travelling. Something was calling me to the west, and I followed my heart. I was a young man,
barely more than a child in some people’s eyes, but I took care of myself and made it reasonably
unharmed, to the Kilwa.

“The Chief of the tribe taught me much about their language and their customs. The warriors, they
taught me to use a spear. They’re deadly with those pig-pokers you know. In the eyes of the tribe, I
was ready to become a man…”

Hrefna covered her eyes with her hands. “Do NOT tell me that you jumped on those vine-things.”

Thorvir grinned at her. “Ok, I won’t tell you. Anyhow… After they deemed me ready, they took me
on the sacred trek to the Life Tree. The second I touched its root, I knew that I was home. I could
almost feel it speaking to me. The Kilwa know ways into the World Tree that the Church doesn’t
know. Secret ways, dangerous ways. One of the true tests of manhood is to bring a young warrior to
the Tree and let him wander the Maze, alone. If he makes it out alive, he has been accepted as a
Child of the Tree, and a man of the Tribe. I was lead to an entrance and told to go inside. I had no
food or water, nothing but a loincloth to wear, and no weapons.

“The Tree is full of life. Not only is it living and sentient, but inside it live many creatures. Not all are
happy to have intruders wandering around. There are beautiful wood-spirits, dryads, who are
deadly as spiders… trapping their pray in twining vines and drawing the life out of them. There are
strange tree-like people who spit fire. They protect some of the ways down to Muspelheim. There
are so many others… we may chance across them and we may have to fight them. I was caught by a
dryad, but I grappled with her, forcing her to release me from her vines. There was a sound like the
chiming of bells. It echoed through the tunnels of the Tree, and the dryads turned and left me alone.
They never bothered me again, except to follow me at a distance and watch me.
 Ragnarok Usurped 41

“Whatever I needed, I seemed to be able to find. A straight shaft and flint to make a spear… food and
water… I wandered for days, discovering new parts of the Tree, well beyond the Maze. I never felt
lost. I felt as though I was being guided somewhere. After seven days inside the tree (or at least, I
think it was seven days… I felt the need to sleep six times) I found a chamber inside the tree.”

He reached out and gently touched Hrefna’s arm. “Inside the chamber, I found you.”

Hrefna smiled and nodded. This felt right, it felt like truth. She wanted to hear more.

“You told me that you had lived in Yggdrasil for a long time. You told me you were high priestess to
Freya. You were… are… the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, so it was easy for me to believe.
I finally understood why the Aesir gods didn’t call me, but the Tree did. I was meant to serve the
Vanir, the gods of Nature. Freya was truly my goddess, she chose me, and called me to you.”

“Hrefna, you told me that you had been expecting me! You told me that Freya had informed you that
she had sent for a Knight Companion for you, and that you were to keep me by your side. We spent
more time together in the Tree, as you taught me its secrets. You taught me the way of the Vanir, the
love of Nature… you knighted me, My Lady.”

“I remember…” Hrefna breathed. “There was a box…”

Thorvir laughed. “Yes, in your chambers. Inside there was armor, a sword. It was like they were
made for me. I suppose that they WERE made for me. You made me wear it and show it off to you.”

Thorvir banged on the breastplate of his armor, right over the mark of the white lily. “I still wear it
today.”

Drengr’s brows furrowed together. “Hrefna doesn’t behave like a priestess. I’ve seen no healing
powers, no prayers…”

Thorvir raised one eyebrow and looked at the high priest. “You serve Odin, m’Lord. Freya is a very
different kind of goddess.”

Hrefna grinned wickedly at the priest. “Oh yes, Freya is the goddess of sensuality and sex. Doesn’t it
make sense that I am what I am?”

Drengr began to blush. “I never even considered… what you do… to be a form of worship.”

“All the gods are in this together, Father. You have to accept all of their practices and methods of
worship to sway them to our side,” Hrefna warned him.

“And how do you know this?” the priest asked huffily.

“Because Freya is telling me so,” Hrefna smiled, bemused. “I can hear Her clear as day. Can’t you?”

“I feel… something…” said Marína softly.

“Yes,” agreed Kolgríma, closing her eyes and smiling sensually.

All the men stared at the women, except for Thorvir. He was nodding, agreeing with them. He too
could feel Freya’s presence.
 Ragnarok Usurped 42

Hrefna stood up suddenly. “It’s time to see Her. Thorvir, She wants us. Lead the way!”
 Ragnarok Usurped 43

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Tree parted a way for them, before their eyes. The living wood flowed into a straight tunnel,
directly towards the centre of the Tree. The adventurers followed the path directly to the Heart of
the Tree; a huge, spiraling ramp that climbed up as far as the eye could see. The ramp also
descended below the earth, down into the living roots of the Tree.

“The ramp will take you right down to the centre of the earth, if you chose to take it,” Thorvir told
them. “Straight into Loki’s prison chamber. The Midgard Serpent lives there. He’s entwined in the
roots, and poisons Loki with his dripping venom.” The Knight pointed upward. “If you take the
ramp straight to the top of the Tree, you’ll find the Sky Eagle. He lives at the top of Yggdrasil.”

Thorvir lead the group towards the entrance to the ramp, and abruptly, what the group thought
were two piles of wood near the ramp, assembled themselves into golems, made of the living wood
of the Tree. The golems shuffled together heavily, blocking the path to the spiraling ramp.

“Freya called us,” Thorvir spoke to the golems. “Let us through, guardsmen.”

Reluctantly, the golems stepped away from each other and made a space for the travelers to pass.

One at a time, the party members stepped onto the ramp and started to climb the smooth, spiraling
slope. If they dared to look down the centre of the shaft, they had a dizzying view of the ramp
spinning down deep into darkness. Looking upward was equally discomforting, for far above them,
a shaft of light from the outside shone straight down through the centre of the Tree.

As the group traversed between the varying levels of the Tree, they caught tantalizing glimpses of
more inhabitants; the beautiful dryads that the Knight had told them about, frolicking with little
nymphs, strange creatures that seemed to have skin like bark, ape-like creatures that wore
makeshift armor and spoke to each other in hoots and grunts. None of the creatures came near the
ramp, or even seemed to notice the presence of the party.

Suddenly, a small black squirrel dashed between Vakr’s legs, ran a quick circle around Father
Drengr, and scooted up the ramp. “What the-?” Vakr cried out.

“Oh,” Thorvir said, laughing. “That’s Ratatosk.”

Kolgríma took hold of Vakr’s arm to steady him, and she asked, “There have to be thousands of
squirrels in Yggdrasil, how do you know which one that is?”

“Ratatosk is the only one who uses the ramp. He has a job here; he delivers insults from the Midgard
Serpent to the Sky Eagle, and back again. Apparently, it’s a full-time job.”

“Now THAT’S a story to tell,” mumbled Tyrfingr. One could practically hear him filing that tidbit of
information away for later.

Not long after the visit from the squirrel, Thorvir gestured that the travelers should step onto a new
level of the Tree. “Welcome home, my Lady,” Thorvir said to Hrefna.
 Ragnarok Usurped 44

Hrefna looked around the chamber. It was a little sitting room, complete with overstuffed chairs,
and something that looked like a fireplace and crackled with heat, but no flames were visible. There
was a braided rug on the floor and a doorway into another room. The living room smelled of her
presence. She couldn’t deny that this was her home. She stepped into the second room and found
her bedroom. It could only be described as sumptuous. A large, comfortable bed was surrounded by
red silk drapes. The floor was littered with plump cushions in every imaginable fabric and hue. A
large knothole served as a window, letting in light and fresh air. “My home,” she breathed. She could
feel the doorways in her mind, opening.

She turned, to find Thorvir had followed her into the room. “You lived here with me?” she asked,
though she was already fairly sure of the answer. He nodded. “Where did you sleep?” He quirked a
little smile at her.

“I’m your Knight companion,” he stressed softly, took her gently in his arms, and kissed her slowly.

“Oh...” Hrefna breathed. “Oh! Freya!” she pulled back out of her Knight’s arms. “She wants us!” she
added, disappointed.

“I can wait,” Thorvir told her. “I’ve waited months. Where DID you go?”

“I really don’t know Thorvir… Maybe Our Lady can shed some more light on that puzzle when we
see her,” she answered.

Thorvir entwined his rough, calloused fingers through Hrefna’s delicate ones and drew her back
into the living room. If anyone had witnessed their kiss, they weren’t making any mention of it.
Tyrfingr, however, seemed to be smirking.

“Do you remember how to reach Vanaheim?” the Knight asked the flustered Völva.

“It has to do with the fireplace…” Hrefna answered, standing in front of it. Then there was a
whisper, just a touch in her mind, and she remembered. She stood, legs spread apart and arms out,
in the shape of a five-pointed star.

“Freya, Goddess, your servant stands before the Gates and begs You open them!”

The air in front of the fireplace began to distort and ripple, as though it were a flag, blowing in a
gentle breeze. It made the fireplace seem to waver. Hrefna calmly stepped into the disturbed area of
space and seemed to disappear.

Thorvir bowed and gestured to the portal, encouraging the group to enter. One by one, they stepped
through, and Thorvir followed them at the last. Behind him, the magical portal disappeared and
there stood nothing but the fireplace.

Beyond the portal lay Vanaheim, the world of the Nature gods, the Vanir. The landscape was
unearthly and beautiful, resembling huge crystal formations that sparkled in the light. There was no
sun, or real sky here. Plants that grew in Vanaheim were translucent and seemed to be made out of
glass. The air was sweet and clean, but the scents here were unfamiliar.
 Ragnarok Usurped 45

Hrefna confidently lead them now, down a cobbled pathway, towards a palace that looked as
though it was carved entirely from gemstones so immense that no seams showed. It glittered
brilliant blue in the sourceless light.

“Are there many Vanir gods?” Vakr asked Hrefna. “There isn’t much written about them.”

“Freya and her brother Frey rule this land,” Hrefna said. “Though there are many gods and
goddesses here, they are worshipped by creatures other than humans… there are gods and goddess
of trees, plants, animals, stones, brooks, oceans… the wind, the air… Frey is god of fertility and the
land. Freya… well, she is goddess of sexuality… and darker passions.”

“War and the battlefield…” Thorvir explained. “Freya is found where ever passion runs deep.”

The travelers climbed the glittering steps towards the wide-open doors of the palace. Fine music
poured from the hallway, and welcomed the group inside. The hallway of the palace opened into an
enormous throne room. On two thrones which looked to be carved of solid ruby, sat Freya and her
brother Frey, Lady and Lord of the Realm of Vanaheim.

The adventurers looked about them, openly gawking. Along the one side of the great throne room
were feasting tables, laden with fruits, vegetables and grains of the field. Many pitchers of wine and
ale were interspersed among full trestles heaped with food. “Welcome, visitors,” Frey intoned.
“Please help yourselves to the Harvest table.” He spread a hand out, gesturing to the food.

On the other side of the hall, there were spread cushions and divans. Draped sensually over the
comfortable furniture were beautiful young ladies and tender young men of every description in
various states of undress. Many of them beckoned to the visitors with open invitation in their
smiles. “Perhaps you’d like to sample some of MY gifts?” Freya asked, chuckling. Father Drengr
swallowed audibly and kept his eyes cast down onto the floor.

Galmann looked quite intrigued at the goddess’s kind offer, and Drengr was scandalized. “I recall
taking no vow of chastity,” Galmann chided the priest. “But perhaps, Great Lady, we should attend
to business before pleasure?”

“Indeed,” Freya agreed, her voice melodious and merry. “Hrefna, daughter of my spirit, come to me.”

Hrefna stepped forward and knelt before the goddess. Freya’s hands touched the völva’s forehead.
“Ah, so that is why I couldn’t find you. After you took the blow to the head, you forgot yourself. I find
you based on your sense of self, and you did not have one,” the goddess mused.

“And Thorvir, when exactly did you misplace your companion? That was terribly irresponsible of
you, you know,” Freya told him.

Thorvir blushed, despite himself. “We had just found the evidence that the Jotun were going to
attempt to free Loki. Hrefna and I decided it would be best to alert the Churches of Odin and Thor to
get their help to thwart the plan. Hrefna sent me to speak to the high priests… but when I returned,
Hrefna was gone!”
 Ragnarok Usurped 46

“I don’t remember the attack, Great Lady,” Hrefna told the goddess. “I could have been asleep, or my
back could have been turned…”

“She was dressed in a white dress and her hair was made up,” offered Tyrfingr. “That was how I
found her.”

“That would have been my costume for the Spring Rites,” Hrefna guessed. “I go to the villages early
in the year and preside over Freya’s spring rituals.”

“Orgies,” sneered Drengr.

“All acts of love and pleasure are My rituals, priest of Odin. Do not dismiss what you do not
understand,” Freya warned the priest.

“And I did find you in early spring, near the town of Sigvatr,” Tyrfingr added.

“So the attack likely happened after the ritual,” Vakr offered, “Or someone would have noticed the
lack of a priestess to officiate.”

“But we had people asking about Hrefna in all the Churches…” Tyrfingr began. “Oh. Right. We were
looking in the wrong Churches. The Earth itself is Your temple, Freya.”

“It is not your fault, skald,” Freya assured him. “You could not have known she was Mine. But
Thorvir, my daughter’s companion, why did you not search for her?”

Thorvir looked utterly ashamed. “I tried, Great Lady, but the trail was cold by the time I found she
was missing. Since I belong to none of the Churches that had received word about Hrefna, I can only
assume nobody bothered to inform me that she had been found. I came back to Yggdrasil to wait for
her to return. I’m so sorry, Love… I should have tried harder,” he said to the völva.

“No harm done,” Hrefna told him. “You tried your hardest, and I wound up following our plans
anyhow!”

“Strange, how that can happen,” smiled Freya. “The Norns would say it was Fate.”

“The Norns say everything is Fate,” grumped her brother, Frey. “They spin the threads of our lives,
weave them, and cut them, and say that done is done. What they DON’T say is that these humans
have far more control over their Fates than we gods.”

“We do?” asked Marína. She was not shy with the god and goddess, having a special relationship
with her own goddess Frigga.

“Of course, child,” Freya told her. “You humans are of the Random. We gods are of Order. We MUST
follow our Fates. You, however, can aid us in… altering those Fates.”

“I WONDERED why the gods would bother asking for our help in a situation like Ragnarok,” Vakr
said excitedly. “It seemed strange that we, who are so powerless compared to you, could be of any
help.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 47

“Powerless?” Frey laughed heartily. “You have more power than you know, Master of the Elements.
Each and every human has the ability to CREATE. Of the gods, only the First were able to do that.”

“There are those heretical gods,” Freya whispered conspiratorially, “that believe that the gods were
creations of MAN and not the other way around.”

“How can THAT be?” cried Drengr, wounded. “You were here before we were!”

“Not all of us,” Freya told him. “Gods are born every day… new gods with strange powers… and
where are they coming from, if not from your creative minds?”

“Great Lady, please stop tormenting the priest of Odin,” Hrefna chastised her. “It isn’t very nice…”

“Oh, child, but it IS fun!” Freya laughed.

Drengr cleared his throat, and said, “Great Lady, will the Vanir be supporting Aesir during
Ragnarok? I was sent by Odin to gain allies…”

Freya waved a hand dismissively, “Of course, priest. Odin should already know that answer. What
interests me more is the evidence of treachery that My Priestess and Knight found.”

Drengr grumbled at being so summarily dismissed, and stalked off to the banquet table to sample
some wine.

“Careful with the wine, Father…” Hrefna called after him. “The grapes come from Frey’s vineyards,
it carries quite a punch!”

Thorvir was addressing Freya, telling her about their discovery. “Ratatosk had come to Hrefna and
me one day, to inform us that there was someone sneaking down the ramp towards Loki’s prison.
We went to investigate, and wound up following a frost giant down to the chamber of the Midgard
Serpent!”

Hrefna turned back to the goddess and nodded. Her memories had been returned to her by the
touch of her goddess’s hand, so she was able to add to the story. “Thorvir and I stayed back, out of
sight and earshot of the giant. We came really close to the chamber, and listened in on the
conversation.”

“The giant was telling Loki that one of their shamans had a plan to replace Loki in the chamber with
a simulacrum… so even if Odin checked, he’d assume Loki was still imprisoned, and not muster his
armies,” Thorvir continued.

“And how long ago was this, again?” Freya calculated.

“At the end of winter, Great Lady,” Hrefna told her. “So it has been ten months since we heard the
news.”

Vakr looked alarmed but hesitated to interrupt.

“So it is possible that the simulacrum has been placed already?” asked Freya.
 Ragnarok Usurped 48

Now Vakr looked positively ill.“Does anyone remember the last time we felt an earth tremor?” he
asked weakly.

Tyrfingr looked contemplative. “It’s been a long time.”

Marína nodded in agreement. “A very long time. They used to come so frequently… it’s been well
over a year since I felt an earthquake.”

Galmann looked shocked, the truth of the situation finally hitting him. “Earth tremors are caused
by…”

Vakr finished for him, “Loki’s struggles when the Serpent’s venom drips into his face! And unless his
wife managed to get a much larger bowl to catch the poison, she HAD to empty that bowl once
every two months or so! Hrefna, Thorvir… did you hear Loki say ANYTHING to the frost giant?”

“No,” admitted Hrefna. “We saw him bound on the slab, his wife holding the bowl over him… the
giant did all the talking.”

Vakr’s voice was nearly strangled now. “What if the switch had ALREADY OCCURRED? What if the
frost giant was sent for you to discover ON PURPOSE, to make the Aesir gods believe they had time
to assemble their forces? Freya’s TITS!” Vakr groaned.

Freya looked down at her ample breasts, amused.

“We REALLY need to get down to the Serpent’s chamber, right NOW,” Vakr urged. “We need to
know if I’m right! Then we need to inform Odin right away. For all we know, the Giants could be at
the gates of Valhalla!”
 Ragnarok Usurped 49

CHAPTER EIGHT

“You will take My chariot to the chamber, it will be much faster than walking,” Freya told the
agitated group.

“Thank You, Great Lady,” Hrefna said, “but I’m not sure if Your beasts will respond to us.”

“They’ll follow your directions, My daughter, or I’ll have words with them!” Freya insisted.

Freya stood and lead Hrefna and Thorvir out towards the stables. “Wait, I’m coming too!” insisted
Vakr, following along.

The stable seemed wrong to Vakr, but he couldn’t figure out why. Then it came to him; he couldn’t
smell horses. Soon, he saw the reason why.

Rather than stalls, the stable had two huge, soft piles of pillows and blankets. Freya chirped a little
noise and two huge housecats lifted their heads lazily from the piles.

“Lady,” Hrefna said again, “Cats have never really been known to follow directions…”

Freya harrumphed indelicately. “Fine, I’ll take you then. But these are My good girls…”

Freya hitched the two huge cats to a beautiful chariot. The four of them stepped inside the chariot
and Freya took the reins and gave them a shake. The cats stretched lazily, looked back at their
Mistress, annoyed, and ambled forward at a leisurely walk.

The cats, defying the laws of gravity, walked upwards into the sky. Vakr looked over the side of the
chariot and gulped, as he saw nothing under them but open air. He turned back to the beautiful
goddess and said, “My apologies, Great Freya, but this doesn’t seem to be much faster than we could
have walked…”

“Cats don’t know the laws of Nature,” Freya said, “So they don’t follow them. I’ll just tell them where
we want to go, and we’ll go there, skipping the space between.” She called to her beloved pets.
“Mommy’s good girls! Take us to the Serpent’s chamber. There’s Mommy’s babies!”

The air swirled around them, and suddenly the bright light of Vanaheim was replaced with the
gloom of a dark cavern. The cats settled down on an outcropping, and studiously ignored their
owner. One of them delicately chewed her toes, and the other lifted a hind leg in the air and began
cleaning herself, rudely.

Stalactites dangled down over a huge chasm. Water dripped monotonously from somewhere,
echoing in the vast chamber. Before them, the chasm loomed; so deep the bottom was hidden in
perpetual darkness. In the centre of the empty chasm rose one flat-topped stalagmite. It looked as
though the tip had been sheared off to create an island in the vast nothingness surrounding it. Over
top of the stalagmite was its twin stalactite, which was home to a monstrous snake. The snake was
coiled nonchalantly around the hanging pillar of rock with its fanged maw opened wide. From his
cruel fangs dripped thick venom which fell slowly and steadily onto the scene below it.
 Ragnarok Usurped 50

The whole island was illuminated with smoking torches which provided the only light in the
chamber. Below the snake there was an altar of sorts, made of solid rock. A man was bound on the
altar in what appeared to be viscera. Beside him stood a woman; she held a beaten bronze bowl
over his face, catching drip after drip of the snake’s terrible venom.

“He certainly LOOKS to be there,” Hrefna said warily.

“Wait, watch,” Vakr urged.

The bowl must have reached its capacity, because the woman slowly lowered it and walked
painfully to the edge of the island. She poured the thick liquid over the edge into the darkness
below. While she was completing this task, more venom dripped down, falling into the man’s
staring eyes, yet he made no sound and did not move. They watched his chest rise and fall, he
seemed to be breathing, but he did not cry out in pain from the caustic venom.

“That tears it,” said Thorvir. “That’s not Loki, it can’t be. But what IS it?”

“Great Freya, we need to get over there. Will your cats take us?” Hrefna asked.

“Oh no,” Freya told her. “They hate the serpent. They would start to fight him and we’d fall into the
abyss! There’s another way.”

The goddess knelt down gracefully and touched the rough rock of the outcropping. She hummed a
small tune and from the depths below, pillars rose like stepping stones, one after the other. They
stretched one by one across the space between the outcropping and the island. “There,” she told
them, straightening up and dusting off her hands. “Now you just need to walk across.”

Vakr swallowed nervously and told Thorvir, “After you.” The Knight nodded and stepped across to
the first stone. The stones were spaced a wide step apart, and were large enough to step on with
both feet, but no larger. “Don’t look down,” Thorvir suggested helpfully as he stepped from stone to
stone.

Vakr took a deep breath and followed after the Knight. Hrefna took the end position, stepping
lightly and deftly across the path. It seemed like an eternity, but the trio arrived safely on the island
only a few moments later.

The woman, Loki’s wife, took no notice of the three of them. She had gone back to her endless task
like an automaton. She had been here for thousands of years, doing this job; she knew nothing else
any more.

Thorvir strode up to the man on the slab and said firmly, “Loki, answer me.”

The man turned his face towards the sound of Thorvir’s voice and stared at him through blank eyes.
His face was covered in slimy venom, but he did not blink.

“What IS this thing?” Vakr asked. He walked up to the man and touched his naked chest. It rose and
fell, but the man wasn’t breathing in any air. “Its skin is dry and cool, but it doesn’t feel like flesh at
all!”
 Ragnarok Usurped 51

Thorvir took hold of the creature’s shoulder and shook it. “What ARE you?” he asked angrily. Still,
the semblance of a man said nothing.

“I don’t think it was taught to speak,” Hrefna said quietly. “Let me check something.” She pulled a
small dagger from its sheath at her waist, took hold of the creature’s hand and pricked a finger. The
creature did not respond. It also did not bleed.

“Do you hear… ticking?” Vakr asked suddenly. He looked around for the source of the noise. Then he
realized where the sound was coming from; he put an ear to the simulacrum’s chest. “This is a
machine!”

Thorvir looked at Hrefna. “Could the Jotun build something like this?” he asked her.

“Not a chance,” Hrefna answered. “They’re barely able to make their own spears and armor. They’ve
gotten this far by sheer brute strength.”

The three companions crossed back over the abyss. As they stepped off onto the outcropping, the
stepping stones sunk silently back into the darkness.

“We need to see Odin, as soon as possible,” Thorvir told the goddess, who was stroking one of her
cats.

As the four climbed back into the chariot and made ready to pick up their companions in Vanaheim,
they watched as the woman on the island dropped the bowl, covered her face with her hands and
fell to her knees.

“My husband!” she keened. “Why do you leave me here alone?”

They rode away to the sounds of her mournful sobbing.

In seconds, the four riders were back in Vanaheim, in the bright light. They all had to blink to
readjust their eyes from the gloom of the cavern. After helping unhitch the goddess’s cats, they ran
back to the throne room.

The scene they found before them was disheartening to say the least.

“LADIES,” Hrefna reprimanded, “Please take your hands off the priest of Odin! And help him find his
robes!”

Brother Galmann was nearby, enjoying a backrub given by two giggling girls. Kolgríma was sipping
some wine, and snickering. “Maybe some sex will mellow him out,” she offered.

“Perhaps,” Hrefna agreed, “But tomorrow morning I’ll have to listen to him go through guilt-ridden
torments, and then he’ll want to atone for two or three weeks. Now where are Tyrfingr and
Marína?”
 Ragnarok Usurped 52

The pair came running in from a side room, hand in hand, disheveled and grinning. “You too?!”
Hrefna groaned. “I can’t leave you alone for ten minutes!”

Frey chuckled openly as Hrefna ordered everyone around. “Someone sober up the priest and
everyone assemble in front of the thrones!”

When everyone was finally dressed and organized in front of the thrones of the god and goddess,
looking much chagrined, Vakr and Thorvir explained what they had found. Hrefna glared at the rest
of the group, arms crossed, daring them to misbehave.

“Loki was replaced by a simulacrum some time ago. We’re estimating at least a year. He has had all
this time to organize and plan his attack against the Aesir, yet he hasn’t done it. Does anyone have
an idea what he can be waiting for?” Thorvir asked.

“He could be waiting for the right opportunity,” Vakr considered.

“Well, it would have made sense to attack now, while our pants were still down,” Hrefna said
acidicly, looking at the priest who was leaning drunkenly against Brother Galmann.

“What we DO know,” continued Vakr, “Is that the simulacrum was not built by Giants, nor by any of
the gods. They just don’t have the technology. We could approach the Elves and ask, but I don’t
think they have it either.”

“What about the Dwarves?” asked Kolgríma. “Did they not teach technology to the humans in the
first place?”

“Yes!” said Vakr excitedly. “We learned most of our knowledge of physics and mechanics from them.
We need to talk to them!”

“Well, they reside in Svartalfheim, with the Dark Elves. It could be dangerous,” warned Hrefna.

“We’re missing something,” Vakr mused aloud. “What is it about this that’s bothering me?”

“We’ll worry about it AFTER we talk to the Dwarves,” Thorvir said. “This is urgent, we need to leave
immediately.”

“I’m afraid my chariot won’t carry you all,” Freya apologized, settling herself back into her throne.
“You’ll have to take the long way back there.”

Thorvir nodded. “I can lead them, Great Lady,” the Knight told the goddess. “It’s down below the
Earth, and we can follow Yggdrasil’s spiral ramp.”

“It is a very dangerous place, My children,” Freya warned. “Please accept My blessings before you
go.” The goddess’s hands glowed brightly for a moment, then each party member felt at peace, and
their spirits were raised. Father Drengr stood a little straighter, the effects of the wine falling off
him.

He stepped forward hesitantly, and humbly knelt at the goddess’s feet. “I apologize for my behavior,
Great Freya. In my piety I was blind to the truth that all gods and goddess should be respected
equally.”
 Ragnarok Usurped 53

Freya giggled, quite girlishly. “Well, it’s perfectly fine to respect ME just a LITTLE more than the
others,” she told the priest conspiratorially, and gave him a wink.
 Ragnarok Usurped 54

CHAPTER NINE

The trip down the spiraling ramp was long and tedious. The ramp itself was absolutely devoid of
life, except for the occasional visit from Ratatosk, running his age-old errand. Tyrfingr sang and told
stories to pass the time, and helpfully called up some old tales of the Dwarves.

“The race of Dwarves, or the Dvergar as they call themselves, is as old as man. When we were first
learning to pick up sticks and rocks to defend ourselves, the Dvergar were mining metals and
forging armor and weapons. Smithing and forging; those are their skills, and they have honed them
over the eons.

“Dwarves are also expert gem-cutters and they have been known to make beautiful jewelry. Many
of the gods themselves wear pieces of Dvergar jewels. Men have craved their treasures ever since
the two races chanced across each other.

“Now the Dvergar may be excellent metal-crafters, but they lack the skills of hunting. Living
underground, they cannot grow their own food. For century upon century, the Dwarves relied on
what underground creatures they could trap for their meat, and the fungus and mosses that grew
underground. But when the first Dwarf broke through the crust of earth, and discovered the sunlit
world we Humans live on, he learned to crave our foods and drinks.

“That is when the Dwarves and Humans began trading.

“Men who owned Dwarf-forged weapons quickly rose in power over the others. Those Humans
smart and dexterous enough to learn the Dwarves’ techniques in metal crafting became rich. But no
Human-crafted weapon could approach the magnificence of those made by the Dvergar.

“There were those Dvergar who were not content with mining and smithing. They became
something more. They engineered new devices, the likes of which the Nine Worlds had never seen.
Intricate crossbows, miniature toys that could dance and jump, clocks to count the passing of hours;
these were some of the grand inventions of the Dwarves. These lessons the Dvergar also passed
onto the Humans.”

Something still tickled the back of Vakr’s mind during Tyrfingr’s story. Tickling… ticking… clocks!

“Clockworks!” he yelled triumphantly.

“What?” Kolgríma asked him, looking at him strangely.

“Loki’s simulacrum! It ticked like a clock!” he answered, smugly. “We HAVE to be headed in the right
direction.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hrefna grumbled. “The deeper we go, the colder and damper it gets. We can’t
build fires. I’m TIRED.”

“I am too,” agreed Marína. “We’ve been going non-stop for hours. Can we stop for the day?”

Tyrfingr and Vakr looked at each other and nodded. It was time for a rest. “Thorvir, is there a place
nearby we can rest for the day?”
 Ragnarok Usurped 55

Thorvir brought the travelers to the next platform off the ramp. This area of the Tree seemed more
cave-like than they were used to seeing within Yggdrasil. Small, scurrying creatures rustled around
the floor of the chamber, and Vakr swore he could hear bats fluttering above them.

“We’re in the roots of the World Tree now,” Thorvir told them. “We’re actually below the surface of
the Earth.” The Knight took mage-lights out of his pack and shook them to activate them, setting
them around the perimeter of their encampment.

Vakr provided the group with a hot meal by boiling a pot of soup with a small flame spell. They
would burn no wood within the Tree. The soup, and the warmth it gave, was heavenly. After the
dinner, the group rested, chatting quietly. The travelers were all too tired to stay awake for long,
and by ones and pairs they prepared their bedrolls for the night.

Hrefna helped Thorvir shrug himself out of his armor. The Knight stretched gratefully with the
weight of the steel off his shoulders. He settled down onto his bedroll, and patted on the one next to
him for Hrefna to join him. Hrefna nestled down into the crook of his arm, and he sighed, contented.
“It’s been too long since I held you here,” he told her.

Hrefna nodded, silently. Her unbound hair tickled his nose. From out of nowhere, she began to sob.

“Hrefna? Love? What’s wrong?” Thorvir whispered in concern.

“I can’t believe… I can’t believe I FORGOT you,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t even know who you
were!” The feelings she’d been keeping within her since Freya healed her mind and memory
bubbled up, unchecked.

“Oh Hrefna,” Thorvir told her softly, “It’s going to be fine, love.” He stroked her hair. “I can’t believe I
lost you at all. If I find the bastard who did this to you…” he let his threat trail off, and kissed the
völva on the forehead instead.

Hrefna cried a bit more, and her breath hitched in her throat as she slowly calmed herself. Thorvir
held her protectively, petting her hair, until her breathing evened out, and he knew she had finally
fallen asleep.

The following day, the travelers arrived at the entrance to Svartalfheim. The chamber looked like
any other chamber in the Tree, except for huge, black, wrought-iron gates which stood at the back
of the chamber. They looked distinctly out of place in the Tree where everything was organic. The
gates were straight-edged and sharp, and looked as though they only blocked another portion of the
wall.

"Through here," Thorvir showed them. He grabbed hold of one iron handle and pulled on the door.
It was heavy, but well-tended, and the door swung open, revealing a blank wall.

Without a word, Thorvir stepped up to and through the solid wood. Hrefna followed close behind
him, and one by one, the adventurers entered Svartalfheim.

The world of the Dwarves and Dark Elves was bathed in perpetual gloom. There was enough light
here to see, but shadows were deep and shrouded everything. The group seemed to be in an
 Ragnarok Usurped 56

endless cavern. Rather than plants and trees, stalagmites and crystal formations cluttered the
ground. There was a dark beauty in this world.

"We're in the realm of the Dark Elves at the moment," Thorvir informed them. "We will have to be
wary while we travel to see the Dwarves. The Dwarves don't mind Humans and are usually neutral.
The Dark Elves are another story entirely."

"Is there a faster way than walking?" Marína asked, a little nervously.

"Not unless you can tame and ride a nightmare," Thorvir answer grimly. "That's what passes for
transportation to the Dark Elves."

Nightmares were terrifying beasts, somewhat like horses, but seemingly made of shadows
themselves. They were carnivorous and dangerous. Vakr had only heard of them in fairy-tales, but
after the sights he had seen, he was willing to accept them as real.

The group spent several hours travelling through the forest of stalagmites, until they came to the
shore of a vast underground lake. Across the water, they could see the glow of torchlight. Sound
echoed in the cavern, and they could hear the murmuring of what must be a large city across the
lake.

"That is Nidaveller, the Dvergar city. That's where we need to go," Thorvir told them.

"Great," Kolgríma said wryly. "I come from the desert. I don't swim very well."

Vakr looked around him. "And there seems to be a distinct lack of trees to make a raft," he added
sarcastically.

"Why don't we walk?" asked Tyrfingr mildly.

"I'm afraid that skill belongs to the gods only," Galmann told the skald.

"But Vakr," Tyrfingr insisted, "Aren't you a Master of Elements? Isn't there anything you can do with
water so we could walk on it?"

Vakr finally got the hint. "Ah," he said, "I get it." The wizard touched the butt of his staff to the
surface of the water and intoned a few words in an ancient language. Ice spread out from the butt of
his staff and extended several yards into the lake. He rapped on the ice experimentally, and
pronounced the ice safe to walk on. The party stepped onto the ice floe and Vakr froze another floe
of ice before them. They made their way carefully across the deep, black waters of the lake. At about
midpoint, Vakr took to melting the floe behind them with a small burst of heat.

"Why are you doing that, wizard?" asked Father Drengr curiously.

"I really don't like the idea of being followed," Vakr explained.

The travel was painfully slow, but safe and worry-free. The lake seemed devoid of life, and was so
still it seemed dead, itself. As they approached the Dwarven city, the adventurers could see great
walls carved out of stone, adorned with bronze panels which glowed in firelight. The panels
 Ragnarok Usurped 57

depicted Dwarven heroes, wielding great weapons. As the party neared the edge of the lake, a
patrol of Dwarven soldiers marched along the shore to meet them.

"Stop there, Humans," the leader of the Dwarves called to them. He was a short, stocky fighter who
wore the most fantastic armor Vakr had ever seen. Every inch of the gleaming metal was etched and
carved with runes and sigils. It looked like it could readily stop a crossbow bolt. Vakr decided he
wouldn't be able to move if he wore anything like it. "What is your business here?"

Tyrfingr greeted the warrior. "Hail Captain. We need to speak to someone who knows about
clockworks. We have a puzzle we need to solve."

"A puzzle, you say?" The Dwarf chuckled. "I know just the Dvergar to help you. But how do I know
you're not spies sent by the Dark Elves?"

Tyrfingr thought about that for a moment. "If we were spies, wouldn't we have been less obvious
about our approach?"

"Perhaps," agreed the Captain. "But maybe this is all a ruse to let you get into the city unescorted."

"No, Captain," Hrefna chimed in, "We're willing to have an escort. We want no trouble."

"Then come ashore, and I'll take you to see Otr. He should be able to help you solve your puzzle."

The streets of Nidaveller were wide and straight as arrows. All the buildings in the Dvergar city
were perfectly straight-edged with utterly precise angles. The perfection had an almost alien beauty
to it, compared to the ramshackle towns the Humans were used to. All the buildings were
constructed of stone and metal, as wood had to be imported from the world of the Humans.

Hrefna spoke with the Captain. "How do you survive in perpetual darkness?" she asked him.

The stocky fighter shrugged. "How do you survive in the blinding light?" he asked her. "We're used
to it. We were born to it. Our people have always lived underground. We see daylight when we trek
to your world, Midgard. But it's always been as strange to us as the darkness must be to you."

Loud, boisterous singing could be heard down a slightly narrower street, and Tyrfingr looked at the
Captain questioningly. He Captain grinned. "The mead-hall. We make some of the best mead and
beer you'll ever taste."

Tyrfingr smacked his lips. "That could be a treat," he suggested.

Marína smacked him lightly in the arm. "Later," she told him firmly. "Business first."

"Yes Dear," he replied meekly.

The Captain laughed and nudged Hrefna. "Humans and Dvergar aren't so different after all!"

Soon the group was standing before a shop with a sign overtop written in sharp Dwarven runes.
"This is it," the Captain told them. "Otr's toy store." He ushered them inside.

The store itself was brightly lit and neat shelves displayed unimaginable items. Kolgríma, incapable
of stopping herself, started investigating everything. Vakr was right behind her.
 Ragnarok Usurped 58

"OTR!" the Captain's voice boomed. "Company!"

A wizened little Dwarf shuffled out of the back of the store. He was wearing jeweler’s goggles, which
made his eyes look huge, and his white hair and beard were unkempt and wild.

"Ahh, Captain Dvalk," he said in a sing-song voice. "Here for more toys for your children?"

"Not today, friend," Dvalk replied. "I brought you visitors from Midgard."

Kolgríma had gingerly touched a small metal replica of some sort of bird. Suddenly it burst into life
and began piping a glorious birdcall. She jumped back and said, "How do I turn it off?"

"Touch it again," the Toymaker told her. "The heat from your fingers activates it."

Kolgríma tapped the bird on the head and it fell silent and still.

"Is it magic?" asked Vakr, intrigued.

"Magic?" Otr scoffed. "It's engineering! It's mechanics! I have no need of magic. It's skill that creates
these toys."

"Would you be able to make a doll?" Tyrfingr asked. "A life-sized doll that could walk and talk?"

"Of course," Otr shrugged. "They're my best sellers. Care to see one?"

He ambled his way to the back of the store and came out, holding the hand of what looked like a
young Dvergar child, although she was entirely made of metal.

"Mazie, say hello," Ort told the doll.

"Hello!" she piped in a girlish voice. "Would you like to play?"

The doll walked into the centre of the fascinated group and curtsied. "My name is Mazie," she said.
"I like to dance!"

"Unbelievable!" Vakr said, squatting down to look at the doll.

"She accepts various voice commands," Otr explained. "She can say fifty different phrases and play
simple games."

The doll was doing a little jig and humming some music to accompany herself. "Dance with me!" she
said.

"Mazie, go to sleep," Otr told her. The doll sat on the ground and closed her metal eyes. She was still.

"Would a Dvergar be able to create a doll that someone could mistake for a living creature?"
Tyrfingr asked carefully, watching the little toymaker.

"Hmm?" the Toymaker said. "Maybe at a distance. They're made of metal you see. Once you got
close enough, you'd know they weren't real."
 Ragnarok Usurped 59

"What if you could... cover them with skin?" Hrefna asked.

Otr shuddered. "That sounds awful!" he told them. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Possibly to put people more at ease," Vakr mused. "To make the doll seem more lifelike and less...
machinelike."

"Well, you're asking the wrong Dvergar," Otr told them. "When those people at the Reginaudr
Corporation suggested I do something like that, I outright refused."

"What... WHAT?" Tyrfingr said.

"The Reginaudr Corporation... you should know it," Otr said. "That was the last time I was visited by
Humans. They wanted me to produce dolls for them... female dolls they called, umm, what was it?"

"Äsvor?" Father Drengr asked, incredulously.

Otr snapped his fingers. "That was it. They wanted to make these female dolls to use as workers to
deal with the public. Wanted them to look Human. I said 'Toys are toys and Humans are Humans.
People should know what they're dealing with.' The Reginaudr representatives weren't too happy
with me, but they still paid me lots of gold for the plans!"

"Would the plans include specifications for the dolls to create teleports?" asked Kolgríma.

"...what is a teleport?" Otr asked, confused.

"It's a type of magic," Hrefna explained, assuming the Dwarves used a different word for it. "That
allows you to go from place to place instantaneously, without crossing through the distance
between."

"Oh, well that explains it," Otr said. "Of course the plans didn't include that."

"Why not?" asked Brother Galmann. "That's what they use the Äsvor for!"

The toymaker shrugged. "Then they added that feature afterwards. Dvergar don't use magic."

"You don't?" Marína asked, surprised. "No healers, or mages at all?"

"No," confirmed Captain Dvalk. "When the gods created the Dvergar, they gave us minds for
engineering, but not for magic. That's for you Humans... and the Elves, of course."

"They DID give us the Runes," Otr reminded Dvalk. "That's a kind of magic."

"That's different," argued Dvalk. "The magic comes from the Runes themselves, not from us." The
toymaker nodded in agreement.

"So how would you make a metal doll that could perform magic?" Thorvir asked the little Dwarf.

"I couldn't, I just told you that," Otr said crabbily. "Only living things can use magic."
 Ragnarok Usurped 60

"This is really very disturbing," Tyrfingr said pensively. "I think we need to go speak to the
President of the Reginaudr Corporation!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 61

CHAPTER TEN

Like any large town, Nidaveller had a wayfarer's inn, though it was more often filled with travelling
Dvergar workers than Humans. Nidaveller was not the only Dwarven city in Svartalfheim, just the
largest.

Captain Dvalk took the travelers to the inn and helped them make arrangements to rest for what he
called the night. The only thing that allowed the group of adventurers to know it was getting late
was their own fatigue and the many intricate clocks found all over the city.

"It sort of makes Bretland look sad, doesn't it?" Galmann said thoughtfully. "Here we think that we
are the height of technological civilization, and really, everything we know we learned from the
Dvergar."

The inn was warm and cozy. The fireplace was stoked with coal rather than wood, which changed
the typical scent of an inn. Instead of wood smoke, bodies and beer, it was coal fire, bodies and beer.

Tyrfingr happily set himself down on a bench and ordered a jug of mead as well as a pitcher of beer.
Marína looked at him disapprovingly, and he said helplessly, "When will I get the chance to taste
them again?" She shook her head, exasperated.

Dwarven musicians played an interesting tune on the strangest instruments Tyrfingr had ever seen.
They seemed to be bladders filled with air with many pipes sticking out of them. They made an
unusual bass drone while the players piped the melody over top. The barmaid, a buxom young
Dwarf girl, told him the instruments were called bagpipes. Marína took one look at Tyrfingr and
said, "Not on your LIFE!"

Hrefna looked over at Thorvir and grinned. The knight grinned back. It was far too amusing to see
the look of despair on Tyrfingr's face.

"They'll get over it," Hrefna said. "It just takes some settling out."

The Dwarven cuisine was very different to the travelers; Dwarves used herbs and spices in unusual
combinations. Everything was delicious though, and Tyrfingr pronounced the beer and mead just as
good as Captain Dvalk had promised. In fact, he pronounced it loudly, drunkenly, and in song.

Watching the tall Human singing along with the pipers was too much for Kolgríma. She started
laughing and couldn't stop. Eventually, Vakr took hold of her hand and dragged her into the open
space in the middle of the dining room to dance, just to quiet her down.

Kolgríma tried to teach Vakr a couple of lively jig steps, and he gamely followed her lead. He did
quite well for a beginner. Soon, Hrefna had Thorvir up and the four of them jigged to the lively pipe
music and Tyrfingr's singing. Marína just sat on the bench, shaking her head and laughing at their
antics, until Brother Galmann politely asked her to dance as well. She giggled and blushed, but
allowed herself to be persuaded. Drengr actually smiled and tapped his foot in time to the music.

Suddenly, a Dvergar warrior burst through the front doors of the inn, calling, "To arms! The Svartalf
are attacking! To the Southern gates!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 62

Instantly, Dwarves who seconds ago looked too drunk to stand snapped to attention and gathered
their arms from the barkeeper. They jammed their helmets onto their heads and ran out the door in
the direction of the Southern gates. The pipers faltered and the music died off in a groan of the
bagpipes' drones.

Thorvir was gathering his sword from the barkeep and Hrefna said, "Do you really think we should
get involved?"

"I think they're attacking because of us, so yes, we should get involved," the Knight answered her
grimly.

"Damned Jotuns probably told them we were coming," growled Vakr as he grabbed his staff.

"Or they just saw us crossing the lake," said Hrefna. "We weren't exactly inconspicuous."

Marína spoke a quick prayer to remove the effects of the alcohol from her drunken husband. He
shook his head a couple times to clear it and said, "Right! Let's go see what we're up against."

They all readied themselves to join the Dwarven warriors, when Hrefna looked around and said,
"Wait! Where's Kolgríma?"

"Sneaking," Vakr informed the völva. "It's what she does best."

The group hurried down to the Southern gates. Voices bellowed from every direction, and there
was the clash of steel on steel.

"I hope they haven't breached the gates!" Tyrfingr panted as they ran. "Hopefully the Dwarves can
keep them out."

When the group of adventurers reached the gates, they saw that the Dwarves would lose the gate in
moments. Dark-elf wizards had frozen many of the stalwart warriors with spells of ice and snow.
Marína and Drengr quickly used counter-spells on as many of the Dwarves as they could reach. As
they warmed back to mobility, Vakr began a storm of his own, bringing lightning bolts crashing
down on the tall, slender Elves on the far side of the gate.

Hrefna uncoiled her whip from her side and yelled to Tyrfingr, "Play our song Tyr!"

The skald pulled his guitar off his back and began playing a deep, powerful battle march. Hrefna
stood near him and danced, using all of her skill. Her magical powers meshed with his, and a
shimmering dome surrounded them, their friends and many of the Dwarves near the gate. The
Elves threw magic bolts and spells, but none penetrated the shield of musical energy. The Dwarves
cried a battle cry and began shooting hails of crossbow bolts into the advancing Elves.

One observant Elf noticed that the bolts could penetrate the shield with no difficulty, and signaled
his archers to aim at the dancing duo. Intent on her dance, Hrefna didn't see the falling arrows. Just
as the rain of lethal arrows was about to hit her, Thorvir knocked the girl from her feet and covered
them both with his shield.

Tyrfingr, however, was not so lucky.

 Ragnarok Usurped 63

His music ended abruptly as he fell to the ground, pierced in the shoulder and thigh with the deadly
arrows. The magical shield faltered and fell.

Marína saw her husband fall, and began running towards him, terror in her eyes. Her path was
blocked by the Dwarven crossbowmen however, and she fought her way around them.

Just as the Elven mages prepared to pummel them with more ice spells, Kolgríma burst out of the
ground with a triumphant howl and slashed around herself in a frenzy with two wicked hand
blades. The mages fell back, smashing into each other and the archers in their pain and terror.

"Who's next?" the Assassin asked, a maniacal glint in her eye. The Elves around her fled in panic,
tripping over the bodies of their fallen comrades.

Kolgríma spat on the ground in disgust. "Babies," she complained. She shook a toothpick out of its
case and popped it into her mouth. She grinned as she watched the Dwarven warriors pour out of
the gates and chase down the retreating Dark Elves.

Drengr and Galmann were attempting to heal as many of the wounded Dwarves as they could, using
the powers that Odin granted them. Marína, however, only had eyes for her beloved skald.

"We'll have to push those arrows through," Thorvir was explaining to Marína. "They're barbed and
will cause him more pain and damage if we try to pull them out."

"Ouch," said Tyrfingr weakly, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, don't be a suck," Hrefna told him. "You've taken far worse than this in bar fights."

"I seem to recall that you were usually the cause of those fights," Tyrfingr reminded her. He took at
deep breath at Thorvir's command and closed his eyes tightly as the Knight pushed the barbed
arrow through his shoulder and out the back.

Marína's hands immediately found the wound and began closing it through her prayers. She was
shaking. She had healed before, but never wounds deliberately caused.

Tyrfingr gasped a great gulp of air and said, "Ok, ready." Thorvir pushed strongly and pulled the
arrow from the back of the skald's thigh. Marína immediately stopped the flow of blood and began
closing the wound.

A moment or two later, and Tyrfingr was feeling whole again. He looked morosely down at his
breeches. "These were my favorite pants," he complained.

"Well, don't look at your shirt then," grinned Hrefna. "Those stains will NEVER come out."

"I'm afraid that my commanding officer wants to ask you exactly why the Svartalf would attack us
over your visit," Captain Dvalk explained as he ushered the group back into town. "We don't take
kindly to Nidaveller being attacked and want to know what you've done to antagonize them."

"But we helped you," argued Vakr. "We fought with you!"

 Ragnarok Usurped 64

"And I'm sure he'll take that into account," agreed the Captain. "But he still wants to speak with
you."

Glumly, the adventurers followed behind the Dwarven warrior. Tyrfingr hoped they wouldn't be
detained, now that they knew where to go to continue their investigations. He was eager to move
on.

Marína was being extremely solicitous. When Tyrfingr had been wounded, she was terrified. She
didn't want to let the skald out of her sight, in case something even more awful happened to him.
She held onto his hand with a death grip, and couldn't seem to stop shaking.

Kolgríma was bouncing with leftover adrenalin. "That was FUN!" she kept repeating. Her eyes were
bright with excitement. "I'm used to sneaking in and killing one at a time... that was... FUN!" she said
again.

Drengr shook his head. "Child, you did well, but I'm not sure Odin would approve of your happiness
in the job you did."

"Shows what you know," Kolgríma muttered. "Odin loves war and battle. So does Thor! So do all the
Aesir!"

Vakr couldn't help but grin at Kolgríma's excitement. There was something very thrilling about the
battle, but the fact that he enjoyed it as well was somewhat worrying. He didn't want to lose sight of
their actual mission with these little skirmishes. Vakr was sure there would be plenty more
bloodshed ahead.

The Commander of the Dwarven guard was named Dakk. He had steely eyes, and never seemed to
crack a smile, which made Tyrfingr a bit uneasy. He was used to people smiling back at him, but the
stoic Dwarf wasn't interested in playing social games.

"Why?" was all he asked. He looked at Thorvir when he said it.

Thorvir shrugged helplessly. "We have no idea Sir. We saw no Dark Elves on our way to Nidaveller.
No signs of life at all. We didn't antagonize the Elves, nor did we touch any of their belongings. The
only thing that I can surmise is that they were informed of our mission and were sent to delay or
stop us."

"And what is this mission?" growled the Commander.

"We are sent by the gods of Aesir to prevent Ragnarok!" Father Drengr blurted out, before Tyrfingr
could catch his eye and mime to him to keep silent.

Commander Dakk's eyes swiveled coldly towards the priest. "Ragnarok." He said the word with a
tone of skepticism.

"Yes Sir," continued Thorvir, unwilling to let the fanatic priest continue the discussion with the
Commander. "Ragnarok is close to beginning. Loki has been freed. We're trying to deduce his
plans."

"Freed, you say?" Dakk said sharply. "When did this occur? What of his bonds?"
 Ragnarok Usurped 65

"Our best guess is that he was freed over a year ago, Sir," the Knight informed the Dwarven warrior.
"We, and the Aesir, were tricked into believing that he was still our captive, but we were wrong. He
had been replaced with a simulacrum."

"Tricked... by a doll? Is that why you were speaking to the Toymaker?" Commander Dakk asked.

"Yes Sir," the Knight replied honestly. "We had to touch the simulacrum ourselves to believe it
wasn't real. But Otr believes that no Dvergar created such a device. It was too realistic and required
skills that the Toymaker believes are beyond Dwarven knowledge."

"Hurm," the Commander said, tapping his fingers on his desk. "Do you think it likely we'll be
attacked again if I get you lot out of my city?"

"I rather doubt it, Sir," Thorvir assured him. "I think that the Svartalf are probably marshalling their
forces to join with Loki and don't want to lose more of their warriors to your excellent defenses."

"Good," the Commander said decisively. "I'll have Captain Dvalk take your people to the surface. I
certainly hope you got what you came for. You may go."

Tyrfingr exhaled a huge sigh of relief once they were out of the Commander's office. "I was worried
there for a minute," the skald told Thorvir, looking sideways at the high priest.

"Honesty will prevail," Drengr said defensively.

"Perhaps," Thorvir said mildly. "But being so blunt could create more antagonism than aid. Not
everyone is as convinced as you are... as WE are... of the magnitude of what is happening."

"Big words," Hrefna whispered into the Knight's ear. "Why so formal?"

The Knight grinned and whispered back, "Because it confuses the Hel out of him, and I love to see
him squirm."

"I'm still not sure how this is supposed to work, friend Dwarf," Drengr was saying. "You want us to
go deeper underground to get above ground?"

"Exactly," Dvalk nodded. "There are several routes to the surface, but this one is secure. You won't
have to worry about going outside of the city walls to take a surface tunnel, so the Svartalf won't
attack you. Of course there is..." he let his words trail off.

Vakr sighed. "What is there? Giant rats? Killer bats? Acidic slugs?"

"Well," admitted the guard captain, "we had a problem for a while with undead."

"Undead," Tyrfingr repeated, flatly.

"Yes, you know, animated corpses that..."

"I KNOW what undead are," the skald interrupted. "I thought you said that Dwarves didn't use
magic. How were they reanimated?"
 Ragnarok Usurped 66

The stocky Dwarf shrugged. "I don't know. Probably the Dark Elves. Many of the tunnels
interconnect. They may have found a way in once. We cleared the undead out and sealed off a
couple of openings. It should be safe, I just wanted to warn you."

"So you won't be joining us?" Galmann asked the Dwarf.

"Not when we're in a state of alert from the Elven attack," the Dwarf replied. "The tunnel is fairly
straight-forward. Any branch-offs are either short dead-ends or lead back to the main tunnel. If you
keep to the widest tunnel, you'll eventually reach stairs that will take you up."

"And there's no light in these tunnels?" Kolgríma asked.

"Well, no," the Dwarf told them. "I'll make sure you have torches."

The adventurers readied their equipment and lit their torches from one of the flaming street-lamps.

When all was ready, Dvalk took hold of a huge iron ring in the hinged grate in the middle of the
cobblestone road. He heaved upwards and showed them the way down into the tunnels.

Thorvir lead the way, a torch in one hand, the other on the pommel of his sword. The stairs down
were narrow and damp, and not made for the step of a Human's foot. They made their way
downwards awkwardly.

The tunnel was rounded and about six paces across. The only place in the tunnel that Thorvir could
stand upright was the very centre. The walls were beaded with moisture and moss grew in patches
here and there. The corridor looked very straight with no branches they could see as yet.

"Good luck," Dvalk called down to them. "Oh, and you were right about the rats, wizard!" They
heard the heavy clang of the grate falling back over their exit.

"Great. Just lovely," muttered Vakr. He took a tighter grip on his staff and followed Thorvir with the
others.

The way seemed endless. Time meant little under the ground. Nobody felt much like talking, or
singing. Distant sounds of skittering feet and the occasional squeak kept them edgy, but they never
saw a rat.

"Look," whispered Hrefna to Tyrfingr. She was pointing in the shadows just out of range of their
torchlight. Something round and pale lay there.

"A skull?" wondered Tyrfingr. They got a little closer and saw that it was indeed a skull, splintered
across the forehead. It looked as though it may once have belonged to an Elf, as it was elongated
and the eye sockets seemed unusually large.

"I wonder why the Dwarves wouldn't keep these tunnels cleaner?" mused Galmann, nudging the
skull with his foot. Several black spiders spilled out of one of the eye sockets and Hrefna shrieked
and backed up sharply into Vakr.

"Oof!" he gasped as she knocked the wind out of him. "Hrefna, they're only.... spi...."
 Ragnarok Usurped 67

As one, the group turned in the direction the wizard was staring. In the darkness of a side-tunnel,
eight eyes glittered, reflecting the torchlight. What was unnerving was the fact that the eyes were
huge and on the level of their own.

"Gods," squeaked Hrefna, shoving back harder against Vakr.

A long, segmented, hairy leg probed tentatively into the circle of torchlight. It was as thick as a
man's arm.

"We'd better kill it," Thorvir said. "I don't want that thing BEHIND us."

"Hrefna, get OFF me," Vakr said, pushing the catatonic völva out of his way. "Clear a path, damn it!"

The group parted to the side walls and the wizard muttered an incantation while pointing his staff
at the great, glowing eyes.

A huge gout of flame burst from the end of the staff, momentarily blinding them all. It splashed
against the huge arachnid, which squealed in pain and terror and lurched against the narrow side
tunnel wall. A horrible scent of scorched hair filled the tunnel. The spider was still ablaze, and
shrieking, clawing at its ruined eyes with its front legs.

"Finish it Thorvir!" yelled Vakr, and the Knight smoothly drew his sword from its sheath. In a fluid
motion, he buried the blade to the hilt in the huge spider's head. The creature gurgled once more
and collapsed to the floor, still smoldering.

Hrefna had collapsed to her knees and was shuddering and whimpering. Tyrfingr and Marína went
to her to help her. Thorvir pulled his sword out of the monster's body, and looked at the smear of
black slime on his blade in disgust. He made a motion to wipe it off, and Kolgríma yelled, "No! Don't
touch it!"

She hurried over to him and gingerly sniffed at the ichor.

"Poison," she said succinctly. Startled, Thorvir handed her the blade. She took a small knife out of
her pouch and carefully scraped the fluid into a tiny bottle. When the bottle was full, she capped it
with great care, took a scrap of cloth from her pouch and wiped the blade clean, being sure not to
touch any of the sticky ooze. She dropped the rag onto the ground and set it ablaze with her torch.
"Don't inhale the smoke!" she warned them all. Everyone took a wary step backwards.

"Are you able to walk?" Marína asked Hrefna. The völva sniffled and nodded. Tyrfingr helped her to
her feet. He walked her over to Thorvir, who wrapped a protective arm around her.

"It's ok, love," he told her. "I'm sure it's not far now."

"I...HATE...spiders!" she growled through gritted teeth.

"Well, I'll squash them all for you, as long as you want me to," he said with a grin.

"Hey!" called Vakr. "I think it's safe to say that I did the most of the squashing!"

Hrefna giggled a little, and they made their way out of the long tunnel, towards the blessed daylight.
Ragnarok Usurped 68
 Ragnarok Usurped 69

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It made a certain amount of sense that the Dvergar tunnel lead to a rocky area near the city of
Bretland. Although not the industrial centre of Midgard, much of the technology that was developed
started in the City of Clocks. Most of the technology was originally Dwarven.

The group of adventurers was camped in a wayside inn near the city. Over dinner and a much
needed rest, they discussed their next steps.

"I doubt that walking into the Reginaudr offices and demanding to know the secrets to their
technology is going to work," Vakr said. "The Äsvor are their bread and butter, they'll never tell us
how they work."

"Somebody must know," Hrefna said. "Kolgríma, can you get your spies out there to see if anyone is
willing to sell information?"

Kolgríma grinned wolfishly. "I did that while you were bringing your packs upstairs," she told them.

"How resourceful," Tyrfingr replied, dryly.

"We ARE in a bit of a hurry," Drengr reminded the group. "Loki is out there somewhere. We can't
wait until the information trickles back to us. We need to know who made that simulacrum and
why."

"I know a way," Marína said quietly.

Tyrfingr looked at his lovely wife and beamed. "There's my girl! How do we do it?"

Marína looked at her husband gravely. "We steal an Äsvor. And then we dissect it."

"...Oh," Tyrfingr replied, dumbstruck. This was totally unlike the woman he thought he married.

"You're thinking of them as alive," Marína said to the skald. "They are not alive. They are machines.
The Äsvor are magic-using machines that look so much like real women that you just thought I was
discussing murder."

"Can't be done," Kolgríma said with finality in her voice.

"Why not?" Marína asked the Assassin, irritated.

"Don't you think people have tried? MY people have tried. Äsvor are programmed with safeguards.
If they're moved by someone without authorization, they just teleport away, then warp
somewhere."

"Any idea where?" Tyrfingr asked, as his wife fumed at her thwarted plans.

"Likely back to the Reginaudr Corporation to announce the breach of security," Kolgríma answered.
"We're not sure though."

"If we could warp WITH them," Vakr started to muse aloud.

 Ragnarok Usurped 70

"...Then we'd probably wind up surrounded by security guards," Kolgríma finished for him firmly.
"NOT a good idea."

"Could we disable one?" Tyrfingr asked. "Could we... shut it off? Kill it?"

"We've never really found a way," Kolgríma answered. "The merest touch causes the teleportation."

"That's not true," Hrefna argued. "You have to pay the Äsvor. They take your money into their
hands and pocket it. So you CAN touch them."

"How do they know you've paid them the right way?" asked Vakr excitedly. "How do they know you
gave them enough coins?"

Kolgríma shrugged. "By weight. I've tried stiffing them and they won't open a portal unless the
exact amount of coins is put into their hands."

Vakr grinned. "What if they THOUGHT you were giving them money... and you were really giving
them something else, like, oh... a small explosive?"

Kolgríma's mouth widened into her wolfish grin as she thought about the idea. "I imagine she'd put
that pouch filled with explosives into her pocket, wouldn't she?"

"I think it's an interesting experiment," Vakr said smugly. "Why don't we give it a try?"

"And I happen to have a bag full of fireworks, fresh from Ekerö," Hrefna said. "How... handy!"

"How is it going to ignite?" Hrefna whispered to Thorvir. They were hiding in some bushes,
watching Galmann approach the Äsvor.

"Vakr apparently created some sort of time-delay fire spell," Thorvir said. "I didn't really
understand what he was saying, but he says it will go off thirty seconds after Galmann portals
away."

"So this should really just stun her long enough for us to get the proper binding spells on her?"
Hrefna asked.

"Stop saying 'her'," Thorvir begged. "I can't do this if you keep acting like she's alive."

"Sorry," Hrefna apologized.

Galmann had reached the Äsvor, and handed over a small pouch. They had added a few coins so
that it would jingle realistically, but had carefully weighed out the package so it was exactly the
weight of the proper amount of coins. A few seconds later and Galmann stepped through the warp
portal to the town of Oslo. They expected him to return a few moments later, but had to act as soon
as the mini-explosion went off.

It was dark outside and nobody was on the streets of Bretland except for a few sleepy guards,
posted near the exits of town and well away from the Äsvor. Hrefna hoped that the firecrackers
going off wouldn't be loud enough to wake the people living near the town square. She breathlessly
 Ragnarok Usurped 71

counted down the seconds, until she heard muffled popping noises, and saw the Äsvor stiffen and
fall to the ground heavily. She and Thorvir immediately ran from their bushes towards the fallen
Äsvor. Vakr and Kolgríma came from the opposite direction, with Tyrfingr and Marína making it
there from between them.

The Äsvor's body was far heavier than it looked. It took all six of the conspirators to drag it off into
the shadows, where Drengr hurriedly cast some spells over the inert body to keep it from casting
any spells. "Inside?" Tyrfingr asked brusquely, and the priest nodded his head. They half-dragged,
half-carried the stunned Äsvor into stable beside them and prepared for their distasteful task.
Thorvir stood lookout to make sure they were not disturbed, and Marína took over. This close to
the Äsvor, in the close confines of the stable, they could all hear the curious ticking that gave her the
semblance of life. Marína's deft hands pressed down the spine of the creature, until with a little
sound of discovery, she found and pressed a button. The ticking slowed, then ceased.

"I don't know if the safeguards are still in place," Marína warned them. "It can't move, but we don't
know how it's casting spells. Let's open it up."

Marína and Kolgríma pulled the perky little uniform off the human-sized doll to discover that the
Äsvor was not built to look exactly like a human. It had no nipples or navel, and her legs met in a
smooth vee of skin. The Äsvor had no human genitals. It truly was a large, moving doll. Marína
breathed a sigh of relief. Now the dissection would be easier for her.

Kolgríma took a sharp dagger from her boot-sheath and slid it through the Äsvor's skin along where
her breastbone should have been. They all heard the sound of metal-on-metal as she did the dirty
work.

There was no blood. The skin peeled easily off a metal casing that made up the body of the doll. "I
don't see any openings to get in," Kolgríma said to Marína.

"If you boys could be so kind as to flip it over?" Marína asked. Vakr, Tyrfingr and Thorvir grabbed
hold of one stiff arm, and flipped the Äsvor over onto its face.

Again, Kolgríma slit open the skin covering the true body of the Äsvor, along its spine. This time,
they found a hinged panel.

"It seems like the skin is made to be replaced if there is maintenance necessary," Marína mused. She
opened the hatch to find a mass of cogs and springs. Each piece was made with great care and
precision. Everyone was so intrigued with the workings of the Äsvor, that nobody noticed Vakr
swallow sickly and walk towards Thorvir at the door.

"Look at the schematic drawing on the inside of the panel," Kolgríma crowed gleefully. "See?
There's a way to open its head too!"

Kolgríma and Marína pulled the Äsvor's wig up and over its metal skull, to find yet another panel in
the back of the doll's head. Kolgríma laughed and opened the panel. Marína let out a strangled
scream and scrambled back against Tyrfingr's legs.

"They DIDN'T," Father Drengr said in utter disgust. He peered into the skull of the doll to see the
very-human-looking brain inside, still pulsing with life.
 Ragnarok Usurped 72

"Is it human?" Vakr asked from his post near the door. He and Thorvir had looked over to see what
was causing Marína's hysteria when they too saw the brain inside the Äsvor's skull.

"It looks like it," answered Hrefna.

"How does it stay alive in there?" asked Thorvir.

"I don't know," Marína answered, moving back closer to look at the brain again.

"It looks like it's connected to the machine with wires," observed Kolgríma. "It might be drawing
some sort of energy from the machine itself?"

"That's a question we never asked," Thorvir said. "What powers the machine?"

"We should have asked Otr," Kolgríma admitted.

"Maybe the brain actually powers the machine," Vakr said thickly. "But I know who we should ask."

"Who?" Tyrfingr said, turning towards the wizard. "And how do you know who to ask?"

Vakr pointed silently to the inside of the panel on the Äsvor's back. Underneath the schematic
drawing there was some print.

For service of biological components, contact Luna Agrisdotter, Biolabs, Manaw.

Only Kolgríma understood the sick look on Vakr's face as he pointed to the disabled Äsvor.

Galmann returned at that moment, to see the scene of horror the rest had already witnessed. "That
is an abomination," Galmann said. His eyes flashed and it was plain to the rest of the group that he
was barely keeping his temper in check. "We need to go speak to this Luna person immediately." He
cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"No!" Vakr said, frightened. "No... I have to talk to her alone. None... none of you would understand
how the meld of flesh and machine was worked. I can probably grasp it..."

Kolgríma nodded suddenly. "Yes, I think Vakr needs to go alone. We don't want to overwhelm this
woman, or she'll clam right up." Vakr looked at Kolgríma thankfully.

"I could convince her to talk," Galmann said darkly.

Drengr put his hand on the monk's shoulder. "Brother, find your center. I am outraged too, and this
is the very evil we're trying to fight. But I doubt this woman is behind it all. She's merely another
tool. Let the wizard question her."

"I still have a portal tie to Manaw," Marína told Vakr. Priests could carry no more than two portal
ties in their minds, as the volume of information needed was immense. To learn a new portal tie, a
priest or priestess would need to forget one of the old ones.

"That's good," Tyrfingr said, "for I would like to point out that the Äsvor here was the only fast way
to get there otherwise. And she's not doing much spell-casting."
 Ragnarok Usurped 73

"She still seems to be functioning," Drengr said. "Why don't we tidy her up and put her back where
she belongs, and see if we can get her running again? We can do that while Vakr is gone. If we do
this right, nobody will be the wiser."

Marína, Kolgríma and Vakr stepped outside while the others started putting the Äsvor back
together.

"Whenever you're ready," Marína said, holding the blue gemstone in her hand.

Kolgríma put her arms around Vakr's neck and kissed him slowly and gently. "Take care of
yourself," she told him. Vakr nodded brusquely and held her tightly.

"I don't want to do this," he whispered to her.

"I know," she replied, "But who else among us could?" She kissed him again, quickly, this time, and
stepped out of his arms.

"I'm ready," Vakr said to Marína. The priestess prayed quietly and cast the stone onto the ground.
The strange water-ripple effect occurred, and Vakr stepped into the portal. Seconds later, he was
gone.
 Ragnarok Usurped 74

CHAPTER TWELVE

Professor Agrisdotter was consulting her clipboard as she walked into her lab. Another early
morning, another long day. She looked up, expecting to see her assistant in a crisp white lab coat.
Instead, a High Wizard stood there, in his full regalia, leaning against her immaculate workbench
with his arms crossed.

"Hello, Luna," he said.

Luna was startled, but regained her composure quickly. You didn't get as far in this industry as she
did by being easily flustered.

"Vakr. It's been a long time," she responded calmly. "What are you doing in my lab? Where is my
assistant?"

"I asked her to give us some time to talk," Vakr replied, answering both questions at once.

"And what do we need to talk about?" Luna asked lightly, turning to put her clipboard on her desk.
She used the time to think quickly about why he was here.

"I need to know your connection to the Reginaudr Corporation, for a start," the wizard told her.

"That's all?" she asked. "I work for them, obviously. I design the software for their robotic units."

Vakr shook his head. "Explain those terms. 'Software' and 'robotic unit.'"

Luna laughed lightly, slightly mocking. "That's right, it's not your field of expertise. We call the
Äsvor units 'robots.' We give them intelligence and magical ability through their 'software.'"

"You mean the brain," Vakr said darkly.

Luna looked at him sharply, "How do you know about that? That's our most closely guarded trade
secret!"

Vakr rubbed his temples with his fingers tiredly. "I'm not a complete country bumpkin Luna. There
are ways to learn these things. Tell me where you get them. The brains."

Luna shrugged. "Since you already know about them, I'll show you," she told him. "Follow me."

She led the wizard out of her lab, now thinking furiously. She couldn't allow him to leave the
building with the knowledge he already had. Luna also had to find out who else had this
information.

After descending several flights of stairs, the Professor led him into a huge, sterile, white room. On
rows of tables were large glass jars, thousands of them. In each jar was a brain, floating in a
greenish liquid.

"We grow them here," Luna told him. "We start with a donor brain from a recently deceased
individual. We just need a small slice of the original brain to grow a new one. It doesn't retain the
 Ragnarok Usurped 75

memories, but it does retain the skills of the original donor. So a mage would donate his magical
abilities, a swordsman his fighting skills..."

"Why so many?" Vakr said sickly, looking at the rows of jars.

"I don't question, I just grow and program what I'm told," Luna said testily.

"What does it mean when you say 'program'?" Vakr asked her.

"Once the brain is grown," Luna lectured, "I surgically implant it into its robot body. Then I teach
the brain its personality and functions. I also set in blocks to keep it from learning overmuch or
developing a sense of individuality. We don't want them to rebel." She stepped back towards the
door. "Have you seen enough?"

"Do you grow the skin too, that makes them look human?" he asked her.

Luna waved her hand dismissively. "That's for the apprentices. There's no skill involved in that."
She leaned back against the wall, pressing her shoulder into a red button. The door slammed shut
suddenly and a piercing siren began to blare.

"What did you DO Luna?" Vakr cried, taking a few steps towards her.

"Don't come closer Vakr," she growled. "Security guards are on their way. You've seen too much.
Now we need to figure out what to do with you."

"I don't like it," Tyrfingr said, worried. "He's been gone too long!"

It was long past mid-day and the party had not heard from Vakr. They had expected him back hours
ago. It had reached the point that something must be done.

"I'll go," offered Kolgríma. "I can sneak in and find out what's up, and get him out quickly and
quietly."

"That's an admirable idea," agreed Drengr. "You are best suited to the task."

"I'm not sure it's such a great idea," Tyrfingr argued. "We sent Vakr alone, and now look what's
happened."

"For all we know," Kolgríma said wryly, "He could just be catching up with his old girlfriend. Do you
want to interrupt that? Imagine the embarrassment!"

"Girlfriend?" Marína asked. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't he tell you?" Kolgríma said innocently. "Luna Agrisdotter is his old flame from the Mage
Academy. She ran off to become a Sage and left him behind."

"But if Luna is working for Loki, then... what if Vakr is..." Tyrfingr looked stricken.
 Ragnarok Usurped 76

"With Loki as well?" Kolgríma finished for the skald. "There's a good chance of it. I've known about
his ties to Luna since the start. I'm amazed he didn't share that information with you when he
discovered her part in this."

"Bring him back," Tyrfingr said wearily. "We need to talk to him and find out his intentions. He's my
oldest friend. I can't fathom that he'd be on Loki's side."

Kolgríma nodded, and Marína took her outside to warp her to Manaw.

"For the rest of us, we have to keep doing what we're doing. Waiting," Tyrfingr said with a sigh.

Vakr stood with his arms pinned behind his back by two large guards. The each held a dagger
against his kidneys, with the implicit threat that if he started casting a spell, he'd be dead in
seconds.

Luna sat on the edge of her desk, primly, looking down at him over the rims of her glasses. She had
a look of regret on her face.

"I'm sorry Vakr," she said with genuine sorrow in her voice. "I was warned a high wizard might
infiltrate the labs, but I didn't know it was going to be you."

"So let me go," he told the woman sitting before him. "You used to love me."

"I can't let you go. I've worked so hard to get here, I've given up so much. It would mean my own life
if I let you free," she told him, half-begging for forgiveness.

"Do you even KNOW what you're doing?" Vakr asked her. "You're helping bring about the end of
everything! You're helping begin Ragnarok."

"I am NOT," she said hotly, hopping off the desk. "I'm trying to help prevent Ragnarok from ever
happening!"

"And I suppose siding with Loki pays well too," Vakr said sarcastically.

"Yes, I am paid well for what I do," Luna agreed. "But that is NOT why I'm doing this."

Vakr heaved a sigh. "So why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

"I'm waiting... for my supervisor to come and speak with you. We need you to understand what it is
we're doing," Luna answered. "I... I don't want you to die Vakr."

"That's not what you said when you left me," he reminded the Professor. "I seem to recall you were
quite colorful with your description about how you wished I would die."

"I was wrong! I was jealous of your abilities! I knew I'd never be the wizard you were. You have
skills..." she began, then looked up, as her supervisor walked into the room.

"...That are essential to winning Ragnarok," Luna's supervisor finished. "That's why Tyrfingr wanted
you on his side. That's why we will have you on our side instead."

Vakr felt sick to his soul. "Kolgríma?" he said weakly.

 Ragnarok Usurped 77

Kolgríma leaned against Luna's desk, with her trademark toothpick between her teeth. She had
tossed a white lab coat over her clothes. She smiled condescendingly at Vakr.

"You knew... you knew the Loki simulacrum had already been placed," Vakr struggled to connect the
clues.

"Of course. I had Luna make that robot well over a year ago. Not nearly her best effort, but she's
gotten much better since, haven't you?"

Luna smiled grimly and nodded. She was justifiably proud of her work.

"Why would you send me there to find it? Why show us your hand?" Vakr asked.

"I already told you. We will have you on OUR side. I needed to get you alone, here, where you
couldn't run back to Tyrfingr and spill everything. I want you to know why you're fighting on the
wrong team," Kolgríma told him.

"How could you possibly think you could convince me to fight to destroy the world?" Vakr asked,
outraged.

"You have it all wrong, Vakr," Kolgríma said lovingly. Luna gave her a quick glance and narrowed
her eyes. "We don't want to destroy the world, we want to save it."

Vakr raised an eyebrow, illustrating his disbelief.

"Hear me out," Kolgríma told him. "When Loki spoke to me, from his confinement, he explained
everything."

"...you worship LOKI?" Vakr choked out.

"Stop interrupting, love," Kolgríma said silkily. "Or I'll have the guards kill you now."

Kolgríma settled in to tell her story. "Freya already explained this to you, but I'll tell you the true
meaning of what she said. The gods are bound by Fate. They are on the side of Order. As much as
Loki would love to bring Chaos to the world, he too is bound by the strands of Fate. He knows that
we humans, however, are NOT. If the gods go to war, if Ragnarok begins, it will mean the
destruction of everything. A war between the gods would mean nothing less. But if we humans
bring in a random factor, something undreamed of by Fate, we can change the direction of the
future!"

"...you think the robots you're building are going to change the future?"

"Loki assures me that they will. They're neither living nor dead, not born into the weavings of Fate
but created by creatures of Chaos. Humans," Kolgríma answered him.

"What does this have to do with me?" Vakr asked.

"Your magic, of course. You truly are the most powerful high wizard that was ever born," Kolgríma
praised him. Luna's face turned red with fury, and she turned away from the two of them, arms
crossed.
 Ragnarok Usurped 78

"When Loki's army of robots wins the war of Ragnarok, it will tear the fabric of Fate and change the
future. Ragnarok will NOT destroy the world, and Loki will reign supreme," Kolgríma told Vakr.

"And how do you believe I'll help you?" Vakr asked Kolgríma.

"With your magical skills you could speed up Loki's takeover. And it will be good to have you on our
side," Kolgríma purred.

"And if I refuse to help you?" Vakr asked defiantly.

Kolgríma grinned and shrugged. "I'll have Luna here slice your brain into slivers and build a
thousand magic using robots, all with your powers. I get you either way!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 79

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Hrefna was pacing back and forth restlessly across the wooden floor of their room at the inn.

Thorvir was sitting on a chair, methodically sharpening his sword. The noise the steel made against
the whetstone was setting Tyrfingr's teeth on edge. Marína was playing a game of go with Galmann,
white and black stones on a grid. Father Drengr watched them.

Tyrfingr stood up abruptly, stopping everyone in their busywork. "Enough. Let's go. I can't stand it
any more!"

"FINALLY," said Thorvir with a sigh of relief.

The group gathered up their belongings, and Marína created the warp portal right in the center of
the room. "Hurry," she told them, but they were all hurrying.

It was the dead of night in Manaw. The city was one of arcane wonders. Streamers of magelight shot
into the sky to guide in the airships that travelled there at all hours. The city itself was a series of
floating islands connected by bridges. Sages and Professors, Alchemists and Wizards all studied and
researched at the University of Manaw. If there was one place in the world where robots like the
Äsvor could be conceived, Manaw was that place.

"I know where the biolabs are," said Marína. "But it's highly guarded, and I seriously doubt we
could just saunter in there in the dead of night."

"Let's go and scout it out," Tyrfingr said. "Maybe there's more than one way in."

Even in the darkness of night, Manaw was a bustling town; not at all like sleepy Bretland. There was
no chance of slipping by unseen, not with the abundant magelights and students wandering about.

"Let's just walk. If pressed, we can say we're looking for a pub that's still open. We'll say we're
tourists," said Hrefna. The plan was simple enough, so they followed it. They walked, and chatted in
a relaxed manner, until they neared the biolabs. At that point, the party was all business.

Tyrfingr spoke to them in hushed tones. "Marína and I will take the east side of the building. Hrefna,
you and Thorvir take the west. Galmann, if you stroll around to the north to see what is there, and
Father, you can sit right there at the south entrance and pretend to read. You can keep a lookout
and let us know about the guard rotation. We'll meet back here in twenty minutes."

Everyone agreed to the plan and slipped away in ones and twos to their tasks. Drengr dropped
himself onto a bench facing the main entrance, and opened a book to study under the abundant
magelight. He looked over the top of his book, and saw two guards at the door, conferring with one
another. One of them gestured to the priest. Drengr looked back down at his pages, listening to
approaching footsteps.

"Evening, Father," the guard said pleasantly. "What are you doing here so late at night?"
 Ragnarok Usurped 80

Drengr furrowed his brows and lowered his book. He looked up at the guard and answered, "These
gods-be-damned students, thinking they can drink and carouse till all hours of the morning! They
woke me up out of a sound sleep. I decided to take a walk and find a place of quiet and solitude."

The guard chuckled. "I remember the student life. Forgive them Father, they're young and full of
energy. I'll leave you to your reading." The guard turned and walked back to his post. Drengr's heart
beat furiously in his chest. He felt faint pride, thinking that Tyrfingr would have applauded his
acting.

On the other side of the building, Hrefna and Thorvir watched as people wandered around the
streets and alleys near the biolabs.

"There," whispered Hrefna, pointing to a shadowed alley. "Do you see?"

Thorvir looked in the direction Hrefna was indicating and saw a person wearing a lab-coat walk
briskly out of the alley. "A back entrance, maybe?"

"I think so, let's go look," Hrefna answered.

The pair made sure the person in the lab-coat was out of earshot, and walked quickly to the alley. It
was narrow and dark, and stairs lead downward into the shadows. "Is that a door at the bottom?"
asked Hrefna.

"I think so," said Thorvir. "But what is that red light beside it?" He carefully walked down the steps
to examine the door. "It's a black box with a red light on it. There's a slot in the box. Have you ever
seen anything like that before?"

Hrefna said, "No, but maybe Tyrfingr has. Let's go back to our meeting place."

Thorvir came back up the stairs. "The door is made of metal, and there's no handle on the outside.
How are we supposed to get in?"

"We'll worry about that in a while," Hrefna told him, leading him back to the meeting place.

Galmann was already at the meeting spot when they got there. He informed them that the north
side of the building was all windowed offices, no doors. The windows were all barred, so there
would be no easy entry there. Minutes later, Tyrfingr, Marína and Drengr arrived. Tyrfingr and
Marína had found nothing, and the front entrance guards seemed too alert to fool. Thorvir took a
moment to describe the door that he and Hrefna had discovered.

"That box is a card-reader," Marína explained.

"What's that?" asked Thorvir.

"It's like a key-hole, but you use a thin card to open the lock. That technician who walked out... was
he wearing a card around his neck?" Marína asked.
 Ragnarok Usurped 81

Thorvir looked at Hrefna questioningly. "It was pretty dark, but I seem to remember something
dark lying against his white lab-coat," Hrefna answered. She held her fingers apart a distance. "It
was about this big."

Marína nodded. "That would be the card. We'll need one to get in that way."

Tyrfingr looked at Thorvir and grinned. "Ambush?"

"Ambush!" Thorvir agreed. They went to the alley to take up their posts.

Thorvir stood with his back to the wall on one side of the alley. Tyrfingr was on the other. Across
the street, Hrefna was half-hidden in shadows, watching the stairwell. She would give the signal to
them when anyone reached the top of the steps. Marína and the two churchmen waited restlessly a
distance away.

After several agonizing minutes of tense waiting, they heard the door open and footsteps on the
stairs. Hrefna held up one finger to the men waiting, telling them to wait. A few seconds later she
held up her thumb. Now!

Thorvir snaked out an arm in one swift motion and pulled the woman into his chest, pinning her
arms behind her. His hand covered her mouth tightly. Tyrfingr held a dagger in his hand and he
grinned at the woman. "Pardon, ma'am," he said. "But I need to borrow this..." The skald grabbed
hold of the card-key and used the dagger to cut its lanyard. The woman tried struggling, but Thorvir
held her firmly.

"We can't just let her go, she'll alert the guards," Thorvir told Tyrfingr. The woman's eyes widened
in fear.

"We'll leave her with the churchmen," the skald replied. "They can keep her asleep magically until
we're done our task." Thorvir nodded in agreement.

Hrefna gestured at them to come across the street, and they half-carried the struggling woman with
them. They brought her to Drengr and Galmann where they waited with Marína.

"Can you make her sleep?" asked Tyrfingr. Drengr nodded, and touched the woman's forehead. He
whispered a few words, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Her eyelids closed, and Thorvir
could feel her collapse in his arms. He gently set her onto the ground, leaned her against the wall
and asked, "Can you two keep her quiet until we get back? I have a bad feeling we're going to need
Marína's healing skills when we find Vakr and Kolgríma."

“We can do that,” Galmann assured the skald. His fingers brushed the woman’s forehead gently, and
she began to snore softly.

Tyrfingr led the four of them down the narrow steps, and handed the card-key to Marína who slid it
into the slot. The light blinked green, and the door started to open inward on its own. The priestess
slipped the card into her pocket and they entered the building together.

"Grab some lab coats," Hrefna said, pointing to a series of coat hooks hanging on the wall. "We'll
blend in a little better that way."
 Ragnarok Usurped 82

The four of them suited up and discussed the strategies to find Vakr and Kolgríma.

"As much as I don't like the idea, I think we need to split up," said Tyrfingr. "We'll look suspicious if
the four of us are walking together."

"In pairs then," Thorvir said. Tyrfingr nodded.

At the first turn in corridor, the four split up. They agreed to meet back at the side entrance in an
hour if they hadn't found anyone yet.

As Thorvir and Hrefna walked down the hallway, Hrefna's hopes sank. "Thorvir, most of these
doors require those card-keys. How are we going to get in?" They stopped and looked into the
unlocked rooms, but most were empty classrooms or offices.

"We'll have to find another," Thorvir said with finality.

It was almost too easy to get the card-key they needed. A technician was hurrying down the
hallway, flipping through notes in a journal. He didn't even look up at them when he passed, barely
mumbling "'Scuse me," as he bumped into Hrefna, then hurried on.

"Dammit, that was our chance," Thorvir said, disappointed, once the tech was gone.

Hrefna grinned and held up the card, on a severed lanyard. Thorvir stared at her questioningly, and
she replied, "Misspent youth."

Some of the locked rooms accepted the card-key, some did not. It was frustrating, but it allowed
them to search a little further. The rooms made no sense to Hrefna; the walls were chalkboards,
covered in scrawls of formulas she didn't understand. Tables were covered with glass beakers and
flasks that contained colorful liquids and were connected by glass tubing.

"What are they doing in here?" she breathed, looking into one glass jar. It seemed to contain a
human eyeball.

"Nothing good," Thorvir growled. "Come on, Vakr and Kolgríma are in here somewhere."

In another part of the biolabs, Vakr was strapped into a steel chair. His wrists and ankles were
locked into metal shackles that were welded to the chair frame. His head was held immobile with a
wide leather strap that ran across his forehead, keeping him firmly against the back of the chair.
Kolgríma had stripped him out of his robes, and he was very cold.

Luna was laying out tools on a steel tray: sharp scalpels, razors, and a saw. Several glass dishes with
a greenish liquid were on a nearby table, waiting.

Kolgríma was explaining the procedure cheerfully to the helpless wizard. "We need you alive when
we do the extraction. Luna could explain it better, but dead tissue doesn't grow as well. So we open
up your skull and take the slices one at a time. Don't worry, once we're into your head it doesn't
hurt anymore."
 Ragnarok Usurped 83

"How... many..." Vakr said weakly, "How many people have you killed for this?"

"Me, personally?" Kolgríma asked. "None. Luna and her team here needed a lot of subjects for
experimentation though. I made sure she had them."

"I never killed them, Vakr," Luna told him earnestly. "They all still live, inside the robots. Well...
except for the first few," she said with what seemed to be regret.

"Martyrs to science," Kolgríma explained. "They were heroes... even if they were unwilling."

Vakr swallowed and swiveled his eyes towards Luna. "You loved me once..."

The Professor turned to him and touched his cheek. "I still do. That's why I want to make you
immortal. Thousands of bodies with you inside them..."

"Luna has always been a romantic," Kolgríma said sarcastically. "You know we'll do this. It's no
bluff. Work WITH us, and I'll let you go..."

"Kolgríma?" Vakr said carefully.

"Yes?" she replied, a bit of hope in her voice.

"You were absolutely abysmal in bed," he told her flatly.

Kolgríma had just begun to formulate her reply, when Luna was on her, with a scalpel in her hand.

Hrefna and Thorvir heard a woman's scream, close by. "That's Kolla!" Hrefna cried. She and Thorvir
raced towards the sound. From the opposite direction, Tyrfingr thundered down the hallway,
followed closely by Marína.

The four of them could hear sounds of violence behind the steel door. Marína shoved her card-key
into the slot, but the red light didn't turn green. Hrefna tried hers next, to no avail. They heard Vakr
call out, "Luna, no!" and another scream.

"Out of my way!" Thorvir bellowed, and he swung his sword down onto the card reader with one
huge sweep. The reader exploded in a shower of sparks and fragments of metal, and the door
swung open.

"Don't let her hit the...." Vakr yelled, just as Luna slapped a bloody palm against the emergency
button. Alarm sirens shrieked deafeningly through the laboratory.

Hrefna took one look at the scene in the room; Kolgríma, breathing shallowly on the ground, in a
bloody heap, a blonde woman in a white lab coat smeared with red gore, and Vakr strapped into a
chair that looked like it was designed for torture. She leapt over Kolgríma's body, and started
opening the buckles and clamps on Vakr's chair.

Thorvir used the pommel of his sword to knock Luna unconscious, and Marína was beginning to
pray over Kolgríma when Vakr yelled, "No, RUN, she's with Loki!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 84

Tyrfingr grabbed hold of Marína's hand and dragged her up from the floor. Thorvir yelled, "Guards
coming!" Hrefna helped the naked wizard out of the chair, looking around frantically for his
belongings.

"No time," Vakr told her. "We need to get to the growth chamber!" His bare feet slapped against the
floor as he ran out of the room, and down the corridor, away from the approaching guards. He left
bloody footprints behind him in a trail of Kolgríma's blood. The others followed him, leaving the
two wounded women lying on the floor behind them.

They followed the wizard down the hallway, into the huge room filled with glass jars.

"Where is it, where IS it?" Vakr fumed, scrabbling around on the floor. "A HA!" he said, victorious,
and stood up with the gnarled staff in his hands.

"Stand back," the wizard warned his friends. He mumbled a few words and pointed the end of his
staff into the room. A huge fireball erupted from the staff, obliterating everything in its path. Again
and again, Vakr threw fireballs into the room, until every jar was shattered and the brains
incinerated. Only then did Vakr let himself lean against the sterile white wall in exhaustion, then
slumped to the floor, panting.

"Vakr?" Hrefna asked tentatively. She was a little afraid of the fury she had witnessed from her
friend. "Vakr, are you ok?" She touched his shoulder, and was further frightened to discover the
wizard sobbing into his hands. She crouched down beside him and folded him into her arms.

Between gasps for air, Vakr choked out, "Luna... she did something..."

"Luna did something?" Hrefna asked, confused.

Vakr sucked in a deep breath of air and cried out, "No! Kolgríma! She did something to Luna... did
something... made her... crazy..."

Tyrfingr cleared his throat. "Do you want us to go back for her, Vakr?" he asked, embarrassed by the
scene.

"Yes!" Vakr said vehemently. He struggled out of Hrefna's arms and tried to get to his feet. Hrefna
helped him up, and he leaned on his staff. Hrefna shrugged out of her lab coat and wrapped it
around the shivering wizard.

"We'll go now," Hrefna told him gently. The five of them readied themselves to meet the guards who
were undoubtedly coming for them.

Instead, the hallways were eerily empty. The siren blared a few moments longer, then faded slowly.

"I don't understand..." said Tyrfingr.” Why aren't they coming for us?"

"It doesn't matter," said Marína firmly. "Let's get Luna and Kolgríma. We can question her about her
involvement..." That's when the calm female voice seemed to echo from everywhere.

"Self-destruct sequence initiated. Evacuate building. Escape plan eighty two. Countdown begins."
 Ragnarok Usurped 85

"Self-destruct?" Tyrfingr asked, confused.

"I don't know," answered Thorvir, "but it doesn't sound good!"

"Thirty seconds," the voice said calmly. "Twenty-nine..."

"NOT GOOD," yelled Hrefna, grabbing hold of Thorvir's hand and Vakr's hand. She began running
towards the side exit. The pervasive voice continued the countdown.

"Luna!" Vakr gasped, straining towards the doorway to the extraction room. They took the briefest
glance into the room. Except for a pool of blood where Kolgríma's body had lain, the room was
empty.

"Eighteen," the female voice said clearly, through the friends' ragged breathing and gasps for air.
They could see the doorway now, standing open. As they approached it, it began to swing shut.

"Fifteen," the voice said. "Automatic lock-down sequence initiated."

"Oh SHIT!" Tyrfingr said, pushing a little harder to get to the door before it sealed. Marína was right
behind him.

"DUCK!" yelled Vakr. Marína pushed Tyrfingr to the floor just as the immense fireball streaked over
their heads. The solid steel door disintegrated before them. Thorvir bodily picked up Marína and
dragged Tyrfingr to his feet. They ran through the smoking remains of the doorway.

The ragged group pounded their way up the steps and across the road, ducking into the alleyway
where Drengr and Galmann waited with the sleeping lab tech.

At first, the explosion seemed muffled. Then a huge pillar of fire and smoke leapt into the sky from
the centre of the biolabs building. The party felt the shockwave before they heard the deafening
noise. Dust and debris rolled along the street like waves, choking the adventurers. Galmann
thoughtfully shielded the lab technician with his cloak.

When the rumbling finished, and the last few chunks of masonry had fallen back into the crater that
was once the biolabs, curious onlookers started peeping out of windows, and walking hesitantly out
of their buildings to see the destruction.

"That was well-done," Tyrfingr said. "Look, none of the surrounding buildings were damaged..."

"How can you SAY that?" Vakr cried. "Luna was in there! Our answers were all in there!"

Tyrfingr shook his head. "Vakr, they set that place up to explode, knowing they needed to protect
their secrets. That can't be their only stronghold. They had an escape plan... Luna wasn't in the
room. I'm sure she got out."

"Along with Kolgríma," Hrefna said darkly. "What happened in there, Vakr?"

Vakr wiped his forehead with one shaking hand. "She showed up out of the blue, and Luna did
everything Kolgríma told her to do. She played us all for fools. She played me..."

"Why, Vakr?" Tyrfingr asked. "What did she want?"

 Ragnarok Usurped 86

"Me. On Loki's side," Vakr said. "They're planning on cheating Fate. It's complicated."

"But what happened between Luna and Kolgríma?" Hrefna asked, exasperated.

"Oh, that." Vakr almost smiled, remembering. "Kolgríma doesn't know Luna as well as I do. She
certainly didn't know how jealous she is."

The wizard paused for a moment, considering. "Then again, it appears I didn't know either."
 Ragnarok Usurped 87

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The group headed back to the inn where they had dumped their belongings in their haste to rescue
Vakr. Thorvir and Tyrfingr dragged the sleeping lab technician along, their arms around her,
propping her up.

The sleepy innkeeper looked at them as they stumbled through the door. She was just preparing the
kitchen to make breakfast.

"Is your friend all right?" she asked, concerned.

Tyrfingr slurred his words a little bit. "Oh, she just can't handle her wine... we're tucking her into
bed."

The innkeep nodded; she saw this all the time. "If you miss breakfast," she warned them, "you'll
have to wait for lunch!"

They hastened up the stairs, carrying the woman with them. When they reached their rooms, they
crowded together and laid her down on the bed.

"Wake her slowly," Tyrfingr said, "and everyone step back. Marína, you sit beside her when she
wakes. You're a calming presence. We don't want her screaming."

Marína pulled a chair up beside the bed, and everyone stepped back against the wall to watch. The
priestess took the woman's hand and very slowly removed the spell that Drengr had cast over her.
The lab tech stretched luxuriously, took a deep breath and blinked her eyes a couple times.

"What a strange dream," she mumbled. She rolled over and saw Marína. "Oh!" she said with
surprise.

"Shhh," Marína told her. "Everything is all right. There's been an explosion at the bio labs. We...
found you unconscious and brought you here."

"An explosion! Is everyone safe?" The woman struggled to sit up, but Marína gently held her back
against the bed.

"I think so. But it wasn't just an explosion. The bio labs are gone," Marína explained.

"Oh gods," the woman said weakly. "Someone set the self-destruct. We were warned it might
happen someday. We had to do emergency drills every week!"

"What is escape plan eighty two?" Tyrfingr asked gently. The woman tried to focus her eyes on him.

"You! I remember! My card-key!" the woman frantically patted her chest, looking for the dangling
card.

Tyrfingr walked over and handed her the card he had taken. "I'm sorry," he said, crouching down
beside the bed. "We had friends trapped inside, we didn't have time to explain."

The lab tech calmed down slightly and sat up, looking at the adventurers. "Who are you people?"
 Ragnarok Usurped 88

"We're just... we have a job to do. Maybe you can help us?" Tyrfingr said. His voice seemed to be
calming the woman further.

"Eighty two?" she asked. "Escape plan eighty two? That's an all-out evacuation, using the warp-
portals in the tunnels."

"Where do the portals take you?" Tyrfingr asked her.

The lab technician looked at him quizzically. "To the robot factory in Vinheidr, of course."

Once the tech had fully recovered, the group released her. The Reginaudr Corporation was already
aware of the adventurers, there was no need to keep the woman silent.

Vakr wasn't doing well. His brush with death, his betrayal by Kolgríma, and the meeting with Luna
had hurt him deeply. The other men tended to give him space, assuming he needed time. The
women, on the other hand, hovered over him like mother hens.

"Is there anything I can do," asked Marína for about the hundredth time.

"No, Marína," Vakr answered dully. "I'm fine."

"Can I get you something to eat?" Hrefna asked him.

The wizard just shook his head mutely. The women would have stayed and pestered Vakr until it
drove him from the room, but Tyrfingr and Thorvir wisely came and escorted their ladies away
from the grieving wizard.

Vakr was left alone in the inn room, sitting on the bed and leaning up against the wall. It was all too
big, everything was so huge. This wasn't some border skirmish. It wasn't a test from the wizard
Academy. This was the end of the world. The end of everything. And what scared him the most was
that all Vakr could care about was the look of madness in Luna's eyes.

"She'll be in Vinheidr," a calm voice said from the doorway. Brother Galmann was standing there, at
ease, looking at Vakr.

"How do you know?" Vakr whispered.

"Where else would she go? It's where she would be needed," Galmann answered logically.

"But I destroyed them. I destroyed the... the brains," the wizard said shakily. "There were
thousands..."

"And there are likely thousands more, already implanted," Galmann replied harshly. "Wake up Vakr.
The bio labs had one purpose; growing the organic components of these robots. The bodies are
made and assembled in Vinheidr."

"What should I do now?" Vakr said, looking up at the Churchman. Galmann was well aware that the
wizard was asking a far deeper question than it seemed.

"Find her," Galmann told him. "Come with us, and find her. Then we'll see if we can heal her."
 Ragnarok Usurped 89

A faint glimmer of hope shone in Vakr's eyes. "Do you think you can?"

"Between Marína and Drengr, I'm sure they'll be able to help," Galmann assured the wizard. "Now
get some good sleep Vakr," he suggested. "We’ll discuss our plans in the morning."

“We’ll have to take the airship to Vinheidr,” Tyrfingr was explaining over breakfast the next day.
“The Äsvor have no direct routes to the city. It’s not a tourist town. It’s purely an industrial center.”

Vakr shook his head. "If Kolgríma had anything to do with security, she probably gave our
descriptions to the guards at the airship station." The rest of the travelers looked glum at the
suggestion.

"I feel like we're going about this the wrong way," Drengr mused. "These people at the robot
manufacturing factory are just employees. They'll know their jobs, but they won't know what's
really going on."

Tyrfingr thought about it. "Their supervisors must have a better idea what the plans are."

"If you want to know what's going on in a Church," Galmann said, "You don't talk to the Monks or
the Priests. You talk to the person in charge. You go to the Pope."

"You want to go see the president of the Reginaudr Corporation?" Hrefna asked incredulously.
"He'll be more highly guarded."

"He won't even be at the factory," Thorvir said. "He'll be at the offices, if he's even there."

Galmann blinked in surprise. "You misunderstand me," he said. "I wasn't speaking of the president
of the Reginaudr Corporation. I was speaking of Loki."
 Ragnarok Usurped 90

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Freya's TITS! You don't ask for MUCH, do you?" Vakr yelped.

"How are we supposed to find Loki, Galmann? The Aesir don't even know where he is," Hrefna said
reasonably.

"Not to mention he'll likely KILL us if we do find him," Vakr added.

"Well, I can think of three ways to find him," said Galmann.

"Tell us," Tyrfingr answered, intrigued.

"First: The Jotun would know where he is. And he's likely not with them, because that's too obvious.
But if we could bargain with them, they may tell us."

"Not too likely," Tyrfingr replied. "They don't want us to ruin their plans. They're on his side. Next
suggestion?"

"Second: Find Kolgríma. She's one of his worshippers. She can contact him and bring him to her."

"Plausible," said Tyrfingr. "But we don't know if Kolgríma is even alive. And if she is, where is she
hiding out? And what makes you think he'll come to her, even if she's in mortal danger? He might
just let her die."

"Third: Ask the Norns."

"The Norns," Vakr repeated, flatly.

"The Norns," Galmann agreed. "They weave Fate. I'm sure they'll know when someone is unraveling
their work. Wouldn't they have a vested interest in keeping Fate intact?"

Marína said carefully, "Brother, we're forbidden to contact the Norns... All members of the Church
are."

"Yes," Galmann agreed. "I know. But THEY'RE not forbidden..." He pointed at Hrefna and Tyrfingr.

Hrefna looked at Tyrfingr. He looked back at her blandly. "I could cast Tarot," Hrefna said.

"I could cast Runes," he answered her.

"That would tell us some of the Future," she said. "But it won't call the Norns themselves."

"I heard a song once," the skald answered. "It was a strange thing... but if I remember it correctly, it
could be... a spell. Should I sing it?"

Hrefna nodded, and Tyrfingr pulled out his guitar. He tuned it expertly and strummed
experimentally. His beautiful voice filled the room.

"Spinner, Weaver, Strand-Cutter,

Our life-paths laid out by your skills,
 Ragnarok Usurped 91

All our Futures, pre-determined

No chances left to our own wills.

Are we free or bound forever,

Blindly tracing our given path?
We call you Maiden, Mother, Crone:
And pray that we escape your wrath.

Runes we cast about the Circle,

Tarot cards laid out in kind,
Tools to read into our Futures,
And in this Circle, Fate I bind.

Can we re-weave the strands of Fate?

Can Futures change by force of Will?
We ask the Norns to be among us
Give us answers, good or ill."

The music faded, and the group sat, spell-bound, until Hrefna said, "Yes, Tyr, that sounds like a spell.
But what Runes? What Tarots?"

"Well," he answered, "I'm not sure, but I have a good idea where the Circle is. It's time to go home,
to Sigvatr, Hrefna. There's nothing for us in Vinheidr."
 Ragnarok Usurped 92

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"It's beautiful here," breathed Marína, looking around Tyrfingr's chosen hometown. He may have
been born in Björkö, but Sigvatr was where he kept his heart.

Huge trees grew up where ever they chose; the buildings were carefully placed amongst them. The
village smelled of fragrant wood smoke, evergreen needles and moss. Sigvatr felt almost as alive as
the interior of Yggdrasil.

"Can we go home?" Hrefna sighed, tired. She may have only lived there a matter of months, but
Tyrfingr's house in the Archers’ Village just north of Sigvatr proper felt like her home too. Tyrfingr
grinned.

"Let's do that," he said. "I'd like to show my wife her house."

The group walked by a small market where plump ladies sold their wares of fruit and vegetables,
meat and bread. An open-air oven released the scent of fresh-baked bread and Vakr's mouth
watered. Too many nights in questionable inns, eating even more questionable food had affected
him more than he knew. He decided it was time for a home-style feast and bought up breads and
butter, cheese and meat, and several bottles of mead.

"Good idea, Vakr," Tyrfingr said, grinning. "I haven't been home in a while, the pantry is probably
bare."

Tyrfingr's home was a stone cottage with a thatched roof. It had a wide, wooden porch with a sun
and rain roof over top, open to the air. Marína looked thrilled. "Our house?" she questioned, excited.
Tyrfingr nodded and patted her on the bottom, telling her to check inside.

She opened the front door and squealed in delight as she saw the cozy living room with a huge
fireplace at one end.

"No locks on your door?" asked Vakr.

"No need here," Tyrfingr replied, contented. He pulled over one of the chairs on his porch and
settled in with a sigh of relief. His friends gathered around him, on chairs and benches. It was
obvious that Tyrfingr was used to lots of company here at his home.

"I don't come here often enough," he said with some regret. "I travel too much as a skald. It will be
good to be able to spend time here with Marína. Maybe have a family..." he said wistfully.

While Vakr shared around the food, Hrefna went inside with Marína.

"Isn't it beautiful?" beamed Marína, as she poked around in the small kitchen.

"Yes," Hrefna said. "I was happy here when I was recovering from my blow to the head."

Marína stopped, shocked, a realization dawning that she had never before considered. "Hrefna... did
you and Tyrfingr... were you...?" she couldn't ask the question that burned in her mind.
 Ragnarok Usurped 93

"Oh! Oh Marína, no, never! Tyrfingr has always been more like... I don't know, an overprotective big
brother to me. Never anything more. Besides, I always knew he was married... he told me about you
often enough." Hrefna grinned, then saw tears forming in Marína's eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry, did I say
something wrong?"

"No," Marína said, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. "It was a long time waiting in Manaw for
him, that's all. I'm very glad to be home."

"I'm glad you're home too," Hrefna told the priestess, giving her a hug.

After supper, the friends decided it would be best to head to the Circle the next morning. Tyrfingr
played a bit of music for them, and Hrefna taught Marína a couple of dance steps while he played.
They all sat on the front porch and watched fireflies winking in the foliage of the trees like
miniature fireworks. It had been a long, frustrating journey so far, and all of them needed to rest
and recuperate.

Vakr, Drengr and Galmann bedded down in the comfortable living room, covered in piles of warm
quilts. A banked fire glowed in the fireplace. Tyrfingr smiled shyly, and took his wife into her
bedroom for the very first time. Hrefna took her Knight Protector into the small room that Tyrfingr
had given her while she was healing.

Thorvir gently unclasped the short cloak around his lover's neck and laid it over a wooden chair. He
kissed her soft skin at the base of her throat, and she sighed with contentment. She slid her hands
under his chemise and helped him lift it off over his head. She nuzzled into the soft hair on his chest
and laughed. Thorvir looked around the room and said, "Tyrfingr took good care of you."

"He did," she agreed. She lifted her face up to look at him, and he lowered his lips to hers and kissed
her.

"What will he do with this room when we've saved the world, and you come home with me?" he
asked her, teasing.

"Probably, he and Marína will replace this bed with a cradle," she said, smiling.

"That's an excellent idea," Thorvir said, unlacing her bodice slowly. "Should we build a cradle for
our home?"

She laid down on the bed, the bodice lying open around her, baring her breasts and belly. She put a
hand on her bare tummy and rubbed it. "Now how would I be able to dance when I was the size of a
barn?" she asked.

"Quite gracefully, I'm sure," he answered, lying beside her. Soon, there were no more words spoken
between them, only gasps of pleasure and contentment.

The restorative powers of a good meal and a safe home to sleep in did wonders for the weary
travelers. Full of hope, the group followed Tyrfingr out to the Circle. The walk took them far into the
late morning, well-past the outlying farming settlements surrounding Sigvatr, then deeper into the
woods.
 Ragnarok Usurped 94

"This is it," Tyrfingr said, with an odd note to his voice.

The clearing was bright and beautiful, surrounded by white stones marking the perimeter of the
Circle. Tiny wildflowers grew in the soft grass in the centre of the Circle, and the trees surrounding
the clearing leaned in protectively.

Hrefna felt a strange twinge as she gazed at the clearing. She looked around her, half in a daze, and
started walking to the south of the Circle. She knelt down beside one white stone and stared at it.
The stone had a reddish brown stain down the side of it.

Thorvir came over and crouched down next to his lover. "What is it, love?" he asked her quietly.

Hrefna touched the stain on the stone. "This is where it happened," she said. She looked over at
Tyrfingr. "This is where you found me." It wasn't a question.

Tyrfingr nodded. "You were lying with your head against that stone. I found a bloodied club
nearby."

Thorvir glanced at the stone, then spied something glinting in the grass beside it. His heart skipped
a beat as he reached down into the grass. "You must have come just in time to chase off her
attacker," he said.

"What makes you believe so?" Tyrfingr asked, striding over to them.

Thorvir held up the tiny, stoppered vial he had discovered. It held a greenish-black liquid. "Because
you didn't let her finish the job," he answered grimly.
 Ragnarok Usurped 95

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"I KNEW she knew too much," Vakr kept mumbling to himself. "Why didn't I question it?"

"I believe you had other things on your mind when you were with her," Galmann answered him
mildly. Vakr turned to the Monk and was about to reply harshly, but Galmann just raised an
eyebrow, and the wizard fell silent.

The two of them stood with Marína, Drengr and Thorvir, outside the Circle of stones. There were
thirteen stones, one for each moon of the year, spread evenly around the Circle. Hrefna and Tyrfingr
were in the centre, conferring.

"Other than the song, what do we know?" asked Hrefna.

"Well, I'm guessing we need to cast your Tarot and my Runes around the Circle, on the stones. Other
than that, why don't you dance as the rhythm of the music moves you?"

Hrefna nodded. "Makes sense. If it doesn't work, we can try again." She pulled a silk-wrapped
bundle out of her pouch and carefully unwrapped her Tarots. The völva shuffled the cards expertly
in her slender hands. Tyrfingr had his bag of Runes in his hand as well, and he was shaking them
slightly to mix them up.

"Just your voice then?" Hrefna asked. Tyrfingr nodded. "Let's start in the East, where the sun rises."

Tyrfingr's voice rose in song as he began the song-spell. Hrefna's body moved to the music, dancing
clockwise spirals. She had put on her white silk Priestess’ robes for the occasion and she floated like
a ghost around the glade. As the music moved her, she placed a Tarot card upon the stone, face
down. Tyrfingr drew a Rune from his bag and did the same, following her.

"Spinner, Weaver, Strand-Cutter,

Our life-paths laid out by your skills
All our Futures, pre-determined
No chances left to our own wills."

Both Hrefna and Tyrfingr were fully in a trance now, and the song and dance seemed to have taken
over their movements. The skald's song became deeper and fuller, incorporating the sounds of the
forest, wind and the earth itself. Hrefna's dance became more fluid, and the spirals she traced with
her feet left trails of blue energy in the grass behind her. The onlookers held their breath, drinking
in the beauty of the spell.

"Are we free, or bound forever,

Blindly tracing our given path?
We call you, Maiden, Mother, Crone,
And pray that we escape your wrath."

Marína gasped as she noticed the stones behind the pair were beginning to glow, even in the bright
noon-time sunlight. Magic did not impress the priestess; her prayers were a type of magic, after all.
But there was something larger happening here, and the powers came from no gods that she knew.
 Ragnarok Usurped 96

"Runes I cast about the Circle,

Tarot cards laid out in kind;
Tools to read into our Futures
In this Circle, Fate I bind."
The pair were nearing the end of the spell, closing the Circle by returning to the east, the beginning.
A smoky fog, utterly impossible in the warm sunlight, was coalescing in the centre of the Circle.

"Can we reweave the strands of Fate?

Can Futures change by force of Will?
We ask the Norns to be among us.
Give us answers, good or ill."

The fog swirled and became whole in the centre of the Circle, then separated into three distinct
forms. Hrefna and Tyrfingr had come to a halt back at the east stone, and stared warily at the
figures. Slowly, the forms became distinct; a beautiful blonde maiden, sitting at a spinning wheel, a
plump, motherly brunette woman, sitting in a rocking chair, humming and knitting, and an old,
weathered grandmother, with wispy white hair, smiling toothlessly. In her hands she held a pair of
wicked-looking shears. She would take a piece of knitting out of a bag, inspect it, and carefully snip
off the tail of yarn that dangled from it. She looked up at the skald and völva, then glanced over at
the rest of the group.

"Well, dearie-loves, get over here then. My eyesight's still good, but my hearing is failing," she
waved the seven over to them.

"Well done, children, well done," the Mother praised them. "That is an old spell, and one we haven't
heard in years."

"Well enough done," the Crone cackled. "I'd be tempted to punish you for interrupting our work, but
we'll listen to you. There's strangeness in the worlds."

"Indeed," the Maiden's melodious voice chimed in. "We can barely keep the threads of the universe
together. Someone is meddling." Her voice had taken on a dangerous edge.

The Mother nodded, and lifted a huge piece of knitting from the basket beside her. "It keeps
unraveling," she said sadly. "It's all I can do to keep it together."

Tyrfingr swallowed, nervously, his infectious charm failing him for probably the first time. "Kindly
ladies," he said, "We know that Loki and his human agents are behind this strangeness. He's trying
to avoid his Fate."

The Crone laughed, and snipped a thread away from a piece of knitting. Marína gasped, knowing
somewhere, someone had just died. "He's doing a damned good job of it too," the old woman said.
"But he's an egocentric little twerp. They all are. Gods." She spat derisively onto the ground beside
her.

"They think they know everything. They think they made these worlds," the Maiden added. "They
just can't remember Before. And they certainly don't know After."

"We do," the Mother said, nodding. "Or... we did."

 Ragnarok Usurped 97

"What do you mean?" Hrefna asked.

The Mother looked at the völva, and her eyes lit up. "Ah, Life-Bringer. There's my girl. And where is
he? Yes, yes," her eyes lit on Thorvir. "Loves-Life. You have a job to do children... or you did... we're
not sure..."

"They're all here, Mother," the Maiden said. "See? All seven that are woven into the cloth."

They looked at the trio, uncomprehending. But then who could understand the Spinners of Fate?
Tyrfingr carefully asked Hrefna's question again. "Ladies, what do you mean that you don't know
what will happen? Don't you know everything that was, is and will be?"

"We did, boyo," the Crone answered bluntly. "We did. But that damned upstart Loki... he's ruining
everything. He'll destroy EVERYTHING. Unravel it all. Don't believe me? Take a look at your
castings..." she gestured with a gnarled hand towards the stones.

Obediently, the skald and völva walked to the east stone and turned the cards and Rune stones face
up. The Tower and the Blank Rune. Hrefna looked at Tyrfingr, fearfully. The Tower represented
destruction. The Blank Rune... meant the Unknown. They hurried to the next stone and checked
again.

"This... this isn't possible..." Hrefna said faintly.

The Tower. And the Blank Rune. Panicking now, they ran from stone to stone, flipping each card
and stone. Every single card was the Tower. Every single stone was Blank.

"Isn't... isn't there only one of each card in the deck?" Vakr asked out loud. Hrefna had crumpled to
the ground beside the thirteenth stone, shocked to her soul. Tyrfingr held her hand in his, but he
looked just as stricken.

"Find Loki, children," the Mother told them. Her voice was starting to fade, and the images of the
three were beginning to waver. "Find Loki and stop him!"

"Please, ladies!" Vakr called out. "We don't know where Loki is!"

"With his daughter," chuckled the Crone. "The only safe place he has right now."

The Norns suddenly faded out in a blink, and the seven stood in the Circle, staring at each other in
fear.

"His... daughter?" Vakr asked, looking at the priest for guidance. Drengr shrugged helplessly.

Unthinking, Hrefna slid the top card off her Tarot deck and looked at it."They mean Hel. His
daughter. She rules the Underworld of Niflheim." She said it tonelessly. The card she held in her
hand was Death.
 Ragnarok Usurped 98

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Soberly, Marína cast a portal back to Kilwa. They had all agreed that it was best to confer with the
Chief before they went any further. No lore that any of them had studied had suggested how
someone was supposed to get to Niflheim, besides the obvious way.

The Chief sat on a bench, quite near where each of them stepped from the portal. He seemed
unsurprised to see them. When Tyrfingr asked him how he knew to meet them, he simply replied
that the jungle told him they were coming.

“The world is becoming more and more surreal,” Vakr muttered to himself. Life had been so much
simpler when it was only his books, and his studies.

Back in the Chieftain’s hut, Tyrfingr explained what had happened to them. The Chief was saddened
by the news that Kolgríma had betrayed them. He was also horrified at the news of what Loki was
planning. But when the Chief heard that they must travel to Niflheim to find Loki, he stopped them
utterly.

“No,” the Chief told them, no trace of humor in his eyes. “You will not go there. To go there is to die.”

Thorvir said, “Can’t we take the passage from the roots of the World Tree, Grandfather?” He knew of
the passage, but had never traversed it.

“If you enter the door, you will die,” the Chief said flatly. “Only the dead may enter Niflheim.” He
looked shrewdly at the group. “One of you… one of you is already dead. On the inside. That one
should go.”

Startled, Thorvir looked around the group. Surely not Hrefna or Marína… Tyrfingr practically
glowed with life… then he looked at Vakr. The Wizard didn’t even look him in the eye.

“It’s me,” the High Wizard said. “I knew it the minute you turned over the Tarot, Hrefna.”

“No,” Hrefna told him. “You can’t just die, even to go confront Loki. We need you here!”

Drengr slowly shook his head. “No, Hrefna, we need him to prevent everything we know from
unraveling. We MUST have him go to Niflheim.”

“It’s all right, Hrefna. It’s my time, and this is my job. I want to go. I think I’ve wanted to go since
Luna left me back in Oslo. I’ve just been biding my time,” Vakr explained.

Vakr turned to the little Chieftain. “So do I just jump off one of your platforms, or stab myself in the
heart, or what?”

“No, no, no,” the Chief replied, impatiently. “You need to go through the door inside the World Tree.
Take the staff with you, Shaman.” The old man pointed to the intricate staff he had gifted to the
Wizard before he had even met him.

“When a soul dies, it takes nothing with it, Grandfather,” Drengr told the Chief.
 Ragnarok Usurped 99

The Chief waved his gnarled hand dismissively at the Priest. “That staff isn’t of this world. It goes
where it wants to. You take it!” he commanded the Wizard.

“What if, when he dies, he goes to Valhalla?” Hrefna demanded, rebelliously.

Vakr snorted in derision. “I’m no hero, Hrefna. I’m just a Wizard who couldn’t see what was
happening right in front of his nose, because it was buried in a book.”

Since there was no point in delaying, the group gathered their belongings and trudged down the
many ramps to the jungle floor below. They thanked the Chief, but declined the offer of an escort of
warriors. Thorvir took the adventurers a different route to Yggdrasil, to one of the Kilwan secret
entrances to the World Tree.

The jungle was eerily silent. The normal noises of the day were muffled, and the animals were
soundless. The lack of noise made the group uneasy, but Thorvir explained that the jungle knew
that there was something wrong in the world, in all the worlds. He led them all to a huge hole in the
ground. “Fenris the Wolf dug this hole, trying to kill the roots of the Tree,” Thorvir explained. “The
dryads drove it away.”

“Fenris,” Drengr spat angrily. “Another of Loki’s bastard children.”

None of them said anything else as they entered the dark tunnel that led them to the spiral ramp of
Yggdrasil yet again.

The doorway to Niflheim was far deeper than the gateway to Svartalfheim. The group marched
wearily, like a funeral procession, down the sloping ramp.

“We don’t have to go all the way down to Loki’s chamber in the center of the world,” Thorvir told
them, “but it is a long way down.”

If anyone grew tired, nobody complained about it. Vakr leaned heavily on the staff that the Chieftain
had given him, thinking private thoughts. Sooner than Vakr had hoped, Thorvir led them off the
ramp into a small, nondescript antechamber. On the wall was a massive pair of wrought-iron doors.

Vakr straightened himself up, gathering the energy to do what he needed. “Well,” he said. “I hope I
don’t see any of you too soon.”

Hrefna smiled through her tears and hugged the Wizard. Drengr raised his hand and blessed him in
Odin’s name. Thorvir saluted Vakr, and Tyrfingr hugged him and thumped his back. Galmann
ceremoniously opened the gates for the Wizard, and bowed to him. Before Vakr stepped forward,
Marína kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, “Sooner than you think!”

Confused, but unwilling to delay any further, Vakr squared his shoulders, and stepped towards the
gate. As his body touched the threshold, it crumbled to the ground. Hrefna wailed in pain, as they all
stared at the corpse of their friend.
 Ragnarok Usurped 100

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Vakr stood on a gently rolling hill with his staff firmly in his right hand. The grass on the hill was
dead and brittle and looked dusty. Trees dotted the hill, but they were all dead and skeletal. Fallen
leaves rolled and bounced across the ground, although Vakr felt no breeze. The sky was dark but
devoid of stars. A huge, orange harvest moon hung in the sky like it was painted there.

Vakr heard an unearthly moaning and looked for the source, but to no avail. The sound seemed to
emanate from the earth itself, and surround him.

In the distance, dots of firelight showed where a town might be. He walked down the hill, noticing
that the grass sprang back under his feet, as though it were still living. The leaves didn’t crunch
under his feet as he stepped on them. On closer inspection, Vakr realized that he wasn’t actually
stepping on the leaves at all; he could see them right through his feet.

Being a curious man, Vakr decided to test some theories. He walked up to a tree, took a breath, and
walked through the seemingly-solid trunk. After he arrived on the other side of the tree, Vakr
swung his arm through the trunk several times. He decided that the tree was indeed solid; he was
not.

Smiling grimly, Vakr took hold of his staff in both hands and swung it at the tree, fully expecting it to
slice through the trunk like his arm did. To his enormous surprise, the staff hit the tree with a
resounding thud, jarring his arms and shoulders roughly. Shocked, Vakr looked at the tree, and
noticed signs of damage. The wizard studied his staff and discovered that it looked more solid than
his fingers did. The pale glow of power he had noticed in Midgard had brightened considerably in
Niflheim. When he concentrated his mage-sight on the staff, the light almost blinded Vakr.

“A good weapon to have in a place like this,” Vakr murmured to himself. His voice fell flatly into the
dead air.

Vakr walked down the hill and came to a cobblestone path. Everything in this place seemed to be in
shades of gray. When he looked around with mage-sight, however, Vakr saw the land light up in full
color. Obviously, not everything in Niflheim was dead, but as he was, that was how Vakr saw this
world.

By the side of the road, Vakr saw a little boy, bouncing a ball. At Vakr’s approach, the boy looked up
at him.

“You’re new here,” the boy said dully. It was not a question.

“How do you know?” Vakr asked the boy.

“You still look new. You won’t for long,” the boy answered, now disinterested in the conversation.
Vakr looked down at the sleeve of his clothing. Though ghostly, it still looked fresh, if only a little
travel-worn. The boy’s whole appearance, however, looked tattered and faded. His bare feet and
fingers trailed off into undefined misty tendrils, as though he were too tired to hold his shape
together any more.

“How long?” Vakr whispered, horrified. The boy shrugged.

 Ragnarok Usurped 101

“Can’t really tell time down here,” he answered. “Soon, I’ll be one of THEM.” The boy gestured to the
city below, where ghostly, wispy shapes floated between buildings.

“Then what?” Vakr asked.

“Well, then someday, Niflheim eats you.” The boy didn’t look too concerned. “Then you become part
of the buildings, or the trees, or the moon.”

Vakr shuddered and walked away from the boy, towards the city of the dead.

The spirits floating around the streets of the city paid little interest to Vakr. Most of them were
barely human-shaped, their spirit forms dissolving into shapeless, misty figures. Vakr imagined that
he could see the ramshackle buildings leaning in over these spirits hungrily.

The spirits were so involved with their own tasks (Vakr wondered vaguely what they could be
doing) that sometimes they floated right through him. This happened once or twice, until one
hapless ghost floated into Vakr's staff. The ghost looked like he was thrown backwards by
contacting the staff. His form coalesced into a cleaner, more human shape, and looked directly at
Vakr.

"What manner of spirit are YOU?" the ghost asked indignantly.

"I'm new," said Vakr, assuming that would explain everything.

"That much is obvious, but what is this weapon you carry with you? I haven't felt pain since I got
here, and didn't expect to feel it again until I was devoured by this place!" The spirit reached out
and gingerly touched the staff. Vakr could see the electrical shock the ghost received without the
need of mage-sight. The ghost seemed even more substantial now; he was a young man, dressed in
wedding regalia.

Out of curiosity, Vakr asked, "What do you do here, in the city of the dead?"

Now the young man really looked at Vakr. There was genuine interest in his eyes. "I search for my
beloved, amongst the dead. I was waylaid on the road to our wedding, and killed by thieves." The
spirit reached into his pocket and pulled out a shining gold ring. "I want to give this ring to her, so
we can be together for the rest of our existence here. But I've been searching for so long... I had
almost forgotten."

"Is it easy to forget, here in Niflheim?" Vakr asked.

The young man shook his head. "Not if you have a true purpose. Those of us who find a reason to
continue here, we thrive and keep our forms and live a kind of afterlife within the city. Those with
no purpose or interest... they become a part of the land. I guess I just... lost hope, waiting for her to
join me here. Thank you, stranger, for giving it back to me! I'm going to the chapel on the hill, to see
if Maria is there!"

The spirit now walked, like a true man, towards the chapel. He called out, "Maria! Maria, I am
coming!"

Vakr smiled. "Good luck!" he called after the spirit. So there was some hope here, after all.
 Ragnarok Usurped 102

The wizard contemplated his next action. He needed to find Loki, and Loki was with his daughter
Hel. As Hel was Queen of the Dead, it made a certain amount of sense that the city-dwellers would
know where she was. Vakr stopped the next spirit he met who still seemed to have interest in her
eyes. "Can you tell me how to find Hel?" Vakr asked her.

The woman looked at the wizard with a strange expression on her face. "Why would you want to?
She cares nothing for us."

"Nevertheless, I need to speak with her. Where is she?"

The ghost-woman pointed off down the broken cobbled street. "Keep following the road, it will lead
you to her castle, Newcomer. But she will not listen to your petition. She never does."

Vakr thanked the woman and began to walk away from her. The spirit called after him, "Beware the
creatures on the path, Newcomer! They will want to devour your soul and make it a part of the
world, forever!"

Wonderful, thought Vakr. This day was just getting better and better.

The buildings quickly thinned out around him as Vakr walked down the cobblestone road towards
Hel's castle. The city made way for farmland, but the farms were run-down and the crops were
dead. Skeletal livestock grazed on the brittle grass. Vakr wondered if the dead really needed to eat,
or if they just did it out of force of habit.

Farmland gave way to a dense forest, so foreboding that the wizard started to reconsider his goal.
The trees curled in over each other, and though they were mostly devoid of leaves, they created a
dark, eerie tunnel surrounding the road. The moaning sound that Vakr had noticed when he first
came to Niflheim was louder here. It sounded as though the trees were actually in pain.

Vakr took a firm grip on his staff, and drew a bit of energy from it. He practically glowed. The
wizard then took some confident steps into the woods. Immediately, he heard the rustling of
branches, and he looked behind him. The forest had closed the path behind him; where the road
once led was now a wall of thorns.

"Freya's tits..." Vakr said dispiritedly. Since there was nowhere else to go, he moved forward.

The sound of owls hooting and wolves howling didn't concern the wizard that much. It was the
perpetual moaning and the sourceless whispers that made him jumpy. Vakr felt that he was being
watched from behind the dead branches and tree trunks.

Without warning, dozens of black, skittering creatures swarmed onto the road in front of him. They
clicked their mandibles together, making noises that sounded like, "Food! Flesh!" Vakr swore, and
swept his staff in front of him, and the tiny monsters backed away from the crackling blue fire the
staff produced.

"Back into the trees," a hollow-sounding voice boomed behind the wizard. "This soul is mine!"

Vakr whirled around to face the source of the voice. He heard the creatures scuttle away back into
the trees. A hulking giant of a creature that could be described as a man stood on the road. He was
dressed in rags and chains, and carried a huge sword, smeared with blood.
 Ragnarok Usurped 103

"Nice effect," Vakr sneered. "Spirits don't bleed. Trying to scare me?" He braced his staff in front of
him as the giant snarled and lurched forward, sword held high above his head.

Vakr quickly threw a couple fireballs at the approaching monster, but they just engulfed the
creature in flames and didn't seem to harm him at all. In fact, the giant was now laughing manically.

"You are mine," the monster said, an insane grin crossing his face. He swung his massive sword
down, to split Vakr's skull open.

Vakr grabbed his staff in both hands and raised it over his head to block the blow. As the sword met
the staff, it shattered into a million pieces. Gore-smeared shards of metal fell clattering to the
cobblestones.

"I'm already DEAD you moron!" Vakr howled. He then swung his staff directly towards the head of
the giant.

The giant tried to evade, but he was too slow. The staff hit him solidly in the side of the head. The
monster cried out, "It BURNS, Mistress!" His body flaked apart, into thousands of dead, dry leaves,
and blew away in the non-existent wind.

"Thank you, Grandfather," Vakr whispered, "for telling me to bring this staff!" He turned back in the
direction of the castle and continued his walk down the forested path.
 Ragnarok Usurped 104

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hel's castle loomed above Vakr like something out of nightmare. Rotting stone towers spiraled into
the air, looking as though the slightest breeze would topple them. The courtyard could have been
called overgrown, if all the vines, thorn bushes and weeds weren't dead. A stagnant moat circled the
castle walls, and one could easily imagine unspeakable creatures swimming silently through the
murk.

Vakr was thoroughly unimpressed.

With his mage-sight, Vakr could see that the castle was well-maintained. Hel obviously liked to
surround herself with beautiful things; the gardens were bright and well-tended, and the moat
sparkled. Brightly-coloured catfish swam in the crystal-clear water. The nightmarish glamour that
surrounded the castle was simply an illusion designed to keep spirits from interfering with the
business of the Queen of the Dead.

Vakr strode confidently across the decrepit-looking drawbridge and through the front castle gates.
Hel had no reason to fear attacks in her own domain. Before the doors to the castle proper stood
two more of the hulking giant creatures like the one that had attacked Vakr in the forest.

"Take me to your Mistress," Vakr told them.

The giants crossed their swords, barring Vakr's entrance to the castle. "Mistress wants no visitors,
especially the likes of you, little ghost," one of the giants sneered.

Vakr drew a little power from his staff, until he positively glowed. He spoke again, with a slight edge
to his tone. "Take me to your Mistress NOW."

The monsters winced in pain at the brightly-glowing wizard and stepped away from the doorway in
fear. "We won't take you there," one monster said sullenly. "If you go on your own, it's your
business."

Vakr nodded his acceptance to this compromise and opened the door, and walked through. His
confidence and bravado totally deflated when he saw what lay behind the door.

The huge throne-room could have held hundreds of people, but in it there were only two. Hel sat
upon her throne made of carved human bones and skulls. She was pale and beautiful but seemed to
almost be colorless. Her robes could have been spun out of the wisps of spirits who had decayed too
far to hold their form. Beside the Queen of the Dead, on a cushion on the floor, a girl wearing
shredded rags and a heavy iron collar sat listlessly. A thick chain was attached to the collar and was
affixed to the throne. The girl lifted her head and looked up as Vakr stepped into the room.

"Oh, gods, no..." Vakr whispered. "LUNA!" he cried, and began to run towards her. Luna tried to
lunge towards the wizard, but was brought up short by the chain. A familiar, mocking laugh stopped
Vakr in his tracks, and he looked at Hel again in horror.

"Brave, but incredibly stupid Vakr. What exactly do you think you're going to do here, in my
domain?"
 Ragnarok Usurped 105

Vakr took a deep breath and calmed himself. "That depends," he said. "On where your father is....
Kolgríma."

"Would you prefer I wear that form?" Hel asked, as color slowly poured into her form, darkening
her hair and giving a tint to her skin. Her face changed subtly, until she resembled the girl that Vakr
had known and could have loved.

"Where is your father?" Vakr repeated stubbornly. He kept his eyes turned from Luna, who still
stared at him, longingly.

Kolgríma waved her arm towards a door to the right of her. "In his chambers, I imagine. I'm not his
keeper."

"No," Vakr said through gritted teeth, "You're his partner in all this madness. You know what could
happen! Why are you permitting it?"

Kolgríma smiled a lopsided smile at the wizard. "Do you really think I could choose to do anything
else? When I was born, my 'Uncle' Odin wanted to destroy me at once. Just like my brothers the
Fenris Wolf and the Midgard Serpent. He called us monsters. He swore to destroy us, Vakr. I'm
protecting myself from those gods you're aiding."

"Kolgríma," Vakr started in his most persuasive tone, "We spoke to the Norns. Loki isn't preventing
Ragnarok, he's doing something worse; he's unraveling everything. You, me, Luna, the Nine worlds...
we'll all cease to exist. We will never have been born!"

Kolgríma stared at him, madness glinting in her eyes. "Good. Let him do it then. Better to never have
existed then to be set here for eternity guarding the souls of cowards and weaklings. Let him undo
everything!"

"And tell me Kolgríma... why did you try to kill Hrefna? You never got a chance to poison her there
in that stone circle, why did you want her to die?"

"The Norns didn't tell you? Then neither will I!" Kolgríma told him. "I believe in tying up all the
loose ends. Pity that stupid skald came when he did. As you know, I'm not invulnerable in my
human form." Kolgríma grabbed hold of Luna's chain and jerked it sharply. The girl gasped, and fell
back against Kolgríma's throne.

"Enough! Leave her alone!" Vakr was angry now, and began to pull more energy into himself from
his staff.

"Why? She's already dead, just like you. And if a bitch turns on you, you have to keep her chained,"
Kolgríma sneered.

"Leave! Her! Alone!" Vakr bellowed, and threw a massive bolt of fire at the sneering Queen.

Kolgríma didn't even flinch, she just simply the flames and laughed her mocking laugh. Vakr leapt at
her, staff in hand, and Luna screamed.

The Queen was taken aback by this physical attack, and began to rise from her throne. Vakr
mindlessly swung his staff at her, all magic forgotten in his rage. His first blow knocked Kolgríma
 Ragnarok Usurped 106

sideways out of her throne, and she fell to the floor in shock. Nothing in this realm should have the
power to harm her! She raised her hands to protect herself, or maybe beg for mercy. Vakr swung his
staff again, smashing Loki's daughter with all his strength. Kolgríma burst into blue flames. She
screamed once, sharply, and fell to ashes on the floor of her throne room. Vakr, still infuriated,
swung his staff at the throne of bones, smashing it to pieces. He grabbed Luna's hand and hauled
her to her feet. Tears were rolling down the girl's ghostly cheeks. He touched the collar around her
throat, and it fell away, rusting almost instantly. The chain fell to the floor, and dissolved in a trail of
sparks, leaving a rusty powder trail on the floor behind it.

"We need to find Loki," Vakr growled to Luna, "Follow me!" Luna shook her head, and pulled away
from Vakr, but he wouldn't let go of her hand.

"Vakr, I can't! I'm sorry, so sorry," she wept. "Hel... she got inside my head, she twisted my
thoughts... The people... I killed people... so many..." Luna fell to her knees. "I loved you Vakr! I love
you now! But I deserve to be punished for what I did."

Vakr hesitated, torn between the woman he still loved and the unfathomable task still before him.
He decided to take the time. He released the grip on Luna's hand and stroked her cheek softly. "I'll
always love you Luna. I never stopped. I'm so very sorry I ever hurt you."

"I'm sorry for leaving... for not talking to you... for everything I said," Luna whispered. She looked up
at him, the tears still streaking her pale, beautiful face.

"I know," Vakr answered. "And I forgive you." He bent down and kissed her with infinite gentleness,
cupping her face in his hands. He helped her to her feet, and wrapped his arms around her, his staff
lying forgotten at his feet. Luna laid her head against his chest, and held him tightly.

"We could stay like this forever," she whispered. Vakr looked at her sadly.

"No we can't, love. I HAVE to stop Loki, or there is no forever. None of us will ever have been born. I
have to..." That's when Vakr cried out in pain. It was as though red-hot hooks had pierced through
his flesh and he felt himself being pulled. "LUNA!" he cried, feeling himself being torn out of her
arms.

"Vakr? Oh, VAKR!" the girl cried out, reaching for him. She looked impossibly far away. Still, he was
pulled by that searing, burning pain, until she dwindled away in the distance and he could only hear
her last words faintly, "I will wait! I love you!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 107

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Vakr groaned and blinked his eyes. He was lying on a wooden floor, and the room was dimly lit by
mage-light. He blinked again and focused his eyes on the concerned face hovering over his.

"Marina?" he said muzzily. "Where am I?"

Marína breathed a sigh of relief. "It worked!" she said triumphantly, to people outside of Vakr's
view.

"What did you do?" Vakr cried out, horrified. He tried to sit up and the world spun around him.
When everything stopped spinning, he saw Hrefna sitting in front of him, smiling, but with tears
streaming down her face.

"Don't you EVER do anything that STUPID again!" she said, between sniffles. Then she grabbed him
and hugged him tightly.

"In cases of extreme need," Brother Galmann said from nearby, "the gods grant their priests and
priestesses the ability to bring the dead back from Niflheim. It's a rare thing, and it's up to their
whims whether they will allow the soul to be returned to the body. Frigga obviously felt you were
still needed here in Midgard." The Monk smiled fondly at the platinum-haired Priestess who had
brought Vakr back from the dead.

Vakr struggled out of Hrefna's embrace and lurched to his feet. "You IDIOTS!" he yelled. "I was THIS
CLOSE to reaching Loki!" He held his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. "You made what I
did... meaningless!"

"Well, you certainly seem lively enough," Thorvir said wryly. He was leaning against the wall
casually with his arms crossed, watching the scene. "But you don't have a CLUE about how to
express gratitude."

"I went there to destroy LOKI," Vakr said through gritted teeth. Were these people completely
incapable of simple thought?

"And that's why we brought you back, wizard," Drengr told him seriously. "Something changed. You
were ... gone ... for a few hours. The Priestess and I were trying to determine how long to give you
before trying to resurrect you. Then Hrefna and Thorvir came running down here."

Thorvir took over the tale for the priest. "One of the Kilwa warriors had come right to our
chambers. The Chief sent news that Loki has made his move, and he seems to be acting insanely!
He's released the Fenris Wolf! His robot army is marching on Yggdrasil even as we speak. He's in a
fury Vakr, there's no sense to his moves. What did you DO?"

Vakr smiled grimly. "I took something away from him that he valued greatly. I killed his daughter."

"Well," said Marína. "Whatever you did, it stirred up everything. Frigga practically screamed at me
to bring you back. It wasn't a question of whether I should; it was that I needed to resurrect you
NOW."
 Ragnarok Usurped 108

"So grab your staff Vakr," Hrefna summed up. "It's time to finish this, one way or the other."
 Ragnarok Usurped 109

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The five protectors moved as quickly as they could towards one of the Tree's many exits, but found
their path slowed by the many Kilwa warriors that had come to help protect the Life Tree. The
hallways were full of the small, dark men, grinning madly and bristling with spears. They had
trained their whole lives for this moment and were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Once they made their way outside, the adventurers were amazed by what they saw: Thousands and
thousands of people, preparing for war! There were knots of Priests and Monks discussing tactics,
neat formations of Knights and Crusaders, preparing to fight the battle of all time, Wizards standing
side-by-side preparing to blast the enemy out of the sky if necessary, and rank upon rank of
Archers, standing at the ready.

"So this is really it," Tyrfingr said. "The End of Days. Ragnarok."

"No, it’s worse," Vakr replied, pointing up into the clear blue sky. It almost seemed as though the
sky itself was unraveling, like a piece of knitting with a snagged thread. "Loki's trying to circumvent
the prophecy."

At that moment, it was as though the skies opened. Warriors poured from nowhere, whooping and
hollering excitedly. Stunningly beautiful Valkyries in full battle armor, brandishing glinting swords,
swooped through the skies on huge feathered wings. At the head of them all was a one-eyed,
cloaked figure, riding an impossible eight-legged horse.

"This is our moment of glory, warriors!" Odin shouted. His voice echoed over the assembled
throngs. "Here we fight the greatest battle of our lifetimes!" The thousands of people raised their
voices in triumphant battle cries.

"Someone needs to tell Odin that there is still a chance to avert this fiasco," said Vakr urgently to
Father Drengr. "We need to recapture Loki, and prevent the end of the everything!"

Galmann and Drengr rushed over to reason with the god. At best, it seemed a futile attempt. Odin
was already in battle frenzy and his son Thor had just arrived in a chariot pulled by two goats.

"How is Loki going to get his forces through the jungle?" asked Hrefna. "It's so thick you can barely
weave your way through it, not to mention the animals..."

Just as she finished her thought, immense sound knocked them all backwards. Trees, vines and
undergrowth were ripped from the ground from the jungle in front of them; a huge swath of the
forest was torn from the ground and swirled up into the sky. Loki had created a huge, unimpeded
roadway for his armies, heading directly for Yggdrasil!

"Freya's tits..." Vakr said, disheartened.

"Now is not the time to be discussing my assets!" a musical voice chimed overhead. Freya had
arrived at the battle site in her chariot, along with her brother Frey. "WE ARE THE VANIR," she
claimed in a voice that echoed over the jungles. "You have drawn first blood Loki, by destroying my
jungle! You will suffer for it!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 110

"No, " Loki’s voice boomed from somewhere within his immense army. "That Wizard will pay! Kill
them! Kill them all!" he shrieked.

As Loki's forces swarmed down the broad roadway the mad god had created, it was apparent that
the defenders were outnumbered. Loki had amassed an army of frost giants, spirits, undead,
demons, humans and at the head of them all, his robotic warriors of Human and Dwarven design.
The giants casually tore trees from the jungle to either side of the roadway, using them as cudgels to
beat aside the Valkyries who swarmed to assault the invaders. Loki's army was making good
headway, until Freya's Vanir forces melted out of the jungle and began their defense.

The beautiful wood nymphs that Vakr had seen inside Yggdrasil were vicious warriors. They would
entangle their foes in vines of thorns, and once they were immobilized, they would tear them apart
in a deadly frenzy. The large ape-like creatures also helped, using slings and throwing stones with
perfect accuracy.

Slowed by the Vanir, Loki's army stood their ground and fought violently. Loki had the advantage of
sheer volume of numbers. It was also apparent that he didn't care if he destroyed all his forces in
this attack. Odin lifted his huge hunting horn to his mouth and blew one terrible note.

With a whoop, the Champions of Valhalla swarmed into the torn jungle, to meet their ends in
glorious battle. More disciplined, the Knights and Crusaders followed on their mounts, to enter into
the fray.

"Oh shit," Tyrfingr said. "I guess stopping Loki is up to us then."

"You're really surprised?" asked Vakr sarcastically. "Now where IS that weasel of a god?"

"I don't know how we could see him, in that huge swarm," Hrefna said, shading her eyes against the
sun for a better view.

"I have an idea," suggested Thorvir. "Why don't we ask someone?"

"Someone?" Hrefna was barely able to get out of her mouth, before Thorvir ran forward, howling,
into the battle.

"DAMN IT THORVIR," Hrefna yelled, and then dashed off after him.

"I'm surprised it took him that long!" Tyrfingr said to Marína.

"Don't. You. Dare." Marína said ominously.

Before Tyrfingr could even argue that the thought of joining the battle had never even crossed his
mind, Thorvir and Hrefna were back, dragging a struggling fighter between them.

"Why him?" Vakr asked them. "How do you know he's on their side?"

"He was attacking the dryads," Hrefna explained. "It irritated Thorvir."

"Where's Loki?" Vakr asked the warrior.

The warrior sneered at the wizard and spat on the ground in front of Vakr.
 Ragnarok Usurped 111

"Thorvir," Vakr said calmly, "Break his fingers please."

Thorvir firmly grabbed the fighter's wrist and started to bend back one of his fingers.

"Wait wait wait!" the warrior said. "I thought you were the good guys."

"We are," said Vakr surprised. "That's why I started with your fingers, not your kneecaps."

"I don't know where Loki is," the warrior told him anxiously. "But he should be easy enough to find.
He's riding a huge wolf!"

"Fenris," spat out Tyrfingr. "Figures."

"Let him go," Vakr told Thorvir and Hrefna. They loosened their grips on his arms and stepped back.

The warrior stood there staring at the wizard, his jaw dropped.

Vakr looked at the warrior. "What are you standing there for? Go!"

"You... you'll kill me the minute I turn my back!" the warrior accused.

"Don't judge us by the way YOUR side fights," Vakr said with disgust. "WE'RE not Loki's minions!"

The group watched the warrior run off into the woods. He didn't seem interested in rejoining the
fight; he was only interested in saving his own hide now.

"Loki needs a better class of warrior," Thorvir said in disgust.

"I like the type he's chosen just fine," Tyrfingr said cheerfully. "The type the run away at the earliest
opportunity!"

"Loki's in that mess somewhere," Vakr said. "We need to find him as quickly as possible."

The friends scanned the horrific battle below. Both sides were fighting like madmen; even the well-
trained knights and crusaders were succumbing to berserker madness. Arrows and spells dropped
like rain on both sides and it was impossible to tell which side was which. Bodies were trampled,
forgotten, under the feet of the fighting forces. Odin and Thor were in the thick of the battle,
gleefully killing their enemies indiscriminately. Even the fair Freya had bloodlust as she fought
through the battle lines towards those who would despoil her forests.

"It IS Chaos," Marína whispered.

"It's horrible," Hrefna agreed. "Wait! There!" she said, pointing. Off in the distance, to the left of the
melee, rode a flame-haired man astride a huge, slavering wolf. The wolf was so large it could snap a
man in half between its deadly jaws.

"Let's get him," Vakr said grimly.

"What's the plan?" Thorvir asked.

 Ragnarok Usurped 112

"No plan. He wants Chaos, let's give him some!" Vakr answered, before running off towards the
Trickster god.

As he ran, Vakr used his staff to cast bolts of ice at people in his way. He couldn't tell friend from foe,
so he froze anyone in his way. The spells were temporary, but allowed him a safe passage through
the midst of the battle. Hrefna, Thorvir, Tyrfingr and Marína followed behind, along with Galmann
and Drengr. As they passed the frozen fighters, the priestess and high priest would unfreeze the
warriors they knew to be sided with Odin. Galmann, on the other hand, with infinite calm, was
attacking those monsters of Loki's army who were beginning to thaw on their own. His hands
moved like a blur, breaking bones and rendering his opponents helpless, even unconscious. He
seemed to take no damage from the weapons the warrior swung clumsily at him. More terrifying
than his deadly fists was the calm demeanor he held as he fought. It was as though he was
absolutely sure he would win. His confidence was enough to make some of the fighters and
monsters think twice before engaging him.

As they approached the enormous wolf, Vakr began a bloodcurdling roar. He wondered if he hadn't
fallen to battle madness himself. When he was close enough to be heard over the clash of battle, he
thundered out, "Loki! I am Vakr! I killed your daughter Hel! Face me if you have the balls!" Vakr
stood solidly, his staff planted into the ground at his feet.

"YOU!" roared Loki. "This is your doing. I'm going to crush you into jelly, worthless little wizard!"

While Vakr held Loki's attention, and they hurled insults and threats at each other, Tyrfingr and
Hrefna slipped around Loki and his wolf to the right while Thorvir slipped around to the left.
Marína and Drengr stood at Vakr's back, ready to back him up with magic of their own. Galmann
was off happily beating Loki's warriors into bloody piles of giblets.

"You talk big for a pathetic godling," Vakr taunted. "Especially one tied up in a cave for thousands of
years!"

Loki screeched and leapt off the back of the Fenris wolf. "I'll tear you apart with my own teeth!"
Loki howled, throwing himself madly at Vakr.

The sounds of battle faded out of Vakr's hearing. He saw nothing except the maddened god bearing
down on him. Loki was preparing some sort of spell; his hands were glowing an unearthly green. He
looked as though he was going to throttle Vakr the second he was on him. Vakr braced himself and
prepared to meet the attack with a spell of his own, but a sound rose from the battleground; one
that did not belong. It was the beautiful sound of a lute, being played masterfully. Behind Loki,
almost close enough to throw a rock at him, Hrefna danced sensually to the music that Tyrfingr
played. The green glow surrounding Loki's hands faltered, and then faded. Vakr could feel his magic
drain out of him at the same time. Startled, Loki skidded to a halt and spun around to see what was
preventing him from using his magic.

"Freya's sweet tits!" Vakr crowed, and swung his staff for all he was worth, right at the back of the
god's unprotected head.

The Fenris Wolf howled mournfully as he watched his master/father fall. The beast had just enough
time to gather breath for another howl when Thorvir drove his sword up through the monster's
 Ragnarok Usurped 113

throat. With a groan and a gurgle, the massive wolf fell. The earth shook with the weight of him. The
fighting nearby shuddered to a halt, as those who could see, witnessed the fall of Loki.

Marína was bent over the stricken god. "Is he dead?" Vakr asked shakily.

"No," she answered the wizard, "But he won't wake up for a week!"

"It is over," thundered Drengr. "The Trickster God has fallen! Ragnarok is averted. It is over. Drop
your weapons!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 114

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The news rushed over the battlefield from Knight to dryad, from Archer to Wizard. The Loki’s
minions threw down their weapons in surrender; their glorious leader was beaten. Only Loki's
robotic troops needed to be silenced by sword, for they were programmed to fight to the end. One
by one, the gods of Aesir and Vanir approached the small band of heroes and the fallen trickster
god.

"Well met, warriors!" Odin boomed from the back of his mount. "I see you've quieted my blood-
brother."

Freya was busy wrapping the barely-conscious god of Chaos in thick, magical vines. She seemed to
find perverse pleasure in making him grunt with pain as she pulled the vines tight around him.

"I'm afraid we failed, Odin-All-Father," Vakr said sadly.

"And how is THAT, lad?" the One-Eyed god asked."The Norns set us to put things right, and bring
the weave of the world-cloth back in order... but don't the Fates say that the Fenris Wolf is to kill
you?" Vakr pointed to the hulking body of the brutish beast. "He can't do that now that he's dead."

Odin looked over at his son Thor, and they both laughed heartily.

"You did well, children," Odin exclaimed. "But no mortal can kill a god or god-born. That mangy
beast will be chained up and growling for his supper by the morning."

"But..." Vakr said, confused. "Didn't Loki attack because I killed Hel?"

"I attacked," Loki answered groggily, "Because you out-thought me. Nobody wins my games but
me."

"Shut up," Freya suggested mildly, and shoved a thick vine between Loki's teeth to gag him.

"We need to take this miscreant back to his prison," Odin told the champions. "But know this: you
are all welcome in my mead-hall. When it's your time, the Valkyries will take you to Valhalla."

Vakr panicked slightly. "All-Father? Would it be acceptable if I chose to go to Niflheim?" He blushed

slightly. "I have someone there waiting for me."

Odin winked at the wizard. "When the time comes, lad, we'll make the necessary arrangements.
Now, one last thing to do before we head home."

Odin turned his mount to face the milling armies. "Go home, all of you!" he boomed over the
battlefield. "But, my loyal warriors, take good note of those neighbors of yours who chose to fight
on Loki's side. Their greed and spite betrayed them, and they will in turn, betray you! Not one of
them will ever feast in my mead-hall!"

Loki's followers slunk off the battlefield, beaten and humiliated. Whatever lives that were left to
them would not be the pleasant ones they were hoping. The victorious army of Odin whooped and
cheered. They waved their weapons in the air triumphantly, threw off their armor and embraced
each other in congratulations.
 Ragnarok Usurped 115

Odin grinned, and waved his hand in a few mystic passes. A shimmering rainbow appeared, starting
at his feet and arced into the sky.

"The Rainbow Bridge!" Drengr said, excited.

"Aye, son," Odin agreed. "Our passage home. You did very well, and I was wise to choose you. I look
forward to sharing a pint or two with you... but not for many years to come."

Odin, Thor and the Valkyries ascended the Rainbow Bridge and set out for home. They were
followed by Odin's heroes of Valhalla. As the last of the heroes climbed the rainbow, it slowly faded
away behind him.

Freya came over to the adventurers and smiled sensually. "That was a good fight," she said. "It
really gets the blood hot!" She gestured to her brother Frey, who was bundling Loki
unceremoniously into Freya's chariot. "We're taking him back to his cavern for Odin." Then the
nature goddess leaned in towards Vakr and whispered in his ear. His eyes grew huge, and he
nodded. She took him by the hand and led him towards her chariot as well.

"Where are you going Vakr?" Tyrfingr called after him.

Vakr turned back to his friend while Freya dragged him along by his hand. "She asked me if I really
though her tits were sweet, then offered to show them to me!"
 Ragnarok Usurped 116

EPILOGUE

Home. They were finally home. Hrefna sighed with contentment and cuddled closer to her Knight
Protector. Thorvir agreeably wrapped the girl in his arms. Back in their home, back in their bed. It
couldn’t get better than this.

Hrefna’s eyes closed as of their own accord, and soon, Thorvir followed her into sleep. Only then did
Freya step through the fireplace portal into their bedchamber.

“Sleep, children,” she crooned, stroking them each across their foreheads. Freya placed a hand
against the solid wooden wall, and coaxed Yggdrasil to close the doorway to their room, sealing the
two of them in.

“Ragnarok will come, it’s Fated,” Freya whispered to the sleeping pair. “But Yggdrasil will survive…
and so will you. Use my gifts, children, and remake the world for the new gods.”

Freya blew Hrefna and Thorvir a kiss, then stepped into the fireplace portal, and back to the realms
of Vanaheim.