Copyright Ⓒ 2018 by B. Bailey All Rights Reserved

Sera

"The fact that the Spear was moved means that the thief is familiar with the Academy. Only a Half Blood or someone with the blood of the Muighs' could have moved it without getting burned. They have to have a fire in the veins. Clearly, they knew how to navigate around the Guards. At best, we can say they have an informant on the inside assisting them. It is likely that the thief themselves is a Guard or a Half Blood who attended the Academy."

None of the other Gods or Jotuns can hold it? Only the Fire Jotuns. That's news to me.

"Well, there are fire elementals from Muspel who can hold it. They did help craft it," Unn explains thoughtfully, tapping his knee. "Although I doubt any are still alive. They're fairly rare since they fight each other so much. Most are in hiding from their own kind, keeping to their own domains."

"And you say that you and, as far as you know, the Guards, have gaps in your memory that cannot be recovered?"

"Yes."

Unn crosses his arms, a scowl cutting across his face. "There aren't many means to remove or prevent memories from Gods and powerful Half Bloods."

"Tyr suspects it was water from the river Lethe."

"That is a possibility but, the time to handle that much water, and getting the amount precise for over a dozen Guards...it is a stretch. And for Half Bloods...the effects on mortals is drastically different. That would require a highly skilled team."

"For that speed and efficiency...it might have been aerosolized, to control how much was consumed," Delaney states, her hands fluttering in the air. "Like that trick, we saw on the first battlefield. Remember? One of the Fire Elementals did that with water he had poisoned and, after all of the opponents fell, he used his power to burn off the remainder, swooping in and killing the fallen enemies."

"The first battlefield we stepped onto..." Xerxes breathes, his eyes clearing as he recalls the memory.

"Using fire to make the Lethe into steam, immobilizing opponents. That would have to be a fire elemental then. The Muighs' flames aren't hot enough to vaporize the waters of the Underworld," He turns to me, his attention perking at my confused expression. "Their flames are powerful but are held within the confines of their being. Elementals can summon the very essence of the energy and manipulate it. The Waters of the Underworld were made to be unhindered so nothing can destroy them. Altering the form is incredibly difficult. With the rivers cutting through Muspel, the water has to have a naturally high resistance otherwise half of that realm would have a fog that would brainwash the natives."

Really? The 12 rivers of the Underworld do pass through Nifleheim and Muspelheim, although I have never personally gotten close enough to inspect them.

"Yes, there was no mist around those shores. That Realm is dry and hot." Xerxes confirms with a stiff nod of his head.

"I don't think I ever saw that move but the once," Unn states, tapping his chin. "That was the only time I saw him on the battlefield. He preferred to leave the fighting to his allies and Thor. Thor loves to have the first spot on a battlefield."

"Loki just doesn't like to fight unless he has an assured victory. That river move kept his wife safe. That's the only reason he went out."

"Loki?" I ask, not sure I heard her correctly. "No, he's a God. Not an Elemental."

"No, Loki is a Fire Elemental, not a God. He parades himself around as a God for the fun of it after he joined Aesir, who saved his homeland from the A-muigh, who at that time were trying to take over. We helped save his wife and he's been our trusted ally ever since. A troublesome, annoying ally but an ally nonetheless."

"He's a member of the Guard," I mutter, feeling ice run through my body. There's no way. He's grown up watching over us, laughing and playing games, teaching us everything he knows. Why would he betray us? He wouldn't.

But...how many Fire Elementals can there be with inside knowledge of the Guards and Tugadh Solais Acadamaidh?

No. It's impossible.

"How many did you know? Fire Elementals, even halflings?" I sputter, feeling numb.

Unn tips his head to the side, each passing drilling into my skull. "16 total. Their numbers have declined since then. I'm afraid that I'm not sure how many there are now Seraphina."

"No."

That can't be right. He's my mentor. My Guardian. My friend.

"It was a Fire Elemental, of that I am certain. Steam would be the smallest, easiest to control dose. You'll have to follow that lead. Tell Xerxes of that, in person. The Guards are compromised. This information is the Xerxes and Xerxes alone."

"You must also tell him to watch the Underworld closely. It is possible that the Spear is not the sole goal."

"What do you mean?" My mind is so jumbled right now that I can't even understand what the Founders are trying to tell me.

"The Spear is not a singular weapon Seraphina. It was designed to consume and, thank the True Father, the Jotuns never realized the true horror of what they created. The Spear is not pure destruction. It has two parts – the spearhead and the shaft. The shaft is what creates the flames that destroy. The spearhead severs, separating the Soul, Body, and Power. There were many who died impaled on its shaft, as in the spearhead passed through the bodies of the victims. Those were beings who were so powerful that the flames of the spear had to be placed inside of them to devour."

"The Jotuns made it out of Elder Wood, from the third Root of Yggdrasil that passes through Jotunheim. The spearhead and shaft were then re-assembled and imbued with the flames of Muspel, giving the Blazing Spear of Blood it's unique dual abilities." Unn explains gravely.

"That's why we had to steal it," Xerxes interceded, running a hand over his charred face. "Even if it killed us. The Jotuns wanted power and the only way they knew to attain it was by devouring. They never realized that they had a way to steal energy in its original form right in front of them the entire time."

"Steal energy?" What does he mean by that? How would that even be possible?

"Jotuns absorb power and convert it into their Dharana. So it can only take one form and, no matter how much they absorb, there is a maximum limit to how much energy they can put out at once. Usually the more power they have the longer they can fight at their maximum power. When fighting Gods they can eat them and gain power but their souls, which house the cores of their power, are reincarnated, thus they do not attain the restoration ability of that power."

"So, the Jotuns are limited in the length of the stamina boost and in the way they can fight." Which means that if they separated the power, they could use it independently? That can't be right.

"If the spearhead were to be used on its own, the power would become isolated and the beings souls would remain trapped in the Underworld, unable to reincarnate. The power would be outside of their control and the being who separated the two could make it their own, using it as it is instead of having it morph into the fixed form their body supports."

"Xerxes needs to be made aware of that dual nature. It is possible that he already suspects it but, without seeing it in action, he would have no reason to question the Spears nature. We made a decision to never reveal that nature unless we deemed it necessary."

"If this is the goal of the thief," Delaney warns, leaning towards me. "Then they have to apprehend the preparator and move the Spear. If someone were to try and separate the two without a powerful, stable ground and proper sealing agent the flames of the Spear would be released, no longer held back by the spearhead, and would devour until there was nothing left. That is the power that the Jotuns and Dark Norns placed in the shaft. Entire planets would be destroyed."

Oh my goodness.

"That is our final counsel, Lady Seraphina. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Dots swirl across my vision as I grow light-headed, realizing that I don't have the energy to keep the meeting going.

"No, that was all of the assistance that I needed from you Xerxes the Red King and Unn, the first Leader of the Lifs. Thank you for your guidance. I do have another question for you, Delaney if that is alright?"

"Yes. Ask, Lady Seraphina."

I wait until Xerxes and Unn have left before stating my question.

"How do you tell the difference between a vision of a possible future and a flashback caused by stress?"

She smiles, her eyes glowing as she reaches out, holding my face. "I thought that I saw a kindred spirit in your eyes, Lady Seraphina. You have True Sight." As the most powerful Seer of the Founders, I figured she would be the best person that I could ask for advice who wouldn't make a big deal about my ability.

"Your heart already knows the difference Seraphina. It is your self-doubt that is clouding your mind. Trust yourself and you will know the truth. That is my final counsel."

She brushes my forehead before fading away.

"Wait! That wasn't an answer!" But she's already gone, fading with the colors of the room, ending the communion.

Dejection fills my heart as I walk down the hallways, too overwhelmed to think clearly. Broken images race through my mind of the Spear, Quinn, and fire, all fighting each other for my full attention.

As I reach the hall of Stones, where Svartalheim keeps it's records, I find Marco along the wall with the newer memories. Reaching out, I gasp as the horrible truth reveals itself, drawing my hand back from the wall as if it's burned me.

"I have to get home. Now!" There's no time to waste. Running down the halls, I race, taking the steps two at a time until the entrance room finally comes into view below.

Sighing heavily as I lean against a column to catch my breathe, I wipe my forehead, clearing the line of sweat that was threatening to drip into my eyes. The entrance room shimmering below me helps relax the tension straining my body as I realize how close I am to heading home.

After a quick glance, I see that the Light Elves are gone, so I cross the room at a brisk trot, taking hold of all my willpower to not run away at full speed. Once I reach the doorway I search a tiny side pocket on my trousers, pulling out a condensed calorie bar and then unclip a flask from my belt with my other hand, gulping down fresh mineral water before taking a huge bite of my chocolate bar.

I don't know what could be waiting on the roadside after I exit the Void so its best to make sure I regain as much strength as possible while I'm in a safe area.

A blood-curdling scream shatters the calm, making me jump so high that I almost drop my flask.

It's not uncommon for spirits to scream as the leave the first level, preparing to enter the Afterlife through the archway in the Underworld. I've never heard anyone this distraught before. Heartbroken sobs make me lower my third bar, too upset to take another bite as a troubled Spirit confronts their end.

"NO! I can't be dead! I can't be! I was with my family and friends! We were having fun! What happened? How did I get here? How could I die?! It's impossible!"

Chills race up my spine, breaking my flesh into goosebumps. That voice...it almost sounds familiar...

"No, please! I can't die! My mother protected me! Everything on Earth promised not to harm me, which means nothing of related material from any planet can harm me!"

BALDUR?!

A group of 12 silvery Norns escort the familiar white-haired God out of a hallway at the far end of the room, dragging him across the entrance hall. I stand frozen, wondering if this is a hallucination from the stress of the communion, until he turns his head, his soft blue watery behind his tears.

It is Baldur!

"What are you doing here?" I shout, lurching forward. "You can't die!"

He shakes his head, not hearing me, as he continues to struggle. Then, with one last shove, he crosses the threshold of the Tasglainn, disappearing into the fog.

My feet move before I can think about what I'm doing, and then I'm in the fog too, running faster than I've ever run before, silver sparkling all around me as I race after my friend.

Shadows dance at the corners of my sight but I ignore them, searching for the way out, feeling my stomach lurch unpleasantly as a bridge appears above the fog moments before solid ground slams under my feet.

The dark sky lets me know that it's nighttime, making this crossroads this most dangerous place for me to be right now. Looking to my left, I rove the distance between myself and the arch in the distance, trying to find Baldurs' fluff of white hair among the black terrain.

My instincts make me roll to the right, tucking into a tight ball as I pull on my baldric, flipping my trusty shield to the front of my body. Grinding sounds, the deep resonance of bone against metal.

A Dullahan.

Re-focusing my mind, I scan the area, my heart skipping a beat as I find not one, but two Dullahans, riding out from the sides of the crossroad. They're both far away, how is a bone...? The grinding continues, clinking against my shield in equal measures. Bone segments? A bone whip? The only Dullahan with a whip is a General, one of 13 recruiters who seek and retrieve bodies to re-animate, using a cursed spine to infect the body with black magic, creating a new Dullahan. Bodies that have been marked by a necromancer.

The ultimate hit because the body and soul become trapped, never crossing over completely and, being too badly infected with dark magic, untraceable through any means, so no one would be able to say for certain that you are dead. The head is mutated too much it's as unrecognizable as the soul held within the form.

Spirits record their memories in the Tasglainn where a trained professional can read them when they cross over and, if held in the Underworld long enough, a Spirit can be summoned directly and asked questions. Dullahans are trapped in their bones, making an extra hard monster of scary power and resilience, and, since they never truly die, their memories aren't recorded until the head is destroyed.

In short, it's the ultimate way to keep the information quiet.

Someone put a hit out for me, bringing forth two of the most elite assassins in the Underworld.

Someone knew I would be here and had them waiting. Someone who knew that I was here, not at home. The matrix is still up, otherwise, I would have been retrieved from the Tasglainn directly. My mind races, connecting all of the pieces.

It's not a coincidence. No, it isn't. Not if they knew I'm here!

The traitor. The filthy traitor! He knows I'm not at home, that the being there is a fake! He knew I was coming here the whole time! That Dullahan before, with the crazy strength, all of those monsters on the way down. I know the Roots draw them in at this time of year yet, even with all of my seals and wards, I was up to my eyeballs in monsters every night! I had to go out and fight to thin the herd just so we could take off safely each morning!

I brushed off the brightness of the rainbow that day, with it glowing so vividly near sundown. The couple, choosing that exact time, so close to the city, when I was the most worn down, following a rainbow no one could miss, a rainbow that was too bright for that time of day. A Dullahan of unnatural strength going after them, and no banshee companion present. Banshees are almost always near a Dullahan on the hunt, reveling in the fear they create as they drink the petrified screams of the dying.

It wasn't hunting for stray humans – the event was designed to catch me by surprise and kill me!

Careful planning, manipulation, undeniable access to restricted information and indirect combat to eliminate an enemy. I know those tactics. I remember each lesson he taught me vividly.

"LOKI!" I shout, rage cutting through my fear, making my vision flood a violent blood red as my heart ignites into a terrifying inferno. "YOU - YOU!"

Try to kill me? Try to steal a weapon that can kill millions of lives? Guiding the humans to commit genocide against Half Bloods? Of course, he is the Trickster, the God of Deceit, who is so deceitful as to pass himself off as a God, after pretending to be a Jotun!

He killed Quinn! He set it all up perfectly, knowing just how to play us, to make us move in the direction he needed.

"AHH!"

Summoning my sword, I coat my whole body with opal, encasing my shield and sword, ready to face the evil charging at me with everything I have because I know realize this isn't a crossroads - it's one path leading to a massacre.

Escape isn't an option. Loki spun a lethal web, snaring me between enemies and a hostile terrain I have no hope of outrunning. That doesn't mean that I'm going to give up and let him win, not without fighting with everything that I have.

I'm a Half Blood. Fighting monsters is my life. I realize now that I can't escape that, no matter what I'm doing or what Realm I'm in. It's not just the matter of them coming after me; there are other people out there who honestly can't win without a high cost, if at all, like the Guards for that caravan of travelers who couldn't even make it into the forest in time to save that couple. They'd have never defeated that Dullahan on their own when they finally came face to face with it.

As long as I have family and friends who are in danger, I can't stand aside and do nothing. I can't give up. I can't let myself die now.

I will not allow myself to lose.

If Loki thinks my tale is over, he's wrong. My story is just beginning.