A Thunder of War (The Avalon Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  “Why is it that wherever we go with you it’s always bloody cold?” Diana asked.

  “Just once, I’d like to fight Avalon in the Bahamas,” Remy said.

  “You don’t like sand,” Mordred said.

  “Don’t like being shot at either,” Remy replied. “And out of the two, I’ll take sand over bullets. I’ll meet you by the car out front.” He set off at a sprint toward the overgrown bushes that lined the fence on one side of the airport.

  The rest of the group walked across the airfield to the largest nearby building, excluding the three hangars on the opposite side of the runway. They went inside and gave fake identification showing that they were affiliated with Avalon to a middle-aged woman behind the counter. Mordred had picked this airfield not because it was the closest to the town, because it certainly wasn’t, but because the staff were all human. They were aware of Avalon, but none of them gave any indication that they were actively involved with Avalon’s war.

  The group were waved through with a smile after the woman handed Mordred a set of keys to a Range Rover Discovery. Diana snatched them out of his hand the second they were all outside.

  “Hey,” Mordred said.

  “You are not driving,” Diana said.

  “Not sure why,” he replied, pouting a little.

  “You are a danger to everyone on the road. And I’d like to at least feel safe before people start trying to kill us.”

  They all got into the black Range Rover, with Diana driving, and stopped fifty feet up the road to let Remy into the back seat.

  “You know, I could have just made myself human,” he said, shaking snow from his fur as Diana set off again.

  “The only problem with that,” Mordred said, “is that you have to stay human for a period of time, and no offense, but human Remy isn’t the Remy we need right now.”

  “No offense taken,” Remy said. “I’m warmer with fur.”

  “Besides, you’d also be naked,” Diana called from the driver’s seat. “I think naked people tend to be something others remember seeing.”

  “Oh, they’d remember me naked,” Remy said with a wink.

  “And now I feel nauseous,” Mordred said, smiling.

  “Is it always like this with you people?” Hel asked from the seat behind the driver.

  “No, sometimes it’s worse,” Diana said.

  “Sometimes Mordred starts humming,” Remy pointed out.

  “I’ve heard the humming,” Hel said. “I find it oddly endearing.”

  “See,” Mordred said. “Someone else likes my humming.”

  The conversation petered off as the car drove along snowy German roads. Mordred lowered the window in the passenger seat, feeling the cold wind against his face, smelling the freshness in the air.

  “You okay, Mordred?” Hel asked him.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” he told her. “Just been a long few years. Actually a long few centuries is probably more appropriate.”

  “We’re coming up to Mittenwald,” Diana said, slowing the car to match the traffic laws of the area, although judging from the complete lack of people, it didn’t look necessary.

  “Stop the car,” Mordred said, opening the door before the car had slowed down to a complete halt and stepping outside, staring off up the street.

  “Mordred what’s going on?” Hel asked, getting out of the car.

  Mordred pointed down the road. “There’s no one here. No one. No cars are running, no people. I know it’s late, but there are no lights on in the windows either. Just street lamps.”

  Diana and Remy joined Mordred and Hel.

  “Either of you smell anything?” Mordred asked.

  Both Diana and Remy took a long sniff.

  “No people,” Remy said. “Lingering scents, but there’s nothing more recent than a few hours ago. Where is everyone?”

  They left the car and moved through the deserted town of Mittenwald as quickly as possible, but after running along several streets and finding no semblance of life, they paused at the mouth of an alleyway.

  “I have a very bad feeling about this,” Remy said.

  “You think they powered whatever weapon Abaddon is using at the compound with the people of this town?” Hel asked.

  “Yes,” Mordred said. “About ten thousand people live here.”

  “How would they get that many of them up to the compound?”

  Mordred didn’t have an answer to that question, but he couldn’t think of anything good being involved.

  The team ran through the deserted town back toward the car and climbed inside, before Diana drove slowly through toward the forest at the far end of Mittenwald. By the time they’d reached the edge of the forest, no one in the car had seen anything to suggest that anyone was left in the town.

  They drove carefully down the road that cut through the forest, until they saw a large hotel in the distance, close to Lake Ferchensee. Wolf’s Head compound was another twenty-minute drive, so Diana stopped the car outside the hotel, switching off the engine.

  “Still no one,” Mordred said, looking up at the dark hotel.

  They got out of the car again, and Mordred walked toward the hotel. He had to force open the broken automatic doors, and immediately wished he hadn’t as the smell of death hit him like a wall. He walked inside the dark foyer and lights flickered to life, revealing a room with pools of blood, and trails that went from the entrance down a nearby hallway. Mordred followed it to a large bar where bodies had been tossed carelessly into a pile.

  Remy appeared next to him. “They’re a few days old,” he said after a sniff.

  Mordred stepped around the pools of old blood and picked up a wallet on the floor, opening it to reveal a police ID. “I imagine you’ll find that everyone here is law enforcement of some description.”

  “Enyo did this,” Hel said from the entrance to the room. “I’ve seen her handiwork in the past. These people were killed with blood magic.”

  “I know,” Mordred said. “I’ve done something similar.” Mordred walked out of the hotel without another word, only taking a deep breath when he was away from the death he’d discovered. “We were too late to stop the deaths of all those people,” he said softly as Hel walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “When Cerberus called us, they must have already been murdered. They used the dead to power that weapon.”

  “Yes,” Hel told him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You think they got inside the compound?” Remy asked as he rejoined the group.

  “We need to go find out,” Diana said.

  “Not in the car,” Mordred told her, his tone purposefully neutral. “We go through on foot. Let’s not give them any idea that we’re coming.”

  The four of them ran through the dense forest toward the compound. Mordred felt a mixture of rage at what had been done and sadness for what he’d seen at the hotel.

  They were halfway through the forest when the purple mist touched them. Mordred stopped running as his power vanished. He turned around to Hel, Remy, and Diana as they each stepped into the first tendrils of mist.

  “What the actual hell?” Remy asked, dropping to his knees. “It’s like I’m exhausted.”

  Mordred had already sat down, and nodded his agreement. “No magic either,” he said.

  “This stuff is evil,” Diana said as she tried to continue walking, but had to drop to one knee after several steps when the mist became more dense.

  Hel fell toward Mordred, who did all he could to catch her, but they both ended up lying on the cold earth as the mist flowed over them.

  “What is this stuff?” Diana asked.

  “Abaddon’s weapon,” Hel said, placing her hand on Mordred’s and squeezing slightly. “We need to either escape this, or find a way to neutralize it.”

  “It’s moving down the hill,” Remy said. “Maybe it’s thinner up top.”

  “Any chance you can just use your smoke thing?” Mordred asked.

  Remy shook his head.
“Need to concentrate to do that. And this just makes me feel sleepy.”

  “I do not like being made to feel human,” Hel said, pushing up from the ground and letting out an enraged cry. “I am not some weak, helpless, meek pet. I am the god of death. The daughter of Loki. The ruler of Helheim. I will not succumb to Abaddon’s mist.”

  Mordred forced himself to sit up and grabbed Remy’s hand. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “I’m going to hurt someone for this,” Remy said, allowing himself to be pulled upright as Mordred got to his feet.

  Mordred half carried Remy for two steps, before he fell to his knees. Diana slung Remy over her shoulder as she stood up straight and started walking up the hill with purposeful strides.

  “If I’d known this is what it would take for me to be carried, I’d have found this shit a long time ago,” Remy said.

  “Shut up,” Diana said. “Concentrating.”

  Mordred half-walked, half-scrambled up the hill, forcing himself to continue as the mist became too thick to see his feet. Hel walked beside him, helping him up when he fell, and let Mordred do the same when she faltered.

  Mordred had no way of knowing just how long it took them to walk up a hill that should have taken all of two minutes, but it felt like hours, as though every step was a battle. Eventually, they made it to the top where a giant black staff sat in the middle of a small clearing. It was pumping out more of the purple mist that swirled all around the forest without affecting anything but Mordred and his team.

  With no guards nearby, they could try to destroy the staff, or at least figure out a way to stop the toxin. But the closer they got to it, the thicker the mist was, and soon Mordred felt his knees buckle. He dropped to the ground. Hel helped him back to his feet.

  If Mordred could just use his magic, he’d be able to breath the gas with no side effects, but having his magic removed made sure that was impossible. Even so, the group eventually made it to the ten-foot-tall staff. It was constructed in black-painted steel and adorned with runes Mordred couldn’t identify, which glowed dark red and purple.

  “How do we break it?” Diana asked.

  Mordred placed his hand on one of the runes and felt the power hum beneath his palm. “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do.”

  Remy removed a blade from his belt, dropped down from Diana’s shoulder, and drove the blade into one of the runes. The energy inside the staff exploded outward, throwing Mordred and his team back down the hill they’d just climbed. They tumbled through dirt and leaves as they went, until they finally hit the bottom.

  “You all okay?” Mordred asked, but he couldn’t lift his head from the ground to see where anyone was. He tried to stay awake, to get his body to move, but exhaustion claimed him as the purple mist rolled over his body, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

  12

  LAYLA CASSIDY

  Nabu was unconscious but breathing as the dwarves recreated the ceiling of the tunnel the team had fallen into.

  “My name is Vorisbo,” the female dwarf said. “We need to move.”

  Vorisbo had tattoos all over her bare arms, most of which resembled various creatures—whether they were of myth or lived in the realm, Layla didn’t know. A tattoo of a pair of green swords crisscrossed over one eye, and she had multiple earrings in both ears.

  Several dwarves appeared out of freshly made holes in the tunnel as Dralas made himself as large as possible within the confines of the tunnel, before picking up Nabu.

  “Will he be okay?” Layla asked.

  “We’ll check once we’re out of here,” Vorisbo said as she set off down the dimly lit tunnel. “So, let’s hurry.”

  Several dwarves, who were far in front, created new paths in the tunnel with their alchemy powers, and several more closed them as the group moved further and further into the mountain. Tarron remained silent throughout the journey, and Chloe occasionally took hold of Layla’s hand, squeezing it to reassure her.

  “That’s a very dangerous animal you have with you,” Vorisbo said.

  Layla stroked the saber-tooth panther on the side of the head. “She’s become bonded to me, or indebted. Something like that. I saved her from the blood elves.”

  “My father had one. Treated it like a son. You treat that cat of yours right, and it’ll stay by your side for the rest of its life. And they live long lives. About the length of a normal human back on your Earth realm. Not sure how, but people have suggested it’s to do with the realm itself.”

  The cat purred.

  “She needs a name.”

  “It’ll come,” Vorisbo said. “A name is an important thing. Don’t rush it.”

  Nabu woke up not long after, but he continued to slip in and out of consciousness, so Vorisbo went over to check. “What is he?” she asked.

  “An och,” Chloe said.

  Vorisbo visibly relaxed and drew several runes onto Nabu’s forehead. “These will keep him asleep and calm, but we should hurry.”

  Twenty minutes later the dwarves cracked open the side of the mountain and daylight flooded the tunnel. Layla blinked, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight with her hand.

  “We’re not far from our city,” Vorisbo explained.

  The group descended a long path, where three carriages waited for them. Each of the carriages was pulled by four large horses. A dozen dwarves walked out of the nearby woodlands and climbed onto the horses. Layla wondered how long they’d been there, just watching.

  “Put the och in one of those,” Vorisbo said to Dralas, pointing to a carriage, before she said something in dwarven to one of the dwarves who climbed up beside Nabu and drove away across the grassland. The rest followed at a quick pace.

  Layla looked at the grassland turning into a dense forest on one side and spreading toward another mountain range on the other. She turned back to the gigantic mountain they’d just fled, and looked up at the snow-covered peaks, most of which were enveloped with dark clouds.

  “Will he live?” Layla asked Vorisbo.

  “We’ll know more when we get back to the city. It’s a few hours of riding, which is why I sent the carriage ahead. At full speed, a carriage can move faster than the horses alone, but the dwarves who went with your friend will ensure that he’s protected.”

  “So, we’ll be going as fast as them?” Tarron asked.

  “No,” Vorisbo said. “It’s one thing to go that quickly with only one person in the back, but with more than one, we’ll move slower. Especially with the armor and weapons we’re all wearing.”

  Chloe, Layla, and Vorisbo climbed into the back of one carriage, Dralas and Tarron in the other. The panther ran behind the carriages at Layla’s request so it wouldn’t spook the horses. They started moving soon after, and Layla had a lot of questions.

  “What were the dwarves outside the mountain doing in the woods?” she asked.

  “Guarding our belongings,” Vorisbo said. “There are creatures in the forests of this realm that would find our horses a pleasant appetizer.”

  “Where did you all come from?” Chloe asked. “I didn’t know there were more dwarves here. Do you know what happened to everyone at the Sanctuary?”

  “From what I’ve been told by the survivors of the attack,” Vorisbo began, “it started about three years ago, a few years after several of your kind arrived here from the Earth realm. The blood elves attacked the city of Sanctuary like never before. Thousands of them. The people in the city weathered that storm and used the time to evacuate. They created tunnels that ran away from the city, allowing the majority of inhabitants to leave in relative safety.

  “Unfortunately, one of the dwarves in Sanctuary betrayed them by letting the blood elves into the city. They slaughtered many. The survivors moved through the mountains for weeks, until several of them ran into a patrol from our city. We took them home to Hreidmar.”

  “Hreidmar is your city?” Layla asked.

  Vorisbo nodded. “It’s the name of an old dwarven king.”
/>   “How long has your city been there?” Chloe asked. “I thought all the other dwarves ran from this realm after the blood elf attacks over a thousand years ago.”

  “Not all dwarves were in the mountain when it fell to the blood elves. Many of us were outside. We searched for survivors for years and years, but were vastly outnumbered by the blood elves and couldn’t risk a confrontation with them. We assumed there were no dwarves left inside the mountain, and so the elders decided we should create a new life for ourselves. We’ve lived in Hreidmar for a thousand years now. But enough about me, what about you? Why do you have a metal arm? Why are you in Nidavellir?”

  Chloe ran through the myriad events that had happened to the world since they were last in the realm of Nidavellir. Layla told Vorisbo about her mother and father, along with the metal arm she wore.

  “Your mother chopped off your arm?” Vorisbo asked.

  “We’re not a close family,” Layla said. “Anymore, anyway.”

  “Your mother, this Elizabeth, she relieved the last commander who was here, Baldr.” Vorisbo’s tone suggested he was not someone she liked. “Elizabeth has been trying to hunt us down. I don’t think she likes the idea of a bunch of dwarves just living their lives and occasionally going on hunts to kill blood elves without a chance for them to strike back. If she knew where the city was, we’d probably have had trouble by now.”

  “She’s gone to Helheim, we think,” Layla said. “We need to get there and help everyone.”

  “Maybe the elders at the village can help,” Vorisbo said. “I’ll be more than happy to organize a war party to go back to the mountain and take that elven gate. I saw your shadow elf friend, by the way—pretty weird to see one of their kind around.”

  “By weird, you mean it doesn’t happen, I assume?” Chloe asked.

  “Will there be trouble?” Layla asked.

  “He’s not a blood elf. He had no part in what they did. He’ll be fine. Dwarves aren’t humans—we don’t hold grudges against people who don’t deserve it.”

  Layla looked out of the carriage window as the conversation flowed between Vorisbo and Chloe. She was worried about Nabu. He was pretty much the closest person she’d ever met to a true immortal, but the wound had looked bad, and she had no idea what the weapons made with fragments of the crystal would do to his body. Och were rare. In fact, Layla wasn’t even sure there was another one.