Eric Flint: Pyramid Power

"Uncle Fox!" said Thrud.

Sigyn nodded. "Yes, dear. He's like that. It is an aspect of caring, I suppose. I'll bet he told Jormungand to take care of us. Probably to take us somewhere safe."

"Hurry up, Jerry," said Thrud. "Draw those runes and let's go and prove my father and uncle wrong."

Jerry clambered around the cave-mouth, making the symbol for ice, the symbol for sea-drawn in salt, because salty ice is much colder-and, of course, Ansuz, nine times.

Why did they have such a fixation on nine?

He then got out his funnel-shaped piece of paraphernalia, already suitably inscribed with runes, and took the stopper-piece of ice from the insulated bag. The problem, as Lamont had seen it, was that ice floated. It had to be a very rough edged hole for it to jam well enough to stay there.

It was apparent that Jormungand had her own ideas too. As Jerry finished his chant, and dropped the ice-plug, she swung her tail at the rocky bluff, and tumbled a thirty-ton lump of rock into the churning water.

Ice formed around the rim of the hole, and then Jormungand's rock tumbled into the hole so hard that the ground shook. Ice grew around it.

"Run," said Thrud, sensibly grabbing Jerry's arm and hauling him back from the edge of the river.

As it was he got his boots wet. But millions of gallons of water were already starting to back up.

"Time to go Odin hunting," said Jerry.

Frey rode forward in his chariot, drawn by his golden-bristled boars. Thor looked down on him, rather disdainfully, from the ?sir-SUV.

Frey swallowed. "Some wheels, Oku-Thor."

It was a fair comment. The wheels were large, to cope with stones, and they had spokes-weighing less than a quarter of what Thor's old solid wheels had weighed-and they had metal rims. They had leaf-springs too, and independent axles. "And with me driving it does no gallons per mile, now that I've stopped drinking. My artificer says that's better than any vehicle in America."

"Where is America?" asked Frey.

"Don't know. A place they drink a lot, but make great chariots."

"And the dog with the nodding head on the back of the chariot?"

Thor threw out his palms. "It's one of the magical mysteries, like the go-faster stripes and the sides of the wheel being painted white. But Garm says that he likes to travel by chariot. Loki asked me to give you your sword back."

He handed the weapon over. "Now, do we attack Surt?"

Frey nodded. "I never really believed it, when Ratatosk brought us word. But my father trusts him."

Loki came trotting out of the smoke. "Frey, I want you to take the east flank. Oku-Thor will take the west. And I am going to meet them in the middle. That's where they'll least expect me. And brace yourselves. We're going to be fighting in the rain."

"Rain?"

"Our Thor is a thunder-god. He can do rain if he wants to. He's drawing it now from the west. It would be better from the north, but it's too cold up there."

Loki turned to Emmitt. "Give Frey the slow count to thirty and sound the advance."

"I don't know how to play that," said Emmitt uncertainly.

Loki grinned. "The horn does. And you're a better player than Gold-teeth."

Frey turned his boar-drawn chariot. Thor looked at the mess on the thin snow. "He needs better emission control on that thing."

Among the Vanir, horns sounded. And then Emmitt raised Gjallarhorn and blew.

Even the smoke seemed to shiver.

Oku-Thor urged Tanngnjost and Tanngrisnir into a trot and then into a gallop. Emmitt saw how he drew his hammer and gripped it in one metal-gauntleted hand while he handled the chariot with the other. All of a sudden, he didn't look at all like a fat recovering alcoholic. He looked like…

Well. Thor. The Thor. He was really pretty scary.

Lightning cracked and the thunder roared and echoed. Ahead, like a huge red wall, were the fire giants out of Muspellheim. Their swords flamed.

And hissed and spluttered a lot, as the rain suddenly came in from behind them.

"Hold tight and keep blowing!" bellowed Thor.

Emmitt would remember the next half an hour vividly for the rest of his life. Partly he would remember it as total confusion, and thunder, and blowing the great horn, but mostly for the vivid little snatches of Thor, radiating lightning, and smashing giant heads like watermelons. There were a lot of giant heads, but without their fire they were fairly feeble swordsmen.

Still, there seemed an endless supply of them. And even through the rain Emmitt caught glimpses of occasional fires. Something was still burning.

Burning hot.

Eric Flint Dave Freer

Pyramid Power

The task of finding Odin was temporarily delayed by two things. The first was the need to avoid the rising water. The second was that the heavens seemed to have opened. In the rain it was hard to find their own way, let alone locate anyone else.

They fought their way uphill. There was lightning about, but it all seemed to be to the east somewhere. "Papa," said Thrud proudly. "Look at that!"

Sheets of lightning lit up the sky. "I feel almost sorry for the fire giants," she added, not sounding sorry at all.

The rain did seem to be slackening off by the time they got up the rise. They could see a short distance now, far enough to see that the Gjallar river had already filled its gorge and was spilling out onto the fenlands next to the wall.

"Well, at least I know where we are now," said Thrud. "Odin's Valholl lies over that ridge."

"He's not likely to be there, though," said Jormungand, peering through the rain.

"Two of the life-sources from outside this Ur-world have penetrated your walls," said the Krim device. "And you need to intervene in the battle on the plain. It goes badly for Surt."

"I am Lord of Battles, Thing. Don't try to tell me what to do." Odin had long since banished the Krim persona and taken complete charge of himself. "Even if Surt falls, the walls of Asgard cannot be taken by frost or mountain giants. They are stuck outside."

"Except that two of your enemies are inside, I told you."

"Mortals?"

That was what Odin termed life-sources. "Yes."

Odin took Gungnir and stood up. "Thjalfi, bring those retainers of yours. You've got some of your own kind to deal with."

Odin-Krim did not seem to understand. What had been done so far, raising the old altars, reenacting the old myths with believers had reanimated this Mythworld. It would inevitably start to slowly fade without non-Ur-Mythworld believers importing energy into the system. Such a construct was energy expensive. It might be stable enough for a few hundred years, but real stability, the kind the Krim liked, took far more energy. A lot more belief and a lot more lives, both within and from outside.

Dripping wet, Marie led her Valkyrie troop into Bilskriner, Thor's home.

Nobody was at home, except for the stable thrall, Lodin. He swallowed hard at the sight of her.

"The master is away." Lodin rose hastily from in front of a fire he probably wasn't supposed to be sitting at, looked at her guiltily and put down a foaming horn. "It was so cold and wet, and with even the goats gone, and Ragnarok here I thought…"

Marie waved him to sit. "We've brought three hundred and eleven horses for you to look after. And I reckon you deserve a raise and some decent living quarters. And we're all starving. Any food in the place?" The truth was, she wasn't starving. But maybe food would help her with the light-headedness.

"Lots of smoked salmon. And some flattbrod."

"Excellent," said Marie, vaguely wondering what flattbrod was. "Let's get the horses in and eat. Brynhild will organize food and some more fires. Lodin, drink up and come and open the stables, and you can tell me where that husband of mine has got to."