Misfits

Chapter 6: Fortress

Loki, Zev, and Rune surveyed the fortress-like structure that jutted from the rock wall of the largest cavern they’d seen yet. The metallic facade stood roughly seven stories high, reflecting the light from torches placed at regular intervals along the smooth walls. The top floor sported a row of small, shuttered windows. A portcullis in the center barred entry, but there were no guards visible by the gate or on the parapets.

From their hiding place behind a stony outcrop, they discussed their next move.

“I think the walls and the gate are adamantium,” Rune said to Loki. “There’s no cutting or blasting through that, even for you.”

Loki nodded. “We’ll have to wait until someone goes in or out and slip past them.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Jane?” Zev asked.

“For all we know, she’s already in there.”

“And if she isn’t?”

“First things first. Once we get Laevateinn, I’ll have more options.”

Yeah, that’s what worries me, Zev thought. Aloud, they asked, “What does that name mean, anyway? Laevateinn?”

Rune answered, “Roughly translated, it means…’damage-twig’.”

Zev snorted. “Seriously?”

A noise from one of the tunnels on the opposite side of the cavern caught Zev’s attention. “Shhh. I think someone’s coming.”

They all watched as a large company of guards emerged. Two of them were half-walking, half-dragging a much smaller figure who was having difficulty keeping up with their long, brisk strides. 

It was Jane. Loki waved his hand, casting an illusion to hide the three of them again and whispered, “Get to the gate, now!” 

They sprinted for the portcullis and stopped just beside it.

One of the guards positioned himself before the gate and raised the staff he carried. The portcullis lifted slowly until the deadly-looking spikes at the bottom hovered just above man-height. Zev and Rune followed Loki as he slipped in along the wall and sprinted into the courtyard within. The guards came in with Jane in tow. They marched her through the courtyard and escorted her through a doorway that opened onto stairs that led downward. 

Loki watched them go and then started walking toward another door on the opposite side of the courtyard. 

“Where are you going?” Zev demanded. 

“If Hades is anything like Odin, he’ll be keeping his treasures in a vault below the fortress. This looks like the most likely entrance.”

“Loki, just stop.”

Loki paused and regarded the Lycan with an expression of annoyance. “What now?” 

Rune looked from one to the other, confused.

“Just tell me the truth. Are you here for Jane or that magical thingee? If it’s the latter, fine. I’ll go after her myself.”

Loki’s face assumed a stony expression that put Zev in mind of the portcullis they’d just passed slamming shut. “You don’t stand a chance of helping her on your own,” he said, sounding as if it were of no concern to him either way.

Rune spoke up. “Loki’s right, Zev. We need Laevateinn to free Jane and get us all out of here. It’s the only way.”

Right then. Let’s do this. “Okay. Fine.” Zev turned to Loki. “Sorry, it’s just —“

“You don’t trust me. And why should you?” Loki kept walking.

“The thing is, I really want to trust you. I like you. Most of the time, anyway. You just…make it hard sometimes, you know?” 

A bit of spark returned to Loki’s eyes and the corners of his mouth curved upward. He stopped and turned back to Zev. “You sound just like my brother.”

Zev grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s debatable.” Loki turned on his heel and led the way through the doorway and down another set of stairs which led them into a round chamber with two corridors leading off it.

“I think I’ve seen this movie,” Zev said. “Let me guess…one of these pathways leads to certain death.”

“Nothing quite that dramatic, I hope,” Loki replied. “At any rate, we’re already dead.”

“Should we split up?” Rune asked. “We could search faster that way.”

“No!” Zev shook their head. “I’ve seen those movies too. We stay together.”

“Right,” Loki said, eyeing the two corridors. “Eeny, meeny, miney, mo.” He headed down the corridor to the right. 

Zev and Rune followed him. They’d gone only a short way when Zev’s sense of unease became too much to ignore. They stopped, sniffing the air and listening. 

“What is it?” Rune asked. “Something getting your hackles up?”

“Yeah, but I can’t say what, exactly.” They called after Loki, who was still walking ahead of them.

“What is it?” Loki sighed, stopping to look at Zev, clearly annoyed.

“I smell something weird, like…ozone. And burnt flesh.”

“I don’t smell anything, and I’m known for having a keen nose.”

“I’m Lycan, remember? Humans say we’re like bloodhounds.”

Zev walked up to where Loki was standing. “Yeah, it’s getting worse the farther we go. I think…Let me try something. Anybody have something to throw? Preferably organic.”

Loki sighed and conjured a large red apple. “Will this do?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Zev took the apple and threw it as far as they could in the direction they’d been walking. The apple flew about 10 feet before it vaporized in a flash of fire and sparks. 

Loki stared at the place where the apple disappeared. A few more steps, and that would have been him.

“Right,” he said. “Could be security for the vault, but perhaps we should check the other passage before we worry about how to disable it.”

They went back to the entry chamber and took the hallway to the left. This time, Zev went first.

“Do you smell anything?” Loki asked.

“No. Nothing yet.”

The hallway continued for several hundred feet and ended at top of a long spiral staircase. They followed the stairs down, Zev still in the lead.

 At the bottom was a thick adamantium door with a massive locking mechanism — but it had been left ajar.

“Careless,” Loki muttered. “Odin would’ve had the hide off anyone who left his vault unsecured, but at least we don’t have to waste time trying to open it.”

They slipped past the doorway and emerged into a narrow torchlit hall. Shelves lined the walls on either side, laden with various items: a woolly hide that glimmered gold in the torchlight, a sickle that looked to be made of adamantium, weapons of all sorts, a beautifully decorated shield. Loki paused before some of these to study them before moving on. 

Near the far end of the hall, he stopped before an iron casket with Greek lettering engraved on the top and sides. A large emerald glittered in its setting on the front of the box. 

“I think this is it,” he said. He touched the emerald, channeling a small amount of magic into it. The emerald vanished, and in its place was a metallic cylinder with five rotating knobs. Greek writing appeared above the cylinder, and the knobs had Greek letters embossed on them.

“It’s a puzzle box. This should be fun.” To Zev, he added, “Keep an eye on the door.”

Zev moved to stand closer to the door, sword ready. As they did so, Loki released the illusion disguising them all and Zev found themselves wearing their own armor and fur.

“Much better — thanks!”

Loki studied the writing. “The fame that does not fade,” he translated aloud. He paused for a moment, considering, then began spinning the knobs to form a word: κλέος. 

Rune, looking over his shoulder, said “Kleos. Glory. Good one!”

The cylinder disappeared and was replaced by a normal-looking lock. Loki inspected it, then conjured two small tools that looked like little screwdrivers, except that one ended in a simple point, while the other had a slight hook on the end. He inserted these into the lock. “Been a while since I did this,” he said. He manipulated the tools until there was a faint clicking sound from inside the lock, then he removed them. 

The lock vanished, and an old-fashioned dial combination lock took its place. Loki set the tools down, smiled to himself, signaled for quiet, and put his ear next to the lock while he slowly turned the dial, first one way, then the other. After he’d done that a few times, this lock also disappeared.

Now the front of the casket sported a panel with interlocking triangular grooves. Sliding blocks with various symbols were set into the grooves. Loki studied it for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m familiar with some of these marks, but not all of them. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“May I take a look?” Rune asked.

Loki stepped aside. “Be my guest.”

Rune studied the symbols and the arrangement. “That’s what I thought. These are old mathematical symbols. I think we’re supposed to arrange them into the correct formula. Let’s see — the ancient Greeks used geometry to solve problems. This one is a right triangle, so…” Rune continued thinking aloud while he slid the blocks along the grooves. 

As soon as the last one was in place, the puzzle faded and another five-letter cylinder appeared. 

“How many locks does that thing have?” Zev asked.

Rune translated the writing above the cylinder. “That which is not itself a means to anything, but to which all else is a means.” They all looked at each other. After a few moments, Loki stepped in and arranged the letters to form the word τέλος. “Ah,” Rune said. “Telos — purpose!”

This cylinder, too, disappeared, and was replaced by…nothing. Loki tapped on the box, puzzled. 

A whispering voice came from the casket itself.

Alone I am feared
In family, blessed
With Apollo, revered
By the moon, possessed

“Sounds like a riddle,” Rune said.

“A wolf!” Zev called, grinning.

That was apparently the correct response. Yet another five-letter cylinder appeared. Loki translated the hint: “The blessing of the martyr?” 

This one left them all stumped, until finally Rune said “I think I have it!” He manipulated the knobs to spell the word ἀγάπη. “Agape — selfless love.”

The cylinder vanished, and now there was just a simple keyhole. Loki took up the tools again and tried to pick the lock, but was unable to open it. “Must be using magic along with the mechanical,” he sighed. “We need to find the key. My guess is that it’s with Hades. If we can find him, I can try to pick his pocket.”

Rune joined Zev. “Good job on that riddle.”

Loki fiddled with the casket one more time, then picked it up and carried it under one arm as they walked back down the length of the hall. 

Before they reached the doorway, a silver-haired man stepped through. With one hand, he held a snarling three-headed dog on a leash. In the other, he held up a key.

“Looking for this?” he asked.