Ambush
After only two days of detention in our rooms, there was a pounding at the doors. Breakfast had already been brought in that morning and it was still some time before lunch should arrive. Malalik glanced around at us, seeing that we were all giving our full attention, then opened the door to find a lone palace guard.
“The presence of your senior diplomat is required immediately,” zie announced. “To be accompanied by one guard only.”
I couldn’t help wincing. It seemed very likely that my expedition with Loki to free Ragnar of the geas had been discovered, since if Thor had brought a captive back we would all have been summoned. Aizerue had evidently come to the same conclusion, as e stood up and nodded to me.
Even during our confinement, our elders had insisted that we guards continue to wear our armor during the time that would have been used for the negotiations, for practice and in case of an emergency. To be fair, they’d also worn their own ceremonial robes and adornments, so we couldn’t complain that we were being burdened unjustly. And, as it turned out, it had been a very good idea.
The guard stepped aside to let us out. Once the doors were closed again, zie led us down the hall at a brisk walk. I noticed a flicker in my aetheric senses, and identified Loki’s tracer pattern following us. I found it vaguely reassuring, and wondered if the Jotun would be waiting when we arrived.
Soon we were walking along unfamiliar corridors and seemed to be heading deeper into the palace, into spaces that felt unusued or even abandoned. All of us had been on edge during our enforced wait, which I suspect contributed to Aizerue and myself not being as wary as we should. I was feeling increasingly uneasy about this situation, but at first I assumed it was from worries that I personally might have jeopardized the mission, or that I’d made some kind of mistake and gotten Loki into trouble. As we walked, the nagging feeling of something being very wrong grew. The guard’s aura showed tightly controlled anxiety, which made sense if zie was expecting resistance or argument, but zir own worried swirling was increasing, rather than lessening. As I thought about it, I remembered that we’d never seen any guards in official functions alone; they always appeared at least in a pair, if not an entire squad.
By this time we were approaching the core of the palace, the ancient stone structure that the modern building had grown from. The hallways here were narrower, the lighting not as bright. I slowed my pace and put out a hand to Aizerue as my instinctive sense of danger finally came to the forefront. The diplomat gave me a questioning look, but then glanced around the hallway and nodded, understanding my caution.
I’d expected the guard to stop as we slowed down and insist that we continue to hurry, but instead zie looked back at us over zir shoulder and then took off running down the corridor. We stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.
“That’s a bad sign,” Aizerue said, eir voice perfectly calm but aura blazing with suddenly activated wards, just before two figures came around the corner of the hallway before us and passed the guard who dodged past them and vanished around the bend.
“And this is worse,” I said, looking back to see three more people standing at the other end of the hallway through the flare of my own wards.
The two blocking the hallway ahead appeared to be Thor and one of the Warriors Four, with the three behind us making up the rest of the set. A quick aetheric double-check confirmed that these were illusions cast over strangers, two of whom were not Aesir at all. On the other claw, that same check also showed that “Thor” was not an illusion, but was somebody who had actually shape-shifted into the form of Odin’s heir. The implications of this were worrying, but more so was the fact that the impostor was carrying a Spellbreaker—a weapon designed specifically to disrupt and destroy aetheric patterns. It’s one of the few types of weapons that can badly injure or even outright kill one of our kind in a single hit by a skilled opponent.
Aizerue had assessed the situation even more quickly than I had. “I can’t shift to my true form here,” e said, moving so that e was facing the opponents in back. “I’m sorry, Sigynazor.”
I nodded, swallowing past a lump in my throat, before realizing that e probably couldn’t see me and making a verbal acknowledgment. We’d drilled and trained for similar situations, and I knew what was expected of me. I would engage “Thor” and his entourage, making as much of a spectacle as possible, while Aizerue shifted into a smaller, faster, and invisible form, leaving behind an illusion of emself and escaping. Unfortunately, the fact that “Thor” had a Spellbreaker greatly lowered my chances of surviving the next few minutes.
Though it’s possible to retain clothing and items when shapeshifting, it usually requires extra attention and energy, which I couldn’t spare at the moment. Instead, as I shifted I destroyed my armor, dissolving it into a cloud of fine particles which I gathered up and flung at the unknown shifter as my transformation completed. There wasn’t room for my preferred battle form at its true size, but I decided it would suffice at a smaller scale. I left off the wings as well, since there was no way to use them in the narrow hallway. By the time “Thor” cut through the dust of my armor, he was confronted with a bipedal dragon nearly filling the corridor in front of him, powerful back claws braced into the stone, sharp foreclaws spread, spiked tail flicking. I spread my frills, large jaws gaped open, and roared at my opponents. The impostor looked unimpressed, but his companion took several steps back, eyes wide.
Behind me, I sensed that Aizerue had created and used an aetheric pattern to trap the three opponents behind us. “Pass me one of them,” I said in our native language. There was a surge of energy as Aizerue hauled one of the attackers, still immobilized in a shroud of fine webs, along the floor and into my grasp. I easily picked the body up and threw it at “Thor.” In the same motion, I darted forward and grabbed the fighter standing next to the shifter with my foreclaws, dragging him back down the corridor to my starting position. By the time the fake Aesir had untangled himself from his helpless companion, the warrior I’d grabbed was dead and tossed aside. Again, I made a threat display and roared, now spattered with blood. There was another stirring of aetheric currents behind me as Aizerue transformed and fled down the hallway.
“Thor” remained unmoved by my performance. He’d badly wounded his own comrade in the scuffle, but he pushed the gasping body aside and faced me squarely. His aura was a blank mask of white static. We watched each other in tense silence. Between the Spellbreaker he held, his own obvious aetheric talent, and the impression of age and experience he radiated, I was the one who felt intimidated. He smiled, sensing my fear, and shifted slightly. I tried to prepare for his attack, but instead he glanced over my shoulder with a startled expression.
From the corridor behind me, a familiar voice shouted “Left!” I lurched to my left as quickly as possible, hunching against the wall, as two small slivers of bright white light flew past. Unfortunately “Thor” had been warned by the shout as well, and he batted one of the darts aside with his sword. The glow around it burst and a simple small dagger skittered down the hallway past him. He wasn’t able to stop both of the missiles, though, and the other one hit him in his leg.
I didn’t dare try to attack him physically while he still held the Spellbreaker. Instead, while he was distracted with his new opponent, I reached down and grabbed the spiked mace that had been held by the warrior I’d killed. As the impostor snarled, reaching down to pull Loki’s dagger out of his leg, I threw the weapon at him. He turned aside, deflecting it with his shoulder, but another glowing knife buried itself in his exposed arm, making him drop the sword.
I immediately snaked my head forward, snapping at his arm to prevent him from picking up the sword again, and was rewarded with a painfully hard punch to my snout. I yelped, but kept pushing down the corridor, forcing him back with slashing claws and teeth to separate him from the weapon. I tried to kick the Spellbreaker behind me, but the blade seemed to turn with a mind of its own and sliced into my foot. Screeching, I lost my balance and slammed into his chest, shoving him backwards several feet.
“I’ve got it!” called the voice from behind me. I gave “Thor” one final shove, sending him staggering down the corridor, and backed away, limping and trailing blood from my injured foot. AS I retreated, Loki stepped in front of me, holding the Spellbreaker like a shield and a pair of glowing knives in his other hand.
The person disguised as his brother glared at him, then flung out a hand, releasing a pair of aetheric patterns. Loki slashed at them with the sword, but they darted around both of us and hit their targets, the attacker’s comrades still trapped in webs behind us. Aizerue shimmered into view and knelt next to one of the warriors. I looked back at the impostor to see that he’d already cut the throat of his own wounded cohort, and was weaving another pattern—this one targeted on himself. I tried to cast a tracer on him, but he vanished before I could complete the weave and my spell found only empty air where he’d been standing.
Loki turned back to me, but I couldn’t help flinching away from the Spellbreaker in his hand. He glanced at it, then opened a small portal and put it inside. “I’ll store it in a safe place,” he said, closing the portal with a gesture. I relaxed as soon as I felt the weapon’s presence fade, then winced and sat down heavily on my haunches, rolling to rest my weight on my uninjured side.
“Don’t shift,” Aizerue said as e approached me, then bent to inspect the wound on my foot. “It might cause the pattern disruption to spread. We’ll have to reweave it in your current form.” All of us startled, then relaxed as a squad of palace guards clattered around the far corner. “Will you stay and appraise them of the situation?” Aizerue asked Loki, who nodded. “Then I will fetch one of our healers as quickly as possible. Allow no aetheric works to be cast on zir until we return, even pain blockers.” I sighed, then began to meditate in an attempt to diminish the pain as Loki hurried to intercept the guards and Aizerue slipped past them, racing back down the hall.