A Snake's Path (A Snake's Life Book 2) Page 5

  Ayla and Hali knelt beside her and used their magic to ease her muscle aches and replenish some of her magic.

  “Thanks again for going this far for me, Fin. I know you would’ve rather stayed with the old man,” Ayla said quietly. “You can go back to him as soon as you’re able—ouch!” Ayla grabbed her head and glared down at Findral. “Why’d you hit me?”

  “Because you’re being a prat. I already disobeyed master’s orders by taking you away. Leaving you now would be a betrayal of my promise to him, and that’s a line I refuse to cross.”

  “Fin’s right,” Hali said, interrupting Ayla before she had a chance to speak. “Do you have any idea how pissed Torga’s gonna be when he finds out we ditched mom and dad?”

  “He’ll get over it,” Ayla replied flippantly. “He left me alone for eighteen months, What’s a few more weeks? Besides, we’re heading to the same place anyway. With Fin on our side, we’ll easily beat them to Asgard City and force the old man to accept that we aren’t the burdens he seems to think we are.”

  Hali and Findral gave Ayla a skeptical look.

  “Trust me, nothing’s gonna happen.”

  They gave Findral half an hour to rest before they set out towards Millhall. It was what passed for nighttime on Asgard, and the ever-present rainbow in the sky had dimmed considerably. After entering through the main gates, they made their way over to a portly man in a guard uniform and asked for directions to the inn so they could finally get some rest. None of them had had a wink of sleep in almost twenty-four hours and Findral was looking like a stiff breeze would knock her over.

  "I wouldn't if I were you, little missy," the man replied immediately.

  "Why not? It has beds available, right?"

  "O' course, it does. But there’s been odd stirrings in the forest lately and talk o’ the Jötnar returning has everyone on edge. My advice would be for tha three of ya to either head towards the capital immediately, or hustle back tha way you came. ‘Tis not safe ‘ere.”

  "I'm sure we can handle ourselves, but thank you for the warning, all the same. Now, about that inn?"

  The guard rolled his eyes but gave her what she wanted and sent them on their way. “’Tis your funeral,” he muttered before they were out of earshot.

  The three walked until they reached the inn. When Ayla pushed open the old wooden door, she was quite surprised to find the inside packed with people of all races. They appeared to be having a party of some kind, as they were chanting and singing loudly to each other.

  She forced her way through the crowd to the desk on the opposite side of the room, where she found a small man standing behind the desk.

  "How may I help you?" he asked without looking up from the glass he was wiping with an old cloth.

  "I'd like three rooms, or a single room with three beds," she said.

  After hearing her words, the man's head bobbed up and down. He pulled out three brass keys from beneath his desk and sat them on the counter in front of him. “That’ll be forty silver pieces.”

  Though she thought the price was steep, she reluctantly pulled out the correct amount of coins and passed them to him. He counted the coins in front of her, then slid the keys over to her side of the counter and led them upstairs to a set of rooms. “Breakfast will be ready when the crimson light brightens,” he informed them before turning and returning to whatever party was going on downstairs.

  “Goodnight,” Findral muttered as she pulled a key from Ayla’s hand. She entered her room without another word and locked the door behind her.

  “Goodnight, Ayla.” Hali also took her key from Ayla and entered her room a few moments later.

  Ayla sighed tiredly, then went to bed.

  A CACOPHONY OF SCREAMS woke Findral from a wonderful dream involving her and her master. She rolled out of bed naked as the day she was born and approached the window.

  Mutilated corpses of the villagers lay strewn about the streets, while other corpses—presumably, those of their neighbors and fellow villagers—consumed the flesh of the living.

  Now, on Yggdrasil, it wasn't uncommon to hear stories of undead: corpses brought back to life by some manner of foul magics. Findral had even run into a couple during their various adventures over the years... But never this bad. Sure, a zombie or two here and there wasn't too awful. One on one, a normal villager could take down a zombie, provided they had a weapon and were smart enough to keep the zombie’s teeth away. But something told her these weren't normal zombies. For one, they were fast—easily faster than a normal human, and maybe even faster than a horse. And the second thing that led her to believe they weren't normal zombies: They seemed to ooze cold from their very pores. The corpses they were feasting on had turned blue from the chill in the air, and the blood that ran through the streets appeared to be frozen over.

  She let out a long, slow hiss of anger at the needless deaths before her, then grabbed her robe from the back of the chair where she’d left it the night before and threw it on, foregoing the usual outfit she wore beneath it. If she needed it, she could always come back for it later.

  She exited her room and knocked heavily on the doors to Hali and Ayla’s rooms. They each answered after five knocks, and she explained what she’d seen.

  “Damn it.” Ayla hissed. “Go see if you can save anyone, Fin. Hali and I will join you as soon as we’re able—”

  “Not a chance in hell.” Findral interrupted. “My duty is to protect you two, not the townsfolk. As regrettable as it may be, whether they live or die isn’t my concern.”

  “Fin—”

  “No, Ayla,” Hali said in a guilty tone. “Fin can’t leave us, or she’ll be breaking her promise to Torga.”

  “To hell with that promise!” Ayla hollered. “Get your ass out there and save those people!”

  “No,” Fin replied immediately. “You want them saved, you better get your elven ass ready and get a move on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Ayla cursed Findral’s name but did move to get dressed and ready for combat. Minutes later, she and Hali left their room and the three of them made their way downstairs.

  The first thing they saw upon entering the dining room took Findral’s breath away.

  The skinny man from the night before was knelt on top of a table with his back to them. In front of him lay a little girl. Her light blue dress was stained with blood, and her brown ringlets created a halo above her head.

  The sound of flesh being ripped apart filled the room. The skinny man’s head whipped around at the sound of Ayla’s gasp. He had a dismembered arm hanging limply from his lips, which he released as soon as his eyes met theirs. His were the color of freshly fallen snow and, now that he was looking at them, Findral could see that his skin had taken on a bluish hue.

  He opened his mouth, revealing blood-stained teeth, and hissed at them.

  “Fuck off,” Findral hissed. A wave of fire exploded out from her outstretched hand, instantly reducing both the man and the child to ashes, along with approximately thirty percent of the dining room.

  She swiveled her head to see several undead stumbling through a doorway on the far side of the room, and she tossed a blue fireball in their direction. The ball reduced everything it touched to ashes, even destroying the wall behind the undead. The building began to let out an ominous creaking noise as the fireball tore through another two walls before finally dissipating.

  “We need to get out of here.” Ayla said quietly.

  “What about our bags?”

  “Forget them. If you don’t have it with you, you’re not going back to get it.”

  Hali grumbled about having to leave her bags behind but didn’t protest. She saw the necessity behind Ayla’s words, just as Findral did.

  As soon as the three girls left the ruined inn, they were swarmed by a mob of undead. An explosion of stone spikes tearing free from the ground slashed an undead to shreds, while a sword of blue fire bisected one at the waist, and a hail of stone daggers ripped through th
e head of another.

  “Remember, don’t let them touch you,” Ayla told the two of them.

  “Yeah? Let them try,” Findral replied. She threw off her robe, exposing her voluptuous body to the world. Then she began to laugh as her skin turned to ash when a veil of blue flames engulfed her from head to toe.

  “I think you’ve been hanging around the old man for too long, Fin. You’re enjoying this way too much.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Findral replied in a shaky voice.

  A plume of blue fire flew from Findral’s open mouth, disintegrating the legs of an approaching undead and alighting the ground in front of her. She whipped her head to the side, dragging the plume along with it, and vaporized another group charging them from the shadows of a nearby building.

  She turned back to find Ayla and Hali staring at her. “What is it?”

  ‘Since when could you do that?” Hali asked incredulously.

  “Dunno.” Findral shrugged. “It just came to me.”

  “Less talking, more killing!” Ayla yelled. She pointed her granny’s staff at an approaching undead and forced a mass of vines to erupt from the ground around it. The undead was hoisted into the air as the vine pierced its body until it resembled a pincushion.

  Findral and Hali burst into motion without another word and began slaughtering the undead without mercy.

  A while later, as Hali and Ayla were resting atop the blacksmith’s shop, Findral landed in front of them with an odd expression on her face. "You want the good news or the bad news first?" She asked.

  "Bad news first, Ayla replied with a sigh.

  "The bad news is the town appears to be completely wiped out."

  Hali sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Shit..."

  "What's the good news?"

  "Well, it appears someone may have gotten out and alerted the capital, somehow. A group of long ships is headed straight for us."

  "What?"

  “You’re joking.”

  Findral shook her head. "Nope, you should be able to see them in a few minutes."

  Sure enough, approximately ten minutes later a group of ten ships appeared on the horizon. They were made of a dark wood that blended in well with the night sky, though the white sails they used to catch wind and move through the air allowed them to be seen. However, above all else, one thing stood out above all others: The flag the lead ship was flying was that of a horned helmet on a dark green background.

  "Well, look who it is. Ayla, it's your lover-boy," Hali smirked.

  Ayla stared blankly at the approaching ships and sighed. She hung her head and shook it back and forth.

  THEY MET THE SHIPS outside of town and Ayla stepped forward to greet the sailors as they disembarked. The first man to greet her was a tall man with shaggy red hair and emerald eyes. "Ayla? What’re you doing here?" he asked while moving towards them.

  “We were heading towards Asgard City and had to stop off for supplies when this crap went down. What about you, Thor?”

  “We received reports of Jötnar in the area two months ago. My men and I have been patrolling our eastern borders ever since. Though, I wish we’d returned to resupply sooner; we may have been able to save these people,” the man said somberly. “Have you left any for my men?”

  “We killed what we could, but you know how undead are.”

  “Right.” He chuckled darkly. “Alright, you heard the lady. Spread out and kill anything that moves. And stab anything that looks like it should be moving.”

  “Aye!” his men cheered as they flowed around him and entered the village. Ayla watched them go until most of them were out of earshot, then she sighed. "We need to talk," she said.

  "Uh oh. Am I in trouble?" he joked.

  Ayla allowed a smirk to show on her face. “I think so.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Why am I in trouble?”

  "Because my father wants to meet you."

  "Oh..." He gulped. "He doesn't know about the—"

  "Marriage? Yes, yes he does."

  "How about the—"

  "No, he doesn’t know about that yet."

  "And the uh... other thing?"

  Ayla looked at him in confusion.

  "What other thing—" The moment she began talking, Thor seized the opportunity to quickly advance on her and pull her into a kiss. Though she tried to push him away at first, she eventually relaxed and kissed him back. That is, until a loud growl caused the two to quickly separate. Ayla looked over her shoulder at the source of the sound and saw a thirty-foot-tall wolf stalking out of the forest towards them. Fenris was panting heavily and a sickly-looking Solon was riding atop his back. "If you'd like to keep that tongue, I'd suggest you keep it to yourself for the foreseeable future," Fenris growled.

  Thor slowly nodded and raised his hands into the air. "Sheesh, calm down big guy—" He was interrupted when Ayla threw a hard right hook into his jaw. The impact knocked him to the ground and caused him to roll around in pain. “Okay," he groaned and rubbed his aching jaw. "I deserved that." He climbed to his feet, then turned back to Ayla and opened his mouth to speak but had to stop to dodge another punch headed for his jaw. "Whoa!" he yelled as he leaned away from the second punch. "Okay, stop!" He raised his arms up to block the punches she was raining down on his arms. Eventually, she tired herself out and he was able to speak. "You done?" he asked from inside his guard.

  Ayla slowly nodded her head as she tried to catch her breath.

  "Whew," he sighed. "You've got a lot of anger in you for a little wom-UGN!" As he was talking, Ayla swung her right foot and caught him between the legs with all the force she could muster at the moment. The prince dropped to his knees and hung his head as his eyes went cross-eyed. "That..." he wheezed out, "was totally uncalled for."

  Ayla bent down to look at his face. "Did you enjoy that kiss?" she asked.

  The prince nodded his head, as he was currently in too much pain to speak. "Good, so did I. But I told you before that I hated it when you spring kisses on me like that."

  "All done?" Findral asked in an amused tone.

  "For the moment."

  "Well then we should be getting back to master soon."

  "’Tis a bit late for that, don't ya think?" Fenris said as he sat down next to them.

  “Hi, Solon. Hi, Dad..." Hali waved nervously.

  "Hello, Hali," Solon replied as he slowly climbed off of his father’s back.

  “Don’t ’Hi’ me, Hali. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? And that goes for you two, as well. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “What was I thinking? I was thinking, since Dad didn’t want me around, I wouldn’t be,” she said defiantly.

  “Wait, you ran away?” Thor asked from behind her.

  “Uh... Kinda? We were coming to see you anyway, so, with Findral’s help, I got a head start on them.”

  “Without telling anyone.”

  “That’s not true. I told Lena.”

  Fenris frowned at her, then sighed. “For the love of the gods, don’t tell the old grumpy ass that.”

  "Grumpy?” Ayla asked.

  "Oh yeah. He was furious when he found out you left."

  "I didn't get either of you in trouble, did I? Cause if I did, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him when we get back. I’m sure he’ll forgive you."

  Fenris just shrugged her off. "Don't worry about it. This isn't the first time Torga and I have gotten into an argument over the years and it most certainly won't be the last. It’s basically a game between me and the Fatass, at this point." Fenris looked over their shoulder at the village. “I vote we get this taken care of quickly so I can get you girls back. It’s not a good idea to keep him waiting any longer than absolutely necessary right now.”

  Ayla looked over her shoulder at Thor and half-smiled. “Ready to meet your father-in-law?”

  Thor looked between Ayla and the village several times before finally letting out a sigh. “From what I’ve heard about him, I think
I’d rather face down an army of ghouls.”

  “Good instincts,” Findral laughed.

  After spending the rest of the day clearing out the remaining undead, Ayla and the others decided to make camp for the night inside the village and begin making their way to Torga at sunrise.

  Ayla was standing on the roof of the inn, overlooking the town, when suddenly a hand was placed on her shoulder. She whipped her head around and found Hali standing behind her with a grin plastered on her face. "Trouble in paradise?" Hali asked.

  Ayla snorted and motioned for Hali to join her, "If this is paradise, I'd hate to see what hell is like."

  "That bad, huh?"

  Ayla thought it over for a moment, then shrugged.

  "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. But it's still pretty bad."

  Hali’s response was to smirk at her, which prompted Ayla to smirk back.

  The two sat in silence for several minutes while they stared out at the empty village.

  "I envy you, you know?" Hali suddenly said.

  "What?" Ayla laughed, as she believed Hali was poking fun at her again. But when Hali turned to her, the expression on her face told Ayla that this was no joke.

  "I'm serious. I honestly do envy you, Ayla."

  The smile on Ayla's face fell and was replaced with confusion and concern. "Why envy me? I'm nothing special."

  Hali rolled her eyes. "Believe me when I say that I'm very aware of just how 'normal' you are."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Hali shrugged. "You're not beautiful, not smart, definitely not a powerful druid—"

  "Okay, you've made your point," Ayla interrupted.

  "You sure?" Hali asked. "I mean, I have a list and everything."

  "I'm sure."