STAVE TWENTY-SIX
"Where is the horse and the rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain,
like wind in the meadow.
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills, into shadow.
How did it come to this?"
-Theoden King
The Two Towers
"There," Loki said through his teeth, then sitting back with a gasp of exertion, resting his bloody, shaking hands in his lap. Thor could finally focus his left eye, and look at his brother. Loki had a deep gash in his forehead, and blood marred the bridge of his nose and right cheek.
Thor got his arms under him and managed to sit up, leaning back against a large, fallen stone.
"My head isn't buzzing anymore," he noted.
"That's because I stopped the hemorrhaging," Loki muttered, wiping sweat from his face with his wrist. "Another few minutes and your brain would have been full of blood."
The walls quavered. Loki looked around. Thor did the same, fighting to adjust his depth perception.
"Well…We're trapped," Loki sighed. "The pillars and walls have fallen in around us."
"Can't you do anything with magic?" Thor asked him. Loki shook his head.
"These stones repel it," he said, gesturing tiredly. "That's their purpose—to protect the king from invaders."
Thor frowned. A dull thought crossed his mind…
"Protect the king…" he murmured.
"What?" Loki asked.
"…from invaders…" Thor frowned at Loki. "Remind me. Is there not a legend that a stairway was built beneath the throne, so the king might escape if the hall was breached?"
Loki stared at him.
More dust and rubble sputtered to the ground.
"I don't know, I never heard that one," Loki admitted.
"I think…I seem to remember Father telling me…" Thor grunted, turning over and pushing himself up onto his knees. "Where is the throne?"
Immediately, the little light darted off to Thor's left, and sped up a series of steps…
And stopped at the new ceiling, which was made of collapsed rubble.
But…
At the height of these stairs, Thor glimpsed the feet of the great throne.
And in the stairs right in front of it…
"Look!" Thor cried, scrambling to his feet. "Loki, look!"
"What is it?" Loki demanded.
Thor stumbled over the fallen rocks toward the stairs. Loki stood and followed him. The floor shook again, but Thor ignored it, falling onto his knees on the steps…
"Haha!" he crowed. "Look!" And he grasped a fractured piece of stair, tore it loose…
To reveal a chamber beneath the steps.
A secret stairwell.
Loki flung himself down beside Thor, and together they wrenched the broken stones away, just enough to create a hole large enough for them to fit through.
"Go, you and your light go first," Thor ordered, waving to him. Loki glanced at him, but sent the light straight through, and hopped in after it. Grinding his teeth against the pain in his bones, Thor clambered in behind him, and landed heavily on a set of spiral stairs.
"They lead down," Loki noted. "And if this collapses…"
"We had better hurry," Thor advised.
"Mm," Loki agreed, and together they made their way down the stone, spiral staircase.
It wound around and around, growing darker and mustier all the time. Thor could hear the palace above them moaning in deep, wrenching throes. The little light dipped and swooped ahead of them, illuminating the grey bricks and patterned ceiling.
Finally, they reached the bottom, and entered a narrow corridor that led straight off into the darkness.
"I think…I think this is the escape path for the king," Thor panted. "It leads to the Asbru."
"But is there no other way to join it?" Loki asked, glancing furtively around even as they hurried on. "I swear we are right beside the vaults."
"We may be," Thor grunted, limping to keep up with him. "In fact, I think we…"
"Here," Loki called, skidding to a stop and facing the left. "Here, this door."
Thor stopped beside him, frowning at the thickly-barred door before them. He grabbed the handle and shook it.
It was locked.
"I don't suppose magic would work?" Thor winced.
"What do you think?" Loki asked flatly.
"Nothing for it but brute force, then," Thor muttered.
"For once, I agree with you," Loki said, setting his stance. "Shall we kick it or hit it?"
"Kick it," Thor said, setting his stance. "My shoulder may not survive if we try that."
"Whatever you say," Loki said, mirroring his stance. "On three. One, two—three."
Together, they kicked the door with all their might.
BOOM.
It shivered. The hinges rattled.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The force of their blows bashed up and down the corridor. Thor felt painful sweat break out on his face. Loki counted again.
Thor bared his teeth, and threw his entire weight at it.
The hinges snapped.
The door sprang open.
Thor and Loki staggered forward—and the little light zipped in past them.
"Come on," Loki urged, out of breath. They trotted forward, following the light down another narrow corridor that soon swerved to the right…
The two men stopped.
Not twenty paces ahead of them, the corridor ended in a wall. And there, upon a white marble platform that stood against that wall, lay a box.
A box of ebony wood, bound with iron, and adorned with uncut jewels. Dust cloaked it. An iron lock shut its mouth.
Slowly, Loki stepped past Thor, and approached the box. Cautiously, he stretched out his left hand as if toward a savage beast.
"Is that it?" Thor whispered.
"Yes," Loki breathed back. "It is."
The floor shook.
Thor's head came up. Loki's gaze flashed to the ceiling.
"We must go," Thor said. "Take the box—we'll use the escape tunnel."
Loki didn't argue. He dived for the box, snatched it up, turned around—
A large stone fell from the ceiling and shattered on the floor right in front of him.
He jerked back—
"Come on!" Thor cried, waving to him—
And as one, they raced out of the vault, turned left, and sprinted down the tunnel. Thor gritted his teeth, praying there had been no more cave-ins to block their way…
The tunnel wound back and forth, up and down sets of stairs, on and on through the darkness.
Then, a glimmer of light ahead.
"There!" Thor called, pointing. "What is that?"
"A gate!" Loki realized. And in a matter of moments, they skidded to a stop in front of a tall iron gate—through which Thor could smell the outside air, lit by low green torches.
"Does it—" he started—
Loki waved a hand—
The gate blasted open. It crashed to the ground with a deafening rattle.
"Good," Thor nodded. With that, they leaped over the fallen iron, the sword box tucked under Loki's arm, racing the only direction they could: toward the gate of the Asbru bridge.
Their footsteps rang against the faded light of the bridge as the deep shadows of the guardian statues fell across them. Soon, they would be able to look to their right and find the battlefield where their father, the Valkyrie, the dwarves, giants—and Sif—were fighting.
BOOM.
Thor fell to his knees. Loki did the same. The box went skittering out in front of them.
Thor threw himself onto his back, swarmed with confusion—
To see the heaven-reaching, flute-like towers of the palace of Asgard begin to crumble.
Slowly, the massive structure began to disintegrate, collapsing in on itself from top to bottom, wrenching one way, then another, giving way and splitting apart.
Thor stared, his mouth open, unable to make a sound, even as the thunder of its decimation shook the air and rolled through the earth.
"Get up," Loki tugged on him. "Get up, we must get clear!"
"Loki…" Thor choked, unable to tear his attention away from the horrifying sight.
"Get up I said!" Loki bellowed. "Get up and run!"
Thor dragged himself to his feet, even as the outer towers tilted and toppled. Loki tugged on him again, and finally, Thor managed to start to run next to him down the bridge—which also began to quake.
They hurried past the giant golden guardians, Loki packing the box along with him, Thor grinding his teeth against the pain in his leg, head and arms. They flashed past the last statue—
Slowed to a halt, gasping raggedly.
A tall shadow stood before them, in the center of the bridge.
Tall, winsome and clad in the shade of night. A long cloak draping behind her. A helmet of razor-sharp horns upon her head. Her silvery eyes blazing through the darkness, her delicate mouth forming a low, satisfied smile.
"The resilient and noble sons of Odin," she said, over the rush of the black ocean surf below. "Behold."
Thor frowned…
Hela stepped back, and flung aside her cloak.
There, lying on their backs, their throats drenched in blood, their armor torn, their eyes open and lifeless…
Were his friends. Hogun, Volstaag, and Fandral.
Thor stared.
All the heat drained out of his body.
His mind screamed—howled like an insane man locked in a tiny cell.
But he could make no noise.
"You filthy, gutless coward," Loki spat through his teeth, his voice shaking violently. "You witless, maggot-infested cur. I will kill you with my bare hands, do you hear me?"
"Insults. The last useless stones thrown by a doomed man," Hela smiled, stepping directly on Volstaag's sprawled red hair. "For you are doomed, Laufeyson—just as all of Asgard is. For there lies your last great hope," she pointed out to her left, following with her gaze the direction she indicated. "Your father has been mortally stricken. Your grand Valkyrie army, their wings set aflame, their bodies fallen from the cliffs and into the water. Your dwarves mown down like hay at harvest. The skulls of your giants broken."
Thor could do nothing but look where she pointed. And all he saw, upon that distant battlefield…
All he saw…
Was fire.
Fire, and rolling clouds of smoke.
And behind him…
The broken palace of Asgard, fallen utterly to ruin and dust.
To be continued…