Chapter Eight
"What do you think of this one?" Amora asked, stepping out of the dressing room to show Helblindi her new outfit. Skin-tight green leggings paired with a sleeveless green tunic that fell mid-calf. Her golden hair was held back by a stiff green band. She twirled for him, and he grinned.
"That's an awful lot of green, don't you think?" he asked. "But I like it!"
She shrugged, grinning. "Well, green is the traditional colour of magic."
"Are you finding everything to your satisfaction?" The tailor came scurrying over, looking anxious to please.
"Yes, thank you." Amora smiled. "Although my husband Skurge requires new garments. Fetch him some."
"Er... yes... I'll see if I can find anything of the right size..."
The tailor scurried away, looking flustered. Helblindi shook his head at Amora, grinning.
"Was that necessary? She has no idea what to make of me!"
"That's what makes it so funny," Amora grinned back at him. "I think she's trying to figure out how we work."
Helblindi grinned. "We work good."
"We certainly do..." She leaned in to kiss him.
A small cough interrupted them as the tailor came back with a heap of fabric in her arms.
"These are the largest men's garments we have in stock, I hope they will suffice." She left quickly, perhaps seeing that she was interrupting the lovers.
Amora and Helblindi glanced at each other and burst into laughter. Helblindi gently shifted Amora from his lap and collected the clothes. He bent into the dressing room, although it was hardly big enough for him.
Amora settled back, liking how her body looked in her new outfit. If people on Asgard could see me they'd all die of heart attacks! The thought made her laugh. I don't know if even Mor would wear this in public! She stopped herself. Amora has no family.
Helblindi came back out shortly, clad in a tunic, trousers and boots, all solid black. "What do you think?"
"You look intimidating. I like it!"
He grinned. "The axe my Tha used to use will go perfectly with this, too! Now let's pay for these clothes and-"
"I have a better idea." Amora hopped into his arms and kissed him. "Take me out of here, Skurge!"
Skurge raised one brow and headed for the door.
"Excuse me-" the tailor started.
Skurge went conveniently deaf until they left. Amora pressed a hand to her mouth to smother her laughter. After a while, he set Amora her on her feet and they strolled through the market, giving each other overly sappy smiles, giggling at the expressions that followed them everywhere. They'd stopped on this world, waiting for Atum's first 'test' to commence, and were just passing time until it began. Amora pulled Skurge over to a display of jewelry and began to gush over the emeralds. Skurge put on his most stern expression.
"Amora, darling, anything you desire is yours," he intoned, snatching up a thick necklace and clasping it around her neck.
Her cheeks coloured, but she beamed. "Why, thank you, my Skurge," She made her voice sound sultry.
"Hey!" the vendor shouted as they turned away. "You can't just take things without paying for them!"
"Pay?" Skurge repeated, blinking stupidly. He looked at Amora with such a confused expression that she had to struggle not to laugh.
"My dear man, don't you know who I am?" she purred.
The vendor blinked. "No..."
"I am Amora the enchantress, and I take what I please."
"You don't here, woman, unless you want to land yourself behind bars!"
Amora raised an eyebrow, looking at 'Skurge', who helpfully hefted his axe and moved between her and the vendor, who backed up quickly.
"You were saying?"
"I was saying, you've got to pay for that necklace!" the vendor squeaked, looking afraid but still standing his ground.
Amora put her hands on her hips. "Well, if you're going to keep whining about it." She waved her hand, making a few gold coins spring from the pouch at 'Skurge's' waist and fly onto the vendor's table. He snatched them up quickly, pale-faced.
"Will that amount suffice?"
"Yes," he stammered. "More than enough."
"More?" Amora cooed. "Well, then, how about some earrings to go with the necklace?"
"I..."
Skurge picked up a pair of dangling earrings made of jade. "These?"
"Yes, those are perfect!" Amora gushed, holding them up to her ears. "I'll have to tell all my friends about this place."
The vendor whimpered piteously.
Amora gleefully put the earrings on, and took Skurge's hand as they walked away. "What shall we do now, love?"
"I'm feeling a mite peckish," Skurge replied, putting an arm around his much-smaller lover. "Are there any good restaurants nearby?"
The vendor pointed. "Clois Cafe serves a superb steak."
"Let's be off, then!" Skurge said, and he and Amora started walking away.
"How long do you suppose we have before the authorities are informed of our behaviour?" Amora giggled.
"Don't know. Do we want to get arrested again?"
"Why not? It was fun breaking away from the Kree!"
Skurge laughed, and grabbed a rug from a nearby stall. "Thank you, my good man, for this lovely piece of furniture."
"Skurge, that's the ugliest thing I've seen!" Amora protested.
"Yes, ugly!" the ruggier agreed. "Why don't you take one of these ones? They're much prettier. A pretty rug for a pretty lady!"
"No, I want this one," Skurge decided. "It looks like the skins my Tha would hang on our walls at home."
"No! You can't have that one!"
Skurge moved to loom menacingly over the ruggier. "Can't I?"
Amora giggled.
"N-no! Here, have this one! Have both of these!"
Amora flitted around Skurge and lifted herself up onto the counter. "What's so important about that rug?"
The ruggier paled. "Nothing! It's just... reserved for an important buyer!"
Amora and Skurge glanced at each other. Without another word, Skurge flung open the rug to its full length.
"It's thicker than I would have thought..." Amora reached out to touch it.
"Give it back! Please!" The ruggier sounded absolutely desperate.
Skurge frowned, shaking the rug. It made an inexplicable jingling noise.
"What's in here?"
"Nothing!"
Amora started to feel the rug. It was hard! "There is definitely something in here."
"No, there isn't!" The ruggier's face gleamed with perspiration now. Clearly, something was bothering him. Amora concentrated, conjuring a small blade, and sliced the front of the rug open.
"No!" The ruggier lunged, trying to snatch the rug back. Skurge merely stepped to one side and the man lost his balance.
A single large diamond fell from the rug. Amora's jaw dropped as she stooped to pick it up. Holding it almost reverently, she gaped. It was as beautiful as the jewels in Brisingamen! Her glance went to Skurge and then the ruggier.
"There they are!" The lovers turned to see the tailor marching down the street, accompanied by two armed guards. "Those are the two that robbed me!"
The ruggier took his chance, lashing out at Amora, snatching back the diamond and running as though his life depended on it.
Amora stared after him in shock before realising she and Skurge had more immediate problems. The guards were drawing closer. Skurge drew his axe.
"Let's see if we can talk our way out of this first," Amora said, quickly putting her hand on Skurge's arm. "Friends! So good to see you again."
The guards blinked in confusion but kept their stern expressions. "This tailor says that you took clothes from her store without paying for them."
Amora looked shocked. "We left our old clothes behind!"
The tailor glared. "That is no payment."
"It's not?" Skurge blinked. "Why not?"
"Don't play the fool," a guard warned.
"What a way to speak to your friends!" Amora put her hands on her hips.
"We're not your friends, woman, we're here to make sure you either pay for the goods or return them."
Amora blinked. "But didn't we meet at Chancellor Sheridan's fundraiser? I could have sworn that we brought home two men that looked just like you..."
Skurge had to fight to keep his face stoic as the guards stared incredulously.
The tailor glanced between them, plainly confused.
"Ah, well. I suppose I may have had a little too much to drink that night, anyway. By the way, our ruggier friend that just dashed away seems to be in the habit of smuggling diamonds in his rugs."
The guards' eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"
Amora shrugged. "I cut open a suspiciously heavy rug. There was an enormous diamond in it. He ran off with it when you arrived."
She gestured to the rug still in Skurge's hands.
"I think there might be some left in it, too," he added.
The guards exchanged looks. "Hand it over."
Skurge looked at Amora. She tilted her head to one side.
"If we co-operate, can we overlook the misunderstanding about the tailor?"
The tailor looked outraged.
"Cooperate and we might not assume that you're part of his operation!" the guard retorted.
Amora wasn't entirely feigning her shock. "If we were working with him, why would we have told you his secret?!"
"There is no honour among thieves," the guard replied. "Now hand over the rug."
"You know what?" Skurge said, hefting his axe. "I think it's time that we leave, wouldn't you agree darling? I expected this place to be much more hospitable."
Amora nodded. "I quite agree, beloved."
Without further ado, Skurge threw the rug at the guards, blinding and tripping them, lifted Amora to his shoulder, and ran. Even if the guards freed themselves quickly, his strides would have them back to their ship and gone before they were caught!
Amora was laughing the entire journey back. He set her down in the ship, smirking.
"That was fun... where to now?"
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Nanna lay on her bed, trying to ignore Set. It was bright outside with sunshine, and she could hear children laughing. It seemed like a nightmare. But better that they could be happy now, while they had a chance. Her child would never have the opportunity.
Don't get depresssssed now, Nanna. Why don't you go assssk your mother about your father?
Because you want me to. I'm not going to!
Set sighed. Musssst I order and threaten you?
If you want me to play your sick game, then you do!
Even after you've condemned Eitri and Bragi? Hmm. Very well. Who should be next? Oh, perhaps little Skaldi can meet with an unfortunate accident. A knife in your hands-
Alright, I'm going! Nanna swung out of her bed, kicking at the post as she made sure that she was presentable. She tried to breathe evenly. What Set was saying couldn't be true. But if it wasn't, why was he making her do this...?
She quickly made it to Freyja's home. Wandering up the familiar stairs, Nanna was stabbed with hopeless despair. This is all going to be destroyed.
"Mor?
"Nanna? In my room, I'm just packing for a trip to Vanaheim. I meant to ask you if you wanted to come," Freyja continued as Nanna walked into her room. "But we couldn't find you. Everybody else is going. Gully wants to see us."
Tell her no.
"I... don't think so, Mor. I don't want to leave Balder so soon after we married."
"Are you sure?" Freyja's brow creased with concern.
"Yes, I'll stay here. Mor... can I ask you something?" Nanna gulped nervously.
"Of course. Anything."
"I heard... a rumour that neither of your dwarves was my father. Is it true?"
Freyja stiffened. "Who told you that?"
Nanna knew by her reaction it was true. She sank down on the bed, staring at her mother. "Who is?"
For a long moment, Freyja did nothing. Then she slowly sat beside her. "Nanna, I'm sorry."
"It's Tyr, isn't it?"
Freyja's eyes widened. "How did you-" she gasped. "Nobody knows that except me and Eitri! How did you find out?"
Sssay nothing to her.
"I wish I could tell you, Mor... but why did you never tell me? Or Sif, for that matter?!"
"Nanna, I was selfish. I thought that Tyr would demand to take you away from me... at least, that's what I told myself. The truth is... The truth is I loved him more than I wanted to and wanted to keep him as far away as possible. And after his death... It didn't seem to make much difference. Nobody would have believed me."
"Sif would have." Nanna's face was stubborn. "And you never told her about me."
"You had eight other sisters, why would you want or need another?"
"I can't believe you just said that!" Nanna sprang to her feet. "Of all the- She's my sister! Didn't you think of what she needed?"
"Binding her to the Whore of Vanaheim, no matter how distantly, didn't seem like a thing she needed."
Nanna sputtered, opening and closing her mouth a few times before turning and walking away. "She won't be tied to you, she'll be tied to me. And I'm going to tell her as soon as I can!" She stalked out, ignoring Freyja's calling after her.
Set hummed a bar of music in her mind. That went well, Nanna. Thank you for reacting ssso beautifully.
Nanna instantly wanted to turn around and give Freyja more time to explain.
Keep walking, the serpent ordered.
Feeling sick, she obeyed. How does this serve your purpose, exactly?
I have had a ssslight change of mind. Bragi livesss ssso long asss you keep your mother at arm'sss length, keep her thinking that you will never forgive her. I am mossst benevolent to give you that opportunity, am I not?
Bragi lives if I never talk to Mother again? Tears filled Nanna's eyes.
No, you're allowed to be cold and unfriendly. Ssshout a little.
She shivered at the thought, but if it saved Bragi... Alright.
Set's laughter echoed for at least five minutes.
Nanna practically fled back to her quarters, not wanting to see Sif at the moment. She wasn't certain that she even wanted to tell the older woman everything anymore after all! Why is this so amusing to you? I want to know truthfully. Is the reason you're tormenting me just because of my grandmother, or was there anything I could have done to stop you from hating me so much?
You could be lessss happy. Lessss in love with your Balder.
Misery makes you happy?!
Yesss.
Nanna wondered if the truth was he was lonely - she tried to stop the thought. I read too many stories. I don't believe that you are weak enough to crave companionship.
Set was silent.
Shock came over her. Could that be true? She didn't dare ask... A spark of pain that shot through her only confirmed it more, though she tried to stop herself from thinking that way. Stop. Please.
Why?
Nanna could think of no answer as she curled in on herself, fighting her pain. A hand on her shoulder made her jump; she suddenly realised she was crouched near to the ground. Alti was standing over her, looking concerned.
"Are you alright, child?"
She blinked, looking around in confusion. I thought I was in my room!
I moved you.
Why?
"Nanna? Are you alright?"
"I... I'm fine." Nanna stood, brushing off her clothing with trembling hands.
Alti was still eying her. "You don't look fine... should I send for your mother? Or Balder?"
"Not my mother!" Nanna wanted nothing more than to go and wrap her arms around Freyja and tell her everything. But she couldn't, not if Bragi was to live. She started to silently cry again. Alti put an arm around her.
"Let's get you indoors at least."
Nanna let Alti lead her inside her house, eyes on her feet, shoulders hunched. She toyed with the idea of ending this by ending herself- then immediately wondered why such a pessimistic thought suddenly seemed appealing. She shuddered, horrified.
He wouldn't let me, anyway, she thought, knowing that he knew what he was thinking but feeling so hurt and helpless she almost didn't care.
"...some tea? Nanna!" Alti's voice startled her. She realised the woman had been asking her a question.
"Oh, no, thank you. And I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought..."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Nanna shook her head.
Yessss, Set commanded.
"Actually... yes, I would." Nanna's voice was glum.
Alti sat down opposite Nanna. "What is it, then?" Her expression was kind, but worried.
"I learned recently that Mother lied to me about who my father was."
Alti's brow furrowed. "Anything is better than those dwarves, isn't it?"
Nanna felt her anger rise in her. "Those dwarves have treated Mor with more respect than most of the so-called lords in Asgard!"
Alti looked taken aback. "You think very highly of the Stunted Ones..."
"And you're a prejudiced old -" Nanna bit her tongue. "I'm sorry. It's just been a bad day."
Alti nodded. "Do you know who your father is? Does he know?"
Nanna hesitated. I don't want to say.
Sssay it anyway.
Why?
Are you disssobeying me?
"Tyr," Nanna blurted. "Tyr was my father. Sif's my sister."
Alti's jaw dropped, mouth moving soundlessly for several minutes.
"I don't know if he knew..."
Alti shook her head. "He can't have. As soon as he learned about Sif, he became attentive to her. If he'd known of you, he would have let someone know, so even if he had still... been lost, you would have been acknowledged as his."
Nanna wrapped her arms around herself. "Why wouldn't she tell him?"
Alti sighed. "I don't know, Nanna. You'll have to ask her that yourself." It makes no sense! Why let her youngest shoulder the burden of being half-dwarf if it wasn't necessary? She really didn't understand Freyja sometimes, despite their friendship... and how would she tell Sif this? Assuming Nanna didn't want to do it herself...
"I'm not going to ask her. I'm never going to talk to her again."
Alti shook her head. "You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do."
Alti looked troubled. "I understand you're angry... perhaps if I talked to her first, asked her to give you time to calm down..."
"No! I do not want to speak to her!" Nanna had to fight to hold in her sobs. "Should I tell Sif?"
Alti spread her hands helplessly. "If you want. It's your's and her right to know. But she's on Alfheim right now, trying to stop another rebellion. I've asked to be informed when she returns, so..."
"May I wait here until then? Balder's busy in council, and I don't want to be alone..."
"Of course you can."
Nanna nodded miserably, as Alti lead her to an upper bedroom so she could rest. Are you happy now?
Ssssomewhat. Sssif'ss reaction to your newsss should be amusssing...
Nanna curled on the bed, hands pressing to her stomach. How long ago had it been since she had been estatic about her pregnancy, this life that she and Balder had created? She just wanted to sleep...
Sssleep then.
Nanna's eyes drifted shut in seconds. She wished they hadn't though, when she started dreaming...
She was in Set's realm, alone, chained to the ground. Her stomach was huge, as if she was full-term into her pregnancy. Around her, bodies of her friends and family were littered, their blood draining to the sea of tears. Her stomach writhed and contorted as though a snake slithered under her skin. She screamed.
And then Balder was kneeling in front of her; his eyes were putrid green. She tried to shrink back from him, but the chains prevented it. She cringed when he caressed her hair.
"You're jussst about ready to pop there, aren't you?" he chuckled in Set's voice.
"Get away from me!"
"Why, beloved, what are you doing?" He leaned in close over her. "Am I not your husssband?"
Her eyes widened. "Set, stop it!"
"Sssset? Who is Ssset, dear Nanna?" He was leaning over her, forcing her backwards.
She screamed at the top of her lungs. "Get off me!"
He grabbed her wrists and pinned her down - and a snake's tail wrapped around his neck and pulled him back. Nanna gasped, shying away. Tears were streaming down her face.
"If you want to sssleep why do you dream sssuch thingsss?"
Nanna shook her head. "I'm not, you're doing this to me!" Sobs wracked her body.
The Set-Balder disappeared, leaving the seven-headed snake glaring down at her. "Asss I sssaid before, I do not rape!"
"You've commited every other sin, why should I believe you'd stop there?"
"I do what I need for sssurvival, you would do the sssame!"
Nanna opened her mouth to ask how destroying Asgard was neccesary for survival but bit her tongue. She had already caused enough damage. Her engorged belly still wriggled as if she was carrying a snake. It hurt! She couldn't supress a cry of pain. Set looked at her exasperatedly.
"Your own mind isss doing thiss. It will ssstop asss sssoon asss you acknowledge that."
It won't stop. It will never ssstop!
Set looked impatient. "Fine. WAKE UP!"
Nanna's eyes shot open and she lay there gasping for several minutes. She was still in Alti's spare room. She glanced down at herself. Her stomach was still mostly flat, with only a slight curve betraying her pregnancy. Slowly, she calmed.
Her relief at leaving that nightmare didn't last long. My life is a nightmare now. I ssshould jussst ssstop living... She blinked suddenly. Ssstop. Ssstop.
Are you mocking me, little one?
No. She shivered. I don't know why that happened!
Nanna sensed anger and frustration from Set. She shivered again. I'm sssorry. She pressed her palms to her eyes. Sssorry. Sssorry! What are you doing to me?! Panic threatened to overwhelm her.
I am not doing anything! Ssstop it!
I'm trying!
"Stop," Nanna whispered aloud. Ssstop. She wanted to tear her hair out. What isss wrong with me?!
Thisss isss not part of my plan! Set hissed in agitation. You are weaker than I thought!
"I'm not weak!" Nanna cried out loud. She knew there was a risk of Alti hearing, but didn't want to hear his hiss in her thoughts anymore.
Be sssilent!
"Maybe I'm just overtired. Can't you knock me out or something? Dreamlessly?"
I could... whether or not I will isss a different matter...
"Please."
Set had to work hard to keep his confusion - and a twinge of pity - from seeping into Nanna's consciousness. This wasn't what he had expected. He had captured, tortured, possessed and killed his sister's descendants many times. What was it about this one that made him doubt himself? He had no answers, and that only made him angry. With a sigh, he pushed the girl into a dreamless sleep.
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"I thought you said this would be fun!" Skurge shouted, slinging Amora over his shoulder so that they could go faster. Arrows whizzed by their heads, exploding on impact wherever they landed to release a fine shimmering powder.
"They're not actually going to kill us!" Amora shouted back, desperately trying to conjure a protective barrier of fire around them. "I think!"
"Very comforting, Amora!" Skurge yelled as one of the arrows exploded in his eye. He scrubbed the powder out rapidly. "Any idea where our next clue is?"
"Given what we've come through so far, I'm guessing it's wherever the arrows are coming from."
"Great." Skurge looked around, but it was no good. The shimmering dust obscured everything, and the arrows seemed to be coming from four different directions. "Where are they coming from?"
"I don't know! It's your turn!" Sweat was coating her brow as she tried to intensify her fire.
He glanced around, shrugged and chose a direction at random. Amora coughed and spluttered as she accidentally breathed in some of the dust. Her fires flickered, forcing her to focus harder to maintain them. I hope you're enjoying yourself, Atum! she thought viciously, half hoping he could hear her somehow...
Skurge covered his mouth with a scrap of cloth, but it was beginning to get difficult to breathe. He stumbled slightly, and the cloth slipped. He inhaled a mouthful of the powder - and was unconcious immediately. He fell, snoring. Amora squealed she she rolled over the ground, coughing as she inhaled more of the dust.
She rushed to Skurge's side, checking his pulse. He was only in a deep sleep. She shook him, to no avail. Now what? She stood, wrapping her arms around herself. The arrows were still falling, but not near her or Skurge. If she stayed where she was, she'd be safe. If she went after the treasure, she'd be back in range... A thought occured to her. Why haven't I passed out? Footsteps suddenly became audible, approaching. Amora conjured flame immediately, but it was weak because she was tired.
"Your mother did teach you how to wield the sword, did she not?" Atum asked, coming into view, holding out a sword to her.
"Uncle Frey did most of my training. Mor was too competitive. But I hated it," Amora replied warily, taking the offered weapon. "But it's not like I could beat you anyway!"
Atum raised an eyebrow. "Show me what you can do to defend yourself without your powers."
"Really?" Amora muttered, but the next moment Atum was attacking and it was all she could do to ward off his blows.
"This- is- not- fair," she huffed. "I've- been- walking for- hours- and I'm- tired!"
"You'd be doing better if you weren't wasting energy by speaking."
Amora secretly thought that she'd be doing better if she wasn't already exhausted, but was panting too much to speak. She blocked his blows the best she could, but her sword slipped, and he knocked it clean from her hand. In desperation, she conjured a fireball and threw it at him. As he twisted to avoid the flames she dodged in closer, throwing her weight against him, clamping her teeth down on his arm. He released the sword with a yelp and as she snatched it up, he retrieved the one she had dropped. He chuckled.
"Should have seen that one coming. That was always your mother's favourite tactic!"
She glared at him. "You didn't give me a lot of other options!"
"And you think an enemy would?"
And then he was attacking again.
She gritted her teeth, fighting back as best she could, despite the fact that her aching arms were protesting each time she lifted the sword.
"Straighten your back, Amora. A posture like that will get you killed."
To demonstrate his point, he took a step to the side, swiped down her sword, spun in behind her and put his blade across her neck. Amora gasped instinctively, though she felt the blade was dull. He released her a second later, moving back to stand in front of her. He began issuing instructions.
"Feet wider apart. Stand up straight. Don't clutch the hilt like you're trying to kill it."
"Really? We couldn't have done this half an hour ago?"
"Don't complain, or I'll have you running laps as well. You'll need better skills to finish this 'treasure hunt'."
"I didn't ask for training! I can always go back to dancing!"
"Of course you can. Once you find your ship again. I moved it."
Her jaw dropped. "What?!"
He smirked. "I told you this wouldn't be easy."
Amora sputtered incoherently. Atum disarmed her again. She left the sword on the ground where it was and marched off.
"It's not going to work just to ignore me, Amora. This powder that knocked out your companion? It's lethal to Jotunns."
Amora stopped dead in her tracks.
"He should come round in a few minutes, but unless you find the cure, hidden, by the way, with your treasure and ship, within two weeks, he's dead. No sign of trouble. He'll just topple over and die."
Amora paled. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Atum's face gave nothing away.
"You wouldn't..." Amora stumbled, completely certain that he would.
"I am the godslayer, Amora. What is his life to me?"
Her heart began to beat faster. "At least give me some hint as to where the cure is!"
Atum smiled. "Pick up your sword."
She swallowed heavily, but complied, adrenaline and panic making her forget her exhaustion. Atum attacked. And promptly disarmed her.
"Pick it up."
Amora grabbed her sword again, and this time didn't wait for Atum to attack her. She attacked him, swiping at his midsection. He moved too fast for her to see what he did, but suddenly she was empty-handed again, and sprawled on the ground.
"Is that the best you can do?"
"I told you, I hated training!" Amora complained, getting to her feet again. "But I'll have you know I can recite Homer's Odyssey and Iliad without skipping a single word."
"That's not going to protect you from anything except literary critics."
She scowled.
"Pick up the sword."
"What is the point of this? You're just going to keep beating me!" Amora struggled to contain her anger.
"That's how you improve. Pick up the sword."
"No!"
"Your Jotunn's life hangs in the balance, Amora," he reminded her coldly.
She snatched up the sword, fighting the urge to throw it at him.
"I never knew you could be this cruel."
"That is because your mother always shielded you."
She glowered at him. And he attacked her again. She fought back as hard as she could... and was still disarmed within three minutes. Sweat was rolling down her back this time and she was feeling increasingly angry and desperate. Finally in a fit of rage she conjured a fireball and hurled it at him.
He dodged effortlessly. "I said no magic!"
"I DON'T CARE!" Amora screamed, dropping the sword to cast a paralysing spell at him.
He countered it immediately, grabbing her wrists to stop her trying anything else.
"Let go of me!" she shouted, struggling, flames beginning to leap up from her hands.
"Calm down."
"Let GO!"
A burst of power blasted from her hands, hitting Atum squarely in the chest. He flew back ten feet and landed hard. Amora's breath caught in her throat. She pressed her hands to her mouth; that day centuries ago when she faced Demogorge came back to her mind and she froze in terror, certain that she had unleashed the demon.
Atum straightened up slowly. Amora held her breath, waiting. Should I run?
"Pick up your sword," he said.
"Do I have to?"
"If you want to find the cure, yes."
"But the longer I spend sparring with you, the less time I'll have to look for it!"
"You'll never find it if I don't give you your first clue."
"So just give it to me!"
"I will... when you've earned it."
Amora gritted her teeth in anger. She marched over to her sword, the weight of it making her arms feel like they were going to fall off. She turned, only to find Atum standing before her. He immediately disarmed her. This continued for hours until she was stumbling with every step that she took.
"What do you want?" she screamed at him, sinking to the ground in exhaustion. "What purpose can this possibly serve?" She wanted to burst into tears. She glanced over at Skurge's still-unconscious form. "You said he was going to wake in a few minutes. It's been hours!"
"He will wake soon."
"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"
Atum refused to react to Amora's rising temper. That only made her angrier.
"Get up."
"No."
"Amora-"
"NO! I can't! I can't do this, I'm not strong enough!"
"You are."
Amora collapsed into sobs, the toll too much for her to take. She had never been put through so much! So much for having a fun treasure hunt!
"I know you are," Atum said softly, kneeling beside her. "Because you are your mother's daughter, and Freyja is the strongest person I have ever known."
Amora felt too miserable to look up. "I'm not like her."
"Not exactly like her, no, but you are strong. Think about that."
Amora buried her face in her hands. It wasn't until she heard Skurge groaning that she looked up. And saw that Atum was gone. She glanced around rapidly, blinking. "What the-" Even the swords were gone!
Skurge clambered to his feet. "What happened?"
She scrambled to her feet and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Sobbing, she blurted out the whole story.
"And he didn't give you a clue?"
"No! I failed his test, whatever it was and now you're going to die!"
Skurge shook his head. "I feel fine... and he must have given you some kind of clue, even if you didn't realise."
"All he said was that I'm my mother's daughter and not to use magic!"
Skurge looked thoughtful. "So what other skills do you have?"
"I don't know!"
"Well, there has to be something, Amora."
"There isn't! All I can do is write poetry and recite books!"
A thoughtful frown spread over Skurge's face. "Do any of the books you've read describe this place?"
"No! I don't-" Amora buried her face into his shoulder. "I'm just so tired!"
"Maybe if we rest a while, something will occur to one of us?"
Amora threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine. You're going to die in two weeks but fine! Let's rest and waste time!"
Skurge frowned. "Do you have a better idea?!"
"No."
"Then let's just get some rest. I'll watch for a bit. You sleep."
Amora sighed, all but collapsing to the floor. "Alright..."
Skurge settled down, pulling her into his arms. She was asleep in seconds. He exhaled heavily, fighting the after effects of the dust- he still felt tired, but he knew he mustn't fall asleep again. His eyes were feeling very heavy, but then he saw something glinting on the ground. Laying Amora down, he investigated. It was a sword. He picked it up, stowing it safely to show Amora when she woke. Maybe it could be of some use... Yawning, he returned to where she lay and sat down again.
I have to stay awake... was his last coherent thought before he drifted back to sleep.
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Amora woke a few hours later with her head on Skurge's chest. It took a moment for her to remember why she was so battered and bruised, but when she did despair hit her stomach like a physical blow. Slowly she pushed herself up despite her aching muscles and gazed at Skurge's face. Two weeks. Two weeks! I should never have left home! What is Atum's game here? Does he want me to hate him or is he just cruel, insane...
Skurge was clutching something. Looking closer, Amora saw that it was the sword that Atum had given her. It was sticking out at an odd angle from the rest of his body. In a fit of anger, Amora seized it and threw it away with all of her strength. The movement jolted Skurge awake and he yawned widely.
"'Mora?"
"We both fell asleep."
"Sorry, I guess that dust..."
"It's alright." Amora's gaze was fixed on the ground. She wanted to rage and cry, but what good would it do? "I suppose we've got to find a way out of this arrow storm, but I don't know how..."
Skurge yawned again. "I found a sword yesterday."
"Yes, it's the one Atum gave me."
"I thought it might be useful."
"I threw it away. Over there." As Skurge retrieved the sword, Amora stared after him unhappily. Right then and there, she decided something. "Skurge?"
"Yes?"
"If we can't find the cure I'm going to have your baby."
He turned, eyes widening. "What? I think I misheard you..."
"No, you didn't. I'm not letting..." Amora struggled to control herself. "If this is some sick way of trying to keep us apart, it's not going to work!"
Skurge didn't know what to say. "Amora..."
"We need to find a way to get to the cure, anyway. You're not going to die. I won't accept that." She pushed herself to her feet. "I won't. But maybe I'll have your baby anyway."
"Are you trying to tell me you're pregnant?"
"No. Not that I know of. Come on, let's find a way through these arrows... I guess that stupid sword is going to be necessary or he wouldn't have left it."
They both glanced at the sword. It had twisted again, and was now pointing North.
"What?" Amora muttered, walking over to it. She picked it up, dropping it southward. It turned of its own accord and pointed north again.
Skurge scratched his head. "I guess that means we should go north?"
"I guess, maybe. But how will we get through the arrows?"
"Just keep dodging and hope for the best?"
"That's what we tried before... Hang on. I remember something like this in something I read. No... Something I wrote when I was fourteen."
"What?"
"I was trying to write an epic poem, and at one point the hero is faced with a barrage of arrows coming from every side... How did he get out of it? I can't remember!"
"Try!"
"I am trying!" Amora sat down and breathed deeply. "There was something about a wishing well. No, that was something else..."
Skurge stifled a sigh, trying not to look impatient.
"Why would he take something from an epic poem that I can't hardly remember writing..." Amora pressed her hands to her eyes, thinking hard. "Alright. Barrage of arrows. We have to shield, but- Wait..." She scrambled to her feet. "There was a path through them. It was just wide enough to let the hero pass through. I remember now. Loki told me that it was awfully convenient for a path to be there and for the hero to find the path." She snatched up the sword again and turned to Skurge. "You think?"
He scratched his head. "Yes, but how do we find this path, assuming you're right and there is one?"
"Give me a minute." Amora eyed the scene directly to the north of them, having decided to trust the sword for now. After a few minutes, her eyes widened. "I think I see a way through... stay right behind me, and only step where I step. Move quickly!" She set off without further explanation. Skurge followed, having no other option, really.
"It's working!" Amora exclaimed excitedly, her pace picking up as the arrows exploded around their feet but did not come near them anymore.
"Yes, it's working. Only what's that behind us?"
Amora turned and her eyes widened. "Right. I remember, after Loki told me that the path was too convenient I added in a sand demon that would devour-"
Skurge didn't wait for another word. He lifted Amora from her feet and barrelled down the path, the sandy shadow racing after them, howling.
"Why is this treasure hunt following the story of one of your poems?"
"I have no idea!" Atum shouldn't even know about it, he never saw that poem!
Skurge stumbled, barely dodging an arrow, as Amora tried to simply point in the direction they needed to go, not wanting to keep shouting as there was now sand swirling all around them.
"How did your hero defeat the sand devil?"
"He didn't! He got ripped to shreds because I was sick of that stupid poem and wanted it to end!"
Skurge muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
"But Atum's got to have given us a way out, he doesn't want us to die!" At least, I don't think he does... What else did he say... Strong like Mor? The sand was clawing at her skin and eyes by now, she in a fit of desperation she started to sing as loudly as she could. A lullaby her mother always sang to her when she was a child and had nightmares...
Her eyes widened as the sand demon actually stopped howling, and stilled.
Skurge blinked in astonishment. "Keep singing!"
Amora nodded, rolling her eyes. Obviously! She pointed at the sword, which was now pointing north-west. She caught Skurge's eye, still singing (and feeling somewhat foolish) and nodded. Skurge took the hint and headed in that direction, the sand devil tamely following them.
"When we're out of this, you've got to tell me how you figured that one out," Skurge muttered.
I will! Amora thought, a smile curving her lips as she moved on to another of Freyja's lullabies. The sand devil seemed to be cooing now, and slowly Amora noticed that it was shrinking. Eventually it turned to the size of a puppy and then vanished entirely into the sand. She kept singing, though, just in case. The arrows around them were starting to thin, and with an abrupt start, they were out of the field entirely.
Skurge set her down with a sigh. "It seems we're safe for now."
"Yes..." Amora glanced around, distracted. "There should be a clue of some sort around here somewhere..."
"All I can see is rocks on sand."
"Maybe there's a note under one of them?" She began walking, looking under each one.
"That seems a bit too simple, Amora." Nonetheless, Skurge began checking beneath the larger rocks that Amora couldn't lift. "Wonder what the catch here will be?"
He tried to take another step forward, only to realise he was stuck.
"Amora!" His voice was alarmed. "Quicksand!"
"I didn't write about quicksand!" Amora exclaimed, confused. But then she was getting sucked down as well and didn't care what she wrote about. Calm down, she told herself sharply. What do you know about quicksand? "Don't struggle."
"What?"
"Don't struggle, it stirs up the sand and we'll just sink faster. Spread out as big as you can, it'll slow down." Amora took a deep breath, spreading out her limbs as far as she could. "We're not supposed to sink this quickly but it's alright, it's magical quicksand developed to test us."
"You, you mean," Skurge said nervously. "So far everything we've faced has relied on you for a solution. Not that I'm complaining, but... You know, it would be nice to be something other than dumb muscle and the incentive to hurry up."
It was so unexpected that Amora couldn't stifle a giggle. "Maybe we'll have to tell Atum that if he shows up again."
Skurge chuckled nervously, and then grew somber. "How do we get out of this? I don't know anything about deserts and quicksand."
"Quicksand is basically an underground reservoir of water that's been mixed with the sand-"
"Water?" Skurge interrupted.
"Yes-"
"I got this!"
Amora opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, but soon she felt a definite lowering of the temperature around her. Her brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"
"Freezing the water."
Amora laughed under her breath. "That's brilliant!"
After a few minutes, they had stopped sinking and with some effort were able to yank themselves free. They dusted sand off each other, laughing.
"Well, we've both been put through a test now. Maybe we'll be lucky and that will be it?"
Amora rolled her eyes. "You obviously don't know Atum, Skurge. It can't possibly be that easy."
"You call that easy?"
"No, but I imagine it's going to get worse before it gets better."
He sighed. "I think I hate your uncle."
She shrugged. "He wouldn't be doing this if he weren't trying to teach us something."
"But all this just because he doesn't want you dancing in a bar to entertain men? It seems a little excessive!"
Amora ignored that, looking at the sword again. Now it pointed east. "Come on, we'd better get this over with." She walked off.
Skurge followed her with a long-suffering sigh. "You're lucky I love you."
Amora stopped dead. She turned back slowly, her jaw gaping. "What did you just say?"
"I said that you're lucky I love you."
"Are you serious?"
"Um..." Skurge wasn't entirely certain how he was supposed to react. "Serious about what?"
"You love me?"
"Oh."
They stared at each other in silence for a while.
"Well?" Amora asked, and then flushed red. "You were just joking around, weren't you? Weren't you?" It was almost a plea.
Skurge shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to tell the truth but given Amora's reaction... "Yes. I was just trying to lighten the mood. After all, it's been quite a day... Besides that, you're the one who said that you want to have my baby!" he continued. "I don't know what's more shocking, 'I love you' or 'I'm going to have your baby'. You didn't see me getting all panicky out over what you said, did you?"
"No. No, sorry, I guess it's just the emotional strain." Amora let out a shaky breath. "It's only, well... the only men I know who have told me that they loved me were Loki and Theoric. I guess I just don't know how to handle declarations of love."
"Maybe I should just randomly declare my love for you, so that you learn how to respond to it, then," Skurge offered teasingly.
She laughed. "Maybe... though I hope you mean it, someday. Just not yet, it's too soon to know that."
Skurge nodded to put her at ease. Too soon for your people, maybe...
Amora cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I suppose we'd better keep moving..."
Skurge nodded silently. I wonder what our next 'test' will entail...