Chapter III

The S&R mission turned out to be… problematic. There was no other route into the castle except for the front entrance – the same entrance that the trolls transporting the prisoners had entered. We decided that we'd enter the same entrance, and if we got caught (very likely), we'd think of something. It was the most half-assed plan I'd ever heard of, but it was what it was. We were desperate.

So, hesitantly, we took steps which would end up entangling us in the affairs of a world that was not our own.

We didn't make it far through the gate before being noticed. I quickly examined our surroundings. It was a courtyard – training dummies were set up here and there, and men, actual humans, were drilling. I don't mean drilling for oil or anything – I'm talking combat drills. With a yell, they would launch an attack at their respective dummy with their weapon, whether it was a sword, spear, axe, or hammer. Others were practicing archery. They were dressed like, I kid you not – Vikings. Freaking Norsemen. They wore chainmail, helmets, and furs, had long hair and were obviously not very hygienic.

Also scattered around the courtyard were more of the trolls. I'm not gonna lie to you – they scared the crap out of me.

Yes, we stepped into the castle and observed all of this. And not long after, when that first Viking absentmindedly looked over his shoulder and spotted the six of us, prompting him to call out to his comrades; we were the ones being observed. By a courtyard full of armed and dangerous creatures, no less. I don't think the thought of fight or flight crossed any of our minds. We just stood there, dumbfounded.

What I'm guessing was a Viking officer approached. He was tall, muscle-bound, and dressed more finely than most of the Norsemen in the courtyard.

"You there! What business do you have in the lands of Great Loki? Speak quickly!"

Panicked, we looked at one another. Jayson spoke up first.

"We're… salesmen."

Kelsey agreed, "Yes, we're vendors! We'd like to sell you some goods if that's alright."

The Viking smirked. "And what is it, my fair 'vendors', that you sell?"

We were stumped at that one. Our interrogator was about to speak again, but he then took a longer look at us, and then thought for a moment. An expression of worry flashed across his face.

"Old Worlders," he said softly, as if he recognized us. "Seize them! Take them to Great Loki!"

Before we knew it, we were surrounded. There was nothing to be done. We cooperated, and were led across the courtyard by an escort of armed guards, both trolls and Vikings, past a large pit in the center. I wondered what was down there, but decided I'd rather not ask.

We were marched into a large tower, the main structure in the castle. Perhaps large is an understatement. The tower was huge – very, very tall. I don't know how many stairs and walkways we had to ascend. Finally, we reached a long corridor lit with torches every few feet. Further down, in the middle of this hallway was a door, which was at least a good twelve feet tall and eight feet wide. Our escort stopped us here without explanation.

Silently, we waited outside the door for several seconds. After a few moments, it creaked open. Out marched another escort of guards, followed by the same group of prisoners we'd seen earlier. My heart jumped when I saw them. They didn't look in our direction; their captors led them in the opposite direction down the corridor.

Libby called out to them, "Hey!"

One of them whirled around to face the voice. He wasn't very tall, with dark hair, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, but he was definitely older than us. All of his friends followed his lead, turning and spotting us.

Aside from the first one, there were two other boys – one was tall, with dark blonde hair and a surfer-guy look to him. The other was black, also tall, and very skinny. The last was the only girl in the group – even in the scarce lighting of the corridor, I could tell that she was beautiful. She had flowing red hair, green eyes, and a kind face.

The guards noticed the disturbance, and a Viking raised his hand threateningly at Libby, since she had been the one to get their attention. Eli and Brett took a step between them, and Jayson moved defensively in front of her. After a few tense seconds, the guard thought better of it, and backed down. The other group of teenagers had already moved on down the corridor – there was nothing we could do.

Reluctantly, at the heeding of our escort, we moved through the door and into the room the other group had exited. This room was huge – the ceiling was a good one-hundred fifty feet above us, not to mention the length and width of the room, which I couldn't begin to hazard a guess at. Arches adorned much of the huge hall. The architecture was truly something to marvel at.

Our guards pointed us in the right direction – down a red carpet that ended in front of a throne. Sitting in the throne was a figure. As we moved closer to him, he it became obvious that he wasn't normal by any stretch of the imagination, even if some of his outward appearances made him appear so.

His face was that of a male model or actor – almost too perfect. Blond hair, a face that looked like it had been flawlessly constructed, a face that had been chiseled from marble. His teeth were straight and sparkling white. His body structure was athletic. He wore a green tunic made of some fine fabric.

Despite this, he was at least nine feet tall. An aura of greatness seemed to emanate from him – despite his charming appearance, he was evil. I knew this in my heart. Next to his throne lay the wolf. The very same wolf that had appeared in Brett's backyard.

As we approached the figure in the throne, we kneeled before we knew what was going on. It was practically an involuntary function – we were scared out of our minds by this immensely great and dangerous lord before us. To say he was imposing our intimidating would be an understatement.

He laughed as we knelt before him – the kind of snicker a villain in a movie might make. Then he spoke.

"Greetings, denizens of the Old World. I am Loki. I was hoping that you could help me with a problem…"

I couldn't believe it. We were being addressed the Norse god of chaos.

"What is it?" Brett asked fearfully.

"Quite simply I would like to find that which is mine. I wish to regain my witch. You would know her by the name 'Senna'."

The name didn't ring any bells – I'd never heard it, and apparently neither did any of my friends.

"Never heard of her," Jayson said.

Loki thought this over for a moment, and then slammed his fist down on the arm of his throne with a crash. I cringed. With a voice that grew rapidly angrier, he replied, "Then my son, Fenrir, was correct," he gestured to the huge canine. His body seemed to grow with his fury – the effect was subtle, but it was definitely there. "And you serve me no purpose. You have arrived here in Everworld by accident, mortals. Unfortunately, you will not have time to enjoy it."

I had no urge to fight whatsoever – I had two perfectly good firearms within arm's reach, but I didn't even consider trying to shoot Loki. I had even less of a desire to flee. After all, where would I go?

The god made a hand gesture to his guards, who quickly seized us, hauling us to our feet and dragging us from the room. I knew what was happening, as if Loki's final words to us hadn't made it clear enough – we were being marched to our execution. It was clear that my friends knew it as well. Their fearful expressions told the whole story. We were marched out the door and down the corridor after the other group. I wondered if they had been sentenced to the same fate.

To my surprise, we actually caught up with them – they were twenty yards in front of us. Their group was moving more slowly than we were. I wished that I could communicate with them, but I couldn't even talk to my own companions, much less the strangers ahead of us.

Then, it happened.

"NO!" With that yell, the dark-haired kid in front of us pulled a sword from the sheath of a nearby troll and chopped downward before its previous owner could react. The creature's arm was cloven off, and fell to the ground. To my amazement, it shattered upon hitting the ground – it had turned to stone mid-air. The stranger then jabbed the blade into the center of the troll's neck, and then pulled it out. Slowly, the troll's body did not fall, but instead turned to stone, beginning with the area surrounding the wound.

They weren't the only ones making good on their escape. Now it was our turn. Something, some survival instinct had been triggered inside of all of us. It was time to fight back. Eli moved first, tripping up the troll in front of him. The behemoth fell to the ground with a loud thud. My friend then brought his rifle to bear, aiming down at the troll. He hesitated for a second, and then pulled the trigger three times. My ears rang from the sound of the shots in the confined space. The living stone consumed the beast's body.

I was next. I jerked the Makarov out of its holster, clicked off the safety and jammed it into the back of the head of the troll that stood in front of me, all in one motion. I also hesitated. But not for long. I pulled the trigger twice, the pistol bucking in my hand, killing the beast. I wasn't sure how many enemies were left around me – I was acting on instinct, taking things as they came. I took a look to my left to see Kelsey. She brought her leg up to brace her foot against the back of a man in front of her. She reached for the hilt of his sheathed sword and grabbed it. She used her foot to push the guy forward, keeping her grip on the sword so that it came free while the Viking sprawled to the ground in front of her.

I quickly turned my attention to a Viking guard next to me. He began to draw his sword, but Brett moved in from the side, hitting the man with a vicious punch that caused him to stumble to the side. I had my reservations about simply killing this man. He was a human, after all – the trolls were another story. So, instead, I pulled out the stun gun. I clicked off the safety, jammed it into the Norseman's chest and pushed the button. A loud popping sound emanated from the device and blue sparks flew.

The guy jerked wildly as the spasms wracked his body and fell to the ground. Brett moved in behind him and wrapped his arm around his neck. A sleeper hold. Brett tightened his grip.

"Jon!"

I nodded, and stepped forward. Unsure of what to do, I actually began beating the guy over the head with my pistol, the impact of each blow reverberating through my arm. But he stayed conscious. He reached for a dagger on his belt.

"Jon, shoot him!"

Brett took action into his own hands. He pulled my revolver from its holster, put it to the man's temple, and pulled the trigger. Another loud crack echoed, and the man stopped struggling. Pushing the image from my mind, not wanting to look at the corpse, I turned to see how others were faring. Kelsey had finished off her foe. And Libby had actually grabbed a dagger and plunged it into the leg of a Norseman while Jayson smashed him in the face with his guitar case. These guys, especially the trolls, were slow-witted. Luckily, that was the last of them. For now.

The group in front of us had done just as well. The tall guy motioned for us to follow them, "You guys, c'mon!"

Eli yelled, "Run! Just go!", and took off sprinting down the stone corridor. We followed closely behind the strangers – we were on the run, but now we weren't afraid to fight back. Now we knew what we could do. We weren't helpless. That was one of the few comforts we had as we ran deeper into the dark corridor and the unknown beyond it…