The Sword of Surtur Read online

  Surtur was deaf to his daughter’s pleas. He raised Twilight in his fist and pointed it at the city walls. “Doom is upon you, Odin All-fool! The Lord of the Eternal Flame has come to melt your throne and blacken your bones! Watch, you one-eyed worm, as all you’ve built, all you’ve loved, is consumed by the fires of Surtur!”

  The fire giant lumbered onward, each stride bearing him nearer the Himinbjörg and the edge of Asgard. Tyr could hear now the war-horns and battle cries of Asgardians rushing from the city to defend the realm from the fire giant, but he knew they would arrive too late.

  Tyr left Sindr where she lay and charged across the Rainbow Bridge. There was only one strategy he could think of that might delay Surtur if even Heimdall was unable to defy the fire giant’s power. He had to provoke the monster’s fury, just as he’d goaded Sindr’s temper. Enrage the tyrant of Muspelheim so that he became fixated on annihilating Tyr before moving against the rest of Asgard. Whether envy of Thor or concern for Odin had motivated him more, it was his actions that had caused this crisis. If it meant his life, he had to do whatever he could to prevent the disaster that now threatened the realm.

  “I’d raise a flagon to you in Valhalla,” Bjorn told Tyr when the Aesir joined his friend, helping him get Heimdall back on his feet. The wolfhunter grimaced as Surtur approached. “Only I don’t think there’ll be a Valhalla left much longer.”

  “Know that any warrior who would stand his ground before Surtur himself would be certain of entering the halls of Valhalla,” Tyr assured his friend.

  Heimdall removed his horned helm and glanced at the Asgardians who stood to either side of him. “Hold me steady,” he told them. “Don’t allow me to falter.” He clenched his eyes tight. “May Odin forgive me for failing my duty, I see no other way to protect the realm.”

  Tyr laid his arm on Heimdall’s shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

  “Break the Rainbow Bridge,” the Vanir replied. Taking Hofund in both hands, he brought the sword stabbing down into Bifrost. The cosmic energy bound into the blade rippled through the prismatic span.

  What effect the blow might have had, Tyr would never know, for there was a power that opposed Hofund’s. Surtur swung Twilight in a sweeping arc across the bridge. The force unleashed by Heimdall was drawn out from the span, steaming away into the void. The fire giant repeated the motion, banishing the cosmic power as though he were brushing away a cloud of flies.

  “All will burn,” Surtur growled, glaring down at Heimdall. “But you will be the first.”

  Tyr left Bjorn to support Heimdall as the Vanir strained to channel Hofund’s power into Bifrost. Holding his own sword high, he returned to his original plan and marched to meet Surtur’s advance.

  “Heimdall will not be the first,” Tyr shouted at the enormous tyrant. “I will be, if you think yourself capable.”

  Surtur glowered down at him, his eyes reflecting the temper he’d passed along to his daughter.

  “Audacity and pretension,” Surtur hissed. “You dare presume, whelp of Odin? You think you can dictate terms to me?” The fire giant reached down with his hand. Tyr wouldn’t have believed something so enormous could muster such speed. Before he could react, Surtur caught him in his fist. He screamed in agony as the flames licked across his flesh. The giant squeezed, and even the armor Lorelei had given him was incapable of resisting the tremendous force that was brought to bear.

  “No,” Surtur seethed, relaxing his hold. “You’d prefer it this way.” He brought his hand up and stared directly at Tyr. The fires in the giant’s eyes felt as though they pierced the Aesir’s spirit. “No heroic finish for you, Odinson.” His cruel smile twisted with amusement as he swept Twilight across the bridge and continued to banish Hofund’s energies. “You’ll not distract me from my destiny! Asgard will burn, and you will watch as it does! Broken and helpless, you’ll see everything destroyed!”

  “I see the whole family must be braggarts,” Tyr spat at the giant. With the pressure around him relaxed, he was able to tilt forward and reach Surtur’s face. Arrogant and proud, Surtur had dismissed Tyrsfang as a weapon too feeble to vanquish him. Perhaps it was, but if it couldn’t kill Surtur, that didn’t mean it was powerless to hurt an aspect with only a portion of the giant’s terrible essence. Tyr raked the sword down Surtur’s cheek, slashing a deep furrow along it that soon filled with molten ichor.

  The fire giant snarled in surprise. His arm arched back, and he hurled Tyr to the ground. Tyr was grateful the surface he struck was the vaporous Rainbow Bridge rather than solid earth, otherwise the force with which he was thrown should have shattered every bone in his body.

  “All. Will. Burn!” the giant roared. Both hands clenched about Twilight, Surtur brought the sword swinging down. Flame exploded across the Rainbow Bridge, blasting everything and everyone before it. The bodies of fire demons were flung against the Himinbjörg. Heimdall and Bjorn were blown back, slamming into the fortress walls.

  Tyr hurtled through the air to crash against the edge of Bifrost. For a hideous instant he felt himself slipping, but a firm grip drew him back. Lorelei helped him onto the bridge. The sorceress was bruised and burned from Twilight’s attack. The bag with her arcane devices was gone, but Tyr saw that she had one last instrument clenched in her hands. The Wayfarer’s Mirror.

  Lorelei saw him looking at the mirror. “It’s the only thing left now,” she said. She gave him an anxious smile. “I didn’t mislead you when I said its power is capricious, but it does have power.”

  “Don’t,” Tyr told her, a sense of foreboding coming upon him. “Hofund couldn’t prevail against Surtur…”

  “I have to try,” Lorelei said, glancing down at the mirror. “If it will send him back, I have to try, whatever the danger.” She shook her head. “Whatever happens, remember me to your brother.”

  Tyr started after Lorelei, keeping pace as she ran towards Surtur. The giant grinned down at her, so certain of his unstoppable power that it was impossible for him to believe she could pose any threat to him. Briefly it looked as though he would use Twilight to strike her down, then the fire giant reconsidered the idea. He leaned down to take her in his hand.

  “We haven’t finished our fight!” Tyr shouted at the giant. His blade raked across Surtur’s hand, gashing the aspect’s fingers. The monster reared back, snarling in pain. His blazing eyes fixed upon Tyr and he brought Twilight sweeping down for the Aesir, determined to cut him in two.

  That was when the eerie light from the Wayfarer’s Mirror appeared at Surtur’s feet. The giant scowled at the strange luminescence, but too late did he associate it with the woman who so boldly defied him. By then the light had spread to surround him and was beginning to climb up the monster’s legs. Surtur roared his wrath to the stars as the light climbed higher, steadily ascending to engulf him. Already the legs had faded, washed away by the reflection from the mirror.

  It was a more gradual process than Tyr had seen in the forge, when Lorelei and Bjorn had transitioned from Muspelheim to Asgard, but he knew he was seeing the same process in reverse. Surtur rebelled against the magic that was casting his essence back to rejoin the rest of his being in Muspelheim. He exerted Twilight’s flame again, trying to break the enchantment. For a dreadful moment, it seemed the sword would accomplish just that. The light of the mirror began to retreat, sinking down to his waist after climbing as high as his chest.

  Lorelei trembled as she compelled the mirror’s sorcery. Tyr noted the arcane gestures she made with her hand, as if to catch strands of magic and weave them into the mirror. He saw something else as well. Something he was certain the sorceress was unaware of. The same light that was climbing up Surtur was now gathering around her own feet. By the sneer that formed on the giant’s face, Tyr knew it must be some devilry of his, reflecting the light back upon her.

  “If I return to Muspelheim, I don’t return alone,” Surtur hissed. He wore a loo
k of triumph, but his expression changed when the light continued to rise. A bestial howl of fury rang out and he struggled even more fiercely against the spell that was sending him back.

  “You have to stop!” Tyr shouted to Lorelei. The reflected light was now above her knees. She didn’t say anything, only shook her head. Tyr started forward, but hesitated. He was no enchanter. He didn’t know what would happen if he disrupted the spell. For all he knew, Lorelei would be torn in two, part of her remaining in Asgard, the other part cast into Muspelheim.

  “Don’t do this,” Tyr implored Lorelei, yet he knew she was doing what had to be done. Maybe there was another way to turn back Surtur, but this was the only way to do it before the fire giant could really begin his assault on Asgard.

  Surtur fought to the end to resist the spell laid upon him. He raised Twilight over his head and sent pulse after pulse of infernal flame searing down into the light. Each time the fire would drive the light back, but each time the retreat was less than before. Tyr thought that the giant was merely trying to outlast Lorelei, aware that she was likewise being transported by the light. Maybe if the sorceress were to vanish before he did, all her work would be undone.

  “Tyr! You must hold the light upon him!” Lorelei called out to him. Sheathing his sword, he took the Wayfarer’s Mirror from her grasp as the light swept up past her neck. As she directed, he kept the reflection focused on Surtur. It became a hideous race to see which would disappear first, Twilight or Lorelei. The pulsations from Surtur’s sword put the outcome in doubt to the very last. A ten-foot length of the blade remained untouched when only the very top of her head remained. Tyr didn’t dare to breathe in that last moment when a final jump of the light took the last part of Twilight, and the faint outline of Surtur’s gigantic form vanished utterly. At the same moment, the last vestige of Lorelei vanished.

  The moment the fire giant was gone, the Wayfarer’s Mirror burned with all the fires of Muspelheim. Tyr tried to retain his grip, but the pain was too much for him. There was a loud crash as the mirror fell onto the Rainbow Bridge. Although the nebulous fabric of Bifrost had been too ethereal to hurt Tyr when he was thrown by Surtur, it possessed enough solidity to shatter the Wayfarer’s Mirror.

  “Was that Lorelei?” The question was asked by Bjorn. Unnoticed by Tyr, the wolfhunter had joined him on Bifrost, limping from his many injuries.

  Tyr bowed his head. “She felt as responsible as any of us for allowing Surtur to come here,” he said in a low, grim voice. “Her magic brought Twilight here, it was her magic that sent the sword and its master back. She knew what it would cost her, but she refused to surrender.”

  “A warrior of Asgard,” Bjorn said.

  Tyr’s eyes remained fixed on the spot from which Lorelei had vanished. “A warrior of Asgard,” he agreed. He slammed Tyrsfang back into its sheath. “What she did here will not be forgotten.”

  Heimdall was standing guard over Sindr when Tyr and Bjorn made their way back to the head of the bridge. In the distance they could hear the sound of the mustered army marching to the Himinbjörg. Tyr was surprised that his father hadn’t ridden ahead on eight-legged Sleipnir, but then he realized no army would let its leader go before it into battle. Odin would be with his people to give them heart as they entered the fight. The city walls were high and thick, but no gate opened to face the Rainbow Bridge, a measure to force any invader to march around the battlements to force their way in. There was time yet before the host of Asgard arrived.

  Sindr glared at him when Tyr approached. Though there was still a green hue to her flames, it wasn’t as vivid as it had been before. Her exertions in the battle and the cruel use Twilight had made of her had weakened her, but she’d survived. Tyr expected the poison would be completely burned away before it could overcome her.

  “I would speak with our prisoner,” Tyr told Heimdall.

  “She seems little inclined to speak,” the Vanir advised him. He shrugged his shoulders. “But see what you can do.” Heimdall took a few steps back, but kept Hofund ready.

  “I say we have her head and be done with it,” Bjorn said, fingers tapping the edge of his axe. “Recompense for Lorelei.”

  Tyr shot his friend a stern look. “It is of Lorelei that I’m thinking.” He turned back to Sindr and crouched down beside the fallen giant.

  She gave him a defiant smile. “The witch was caught in her own trap,” Sindr laughed. She cocked her horned head to the side. “Tell me, Odinson, how do you think she’ll fare in the dungeons of Muspelheim?”

  “Better than you will here,” Bjorn snarled at her. Tyr waved him back.

  “Surtur has her,” Tyr said. “But we have you.”

  A simple statement, but it quenched the arrogance in Sindr’s pose. Steam boiled off her face. Tyr was stunned to see that a molten tear was sliding down the giant’s cheek. “What you’re thinking is useless. You can’t exchange me for her.” She looked down at the ground. “Surtur won’t bargain for me.”

  Tyr was well aware of how callous the fire giant had been of his daughter when the chance of destroying Asgard was before him, but he hadn’t imagined Surtur would forsake her utterly. He could read the terrible truth in Sindr’s posture. The proud, boastful warrior was tortured not simply by defeat but by a failure that went beyond the attack against Odin’s realm. Even when he was jealous of Thor and felt that his father’s favor was always fixed upon his brother, he still knew he had his father’s love. That was something Sindr had never known, something she’d fought fiercely to earn. He felt a strange pity for her, because what she wanted was something that simply wasn’t there. There was only one thing Surtur cared about, and that was the destruction of Asgard.

  “It is an awful thing when a father cares nothing for his child,” Tyr said.

  Sindr raised her head at his words. Defiance shone in her eyes. “Surtur will know my worth,” she snarled. “If it means I must wrest the crown of Muspelheim from him and hold it before his dying eyes, he will know who I am.”

  “Who you are is a prisoner,” Bjorn growled.

  Sindr scowled at the wolfhunter, then looked back at Tyr. “My father won’t bargain with you. I will. Let me go and I vow that your friend will escape Surtur’s dungeons.”

  “How can I trust your word?” Tyr asked her.

  “My father used me as a mere pawn in his schemes,” Sindr said, her voice crackling with bitterness. She waved her hand at the dead fire demons heaped against the Himinbjörg. “No different from these. I believed that when he came here and saw victory in his grasp he would come not as a destroyer, but as a conqueror.” Her hand clenched into a fist. “And that I would rule by his side. Do you think I will allow my father to profit by his misuse of me?”

  Tyr shook his head. He reached down and helped the giant rise. “It isn’t for me to say,” he told her. The sounds of Asgard’s forces were louder now. Soon they would reach the Himinbjörg. “Odin will judge.”

  “And will he trade the daughter of Surtur for your friend?” Sindr challenged him. She suddenly wrested free of his grip and jumped onto the Rainbow Bridge.

  Weary from the fight, it still would have been easy for Tyr to catch Sindr, but as he turned to give chase, he stumbled against Bjorn and kept the huntsman from pursuing her. Bjorn struggled for a moment to break free of Tyr’s hold then gave him a stunned look when he realized the obstruction was deliberate.

  “You’re going to let her get away?” Bjorn stared in astonishment. “You trust her promise that much?”

  Tyr shook his head and turned to watch Sindr. “No, I trust her pride. She made a vow to us, but it isn’t her honor that will bind her to it. It will be her ego that does. She spoke the truth when she said she wouldn’t let Surtur profit by his exploitation of her devotion.”

  Heimdall stepped down to the edge of Bifrost. He raised Hofund and brought its tip against the crimson bands of the Rainbow Bridge. �
��Let’s speed her on her way then.” Energy crackled from the sword into Bifrost. This time not to disperse its power, but to harness it. A few yards from Sindr, a portal took shape. The giant moved towards it. In a few moments she stepped through and the gate closed behind her.

  It was Tyr’s turn to be amazed. Heimdall smiled at his surprise. “I owe Lorelei a debt too,” he said. “Her magic kept me from failing my duty to Asgard.”

  Tyr shared a knowing look with Bjorn. They wondered how the Vanir would feel if he knew that it was also Lorelei’s magic that had frustrated his role as guardian of Bifrost and allowed them passage to Muspelheim in the first place.

  There was little time to ponder the question. The sound of galloping hooves charging through the ruins of the Himinbjörg told that the vanguard of Asgard’s army was upon them. A troop of mounted Valkyries emerged from the ruined fortress and spread out, spears at the ready. Through their cordon, eight-legged Sleipnir tromped toward Bifrost. Odin peered over the battlefield with his single eye, his gaze seeming to read every aspect of the fight from a single glance. Behind the All-Father, the other gods of Asgard rode forth, each ready to join the fray.

  Thor frowned and let Mjolnir fall from his hand to dangle against his side by the cord that bound the hammer to his wrist. “It looks like the fight is won already.” He nodded to Tyr. “You might have saved the rest of us a bit of the glory, brother,” he said with a laugh.

  Odin’s piercing gaze latched onto Tyr. “Yes, there’s a story to be told here.”

  Unlike Thor, there was no amusement in the All-Father’s voice.

  Epilogue

  Odin sat upon his throne, hands drawn across the arms of his chair, the three-pronged spear Gungnir leaned against the side of his seat while the scepter Thrudstok rested across his lap. The ravens perched upon the back of the throne, their eyes gleaming and their heads bobbing as they listened to Tyr’s tale. The wolves crouched at the All-Father’s feet, sometimes curling their lips and displaying their fangs at the sound of Tyr’s voice, for they were always illdisposed towards him.