Rainbow Brigade by J. A. Pitts

Author:J. A. Pitts [Pitts, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Urban Fantasy
Published: 2022-09-10T00:14:06+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Five

The stairs wound downward into bedrock. This was another place. I wasn’t in the Sideways, or anything like that, and I was definitely not in one of the other worlds I’d traveled in. I’m pretty sure I could feel that. This place seemed like it was out of phase, a place from another time, or a place pushed out of time like a long-forgotten love letter or something. I could feel energy and the expectancy. The bedrock the house was built on did not like this intrusion, did not appreciate this other place sharing its existence.

At the bottom of the stairs, the room opened out into a cavern. What was it with caverns? Made me think of dwarves.

The floor here was smooth from an unknown number of feet that had trodden the way before me. Partway across the thick darkness of the huge open room the torches along the far wall sprang to life. The lights were poorly spaced, allowing deep shadows to fill the nooks and crannies. I gripped Gram tighter and moved further into the great room.

An ornate throne stood on a dais along the western wall. To the left sat a smaller seat, like where Denethor sat in Gondor. I stopped, shaking my head—chagrined at the thought. My girlfriend may very well have broken my brain.

I glanced back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pale white glow from the doorway far above me. No such luck, of course. The tunnel had gone a goodly distance into the bedrock. I was counting on that doorway being there when I needed to go back. Call it foolish optimism.

I crept forward another few feet, and the thrones came into clearer view. On the smaller seat reclined a headless body of a woman, slumped against the thick cushions as if sleeping, you know, but without a head. That wasn’t freaking ghoulish, not a bit. Her gown didn’t appear to be soaked in old blood, so they dressed her after they decapitated her? Definitely did not bode well for whomever called these caverns their own.

On the larger throne sat a desiccated corpse dressed in Viking splendor—full winged helm, scale mail armor, gemstones gleaming on several fingers, a golden torque around the bony neck, and a great spear lying catawampus between the bony knees and up to the left of the gaping skull. Near the head of the spear, one great bony hand gripped the shaft.

Tanned and cracked skin covered the bones, but the underlying muscles appeared to have melted away. I’m not an idiot, usually. Part of my brain urged me to flee from this macabre scene. But that voice was small and held little conviction. The other voice, the voice of experience, called for caution. I continued forward, and the torchlight roared brighter, as if my presence fueled it. Before me I could see that the Viking’s face was a ruin—the left eye had been gouged out and was covered with a thin swath of weathered flesh.

This was Odin’s broken corpse.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.