God Trials (WereWitch Book 7) by Renée Jaggér

God Trials (WereWitch Book 7) by Renée Jaggér

Author:Renée Jaggér [Jaggér, Renée]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-10-08T04:00:00+00:00


The door to the castle storeroom widened to something like the ragged mouth of a cavern as the supporting beams and stones burned and melted. Debris flew and floated on swirling winds and powerful electromagnetic currents. The ceiling was starting to buckle and looked like it might collapse.

Bailey grunted, straining as the full strength of her abilities fought the magically empowered wrath of the berserker. Despite his apparent lack of self-control, Ragnar was winning. His raw power, experience, and madness were too much.

Carl was back in the fight, though. He assailed Ragnar from the sides and rear with small blasts of magic as well as psionic confusion spells. Though he was still recovering from his severe beating, his contribution was enough to distract the Norseman from maintaining his shield.

A mass of arcane fury swept over Ragnar and drove him back, stumbling and then rolling through the hall, his clothes smoking. Bailey pulled Carl out through the ravaged door, and they started down a perpendicular corridor. Bailey conjured a quick shield behind them.

They’d made it halfway when Ragnar came around the corner, bellowing like an enraged animal and hurling magic with wild abandon. A blast struck the pair from behind and exploded the magical barrier, and they tumbled forward.

Bailey jumped back to her feet, not badly affected. It looked like Carl was struggling not to pass out, though. She took his arm.

“Go on,” she told him, “get help. I can hold him off until you come back with the cavalry.”

He shook his head sharply as Ragnar laughed behind them, pausing to savor his next attack.

“I can’t,” Carl protested. “I’ll stay with you. I’ve been ordered to.”

“What?” Bailey’s stomach clenched. “Don’t tell me...” Her voice trailed off as Ragnar stomped closer, and she spun to face him.

Standing by her side, Carl elaborated. “Ragnar’s not the only agent here. Balder sent me. I’m one of his apprentices, here on his behalf to observe and aid. Just like our friend there.” He gestured at the berserker. “I, however, don’t feel that you’re a threat and decided the best thing I could do was aid you.”

The Norseman had stopped, staring at them and grinning in his insane way, exerting the minimum of self-control necessary to stretch out the moment before he moved in for the kill. And, it seemed, he was giving Carl time to finish speaking.

The dark-skinned scion went on, “I know I’m not part of the Norse pantheon, and it’s not something I’d thought about before. My mother was a goddess from a completely different tradition, but Balder took me under his wing anyway. He found me at a low ebb in my life, felt bad for me, and chose to train me in magic and combat. I owe him everything.”

Bailey was not offended. Carl might have been standing with her because it was his job, but he was still a friend as far as she was concerned. “Let’s do this together, then. Balder’s boy and Fenris’ girl against Freya’s rabid dog.”

Hearing her put it that way, a strange abashed look came over Ragnar’s face.



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