Wicked Gods Read online

  “You mean like, we’re not on Earth?”

  “Yes, exactly! We’re not on Earth anymore.”

  She raised a blonde brow. “But it looks the same. Almost the same, but the streets and the buildings…”

  I smiled sadly. “What do you know about Norse mythology?”

  She shook her head. “Only what I’ve read in books.” That was a lot more than I’d known when I came here.

  “I’m going to spare you the details and give you the short version, okay?” Mainly because I wasn’t sure about the details myself. “See, all those stories about the gods and the Vikings and Valkyries and whatever—turns out, they’re true, but they’re different.” Imagine my shock when I’d found this out myself. “A long time ago, there were nine worlds ruled by Norse gods and goddesses, and they existed in peace for thousands of years. Then came the apocalypse, or Ragnarok, as the people here call it. Nobody can give you a straight answer as to what caused it, but all the gods died, and the nine worlds collapsed. They, uh…sort of, kind of tried to get away or something, and the one we’re in right now, Alfheimr, collided with Earth. You with me so far?”

  Millie just stared at me like I was a fucking lunatic.

  “Right. Right.” I cleared my throat and continued because I just wanted to get this over with. “Anyway, when Alfheimr collided with Earth, it sort of merged with it. I’m not sure about the rest of it, but here in Vanah, you can practically see half of Manhattan, and then the other half is what the old Vanah used to look like. Like this building.” I pointed at the round ceiling. “This survived the collision somehow. But basically, some places here look like Manhattan but aren’t. There’s no electricity, no working car, though you might find a couple in the streets, and the scenery changes from time to time. Like, the new buildings humans make in Manhattan are transferred here overnight. It’s totally strange, but nobody can explain it because nobody knows exactly what the hell happened when the two worlds collided. Understand?”

  Suddenly, Millie jumped to her feet. “Alright, I’ve heard enough. I don’t mean to be rude and I appreciate your help, but can you just show me how to get back? My grandma is sick, and she’ll be worried about me.”

  Already at the worst part?Shit, I thought I’d have more time.

  With my hands on my hips, I slowly backed away and sat on my bed. I wanted to look away from her face, too, but I couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry, Millie, but you can’t go back.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, unsure whether to laugh or not.

  “I mean, you can’t go back to Earth.” The bitter truth.

  “What are you talking about? Of course I can! I came here, didn’t I? Just take me back where you found me, and I’ll find my own way.”

  I pressed my lips together. “You didn’t believe a word I said, did you?”

  A visible shiver ripped through her. “Look, I really just want to go home, okay? Just take me where you found me.”

  Now she was afraid of me. I rolled my eyes.

  “I can take you wherever you want, but you can’t go back to Earth. Trust me, I’ve tried in every possible way for three years now, and I’m still here.” Not a day went by that this didn’t kill me.

  Tears in her eyes again. “You’re lying.”

  I stood up to face her. I was many things, but I was not a liar. Instantly, she backed away, closer to the door. I was scaring her even more.

  “I’m not lying, Millie. Come daylight, you can go check it out for yourself, but right now, if you go out there, I can’t promise you that you won’t die.” It was the simple truth. We were not one of them. We were always at risk. Even if Sennan hadn’t explained that much to me, I’d have figured it out on my own soon enough.

  “But it’s ridiculous!” she shouted. “I came here, didn’t I? I can go back that same way!”

  “Why do you think they took everything from you, huh? Even your panties.” I was beginning to get angry, too, and knowing none of this was her fault also made me feel guilty. A bad combination.

  “Because they were thieves,” she whispered, hugging herself.

  “Because they wanted whatever it was that brought you here,” I explained. “What were you wearing tonight?”

  “A dress. Just a dress and my purse. And some stockings and a coat—that’s it. I didn’t have anything valuable with me.”

  I shrugged. “Well, the only way you can get through the screens is if you’re holding—or wearing—something that’s marked with a master’s sigil. Whatever it was, it’s gone now. The Watchers have it.”

  Her chin shook like it wanted to fall off her. “It’s impossible. There has to be a way. I came here. I can go back! I have to. There has to be a way!”

  “I’m sorry. The only people who can pass through the screens freely are the masters, and they don’t give a shit about us.” It didn’t help that they were the only nine people in the world who could wield magic.

  “So let’s find them. Let’s find the masters. They have to take me back. I don’t belong here!” she shouted, then in an attempt to calm herself, wiped her tears with her hands furiously. “Look, my grandma is sick. I have to go back to her. I’m the only one she has, okay? The only one.”

  My heart broke for her—or rather the idea of her. The idea of me on my first night in Vanah.

  “The masters live on Earth. They only come here once a month and there’s no way you or I can even get close to them, though technically, it’s their obligation to take humans back to Earth if they want to leave this place.”

  Millie’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “So we’ll kidnap them,” she whispered, making me laugh.

  “Well, they can do magic, like spells and enchantments and shit, so no, you can’t kidnap them. Nobody can.” I’d have done it a million times by now if I could.

  Laughing like she was insane, Millie spun around in place, looking up at the ceiling.

  “So you’re telling me I’m stuck in another world that’s somehow merged with the city and there are…what, vampires? Werewolves? Witches out to kill me?”

  “Yeah, they call the vampires nightwalkers here. They don’t like human blood, but they’ll kill you for fun, so just stay away from them at any cost. And yes, there are shifters, but they don’t generally turn into any animal we know. They just become…beasts. Monsters. Anyway, that doesn’t happen often. My boss says nobody has shifted in Vanah in the past ten years, so I think we’re safe from that. And then there are imps, and trolls, and pixies, and the most dangerous of all—the Arcs and Diviners—the magic wielders. They can no longer do any magic, mind you, but they’re very strong still. Much stronger than the average human.”

  I knew she wouldn’t understand right away, but if she asked questions, I could answer them for her; otherwise I didn’t know how to wrap everything up in one conversation.

  Shocked out of words, Millie just stared at me for a while.

  “Why? How? Is this…” She took a step closer to me, terrified to even speak out loud, so she whispered. “Is any of this even real, or have I just hit my head real hard somewhere?”

  “No, you’re fine, and this is real. And I don’t know why or how, just that this world is dying just like the gods did, and so are its people.” It was why everybody wanted to go to Earth. Vanah, and every other city in Alfheimr had barely the resources to keep everyone alive. The land was dying. The water was almost gone. The magic, which according to Sennan was a big contribution to everyone’s lives in some way, had all but disappeared. If it wasn’t for the masters, who were out there on Earth trying to find a way to copy Earth’s resources to give Alfheimr another chance, this whole world would have gone to ashes long ago.

  “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? With this place gone, we’d be back home, wouldn’t we?” Millie said.

  I shook my head. “We’re already here. If this place dies, so will we.”

  With her hands on her face, she sighed loudly.

  “I think it’
s best if you just sleep here tonight. You can even take my bed.” I still had to clean up and bandage myself anyway. “In the morning, you can go wherever you want and do whatever you want to do. Tonight is all I can offer you, but we’ll talk more in the morning when you’ve had the chance to rest.”

  It was obvious she didn’t believe me, and that was okay. Soon she was going to see everything for herself and hear the stories from the people who were part of them. I’d done my part. I’d be able to sleep tonight—even though I’d be doing so on the floor—with my conscience clear, knowing that I’d done everything I could to help out a fellow human. More than anyone in this world had been ready to do for me. Except Sennan, who took me off the street and threw me into a fighting cage to die. I honestly can’t tell if that’s better or worse, but anyway.

  Millie wasn’t happy, but she agreed to try to sleep before we could talk more. I tried to tell myself that tomorrow was going to be easier, but something told me that was a big fat lie.

  Three

  I woke up to a scream ringing in my ears. The apartment swam when I jumped to my feet too fast, and I nearly hit the floor I’d been sleeping on. Seeing the girl in front of my bed with her head in her hands brought a wave of panic down my body until I remembered who she was. Where I’d found her. Why she was screaming.

  Lowering my arms, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My whole body still hurt from the fight with the half-troll in Sennan’s cage. I’d tried my best to bandage the wounds on my back from the fence he’d thrown me against the night before, right after the girl—Millie—had fallen asleep, but I wasn’t sure I’d done a good job. My muscles were still weak. I was going to need to rest for a couple days before I could go back to training, but I’d have time now that it was morning and Millie had woken up.

  Just as soon as she’d stop screaming.

  She’d taken the fabric I’d put over the only window in my apartment off, and she’d seen outside. I could perfectly imagine what she’d found: a city that didn’t really look like a city and people who didn’t really look like people. Well, some of them, at least. Cautiously, I stepped around her and hung the piece of fabric on the nail by the window frame before turning to her.

  “It’s real,” she whispered when she stopped to take a breather. “It’s real, isn’t it? Last night is real. This place is real. It’s real!”

  Here I thought it was going to get easier the next morning.

  With a sigh, I made for the kitchen and started to prepare some coffee. Thank God they had that in Vanah. At first, it didn’t taste quite the same as the coffee back home, but now this was all I associated a coffee’s taste with. Maybe Millie would like it. She, at least, was no longer screaming.

  I held off from commenting until I put a brown mug in her hand and gently pushed her shoulders back until she sat down on the bed.

  Her eyes were wide with horror, her chin shaking, her skin pale as a ghost. I felt so bad to see her like that, I almost regretted having taken her home the night before.

  “It’s coffee. It’ll help clear your thoughts.” I pushed the mug toward her lips until she took a small sip. “Good, good. It’s important that you’re very focused for what I’m about to say to you.”

  “Please tell me this is just a dream. It’s not real—it’s just a stupid dream,” she said, but to her credit, she didn’t break down again.

  “It’s not a dream. It’s all real, Millie. The sooner you admit that to yourself, the better off you’ll be.”

  Shaking her head, she held onto the mug tightly with both hands. “So what am I going to do now?” She sounded so broken.

  “You’re going to survive,” I whispered, unsure if what I was telling her was even good advice. “I’m going to talk to the guy I work for and see if he can find a place for you in his bar. You’re going to live just like you would back home—you’ll work, pay rent, buy food, and avoid contact with anyone as much as you possibly can, okay?”

  “I don’t want to work in a bar. I want to go home,” she said, as if she was surprised this hadn’t occurred to me before.

  “I want to go home, too, but we can’t. Not right now. Maybe a time will come, but until then, you need to know that just about anything can get you killed around here. You don’t talk to people, you don’t look them in the eyes, you avoid them like they’re a disease. And if someone talks to you, you say fuck off. Got that? Fuck off. It’s basically your new hello.”

  “No, no, no, wait. I’m not going to work in a bar! I’m going to find a way to get out of this place!” she shouted and put the mug down before standing. She furiously pushed her long hair from her face and looked around the room as if she was hoping to find an answer written somewhere on the walls. “The masters come here once a month, and when they do, I’m going to get them to talk to me. I’ll do anything it takes.”

  “But the masters aren’t coming back for another three weeks. Until then—“ She wouldn’t even let me finish.

  “Until then, I’m going to try to find a way out of here the same way I came.” Millie actually sounded hopeful. I tried to understand, I did, but I didn’t want her to die on the first day, damn it.

  “Millie, you don’t know what it’s like out there. I’ve been here for three years and—”

  “And you’ve given up,” she said, making me cringe. “That’s what you did—you gave up, and that’s fine, but you can’t expect me to do the same. I don’t belong here. I’m going back home.” She ran for the door, apparently fearful that I’d try to stop her.

  “Be careful, Millie,” I called from the bed, no longer having enough energy to even argue with her. “Don’t trust anyone.”

  She turned the lock, opened the door, and turned to look at me for one last time with a smile on her face: “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” And she disappeared.

  The screen I’d come through was right in front of me. I could see it shimmering under the lights of both sides—both worlds. It was like a flimsy fabric, more liquid than concrete, and you could see through it perfectly. I saw the alley through which I’d tried to run from the cops who were going to arrest me for the murder of my father. I also saw the main street at the end of it—full of light and full of people. Full of life. The anger burned every cell in my body, bringing tears to my eyes. Breathing became impossible until I did the one thing I always knew not to do but did anyway.

  I slammed my fists against the screen.

  I was used to it by now, so when whatever it was that protected it threw me back, I knew how to land. I was wearing my gloves so my hands wouldn’t get scratched, and I landed backward on all fours. The magic that protected the screens was the only thing that still worked in Vanah, it seemed. It never dimmed, never became weaker, never disappeared like I’d wished so many times it would. I still came out here at nightfall, but I no longer tested all the screens in Vanah.

  Why?

  Maybe Millie was right. Maybe I had given up and I just didn’t know it. Maybe I’d gotten used to this life.

  Her words had haunted me every second of the day like an invisible ghost breathing down my neck. You’ve given up. It had been months now since I’d been to the other screens. I only ever came here to watch the people back home—and I came here for them, never hoping to be able to make it through. I wanted to scream so badly because Millie had definitely been right. I’d lost hope and I hadn’t even realized it. I’d fallen into a routine, had taught myself how to stay safe, alive, and somehow, that had begun to be enough.

  It wasn’t.

  Laughing at myself in the dark like a lunatic, I wiped my tears and turned to leave. I would not let myself give up. I was going to go to each screen every night, and I was going to test them until there was no doubt left in my mind. And when the night was over, there would be the next. And the one after that. Nobody said that screens couldn’t disappear at any given time. Rather than wasting time looking at the people minding their business back home, wishing to trade places with them, I was going to
try. It didn’t matter how many times I failed, I’d still try again.

  Unfortunately for me, when the last screen threw me back on my ass on the cold asphalt, I didn’t feel any better. Any more fulfilled. It was a reminder of why I’d stopped testing in the first place, but I couldn’t let myself fall back into that place. I couldn’t let myself fall back into the routine. No more hiding. People had stopped trying to kill me long ago. There was no reason to hide. No reason to live without living.

  So tonight I was going to Sennan’s bar just to get one of those awful ales.

  That was either the stupidest or smartest decision I’d made in over three years. Whichever it was, it changed my life forever.

  Seeing Millie at the Lounge like she’d been there a thousand times before was like a slap to my face. She sat at one of the tables by herself, completely at ease, so different from the girl in my apartment that morning. She still wore my clothes, but her hair was tied back now and she didn’t keep her head down. Or her eyes. On the contrary—she was openly staring at everyone at the bar, and the creatures couldn’t be happier.

  The urge to shout at her from across the room was overwhelming, but before I could run to her, someone tapped me on the shoulder. Too shocked still to react, I just held my breath and waited.

  “Don’t tell me you changed your mind,” said Sennan in my ear.

  Rolling my eyes, I turned around to face him, thankful for the distraction. “I’ll tell you what, old man. I’ll change my mind the day you can do your magic thingie again.”

  His smile faltered. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.” He shook his finger in my face before slipping behind the bar. I followed him, but my eyes stayed with Millie. So far, nobody had gone to talk to her, which was strange. By now, people should have been trying to eat her alive. What the hell was going on?

  “So you took her with you,” he said while he poured me a glass of ale, ignoring the pixie sitting beside me completely. He was taller than me, very thin, and his short hair, pointy chin and extra long fingers were as creepy to me as they’d been when I first saw one of his kind. Don’t know what it was about pixies and hair, but you couldn’t find one to keep it longer than a couple inches. The mysteries of Vanah.