Harry emerged from the central fire of the Hunter's Camp at a quick pace, but he still stopped respectfully in front of the Hunter who had let him though. "Thanks for letting me through, Miss Celyn," he told the Hunter.
"You seemed in quite a hurry," she noted.
He nodded at her. "Something's wrong, I think, and I need Artie's help."
Celyn shook her head gently. "My Lady is in her tent, I think you know where it is," she said, gently teasing.
He nodded seriously. "Thanks, Miss Celyn!" he told her and took off at something quicker than a jog. He dodged two other Hunters, as well as one of the guardian wolves, and reached the tent in short order, scratching at the flap to request entrance.
"Enter," Artie's voice reached from inside.
He pulled the flap back and almost jumped inside.
"Harry?" Artie asked, looking up from where she was doing some kind of paperwork, Zoë sitting on the other side of her desk. "You seem agitated," she noted, standing up when she saw of him.
Harry nodded quickly. "I think something's really wrong Artie," he said. "He's missing and nobody seems to care or know where he is, but I found out and now I need help to get there," he said, an avalanche of barely consistent words spilling from his lips as he tried to convey as much knowledge as quickly as possible.
"Harry, calm down," Artie instructed gently yet commandingly as she strode over, and sat down on one of the pillows. "Have a seat," she commanded, waving to one of the available pillows. "And tell me what the matter is. Calmly," she instructed the last word.
Harry swallowed, nodded quickly, and practically fell onto the pillow. "Someone I know is in trouble," he said, knowing better than to say he was looking for a god of a different pantheon. Gods usually didn't like the competition, or the rivalry, or the whatever-it-was between different pantheons, and he didn't want Artie dismissing him out of hand because of it.
"I know where he is, but nobody else seems to care," Harry went on. "But he's in a remote location in Iceland, in the far north of the island, and there's no fire around to travel to."
"I can see why this is a problem," Artie said. "And you are quite sure this person is in trouble?"
Harry nodded eagerly, emphatically. "I just know something's wrong, Artie!"
"And why come to me?" she asked, curious.
"I can't get to him because there's no fire around, and I was… kind of… sort of…" Now that he was seated in front of her, this didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. Oh gods, what if Artie got really mad at him? "I was… maybe…" he hesitated.
"Just say it, Harry," Artie said, looking amused at his hesitation.
"Surely thy request can't be that bad," Zoë said, having taking a seat as well.
"I was hoping one of the Hunters could walk me there?" Harry asked, timidly.
Zoë looked like she couldn't decide between indignation and all-out laughter. "Thou wouldst employ us as a taxi service?" she asked, tone just as wavering between indignation and outright hilarity.
Artie, on the other hand, looked stone-faced. "Indeed," she said. "My Hunters are not your personal transport, Harry. Neither they, nor I, am at your beck and call."
Harry's shoulders slumped. "Please don't be mad, Artie," he whispered. "I didn't know who else to turn to."
"Aunt Hestia, perhaps?" Artie said, still sounding rather annoyed, but no longer outright hostile.
"My friend's in trouble," Harry answered, still staring at the floor. "And I don't think Hestia would let me go."
Artie sighed. "Aunt Hestia, bless her kindness, can indeed be quite overprotective," she said. "And I suppose you have been spending quite some time with my old friend, so I suppose that your initial reaction of asking her for assistance isn't so far-fetched."
Zoë seemed to be in two minds, still, but remained silent.
Harry looked up, hopefully. "I just need to find him," he explained. "A mile or two away is fine, really. That way there's no risk to the Hunter."
Artie sighed, but didn't reply.
Feeling his hopes for help crumble, Harry's shoulders sagged. His sense of wrongness increased.
"While I am aware that it would take but a few minutes, and there is no risk, that is still a substantial favor," Artie finally said. "I am the Goddess of the Hunt; not the Goddess of Travel. Had you come to me with a request for assistance in a hunt, I could grant it, easily. However, this… this would be crossing outside my domain."
Harry swallowed, suddenly understanding her problem. "I'm hunting my friend?" he offered. "Or maybe I should say, tracking my friend."
Artie's lips quirked with amusement. "Technically true," she noted. "However, it will likely still cause me trouble when it is found out."
Harry nodded sadly, then thought of something. "I've been working on my own version of schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte," he said. "Would you like one? For your trouble?"
Artie looked surprised. "Black Forest-" she started to say, then cut herself of, as if afraid he would withdraw the offer. "Deal!" she said, excitedly.
Harry blinked, not having expected her to give in that quickly or that enthusiastically.
"My Lady!?" Zoë asked, sounding surprised. "Thou wouldst trade our services for confectionary?" She sounded angry now, and Harry shrunk back. He didn't like it when his friends were angry, even if it wasn't at him.
Artie nodded. "I'll save you a slice, Old Friend."
Zoë crossed her arms and looked away. "'T is a substantial hit to our dignity, I could not possibly agree for less than half."
"HALF?" Artie squeaked. "For half, I'll take him myself, in my chariot. Two slices."
Zoë looked at her goddess. "Three slices, final offer," she said. "'T is no big trouble, but 't is quite embarrassing to be relegated to being taxi service."
Harry hated seeing them like this. "Ehm… I can just as easily make two cakes?" he offered. "Please don't argue."
"We weren't arguing," Zoë said. "'T is called 'haggling'. However, to each a full cake?" she asked, getting a confirming nod from him. "Thou hast a deal."
"We'd better keep it quiet, however," Artie said. "Or we'll have to share."
Harry gaped at her, but Zoë nodded thoughtfully. "True. 'T would be a shame to only get a small piece, after all the hard work." She turned to Harry, and asked, "Where dost thou need to go?"
He wasn't really sure what was going on, or what to make of it, but he was willing to ignore the whole lot of it if it meant getting help. "I have coordinates," he said. "It's in the north of Iceland. If you have a map, I can show you where it is."
"If I have a map?" Artie asked, her voice tinted with amusement. She got up and withdrew a book from a drawer in her desk. "So, about those cakes?"
"If I find my friend and he's fine, I can get started tonight. If he's not fine and I run into trouble, it may take a day or two? Depending on what happens, I mean."
"Depending on whether thou get hurt and need to heal, thou meanest," Zoë noted carefully, her arms crossed and staring at him.
"Very well," Artie said, putting the atlas down in front of him. "Zoë and I shall be patient for the end of your… quest."
Harry gave her a grateful smile, and then hugged her anyway. "Thank you, Artie. Thank you so much for helping."
She patted his back. "It's more of a business transaction," she said with amusement. "But you're welcome. Now, show me where poor Zoë has to take you."
Zoë looked like she didn't like being described as poor, nor that she appreciated the insinuation that walking him to Iceland would be any kind of hardship.
He flipped through the charts, finally digging out a map of Iceland. Taking out the scrap paper with the coordinates, he looked up the spot and put his finger on the spot. "That's where I need to go," he said.
Zoë looked and nodded. "Thou art lucky that I know Iceland quite well," she said. "With thy luck, we could have had to ask Phoebe."
Harry swallowed. "I'm sure Miss Phoebe wouldn't have hurt me too badly before she got me there," he answered bravely.
"Or perhaps she would have left thee stranded in the Sahara," Zoë said with a grin, causing him to pale. "Shall we depart?"
Harry nodded, and hugged Artie again, once more thanking her for the help. A few moments later, the camp was far behind them as Harry followed in Zoë's footsteps.
They walked in silence, until Zoë stopped, somewhere on a rocky plain. "Thy goal is ten minutes that way," she said, indicating the direction of a nearby mountain range.
"Thanks, Miss Zoë," Harry offered shyly. "For everything."
"It seemed urgent," Zoë said with a shrug. "Although 't would be best if thou did not rely on the Hunters for ferrying thee around," she added with a bit of a grin.
Harry nodded; "I didn't know who else could get me here on short notice," he said. "I was kind of desperate."
Zoë gave him a nod. "So it would seem," she said. "I shall leave thee here. Good luck."
"Thanks, Miss Zoë," he said, the Hunter giving him one last nod, before taking two steps and practically vanishing.
He drew a deep breath, swallowed, and walked in the direction indicated by his guide. The sense of urgency pushed him forward. He wondered what he was going to find at his destination. Thor, no doubt, but in what state or condition?
He traveled under the cover of darkness, and used every trick taught to him by Zoë and Artie to remain silent. He didn't want to alert anyone to his presence before he found out what was wrong.
He crossed a hill, and immediately pulled back.
Alright, now he knew what was wrong. He had been headed straight for a huge cave, which went straight into the heart of a mountain. Outside said cave stood two giants. Actual giants. With blue skin.
Harry sighed; Thor must be inside the cave, and the fact there were guards out bode nothing well. Bringing out his bracers, Harry threw on his camouflage spell. He didn't want to run the risk of his sword or shield making a noise or touching anyone so he left them concealed. Not that it mattered; he could bring them out quickly if it mattered.
Now silent and invisible, he carefully walked between the two blue-skinned giants, and carefully entered the huge cave they were guarding. He was thinking about calling them Ice Giants, due to their skin-color. Or Frost Giants, maybe. He remembered something about there being Frost Giants in Norse Mythology, so maybe those were actual Frost Giants.
Or not. For now, he would call them Frost Giants and see what Thor had to say.
The cave itself appeared to have been mined, its walls and roof shored up with timbers. It descended quickly, with rough steps hewn into the bedrock. Unfortunately, those steps were sized for giants and were therefore far too large for Harry.
He had to descend carefully by lowering himself each step, like a small child descending a staircase. Luckily, he had his trusty spell to keep him quiet and invisible so he wasn't detected.
When he finally arrived at, what he guessed was, the ground floor, he found that the giant-sized tunnel veered to one side.
He threw a grateful look at the various torches that threw off ample light. Even if he was a bit miffed at them for not being valid destinations for fire-travel. It had probably something to do, Harry realized, with the fact no torch could burn continuously. Whoever had conjured, crafted, created, or otherwise built this cave was keeping them burning. Which probably made them magic rather than fire, which would put them outside of Hestia's sphere of influence.
Or something. He wasn't here for the torches. He was here for Thor.
Carefully, keeping to one wall, he crept along the tunnel, once pushing himself all the way flat against the wall as a Frost Giant lumbered passed. The being had a massive club hung from his belt, and was grotesquely picking his nose, sure in the supposition that he wasn't being overseen.
Harry emerged onto a ledge that was overseeing a chamber quite different from the tunnel and the stairs. Those had been hewn or otherwise crafted to fit giants. This room was huge, but obviously designed and created by humans.
Along the sides of the chamber were niches; niches filled with coffins.
This was a burial chamber. A large one.
Harry couldn't fathom why Frost Giants would bother tunneling into a human burial chamber of ancient times, but obviously they had done so for some reason. In the center of the room, three Frost Giants were having a conversation in a weird, guttural tongue that Harry couldn't make sense of.
Carefully, he descended from the ledge to the room proper. Obviously, the ledge had been part of the room's original construction, as there were proper human-sized steps leading down. Next to it, some Giant has stacked a few huge rocks to use as steps, and Harry eyed the improvised staircase warily. Nothing said 'size difference' as much as seeing a staircase with steps that came to your shoulders.
Holding his breath despite the spell keeping him silent, Harry eased by the three conversing giants. The conversation didn't seem to be going well; one of the giants had smacked a second across the face, causing the third to burst out laughing. The slapped giant growled something, something that sounded insulting even to Harry's untrained ears. The first giant growled back, and slapped the second again, causing more hilarity from the third.
Ignoring the bickering giants, Harry carefully ducked into the giant-sized tunnel on the other side of the burial chamber. These tunnels had been created by giants again; Harry could see the marks of excavation and the wooden shoring supporting the walls and roof. However, it also appeared as if this corridor had seen battle, the walls had scorch marks, as had the ceiling. In front of Harry was a stain left by some unidentified fluid that had seeped into the stone. If it had been red, Harry would have assumed it was blood of some kind.
Two giants came the other way. The one on the left pointing to an object and grunted something in that weird, guttural speech of theirs.
The one on the right grunted in response. While Harry couldn't understand the actual words, the tone was one of suffering; the way one would respond 'fiiiine' to get out of an argument.
The giant in question ducked down and attempted to lift the object the first giant had pointed at. He strained, grunted, and finally, released.
The left giant, who had obviously challenged his friend to some feat of strength, burst out laughing and slapped him on the back. The speech was teasing. The other giant righted himself, grunted dismissively, and motioned, as if asking 'can we get on with it now?'
Harry kept quiet and flattened himself against the wall, letting the two giants pass. As soon as they had done so, he released his breath and went deeper, curious as to what the two giants had been doing.
The object appeared to be a large and ornately crafted hammer of a design Harry hadn't seen before. Curious, he approached it; each surface appeared to be filled with Norse Runes of unknown design and significance.
I bet this is Thor's, Harry thought to himself. I wonder if it's really that heavy? If I can lift it, I should probably bring it along for him.
He reached down and grabbed the handle; having seen the giant fail to pick it up, he didn't have much hope himself, but still.
The hammer seemed to come off the ground with almost no effort, almost overbalancing Harry, who had been bracing himself. Oh, I guess it's enchanted, Harry noted. Seeing a large strap at the end of the hammer, he carefully hung the huge weapon from a loop on his belt; immediately the spell covered it, making it invisible.
He snuck deeper into the cave, emerging into another room that seemed excavated by whatever magic employed by the giants. This one appeared to be a barracks of some kind, huge bunks pushed against the walls while the center of the cavern held some equally huge tables.
Tables around which sat at least 10 giants, if not more. Harry was starting to see why Thor had a problem. If the god had come here to stop whatever it was these giants were doing with the burial chamber, he could have been ambushed by the small army of giants that seemed to be occupying the cave.
Carefully, he made his way through the cavernous barracks, making sure the boisterous giants were unaware of him.
Unfortunately, the door on the other side of the room was closed. Opening it would draw attention to himself – doors didn't open by themselves, after all.
Frowning harshly at the door, as if it had personally insulted him, Harry thought of a solution.
In the end, he decided on generating a noise on the other side of the door using magic, loud enough to draw the attention of the giants in the barracks. As he had hoped, one of them came to investigate.
Harry stood to one side, out of the way, and as the giant pulled the door open, he raced through, trusting his camouflage spells to keep him unseen and unheard. The giant stepped through the door, stared down the hallway, grunted at seeing nothing, and slammed the door closed behind Harry's back.
It was loud enough to be deafening, and the young demigod grunted with pain, his ears ringing. He hoped that ringing would go away soon, it was annoying.
He focused on the new hallway he found himself in, and noted how it was sloping down, deeper into the bowels of the earth. Carefully, he followed it.
The hallway was deserted, but it seemed to be strangely natural. Almost as if this had been a natural cave at one point, but enlarged to grotesque proportions through some unknown magic. The stalactites hanging from the ceiling made sense for a small cave, but their proportions seemed wrong for them to be as large as they were.
He emerged into yet another cave-like room. Much like the hallway it appeared to have been a natural cave, enlarged through magical means; once more the proportions matched a much smaller cave rather than one as large as this one.
Against one wall, seated at a, for them, small table were two giants. They seemed to be drinking something while playing with a deck of cards.
Against the other wall, chained with thick heavy chains of some unknown metal, was Thor.
The demigod sighed; Thor really was in trouble, it seemed. His last hope of this being anything else went out the door now that he saw his friend chained up.
There was an opening to one side, with a cavern leading even deeper, but it was at a right angle so Harry couldn't make out what was beyond.
Carefully, he watched the two giants; they were fully occupied with their game. Swallowing deeply, he approached the cave wall holding Thor.
The Norse God didn't look well; he had a black eye that had swollen shut, a cut across one of his cheeks, and really did look like he had been on the wrong side of a bar fight.
His arms were shackled with thick shackles around his wrists and a powerful chain threaded through a pair of brackets embedded in the wall. The entire setup must have been immensely strong, as Thor's arms were stretched upward and his entire body hung, suspended, from it.
With his feet not touching the floor, there was very little leverage that the suspended god could exert, and he was therefore quite helpless.
Harry frowned; Thor looked like he was in pain, and he hated seeing his friend that way.
Carefully, he examined the wall, trying to find a way to release Thor from his captivity. They would probably have to fight their way out, a prospect which didn't enthuse Harry at all, but the alternative was leaving his friend here and that was even more unacceptable.
When someone had enlarged the room, they had simply taken it and multiplied the dimensions by four or five, Harry guessed. That was a mistake, as it had enlarged everything in the room by that amount.
Included the little imperfections that could be found in any cave wall.
Which in turn meant footholds, and plenty of them. Carefully, Harry crawled up the wall, high enough to position himself so he could touch the chain.
Focusing slightly, he dropped the 'unheard' part of his spell. "Thor, it's Harry. I'm going to try and cut you loose," he whispered to his friend, before immediately throwing his spell back up.
Thor, it seemed, was a professional. Other than a small start at the unexpected sound, he gave no further indication he had heard Harry.
Harry brought out his sword, careful to keep it wrapped in his cloaking spell. Acid, he requested.
The sword's presence seemed to grin.
Taking that as acceptance, Harry carefully placed his weapon against, what he assumed to be, the weakest spot: the place where the shackle was attached to the chain. If he could cut through one end, Thor would be free – even if he still had the bracers on, and with a length of chain attached to the other side.
The preternaturally sharp edge of the weapon did nothing against the strange godly metal that was keeping Thor imprisoned, but the acid component from a Hydra's acidic blood seemed effective nonetheless. A hissing sound emerged, followed by the smoke and smell of acid burning through metal.
Harry winced and looked at the two giants. They appeared fully occupied on the other side of the cave, seemingly engaged in some kind of argument. Releasing his breath, he figured that they wouldn't be hearing the hissing any time soon, and he hoped that the large cave would allow the smell to dissipate enough.
The shackle was thick, as was the chain, and it took a good ten minutes for the Godslayer's borrowed acid to eat through it. Every second of those ten minutes had been torture. Every time the giants' attention on their discussion wavered, every time their volume dropped, every time they even glanced in Thor's direction, Harry's heart felt like it would stop.
Finally, agonizingly, the chain creaked and released. Immediately, the chain noisily slid through the brackets holding Thor up, and his feet hit the ground. With no effort at all, the god accepted the impact, and immediately threw himself at the two giants.
Two giants that were now staring dumbly at the mass of muscle and divine fury bearing down on them. It seemed Thor had no problems with having been suspended from his arms for quite some time, and he neared the first giant and pummeled him straight in the face.
The giant roared loudly and staggered back; his friend regained his wits and threw himself at Thor, grappling him.
Harry dropped down from the wall, rolling over the ground to absorb the impact, and raced towards where Thor was now brawling with the second giant. The first one, hands clapped over his face, roared again, and charged. Harry immediately noticed a filthy liquid dripping down the giant's face. It seemed that Thor's first strike had broken his nose. Immediately, he recognized the liquid as being the one that had left the stain on the floor in the corridor earlier.
More roaring came from the unseen hallway and from the entrance that Harry had come in from. It seemed that the other giant had heard the commotion and would be arriving shortly.
The first giant threw himself on top of Thor, who was still grappling with the second giant. However, by now, Harry had reached them.
Poison, he told the blade, which happily complied. A poison composed of both Hydra and Chimera venom coated the blade on top of its acid-laden properties, and Harry slashed up at the giant that had blind-sided Thor.
He was aiming for the upper thigh, where in a human the femoral artery would be located. His slash went deep, thanks to the poison easily eating through the giant's skin. Immediately, the screaming of the giant changed; the fury had been replaced with pain.
The giant stumbled back, and dropped to one knee. Wavering, he grabbed for the gash in his leg, looking in confusion at it, wondering where it had come from.
He screamed again, the wound bleeding that strange vile liquid that Frost Giants called 'blood'. The wound was starting to turn color, from frosty blue to an incredibly unhealthy-looking dark brown that spread rapidly.
The giant hissed; sweat beaded on his forehead. Harry winced, that poison was definitely nasty and it seemed to be killing the giant at rapid pace, but for now he seemed to still be suffering.
Harry remembered Artie's lesson on a quick, clean, kill. One should never let a prey suffer. Angling his sword, he aimed between the exposed ribs of the giant and targeted the heart.
The giant didn't even have time to utter another scream, and sighed as he sunk to the ground, expired before he knew he was under a second attack.
Withdrawing his sword, Harry saw Thor grunt and literally break the giant's neck with his bare hands. The Frost Giant sighed and slumped in Thor's grip, before sliding to the ground.
Harry dropped his spell.
"My young friend, you come as if sent by the gods!" Thor boomed happily.
Harry gave a wry grin; he'd just killed someone. Even if that someone was a giant. "You didn't show and I was worried," he said, unhooking the hammer and holding it out. "I think that's yours."
Thor looked strangely as he accepted the implement, eying both it and Harry for a few moments, then smiled happily. "And now you re-arm me!" he boomed again. Two giants raced in from the unseen corridor. Thor immediately turned to face them, grinning happily, as if a fight with giant was precisely what he wanted and needed right now.
Harry stepped back, giving Thor space, but before the Norse God could act further, the ten giants from the barracks raced in from the corridor.
What was worse is that they weren't alone.
They were accompanied by the fast-moving, reanimated corpses from the burial chamber.
"Ack! Zombies!" Harry shouted, trying to master the stability of mind to cloak himself again.
"Draugr!" Thor shouted in correction, as he leveled his hammer and threw a bolt of lightning at one of the giant facing him. The giant was thrown back and did not move. "Be carefu-"
The draugr were dressed in the armor they had been buried with, wielding the weapons given to them as burial offerings, and swarmed through the room. Seeing Harry vanish, one of them seemed to draw a huge breath.
"Þrýsta!" it shouted, solidifying the very air and triggering wave of force that picked Harry up and threw him backward. He slammed against the wall, stars exploding before his eyes even as he fell to the ground.
Blinking, he tried to get his body functional again, feeling pain explode through his back and the back of his head. Carefully, he poked at the tender spot, only to come away with blood on his fingers. He staggered to his feet, just in time for the first two draugr to be almost upon him.
Bringing out his shield, he managed to duck behind the mythical metal protection, and summoned his sword back to his right hand.
"It's a draugr!" Thor shouted. "It can do a limited amount of magic!"
Harry really didn't want to know that part, and instead focused on hacking at one of the arms that came over his shield.
He hit nothing but air. Other arm! He felt the sword's presence say. The one on the right is the real one!
Great, he was apparently seeing double. He hacked at the right arm, and it came away without issue. The Draugr attached to it hissed, but smashed against the shield nonetheless.
"That is why I love the undead!" a voice crowed. "They don't stop when a random body part falls off!"
"You!" Thor shouted. "Release these men back to their rightful sleep!"
"Yeah… no," the voice said. Harry vision had solidified; he was seeing singles again, which was good. Growling, he smashed his two bracers together, triggering them to explode all their stored kinetic energy in one blast.
The draugr swarming at him were blown back, most losing their weapons, some even smashing hard against walls or the ceiling before falling to the ground.
"You take the giants, I'll take the zombies," Harry told Thor, who was grinning madly at the chaos Harry's attack had unleashed. Apparently, even giants could be pushed back if enough force was stored in his bracers.
"Draugr! And deal, my young friend!" Thor shouted, leveling his hammer at the mystery voice. A mystery voice belonging to a Frost Giant wearing some weird headdress and carrying a staff of some kind. "Release these men, Necromancer!"
Harry grunted, it was obvious that Necromancer wasn't going to listen. Instead, the young demigod charged at where a couple of draugr had started picking themselves up. "Fire!" he shouted out loud.
The poisonous, acidic blade burst into fire, and the sword's presence giggled madly – as if this were the best day of its life. The enchanted blade was swept in a horizontal strike, decapitating the first draugr, before being plunged deeply into the chest of the second one.
The reanimated corse burst into fire, emitting a horrid screech. Harry pulled the blade out sideways, shattering it. Zombies, Draugr, whatever they were called, those he could handle.
Thor, meanwhile, ignored the dozen or some giants and threw a bolt of lightning at the Necromancer, who laughed crazily, and conjured some kind of magical shield, deflecting the bolt.
Straight at Harry.
Who had one draugr pinned to the wall with the edge of his shield and was about to remove its head with his sword, and therefore was quite distracted. Feeling his instincts warn him, Harry reacted faster than thought.
Bringing up his sword, he attempted to bat the lightning away.
Instead, it felt as if he were trying to hit a bowling ball with a baseball bat, and he yelped with pain.
The lightning broke and vanished.
"Sorry," Thor apologized contritely. "I didn't know he could do that!"
Harry panted. Ouch, Godslayer indicated. Oh. And yum.
The demigod stared at his blade. "Lightning?" he asked.
Don't mind if I do! The sword shouted like a madman – madsword. Suddenly, the burning blade was engulfed in a cloud of white energy.
Harry shrugged and chopped the struggling draugr's head off. "Huh, that was easy. Like cutting soft butter."
The sword giggled more.
A draugr leaped up, and Harry slashed at him. He had expected to injure the creature; instead, he bisected it.
Plasma! The sword's presence giggled. I'm a plasma sword now! Take THAT, Excalibur!
Ignoring the crack at the most famous sword of all times, Harry turned to face the others.
"Þrýsta!"
"Not this time," Harry grunted, bracing himself and hiding behind his shield. The energy discharge hit his divine protection, and he could feel it push him back. However, it did not manage to pick him up and throw him at the wall.
Dropping his shield, Harry hefted the sword. Throwing blade, he indicated, feeling the sword shift size and shape. The draugr that had dared use that pushing/throwing magic found itself returned to its eternal rest with a plasma-based throwing blade stuck in its forehead.
Opening his hand, Harry summoned the sword back, and immediately threw it at another draugr.
The Necromancer was scowling at seeing Harry deal with his undead, and lifted a hand. "Oh no, you don't!" Thor shouted, actually throwing his hammer in its entirety at the Frost Giant, clobbering him over the head, before recalling it. The Necromancer went down, screaming and clutching his nose, but the danger to Harry had been neutralized for now.
There were only a handful of draugr left now, and Harry turned his sword back into a regular one-handed sword. Finally, he had some time to think.
I shall move first, and decapitate the first one on the right. Take two steps to the left, one step forward, and decapitate number two. Number three will have raised his weapon, block using shield and perform a lunge-strike at the throat of number four. Return and decapitate number three. Number five will approach from the far left, raise shield to block strike and stab through the heart. Then rip sideways.
Harry stepped forward, decapitated the first draugr, move left-forward-left and decapitated the second draugr before its reanimated brains could determine what was happening, then raised his shield to block a strike coming from draugr number three. He lunged for the throat of number four using his sword, then pushed it sideways, going for a half-decapitation, before returning and smiting the head of draugr number three. He raised and leveled his shield to block the strike of the fifth and last draugr, and stabbed under it, going for the creature's heart. Then he ripped sideways.
The plasma blade cut through the ribcage like a hot knife through butter. The draugr screamed. Briefly. Then toppled, dead once more. All in all, it had taken him maybe ten seconds to kill those last five draugr.
"That's impossible!" the Necromancer shouted.
"Throwing knife," Harry asked.
Throwing knife, the Godslayer replied, shifting into the requested form. Harry's hand blurred and threw the knife.
The Necromancer grabbed for it, and managed to catch it. Unfortunately for him, he did so by managing to catch the blade, which was still enveloped in a super-heated plasma that cut right through his fingers and burned deep into his palm.
The stench of scorched flesh filled the room, followed by the cries of the Necromancer. Harry held out his hand, the blade returning to it.
"Kill them!" the Frost Giant Sorcerer demanded angrily and nasally, his nose still broken from where Thor had hit him with his hammer. Clutching his damaged hand, the enemy sorcerer swiftly turned around and disappeared down the unseen corridor.
He left behind several fingers. Harry felt his stomach do a flip-flop at the sight of them. Trying to take his mind off the severed digits, he looked at Thor.
The Norse God of Thunder was surrounded by Frost Giants, and smashed one over the head with a lightning-infused strike. Four others apparently decided that fighting the god fairly was useless and dog piled him; jumping on the god in an attempt to bear him to the ground.
Harry took a step, his eyes opening wide at the sight. Suddenly, Thor howled, and a blast of lightning exploded out from him, throwing his four grapplers – as well as the three other remaining Frost Giants – away.
Harry grinned; Thor had something like Hephaestus' bracers!
Immediately, three of them regained their footing and charged, Thor turning to meet them head-on with a cheerful grin on his face. The god actually looked like he was having a blast!
One giant slowly crawled to his feet, and attempted to blind-side his friend. Harry screamed and started running.
"Behind you!" he yelled, Thor immediately dodging sideways, making the sneaky giant miss.
Unfortunately, by yelling, he had drawn attention to himself. Some of the giants turned to face him, and one of them actually came his way.
The giant in question roared and tried to hit him with his club; Harry raised his sword, and jinked one way. Using his shield as a guide, he forced the club off course, jinked again and slashed at the giant's ankle.
The sword on its own was preternaturally sharp. At this precise moment in time, it was infused with acid, two different types of venom, and enveloped in superheated plasma as fire and lightning combined.
Harry felt as if he had just carved through a piece of cardboard. The giant stopped roaring and looked down in confusion, where his ankle suddenly terminated in a blunt stump; his foot remaining where it had been.
The entire room froze, giant and god and mortal alike staring at the scene. The giant made a curious sort of 'huh' noise, right before the pain hit.
Screaming, the massive being instinctively put the stump on the floor, as if trying to balance on two feet; of course this only made things worse for him, and he toppled completely.
Two giants raced at their fallen comrade, either to help him or squash Harry, he wasn't sure which. Thor engaged his four opponents again, and Harry swallowed. Maiming an enemy wasn't a good thing, especially since it made that enemy's friends angry.
Backpedaling furiously in an attempt to put space between him and the two enraged giants, Harry's back hit the wall of the cavern wall. The first on storming giant leaned down next to his screaming friend, the other charged Harry.
For a moment, the demigod imagined angry steam coming from the giant's nose as it bellowed like an angry bull on steroids. Raising his shield and sword, Harry tried to figure a way out in the half-a-second-or-so that he had before the enemy was upon him.
The giant's club came down and Harry had visions of himself turned to vivid red paste if he tried to block that strike. He attempted to jink out of the way, but the giant was apparently smart enough to have seen the fate of its companion and turned the downward strike into a sweeping motion.
"Eep!" Harry managed, letting himself fall flat on his face and actually feeling the drag of the air as the strike passed over his back. The giant roared again, and suddenly he just knew that he had to roll, and roll quickly.
So roll he did; just in time apparently as he heard, rather than saw, the Frost Giant stomp angrily on the spot he had just been lying on.
Holy Hestia, they really were going to kill him.
He rolled to his feet, thankful to every god and Hunter's Lieutenant who had ever taught him to fight, and started sprinting. As he did so, he surveyed his other opponents. The maimed giant was still on the floor, howling as his hands clutched his leg right above where Harry had amputated his foot; the second was still kneeling by his side in an attempt to help him. For now, those two were out of the action; the one giant determined to rip him to shreds was the only one still dangerous to him.
Unfortunately for him, that particular Frost Giant had long legs and therefore didn't need to sprint.
One giant foot landed right next to him, the very displacement of the air enough to blow Harry aside. He landed painfully, yet rolled to his feet instantly, raising sword and shield again.
The Frost Giant's eyes were glowing, and in that moment, Harry had never seen anything more dangerous. Not the Hydra. Not the Chimera. Not that human who had tried to take Annabeth and do things to her.
The giant made another sweeping strike with his club; Harry ducked, and rolled underneath it. He sprung to his feet, and tried to strike at the giant's ankle. Unfortunately for Harry, that giant had seen what had happened when Harry struck at feet, and nimbly – for such a huge being – jumped out of the way. The ground shook at he landed.
Demigod and Frost Giant stared at each other, one with fear, the other with pure rage and hatred. And suddenly, Harry had an idea.
Spear, Harry asked his sword.
Spear, the sword confirmed and shifted.
With a metal-tipped spear in his hand, Harry shifted his grip into a throwing stance. The giant bellowed, and took a step to bring himself close enough to strike.
Harry threw his spear; his focus was too shattered to do any real combat magic, but he threw enough Shen energy at the impetus of 'hit between the eyes' that it didn't really matter at this point.
The plasma-spear hit the giant right between the eyes. And carved right through the giant's head, its tip actually emerging from the other side.
The giant didn't make a noise. One moment, he was charging, the next moment he was crumbling like a rag doll. The ground shook again.
Harry held open his hand, his weapon reappearing as a one-handed sword. The maimed giant was quiet now, apparently having slipped into the Frost Giant's equivalent of shock. His friend glared at Harry, and stood.
Having seen an angry giant on the warpath, Harry wasn't about to give this one a chance to get to its feet and start rampaging after him. Instead, he charged, fear and adrenaline making his scream as he did so.
The giant, not having expected Harry to simply charge straight at him, looked surprised for a moment. That moment was all Harry needed as he hurled his sword at the giant's chest.
The weapon struck, and the giant stared dumbly at it. He raised one colossal hand, and poked the comparatively tiny handle with one finger. It made a sound that probably translated as ow in English, then stared dumbly at Harry.
He poked the sword in his chest again, as hissing noises and smoke emerged from the wound, and an ugly, sickly brown spot started spreading out from the area of impact.
The giant sunk to his knees, suddenly looking really sick. Harry called the weapon back, and the ugly liquid of the giant's blood poured from the open wound. Futilely, the giant tried to stem the flow with his hand, to no avail.
It tumbled sideways and did not move.
Harry approached the maimed giant cautiously; he was quiet, for now, and hardly moved. Painful keening noises emerged from him every now and again, showing he wasn't completely dead just yet.
The giant's blue skin was taken a sickly pallor, and the stump was now black and brown, stinking fluids leaking from the cauterized area. Obviously, even in its plasma state, the Godslayer would poison wounds.
The sword's presence smugly told him that of course it would.
"Longsword," he told the sword aloud, shifting his hands to hold the elongated bladed weapon. He was going to give his enemy an honorable death, rather than let him die from poison, and stabbed the longsword through the ailing giant's temple.
There was a death rattle, and then the giant no longer moved.
Harry pulled the sword out and changed it back to a single-handed weapon. For just a few moments, he stared at the three giant he had just killed. Including the one he had killed earlier, that was four giants he had killed.
Four beings. He didn't know if these were the Norse equivalent of 'monsters' – who would simply die and revive after some time in the underworld – or if these were mortal beings like humans and demigods were. He hoped they were monsters, not mortals.
As he stood there, he made the one mistake one should never ever make on the battlefield.
He dropped his guard.
The next moment, he was sailing through the air, his entire body exploded in pain. When he hit the wall, he heard a bunch of snapping and crunching noises, before a completely new array of pain exploded through him. He saw stars, colors, images, shapes, becoming only aware that he had hit the ground when he blinked and noticed he was staring at it.
He grunted in pain as he rolled; his entire body hurt, his left arm looked like it was bending in a way that was patently unhealthy; it had also seemingly grown a second elbow. His chest was one big area of pain, showing he had broken ribs.
The giant that had struck him roared again, lifted his club two-handedly, and prepared to pulp Harry.
The next moments, the giant's head vanished as a super-powered bolt of lightning vaporized it.
"Well, that was an exhilarating workout!" Thor cheered, done with his own set of opponents, before noticing Harry's crumpled form on the floor. "And you, my young friend, more than held up your side!" he said, kneeling down.
Harry managed a wan smile. "Hurts," he breathed.
Thor nodded. "That was some strike you took," he confirmed, before placing one finger on Harry's back. "Here, let's see what I can do."
The pain ebbed. "Oh, that feels good," Harry breathed.
"I'm just hiding the pain," Thor replied. "I'm a warrior. I break things. Putting them back together is my mother's area of expertise, so hiding the pain is the best I can do."
Painfully, Harry dragged himself to his feet. The pain was bad, but not unmanageable. His broken left arm, still looking like it had two elbows, wouldn't move. He was sure his left ankle and left knee were heavily sprained, if not broken. While he was able to breathe with broken ribs, it was like liquid agony, even with Thor's trick, and he therefore resolved to breathe shallowly.
"Did we get them all?" he asked.
Thor burst out laughing. "You stand there, broken, and are worried about the mission?" he asked, still laughing. "Ah, to be part of one of your tales!"
He sobered slightly, then said, "The Necromancer escaped. Which is too bad, he was who I was here for." The god's face twisted slightly. "Disturbing the rest of fallen warriors, how dare he."
Harry didn't know what to do or say. He didn't want to go chase after that Necromancer right now; simply didn't feel up to it.
"Come," Thor said. "Let's see if we can find out more."
Harry managed a nod, despite wanting to go home and fall into bed. Now that the adrenaline had faded, all he felt was tired. And agony. He felt that, too.
Thor confidently went down the unseen corridor. Harry shuffled after him, grimacing painfully, but not wanting to be a bother to his friend. Thor stopped after a few paces, and looked at the young demigod.
"You seem more hurt than you are willing to let on," he stated.
"It's not that bad," Harry said stubbornly, not wanting to look bad.
"Not that bad, he says," Thor replied, more to himself than to Harry. "He can barely walk, and it's not that bad, he says." The Norse God stopped in front of Harry, studying him. "Your arm looks like it has two elbows, but it's not that bad, you say," he said, this time to Harry, who had the good grace to look slightly sheepish.
"Come, let me help," the god finished. He leaned down and picked the young demigod up. Reflexively, Harry dismissed his shield and sword. Especially the sword, it was extremely, exceedingly, dangerous now.
The moment his weight left his injured leg, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, being picked up jarred his ribs, so now he froze up as pain exploded through his chest.
"Stands up with broken ribs and says it's not that bad," Thor grumbled to himself as he paced through the hallway; somehow the large god was able to move with liquid grace, in a sort of flowing movement that produced momentum without jarring Harry's ribs.
With the pain lessening, Harry sighed against Thor's chest, cradled in just the large left arm of the big god. He felt silly and childish, being carried like that, but he felt safe and free from pain nonetheless.
"Sorry for the trouble," he whispered.
Thor boomed a laugh, somehow able to do so without disturbing Harry's ribs despite the demigod now being firmly resting against the big god's chest.
"You came to my rescue, young friend. You did so before my people even realized I was missing! And, in the end, you freed me, fought at my side, and more than held your own." Thor stopped, and looked down at Harry with a serious expression on his face. "Harry, it is I who should apologize to you for the trouble."
Harry managed to shake his head. "You're my friend and you needed help," he reflected.
"Indeed," Thor said with a grin, as if he had just won an argument. Harry took a moment to realize what Thor was saying.
He smiled widely at the feeling. Because he was a friend who needed help now, too. Feeling inexplicably happy that the bulky God of Thunder considered him a friend, he fell silent as Thor strode down the hallway.
At the end of said hall was a door, one of those medieval-style doors made of wood with metal supports and a huge handle. Thor tried it; the door was locked.
"Locked, of course," he said.
"Of course," Harry commented, pain making him a bit loopy. "Because heaven forbid a bad guy would make this easy for us."
Thor boomed another laugh, and hefted his hammer. A bolt of lightning vaporized the door. Harry felt oddly tingly from being carried by Thor as he conjured lightning.
"Ack!" the Necromancer shouted. "Where are the others!?" he demanded, pointing angrily with his off-hand. His right hand, Harry noted, was wrapped tightly.
"Dead," Thor noted calmly. "As you soon will be, Necromancer!"
"You don't look too good," Harry said, noting the pallor of the Frost Giant, and the sweat that beaded on his forehead.
"It's that blasted wound! It's already infected!" the Necromancer said, waving his injured right hand around.
"My blade is poisonous," Harry said.
The Necromancer stared balefully at the demigod, then lifted his free arm.
"Oops, my turn," Thor said, gently yet urgently putting Harry on the floor.
The demigod winced as the movement jarred his leg, his arm, his ribs, and every bruise and cut on his body. He wished that Hestia's boon went beyond curing minor wounds, because he definitely needed healing right about now.
Thor threw more lightning at the Necromancer, who once again deflected it; luckily this time he deflected it in some other direction than Harry's, because he definitely wasn't up to dodging right about now.
As the sickly Necromancer and the God of Thunder fought, Harry brought out his sword again.
Acid, poison, fire, lightning, Harry asked. The sword's presence giggled insanely, and suddenly the blade was once again engulfed in a glowing white plasma.
He waited, and studied the fight. The Necromancer, despite missing fingers, broken nose, and poisoned blood, seemed to be capable of holding off Thor.
Or perhaps, Thor was holding back out of fear from either hitting Harry, or bringing the entire cave down.
Harry shuffled a bit. Javelin, he asked.
The sword giggled again. Javelin, it confirmed and shifted.
Harry was in no position to throw physically, but his magic was definitely up for the task. Focusing his mind on exactly what he wanted, he gave the javelin a little throw. It was the best he could manage and amounted to little more than a gentle shove, but he'd thrown enough Shen at the problem to make that inconsequential.
The Necromancer threw a left hand, covered with some kind of shield, and deflected Thor's strike with his hammer. The next moment, he looked surprised.
It was the last thing he ever did, as a javelin suddenly entered his temple, going in far enough to part of it went out the other side.
Thor stared for a moment, then laughed. "I need to bring you on my other giant hunts!" he said. "Good shot, my young friend!"
Harry grimaced, despite wanting to grin. He sunk to the floor; that last bit of Shen had been overdoing it, it seemed. He coughed; blood stained his lips.
"Harry!" Thor shouted, suddenly at his side. "I should never have brought you after the Necromancer, I should have returned you to Asgard," he lamented. "Come, we shall leave immediately."
As Harry was lifted onto Thor's arm once more, he coughed again. "Sorry," he whispered, seeing the blood on the god's clothes.
"Hah! That's nothing those clothes haven't seen before," he tried to cheer the demigod up.
As they turned and left, Harry splayed out his hand, recalling his weapon, before quickly returning it to its hidden form.
Thor was quick and efficient, and with the giants slain, the trip to the surface was short and quick. A few minutes later, they were already over the ocean, flying in Thor's chariot. There was a muffled crack.
"Hypersonic," the god told Harry, who was now more out of it than in on it. "We'll be in Boston soon."
Harry managed to look inquisitive. "I don't dare take you through the Bifrost in your current state, and Boston is the closest entrance to Asgard from here," Thor explained to Harry. "We'll be there in minutes at this speed. Don't worry, my stepmother Frigga is one of the finest healers in the nine realms."
Harry managed a nod, then coughed and let the darkness take him.