Free Day of the Vikings. A Thriller. (ARKANE) by J.F. Penn Page B

air, chanting in a voice that grated against something in Morgan’s very soul.
    “ Snýsk jörmungandr í jötunmóði, ” the Valkyrie called into the spinning vortex that materialized around her. “In giant-wrath does the serpent writhe.”
    With those words, she pointed the staff at the kneeling clergyman. The Neo-Viking behind him pulled the man’s head back and sliced his throat with a heavy knife. Arterial blood sprayed into the whirling tornado around the Valkyrie, the droplets whipped into the spiraling air until it was as if she stood within a wall of blood that the rain could no longer penetrate. The Eye of Odin glowed in her hand, its light illuminating her face, a prophet of long-dead gods.  
    The Valkyrie turned to face the vast expanse of the Atlantic.
    “ Ormr knýr unnir, en ari hlakkar, slítr nái niðfölr .” Her voice was a shriek now, rising above the rumble of thunder that echoed around the bay. “Over the waves he twists, and the tawny eagle gnaws corpses screaming.”
    She stretched out the staff and held the Eye of Odin close to it. Through the veil of blood, the golden light from the stone looked like a ray of the sun as it shot out into the boiling sea below. It seemed to carve a path in the water, some kind of bioluminescence revealing the depths below.  
    One of the Neo-Vikings lifted a great curved horn to his lips and blew it, the deep sound a sonorous vibration that shook the rocks they stood upon. The other two Neo-Vikings dropped to their knees, as the waters boiled and in the distance, Morgan thought she saw coils of some great creature arching from the deep. The legends of Ragnarok told of Jörmungandr , the Midgard serpent that encircles the earth holding his tail in his mouth until the day he lets go and the world ends.
    Morgan tried to focus on what she thought she had seen, but between flashes of lightning, it could have been nothing more than waves. The Neo-Vikings were transfixed by the sight of the golden ray, and she knew she needed to finish this. She pulled the gun from her pack. The power of this staff, the Eye of Odin … It all needed to end here.  
    The Valkyrie stood with arms pointed toward the deep, the wall of spinning blood around her, and it seemed to Morgan that she began to lift from the rock to hang in the air. The ravens flew faster around the top of the vortex, a dark host crowing the victory of those who worshipped the ancient gods, calling for their return.  
    Aiming for the Valkyrie’s back, Morgan fired once, twice, but the bullets ricocheted off the vortex, one hitting a Neo-Viking in the eye on rebound. He slumped to the ground without a sound, but the other two men jumped to their feet, roaring with anger. The Valkyrie turned her head at the noise and her hands faltered, the light from the staff and the Eye wobbling in the water. She refocused, chanting louder with darker words, her eyes rolling back in her head as she floated upward. The boiling in the ocean seemed to double in intensity and lightning strikes hit the waters with a hiss, the clouds above whirling in a tornado. Something was coming, something from the other side.
    Morgan left her hiding place, leaping across the rocks sideways to the Valkyrie. One of the men moved to shield his mistress and the other pursued. Morgan turned and shot again. A double tap and the man went down, his bulk falling between the rocks.  
    Only one man stood between her and the witch now. Holding the gun out, Morgan stepped across the rocks, hyper-alert as the man held his arms wide, inviting her to him. She aimed at his mid-section, finger squeezing the trigger. The moment she fired, a sharp tug on her ankle pulled her down and pain exploded as Morgan’s knee cracked on the sharp rocks. The man she had shot first reached up to grab her, his face a mess of blood where his head had hit the rocks, the chest wound bleeding but not fatal. Losing her grip, the gun went clattering down the side of the rocks.