20. Blood of A Wolf God: Eryx

CHAPTER 20

BLOOD OF A WOLF GOD

ERYX

T he journey back to Asgard was a blur of golden light and the disorienting sensation of reality bending around them. Eryx had never quite gotten used to divine travel, and he doubted he ever would. It always left him feeling like he'd been turned inside out, run through a cosmic washing machine, and then reassembled by a toddler with questionable spatial awareness skills.

But discomfort be damned, they had more pressing concerns. Namely, the unconscious teenager cradled in Alex's arms, looking far too small and vulnerable for someone who'd just gone toe-to-toe with a goddess of death.

As soon as their feet touched Asgardian soil, Eryx was moving. "This way," he said, gesturing for Alex to follow. "We need to get Zac somewhere safe, somewhere he can rest."

They made their way through the winding corridors of the palace, the opulence of their surroundings a stark contrast to the battered, blood-stained state of their little group. Eryx caught more than a few startled looks from passing Asgardians, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Let them stare. They had no idea what had just gone down, what they'd all been through.

Finally, they reached the chambers that had been assigned to Zac. Eryx pushed open the door, revealing a room that would have made his teenage self weep with envy. All gold and rich fabrics, with a bed big enough to host a small army.

Alex gently laid Zac down on the bed, his usual gruff demeanor softened by concern. "He gonna be okay?" he asked, his voice low and tense.

Eryx nodded, already summoning his healing magic. Golden light spilled from his palms as he ran his hands over Zac's prone form, assessing the damage. "He will be," Eryx said, relief coloring his tone. "He's exhausted, and there's some residual magical trauma, but nothing permanent. He just needs rest. And probably a metric ton of comfort food when he wakes up."

Alex snorted, but Eryx could see some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Kid's got expensive taste. It'll be lobster and caviar or nothing, mark my words."

Eryx couldn't help but smile at that. Trust Alex to deflect genuine emotion with sarcasm. But that was okay. Eryx spoke fluent Alex-ese by now, and he knew that beneath the snark was a well of concern deep enough to drown in.

"Go on," Eryx said, making shooing motions with his hands. "I know you're itching to debrief with the others. I'll stay here and finish healing him."

Alex hesitated, clearly torn between his duty as a leader and his desire to stay with Zac. Eryx felt a surge of affection for his grumpy, complicated partner. "I've got this," he assured him. "I promise I'll come find you as soon as I'm done."

With a reluctant nod, Alex turned to leave. But at the last moment, he paused, looking back at Eryx with an expression that made Eryx's heart skip a beat. "You did good out there, sunshine," Alex said, his voice gruff but sincere. "Real good."

Before Eryx could respond, Alex was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Eryx stood there for a moment, a stupid grin spreading across his face despite the gravity of their situation .

Focus, Apollo's voice whispered in his mind, tinged with amusement. The boy needs your attention now.

Right. Zac. Healing. Eryx shook himself, turning back to the task at hand. He poured more energy into the healing spell, watching as the golden light sank into Zac's skin, mending the invisible wounds left by his merge with Absalom.

As he worked, Eryx couldn't help but marvel at the kid lying before him. Zac had come so far from the scared, angry teenager they'd first encountered. He'd faced down a goddess of death, tapped into power that should have been beyond his comprehension. And he'd done it all to protect them, to save a world that had rarely shown him kindness.

"You're something else, you know that?" Eryx murmured, smoothing Zac's hair back from his forehead. "Rest up, kiddo. Something tells me we're going to need you at full strength for whatever comes next."

With one final pulse of healing energy, Eryx stepped back. He'd done all he could. The rest was up to Zac and time.

Giving the sleeping teenager one last fond look, Eryx turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He had a war room to get to, and knowing Alex, a whole host of divine drama to navigate.

The walk to the war room gave Eryx time to collect his thoughts, to try and process everything that had happened. It also gave him time to appreciate just how much his body hurt. Apparently, going toe-to-toe with a goddess of death was not great for one's physical well-being. Who knew?

You pushed yourself hard, Apollo observed, his presence a warm glow in the back of Eryx's mind. Perhaps too hard.

Eryx snorted, wincing as the motion sent a twinge of pain through his ribs. "Yeah, well, it was that or become Hel's new chew toy. I'll take the aches and pains, thanks."

He could feel Apollo's amusement, tinged with something like pride. You continue to surprise me, young one. Your strength, your determination... you are more than worthy of our partnership .

The praise sent a warm glow through Eryx, chasing away some of the bone-deep weariness. It wasn't often that Apollo was so openly complimentary. Usually, the god preferred to communicate in cryptic metaphors and vague prophecies. This directness was... nice.

"Thanks," Eryx murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Couldn't have done it without you, you know. We make a pretty good team."

Apollo's presence pulsed with agreement, and then faded to its usual background hum. Eryx took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and pushed open the doors to the war room.

The scene that greeted him was well, tense would be putting it mildly. Alex stood with his arms crossed, glowering at everyone in that special way that only a former god of the underworld could manage. Thor paced back and forth, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. Brynhildr stood ramrod straight, her face a mask of stoic determination that didn't quite hide the worry in her eyes.

And then there was Fenrir. The wolf-turned-man sat in a chair that looked comically small for his massive frame, fidgeting with the elaborate Asgardian clothing he'd been given. He looked about as comfortable as a cat at a dog show, which, given the circumstances, was probably an apt comparison.

Alex's head snapped up as Eryx entered, his scowl softening almost imperceptibly. "How's the kid?" he asked, his tone gruff but unable to hide the concern underneath.

Eryx felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. If Alex was asking about Zac first thing, then nothing catastrophic had happened in the few minutes he'd been gone. Small mercies.

"He's going to be fine," Eryx said, moving to stand beside Alex. He didn't miss the way his partner shifted slightly, positioning himself between Eryx and the others in a subtle protective gesture. "I used some healing magic to speed things along. He just needs rest now. "

Alex nodded, some of the tightness around his eyes easing. "Good. That's... good."

Eryx allowed himself a moment to really look at Alex, to take in the lines of exhaustion etched into his face, the way he held himself like every movement hurt. He wanted nothing more than to drag Alex off to bed, to curl up together and sleep for about a week. But they didn't have that luxury. Not with the fate of multiple realms hanging in the balance.

Instead, Eryx turned his attention to the room at large, taking in the tense atmosphere. Something was off, beyond the obvious "we just barely survived a throwdown with a goddess of death" vibe.

"Alright," he said, crossing his arms and adopting what Zac liked to call his 'stern dad' voice. "What did I miss? And where's Freya? Shouldn't she be here for this?"

The reaction to his question was immediate and alarming. Thor's pacing came to an abrupt halt, Brynhildr's stoic mask cracked to reveal a flash of guilt, and even Fenrir looked up, his green eyes sharp with interest.

It was Alex who answered, his voice low and tense. "That's the million-dollar question, sunshine. We know Loki's been impersonating her, but no one seems to know where the real Freya is."

Eryx felt his brow furrow. They'd known about Loki's deception, sure, but the implication that Freya herself was missing? That was new. "Wait, what? How long has she been gone?"

Brynhildr spoke up, her voice tight with barely contained frustration. "We're not certain. Given how long Loki's deception went undetected it could have been months. Maybe even longer."

Well, shit. That was a whole new level of complications they didn't need. Eryx ran a hand through his hair, mind racing. "Okay, so we know Loki's been pretending to be Freya, giving false orders. But we have no idea where the real Freya is or what's happened to her? "

The silence that followed was heavy, loaded with unspoken concerns and half-formed theories. It was Fenrir who finally broke it, his deep voice rumbling through the room like distant thunder.

"Well, fuck," Alex summed up eloquently, running a hand through his hair. "So we're back to square one, with the added bonus of a pissed-off death goddess gunning for us. Fantastic."

Eryx reached out, squeezing Alex's arm in a gesture of silent support. "Not square one," he said, trying to inject some optimism into his voice. "We know more now than we did before. We know Loki's involved, we know Hel's working with him. And we've got Fenrir on our side."

He turned to the wolf-god, meeting those eerily intelligent green eyes. "You are on our side, right?" he asked, not unkindly. "I mean, no offense, but you did try to eat us not too long ago."

Fenrir's laugh was a low, rumbling thing that seemed to vibrate the very air around them. "Fair question, little sun-speaker. I bear no love for Odin or his kin." He shot a pointed look at Thor, who bristled visibly. "But Loki and Hel's plans they go too far. They would unmake everything, including the very concept of freedom I've yearned for all these centuries. So yes, for now at least, I am on your side."

It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but Eryx would take it. They needed all the allies they could get in this fight. And hey, if said ally happened to be a giant wolf-god with daddy issues and a penchant for world-ending prophecies, well... beggars couldn't be choosers, right?

Eryx's mind wandered back to their original plan. They had freed Fenrir for a reason, after all. "So," he said, trying to keep his voice casual, "I guess it's time for the main event, huh? The whole blood ritual thing?"

Alex nodded, his expression a mix of resignation and determination. "Yeah, time to get this show on the road."

Fenrir's eyes narrowed at the nickname, but he didn't rise to the bait. "I gave my word," he said, his voice a low rumble. "My blood is yours to use. But know this – if you betray me, if this is some trick to bind me anew, there will be nowhere in all the realms you can hide from my wrath."

Thor, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up to this point, suddenly straightened. "We'll need one of the sacred vials," he said, his voice carrying that particular tone of divine pronouncement that always made Eryx's teeth ache. "Imbued with my father's power, it's the only thing that can safely contain the essence of a god."

Without waiting for a response, Thor turned to one of the ever-present Asgardian servants hovering at the edges of the room. "Bring us the Vial of Essence," he commanded. "And be swift about it."

As the servant scurried off, Eryx found himself marveling at the sheer... Asgardian-ness of it all. Of course they had special magic vials just lying around. Why wouldn't they? It was probably right next to the drawer of world-tree leaves and the cabinet of mystical mead or whatever.

Their ways are not our ways, Apollo observed, a hint of amusement coloring his mental voice. But do not dismiss their methods. The Aesir have endured for eons for good reason.

Eryx sent back a mental nod of acknowledgment. Apollo had a point, as usual. Just because their methods seemed overly dramatic and needlessly complicated didn't mean they weren't effective.

The servant returned in record time, bearing a small, ornate box with the kind of reverence usually reserved for holy relics or really expensive wine. Thor took it with a nod of thanks, then turned to the large table dominating the center of the room.

With a gesture that was probably supposed to be dramatic but just looked kind of silly to Eryx's jaded eyes, Thor placed the box in the center of the table. The effect was immediate and, Eryx had to admit, pretty impressive.

The table's surface began to ripple like water, intricate patterns of light and shadow dancing across its surface. The wood—if it even was wood—seemed to flow and reshape itself, forming a perfect cradle for the box. When Thor opened it and placed the vial on the table, the transformation intensified.

Glowing lines of power radiated outward from the vial, forming a complex web of magical energy that pulsed with a rhythm that reminded Eryx uncomfortably of a heartbeat. The air around the table grew thick and heavy, charged with the kind of power that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Thor's chest puffed up with pride, because of course it did. "The table is imbued with my father's power," he explained, his voice carrying that particular mix of reverence and smugness that only the Aesir seemed able to pull off. "It serves to protect and empower the vial, preparing it to receive the essence of a god."

Eryx nodded, trying to look appropriately impressed while internally rolling his eyes. How convenient that they just happened to have a magic table perfectly designed for collecting god blood. Sometimes he wondered if the Aesir did this stuff on purpose, just to mess with everyone else.

Fenrir stood, his movements fluid despite the obvious discomfort of his human form. As he approached the table, his body seemed to ripple and shift, caught between man and wolf in a way that made Eryx's eyes water if he looked too closely.

Without ceremony or hesitation, Fenrir raised one hand—paw?—to his mouth. Wicked claws extended from his fingertips, gleaming in the ethereal light emanating from the table. With a swift, brutal motion, he slashed across his palm.

Blood welled up immediately, dark and thick in a way that no mortal blood could ever be. It carried a scent that made Eryx's nose burn—ozone and wild forests and something ancient beyond reckoning.

As the first drop fell towards the vial, the air in the room seemed to hold its breath. The moment it touched the glass, a pulse of energy radiated outward, strong enough to make Eryx stagger back a step. The vial began to glow, a sickly green light that pulsed in time with Fenrir's heartbeat.

Drop by drop, the vial filled. With each addition, the magical web surrounding it grew more complex, layers upon layers of power weaving themselves into a tapestry of divine intent. Eryx found himself mesmerized by the display, unable to look away even as his magical senses screamed at him that this was dangerous, that he was witnessing something mortals were never meant to see.

Eryx blinked, sucking in a sharp breath as he came back to himself. He glanced around, relieved to see that he wasn't the only one affected. Alex's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes slightly unfocused in that way Eryx knew meant he was wrestling with his own divine nature. Even Thor and Brynhildr looked uneasy, shifting from foot to foot like kids who really needed to pee but were too scared to ask to be excused.

Just when Eryx thought he couldn't take any more, that the sheer weight of divine power in the room would crush him flat, it stopped. The vial gave one final pulse of light, then sealed itself with a sound like a thunderclap.

Fenrir lowered his hand, the wound already knitting itself closed. He looked diminished somehow, as if the act of giving his blood had taken more out of him than just the physical essence.

"It is done," he said, his voice rough and tired. "The vial contains enough of my blood to fuel your tracking ritual. Use it wisely. I do not think I could produce another if this fails."

The weight of those words settled over the room like a heavy blanket. Eryx felt the pressure of their situation acutely, the realization that this tiny vial of divine blood might be their only shot at finding Loki and stopping his plans. No pressure or anything, right?

Alex, ever the practical one, cut through the tension with his usual bluntness. "Great. So what happens now? We shake the vial and wish really hard for Loki to appear?"

Thor shot Alex a look that was equal parts annoyance and amusement. Without a word, he strode to the table and carefully lifted the vial, cradling it in his massive hands as if it were the most precious thing in all the Nine Realms. Which, Eryx supposed, it kind of was at the moment.

"Follow me," Thor commanded, already moving towards the door with that purposeful stride that seemed to be the default setting for Norse gods.

Eryx exchanged a quick glance with Alex, saw his own mix of curiosity and apprehension mirrored in his partner's eyes. With a shrug that said 'what the hell, we've come this far,' they fell into step behind Thor, Fenrir and Brynhildr bringing up the rear.

Their journey through Asgard's palace was a blur of gold and grandeur that Eryx was pretty sure he'd never get used to. They climbed what felt like a million stairs, each step taking them higher into the rarified air of divine realms. By the time they reached their destination, even Eryx's divinely enhanced stamina was feeling the burn.

"Okay," he panted, trying not to sound as winded as he felt, "please tell me we're here. Because if there's another flight of stairs, I vote we just push Loki off them when we find him and call it a day."

Thor's lips twitched in what might have been a smile on a less stoic face. "We have arrived," he announced, gesturing to an ornate door that seemed to shimmer and shift as Eryx looked at it. "Behold, the Chamber of Sight."

With a wave of his hand, Thor opened the door, revealing a room that defied Eryx's expectations. Unlike the opulent halls they'd passed through, this chamber was stark and simple. The walls were covered in intricate runes that pulsed with a soft, ethereal light. And there, in the center of the room...

"Is that a well?" Alex asked, voicing the question Eryx was thinking. "Please tell me we didn't climb all those stairs for a fancy birdbath."

Thor ignored the jab, moving reverently towards the structure. As they drew closer, Eryx realized it wasn't just any well. The basin was crafted from what looked like solid gold, its surface etched with runes so fine and complex they made his eyes water if he tried to focus on them too long.

But it was the water—if you could call it that—that really caught Eryx's attention. The liquid in the well swirled and shifted, sometimes appearing a deep, vibrant green, other times shimmering with flecks of gold. It moved with a life of its own, as if responding to their presence.

Careful, Apollo's voice whispered in his mind. This is old magic, older perhaps than even the Aesir themselves. Do not underestimate its power or its dangers.

Eryx sent back a mental nod of acknowledgment, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the mesmerizing liquid. "What is this place?" he asked, his voice hushed with a mix of awe and trepidation.

Thor's expression was solemn as he regarded the well. "This is the Well of Sight," he explained, his voice carrying the weight of eons. "It is sentient, in its way. It sees our purpose, our intent, and shows us what we need to see—if we are worthy."

"Well, that's not ominous at all," Alex muttered, but Eryx could hear the tension underneath the sarcasm. They were all on edge, the weight of what they were about to do pressing down on them.

Without further preamble, Thor unstoppered the vial and tipped a measure of Fenrir's blood into the well. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a suddenness that made Eryx stumble back, the world around them... changed.

The chamber disappeared, replaced by a swirling vortex of images and sensations. Eryx felt as if he was falling and flying at the same time, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information bombarding him .

And then, just as suddenly, everything snapped into focus. Eryx found himself—or at least, his perception—in a place he'd never seen before. It was dark, oppressive, the air thick with malevolent energy that made his skin crawl.

But it wasn't the surroundings that caught his attention. It was the figure standing in the center of it all, radiating an aura of chaos and mischief that could only belong to one being.

"Loki," Eryx breathed, the name slipping out before he could stop it.

The trickster god turned, his eyes seeming to lock directly onto Eryx despite the impossibility of it. A slow, cruel smile spread across Loki's face, sending a chill down Eryx's spine.

"Well, well," Loki's voice echoed around them, sounding both far away and intimately close. "It seems we have some uninvited guests. How rude of you to spy, little godlings. Didn't your parents teach you better manners?"

Eryx felt a surge of frustration and fear. They were so close—Loki was right there—and yet completely out of reach. "The well," he said, his voice tight with urgency. "It's showing us where Loki is, what he's seeing right now."

Thor nodded, his face a mask of concentration. "Indeed. And if we're fortunate, he may lead us right to?—"

But before Thor could finish his thought, the scene shifted. Loki was moving, striding purposefully through twisting corridors that seemed to defy the laws of physics. They caught glimpses of strange creatures scurrying out of his way, of artifacts that radiated power so intense it made Eryx's teeth ache.

And then, for just a moment, they saw it. A massive door, sealed with chains that pulsed with divine energy. Eryx didn't need Thor's sharp intake of breath to know what—or rather, who—was behind that door.

But before they could get a proper look, Loki's voice cut through the vision once more. "Ah-ah-ah," he chided, wagging a finger as if scolding naughty children. "No peeking. That would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? And we can't have that, can we? "

With a wave of his hand, the vision began to dissolve, reality fracturing around them like breaking glass. The last thing Eryx saw before they were unceremoniously ejected from the magical scrying was Loki's face, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement.

"Do try to keep up, little ones," Loki's voice echoed as the world spun around them. "The game is only just beginning, after all."

And then they were back in the Chamber of Sight, gasping and disoriented as if they'd been dunked in ice water. Eryx staggered, grateful for Alex's steadying hand on his arm.

"Fuck!" Alex snarled, his free hand clenched into a fist. "That sneaky bastard knew we were watching. He led us on a wild goose chase and then slammed the damn door in our faces."

Thor's expression was thunderous, lightning crackling around his clenched fists. "We were so close," he growled. "If we'd had but a moment more, we might have seen where my father is being held."

Eryx felt his heart sink. Their one lead, their best chance at finding Loki and stopping whatever nefarious plan he was cooking up, gone in an instant. "So that's it?" he asked, hating how defeated he sounded. "We're back to square one?"

"Perhaps not," Fenrir's rumbling voice cut through the collective despair. All eyes turned to the wolf-god, who had been silent throughout the scrying. "There may yet be a way to trace Loki's location."

Hope flared in Eryx's chest, quickly tempered by caution. "How?" he asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice.

Fenrir's gaze shifted to the vial of blood, still clutched in Thor's massive hand. "The ritual used but a fraction of my blood. What remains in the right hands, with the right power, it could be used to pinpoint Loki's exact location."

"The right hands," Alex repeated, his voice flat. "You mean Zac."

Fenrir nodded, his green eyes glinting with something Eryx couldn't quite read. "The boy's connection to Absalom, his innate talent for blood magic, he may be able to succeed where even the Well of Sight failed."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Alex's expression hardened. "Absolutely fucking not," he growled, taking a step towards Fenrir. "We are not using Zac like some kind of magical bloodhound. He's been through enough already."

Eryx felt torn. On one hand, he understood Alex's protectiveness. Zac had already faced more danger and trauma than any teenager should have to deal with. But on the other...

"Alex," Eryx said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his partner's arm. "I know you want to protect him. I do too. But we have to consider all our options here."

Alex whirled on him, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You can't be serious. After everything that kid's been through, you want to ask him to dig even deeper into blood magic? To connect with whatever's left of Absalom? It could destroy him!"

Eryx took a deep breath, steeling himself. He hated being at odds with Alex, but sometimes... sometimes you had to make the hard choices. "It could," he agreed, meeting Alex's gaze steadily. "Or it could be the key to saving not just Odin, but all of reality. We have to at least give Zac the choice."

"The choice to what? Sacrifice himself for the greater good?" Alex's laugh was bitter and sharp. "Real heroic of us, putting that on a kid's shoulders."

"He's not just a kid anymore," Eryx argued, feeling Apollo's presence stirring within him, lending strength to his words. "He's faced down a goddess of death, Alex. He's part of this whether we like it or not. Don't you think he deserves to have a say in what happens next?"

For a long moment, Alex just stared at him, a storm of emotions playing across his face. Eryx held his breath, acutely aware of the others watching their exchange with varying degrees of interest and discomfort.

Finally, Alex's shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him like air from a punctured balloon. "Fine," he said, his voice rough. "We'll ask him. But if he says no, that's it. No guilt trips, no 'fate of the world' speeches. We find another way."

Eryx nodded, relief washing over him. "Agreed. We give him all the information and let him make his own choice."