Chapter Twelve

“I’m Algie Morar, Chief Scientist and Queen of the Trolleks. I’ve been eager to meet you.” The blond-haired woman at the bottom of the basement steps greeted Erika with a grin.

She didn’t look like a mad scientist in her clingy black dress and low-slung heels. Stunningly beautiful, Algie had clear blue eyes that shone with determination. She grasped Erika’s hand in a firm shake. Golden hair cascaded to her shoulders in soft, layered waves.

“You will lie on that table and follow my orders,” Algie said, observing her with a sly expression.

A sweet scent drifted into Erika’s nostrils, weakening her resolve. Alarm bells rang in her mind.

She jerked her hand away. “I don’t think so.”

Algie nodded. “I had to make sure you could resist my confounding. You are one of the prophesied six.” She walked over to a wall, took a tan lab coat off a hook and donned it.

Erika’s heart thudded as she surveyed the laboratory with its single treatment table covered by a ragged sheet, counters strewn with metal instruments, and other pieces of equipment.

“Come inside,” Algie said with an ingratiating smile.

“No.” Erika dug in her heels.

“Please don’t make this difficult.” Algie held up a hand as the officer behind Erika raised his arm, meaning to strike her again with that pain-inducing rod. “That won’t be necessary, Kaptein. You and your men are dismissed.”

The Trollek pounded his fist against his chest. “As you wish, my queen.” Turning on his heels, he stepped onto the lower rung of the stairs.

Her voice called out more softly. “Good work, Parug. This pair has eluded us before. I feared they might slip from our grasp again.”

The kaptein hesitated. “Our surveillance caught them when they entered the studio grounds. How they got here or learned about this compound are yet to be determined.”

“Indeed, the Brigader will be asking the Drift Lord those questions. I need the woman for more important matters.”

Kaptein Parug inclined his head in acknowledgment then retreated up the steps along with the rest of Erika’s escort. The door to the kitchen slammed shut after him.

Algie’s lab assistant lumbered forward when summoned. He was a huge male with an ugly pockmarked face and a smell like a dead animal. Or maybe that odor didn’t emanate from him. Erika sniffed, her nose wrinkling. Traces of bleach rent the air.

“Lie down, and we’ll get started.” Algie gestured toward the table.

Erika sought to delay the inevitable. “Why do these soldiers obey you? I understand you’re the first female of your race to wear the crown. Have you had an official coronation?”

A flicker registered in the assistant’s gaze then extinguished as Algie shot him a glance.

“We’re not on Jak’Tar here. In this realm, we recognize the worth of our females. Don’t we, Croft?”

“Aye, my queen.” Her assistant gave a slight bow.

“Unlike that fool, King Jorg, I openly acknowledge our alliance with the Dark Lord. At first, I didn’t agree with his methods, but I’ve come to see its advantages.”

“Who do you mean? What methods?”

“Sit down, and we’ll talk. If you act reasonable, force won’t be necessary. I promise you won’t be restrained.” Algie patted the table’s surface.

Erika walked over and sat on the edge. Her knees were wobbly and her body trembled. Nonetheless, she maintained a confident air.

“I don’t know if your companion explained the rationale behind our incursion into your world.” Algie clasped her hands behind her back and paced the room.

Erika remained silent, wanting to hear what the self-appointed queen had to say. Besides, she didn’t want to inadvertently give away information Magnor’s team might deem sensitive. Wishing she’d met the other Drift Lords, she pressed her lips together and waited.

“Over time, we noticed our reproductive rate had been declining.” Algie’s brow wrinkled in concentration. “An analysis showed the water on our world contained an element that reduced male virility. This led to two choices: we could raise the incidence rate of childbirth by having our females mate with human sloggs. Or we could correct the problem.”

“Wasn’t there some way to remove the contaminant from the water reservoirs?” She sympathized with their plight but not with their solution.

“No, we tried every means, and the results were the same. We could identify the specific element causing the problem, but we couldn’t locate its source to shut it off.”

“What about a countermeasure?”

“We tested every possible angle, from filtration to binding agents. Nothing reversed the effects.”

“So you gave up?”

Algie nodded. “King Jorg urged the Council of Elders to claim what was rightfully ours—the clean waters on Earth. We devised a means to force open the rifts. Our scouts came through to set up centers of operation.”

Erika scrunched her forehead. “I don’t understand. Did you want our resources, or our men to mate with your females?”

“Intermating would dilute our bloodline. That wasn’t the ideal solution. I had a better idea. Once upon a time, we all descended from the Originals who inhabited this planet. Some humans might still possess remnants of these traits. If I could find a compatible strand of DNA, perhaps I could splice it into our males to restore their virility.”

“Hence your experiments, which mostly failed from what I gathered.” Was it wise of her to say so?

“Until recently.” Algie’s eyes fired with enthusiasm. “I realized we could approach the problem differently. Why try to fix the males of our species? Instead, we should test humans and mark the ones with related genes. Then we could suppress their human DNA and turn them into Trolleks like us. That would sufficiently increase our genetic pool.”

Erika’s blood chilled at her casual tone. It sounded like something out of a horror movie.

“If you have a solution to your problem, why do you need me?” She hunched forward, her back aching.

Algie wagged her finger. “Because you, my dear, along with your five sisters in the prophecy, share certain strands of our DNA. You’re the best test subjects we could have.”

“Rumor says we’re descendants of Odin. Did the gods really exist?”

Algie chortled. “The Originals may have seemed godlike to their future generations. Some of them did have unusual traits. You inherited their abilities.”

“And this dark lord whom you follow? Have you considered the possibility that he may be using you for his own purposes?” She rested her hands on the treatment table for support.

“I’ll ask the questions here, Erika. I’m hoping to gain your understanding. Your cooperation will help my race to survive and our people to thrive. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for our extinction, would you?”

Heck, yes, if it meant ridding the world of your kind.

Erika darted a glance at the attendant, who stood by with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. “If you’re so intent on saving your species, why did you seize power and declare yourself queen? Is it true you helped a Drift Lord kill your husband?”

Algie stalked over and slapped her with a stinging blow to her cheek. “Do not challenge my authority. Action needed to be taken. The Jorgonauts, followers of King Jorg, would merely have us conquer each world and enslave its populace.

“I, on the other hand, will swell our numbers with new blood. Rather than make sloggs out of the humans, I will turn them into Trolleks. Once I’ve perfected my techniques, we can apply them to your entire species.”

“Yes, but at what cost? Won’t any offspring still contain human DNA, even if it’s been suppressed? Who knows when down the road those traits will resurface? You risk the very survival of the race you’re trying to save. Are you sure you’re serving science now, or your own aims?”

“Science still offers our best solution. We won’t have to confound your people when we can subjugate them by other means.”

Erika glanced at the guard, noting his interested mien and hoping he was a Viden, one of the Trollek factions who’d supported Algie and her scientific solution. If they thought their queen had taken power for her own ends, they might oppose her cause.

“What about your alliance with the power behind the throne? What are his goals? Does he even care about your people? Isn’t he aiming to destroy the universe, including all of its inhabitants?”

Algie moistened her lips, shooting an anxious glance around the room as though a hidden force might be listening. “The Dark Lord has sworn to protect us in exchange for doing his bidding. Already one of his promises has come true. He said we could rule this world, and it’s nearly ours.”

“Yes, about that.” She shifted her position. Her hands had started to go numb from too much pressure. “When will you be activating the government officials under your control?”

“What do you know of our subversive efforts?” Algie’s eyes gleamed with malice as she stood in front of Erika.

Erika realized she’d revealed too much. “Not a lot,” she lied. “I’ve only caught snatches here and there. The Drift Lords know you’re after world domination.” Who knew a villain that wasn’t?

“Not world domination, Erika. We’re going to take the universe. This planet is only the beginning.”

“So your plan is to either confound people or turn them into Trolleks like you. What about the elderly? Why are you sending them into deep space?” She caught Algie’s startled glance. “Oh, yes, we found the portal. Have you no use for the aged population?”

Algie’s gaze hardened. “The elderly, the infirm—we might as well get rid of the contamination from the start. We will purify our line and thrive in a new world order.”

Led by you, of course. This same refrain of racial cleansing had been repeated throughout history.

Erika pushed herself off the table and stood. She couldn’t keep sitting there with her legs dangling. Her feet tingled from lack of circulation.

Algie pursed her lips. “We need to get started on your tests.” Sauntering to a counter, she lifted a syringe. “Menig Croft, put her on the table.”

“Aye, my queen.” His jaw clenched, the soldier advanced.

Erika slipped sideways. “Let’s be sensible about this. Our scientists could help you develop a cure for your people’s problem. Why don’t you ask for help?”

“It’s not our way.” Algie gripped the syringe in one hand and wheeled over a metal pole with the other. An IV bag hung from a hook, its tubing twisted and secured.

“No!” She wouldn’t allow the Trollek scientist to experiment on her.

As Croft grasped her arm, Erika remembered the dust dervish in the desert and how she might have been responsible. Using visual imagery, she delved through the ground’s surface to its virtual layers beneath, to the substrata, to the tectonic plates. If only she’d studied geology, but earth sciences had never held her interest.

Ignoring Croft’s fingers that dug into her flesh, she pictured herself grabbing hold of the mantle underlying the earth’s crust. She yanked on it in her imagination, but nothing comparable happened in reality.

Her concentration broke when the brute lifted her and flipped her onto the table. Spine down, she stared at the ceiling and gritted her teeth.

This time she gave a more violent mental shake. Ripples extended upward through layers of substrata until reaching the surface.

Again, no corresponding response in real time. Was she wrong about her power possibly being related to the earth?

Croft’s shadow fell over her as he lifted one of the leather restraints prior to clamping it onto her wrist.

Desperation clawing at her, she imagined herself grasping fragments of clay deep underground and kneading them together. They coalesced into larger clumps and melted in the heat coming from the magma below. Molten material surged upward through the cracks she’d created in her mind.

A low rumble sounded in the cellar, and the ground jerked.

“It’s another earthquake,” Erika said, jubilant that her theory had worked. “Quick, we have to get outside.”

A crevice split the concrete floor, racing toward Algie and Croft. Sounds of glass shattering and objects thudding from above reached them. Instruments fell off the metal tray, crashing to the floor with a loud clang.

Gathering her wits, Erika yanked her arm free from Croft’s grip, rolled off the table on the side away from him, and dashed for the stairs.

A blur of motion followed her.

“Not so fast,” Algie said from behind.

Damn, hadn’t Magnor mentioned they moved with super speed? The door was just ahead, up a flight of steps. A few more feet, and she could make it.

She turned and kicked at Algie to keep her away. Croft, a snarl bearing his teeth, thrust his queen aside and jabbed his shock stick at Erika.

Erika dodged the blow while wondering if offense might be a better defense. As she whirled to spring up the steps, she brought forth her mental imagery and gave the underlying layers a sharp yank. The ground shook side-to-side, making Croft stumble.

She still faced a closed door at the top of the landing. Would it be locked?

She’d taken her first steps upward when the door burst open. A large figure ranged in the doorway, blocking her access.

****

A hairy gray beast lumbered into Magnor’s view, its eyes glowing and its fangs exposed. His heart pounded as he imagined those teeth ripping out his throat. The beast’s size was larger than any canine he’d encountered. It prowled closer, sniffing his legs while Magnor’s blood curdled.

“Meet Fenrir, the mighty wolf who slayed Odin at the battle of Ragnarok,” Brigader Omeron said. “He’s a shifter like his sire, whom he serves now. As do we all.”

The animal opened its mouth and spoke in a gruff voice. “Until our lord regains his true form, I speak on his behalf. Behold the magnificence of Loki, companion to the gods.”

An inky cloud separated from the shadows and approached from the opposite side of the room. The dank smell of rot accompanied it.

Magnor searched his memory for the myths Nira had taught him. Loki, if he recalled properly, was a frost giant’s son fostered by Odin. He’d caused endless trouble for the residents of Asgard, home of the Norse gods.

Loki had three children, Fenrir being one of them. The sea monster, who lived in the waters surrounding Midgard where humans dwelled, was another. And so was Hel, ruler of the dead.

After Loki caused the death of Balder, one of Odin’s sons, he was banished to a cave and chained to a rock beneath a serpent who dripped poison onto his face. He’d remained in this prison until Ragnarok.

Magnor had to make sure history didn’t repeat itself.

“Loki, I thought you were stuck in an underground cave. Is this really you or an embodiment of your evil?”

The thunderous cloud roiled and twisted like a wraith from hell. When the wolf responded, its voice echoed throughout the attic.

“Until I am free, my visits to this realm are limited to this shadowy mist. The walls of my cavern crack and widen even as we speak. Soon I will regain my strength, and then I will unleash a catastrophe the likes of which you cannot imagine.”

Magnor tried unsuccessfully to wrench his hands loose. “We’ve sealed the gates. There will be no further accumulation of cors particles at the rift horizons. Without the widening dimensional drift and the resultant blowout, how do you plan to free yourself from your prison?”

Fenrir cackled, an eerie sound coming from a wolf. Drool slobbered from his mouth as he ranged back and forth in front of Magnor. “The dimensional plates underlie the tectonic plates of this world. Disrupt one, and I disrupt the other.”

Magnor’s heart raced as he gleaned Loki’s purpose. “We will stop you. So the prophecy states. So shall it be.”

“The prophecy calls for the six sons of Thor to unite with the six daughters of Odin to recite the ancient rune. I have you and your lady. That leaves only five of each. The prophecy will not apply.”

“Untrue. I wasn’t born with the genetic trait inherent to the Drift Lords. Nor have I been accepted officially into their League. Who’s to know if they’ll find another warrior to join them, one whose latent power becomes evident?”

“We have the woman.”

“Yes, but is she the rightful one?”

“Have you found the prophesied rune yet?”

“Maybe.” A cramp in his lower back made him shift his weight. Maug hard chair.

Fenrir approached, salivating next to Magnor’s ankle. One chomp from that beast, and he’d limp for the rest of his life.

Never mind what else they’d do to him. He’d been trained from childhood to resist torture. His people might be farmers, but they’d fought neighboring tribes in an ages-long struggle. He had learned to wield a knife in battle before using one as cutlery.

His gut clenched at the thought of Erika somewhere below, a captive of Algie. The Trollek scientist might believe she was in the right to save her people with her genetic programs, but that was an excuse to maim and kill thousands of humans. Even now, she might be infusing Erika with her latest compound, causing the twisting, excruciating pain that often resulted.

If only he could get to her. What he faced might be no less, but he’d die with honor. Erika might die in screaming agony, and he couldn’t prevent it.

Her defiant green eyes and plush lips floated into his mind. His nostrils flared at the remembered scent of her. He’d kill these doniks if they hurt his woman.

His woman. Aye, he couldn’t deny it. Destiny meant for them to be together. He’d suspected as much from the moment he had walked into that casino and spotted her. It seemed an improbable outcome, considering his origins and her personal goals. And now they’d never get the chance to explore their future.

Cold dread tore the veil of his thoughts. The black vapor had seeped across the floor and oozed up his leg toward his chest.

Shadowy fingers extended from its midst and dove into his flesh. The entity squeezed his heart until suffocating pressure stole his breath. Blood suffused his face. He bent forward as far as his bound wrists would allow but it didn’t ease his breathing.

A voice entered his head. “Tell me, Drift Lord, what know you of the rune? Where does your team plan to assemble with Nira Larsen’s sisters to recite the words?”

“You’ll never find out.” He spit the words from his dry lips. “We’ll say the verse and you’ll be gone forever.”

The illusory fist tightened, and his vision tunneled into a red haze of pain. He sucked in just enough air to avoid passing out.

“Tell me where to find the rest of your team.”

“Go. To. Hell.”

“I will gladly send you to my daughter, Hel, after you talk,” the insidious voice rasped in his head.

Vaporous arrows lanced his kidneys, eliciting a moan from his throat. Loki’s incorporeal fingers twisted and probed, intensifying his agony.

He clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw throbbed. While he awaited the next torment, his heart raced like an out-of-control train.

Then to his surprise, the assault lessened.

“I am not at my full strength yet. Perhaps the wolf will have better success in convincing you to cooperate.”

Fenrir bit down on his ankle, and his vision went black.