CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
It didn’t take long to find Eirik and Brin. After walking through the swamp silently for a few minutes, they paused at the sound of movement. A moment later, the two Vikings appeared, both relieved to see them.
“Oh, thank Odin,” Brin breathed. “Are you hurt?”
Muni shook her head. “You two?”
“We climbed a large tree to get out of the water,” Eirik answered. “After a while, the gators grew tired and left.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Somehow, I think my nightmares are going to be real interesting after we get out of this race.”
Moving to check over them despite their reassurance they were fine, Muni was only satisfied once she double checked the blood on their clothing was from the gators and not them.
“So,” Eirik said, breaking the silence. “Zombie gators.”
“The work of the necromancer Councilman, I’m sure.” Muni searched the water around them, making sure there were none of the creatures close by. In the distance, she could still hear them moving and worried for them coming closer, but for now, they seemed far enough away.
As they moved through the swamp, she could make out a mass of land again. It would be nice to get out of the water for a short amount of time at least. Stepping up the bank and trying not to slide in the mud, it took until Muni crested the top of the mound to realize her mistake.
She froze, her eyes on the two men standing before her. When the other three made it up the bank, they did the same, freezing before the necromancer who held a staff carved from the trees.
“Hello, Munin,” Phillip James, the driver, purred.
“Necromancer,” she offered, straightening up and facing him head on. “How polite of you saving me the time of hunting you down.”
He laughed at her words, as if they were some great joke. “Funny, as if you’re the one at an advantage here.”
Muni studied him, watched his partner who stood a bit further back. Clearly his partner was more nervous than he was, warily watching the three men at her back. He didn’t move, didn’t hold a weapon out. It seemed he was only there to serve as back up more than anything else, but from the fear in his eyes, Muni knew he wouldn’t be much help. Phillip must have something over him to force him to be there.
“Funny you think you have the high ground,” Eirik replied, and when Muni glanced at him, it was to see his fingers curled into talons. The corner of her lips quirked up at his threat.
“I’ve already permanently killed one of Odin’s spies,” Phillip said. “Why should I be afraid to finish the other?”
But Muni tilted her head at his words, her eyes narrowed. She knew she probably looked strange the way she moved, and the other necromancer took a step back from the look on her face. “How do you know Hugin’s death is permanent?” When Phillip clamped his lips shut, Muni couldn’t help the sinister smile on her face. The other necromancer took another step back. “Did your partner tell you that?”
“Your tricks won’t work on me, raven,” Phillip sneered. “I’m immune to compulsion.”
“Oh?” Her eyes focused on his partner there. “Do you know anything of my brother’s death?”
“No,” he said immediately, the word ringing with truth. “I don’t know anything, ma’am.”
She nodded. “Go on, then. My quarrel isn’t with you.”
Phillip turned with a sneer as if to tell the other man not to be a coward, but that was the thing. Most people had survival instincts, and the other necromancer was already in the water, taking the opportunity to survive rather than wait around. If he survived the rest of the race, he wouldn’t win, but at least he would have a chance at life.
Phillip, realizing he’d lost his backup, tensed and faced Muni head on. Though it was clear he was afraid—his hand began to shake—he stood his ground, determined to finish what he’d started.
“Who told you to place the bomb?” Muni asked him.
Phillip grit his teeth, fighting the compulsion. “It won’t work.”
But Brin stepped up beside her and took Muni’s hand. His eyes were hard on the necromancer. Together, both Brin and Muni said, “Who told you to place the bomb?”
She could see the moment the compulsion cracked, his supposed immunity nothing but a pipedream. Sure, he’d resisted better than most, but in the end, he’d fallen just the same.
“Councilman Deadmont.”
Muni’s face tightened. “And who pulls his strings?”
Phillip tried to resist again, but he couldn’t. Her talons were already into his subconsciousness. “I don’t know.”
“But there’s someone?”
“Yes,” Phillip said through his teeth. “In exchange for killing Hugin, he was promised the win and a seat on the council. Riches and power.”
Drones flew around them, watching, and Muni could feel the zombie gators closing in again, the necromancer’s power drawing them in. Like recognized like. He wouldn’t be able to control them because they weren’t his creatures. He was just as vulnerable to the alligators as they were.
They’d have to fight their way out of this, the hoard of wildlife, but first, Muni needed to take care of Phillip James.
A beeping machine appeared overhead a second later, the drones turning to watch as a much larger drone swooped down low and dropped a heavy package in front of them. Eirik, without waiting for her to say anything, immediately reached down and unwrapped a large battle axe, beautiful and strong.
He read the note out loud. “With care, Danica.” He picked up the axe and handed it to Muni. “The honor is yours.”
Muni took it without hesitation and the necromancer began to beg.
“Please. I didn’t have a choice. He made me. . .”
“We always have a choice,” Muni answered, staring down at him as he sunk to his knees. “You killed my brother. Blood for blood is the rite of betrayal.” She raised the axe high. “This is for Hugin.”
With a wide swing, Muni brought down the axe on his neck, killing him. There was no horn—there was still a necromancer teammate in the swamp—but she didn’t need it. Turning, she found the nearest drone and looked directly into the camera. She pointed the axe into it, a threat, despite the gators closing in. It would reach who she intended.
Then without a backward glance, they stepped over the body of the necromancer and entered the final two miles of the swamp.