The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,31

in a nasty way, you understand? All in good fun.”

There was a commotion up on the ledge above them. Four Valkyries touched down by Odin’s hands. They took hold of his arms, two to each one, and dragged him back up on to solid ground.

“My thanks, ladies,” the Allfather said. “Thy loyalty is commendable.” He glared down past Zac to where Herya dangled. “A shame the same cannot be said for all thine number.”

“I do not know what has come over her, Allfather,” said Herya’s mother, stepping up to join Odin at the edge of the cliff. They were both standing close to the sword. Worryingly close for Zac’s liking. “She always was... headstrong, even for a Valkyrie.”

Odin nodded sagely. “She is a disappointment.”

“No,” spat the older Valkyrie. “She is a disgrace.”

Zac’s muscles screamed at him as he tried to pull himself and Herya back up. But the cold was too biting and the pain was too great, and it was all he could do just to hold on.

“H-help us up,” he pleaded. “We’re going to fall.”

Odin squatted down. He examined the sword, then he turned to Zac and smiled kindly. “That’s right, young Zac,” he said. “Thou art.”

Still smiling, the Allfather tapped a finger against the ground. The sword shuddered, then sliced through the last few centimetres of ice. Zac felt his stomach do a flip and then he, the sword and Herya were sucked down into the swirling mists of the abyss.

AC WAS LYING on something. It was sharp and uncomfortable and was digging into his back. His eyes were closed and they were in no mood for opening just yet. His ears were probably working, but all they could hear was silence, so he couldn’t be sure. His nose was definitely functioning, though. A cold swirl of decay and damp seeped up each nostril and whispered dark thoughts into his brain. They told him many things had died in this place, and that he would almost certainly be next, so it was probably best just to lie still and wait for it all to be over.

The sharp thing in his back begged to differ.

“Get off,” it said, and Zac realised he was lying on Herya. More specifically, he was lying on her legs with the toe of her boot poking into his spine. The sudden kick she gave him was enough to jump-start his sleeping body. He rose quickly. His eyes opened. He could still see nothing.

To call the fog thick would be to do it a disservice. It looked almost solid, as if it had been painted on to the air in layers of white and grey.

“Where are we?” he asked. He heard Herya stand up somewhere nearby.

“The Nether Lands,” she said grimly.

“The Netherlands?” Zac asked. “What, as in... beside Belgium?”

“No, not the Netherlands,” she said. Her voice sounded muffled by the mist. “The Nether Lands. The void between the Afterworlds.” Although he couldn’t see her, Zac heard Herya shudder. Her voice became little more than a whisper. “The realm of the lost gods.”

“Right. And I’m guessing that’s not somewhere we want to be?”

“No,” she said. “And yes. We can get to Argus from here. If we can find the way. And if we can avoid being eaten.”

“Eaten?”

“There are other lost things in the Nether Lands,” she explained. “Not just gods.”

As if on cue, something howled in the distance. Zac turned to look in the direction of the sound, but all he saw were shades of grey.

“Great,” he said quietly.

The fog around them was briefly lit up by a flicker of lightning. For a split second he saw Herya silhouetted in the mist. “How did we survive the fall?” he asked.

“Nothing dies in the Nether Lands,” she said.

“But you just said we might get eaten.”

“Yes,” she replied.

It took a moment for Zac to realise her meaning. “Oh,” was all he said.

“There are worse things than death.”

Zac nodded. “Yeah. So everyone keeps telling me.”

The howl came again, closer this time. A second later, another one answered.

“We should go,” Herya said. “The things down here may not need to see us to find us.”

“I should try to find Angelo,” Zac sighed. “If he fell, he should be around here somewhere.”

“Hello,” said Angelo brightly. Zac and Herya both screamed in fright, then immediately pretended they hadn’t.

“Where the Hell did you come from?” Zac demanded. He was grateful for the fog so no one could see that all the colour had drained from his face.

“Over there,” Angelo replied. “Or was