Atypical (A Magnus Chase fan novel)

A Lamppost Demon From Hel

     Ethereal black fog swirled around the street, seemingly coming from nowhere. A gust blew aside, revealing our attacker. I put my back to an unconscious Alex, facing Amara. The wind swirled around violently, whipping my hair in my face, and Amara's hijab around her. I was scared out of my mind, but I knew she couldn't control herself. If I knew anything about myself as a child of Frey, is that we weren't fighters, no offence to Amara. Regardless I had a feeling she wasn't a natural in taking out garrotte wielding warriors. But the question was, how could Alex and I get out alive without hurting her?

     Jack was unusually quiet and unmoving in my hand, but Amara seemed wary of him. She wasn't surprised or freaked out like people usually are when they meet my talking, glowing sword, which was yet another clear sign that she was not in control of her body.

     A voice echoed down the street, feminine, singsong, and sinister. "Magnus Chase..." it taunted. I flinched. A chill ran down my spine when I realised that Amara's lips hadn't moved, and neither did Alex's, whose health I was becoming increasingly worried about.

     The temperature suddenly dropped about twenty degrees. Amara stepped forward mechanically, and held her hand out over the ground. "What...?" was all I managed before the entire street shook, and I stumbled. In the middle of the road, a crack appeared about three feet wide and ten feet long. A pint of blood drained from my face. Pure darkness and depth radiated from the crack, punctured by flashes of ghostly red light. More black smoke poured from the gap, filling the street. Alex disappeared from sight as the smoke swallowed everything besides me, Amara, and our personal canyon.

     I tried to say something, but the only thing that came out was a squeaky whimper. I started to hear whispers, and when I heard the first one, I nearly broke down sobbing.

     "Magnus! Come on silly! What were you doing over there?"

     It was my mom, exactly the way I remembered her voice. Suddenly, I was on one of our hikes, maybe on our trip to Yellowstone when I was seven, and I had paused by a creek to stare at the rushing water. It had mesmerised me, the way the clear liquid flowed off the rocks, causing a mist to form and rainbows to dance off the water, and I didn't realise my mom had walked on. When I turned around and found her missing, I had panicked and tried not to cry, looking around the bridge we were on. When I found her at the end of it, she had wrapped me in a hug and said this.

     I flashed back to the present, and heard more people call for me. My uncle Randolph, who had been horrible to me and gotten me killed, but tried to help me save the world in the end. His children, Emma and Audrey, whom I had never met, were calling to meet me. The voices were worse than the taunts of Ratatosk, the squirrel of insults who lived in the World Tree. I had almost died of his verbal pain, but this was worse. This was personal. This was meant for me.

     And I knew what it was. This was an entrance to Helheim, the land of the dishonored dead. I had been warned that I would have to face what was down there, but I had never wanted to think about it. It was too painful. But now it was here, and it was calling me down. I took a step forward as mechanically as Amara, fighting the urge to jump down and see my dead family.

     I heard a low moan from behind me, and with joy I realised Alex was still behind me, somewhere in the darkness. I wanted to go back to him. I wanted to go back home to Valhalla. I loved my friends, and I couldn't throw myself away into the past, I couldn't do that to them.

     So now to deal with Amara.

     For the first time, she showed emotion on her face, and I honestly wish she didn't. She smiled wickedly, and started to speak in the same, elderly feminine voice, echoing down the street. "Your time is coming. This is just a peek of what is to come. The havoc I will wreak upon you and your sister..."