Two Ravens and One Crow (Novella)

eyes now red, and said, »Oh, you’re delightful, whoever you are.«
    I wish somebody could have filmed it at high speed so I could later appreciate the martial arts involved; the few people trying to capture this fight at night with cellphone cameras were going to be disappointed. The Morrigan and the anonymous figure fell to’t again, trading audible blows yet unable to do significant damage to each other.
    I opened the car door and slid out into the street without camouflage, wishing to preserve what magic I had left. I clutched my open wound, which I hadn’t closed up yet because the bullet was still inside and needed to be extracted. My emergence caused some comment among the general public. Some variation of »That man is naked and bleeding!« could be heard rippling through them, but this spectacle was only momentarily diverting compared to the woman who was naked and fighting.
    Linda, however, who was thankfully okay if a bit rattled, found my exit both fascinating and horrifying. »Who is that? How did he get in my car? I don’t know who that is! I swear he’s not mine! I was not driving with a naked man! Which is kind of a shame, really, now that I think about it. Look at that, eh? Yum!«
    There was very little I could contribute to the fight. I was in no condition to match speed or strength with them, and I had parts that were extremely vulnerable right now. Despite my winning record against pagan gods and vampires so far, I didn’t relish facing off against one that could go toe-to-toe with the Morrigan. I was also supposed to be in hiding, so the increasing number of camera phones was making me nervous. I left the scene with an odd gait that tried to minimize impact and headed for a dark alley between buildings. No one tried to stop me until I entered the alley itself.
    A gray figure loomed out of the darkness, and moonlight glinted on his brow and the ridge of his nose. Blood covered his tunic and some of it had seeped through his coat as well, high up on the right side of his torso. »Where are you going?« Odin said.
    »Oh! Away, I guess? I hadn’t thought it through too much. Whoever that is out there, if he was able to track me he wouldn’t have needed to enchant Frigg’s necklace, and, besides, I’m not in any shape to fight.«
    Odin grunted. »Neither am I. I suppose our business is concluded and you’re free to go. But don’t you wish to find out who wants to kill you? I do.«
    »I figured someone would send me a memo. Where’s the Wild Hunt?«
    »I dismissed them. The hunt is wonderful above the rooftops but not so ideal among the civilians at street level.«
    »Good call. Speaking of which, if you’d like to get the fight moved into this alley for closer observation, I could probably manage it. There would be no civilians unless they followed.«
    »Do it.« Odin’s appearance began to shift from the Gray Wanderer to the impressive tuxedo-clad authority figure.
    I reached out to the Morrigan with my mind. Move into the alley behind you. I’m here with Odin . I didn’t get an answer, but the nature of the battle changed. Morrigan altered her tactics and managed to grab hold of her opponent and toss him or her across the street and into the alley where we waited. The assembled crowd gave a collective gasp. The figure landed with a whuff of breath at our feet. Odin bent down and tore off the ski mask with his left hand, revealing the assailant to be female after all.
    I didn’t recognize her at first, since her hair was mussed, her nose and mouth bloodied by the Morrigan, and I was looking at her face upside down. She recognized me, however, and pushed and pivoted on the ground and tried to sweep my legs. I hopped over her kick like it was a jump rope, but I hadn’t sped up my movements yet and she was much faster than me. Up on her feet before I knew what she was about, she punched me in the solar plexus and sent me sprawling backward in the alley. She would have followed up had Odin not interposed himself and grabbed her by the throat with his left hand. She roared and flailed at him, but he did not let go, and his grip was unbreakable. For a guy who wasn’t in shape to fight, he seemed to be doing quite well for himself.
    »You will submit! Freyja! Cease this instant!«
    Freyja, the Norse goddess of war and beauty, had more than the average number of reasons to hate me. We didn’t need to interrogate her to figure out what she’d done and why. I’d killed her brother and