Next morning, Thor finally dragged himself to the gates of the Holy Mountain.
He let out a long breath at the towering snow sculpture: a barbarian hefting a brutal axe, one boot planted on a demon whose mere sight chilled the blood. The barbarian was Madoc; the demon, Baal.
Bored Madoc had picked up snow-carving over endless years, forever adding new toys to the peak.
"About time you showed up."
Talic squatted on the far side, rolling a snowball taller than a man.
The ancestors had nothing but time; any pastime could last days.
"So tell me why I'm here!"
Thor flicked snow from his hair.
The climb wasn't far, but a heart fixed on Mjolnir climbs crooked. Numbness alone had hauled him up.
"How should I know? Follow me to the Elders' Sanctuary. Bul-Kathos dumped you on us."
Talic hoisted the giant snowball, Ancient Spear: Boulder Toss. Madoc's statue exploded.
Business first; the snowball was now trash. Better smash it before Madoc retaliated.
He spun and marched toward the sanctuary. Thor shook his head, felt the gulf between them, and trailed behind.
On the gate's blind side, Madoc glowered.
He'd seen everything. Only Korlic's chokehold had stopped a Leap–Whirlwind combo.
"Throttle me, huh? Wait till I get you, Korlic!"
Korlic answered by tightening his arm.
Madoc clawed at the grip, twisting uselessly. Korlic's lock was art.
"Planning to shame us in front of a stranger?"
Korlic hissed, angling the hold to spike pain.
"And what am I waiting for? You to drop your axes and yell 'I quit'?"
Most fights between the three ended when hot-headed Madoc walked away. Purpose had ruled his living battles; death left the temper.
"Fine! Let go. I'll pound Talic later."
Korlic released him.
"Sure you can crack Defender Talic's shell? He blocks better than Caljoo, and swings a greatsword. Even the hedgehog hates sparring him."
Korlic flopped down and started his own snowball. Nothing else to do on a snow-choked gate.
"I'll wait for Rumford, then beat Talic. If he wants Luke, he can have him."
Madoc bared teeth, scooped snow with his giant axe. New statue: Talic under his boot.
Bruce Wayne still swung axes in the yard; Korlic never worried about slacking. The man's iron discipline was why Korlic loved him. After weapons, Wayne sought Cassius for fists. Korlic had become a professional portal-opener.
Gate-boy.
…
Bul-Kathos waved Jill onto the school bus, rinsed breakfast dishes, and ripped open a portal home.
Outside the sanctuary, Rorschach charged back and forth under Li Li's eye, legs whipping—basic Frenzy practice.
"Li Li, teaching charge this early?"
"You forgot he's Deer Tribe. Technique comes easy to us."
Li Li's raspy voice could lull stone to sleep.
Bul-Kathos spotted Kanuk lurking behind the hall, said nothing. Old habit. Kanuk and Li Li had their silent treaty: never speak, never dodge, let cruelty pass as nature.
"Rorschach, decided?"
Rorschach halted.
"I still care, but I'll wait till the day you promised."
Bul-Kathos tossed Li Li a jug of his brew. "When you're ready for rifts, find me."
"I rarely drink." She took it anyway—payment for coaching.
Every year on her wedding day she borrowed Bul-Kathos's wrath to walk the world, got drunk exactly once, and vanished.
"Another stray on the mountain. Old, but acts twelve."
Volusk waddled out, boots clanging. Immortality's Dignity thudded down.
"Trying to say the kid fits me?"
"Talic's bringing him."
Bul-Kathos left to check Cassius and Olongus.
"You didn't say who he is. I'm not embarrassing barbarians like you."
Volusk smashed the thrown Ancient Spear: Wrath-Hurl, only for its chain to yank him behind Bul-Kathos. A skillet-sized fist met his eye.
He laughed, iron gauntlet rising.
Clang—barbarian claw instead.
"I knew you'd glove up!"
Bul-Kathos kicked.
"You fight fair without the Ninety set!"
Volusk kneed the foot.
He was cheering Bul-Kathos the only way he knew—bruises.
"Scram!"
Li Li's voice arrived after she'd launched both men skyward.
She thought male bonding was surplus energy; go scrub coal.
Bul-Kathos Leap-landed in front of Thor; Volusk followed.
"Thor, earn his nod or I've got backups."
"Why—"
Thor's question made Bul-Kathos's temples throb—Rorschach had done the same yesterday.
"Hah! Me too, Bul-Kathos! Why?"
Volusk slung an arm around Thor.
"I like the kid. Your call?"
"His father paid me to forge a real warrior."
Bul-Kathos stalked off, anger caged until battle.
"My father?"
Thor felt the arm like a vice.
Odin had brooded all night on the throne, wondering what youthful folly had spawned this mess.
"Kid, you a warrior?"
Volusk slapped Thor's back.
Asgardian triple-density made Thor sturdy—decent recruit material.
"Best in Asgard. You?"
Thor slapped back.
Volusk's veins bulged.
"Used to be." He pointed at Bul-Kathos. "He is now."
"Want to be real? Experience it."
Volusk never mystified. Teaching method: secret realm, survive, self-correct. Ask, get two gruff tips.
"Experience?"
Thor blinked.
He wanted the road home, not—
Volusk seized his throat and hurled him through a rift.
One-ninety-eight against two-twenty-two was no contest. No axe, either. Volusk's "warrior?" had checked for steel; Thor had just lost Mjolnir.
"One pack of Moon Clan. Kid'll live."
Dead on Volusk's watch would sting—especially a fathered heir.
Moon Clan: hell-stapled corpses. Big, slow, stupid, stinking.
Don't slug it out, you're fine.
…
"F—"
Thor belly-flopped among bones. Before he could summon Mjolnir, a Moon Clan freight train flattened him.
(Chapter end)
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