Hammer of the Gods

Chapter 31

GROWING WEAKER IN THE NIGHT

Chapter 17

The fairies pure in heart may see

In other forms they appear to be

Sylphs and fairies with wings do fly

Like the elves they never die

Elementals and forest sprites,

Fly around like magic lights

Nymphs and pixies sing in tune

Avoid mushroom circles at full moon

The very wise and learned tell,

They are angel born, but not of Heaven, not of Hell

They ran out of food in the middle of the third week. Hunger gnawed at the Nephilim mortals. They had become irritable with one another and spoke little. Fatigue was a poor word to describe what they felt as they struggled to drag one foot in front of the other. The darkness, even with the light of the stones was oppressive. Hammerhand and Atungitok were used to the half-light of the subterranean world, but for Angelica, Jonah, Lorne and Nanuk it was wearing on their minds. The tunnel opened up into a small cavern that had an underground river running through it. Over the swiftly flowing stream was an arched stone walkway which had dwarven markings on the near side, but another language on the far side. Hammerhand identified the runes on the far side as Elven.

“We must have missed a tunnel somewhere farther back,” he exclaimed with some distress. The runes that I can read say, ‘You have entered Svartalfheim and the realm of King Grumblemace,’ but they do not explain what lies beyond the bridge on the other side. When I return home I will be sure to sign up for a class in Elven runes. My people have not encountered an elf in hundreds of years and if not for my Uncle’s tales, I might not believe the stories, but these runes at least give credence to the myths. The question now is if we continue forward will we exit into Alfheim, Niflheim or Svartalfaheimr? We would be safe enough in Alfheim, the land of the Light Elves, but the Dark Elves would be less welcoming and the tales of Niflheim and the Snow Elves are but a whispered folk-tale amongst the dwarves.” Hammerhand said grimly.

They noted that there were fish swimming in the river and decided to try their luck catching some. Atungitok said there was a river like this through the gnome kingdom with fish and a type of fresh water shrimp that they would harvest from but that this must not be the same river as the waters that flow through the gnome kingdom exits, Enukin Ingik (Gnome Mountain), flowing down to the Bearing Sea near the town of Nome. The gold that washes up on the beaches around Nome are actually the discard gold dust and nuggets that his people lose when mining under the mountains. Atungitok was fairly skilled at spearing the Arctic Char as they turned out to be, but, after successfully retrieving a half-dozen of the shiny, flapping, creatures, he seemed to grow overly confident and lost his footing and slipped into the water. The swift current quickly began to wash him downriver towards a narrow opening in the cave. He screamed as he gasped for air, thrashing at the water with his arms while choking on the cold liquid. Most gnomes cannot swim and so it seemed to be with Atungitok.

Gabriel, hearing the cries, turned and raced across the water faster than all but Angelica and Raphael could see and quickly grabbed Atungitok by his coat and pulled him out of the water while he himself stood upon its flowing surface. The little man squealed from the cold and wet, flailing around as he hung from the archangel’s hand. Gabriel walked slowly back to shore with the shivering gnome, but on his last step over the water his right foot sank down until its surface was half way to his knee. With a look of shock upon his face he stepped ashore and set the Atungitok down gently upon his feet. The other party members, except for Raphael, stood with their mouths open in disbelief, having just witnessed a miracle.

Gabriel stared at his wet clothing, with a look of concern and bewilderment upon his face. His brother, having noted the abnormality, walked over to him and they spoke in the angelic tongue as the others tried to share their parkas with the cold, wet, gnome.

“I have felt it too.” Raphael said to Gabriel. “It is the darkness. Never before have we been without the light for so long. It seems to be sapping my strength. We need to find the exit soon.”

“We need to begin training the Nephilim to enhance their powers. We may need them by the time we exit the caves.” Gabriel said to Raphael, as Jonah listened in.

Raphael nodded in agreement.

In this cavern, there were mosses growing along the cave floor nearer the river. The lichens glowed with soft luminescence. It was quite beautiful as they all placed their carbunculi in their pockets. The light created other worldly kaleidoscopes of colors. Further away from the river, some of the moss was fairly dry, and using it Nanuk was able to make a small fire.

Atungitok warmed himself near the flames as he dried out his clothes.

Nanuk began cooking the fish adding a few spices that had been supplied by the dwarves. He used a spear to hang the fish over the fire by laying it across two stones. The fresh meat was a welcome change from the hardtack stores of the dwarves. They were able to refill their water bottles in the river and took turns washing just around a bend on the upstream side where a rockslide offered some privacy. Their moods were lifted with warm food in their stomachs and with the chance to bathe. Nanuk and a now cautious, Atungitok, caught additional fish and dried them over the embers, restocking their stores for the remainder of their march.

The two shape-shifters had spent the past several days alone together in the evening’s mourning their uncle’s death. They dreaded breaking the news to their father upon their return, whenever that might be. They recalled old memories and talking about those fair times eased the pain of their loss, somewhat.

The group met together early the next morning and made the decision to turn back to the last large cave they had passed through, approximately a half-day’s journey. There they would search the perimeter of the cave for another exit. Moans of discontent came from the mortals who were foot sore and weary from the steady marching, day after day.

Hammerhand explained to them that they had followed the straightest path. Unable to read Elvish they did not want to take the chance of ending up in the land of the dark elves by mistake. If they were unsuccessful in the last cave they would return this way as they knew they had a food here and clean, fresh, water and would take their chances in the Elven tunnel. Gabriel and Raphael did not eat, but carried extra fish for the others. They explained that angels do not have to eat, although they do enjoy good food.

Gabriel asked for Jonah to walk with him this day so he could educate him on the use of the Rod of God and how he would need to focus on what he wanted the staff to do with faith and that combined with emotion, and a focus on the outcome, would channel his energy through the staff and it would be done. The rod could not be used in an unrighteous way and only by one of the Nephilim or an ordained prophet. Aternerk Sangliak was able to use the staff as he was half-dwarf and half-gnome, both of which are of Nephilim bloodlines and because his reason for using it was to stop the wars beneath the mountains.

Gabriel told Jonah to concentrate on creating light from the staff. Jonah had reacted to the gnome attack out of instinct and had called up the wall of force that knocked the little warriors back into the wall near the vault, but he had trouble now that he was calm to try and get the staff to come to life.

“Think of a happy memory involving sunlight, believe in the power of God and focus on the staff.” Gabriel said.

Jonah concentrated as they walked down the dark tunnel. He and Gabriel put their glowing stones in their pockets. The dim light from those that followed created just enough illumination so they could see the floor a few feet in front of them. He suddenly felt warmth in his chest that he would sometimes feel when attending church or studying the scriptures or praying. The warmth spread down his arms into the staff. This heavenly power seemed to radiate in waves down his arms. The leaves at the top of the staff began to glow faintly and with renewed hope and excitement the feeling grew stronger, until suddenly, the staff burst into a golden white light. It looked like that which came from Gabriel and Raphael when they were transfigured at the bridge.

“That was very good Jonah.” Gabriel said encouragingly.

“The staff can be used offensively or defensively and we will spend the next couple of days practicing with it before we leave the tunnels. Next, I want you to focus on changing the staff to a snake.”

Jonah looked up wide-eyed as he recalled the tales of the rod being turned into a serpent in the Pharos’s court by Aaron and Moses. The staff turned serpent before devouring the staves of Pharos’s priests who had also been turned into snakes by using black magic. Jonah recalled the visions he had had when he first touched it and replayed the scene with Moses, Aaron, Ramses and his priests in his mind.

***

The hours drifted slowly by as the party retraced their steps in hopes of finding the tunnel to Asgard. They passed dark halls, crystal caverns, and subterranean pools, which had but weeks before mesmerized and amazed, but now, the weary mortals, yearned for the light of day, and the sight of open skies. The labyrinth twisted and split like the hollow tubes of a an earthen giant’s lungs. The quiet shuffle of boots echoed around them. Soft conversations blended into a cacophony of sounds, but the footsore travelers were more oft alone, in wakeful dreams. The dreary, monotony of sameness was suddenly broken by a crash and clatter of stone. Though hard and strong, the rocks were suddenly banished by their brethren from the roof above. After countless millennia of silent slumber, the mere vibrations of voices and footfalls allowed the boulders a burst of movement, which ended in broken forms of shapeless earth and rubble. There they would lie, undisturbed, until the world’s end.

Though these were but small pieces of a greater creation, they triggered haunting fears in the outworlders. For these fallen stones and were a reminder that there were mountains of earth pressing down from above. The former enchantment of this realm, was replaced by oppression, and closeness of tight quarters, which squeezed upon their minds.

Yet the archangels, if they had concern for such matters, showed naught but their peaceful grace. It was by observing their heavenly forms that their part-human comrades clung to their sanity. Even Hammerhand and Atungitok, whose people had lived beneath the earth for hundreds of years, grumbled of the unending, narrow confines of the tunnels.

The passage finally opened into a dark void, which was a great chasm, pitted and broken here and there. Splitting up, they began to search the rough floors and jagged walls for a gateway which was said to have been carved into stone.

It had been hundreds of years since Hammerhand’s uncle, Hadgrim Grumblemace had passed through its doors and its exact location was unknown.

Angelica was looking towards one end of the chamber when she noted a large fissure in the floor, about eight or ten feet across at is center which gradually narrowed towards its ends. Around the sides of the crack were the skeletons of what looked like large bats. They had seen some smaller versions of these flying mammals earlier in the journey, but none this large. She squatted down holding her lighted stone in front of her trying to get a better look inside. Within the crack, there was a large, smooth hole that was coated in what looked like mother of pearl.