Tricked

strength wasn’t in his limbs anymore. Vidar yanked out his sword with a slurping noise, and the Druid poseur collapsed in the mud.
    They apparently knew enough about Druids not to leave it there. They didn’t want me healing from a wound that would be mortal to anyone else. So they all descended on the body and chopped it up into pieces with whatever gigantic, godlike phallus-weapon they had, far beyond my capacity to heal.
    » Yeesh. What a mess, « I said. » Cue the Chooser of the Slain. «
    » Yes, let’s finish this, « the Morrigan said, leaping off the tower and flapping through the rain as Vidar finally ceased his butchery and shook his fist at the sky.
    » Vengeance is miiiine! « he roared.
    I snorted quietly at him from my vantage point. » Dream on. «
    The Morrigan is a spooky creature by default, but she can turn up the spookiness to eleven whenever she wishes. Her eyes glow red and minor harmonics creep into her voice, vibrating on a frequency guaranteed to produce shuddering fits, liquid bowels, and tiny screams of fear. At least that’s what her voice o’ doom does to normal people. Gods are able to take it a little better. Still, they flinch. The Morrigan shifted to her human form about twenty yards away from the cluster of gods, a svelte seductress with milk-white skin and coal-black hair, and advanced toward them.
    » I have come for the Druid, « her voice boomed and scraped, and the gods jumped at the sound, crouching into defensive positions. They didn’t relax either when they saw that the Morrigan was unarmed—she was naked, in fact—so maybe they each had a brain after all. She didn’t need to be armed or clothed to do them serious harm. Indra’s thousand eyes were busy, presumably searching her for weapons.
    » Who are you? « Shango demanded. It was pretty easy to hear them, despite the distance and noise from the storm. They were all trying to intimidate one another, so they were using GodSurround Sound and scored a little reverb off the ceiling of clouds.
    » I am the Morrigan, the Celtic Chooser of the Slain, « she said, approaching them fearlessly. » The Druid’s shade is mine to claim, as is his sword. «
    » His sword? « Vidar spluttered. » That is mine by right of conquest! « He was a little late to claim it. The Morrigan was already picking it up.
    » It is the rightful property of the Tuatha Dé Danann. The Druid stole it from us. « She left out the part where she helped me steal it, I noticed.
    » And I won it of him. It belongs to me now, « Vidar said.
    » Be careful, little god, « the Morrigan’s voice grated, menace crackling in the charged air. » Do not mistake me for one of your Valkyries. You have slain the Druid and avenged your people, as was your right, but you may not tread on the rights of the Tuatha Dé Danann. «
    Vidar bristled. He didn’t like being scolded by a naked woman in front of all the macho thunder gods. If he let it stand, he would lose major testosterone points. Was he smart enough to let it go? He clenched his jaw, held out his left hand, and beckoned. » Give me the sword, woman, or I will take it. « Nope. Not smart at all.
    The Morrigan’s smile was wide and wicked as she settled into a defensive stance, Fragarach raised behind her head. » Come and take it, then. «
    Now he was neatly trapped in a prison of his own devising. Yet he still had the key; all he had to do was laugh at the Morrigan and say, » I was only joking. Begone with your faerie sword, I care not, « and he’d get to return to Asgard a hero, maybe even take over the joint. He could walk into Gladsheim and tell the remaining Æsir, » I slew the dude who slew Freyr and Týr and crippled Odin, « and then they’d fete him and praise him and he’d definitely get laid. The last thing he should do is listen to the voice of machismo and give battle to a goddess whose primary power is to choose who dies in battle . Did he think he was invincible somehow? Did he not understand that all the Norse prophecies were null, the Norns were dead and so were many of the gods who were supposed to fall in Ragnarok? He was no longer fated to kill Fenris in the final gore-spattered brouhaha. If my trip to Asgard and the butchered remains of Týr showed anything, it showed that the Æsir could now die at any time.
    But no, the dumbass charged. » For Odin! « he cried, thinking perhaps it was a lucky thing to say since it had worked so well against the fallen Druid. But the