“We found this girl wandering through our lands,” Dzelarhons had said moments earlier, as that day’s Potlatch battle was about to begin. The goddess stood beside the post where Epona was bound, unconscious.
Thor’s face twisted when he saw her, but he stayed silent. Even so, his reaction did not escape the Haida goddess.
“Skin that pale and hair that golden do not exist in this part of the world,” Dzelarhons continued in the divine tongue. “I can assume you know this girl, yes?”
“I have never seen her in my life,” Tyr answered immediately.
“Then may I assume you will not care if we kill her?” the Haida goddess asked again.
“Not at all,” Freyja replied without hesitation—only to be grabbed by the shoulder by Thor.
“Hold on a damn minute!” Thor bellowed. “You mean to kill innocents on these lands? I expected better than the barbarians we know from the other side of this world—”
“What in hell are you talking about, Thor?” Freyja hissed, almost whispering. “Since when do you care about the lives of strangers?”
“I’m with Thorsy,” Freyr added, raising his voice toward the Haida goddess. “We’re not allowing the blood of some poor innocent little girl, ?”
Dzelarhons laughed and turned to look at her lord, Y’aahl. After a brief exchange, she faced the Norse gods again and—now speaking in her native language—addressed the entire audience watching the day’s combat.
“My esteemed subjects and Haida brethren,” she proclaimed loudly. “We found this witch in our territories, cursing our sea so we can no longer fish. Therefore, we have decided to execute her.”
“As you can see, she belongs to this group of demons who have proven stronger than we believed,” she continued. “But today we shall shatter their morality, by ending their ally before their eyes when this event concludes.”
The crowd erupted into insults, screaming at Epona—who could not hear them, still unconscious.
“I don’t understand a damn thing they said,” Tyr muttered, perfectly stoic, “but I’m guessing they’ll kill that girl if we lose this fight.”
“But this will be the final event,” Dzelarhons roared, and the crowd began cheering, drunk on her words. “After today, the demons will die—when I personally, together with the three strongest Haida gods, defeat these cursed demons!”
Many had begun to lose hope of beating the Norse, because the gods of Asgard were terrifyingly strong. They had even defeated Haida gods without much difficulty—despite the anti-divinity barrier.
“Kaiti—my husband, the great bear warrior!” Dzelarhons shouted.
A man appeared on the platform where she stood beside the bound Epona. He threw his arms wide and roared like a bear, sending the audience into a frenzy.
“And on the other side,” Dzelarhons continued over the howling cheers, “the brother gods of death—T’axet and Tia!”
“Those guys…” Freyja said, surprised, watching the three men display themselves atop the altar where Epona was tied. “They look strong.”
Dzelarhons gestured to the translator. He stepped forward to the railing above the arena.
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“Finally they’re gonna translate what they’re sayin’, ?” Freyr said, sounding genuinely relieved.
“The final event will be held upon the sea,” Dzelarhons announced, while the man translated for the Norse gods. “We will create a lake in this area. Each of you will build a ship and choose your soldiers to defend it. If the demons’ ship is sunk, they will lose and be delivered as sacrifice—after we kill the girl.”
“Of course,” she concluded with a laugh and a flick of her hand, “there will be no other outcome. Today these demons will lose and die by our hands. If our ships were to sink, we would lose—but that will never happen.”
“Build a boat?” Thor asked. “Any of y’all know how to do that?”
All three shook their heads.
Then a group of people tossed piles of pine and oak logs and coils of rope down to the Norse gods.
“Demons,” Dzelarhons added—this time in the divine tongue—“use those logs and build your ship, so you may see we are fair in our combats.”
Thor and the others stepped to the wood and rope. Doing the best they could, they began assembling a boat—using their hands and fists like saws and hammers.
In the end, they produced a flimsy raft with a poorly made dragon face at the prow. The entire audience burst into laughter at the pathetic attempt.
Then the whole field began to flood. Water surged up from beneath the ground at terrifying speed. The Norse gods leapt onto their badly built raft at once.
Within minutes, a lake had formed where the gods had been fighting.
Above, the drummers began pounding again. Four Haida warships appeared, packed with fully armed rowers. Each also carried archers.
They were long ships with prows painted red and black, trying to imitate a raven’s face. Each ship was commanded at the prow by one of the gods Dzelarhons had named. Quickly, they circled the tiny Norse craft.
“And they still think this game’s gonna be fair,” Freyja thought sourly, while the others took positions at each corner of the raft to defend it.
Y’aahl, still seated on his throne, lifted a hand. The drummers struck their instruments with brutal violence.
The translator shouted, “Forward!” in Haida, and the entire crowd screamed in unison.
“Well,” Thor yelled, “time to quit playin’ and use our totemas!”
The Norse gods nodded.
Thor, Freyr, Freyja, and Tyr invoked their totemas at once. A blinding light washed over the improvised circus, and the lake itself churned into waves.
Dzelarhons saw it and understood the gods would now fight at full power. She ordered her men to sink the Norse boat immediately.
The Haida ships opened fire—arrows ripping toward the raft—while the rowers hurled massive rocks tied to ropes, meant to smash the flimsy craft apart.
But Thor and the others—now empowered by their totemas—began batting the stones away and swatting arrows aside, refusing to let their boat be destroyed.
“Thor,” Tyr called out, deflecting a barrage, “when you said that girl is from Athena’s group… you meant Orniskem?”
“That’s right,” Thor answered. “Athena promised Loki and me she’d support us in this search.”
“Yeah, I knew that,” Freyja added, “but I thought they’d ditched us, meow.”
“Still,” Freyr said, skeptical even as he fought, “that little girl doesn’t look very strong, Thorsy. Can we really trust a girl who couldn’t handle a few simple Celtic gods, ??”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Thor admitted. “But if we rescue her, we’ll learn more about what’s going on.”
Then the thunder god raised Mjolnir.
“Do it now, Freyr!” Thor roared.
At that moment, several rocks slammed into the raft and finally shattered it—just as the four gods launched themselves into a huge leap.
As the weak Norse construction broke apart on the lake, a massive vortex opened beneath it.
“By the raven—what is that?” Dzelarhons demanded, staring at the enormous whirlpool forming in the water, pushing at the Haida ships and knocking them off balance.
Freyr, still in midair, recited a mantra:
“Sigl Skíeblaesins.”
From the whirlpool rose a gigantic ship with a dragon prow.
It was so vast the four Haida warships could have fit inside it.
The ship was entirely golden. Its sail bore the Norse image of a boar. Along both port and starboard, rows of shining shields—bright as mirrors—jutted outward. The dragon at the prow was red, with piercing blue eyes.
The four gods landed atop the ship, and in unison they attacked the tiny Haida vessels with their powers.
Thor called down a lightning strike on one ship, obliterating it.
Freyr unleashed a beam of light that burned another to ruin.
Freyja formed a spear of light and shattered a third.
Finally, Tyr released a red arc from Tyrfing that split the last ship and sent it sinking.
“We are the gods of Asgard, Haida people!” Thor shouted at the top of his lungs as enemy ships broke apart and men fled swimming through the wreckage. “Remember our faces—’cause we’re fixin’ to be your new masters!”
The golden ship Skidbladnir was one of the treasures of the god Freyr.
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