Good Things: An Urban Fantasy Anthology

by Mia Darien

  Odin’s Hall.

  Once that sunk in, it sunk to her feet as her eyes moved back to the dead ground. The only way to get there was through. She felt the call of the trees on the other side like a longing, but everything between her and it sent a chill of terror. She couldn’t imagine walking over such a land, to feel nothing beneath her. Even the concrete of the city still had the song of the Earth under it, but this, she just knew instinctively would not feel like that.

  “Tom,” she whispered as she lifted a sneaker and set it on the grey, cracked dirt.

  As she had suspected, it felt of nothing. She suppressed a shudder as she made each foot move one step at a time. It had to be harder than simply crossing unpleasant scenery, so she was waiting every moment for some beast of old to leap out at her or a giant to come running down that hill.

  The first hint of something was far more subtle than that. A faint whisper came past her ear, like a voice on the breeze. She spun and looked, but there was nothing. She forced herself to keep walking forward. The whisper came past her other ear and she spun in a full one-eighty, but there was still nothing. Her heart felt like it had started skipping its beats while her breath shuddered in and out. Turning, she moved forward again.

  Then, all at once, the sound assaulted her. A maelstrom of whispers and shrieks and groans came at her like a tornado. She could just pick out words as she clutched her ears to either side of her head, trying to block them out as the pain in her ears drove her to her knees. She was crying before the ground rose up to meet her.

  “...you’re going to lose him...”

  “...he’ll die and you’ll be left alone...”

  “...you can’t live without him, but you will have to...”

  “...going to be taken from you...”

  “...be left alone...”

  “...will die...”

  “...gone...”

  “Stop!” she shrieked against the wind, but it did not listen. The words kept assaulting her and she felt physically battered.

  That’s when she realized that it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until she was on the other side, so the only way to get there was through. Even though she felt like her ears were bleeding, she forced herself to push back onto her feet. She started walking, then began running. Her face was wet and she could even feel her tears in her hair, but she kept running. She tried to ignore the voices, but they wouldn’t stop. Like being hit with metal rods, they drove hard into her.

  She tripped more than once, but every time she did, she kept running. She wouldn’t stop, because she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, she would die.

  With each moment, the trees grew closer. As she neared the edge of the wasteland, the voices became louder and their words harsher. So thick and so fast, she began to feel like she was pushing through a tangible cloud. The air itself was thick and her breathing became labored, like choking on sobs that weren’t coming.

  Her eyes remained hard on the trees, knowing somehow instinctively that if she could just reach the trees, the voices would stop.

  Putting her head down, she pushed ahead. She started screaming back at the voices to shut up, and she screamed so much that her voice became hoarse and incoherent to her own ears until the trees came to meet her. She ran so hard that she almost drove herself head long into one and fell to the ground just to stop, crashing in the wet grass.

  As she had known, the voices stopped as she fell on the forest floor.

  She stared up at the canopy, panting and gasping. There was a stitch in her side that made her want to cry again, but she had nothing left.

  It seemed like forever that she laid there, but Odin’s Hall was not here. It was on that mountain, and that’s where she had to go. To prove to him that she was willing to do whatever it took, she had to climb that mountain. To find the key to saving her husband’s life, she had to get through this forest. To save the key to her life and sanity, she had to get up.

  And so she did. She took one last rasping breath, she pushed herself up to her feet and started trudging through the trees. Her legs felt like lead. Jesse was a fairly athletic woman, but even she couldn’t have done all she did without feeling like she was about to die.

  She would not die. She would not stop.

  The forest felt so much better than the wasteland. She could feel the song of the living here, rather than the silence of the dead. She did not trust it, of course, for she knew that her test was not over. She still had more to do until she got what she wanted.

  Yet she continued to walk and nothing happened. She heard nothing and saw nothing, and it just made her anxiety and paranoia rise higher with each step. It was like watching a horror movie when you knew The Scare was coming, but you didn’t know what or how or when. You just knew that it was coming, and grew preemptively scared.

  Then she saw that she was coming upon a clearing. It looked almost like the one that Odin had come to her in, and she wondered what would be in it.

  She didn’t have to wonder long before she crested the edge and entered the clearing, where she saw another giant of a man sitting beside a giant of a wolf. The man wore jeans and a black t-shirt with bare feet, leaning back against the base of a tree with those long legs stretched out before him. She took in his long hair and goatee, as well as the giant grey wolf that lay beside him like a big dog. His arm rested over the wolf’s back, and when she saw the stump instead of a hand, she knew.

  “Tyr,” she said slowly, coming to a stop at the edge of the clearing. If he was Tyr, that meant the wolf was... “Fenrir.” She greeted the wolf son of Loki with respect as well, for he was a magnificent creature.

  “You are Jesse Dixon.” The god smiled, although she couldn’t find that it was the happiest or most welcoming of expressions. “You are here because you need something, and the gods are tired of granting favors that have not been earned.”

  “I’m here to earn it,” she stated brazenly. She knew that Tyr, god of things like justice and battle, only respected strength.

  “That has yet to be seen,” he replied. “You know my friend here.” He nodded toward the wolf, who was easily the size of a horse and who twitched his ear lazily. “You knew enough to summon the king of the gods, so you must know how I lost my hand.”

  She nodded. “I do,” she said. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. “It makes your friendship here a surprise.”

  That actually drew a short laugh from him. “We live in strange times now, don’t we?”

  “That’s hard to dispute.” Jesse inhaled deeply and held his gaze. “So, what would you have of me to prove myself?”

  “Do you have courage?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  He laughed again, the same short, near-bark sound. “That might as well prove that you’re a fool.”

  She felt herself bristle inwardly. God or not, he stood between her and her best chance to save her husband’s life. She would not be laughed at, nor would she be delayed. However, she knew she had no chance if she fought him. “I suppose time alone will tell.”

  Was that a look of approval in his eye? She didn’t risk hope. “I suppose it will.” Again, he nodded to the wolf. “Prove it.”

  Jesse lost her annoyance when she didn’t understand what he meant. It wasn’t until the giant wolf opened his mouth that she understood, and her stomach dropped into her feet. This was the wolf that had bitten off the hand of a god... What could it do to a mere human? If she felt like she had breathed shallowly before, she was sure that she stopped entirely now.

  She could live without a hand, right?

  Even as her brain made that resolution, her feet didn’t seem to agree. They were filled with concrete as she forced herself to take those steps closer to the creature. He remained as still as a statue, just waiting for her. Just as her hand was close enough to slide between those giant, terrifying jaws, she put her slender hand between those giant jaws. She winced, but refused to let her eyes shut.

  He hadn’t said for
how long, so she simply stood there and trembled from head to toe.

  Jesse stared at the face of the wolf. It stared back at her. As her hand trembled, he made no move at all.

  It was just as she was going to ask how long he expected her to wait when she saw the first twitch from the wolf. Suddenly, those jaws were shutting. It all moved in slow motion as she watched them begin to close, but some force she didn’t understand kept her from trying to tear her hand away. She knew that she would fail if she did, so she held firm and let out a small shriek.

  Just as the jaws closed, the non-corporeal teeth passed through her and the wolf vanished.

  She gasped and shook, unable to pull her hand back as she looked at Tyr. He was smiling, and this time, the expression was less dark. “Fenrir and I are not friends,” he said, his voice low like he was sharing a conspiracy. “Perhaps you do have courage. Climb the mountain, girl. Odin awaits.”

  With that, he stood from his indolent position and left the clearing.

  It took her a moment before she was able to swallow her heart and force her trembling body to move forward again.

  As she cleared the edge of the forest and came to the base of the mountain, she felt like she was breathing again. Barely. Putting her hands on her hips, she waited until she stopped feeling lightheaded. Lead bars were still in her legs and she knew her hands were still shaking, she could feel it on the inside.

  At the top of this hill was where she needed to be. She was almost there and she could almost feel him up there. His power radiated like a storm cloud and she felt it pull her. The metal in her legs and the shallow breaths in her chest could not stop her. She started walking.

  It was easy at first with the shallow incline at the base, but it soon became harder. The mountain rapidly became steep. The ground was dry and dusty, with rocks that came loose of their spaces too easily to use them as grips. It came to the point where she had to dig her hands directly into the dirt.

  Grit pricked underneath her fingernails. She coughed as the dust climbed down her throat, coming up in puffs as she panted from her exertion and couldn’t avoid inhaling it. She felt the strain in her muscles rapidly moving from sore and fatigued to painful. It felt as though her bones were going to break with each step.

  The mountainside was just shy of being impossible to climb without gear.

  It felt like the further she got, the further the top was. She began to despair of ever reaching it. How could she have thought she could do this? The gods themselves had literally set out these challenges, so she couldn’t imagine how she thought she’d be able to do this... It was too hard...

  She stopped right where she was, clinging to the side of the mountain. These thoughts got her nowhere, and she began to feel like she had when she heard the whispers and when she moved nearer to the image of Fenrir. This was another test. She had to get through. The only way to get there was through.

  Inhaling deeply, she looked up again. Suddenly, the hall seemed a lot closer.

  If she hadn’t been so exhausted, she would have smiled. Instead, she just started climbing again with renewed determination. The rocks still tumbled away from her grasp, tumbling down the mountain behind her. She stopped looking at the top and just focused on moving forward, hand after hand and foot after foot, until suddenly, she crested the top.

  There before her stood the Hall of Odin.

  After having collapsed for several long minutes just to find her breath and heart beat again, she pushed herself up and strode into the hall of the gods.

  When she opened the heavy doors, she had expected the revelry and drinking that one might hear about in a tale of the Norse. Yet it was perfectly silent. The sound of the door slamming behind her made her jump as she strode between the long, empty wooden tables. The tankards remained in their places, some overturned and some upright, plates scattered, all as though they had left suddenly.

  At the far end of the hall was a large but otherwise plain wooden chair, with a one-eyed man in a dark suit waiting for her.

  He rose as she approached.

  “I have made it to your hall, All-Father,” she announced. She was out of breath and wanted to collapse, and just weep, at any moment, but she would not fall just before the finish line. It was there before her, standing with an unreadable expression. He stepped down the short dais as she neared him.

  “Yes, you have,” he agreed. “You have earned the right to ask your favor.”

  Something inside her was suddenly suspicious. She had earned the right to ask, but he did not say he would grant it. “You know what I want,” she returned, her throat thick with her exhaustion and emotion. “I have passed your tests. Will you grant this?” Desperation seemed to flood her limbs, because she had nothing left to give. She might fall to her knees right at that moment, or die herself if he said no.

  He didn’t reply. Instead he stepped until he nearly pushed her back by his presence alone, but she did not relent.

  In a flash of movement she barely even saw, his hand was at her throat. She gasped in shock, grappling at his thick wrist but he did not relent. With just enough room to breathe, she still could feel her head growing light. Tears sprung up at the corners of her eyes. She simply had no strength to fight him as he practically slammed her back against one of the empty tables, knocking over mugs and pressing a plate into her back.

  “You would do anything,” he demanded, his voice still low yet now flooded with intensity bordering on anger. “Anything at all would you give for this man you say you love.”

  “That I do love,” she corrected, practically spitting in his fate. “I would have let the wolf bite off my hand to get here.” Tears flooding her throat made her breath even less, but she would not let go of the fire in her gaze as she stared at this god holding her by the throat. “I swore anything, and I will! Name it! If you say no, I will call upon you again. I’ll call upon Thor and Baldr and Freyr and all of your house until someone grants me this. I will not stop.”

  “You would call on Loki?” he said, the intensity suddenly gone.

  She didn’t reply right away. “No,” she finally said. “That silver tongue is not to be trusted and I would just as easily end up in Tom’s body and he in mine before I was granted the favor I have wished.”

  The stern countenance broke into a knowing smile, slight but real. “I like you, mortal. I will grant you what you ask and will return your man to you, hale and whole.”

  Her heart suddenly felt like it might burst, and she practically forgot he held her.

  “However—” he continued and she froze inside. “—there can be nothing granted without something given. Your heart is mighty, and it is what will truly grant the favor. From this day forward, the Norns shall weave your thread together will his, and a great deal of any luck they would have favored with you shall be used here. No road taken onward shall ever be easy, and there will be little more than existence for either of you without the other. You must be sure in your answer, for you will be nothing without each other and thus will forever be bound in more ways than your mortal mind could ever conceive.”

  She swallowed painfully, fighting against his still iron grip. Staring up into his single, pale-colored eye, she forced herself to not answer right away. She forced herself to envision a hard life with him compared to an easy life without. They were still young and marriages changed, ended, every day. They would wither away without each other, but might wither away with each other...

  No. Deep down in the very center of every cell of her body, every corner of her spirit, she knew that wasn’t so. She would be nothing without him, regardless of what the Norns wove.

  “I accept,” she whispered. “I want him back and I will live with nothing so long as I have him. Please, grant me the favor I have asked and I will pay that price.”

  “I hope you do not regret your choice,” he rumbled.

  “I won’t.” She spoke with confidence and her gaze remained unwavering on his.

  He smiled, and
the world went black. As she fell under, she thought she heard the sound of wooden needles clicking together.

  Jesse woke up in the forest where she started.

  She found herself on her back and as soon as consciousness entered her body, she sat up hard and fast, gripping her throat and hacking for air. When she finally felt like her throat and lungs were no longer burning, she looked around. It was still night. In fact, it looked like no time at all had passed. She began to doubt herself that it had been anything other than a dream, but her eyes fell on a black feather by her hand.

  As she lifted it and examined it, her phone rang.

  She answered it, both in a rush and in a daze. She recognized the number of Tom’s boss and she choked up instantly as she answered.

  “Where are you?!” he shouted. He seemed to realize that he was being too loud and his next words were quieter, more level. “I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour, but your phone kept going to voicemail.”

  “W-what’s wrong? Is i-it Tom?” she stammered.

  “Yes,” he replied. “He’s awake!”

  She stared ahead in shock for several long moments before she started sobbing. If her hand hadn’t been frozen around her phone, she would’ve dropped it.

  “Do you need a ride? Maybe you shouldn’t drive,” Marcus said, although he didn’t sound sure of himself.

  Jesse started to say no, but then she thought he might be right. She didn’t care about her car, she could come back for it. She told him where she was. He paused and asked what she was doing out there.

  “It’s a long story,” she said, her voice still thick as she pushed herself to her feet.

  They hung up and she walked to the street.