Morgan's Fate

by Dana Marie Bell

  Morgan pointed to Kir. “Kir is Baldur, son of Odin and brother of Thor. And my uncle.”

  “Ah. Okay.” Skye put her head between her knees. “I think I’m going to puke.”

  He knelt at her side and began rubbing her back. She felt good beneath his palm, even trembling with fear. “Believe us now?”

  She looked so lost it almost broke his heart. “Where do I fit into all of this?”

  Morgan took hold of both her hands and held on tight. “You’re the only one who can explain our future.”

  “Where do you think you are going?”

  Oliver Grimm reined in Sleipnir as the deep, familiar voice rolled over him. His shoulders tightened, expecting the worst. After all, the man asking the question had given him nothing but trouble since Baldur took up the Godspear. Rina, sensing his agitation, pulled her blade.

  He had no desire to face the Guardian. Not now, and certainly not here, on the Bifrost Bridge. Here, Heimdall was the stronger of them and could easily refuse Grimm passage. Grimm would be forced to obey or be tossed from the bridge, his plans abandoned.

  And that just wouldn’t do.

  As it was, he’d have to arrange for something to befall the Guardian before too much longer. He couldn’t risk Heimdall blowing his horn, signaling the true beginning of Ragnarrok. If Heimdall took it into his head that Odin’s reign was over…

  He gritted his teeth. Technically, his reign over the Aesir and the Vanir was already over. His bastard of a son, Baldur, now held Gungnir, giving him supremacy over all the other gods. With Loki and Tyr whispering in Baldur’s ear, egging him on, it was only a matter of time before the younger gods that followed Baldur turned on Grimm once and for all.

  But that was an issue for another day. Today, he was off to see some very important ladies, and he couldn’t afford to be late. “I’m going to Yggdrasil.”

  The sense of tension in the air increased as Heimdall studied him with a cold, impartial gaze. “You’re going to see the Norns.”

  Grimm nodded. This was where Heimdall could fuck up his plans. Grimm would have to be honest. Lying to the Guardian now wasn’t an option. Heimdall would sense it, and it would all be over. “Yes.”

  He waited in silence, knowing this was it. If Heimdall kicked him out, Grimm would have to go with the next plan. Skuld would still die, but it would be far messier than he’d like. Getting to her now that she was behind Loki’s fucking wards would be near impossible. He’d have to wait, bide his time, and pray that she didn’t give them the information that they sought. If she did, they would finally have the information they needed to see to it that Odin’s life ended.

  He wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t afford to let them discover the true destiny of the gods.

  “You may pass.”

  He didn’t allow the relief he felt to bend him. He sat straight and tall, as befitted the true ruler of the gods. He nodded regally. Even if he couldn’t see the Guardian, the courtesy was ingrained. Even he was afraid of the man that would someday kill Loki. “Thank you, Guardian.”

  “Do not thank me, Odin. I know why you go to see the Norns, and I know what your plans are. Remember this, Father of Lies. It will be what it was meant to be.”

  “Not if I can help it, Guardian.” Odin kicked Sleipnir viciously, setting the horse galloping across the bridge toward Yggdrasil, and answers. Sleipnir whinnied in protest, but what could the dumb beast do but obey? It was a pity the rest of the Aesir and Vanir weren’t as obedient as his steed. None of this would have happened otherwise.

  Damn the Norns, and damn their prophecy to hell. If they hadn’t come forth from Jotunheim, he would have been the ruler of the gods for eternity, a golden age that all the gods had adored. They’d had gold aplenty, food enough to make even Thor satisfied, and women, ah women, soft and pliant and ripe for the picking.

  But, no. The Norns had to come forth from Jotunheim, taken one look at the World Tree and declared that mortals deserved more than what the gods had given them.

  How dare they place themselves above gods and men? They were nothing more than Jotuns, giantesses, no better than Loki. Yet they dared to spin the destiny of men and gods, for good or ill, sending their acolytes out to perform the tasks allotted to them. To some, like Baldur, they gave good fortune, determining that he would one day rule over a golden age he hadn’t earned. To others, like Odin, they gave nothing but strife, grief and blood.

  The Norns had come from nothing, yet they held his fate in their grasp. The only time he’d ever felt free had been when Fenris had been unable to kill him. That shining moment had lasted for two whole days.

  Then he’d remembered. There was more than one wolf in the world. Rina had scurried fast, efficient as always, readying for their trip to Yggdrasil and the answers both sides now sought.

  He should have killed them long ago, before prophecy had spilled from pretty Skuld’s pink lips. He would have, had it not been for the tie they’d somehow established with Yggdrasil. To destroy them would be to destroy the World Tree and everything associated with it. Odin would die, and everything he’d striven for would be for naught. The only attractive point of the idea was that all the others would die along with him. Jotun, Lios Alfar, Dökk Alfar, all would be stricken by the falling world branches, screaming into the night as their lives were snuffed out like a child’s birthday candles.

  If it came to it, if he absolutely could not win, Grimm was willing to chop the damn tree down himself. It would be worth it just to watch Tyr burn for stealing Gungnir from him and giving it to Baldur.

  Sleipnir whinnied again, the sound so loud it shook the bridge. Grimm grinned as Sleipnir took them over it faster than any could possibly hope to. None had ever been able to match his steed for speed. The day he’d persuaded Loki to give him the foal had been a hell of a triumph in more ways than one. The foal had proven to be swift, loyal…and utterly animal.

  And horses loved to nibble at apples, ensuring Sleipnir’s loyalties would forever be to Odin.

  He grimaced as Sleipnir’s hooves finally struck the sand and dirt that surrounded the World Tree. He hadn’t been able to give Sleipnir his favorite treat since Baldur received Gungnir. While Heimdall was allowing Odin over the Bifrost to speak to the Norns, he’d denied him access when he’d tried to go see Idunn to take more apples, proving once more that he truly did rule the Bifrost Bridge with an iron fist.

  Heimdall was meant to destroy Loki during Ragnarrok. If he had to die, Grimm hoped he lived at least long enough to see that.

  Sleipnir picked his way carefully over the loose sand and soil. They’d traveled this way many times before. The horse knew the route almost as well as he knew the way to Odin’s favorite home, Valaskjálf, where the high seat, the magical throne Hlidskjalf, rested. From there, Odin had been able to see the entire world, granting him almost the same gifts Heimdall had. But Odin couldn’t sit on the magic throne often, so, unlike Heimdall, there were things he missed.

  Important things like Loki taking Baldur’s place, so that Baldur lived through the death Odin had planned for him. Things like Tyr falling in love with Grimm’s granddaughter, Jamie, and handing over Gungnir to the one person who could stop Odin in his tracks, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

  Things like Fenris getting free of his chains.

  Grimm shuddered as they traveled across the roots of Yggdrasil. That had given him a nasty turn, knowing the wolf destined to kill him was free. But Fenris had been unable to harm him. Grimm had already won.

  Now all he had to do was ensure his victory by keeping Baldur and Loki from discovering any more of the truth than they already had.

  “Hail, Odin, All-Father. The Norns greet you.”

  Grimm reined in Sleipnir and bowed low. As much as he hated the triple bitches, it wouldn’t do to show it. “Hail, Urdr. How dost thou fare this day?” It always paid to butter up Urdr by speaking in her chosen tone. The Norn appreciated it, and was far more likely to give him the information he sought wi
thout a word battle that could take days.

  “I fare well, All-Father, thank you. And you?”

  Grimm gritted his teeth. He’d have to endure the pleasantries to get to the root of the problem. No pun intended. “I am well, great Urdr.”

  “Then come, Odin. Join us in our repast.” The redhead smiled at him and gestured for him to dismount. “Your companions are welcome to join us as well, for what we have to say may impact them as well.”

  Grimm dismounted, helping Rina off Sleipnir. “I fail to see how my horse will affect the outcome of fate, dear Urdr.”

  Urdr lifted her hand to hide her smile. “Indeed, Odin. Indeed.” She bowed them beyond the curtain that led to where she and her sisters made their home by the well Urdarbrunnr, the Well of Fate. It was from there the Norns took the water they poured over the roots of Yggdrasil, keeping the World Tree green and healthy.

  He’d once toyed with the idea of poisoning the well, but the knowledge of what would happen should he do so had stopped him. He shivered hard. Nothing, not even his impending death, could get him to tamper with Urdarbrunnr. The fallout would be far too great. If Grimm fell in battle with Fenris, at least he would still exist in Valhalla. Some part of him would continue for eternity.

  But if he poisoned Urdarbrunnr…

  Well. Best not to think on that.

  Urdr led them to the base of the tree, where Verdandi sat spinning. “Sister, the All-Father is here.”

  Verdandi looked up with an expectant smile. “Odin, Rindr. Nice to see you again.” She glanced behind them and frowned at Urdr. “Where’s Sleipnir?”

  Urdr’s welcoming smile faded. “He bides beyond the veil to our home, sister.”

  “Oh.” Verdandi shrugged. “His loss.”

  “Indeed.” Urdr sat beside her sister and adjusted her skirts. She held out a cup to Rina. “Tea, dear Rindr?”

  “Thank you, Urdr.” Rina was charming Urdr the same way she did everyone else. What would have been different had he met her first? Damn Frigg and her ways. Baldur would have been Rina’s child, and the prophecy would have been completely different.

  “Tea, Odin?”

  Why not? It had been a long trip from Midgard to here. “Thank you, Urdr, you’re too kind.”

  “What brings you to us, great Odin? What is it you seek?”

  He saw no reason to beat around the bush. They would already know why he was there. “Skuld, of course.”

  Verdandi muttered under her breath as Urdr scowled. “Of course. As soon as she was found, we became aware of her presence in the world.”

  “Which is not what we told those idiot sons of Thor when they got here.” Verdandi snickered. “You should have seen the looks on their faces.” She batted her lashes at Odin. “Oh, whatever shall we do? The future is missing. We’re doomed.” She placed the back of her hand against her forehead, sagging dramatically before breaking out into giggles.

  Odin blinked, startled. “Magni and Modi were here?” If Magnus and Morgan had come here, then the others knew the prophecy had been interpreted wrongly.

  No wonder they were holding so tightly to Skuld. The woman hadn’t done any of the usual things she’d done since falling to Midgard, or she would already be his.

  “Yes, they were.” Urdr sniffed disdainfully. “Great brutes they are, who seek to take Thor’s place. As if any could.” Verdandi nodded, straightening up and returning to her spinning. “The twin sons of Thor may be fated to wield Mjolnir, but they will never live up to their father’s greatness.”

  Grimm nodded sadly, even though he disagreed. Thor had been one disappointment after another, but he could hardly say so to two of his greatest admirers. “I know, and I regret that my blow was the one that took him from us.”

  Urdr patted his hand. “It is what it was meant to be, All-Father. Of that, we are certain.”

  “What did Magni and Modi ask you, great Urdr?”

  Urdr shrugged. “They wished to know the prophecy, great Odin.”

  Shit. Just what he didn’t want to hear. “And you sent them away with their wish unfulfilled.”

  “Indeed.” Urdr handed Rina a plate of tea cakes. “But we know why you are here. You wish to know why Skuld has lost her memories.”

  Verdandi snorted. “Of course he does, because he’s not stupid.”

  Urdr scowled at her sister before smiling once more at Grimm. “Skuld sought to change that which will be, and in doing so angered the one who placed us in guardianship over the Well of Fate. Her punishment was to lose that which she most treasured.”

  “And that would be?” Odin bit into a surprisingly tasty cake. “This is good.”

  “Thanks. I got the recipe off of Martha Stewart’s website.”

  “Sister, please.”

  Verdandi rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. Keep thee-ing and thou-ing them to death, I have a life to spin. Pain in my ass.”

  “Skuld lost her future.”

  Odin choked on the sweet treat. “What?”

  Urdr nodded. “She lost that which made her what she is. In tampering with fate, she was lost to it herself.”

  “She’s mortal? For real?” Oh, that would be sweet, poetic justice. Odin was certain he knew exactly which prophecy she’d tampered with. The knowledge that she was paying for such a gross abuse of power was sweeter than the cake on his tongue.

  “No, not mortal. But…lessened. She shall never again sit beneath the branches of Yggdrasil and sip the cool waters of the well. She has changed her fate by tampering with yours, and the price she pays now is greater than you could possibly imagine.”

  Above them, Yggdrasil trembled.

  Grimm eyed the swaying of the World Tree’s branches with some misgiving. It was a sign of Ragnarrok that the tree itself moved. “So Tyr can’t find out the true prophecy?” Of course, neither could Grimm, but that was beside the point.

  “He can, if she remembers who and what she once was.” Verdandi looked at the life thread she’d spun and frowned. She picked up a pair of shears and snipped the thread, ending the life, a job that had once belonged to Skuld. “If that happens, she’ll be able to interpret the prophecy for them, or at least most of it.” She glanced up at him from under her lashes. “If that happens, they’ll know everything you do.”

  Grimm growled. “Then she must die.”

  Rina laid her hand on his arm, stilling him. “Why did you want Sleipnir here?”

  Good question. They’d been rather upset not to see his horse. “Yes, why?”

  “Because what was lost shall once again be found, and when it is, the next step of the prophecy will be fulfilled.”

  “And Sleipnir is tied to this somehow?”

  Urdr giggled behind her hand. “Intimately.”

  “Really?” He’d have to keep a closer eye on his horse. The beast was smarter than most, but had none of the shape-shifting abilities that Loki’s other children had. And he wasn’t spoken of at all in Ragnarrok, while both Jörmungandr and Fenris, his half-brothers, were. “Now, isn’t that interesting.”

  Sleipnir would be watched. If the last of Loki’s children was going to betray him, then Odin would find a way to do without his services. Permanently.

  “How will he be tied to the prophecy?” Rina, bless her heart, had kept her head, asking the question he should have.

  “The Guardian shall slay the Trickster.” Urdr ignored Verdandi’s scowl.

  Grimm couldn’t contain his glee, not that he wanted to. “Oh, one of my favorite parts of the prophecy.”

  Urdr giggled. “Indeed. And it shall be his own doing.”

  Even better. Loki would die soon, and Grimm wouldn’t have to lift a finger to achieve it.

  Chapter Four

  A shiver ran down Skye’s spine as she settled down in the Tate-Saeters’ spare bedroom. She had a lot to think about. What was real, and what was false? Everything she thought she knew was turned upside down. The only thing that had felt at all normal was her attraction to Morgan, and even that she wa
s questioning.

  The Norse gods were real, and they thought that she had something to do with the insanity that was their lives.

  She had enough craziness in her life, thank you very much. She didn’t need theirs on top of her own. She’d leave in the morning. She needed to get away from them before they found a way to abuse her gifts, or worse, keep her locked here forever.

  They thought she was the future, but all she had was a past, a past none of the people in the other room could possibly understand. Not even the super-luscious Morgan.

  Her parents and aunt hadn’t believed her when she’d told them about the dreams. They’d shushed her, told her to hide that part of herself for fear others would think she was insane. They hadn’t listened when she told them that they would die if they drove off that day. She’d been hysterical, inconsolable, only leaving the living room when her mother sent her to her room. She’d run, hidden in her room until they left, ignoring her father’s pleas to say good-bye and her mother’s soft, soothing voice, trying to calm her down.

  Her Aunt Maria hadn’t been so forgiving, especially when Skye refused to recant her prediction. She’d told Skye that she was wishing harm on her family and had punished her severely, locking her in her room, denying her anything except trips to the bathroom and the most basic food. Maria had only relented when word came back that her parents had, indeed, died in a car accident.

  Her aunt had looked at her differently after that. Things between them had never been the same. Skye had left once she was eighteen and hadn’t looked back. Skye hadn’t spoken to her in years, not since her aunt called her cursed.

  Skye wasn’t cursed. She wasn’t some punishment from the gods, or possessed by the devil. She’d done her research when and where she could sneak away for it. With the help of the few friends left to her, she’d discovered the truth.

  Skye was psychic. The term for her particular gift was precognition, dreams and visions of the future she couldn’t always control. Like the prophetic words she’d spoken to Frederica Grimm, sometimes things just popped out without conscious thought.