by Kristie Cook
Chapter Thirteen
“PARDON?” ULL GENTLY LIFTED my chin with one finger, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“I can see things.” I cringed. “The future. Sometimes the past. Apparently some deranged Elf Man who wants me dead. I see things all the time—it’s like my brain just shuts down and goes into this different world, and sometimes the world looks a whole lot like your world. Last night, this insane elf dragged me to Ý dalir and tried to kill me, but my necklace shot light at him. He just disappeared, and I don’t know what happened to him.
“Another time, I was standing in this field with you, and I was ready to fight these awful monsters that were coming to kill us. Wait,” I added hurriedly when I saw the alarmed expression on Ull’s face. “I don’t just see bad stuff. Sometimes I see good things too—like this really pretty meadow and a pond with swans and a willow tree with silver leaves.” Ull forced a neutral expression, but only after I caught a glimpse of fear. I covered my face. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
I expected him to say something right away, but the room was deafening in its silence. I peeked from between my fingers—Ull was sitting still as a statue, staring into the distance with that forced look of calm. “Oh my God. You’re going to dump me.” I knew I shouldn’t have told him.
Ull shook himself. “Kristia, please. I am not going to dump you.” He gently tugged my hands away from my face and pulled me into his chest. “To answer your question, no. I do not think you are crazy. I think you have a very special gift—in Asgard, sight like yours would qualify you to become a Norn.”
“I don’t want to be a Norn. I just want to be normal. I hate my visions—they’ve kept me outside of everything my whole life, and I just want them to stop.”
“But they make you who you are. And who knows, maybe you were given this gift for a purpose.”
“Yeah, right. So I could never fit in, anywhere?”
“You fit with me.” Ull stroked my back gently. “I want you to tell me when you see these things. I do not like knowing that someone is frightening you, even if it is only in dreams. I am not entirely sure what to make of that...”
“You could write me off as a fruitcake.”
“I happen to like fruitcake.” Ull kissed the top of my head. I tilted my face up hopefully and he laughed. “Kristia, be good.”
“Fine,” I harrumphed. “You’re really not going to dump me because you think I’m crazy?”
“Who said I do not think you are crazy?” Ull ducked as I swatted at him. “No, darling, I am not going anywhere. I am afraid you are stuck with me for as long as you want me.”
“Good. Forever, then.” I snuggled in closer, practically wilting in relief.
“Forever.”
***
With each flip of my “Water Fowl Of The Week” desk calendar, I grew closer to Inga. I could go to her with just about anything, and she never judged me. Since I couldn’t exactly share Ull’s secret with my human friends, Inga was the only one I could talk to about dating a god. She didn’t completely understand—she’d fallen in love with Gunnar as a goddess in her own right—but she was a good listener. And at least she knew the whole truth.
One afternoon, I showed up at Inga’s house with full hands. Ull planted a light kiss on my cheek before he and Gunnar darted out to the driving range to blow off some midterm-exam steam. As they ran out, I stared at their matching red and blue argyle golf pants.
“Don’t ask.” Inga swept in, gracefully taking my contraband. “They say the pants are patriotic.”
“I think they’re kind of cute.”
“Young love is blind. Hello, mortal.” Her grin was infectious.
“Hello, goddess,” I teased back.
“Earl Grey and a Latte?” She nodded to the cups.
“Correct.” I dug in my bag and pulled out a grease-spotted package. “And this …” Inga’s eyes lit up at the sinful smell.
“Cupcakes!” Her squeal filled the room like a hundred bells. I could never get used to the ethereal sound. “Puff Pastries is my favorite bakery!”
“I know. I figured we could use reinforcements.” Our boy-free afternoon involved a marathon of terrible reality shows. So long as we were rotting our minds, we might as well throw in our teeth for good measure.
“Thanks!” Inga traveled to the kitchen so quickly, her gold tunic flew behind her thin frame. She returned in the same movement, with the cupcakes arranged on a square plate. Her trip had taken less than two seconds.
“Inga? What was that?”
“Oh. Are we still supposed to be acting human in front of you? Sorry.” Inga sat with deliberate slowness.
I had to laugh. “So you guys are fast?”
“Well I’m faster than most. Especially for a non-titled goddess. The Titleds get extra abilities.”
“You don’t have a title?” I hoped it wasn’t tacky to ask.
“Nope. Oversight on Odin’s part, I like to say.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because, Kristia. Obviously I’m supposed to have a title.”
“And what title would that be?”
“Domestic Goddess.”
“Naturally.” I had to smile.
We settled into the deep couch, sipping our drinks and eyeing the cakes. When I spotted a framed photo on the mantel, I realized I didn’t know how my new friends had gotten together. “When did you know Gunnar was the one?”
“No beating around the bush today. Forever on the brain?” I reddened—if she only knew. “Well,” Inga sipped at her latte, “I knew a lot earlier than he did, I think. We were best friends in school. He was the only one who was any sort of a challenge at fencing. ‘Course, I still beat him.” She smiled at the memory. “As we grew up, I fell for his naughty sense of humor. And it didn’t hurt that he became one of Asgard’s best warriors. So when that giant carried me off” she waved a hand. “Oh honey, don’t look so freaked out. Happens all the time. So when the giant showed up, Gunnar came to my rescue. I think that’s when it clicked for him, and it wasn’t long before I was off the market.” Her expression was angelic.
“What about Ull?”
“Well he’s lovely, of course, but far too sensitive for me.”
“No, I mean when did you meet Ull?”
“Oh,” she laughed. “Sorry! He joined our class when his mom married Thor. Poor guy. It had to be hard to move in with the scariest god. And our classmates were tough on Ull because he was so different. He was bigger than the rest of us, and shy. Gunnar took Ull’s side, picked him for partners on school projects. Of course, Ull’s temper saved Gunnar from more fights than he wants to remember. So … our pair became a threesome, and we’ve been that way since.”
“Ull has a temper?”
“Oh, yes.” Inga nodded seriously. “It’s mostly under control now but in a fight he’s the last one you want to be pitted against.”
I mulled that one over. “Thor is scary?”
“At first. He’s actually pretty nice if you get to know him. When we were kids, we’d just see the giant hammer and run.” She eyed my necklace. “That’s MjÖlnir at your neck, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “It was my grandmother’s. She always told me stories about the gods—myths, I thought back then. I can’t believe they turned out to be true.”
“You wouldn’t believe the stories that are actually true.”
“Speaking of that … I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but can I ask you something? It’s about Ragnarok.”
“Okay.” Inga sounded guarded. “But you know Ull doesn’t want me scaring you off.”
“Trust me, I’ve had more than enough reasons to be scared off.” Not the least of which was the deranged Elf Man. “If I was going anywhere, I’d have left by now.”
“Well, all right then. Go ahead.”
I took a sip of tea. “Well, it’s just … why do all my textbooks and the Internet say that Ragnarok happened, like, forever ago, when you guys talk about it like it’s s
till hanging over your heads?”
“Ull talked to you about Ragnarok?” Inga looked surprised.
“Not exactly. But he alludes to these people wanting his family dead and this dark future and all. I’m assuming he means Ragnarok.”
“Well, you assume right. And Ragnarok hasn’t happened yet. It’s coming, and most likely sooner than later.”
“But the Internet says”
“Oh, Kristia. Do you believe everything you read on the Internet?”
“No.” Kind of.
“We wrote those stories ourselves. Somebody, probably a jotun or a dark elf or some other troll, spilled to the humans about this battle that was going to destroy the realms. Naturally, the humans overreacted. We had to come along and clean up the whole mess, which we did by rewriting the stories to look like the battle had already happened and the existing humans were offspring of the survivors.” Inga bit into a cupcake. “Mortals are so dramatic. They’d have killed each other off in their panic, if we hadn’t stopped them. They gobbled up our little ‘myths’—anything to tell themselves they were safe.”
“So Ragnarok hasn’t happened yet?”
“Nope.”
“And that means …”
“It means it’s still going to happen. But we don’t know when, and it’s not worth worrying about. Now, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Back to your necklace.” Inga reached out to touch it. When her fingers brushed the cold silver, she recoiled as if she’d been shocked. Reaching out again, she held the charm gently. A look of reverence crossed her face.
“Kristia,” she breathed. “You said this was your grandmother’s. Do you know where she got it?”
This was getting weird. “Um … she said one of her relatives got it from a woman in her village named …” I searched my memory. “Ellie? Ellie Norna, I think.”
“Elsker! That sneaky Norn!” Inga laughed, a beautiful tinkling sound. “She’s the same rogue Norn who told Ull he’d meet you at Cardiff. She’s been plotting to get you together for longer than I thought. Kristia, your necklace is elfin made! It was a treasure of Asgard that disappeared years and years ago. Boy, I’ll bet Ull had a look on his face when he saw it. The love of his life he never wanted to meet, wearing stolen Asgardian property!” Her laughter rang throughout the flat. “Ull really didn’t tell you about this?” She rolled her eyes. “He is so determined to protect you from everything.”
I shook my head, alarmed. “I swear I didn’t steal it. My grandmother gave it to me!”
This only made Inga laugh harder. “Try telling that to Odin!” This couldn’t be happening. I could feel the anxiety working its way up. “No, no, Kristia. He won’t be mad at you. I’m sure Elsker had her reasons. It’s just that Odin’s spent hundreds of years wondering where that charm got off to. Its mate is in a museum in London—a silver charm with his mark, about the size of your hammer. Odin will probably think it’s cute when Ull turns up with the missing MjÖlnir around his human girlfriend’s neck.” She collapsed in a fit of laughter.
I wasn’t so sure Odin would be amused with the stolen necklace or the human girlfriend, but it was more than I wanted to worry about right then. “Why did you and Gunnar come to Earth?” When in doubt, deflect.
“Because Ull asked us to.” It was that simple. “There’s very little we wouldn’t do for each other. And speaking of Ull,” Inga tucked her legs under her as she leaned back into the cushions, “Are you at all anxious about dating a god? We’re not exactly light on the baggage—Ull especially. You’re the first girl he’s ever let himself get close to you know. Goddess or mortal.”
“Well …” It wasn’t like I could talk to Ardis or Emma about this. Inga was the only girl on Earth I could actually be honest with. “It’s overwhelming sometimes. I mean, Ull is perfect. He’s so smart, so thoughtful—he actually stopped traffic in Bibury to let an old lady cross the street. He dotes on Olaug; he’s ridiculously hot, and he’s got this antiquated sense of decency. I mean he has never, ever done anything remotely inappropriate with me. Ever. He’s just …” What more could I say? “I’m kind of afraid I’m not good enough for him.”
“Oh Kristia, stop that. You are plenty good enough for Ull. You’re smart enough to earn a spot at Wales’ top university. You’re a wonderful friend to me—and I’ve never had a human friend. And you’re strong in your own way; you’ve taken all of this in stride and never once complained.”
“But he deserves so much more. I’m no goddess.”
Inga’s eyes crinkled. “True. But you’ve done something no goddess could. You softened Ull’s heart.”
I looked up tentatively.
“Listen, I’ve known Ull for a long time. He’s the headstrong, overbearing brother I never knew I wanted. And for as long as I’ve known him, Ull’s biggest fear has been losing the people he loves. It’s why he closed his heart the day we learned Asgard was fated to fall.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When a class reaches a certain age, Odin comes to talk about Ragnarok.” Fire sparked across Inga’s eyes. “Odin tells a room full of children they are all destined to die for the greater good of humankind. It’s devastating news, but most of us figure Ragnarok is too far in the future to worry about. Not Ull—he never got past knowing he was marked and he refused to get close to anyone but Gunnar and I. He didn’t want to develop relationships he knew would end. I think it came from losing his birth father at such a young age. So Gunnar and I went on to fall in love and get married. And Ull never dated anyone. Ever. He had lots of chances, but he wouldn’t let anyone in.”
“That’s awful.” My heart broke for the boy who’d been too young to learn his fate. I was more grateful than ever for Inga, Gunnar, and Olaug—without them, Ull would have spent his life completely alone.
“But now he has you,” Inga said simply. “And you complement our trio perfectly. It’s almost as if you were born to be one of us. Well,” she paused, “maybe you were.”
“Um, yeah. I was born to be a god.”
“It’s not impossible, Kristia,” Inga said with disdain before her hands flew to her face.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, no. Ull would kill me. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this.”
“Inga, my immortal boyfriend is threatening to give up his godliness to live a human life with me, ending any chance he could have of defending himself at Ragnarok. If you know of another way, you have to tell me.”
“Oh …. shoot. Okay. But you cannot tell Ull I’m the one who told you.”
I held up my hand. “Girl Scout’s Honor.”
Inga took a deep breath before blurting out, “Ull doesn’t have to become a human for you to be together. You can become a god.”
A piece of cupcake lodged in my throat, and I coughed trying to free it. I’d pictured as much in my most recent Ragnarok nightmare, but I thought it was just a dream. “That’s not possible. Odin would never let a human become a god. Ull said he already asked your dad.”
Inga shook her head vehemently. “Ull didn’t tell you the whole story. Dad also told him a god once defected to be with a mortal, so Dad and Odin put together a test for a human to become a god. There was no way Odin was going to lose another warrior before Ragnarok, even if it meant letting a human into Asgard.”
I held my breath as she continued.
“The test is simple. First, a god must choose a human for his wife. Second, Balder must judge the human worthy of the title Protector of Asgard. Third, the human must relinquish her mortality. The formula’s been in place for centuries, but nobody knows about it. I figure Dad only told me because he knew your boyfriend would be too stubborn to invite you.” She shook her head at my expression. “Oh come on, do you really think Odin would let Ull go so easily? He’d much rather let you in than lose his best warrior. You watch—before this plays out you’ll be one of us.” My head spun as she finished. “Kristia Tostenson, yo
u are, plainly, the only human in the history of mankind who has a shot at becoming a god!”
***
I wish I could say I handled the news in stride. I spent the better part of that night staring at my ceiling, actively seeking its imperfections to avoid thinking about what I’d learned. When I’d discovered every crack and dimple, I moved on to scouring the walls, then counted the leaves of the tree outside my window. By the time I’d reached three hundred, seventy-four, I was no closer to sleep and had to accept the futility of my exercise. I gave my mind over to the obsession it had avoided all day and waited for the panic attack to come.
My stomach churned like a blade at a cheese factory while I replayed Inga’s words in my head. A shot at becoming a god. How was that even possible? I slowly worked through the ramifications. Superhuman abilities, Ull’s equal in every way. That sounded pretty nice. A life marked for death, unimaginable responsibilities. Not so good.
I’d never really thought about my death, what with my being eighteen and healthy. And I wasn’t so keen on the idea of dying at the hands of some bloodthirsty monster or being hauled off by a giant like Inga. Divine status, the power to control the elements. My limited imagination had barely let me play dress-up with Ardis when we were kids; I’d certainly never seen myself becoming immortal. Prejudiced Asgardians, knowing I would always be inferior. That was a hard one.
I already had something of a complex—I wasn’t the prettiest, the smartest, or the most coordinated among humans. How would I fare as a god? Ageless beauty, strength and grace. Well, that would certainly help with the inferiority complex. Leaving my family behind, losing my mortality. My throat swelled. Was I really willing to give up my parents and Ardis? And my mortality … was I really ready to end my life at eighteen?
True, it hadn’t been much of a life before Ull came into it. But I didn’t know the first thing about being an immortal. How could I possibly commit to it for an eternity? An eternity with Ull. My mind stopped. An eternity with Ull. That was all I wanted. Unending time with the man I loved. Whatever the costs, whatever the losses, would any of it matter as long as we were together?