Goddess: A Runes Book

by Ednah Walters

  Echo followed her meekly. I had a feeling no one around here stood up to her. I couldn’t help overhearing part of their conversation.

  “Why didn’t you warn us, you naughty boy? The Golden One wants a big welcome home party for Einmyria.”

  “She heard about Celestia and insisted on coming. Once Cora… Einmyria makes up her mind about something, there’s no stopping her.”

  Maera chuckled. “Stubborn like her ma. Now I need to get everything ready for her. Her chambers, her…”

  I tuned out their conversation and focused on my surroundings. The guards appeared to have doubled. Dressed in black pants, shirts, tabards, and cloaks, except for the green band around the sleeves of their shirts, they looked fierce. Most were taller than average, and none bothered to hide their interest as they stared at me. Weren’t guards supposed to be stiff or at least pretend not to see people? These might not smile with their mouths, but their eyes said they were happy to see me.

  Starting to sweat, I removed my gloves and shrugged off my coat. The room was interesting. It had giant black slate pillars with snakes, dragons, and wolves etched along the column. The top of the pillar continued to the ceiling, the details breathtaking. The floor was also made of black slate with shades of gray striations. The stained glass windows, depicting various battle scenes with men in armor, giants, wolves, snakes, and dragons were done in black and shades of gray, too. Because the windows were closed, beautiful sconces on the walls bathed the room with golden light. There was an understated elegance to the décor. Despite the lack of color, the place was warm and welcoming.

  I stopped when I saw the throne. The seat was wide and black with snake carvings along the arms and the high back. Semicircular steps led to it. Several black cushions and pillows covered the seat. It could seat more than one person. To the right was a smaller chair that was not as elaborately decorated. Did Baldur share the throne with the goddess, or did he sit on the smaller chair?

  I still didn’t know what to call them. God and goddess seemed stiff and impersonal. Hel and Baldur were too presumptuous. And Mom and Dad were too personal. I already had those on Earth.

  Maybe I should take my cues from Eirik. Poor Eirik. What he must be going through. I glanced back and realized I’d walked a lot farther than I’d thought. Echo and Maera were now talking to a male Dwarf with red hair and a bulbous nose. He grinned when our eyes met. The warm welcome from the staff made me feel a little less apprehensive. Were my parents going to be happy to see me, too?

  I caught the eye of the nearest guard. I hoped they spoke English, too. “Where’s Eirik?”

  “The Shining Star’s quarters are this way, young goddess,” he said and pointed to a hallway.

  “Can you take me to him, please?”

  He bowed. “It would be my honor.”

  I followed him into a hallway with colorful murals and paintings of more battle scenes with giants, Dwarves, and Asgardians. I assumed the fighters with flowing robes were Elves. We reached the end of the hallway and entered a rotunda with huge marble statues and a gorgeous mural on the high ceiling. There were more guards in the room. Unlike the others, they wore green tabards and the inner lining of their cloaks was also green. They didn’t smile, and the confusion on their faces when they saw me said they hadn’t heard of my arrival. But something about me had them bowing.

  “Don’t bow, please.”

  “There you are,” Echo said from behind me, and I turned. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “The guard is taking me to Eirik. Is everything okay?”

  “Maera wanted to know what you like to eat and drink, whether to put you in your parents’ quarters”—he indicated the widest hallway off the rotunda—“or your personal quarters, which are not ready, or Eirik’s.” He indicated the second hallway. Both had guards.

  “Yours,” I said, and he scowled. Jeez, he needed to lighten up. “I don’t care where I sleep, Echo.”

  “We need to wait for Maera and your parents in the Throne Hall.”

  “No. I want to see Celestia first,” I said and started toward the hallway he’d indicated led to Eirik’s quarters. The guards stepped aside and bowed, letting me pass.

  “Damn it, Cora. Stop.”

  “We are already here, Echo. She would not be in a coma if it weren’t for me. I don’t care what anyone says. This happened because of Dev, and it’s my fault.”

  “Tell them to let me pass,” he said, and I glanced back to find the guards blocking his path. Echo looked thoroughly annoyed.

  Surprised by the guards’ actions, I walked back. “Let him through, please.” The guards didn’t hesitate. “Don’t ever do that to him. He is with me.” Confusion flashed in their eyes. Because of Echo’s stupid stance, I couldn’t tell them he was my boyfriend. “He is my personal bodyguard.” They frowned. Bet that confused them even more. They were the guards while Echo was a Grimnir. Frustrated, I added, “Don’t ever stop him when he comes looking for me, please.”

  “These quarters are private to your family. For security purposes, the guards have every right to stop anyone from entering them,” Echo cut in before the guards could respond.

  “I don’t care. You get a free pass.” I swept the guards’ faces. “He is my…” Soul mate. Love of my life. The other half of me who was refusing to claim me. “Friend,” I finished. Thoroughly annoyed I had to introduce him as a friend, I whipped around and marched to Eirik’s quarters. The door was slightly open.

  “Cora!”

  “Don’t! I hate that I can’t claim you, so don’t try to placate me with words. Allow me the right to be angry and frustrated with the situation.” I glanced over my shoulder at him and wished I hadn’t. There was so much frustration in his eyes I knew this wasn’t easy for him either.

  Sighing, I pushed the door open and entered a room with another beautifully done mural on its walls. There was something familiar about the landscape. On the other side was a sunset over the ocean, the waves and sand on the beach so detailed I expected the waves to actually sweep into the room.

  An arched doorway led to a dining room, and the murals covered several doors, seamlessly blending them with the wall. I only realized they were doors when I noticed the knobs. One was partially open, and a voice filtered through it. Echo indicated it with a nod, and I headed that way. No one responded when I knocked, so I pushed it open. The room was huge, and ahead was a giant, canopy bed. Celestia lay in the middle, the covers pulled up to her neck.

  She looked so fragile and just as pale as the last time I’d seen her. Guilt weighed heavily over my heart. Eirik sat on a chair by the bed, his eyes locked on her face. It was his voice I’d heard. He was still talking to her but stopped when he realized they were not alone and looked up. My chest squeezed, my guilt shooting through the roof. His eyes were glazed as though he was in pain, and he must not have shaved since Sunday because he had a scruffy beard.

  “Cora? What are you doing here?” He sounded like crap, but at least he was coherent.

  I moved closer. “I’m here to help. How is she doing?”

  “The same. Was I supposed to pick you up, or did I already do it and just forgot?”

  “It’s okay. You are needed here.” I touched his hair and immediately moved to his shoulder. His hair was greasy, and he smelled awful. When was the last time he’d bathed? I moved to the other side of the bed and felt Celestia’s forehead. She was cool to the touch. Should they take her to the hospital? Was she getting enough fluids here?

  “Eirik?”

  “Father and Mother will be happy to see you,” he mumbled without looking up. He went back to what he’d been doing—watching Celestia. “Stjärna mín,” he whispered, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Come back to me.”

  Listening to him was heartbreaking. I sat on the lounge on the other side of the bed and took Celestia’s hand. I’d been around old and sickly people at the nursing home and could tell when someone was slipping away. Celestia was, and it was
my fault. Her breathing was shallow and her heartbeat weak.

  Echo slid beside me. Having him close steadied me, and I leaned against him. He rubbed my back, and for a moment, we stayed that way and listened to Eirik’s pleas. Tears filled my eyes. Saving Dev did this. Had it been worth it? To lose a life to save another?

  Then Echo stiffened.

  “Einmyria,” came from the doorway before I could find what caused his reaction. His arm dropped from my shoulder, and he jumped up. His reaction would have annoyed me if my focus weren’t on the new arrival.

  A blond man who could be in his mid-to-late forties stood in the doorway. Baldur. He was the spitting image of Eirik, except his hair. Eirik’s was like Chex Mix, a blend of brown and blond. Baldur’s was pure gold, like mine. I glanced at Echo. He nodded encouragingly. Swallowing, I stood on shaky legs.

  “You can do this,” Echo whispered. “I believe in you.”

  “Father?” I asked, not sure whether to hug him or curtsey.

  Baldur laughed and opened his arms. “Yes, Einmyria. I’m your father. Come here, elskr mín.”

  He met me halfway across the room. I closed my eyes and inhaled as we hugged. He smelled nice and was warm. I still wasn’t sure how things worked in this realm, but he felt real. I’d inherited his hair color. Why had the Dwarves mentioned my face, nose, and mouth? They looked nothing like his.

  I opened my eyes, and my gaze met hers.

  The goddess.

  My mother.

  Chapter 10. Mother

  Half of her was covered with black runes, which zipped around. Her hair on that side was white and her eye black. Her other side was porcelain and flawless, and very much familiar. I recognized the arched eyebrow, pert nose, and even the slight upturned lips. I saw the same features whenever I looked in the mirror. Hers were more refined and defined, making me a pale copy of her, but I didn’t care. I saw myself in her.

  Her chin went up, the runes on her face moving faster. She was tall with a regal bearing, her green gown clinging to her curves. I had her body type, too. Hips, tiny waist, and some serious boobs. While Baldur had a presence that radiated warmth, she had an aura of cool, calm authority. She was the ruler of this realm and looked it. The scepter with a green crystal at the top and the black cloak all added to her presence.

  “Go to her,” Baldur whispered. “She needs to know you’re not scared of her.”

  I wasn’t. Echo had helped me take that first, difficult step toward embracing the new me, the daughter of a god. And now my father was asking me to take another. Claim my place as Goddess Hel’s daughter. At least, that was how I saw it. With her, I had a feeling it was going to take a leap of faith. She could very well reject me if the blanket hadn’t convinced her. Those shoulders, that regal bearing, and the way the cloak fell to the floor all said she was the woman in my vision.

  I stepped away from Baldur and started toward her, expecting her to close the gap between us or meet me halfway. She didn’t. She stayed on the exact spot, her hand gripping the scepter, eyes searching my face.

  A girl already pretended to be me once, so she was probably being cautious. I glanced over my shoulder, and Baldur smiled. Eirik had inherited his personality. My eyes met Echo’s. I saw the love in his eyes even though he was not ready to proclaim it to all the realms. Encouraged by it, I continued walking toward my biological mother.

  I stopped an arm’s length away and studied her, my heart racing. I knew it was up to me to break the silence, and I planned to do it my way. She could either laugh in my face, or accept me.

  “For years, I’d stare at my reflection and wonder why I didn’t look like my parents. I thought I was a changeling, a throwback to their parents or grandparents, except my hair. Mine is more golden than Mom’s, but I chalked that up to old age. I insisted there were some similarities where there were none. Now I know why I look nothing like them.”

  “Why?” the goddess asked, her voice deep and commanding, nothing like Mom’s.

  “I inherited everything from you. Well, almost everything. I have your eyebrows,” I said.

  Hers shot up. “Really?”

  Man, if I had zero confidence, that one question would have floored me. But I could hear my mother’s voice telling me how the goddess had mourned me and loved me all these years. I was counting on that love even though my chest hurt and my stomach had a huge knot in it.

  “Really,” I said, lifting my chin, trying to imitate her regal bearing. I tapped the edges of my eyebrows. “I pluck the areas closer to my nose because I like to be flawless, but yours show me I should leave them alone.”

  Her lips twitched. “Anything else?”

  “Our noses turn upward just a little.” I grinned. “I think it’s cute.”

  “Me too,” she said, one blue eye twinkling, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the runes on the other cheek were slowing down.

  “I got your lips, too, though yours are more defined. Side by side, a blind person could tell I’m your daughter. You know, just in case you were thinking I’m an imposter. Although, I think the blanket must have removed whatever doubts you might have had.”

  Her lips twitched again.

  “I’ve also been told I’m stubborn, opinionated, and driven. I hope I can thank you or blame you for some of those.”

  Her blue eyes grew teary. “If I’d known you were alive, Einmyria, I would have done everything to find you and bring you home. I would have sent every reaper to scour Midgard the way I did with Eirik.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

  “Don’t cry.” Tears rushed to my eyes. “Please.”

  I wasn’t sure who moved first, but I was finally in her arms. One hand pressed the back of my head to her chest as she hugged me close. My arms tightened around her. Something fell with a thud, and I knew she’d dropped her scepter.

  “Welcome home, Daughter.” Her voice shook. “To hold you in my arms again, feel your breath, and hear your heartbeat is more than I ever hoped for. Dreamed of. My baby is home.”

  And the dam broke. Mine.

  It was a while before she leaned back and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks with a scented handkerchief, the gesture gentle.

  “Look at you. You are everything I’d hoped for in a daughter. You are beautiful and poised, and yes, elskr mín, you get your stubbornness from me. Opinionated is just an impolite way of saying you refuse to be silenced because you have something important to say.” She palmed my cheeks and pressed a kiss on my forehead. “As for being driven, that’s something fostered. So you’ll have to thank your parents in Midgard for that. I’d love to meet them and thank them for everything they’ve done for you.”

  She just called Mom and Dad my parents. The second surge of tears started. “They’d love that, too.”

  “We’ll discuss it later. Right now, I want to look at you and know everything about you. It’s okay to call you Einmyria or should I call you Cora?”

  “Einmyria is perfect. It’s a beautiful name.”

  “I chose it. It means ashes. How long can you stay?”

  “For as long as you want me to.” I glanced over my shoulder at where Eirik was keeping vigil. Baldur had joined him while Echo had disappeared. I focused on Eirik. “How’s he doing?”

  “Terribly. He’s not eating or sleeping well. He hasn’t exercised in days, and he needs to fly or he becomes impossible to deal with. Let me hold you one more time.” She hugged me again. My eyes met Baldur, who watched us with a broad grin. When the goddess leaned back, she put an arm around my shoulder and lifted her hand. The scepter flew from the floor, returning to her.

  “How did you do that?” I asked.

  “Magic. I have so much to learn about you and to teach you. How did you know I took your baby blanket? You were not there when I visited.” She led me to the dining room and pulled out a chair. She sat and indicated the adjacent one, watching me intently. “And when I returned it, you were fast asleep.”

  “I saw you in a vision,” I said, ma
ybe to make her proud of my ability or because I didn’t want to hide anything from her. I was sure she knew about Echo and me anyway.

  “You get visions?” She didn’t hide the excitement in her voice.

  “Just of you, the mysterious woman in a cloak. You were my first vision, so I can’t say I get them. I know you were outside the school, too, even though I didn’t see that in a vision, but the souls felt your presence and were drawn to you. They couldn’t see you either.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I stalked you.” She gripped my hands and studied my Druidic ring, but she didn’t ask about it. “When Eirik sent the Idun-Grimnirs home and told them they’d scare you, they’d already visited the farm and your school. I left to find the blanket, and the next day I was outside the school when you arrived. I stayed and observed you in class. I thought it was my right for having missed every school play, recital, and softball game.”

  I laughed. “You didn’t miss much. I was homeschooled, so no plays, recitals, or softball games, but like Eirik, I swam.”

  “I would have been on the stands with big signs, cheering you on. Are your parents proud of the young woman you’ve become?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Hope so? They should be. I want to hear about your life. Everything you can remember. When did you start swimming? What’s your favorite stroke?”

  “Backstroke. I brought my laptop, and it has pictures and videos. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

  She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. “That’s okay. Your father needed time anyway because he had big plans for your arrival. A homecoming party worthy of our daughter.” A frown chased the smile away. “But Celestia needs us now.”

  I felt a little sick to my stomach and braced myself before saying, “I am responsible for her condition.”

  The goddess frowned. “Why do you say that?”