Bauldr's Tears

by Alydia Rackham

  Marina’s soul trembled.

  “Hello, Bauldr,” the woman purred, glancing at Bird and flashing her eyebrows. “The new armor suits you.”

  “Hel,” the bearded man frowned at her. “What are you doing on Midgard? I thought you had party business with Sif at Bilskirnir.”

  Marina’s knees went weak. Still, she couldn’t shift an inch.

  The woman—Hel—shrugged her pale, bare shoulders.

  “I was curious,” she said lightly. “I saw the little one dash off across the Asbru and thought to myself ‘Hm.’” She crossed her arms. “‘What is the prince doing at this late hour visiting the Midgardians?’” She arched one of her inky eyebrows at him. “Does Nanna know where you are?”

  Bird shifted, swallowed. Hel blinked.

  “Oooh. I see.” She smirked, then gave a coldly-amused glance at the bearded man. “Well. We’re all entitled to a little fun, aren’t we?”

  “No,” Bird suddenly snarled at her. “Not at all.”

  She just gazed at him saucily, her arms still crossed.

  “So I’m to assume Thor only came to retrieve you because he was lonely? Is that it? Lonely for the baby brother?”

  “Hel,” the bearded man heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. “If you weren’t Loki’s sister, I would kill you. Right here, on this spot. I’ve told you that, haven’t I?”

  She laughed out loud, then winked at him .

  “Oh, yes—but you’re quite fond of me. You’d never do that.”

  “Sure,” Bird muttered. Then he faced her squarely. “So why are you really here? Get lonely too?”

  She bared her teeth in a grin.

  And Marina realized with horror that her teeth were sharp.

  “I am here with Fenris,” she answered. “He’s taking my pack for a run.”

  And suddenly, wolves yipped and howled around them all, their disembodied voices shrieking through the forest. Hel turned her face toward Marina, glancing about casually…

  And Marina’s stomach turned over.

  Hel’s face…

  The right side of it was beautiful—smooth and perfectly formed, if pale as death. The left side…

  Was a skull.

  Though long, straight bangs tried to hide it, there could be no mistaking. No skin, no muscle—only bare, whitened bone, and a gaping hole where her eye should be.

  Marina began to shiver violently. Her vision blinked in and out.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” Bird warned Hel. “Let them all loose to run. Not so close to a town.”

  “Why?” Hel turned back to him, frowning. “They don’t go past the borders of the woods, and if any Midgardian is stupid enough to come in here at night with wolves howling—well, that’s his own fault.”

  Marina gulped.

  “We’re going home,” the bearded man cut in. “Are you coming?”

  “On such a lovely night?” Hel spread out her hands. “Of course not! Go on. Don’t worry about me.”

  “We’ve never wasted any time worrying about you,” Bird rolled his eyes.

  “Good night, Your Highnesses,” Hel grinned. “I’m going to have some more fun playing.”

  “Don’t break anything,” Thor warned. She made a terrifying face at him. He just looked at her flatly, and together he and Bird strode off into the woods, away from Marina.

  Hel watched them go, then casually turned around and swept off the way she had come…

  And disappeared into the dark.

  Marina’s fingers closed tighter around her throat. The bearded man and Bird still strode straight away from her, the lantern flickering, and growing dimmer.

  Wolves cackled behind her.

  She spun around.

  She couldn’t see anything. But she could hear them moving around through the underbrush, darting back and forth, panting, sniffing…

  She stood away from the tree, stared after Bird, her breath catching…

  And hurried after him.

  She fought to keep her feet quiet on the rustling leaves as she caught up—but as soon as she got close enough to their backs, she hesitated. Fell back. Clapped a hand over her mouth.

  She could not show them that she’d seen them. She could not.

  But maybe…Maybe they could lead her out of the forest, closer to some civilized spot, away from the wolves and that woman, and she could find her way back to her house…

  The two men kept walking, never looking back. They strode noisily, the bearded man’s boots making a racket. Bird tread more lightly, but not carefully.

  They wound between the trees, gradually heading downhill until Marina lost her bearings. She wrapped her left arm around her middle, praying that she wouldn’t trip and fall down the slippery incline.

  Up ahead, the scenery changed. The trees stood back, and the path opened up into a small clearing. The two men kept walking. Marina slowed to a stop.

  There, right in the center of the hollow, stood a tall stone doorway.

  Thick, broad, set stones, with vines clinging to them—vines that almost hid the deep, carved runes in the granite. And up on the lintel, right in the center…

  Unmistakably.

  Mjollnir.

  A seal of Thor’s hammer.

  Just like in the picture above her mantel.

  “Stien til Asgard…” she whispered.

  This was it! This was the very place that had sparked her father’s imagination and teeth-gritting determination—the reason she had moved here to that isolated house next to these frightening woods…

  But why were Bird and the stranger coming here? Were they…

  Were they disciples of the Norse myths? Men who actually still worshipped the old gods? Had they come here for some kind of ceremony, or…

  But what about the bearded man’s cloak? The cloak that looked like it was made of storm clouds…?

  And what about that woman’s face…?

  She stopped, and grabbed a branch. She stared at the two men, her thoughts battering around in her head.

  But the bearded man with the lantern did not hesitate. He did not pause to say a prayer, he didn’t lay down any flowers or wreaths or treasures as an offering. Neither did Bird.

  Instead, as one, they stepped through the door, into the darkness…

  And the lamp went out.

  Marina quit breathing.

  Then, she gasped. It echoed in the stillness. She strained her eyes, sure that they still had to be there, just hidden in the dark—

  A deep, rugged, chesty snarl.

  She whirled.

  There, just behind her, bathed in a rare shaft of moonlight…

  A wolf.

  A giant, black wolf, with eyes like burning coals.

  It gnashed its gleaming teeth, curling its lips and laying its ears flat against its head. Its horrid gaze fixed on her. It lowered its great head.

  Her heart gave one awful bang against her chest.

  She ran.

  Marina pelted down the hill, straight toward that door, her pulse skyrocketing, her hair flying out behind her. The wolf—on her heels—she could feel it—

  She threw herself through the doorway.

  Tripped and slammed into the ground. Buried her head in her arms and curled into a ball…

  Silence.

  She pulled in a breath. Lifted her head. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  She lay on a bed of wet stones. Cobbles. And, as she dared to sit halfway up and look around, she realized she was lying on a bridge.

  A long, road-wide stone bridge running straight off into the distance—and disappearing into thick fog. Fog also stood like walls on either side of the bridge, concealing everything from her but the flickering iron lamps that perched upon the bridge’s sides.

  “What…?” she whispered, suddenly dizzy…

  But there.

  There.

  Almost invisible in the fog: a light. A blue light.

  The lamp.

  “Wait!” she cried. She clambe
red to her feet, gritting her teeth as pain danced around all the bones in her left arm. She limped forward, steadied herself and picked up her pace. Her shoes clacked on the stones as she broke into a run. “Wait, wait!”

  “What was that?” a muffled voice up ahead demanded—it sounded like the bearded man.

  “I heard it, too,” Bird replied, hushed.

  “Wait, there’s…There’s wolves in the…wait!” Marina called, picking up her pace.

  And all of a sudden, she ran right into him.

  Slammed into a shoulder, a chest—tried to catch herself—

  Hands grabbed her. Her head jerked up…

  She found sky-blue eyes, and a familiar, pale, handsome face framed by blonde hair.

  “Marina?” he exclaimed.

  “Who is this?” the bearded man demanded—and stepped closer. Marina gaped at him. He loomed over her, his wide shoulders casting a shadow even in the fog, his brow scowling, his gaze like lightning.

  “Calm down,” Bird let go of Marina to put a hand on the bearded man’s chest. The bearded man’s eyes narrowed to slits, and cut straight through her.

  “Am I…” Marina gasped, reaching out to grip the front of Bird’s tunic. “Am I dead?”

  The bearded man bent closer and tilted his head, studying her.

  “You don’t appear to be,” he remarked. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

  “I came from…from back there,” she pointed. “I saw Bird go into the woods, so I followed him, and then the wolves chased me through the door…”

  The bearded man looked sharply at Bird.

  “She calls you Bird.”

  Bird sighed, and glanced down at the ground.

  “Who is this, Bauldr?” the bearded man asked.

  “Bauldr…” Marina mouthed, unable to make any sound.

  “Marina, this is Prince Thor, son of Odin. My brother,” Bird wearily gestured to him. “Thor, this is Marina Feroe. A Midgardian.”

  “A Midgardian?” Thor roared, shaking Marina down to the soles of her feet. “What—How did she follow us? How can she see us?”

  Bird sighed again, turned to her, and reached up. He touched Marina’s collar with his fingertips, and moved it aside…

  Thor’s eyes fell on the chain around her neck. Marina blushed.

  “You gave that to her?” Thor growled, glaring at Bird.

  “No,” Bird shook his head. “I left it at her house.”

  “What were you doing in her house?” Thor pressed, baring his teeth.

  “I told you,” Bird replied calmly. “I had errands to run.”

  “Wait, wait…” Marina interrupted, feeling unsteady. “Thor. Thor?”

  “That is my name,” Thor bit back, then focused on Bird again. “Take her back where she came from. Get the necklace and come home. Enough of this nonsense.”

  “I’m not taking her back,” Bird replied, meeting his eyes squarely.

  “You—”

  “No, you heard what Hel said,” Bird countered. “She and Fenris are in those woods, and I know they’re looking for trouble. I’m not going to take Marina back there to leave her in her house all alone. And it’s our fault she left her house and came this way in the first place. We were careless. Besides, she knows all our proper names now, and she’s found the gate to the Asbru. It’s too late.”

  Thor ground his teeth. Glowered at Marina. She trembled.

  “She cannot stay.”

  “I know that,” Bird agreed. “Just for tonight.”

  Thor huffed like a bull.

  “Fine,” he decided. “Come on. We are late as it is.”

  “Where…What’s happening? Where are we going?” Marina flinched as Bird pulled away from her to follow. Bird paused, and met her gaze. He gave her a half smile—but his bright eyes remained earnest.

  “Somewhere safe.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She swallowed, stared at his hand…

  Reached out and took it. He wrapped his fingers around hers and gently pulled, and she found herself walking with him, trailing after the thunderous stranger into the mist.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  For several long minutes, Marina couldn’t say anything. The only noises she could hear were three sets of footsteps against stone. Bird’s fingers, the single warmth on this chilly, fog-bound bridge, kept secure hold on her hand. She tried with all her might to keep her heart-rate down, to slow her breathing…

  “Where are we going?” she finally whispered again. “Really.” She turned and glanced up at Bird. He took a long breath, and let it out slowly. Tiredly.

  “We are going to Asgard.”

  All kinds of responses leaped onto Marina’s tongue. But none of them even made it to her lips.

  “It’s not far,” Bird continued. “Just at the other end of this bridge.”

  “But…” she finally stammered. “This bridge…Has it always been here?”

  He quietly smiled.

  “Sure.”

  “Then why can’t everyone see it?” she asked.

  “Because they don’t have the key.” He glanced down at her neck where the bird pendant rested. A strange thrill ran through her body—the necklace tingled on her skin.

  For a long while, she attempted to gather her spinning thoughts, listening to the tap of their footsteps. At last, she risked another question.

  “That was…That was Hel,” she breathed. “Back there. It was really her.”

  Bird briefly met her eyes.

  “You saw her?”

  Marina said nothing. He nodded.

  “Yes, it was her.”

  Marina felt even colder than before.

  “And that…That is Thor.”

  He nodded again.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  He reflexively smiled.

  “What do you mean, how?”

  “How?” She wrapped her left arm tighter around her middle. She turned again, and urgently searched his face.

  “Marina,” Bird began, adjusting his hold on her hand. “I know you know all the stories. All of the myths and legends about us, inside and out—everything.” He smiled at her. “I saw how brilliant you are.”

  She blushed again, but listened with all her might. He went on.

  “But I’m fairly certain you do not know what actually happened, in most cases. Who we really are, where we really live, what we’ve really done.”

  “Who are you?” Marina whispered.

  “We are Aesir,” Bird replied. “But we are not gods, as so many people thought for so long. We’re sort of…” He frowned, pondering. “We are elf-like. Or…We live a lot longer than the people of Midgard. But we can be killed, or die of old age. Very old age. And some of us have special abilities, like being able to change our shapes, or talk to animals, or bring down lightning—”

  “And I should do just that to you for doing this again,” Thor barked, turning to glare at Bird over his shoulder. Bird chuckled softly.

  “He will?” Marina breathed.

  “No,” Bird breathed back. “But we should hurry a little faster.”

  And so they picked up their pace, and caught up with Thor.

  Marina asked no more questions. She was tempted to try to convince herself that she was dreaming—but she could tell the difference between reality and a dream, and she could smell this fog, hear the footsteps, feel the paving beneath her feet and her hand in Bird’s. And she certainly could feel the electricity buzzing all around Thor’s cloudy, rolling cloak.

  They trekked for perhaps an hour, the handle of the lamp Thor held squeaking, and the clothing of both men rustling.

  Then, very gradually, the fog began to lighten.

  Far ahead, the clouds took on a pinkish tinge, and a breeze wafted through the still air. It touched Marina’s hair and face—and it wasn’t cold. She took a deep breath, and smelled…

  Grass. And something blooming. Clover?

  Minutes later, the fog brightened, a gust of
wind billowed through their clothes…

  And the mists cleared.

  Marina’s eyes went wide.

  The three of them stepped through a stone arch and onto an earthen road, in the broad center of the late-afternoon sun.

  To their left, looming, white-barked beeches stretched their leafy branches to the dome of the airy, cloud-dotted sky, lining the road like soldiers at march. Off to the right rolled green fields touched at the edges with the gold of the sunset, and interrupted by wandering stone walls. In the distance stood a carved wooden barn with a prowling dragon decorating its peak. The wind whipped playfully through the grain, making its heads snicker to each other, and filling Marina’s lungs with a fresh, sun-baked scent. She twisted around…

  To see the stoic arch, marked with Mjollnir as well…

  But through it spread a plain grassy field, dotted with purple clover, and buzzing with bees and white butterflies.

  The wind called again, blustering her hair into her face. She turned toward the front again.

  “Are you okay?” Bird asked. “You’ve gone white.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” she muttered. He laughed. The sunlight through the branches of the beeches played across his features, and danced across his eyes. She almost managed to smile back.

  “Come on,” he said, squeezing her hand. “No wolves to worry about here.”

  A clatter sounded from behind them. Marina and Bird turned to look…

  A huge, burly man with red hair and beard, wearing a work shirt and trousers, drove a thick wooden cart up the road toward them, grasping the reins of two massive, muscular black horses in his weather-worn hands.

  “Your Highnesses!” he called. Thor halted his headlong march and turned. The man on the cart drew up beside them, and pulled back on the reins. The horses stopped, snorting. The great man on the cart stood up. He loomed taller than a tree.

  “Aelfdane!” Thor’s knitted brow instantly cleared, his eyes brightened and he actually smiled. “Shouldn’t you be at home putting the boar on the spit?”

  “I had to deliver one more load—and as I plan to drink a great deal tonight, I knew would not be able to accomplish anything tomorrow!” Aelfdane answered merrily. Thor laughed—the sound shook Marina’s bones.