Tonight would be a night of little sleep, but it had nothing to do with the gathering those on his floor were having. His thoughts churned, producing images from past lectures about the Norse pantheon, mixed in with images of luminous elves dancing and chanting in circles—a reality that couldn’t exist, but it stood out like a memory. He waded in it, drifting, looking closer, and watched the elves in Alfheim—the Land of the Elves—one of the Norse’s nine realms, move and sway. They wore an abundance of nature-toned clothes, fitted similar to those of a Cirque du Soleil production, and their long hair of varying shades and textures flowed down their backs; their skin in varying hues shimmered as if they’d been painted with gold. Harley rubbed his burning eyes.
Blinking cleared the image, to only be replaced by that of her. By the way Helena walked, with an authoritarian stride, and the way she dressed; it appeared as if she’d been sewn into her black leather outfit. It was molded perfectly to her svelte figure.
He sighed.
Everything came with a price.
His good looks could only get him so far, and the last thing he needed was to prove his father right. To go from the prom king to life’s jester—what a joke. But Helena’s offer gave him options.
He pulled his pillow over his head as if that could mute the loud voices in his mind regarding his dilemma.
There was something about Helena that made him want to dive straight in and ask questions later. She was like a fantasy brought to life. He'd seen it—been so close as to practically feel her body between the palms of his hands—and heard her rousing sounds of love-making as she’d urged him on in her thick accent.
But there was more to this than just that.
Her. When he’d stared at her, her face had twinkled, as only happened when magic was employed.
And she’d tried to use it on him.
Magic wasn’t something he didn’t know about. It had been implored on so many occasions, but his family looked down on such things. His intuition told him more than he wished to hear. Helena had an ancient knowledge, for that was the only way for magic to be deployed and used in this world, and only through the bloodline could magic be discerned.
Like a bloodhound, he could sniff it out, but that was all. When it came to magical talents, even those forbidden, he didn’t know himself to have any.
Around her, he needed to use his wits, or he’d sign away more than just a few weeks of his life for an abundance of gold and pleasure.
Yet, something tickled his mind; a rumor he’d heard when he’d first arrived on campus seven years ago. He tried to find the memory and focus on it, but like a wisp, it fluttered away from his grasp.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Graham asked, thundering into the room like a wide-receiver who’d just scored a touchdown.
“What do you mean?”
“You only have two weeks left to act like a fool before adult life comes knocking. You should get out there and wrangle down a nice honey to cozy up to.”
Harley removed the pillow from his head. “Nah, I have a lot on my mind.”
“What do you have to think about besides making sure not to fail your finals?”
“Just trying to make plans.”
“You know what happens when you make plans?”
“No, but I’m sure you, Mister Philosophy Major, are going to tell me.”
“It sends out negativity into the universe, and therefore, tells the universe that it can shit all over everything for us.”
“What?” Harley asked.
“Okay, really it is more like we plan and the gods laugh, or something like that.”
Harley threw his pillow at him.
“No, seriously, I wanted to talk to you about that house. You were really in there?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I told you it was haunted.”
“It’s not haunted,” he said. But then again, he’d not made it inside. “I just met a woman, and well—”
“Oh, nah, don’t tell me while you were in there, you found a girl.”
“There’s nothing girlish about her. She’s truly a woman—older.”
“How much older? Like a hot grandma or more like a MILF? Because MILF’s are down to—”
“We don’t need to go there.”
Graham raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. No disrespect. So, tell me about her.”
“Not much to tell, but I’m wondering if I’m going to see her again.”
“You’re not a virgin, are you, and trying to scratch it off right before you leave, right?”
“No, this has nothing to do with sex.”
“Everything has to do with sex. Either someone isn’t getting enough of it, hasn’t had any of it, or is praying to drown in it.”
“You watch too much porn.”
“Only the good stuff. Tell me; what is she like?”
“No, you’re going to horn-dog all over it,” Harley said.
“Well, whatever you do, just be careful. I’ve heard a lot about college students going missing around here over the last few years—young men who just upped and disappeared. If she has your head spinning, then I reckon she’s probably done the same to other impressionable young men like yourself.”
“Do you remember hearing any of the specifics?”
“No, Emili was with me then, and I was paying more attention to the tiny freckles she has on her shoulders than what the RA said.”
At the beginning of the semester, the resident advisors made sure to give lectures of what to expect at college, and over the past seven years, those lectures had remained the same.
“Yeah, you two have been together for a while.”
“Got to be careful. Next thing you know, she’ll want to plan a wedding. Her mother is all about her getting her MRS. degree.”
Harley chuckled good-naturedly. No matter what they’d gone through, Graham and Emili had always been part of his inner circle.
“You think she might be able to help me find something out about this legend?” Harley asked.
“She’s working at the computer lab tonight, so I don’t see why not.”
Harley jumped up out of bed and headed down there. Research. That was the only way he'd find anything out about Lady Helena, and this whole deal that she offered.
Like on any Friday night, the computer lab was empty, except for the technician, Emili. Harley gave a kind wave and took a seat at one of the free terminals.
His hands moved across the keyboard in rapid speed, entering in his search terms. He narrowed down the selection until he came to a forum post written by Jay Hendricks-Dawson.
Yeah, I went out to the Laufeyjarson place, too, and the woman there offered me the world, but what I didn't know was that she was really Lady Hel: the true ruler of Helheim. I'm not religious, but could I make a deal with the devil just to have a better life?
After locating Jay Hendricks-Dawson’s name, Harley did a cross search. Although the comment seemed a little far-fetched, it was still pretty close to what he himself had been offered tonight—a quid pro quo.
He spent more than two hours chasing down leads only to land at nothing.
“Hey, Harley, I’ve got to close up now,” Emili said.
“Sorry, must have been so caught up in this—”
“Yeah, that's you, always researching something. You have a beautiful brain.” She smiled, and then peered over his shoulder. “Oh, you're looking up stuff about Jay? He's still on campus. Why don't you just ask him about whatever it is you’re interested in knowing? He's a little flaky, and always talking about how he met this amazing Russian woman who took him back in time to the Bolshevik Revolution.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, he swears by it. He's, like, working on his Ph.D. now in history. I'm surprised you haven't heard about him.”
“Well, undergrad students don't really hang with the postgrads," Harley said.
"Yeah, that's true, but his stories are legendary. He even
talks about a time he supposedly danced with Princess Anastasia, and had a sit-down talk with Rasputin. Can you imagine that?"
"Has anyone discredited his information—the information that he's shared?” Harley asked.
“No, everything lines up. I'm not saying that he went back in time, but he sure has an imagination when he twisted it with his fantasy,” Emili replied.
“Do you know where he's staying?”
“I can check the student directory.” Emily thumbed through the directory and gave him the needed information.
“Thanks, Em. I owe you one.” Harley raced out of the computer lab.
“Hey, you forgot to log out.”
Harley didn't care. Maybe this Jay guy could tell him something that he didn't know, and point him in the direction of either accepting Helena's offer or running away as fast as he could.
Chapter 4
Harley
Jay's dorm room was located in graduate housing on the edge of campus. Harley raced across campus, pumping his arms ever faster while his mind focused on the woman who smelled like roses. Sweat pooled at the base of his spine, and as his feet beat on the concrete sidewalk, he thought of her. His breathing in and out, every bit of exertion, led right back to her. Yet, the more he pushed himself, the more her image called to him, as if she’d placed a worm inside his brain to carve out images that only reflected her likeness. It nagged him. Begged him. It goaded him.
He tried to calm down his racing heart outside Jay’s door because it felt like thunder inside his chest, threatening to crack his rib cage.
He knocked on the door before he realized that he should have called first.
An impish man opened the door. Thick, horn-rimmed glasses rested on his pert nose, and he wore a pocket protector in his plaid shirt.
“May I help you?” he squeaked.
“Yes, I'm looking for Jay Hendricks-Dawson. I wanted to ask him some questions about Lady Hel.”
Jay promptly slammed the door in his face.
Harley knocked again.
“Yeah, I know this is strange, but I may have just received the same offer that you did, and I want to know what it's all about,” Harley yelled through the door.
Jay quickly opened the door again. “Why didn't you say so? Come on in.”
Once inside, everything changed. Jay quickly shifted to a tall, athletic man, who could've played soccer for any college team. He’d bulked up considerably since answering the door the first time.
“Um, I'm confused.” Harley looked over his shoulder, wondering about the illusion.
“Yeah, that happens. It's just some magic I picked up along the way. Since I didn't know you, I thought I'd try out one of my alter egos to find out what you really wanted.”
“Okay." Harley elongated the word and took a deep breath. "What can you tell me about Lady Hel?”
“Straight and to the point. I like that.” Jay plopped down onto the sofa, which sat across from a fifty-inch television and un-paused the video game that he’d been playing. “Well, I could tell you what the mythology says, but you already have access to that. You want to know what the deal is?”
“Yeah.” Harley nodded his head and took a seat on a bean bag.
“It's like this. She’s an amazing woman, but a cursed one. She needs you, but will never say that she does. She thrives on power, but won't let you close to her heart. She likes to fuck, but doesn't know anything about love.” He paused to click on his controller, allowing his avatar to fight a majestical dragon. “She has an assistant, Siegfried, who lurks in the shadows, a vicious dog that could rip out your throat at any time, and she always ended up in these tantrums. Her favorite thing to say to Siegfried was, “He’s not him.” From what I figured out, only one man can break the curse, and she’s desperately trying to find him. I don’t know who she’s looking for, but as soon as she finds out that you’re not the one that she needs, the illusion is over, and you’re kicked to the curb.”
Harley tensed at that. Maybe it was the crudeness of knowing that, although Jay had had a relationship of some nature with Helena, he hadn’t treasured or valued her any when it was done that bothered him.
“You fell in love with her?” Harley asked.
“Hell no—excuse my pun there.” Jay laughed. “I was there for what she had to offer. It was a freaking sex buffet, and I got to experience the good life in my time, and in the early nineteen hundreds. I'd do it all again.” Jay continued to click on his controller.
“Why did it end?”
“The relationship? Well, once the field trip was over and we came back, it all just seemed so hollow. I mean, hey, I'm a young man and I'm all about spreading my seed, but that was all we had. There was no communication. She’d spend all day in her room, while I was supposed to mope around the place. Even after our time together, I still have no idea if she likes lemon-lime soda or Cola. I don't know if she even knows how to laugh because she can't physically leave her estate without her human escort, and I didn’t want anyone to think she was my mother and really see us together.”
“You were ashamed of her?”
“How can I put this? There’s a difference between dating the hottest woman in the room and dating a skank. She exudes sex, and that’s all she wants.”
“Then how did you two travel to the nineteen hundreds?” Harley asked. He trired to keep his voice as calm as possible, and leaned forward slightly to listen.
“She made her estate show up, and hosted parties and all to introduce me to the people I needed to know for my dissertation.”
Harley nodded his head like he understood.
“I do have one warning for you, though. If you do decide to hit it, make sure to cover up. No telling who's been there before you.”
Harley wasn't sure what made him ball up his fist, but when he punched Jay in the mouth, he experienced the first surge of happiness he’d felt in a long time. “No one talks about a lady that way.”
Anger beat in his chest where he’d once been relaxed and composed. He wished he could continue to rip Jay’s head off and spit down his throat, but he pulled back.
“Then you don't know her,” Jay spat, fear suddenly in his eyes, and wiped the blood from his mouth.
“I guess it's time I made that introduction.” Harley stepped back and stared at his bruised hands. What had he done, and why?
Chapter 5
Helena
It was the same every day. The sun rose, as did the blinds on an automatic timer. Helena rested in her bed and stared at the sunlight. She raised her blackened hand and fiddled with the stream of light that played in the air. When she squinted, she could see a multitude of colors in the light, in this here-and-now. She stretched and moved her two-tone hair across her white shoulder.
Every morning, she listened to the slightest sounds of nature moving. Here, the struggle continued—life, survival—even if it was just a squirrel chasing after another nut, scratching in the hollow dirt, not letting spirits rest or lie. But it was the silence of the dead that she mourned.
In this room, she could be true.
She sat up on the ostrich feather stuffed mattress, with its silk sheets, and lifted her crystal encased mirror. It gave her a view of Helheim, the place she once ruled. Viewing shades of royal blue, black and white, with pops of purples and reds, she stared at the image unfolding of her empty throne room. A chill raced up her arm, a coldness she ignored. Like a silent lover, she ran her index finger longingly over the image.
And what she still desired.
She stayed there and stared at the never-changing image until the sun began its descent. Violet, red and orange painted the sky outside, stamping a period after another mundane day of wasting away because of what she’d lost.
A knock interrupted her.
“Shall I go and get the young man,” Siegfried asked. “He could—”
“The curse. That is all that we discuss nowadays, my friend. I remember when we’d talk about the goodness that still pervad
ed Helheim on the knolled lawns. How the deepest greens shone in contrast to the bright blues, and in opposites there was still joy. But this curse, it takes something of me that I can barely stand. The longer I stay here, the more I lose of myself.”
She caressed her pale cheek with her blackened hand, before snapping her fingers and putting her glamorous exterior in place, where nary a hair of her raven locks escaped from her tightly wound chignon. She puckered her red lips, and batted lovely long lashes.
“Forgive me, for I have said too much,” she said.
“No, madam. I know it to be true, and this man is different. There is something about him that could change the course of our existence here.”
Him? Helena wasn't sure how she should feel about this whole cursed thing. This was the first man to come over the fence since the last imbecile had not been as she’d expected. He wasn't like the men she'd usually go for—all brawn and no brains. No, he seemed patient—not an asshole, at least.
Tall? Sure. Ruggedly handsome in a Scottish Highlander sort of way. Maybe he was a descendent of the Celts? There was a dash of adventure and mischief in him. He could be refreshing in a life that had become too routine.
All he needed was a kilt and a sporran.
The corners of her mouth rose.
This one would be different.
Even when, through mind suggestion, she’d presented all of their sexual options, and the things that they could do together, he'd refrained from acting on any of it. His willpower was strong. He might not be so easy to break.
But, maybe by taking him truly away from all that he seemed to know, he'd more easily become dependent on her and fall in love with her. That had to be the goal. That had to be the reason for it all.
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