by J. J. Neeson
She expected him to laugh, thinking it a joke. But he didn’t. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable. “What makes you ask that?”
The ground beneath her shifted, even though the earth didn’t actually move. She wasn’t sure she was ready for what was about to come. She wasn’t sure she was ready to be wrong about him, to accept that not only did magic exist, but so did other worlds, one of those worlds so close to her all these years.
I know you, Calder, she thought. I know you.
“The girls in town think you are,” she answered honestly, hoping for his truth in return.
His face fell. “And what do you think?”
“It’s impossible to think anything when everything I know no longer feels real.”
“I’m real, Reigh,” he said, placing her hand over his chest. She could feel his pulse beneath her palm, as strong as how the streets of New Orleans pulsed around them, the people on those streets completely unaware of the strange conversation happening on the crowded sidewalk.
“You’re real, but are you human?” she asked. “Tell me straight.”
He hesitated, his frown deepening. “Perhaps we should find somewhere quiet to talk. I don’t have a lot of time, and there’s a lot to say.”
“About what? What is there to talk about?” She needed him to say it if she had any hope of steadying herself. “My mind is open, Calder. Tell me who you are.”
This time, he didn’t falter. “I am what you ask. I’m from a world known to your Norse ancestors. I’m of Jotunheim.”
***
Gerd. The giantess Gerd was from Jotunheim. And so was Calder. The reason for the creepy wind ghost was starting to become clearer, though Reigh wasn’t done dancing in the fog yet.
They sat in a dark corner of a bar on Bourbon Street. Few people drank amongst its large wooden interior. The sun and the parade had drawn most of its patrons outside, allowing them an opportunity to talk in semi-private. She faced Calder on her stool. Lu sat quietly by her side, listening, offering her support through her silence as she tied her long brown hair into a loose knot on her head. The air conditioning in the bar was broken, according to the barman.
Never before had Reigh felt so awkward around Calder. He wasn’t a giant. He was a boy who ate pancakes and drank beer before maturing into a man who took women on river cruises. He was normal. He was real. And he was her best friend. It was difficult to see him as anyone other than the friend he had always been, but he was. He was something unknown to her, and that made her uncomfortable.
“How?” she asked. “How do you travel?”
“I will it,” he replied, solemn, revealing a secret she knew was hard for him to share. “But my will cannot compete with the natural forces that bind us to our worlds, those of us who aren’t gods or elves. My time is always limited. And it takes a lot of my strength. Sometimes, I recover quickly. Other times, I do not.”
“Our date,” she deciphered. “You didn’t have the strength to come back. So you sent the lights.”
“Yes,” he said. “I hoped they would be a comfort. I didn’t want you to feel abandoned.”
“Do you visit… here… often? Am I…” She didn’t know how to form what she wanted to say, but he understood.
“I only come to visit you.”
“Why?”
He seemed baffled that she asked. “Why wouldn’t I?” he said intently, moving closer towards her. “In my world, those of high power can peer into the other worlds of the Yggdrasil tree from the seat of their thrones. I am not of high power, but my uncle is. It is upon his throne I sometimes sit and peer across the stars, when no one else is around. There are many worlds out there, but Norse can only see Norse. Of the worlds of the Yggdrasil tree, Midgard—the human world—intrigues me the most. Earth is a collaboration of many peoples, your ancestry extending further than you know. Looking upon Midgard, I learn a lot about the other worlds I am blind to, but my visions on the throne always guide me to my own, those who walk the earth with Norse blood.
“When I was a young man, a boy really, I saw you. You were alone in your house, packing. There were tears in your eyes. I didn’t know it then, but I eventually learned it was soon after your mom left, right before you moved into your apartment. You knew she wasn’t coming back. Though I didn’t know their cause, when I saw your tears, I was certain you needed me as much as I needed you.”
Reigh’s heart raced. It was strange to hear a story so foreign spoken by someone so familiar. But there was truth to his account. “You were right,” she admitted, taking his hand. “I did need you. All these years, you’ve always been there for me, watching over me. You were the only one who stayed.”
He glanced down at her hand with regret. “Unfortunately, staying is the one thing I can’t do.”
“Maybe not, but you don’t leave by choice, and you always come back. That’s what I mean. That’s everything to me.”
It was a small relief to him, based on the way he sighed. “I wanted to tell you. There were a few times I almost did, but I knew how unnatural it would sound to you.”
“It would have,” she acknowledged. “I would have thought you were doped up more than I was.”
“Sitting on the throne, I saw that Broken Ridge had revealed things to you. I’m fortunate for it, because it makes telling you the truth easier. And it makes it easier to ask this—Reigh, would you consider coming back to Jotunheim with me?”
She was stunned. “Forever?”
“For as long as you like.”
Beside her, Lu coughed in objection, but Reigh ignored her. “Is that even possible?”
“Not on your own, no. I would have to take you with me. Of all the people of the Yggdrasil tree, humans are the weakest when it comes to travel, but you make up for it in strengths that far surpass even the gods.”
Reigh was encouraged. “Like what?”
“Like loyalty. And honor. And courage.”
Tugging at the end of her cut-offs, she considered his proposal. “Would it hurt, being in your world? Thorst—a friend once mentioned that the giantess Gerd radiated with such beauty, it would be sore on my eyes to gaze upon her, like looking straight at the sun. Is that what it’d be like for me, since your world is different from mine?”
“Not in Jotunheim. Gerd is her own story. Of the Norse hierarchy, the giants are the most similar to humans, much more than the gods of Asgard and Vanaheim, or the light elves of Alfheim and the dark elves of Svartalfheim. We are not even giants, really. At least, not when we travel to other worlds. It’s an enigma.”
“Will I be able to stay as long as I choose? What happens if the universe pulls me back, like it does you?”
“I don’t know.” He looked conflicted. “When I’m forced back, I simply start to fade. I can feel it, almost as if I’m drifting off to sleep. And then I’m awake, at home, though I’d rather be here.”
From the emotion in his voice, she knew he didn’t just mean here with her. Calder may be of Jotunheim, but his heart did not rest in the place of his birth. “You’re like the Little Mermaid,” she determined.
“I’m a fish?” he asked, playful.
“You’re in search of a home you were not born into. And so am I.”
“Does that mean you’ll come?”
“I’ll think about it,” she answered, truthful. “I’d like to see where you’re from, to learn more about you. I know our friendship has been one-sided over the years. I guess it had to be. But that changes. Now. I feel the same as if you’d told me you were from France or Brazil. Those are like other worlds, at least to me. Knowing what I do from my time in Broken Ridge, Jotunheim and France don’t seem so different.”
“Oh, it is,” he said, pleased by her response. “For starters, our wine is so much better.”
Reigh laughed, recovering from the awkwardness between them. This was the Calder she knew. He may not be human, but he was the same person. She did not know if she would ever manage the courage to go to Jotun
heim, but she was thankful that knowing the truth about him, and herself, didn’t mean she was losing the one person who had always been there for her.
It made her think of something else. “What do you know about the woman who guides me with the rune?”
“Rune?” he asked, confused. “What rune?”
“Never mind. There’s enough to take in.”
He suddenly rubbed his wrist, unnerved. “It’s happening. Reigh, I have to go.” He stood abruptly from his stool.
She did as well. “Where are you going?”
Besides back to Jotunheim.
“The alleyway, so that I won’t be seen.”
He rushed towards the back exit. She followed, Lu behind her. The alarm sounded briefly when he opened the heavy fire door, but Lu took care of it with a snap of her fingers. Thankfully, no one was in the alley, only a few rats circling the dumpster.
“Calder, I have to ask you something,” Lu said desperately, joining the conversation. “Can you see the threat stalking Broken Ridge?”
“No,” he said, looking ill. “Norse can only see Norse. Humans are of Midgard, but what haunts your town is not human. I don’t know what it is. It’s void, except for its rage. But I do know it’s playing on your expectations. It does not feed off your powers. It has enough of its own. I know because I can sense it, like an unnatural contamination. But I can’t see it in detail.”
He turned to Reigh. “Be careful,” he urged, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t lose you. You give meaning to the barren life I lead in Jotunheim.”
Before she had a chance to respond, he was gone.
***
During the drive back, Lu was quiet. Reigh couldn’t blame her. There was a lot to think about. Calder was a Norse being, as the pottery circle had all suspected, but so was she, technically, thanks to her grandparents, so it didn’t make much of a difference to her. Her only regret of the day was that Calder couldn’t tell them more about the threat.
“You’re not really going with him, are you?” Lu asked, full of concern, breaking the quietude.
“Is that what you’ve been thinking about this whole time?” Reigh gripped the steering wheel tight, the winds of the Gulf tugging at the car. “I thought you were preoccupied with the threat.”
“I was. But also on Calder. Reigh, it’s very rare that a human travels to another world and is allowed to return when they choose. If Calder has to bring you there, then he probably has to bring you back as well. If it’s even possible to return, it’ll be at Calder’s mercy. Based on the way he was looking at you today, I doubt he’d be willing to.”
Reigh tried to remain patient. “If that were the case, he would have just taken me long ago without asking. I trust him. He wouldn’t betray me.”
“He can’t just take you,” Lu said, pulling a cardigan over her blouse, the winds of the Gulf a lot cooler than the road leading out of New Orleans, especially as it thrashed past them in the convertible. “You have to go willingly. I don’t know much about traveling between the worlds, but I’m pretty certain about that. It has something to do with the intentions of the body.”
“I didn’t go willingly when I ended up in the library.”
“Yes, you did. Subconsciously. Either way, teleportation is different. You don’t leave your own world, the fabric of your being. I think that’s the message of the story in the encyclopedia you were telling me about. Even though Freyr is a Vanir god and king of Alfheim, he could not marry Gerd unless she was willing. That’s why, after she refused him, all he could do was coerce her. He could threaten her, but he couldn’t physically force her.”
“So you think the creepy wind ghost is trying to make the point that I have a choice?”
“Yes, I do.”
It meant nothing to Reigh. “Then I don’t understand why its wasting its creepy wind ghost time telling me something I already know. Calder would never coerce me into something I didn’t want to do. He’s one of the truest people I know.”
“He lied to you about being a property manager.”
“Only because he couldn’t tell me the truth about being a Norse giant.” Reigh wasn’t swayed. She thought of all the pills she had taken around Calder, and of all the men she’d brought home. “It’s not like I’m one to judge.”
“But there’s a chance you won’t be able to return. Traveling between the worlds is complicated. And dangerous. Why didn’t he warn you of that?” Lu persisted.
“If that’s true, then I’m certain he doesn’t know.” She was running out of patience. “Why are you so against him? He was nothing but honest with us in the bar. He didn’t have to admit he was of Jotunheim, but he did.”
“I’m just looking out for you,” Lu proclaimed, tightening her cardigan around her. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Or trapped.”
“I appreciate that. And perhaps you’re right about what the story means, but maybe the warning is against Calder.”
“Who else could it be?”
“I don’t know… the threat? It’s otherworldly, too.”
Lu massaged her forehead, tired. “Perhaps.”
“The point is, Calder has given me a choice. He hasn’t made any demands. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.” Her voice dropped as she turned off the coastal road. “Everyone leaves me. Here’s a man who wants me, who’ll do anything to be by my side.” Thorston popped into her mind. She couldn’t help it.
“That’s irrelevant,” Lu contended. “He can’t stay here. And unless you’re willing to risk never coming back, you can’t go with him.”
Reigh didn’t believe it to be so black and white. “I might be willing. I could be happy there.”
“In a barren world? With a man you love but you’re not in love with?”
“I might love him,” Reigh claimed, inhaling the last of the salty sea air in an attempt to calm the outpour of emotions that were in danger of ripping through her.
When Lu spoke again, her words were measured. “If you did love Calder, you wouldn’t have left him behind in Vegas.”
The truth of it hit her hard, enough that she pulled over, unable to drive. “I left him,” she said, choking on her guilt, no longer able to hold her emotions back. “He has loved me more than anyone has, and I just left, as if he was nothing to me.”
Lu was sympathetic. “God has a plan for each of us. It usually makes sense in the end. If you never came to Broken Ridge, Calder never would have been able to reveal himself to you.”
She was thankful Lu was trying to make her feel better, but she could read between the lines. Lu still did not trust him. “I guess it’ll all reveal itself in the end,” she stated, returning to the road.
It didn’t take long before they were back in Broken Ridge, driving down towards the bayou. Reigh was relieved. The day had started out with good intentions, but now she was drowning in confusion, trying to force feelings she didn’t have and to push away truths that seemed obvious to others.
“That’s weird,” Lu said, reading a text from her phone. “Samuel just sent me a message saying he passed by Odd Wonders, and there were a few sirens outside. He couldn’t stop because he had the kids in the car.”
Fearing for Mrs. Florence, Reigh immediately turned around and sped towards the center of town. It was as Samuel had described in his message. An ambulance pulled away just as they arrived, but two police cars remained, their lights flashing like death beams. Seeing Thorston’s bike, she jumped out and ran to him.
“What’s happened?” she cried.
“She was attacked,” Thorston said, taking her into his arms—arms that shook around her. “The threat… It managed… She’s in a coma…”
“It’s okay,” she soothed, realizing he was too upset to speak. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
As she guided him to the car, Calder’s words resonated across the cobbled street like a whispered prophecy.
What haunts your town is not human. It’s void, except for its rage.
/> Chapter Ten
Visible through the hospital room window, within the night sky painted indigo, particles of dust glowed around the town like dew drops filled with light. Further protection. The circle was meeting now, doing what they could to protect Broken Ridge, Mama Blanchet leading the way. Reigh had chosen to stay at the hospital with Thorston as Mrs. Florence lay in a coma, a hint of the fear she felt before losing consciousness still wrapped within the soft wrinkles of her face.
They weren’t entirely sure what had happened. A neighbor had found the door to Mrs. Florence’s home—the apartment above the store—wide open and Mrs. Florence inside, unresponsive. There were no marks on her body. No bruises swelling her skin. She hadn’t suffered physically. But whatever energy the threat had used against her, it was enough to make the doctors questioned if she would ever wake.
Mrs. Florence wasn’t the only one hurt by the attack. Sitting in a seat, bent forward with his head in his hands, Thorston was devastated. His aunt was the last family he had. Her coma was all too reminiscent of the death of his parents. Reigh knew this, but there was nothing she could do to help, not unless she found a way to resurrect those he’d lost.
“She’ll pull through,” she reassured him. “You know she’ll fight.”
“Sometimes, you can swim with all your strength, but it’s not enough to keep the sea from swallowing you whole.” He was reminiscing, not preaching.
“Is that how your parents died?” she asked. “Did they drown?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, turning his head.
“Of course not. I’m sorry.”
“We need to know what we’re dealing with.” He clenched his fists, his grief turning to rage. “Because I’m going to destroy it.”
“I wish we knew,” she uttered.
He tapped his foot, looking torn. Whatever he was about to say, it was hard for him. “Is there a way you can summon Calder? I know you believe he’s human, but if he can help…”