‘She will pass Helgrind,’ Ganglari said with determination.
The reason for the tone became apparent as the maiden blushed and complained immediately. ‘She is not entirely dead, is she? Only the dead pass or I shall toss them to the river. A Jotun tried to pass the other year, and there he is, his bones on the bottom. Only after drowning, he could take his rightful place in the line. So, let me—’
‘She carries a gift for our mistress,’ Ganglari said, his rotten shoulders shaking as the steward of Helheim argued with the gatekeeper.
‘I don’t care if she carries all the Nine Worlds to our mistress, sacks of golden turds or the beard of Odin himself, I shall—’
‘She has the Eye, fool girl.’
‘Ah!’ said the gatekeeper. ‘That thing. She is still alive. Sort of,’ she said again as she eyed me with steely resolve.
‘There are precedents,’ Ganglari said with a sigh.
‘Only one! When Hermod rode here to weep for Balder, but—’
‘Fine, you decide. I shall tell Hel she is here, waiting,’ Ganglari said and pulled Timmerion along. ‘In fact, she can see you with the Eye.’
I pulled the Eye out and showed it to her, and the blonde woman blanched. She turned, and I blanched in my turn, for her back was alive with maggots, and bones were visible beneath the swarm. I walked and passed the resentful dead, followed Timmerion, staring at his eyes as he kept turning towards me, and I clutched the Eye. His armor made a scraping sound as we passed the dead lounging on the long, dark bridge, and Gjöll rushed under. We walked like that for hours, perhaps, until I saw a huge dark wall reaching into the air. A gigantic gate made of bones closed the land, and there strode Modgud the Gatekeeper and pushed at them. They swung open silently, and Timmerion was dragged past.
Beyond the gate, peace ruled.
It was a gray land. It was hilly, and forests could be seen, and lights were burning past the boughs. Far to the east, a vast city rose into the air, somewhat, somehow inviting, even if a bit gray and bland. The air was warm, and people I saw would turn and nod at us, their eyes looking on and wondering. Cerunnos was dragged along the road, and I walked after them, marveling at the calmness of Helheim. Ganglari giggled. ‘There are places meant for his kind, Shannon, so make sure you never offend her to merit a place there. You would not enjoy them.’
‘I will try to remember that,’ I said as I awed at the land. ‘I think it is rather peaceful in here. Do the dead relieve themselves?’
‘Take a piss?’ he chuckled. ‘I’ll not tell you.’
‘Surely they do. That looks like an outhouse.’ I grinned despite myself as I nodded at a gray shack nearby.
‘Don’t relax too much, Shannon,’ he said, yanking at Timmerion savagely, and his howls spoiled the amusing moment. ‘Look.’ He nodded to a high plateau that was lit by strange lights, giving it an ethereal, bone-white look. ‘The hall. Go and knock on the door, and my wife will show you in. And good luck. Don’t bargain too hard.’
‘Wait,’ I told him.
He turned to look at me knowingly. ‘Ompar Coinar is happy. But he won’t meet you here. Not until you die.’
‘I—’
‘Do not bargain too hard. Remember,’ he said and moved off, dragging Cerunnos. ‘But bargain.’
‘I will,’ I said forcefully and blinked the tears away. The elf lord turned one more time to look my way, and I waved at him with spite. He had slain Lex. No, turned him into an unholy thing, I thought. I stalked up stairs made of white marble, cold to touch, even through my armor and boots, and I stopped before an iron gate. I beat at the gate, and a hunched, dry woman opened it. It was Ganglot. I saw the hall. It was white as bone, lit with greenish lights, and a terrible smell of rotting flesh emanated from the opened door. ‘Gods,’ I whispered as Ganglot approached with a suspicious look on her face.
‘Be you her?’ she asked, fumbling with her keys. ‘The one to restore her Eye?’
‘I am her,’ I gagged.
‘Overwhelming, isn’t it? The Rotting Goddess is not to be underestimated, no.’ She winked. ‘I mean the level of putridity, that is. She is not the first lord or lady of the lands and will not be the last, but she does her work well. Unfortunately, she has to look the part. Odin made sure of that when he cast her down here. A skeleton would have been better but no, rotting flesh it was.’
I smiled wryly. ‘You speak as much as your husband.’
‘We wear each other’s ears out,’ she confirmed. ‘Though I am only dry, and he wet, we do find some comfort in each other.’ She had a gray bun behind her hair, and indeed, her skin was dry as sand. ‘Death is not kind to the prideful, Shannon. That is why we were punished with this servitude.’
I looked up at the gigantic windows. On the top floor, a shadow of a woman could be seen, perhaps, or something akin to it, twisted to its side, leaning on the glass. I gagged again as I walked forward, the doorway was open, and I stepped to cross it. I fell over the threshold, banging my helmet on the ground. ‘The hell?’ I said and looked behind. The threshold looked normal.
‘She had that stumbling block installed in case gods will bother to visit Baldr. She can be petty, you see, and wishes to see them on their noses, for they will not bow otherwise,’ Ganglot said with some mirth. Then she sobered. ‘I am sorry. It gets lonely in here.’
‘No offence taken,’ I groaned and got up to look at the throne room. It was a hall with a throne, and it was entirely circular with a white chair set in the middle of the room. The stench was so terrible, I had to hold an armored hand over my nose.
‘Come,’ bellowed a strangely high voice through the hall. A circular stairway led up, and I made out a shadow up there behind some smoky windows.
‘The first time a goddess has spoken to you, eh?’ the servant said and kneeled. ‘It sounds almost just like any mortal. Go, I expect I shall not see you again,’ she added. ‘One way or other, you will not be back in this hall for a long time.’
I nodded and climbed the stairs that gave hollow noises as I walked. The stairs were made of bones, and they were brittle and cracked under my weight. The walls were similar. Bones that were adorned in strange patterns to make the wall unique, and I guessed they had been somehow special for her. I went up and reached hallways, and a door opened up. I reached it, holding a breath I did not have anyway and went in.
There sat a woman.
She was facing the window, wearing a black robe, her long, dark hair gleaming with silvery pearls. She stared ahead, and I kneeled and stayed there, thinking she did not see me. I struggled mightily not to say anything and finally, she rewarded my patience.
‘Well done, Shannon,’ her voice whisked around me, dry and yet, somehow mournful. It hammered in my skull, and I knew I could never shut it off. ‘I am Lok’s daughter, sister to snakes and monsters, the one fair being my father and mother ever whelped. That is the reason I was punished for his crimes. I was worth losing. This place has left me nonchalant but not nonchalant enough to be unkind to my guests. Especially if they bring gifts. But then, we don’t have many guests, do we, so excuse me if you feel unhappy with what I am offering.’
She snapped her fingers, and I got up. A dinner was served by the bed, consisting of nothing but bones. She gestured to it.
‘I ... am not dead enough to appreciate this meal,’ I said with modest reproof.
She laughed. ‘Neither am I. It is a dish called “Hunger”, girl, and I endure it. My bed is the “Sick-Bed” and these are the jokes the gods you love enjoy.’
‘I am so sorry, my lady,’ I told her mournfully.
She turned. I did draw breath, a dead one.
I had seen the undead of Timmerion. I had seen dead and dying aplenty the past year. Yet, her ethereal beauty was but a cruel joke, for no mirror could withstand the grotesquely twisted rot and decay that was half her body. A skull was gleaming redly under her pestered, infested skin, the breast was black and oozing puss, the collarbone bared to the world, and what oth
er hideousness there was, was hidden under her cloak. Her stench was overpowering, and I suddenly understood that I should not smell anything, being dead, but I did, and the cruelty of Odin to her was enough to make me twitch with anger. Even the dead would avoid her company.
‘Ah, I see you see things are not as black and white as they seem. Or in my case, perhaps it is indeed so,’ she grinned, showing her white arm next to the blackened one. ‘But you bring me comfort, do you not? My only toy for gazing at the worlds I once knew? The thing they stole?’
‘I do bring it, goddess,’ I told her and fumbled in my pouch. I sensed she had moved, and I looked up to see her standing in front of me. The Eye was in my palm, cold and alive at the same time, perhaps reacting to her presence.
‘Give it, Shannon,’ she said with impatience that bordered on violence. ‘It was stolen from me. I was deceived by lies by a thieving spawn of darkness. The gods ordered its theft, Cerunnos Timmerion held it—’
‘The gods did not order its theft,’ I said bravely. ‘Surely you know this if you have been listening in on Cerunnos? It was Stheno, Euryale, and Cerunnos, and even the latter that was fooled in the end by the two mistresses of snakes.’
She looked astonished. She stared at me as if I were a piece of rubble in an offensive place. ‘I’ve seen his fist for ages, girl while he clutched my Eye. I have seen his rotting face. I have not cared to listen to his mad mockery and ramblings.’
‘You should have,’ I said. ‘He told me the truth.’
‘Words from the mouth of a liar, a mad undead thing? More lies. The Gorgons and Cerunnos alone, you say? He said this? I don’t believe it. Cerunnos betrayed his masters the Aesir and the Vanir and claimed my Eye, and it cursed him, but I have stared at his face for thousands of years, and now, I wish it, unblemished. And frankly, girl, it matters little who stole it. The war I unleashed on the worlds and the gods was just. They put me here for my father’s crimes. And you wish to return such creatures to their Nine Worlds? Bah!’
I stared at her for a long time, not sure what to say. ‘Lady—’
‘My Eye,’ she hissed.
‘What …’ I asked, ‘is to become of me?’
‘To become of you?’ she asked, not comprehending I had dared ask something like that after she had endured the loss of her Eye for such a long time.
‘What about me?’ I hissed in return. ‘I gave everything to regain it.’
‘Everything?’ she breathed, her foul mouth sputtering rot at me.
‘All I had,’ I said stubbornly.
‘You dare!’ she shrieked, and the windows shook. She pulled out a dark, curved dagger with a filthy blade. ‘This is called, “Famine”, Shannon. I have been a serene goddess, nearly always, but now I am like a bone-sawing murderer of the back alleys of Tarn. I am done with serenity, Shannon. A goddess ranks before a mere mortal!’
‘Will you kill me?’ I grinned under my helmet, and she ripped it off with enough force to crack some bone in my back, though I felt nothing. She stomped the helmet into a flat bit of metal. ‘That was made by Frigg,’ I said and looked on in horror at the damage to the armor.
‘Frigg? I don’t care if the lowliest smith in some backwoods shithole made it. I’ll piss rot over it and not lose any rest for the fact. You wish to join Cerunnos Timmerion in the game I devised for him? Death inside death? He shall die here, you know. Every day, he shall drown, only to wake up again, and then walk the bridge only to know he shall drown again. The Creeping Chambers for Shannon as well? Or shall I use Famine on you and leave you a shambling husk even the other dead will avoid? I will get the Eye, nonetheless, and—’
‘I am not done speaking, your highness,’ I said.
‘Not done? You are all but dead, girl, and only my Eye holds you to a vestige of life. You are corporal and timeless like Timmerion was,’ she spat. ‘His spirit stayed with his corpse because nobody killed his body, and he was cursed. Your body died holding my Eye, and here you will remain if I so choose. I have power over you, where I had none over him. You are done if I say so.’
‘I have people … creatures to pay back to, your highness,’ I told her with no hope, for the goddess was now dangerous and mad, and utterly unstable. She breathed harshly for a long, long time, taking in rotten air to her lungs until she stepped back and went to sit on the Sick-Bed.
‘Pay back?’
‘Yes, goddess,’ I said, clutching her Eye. ‘To pay back.’
She shook her head. ‘To pay back. And in order to pay back, you have to go back. Back? I have never sent anyone back,’ she said with a grimace. ‘I have kept a close guard of my wards. I might hate my duty, but I do uphold the laws of the land. And you are dead, even if a bit different from the other corpses. Your heart is split. You were killed. It is not right for a woman with a split heart—’
‘My heart has been split so many times lately that the sword hurt not at all, goddess,’ I told her. ‘I wish to split some hearts now.’
She smiled rottenly. ‘In that, we have much in common. Imagine a smile of a demi-goddess. She had no worries, and she laughed with timeless happiness. She danced on the fields of Vanaheim, feasted with the Valkyries. Imagine what they did to me for my father’s crimes. But the fact remains, Shannon that your place is here. See.’ Her finger pointed at the ragged Silver Maw. ‘When you give up the Eye, you are no different from your husband, friends, family who have passed this way.’
I groped at my holed chest. ‘I know, Mistress of Bones. And I miss them terribly. But I would still go back.’
‘You will be honored. Well honored,’ she smiled. ‘Stay here.’
‘I still wish to return,’ I said.
‘And how could I release you? There are rules!’ she said, losing her composure again. ‘Rules! Must not break the rules!’
‘Who sets the rules?’ I asked her.
‘He did. Odin,’ she spat, and her eye glinted. ‘Oh, so that is your game, girl. He set the rules, and I hate him, and he is not here.’
I nodded. ‘Odin is lost, is he not? Locked in Asgaard by Cerunnos and Stheno and Euryale. And so, you make the rules now. Subtle changes might be important, and even fair? Send me back. I will have my thing, and perhaps you will have your Eye and achieve some other, equally important goal.’
‘What is my goal now that I will have the Eye?’ she asked with a dangerous smile.
‘Why, your freedom from Helheim?’ I asked.
She said nothing for a while and then nodded. ‘In order for that to take place, Odin must agree,’ she whispered, her hands shaking. ‘He must give that boon to me. Oh, I see. You go back. You do your murderous bit. You go on a quest to restore the Gjallarhorn, and surely Odin would like to be restored to his Nine worlds.’
I bowed. ‘Yes. That means I have to fetch the Horn as well as I did the Eye. It is so, lady, that the gods did not steal your Eye, and perhaps the Horn might be useful to you as you bargain with them. I will be happy to help you with that.’
She mulled it over, sputtering and giggling, mad and then sane, as she paced the floor, her rotten foot making her limp painfully. ‘How? How will you regain the Horn if you go back?’
‘How? I am the Hand of Life. Frigg’s creation. They will heed me, still, no matter if they have a fake one in place for now.’ Hannae. She was likely playing my part. ‘I will find a way. I shall slay the First Born Euryale. I will lay low the elven bastards who hurt me. When you have the Horn, lady, what might you ask of Odin? Freedom, more?’
She thought for a while. ‘Bah,’ she spat, a dark mass of vile, sizzling liquid splashed on the pristine white wall. ‘You will find a way? That is a hollow promise. Likely, I will see you there at our gates soon again, and I will have to suffer the fact I broke the rules. The dead will be resentful when they find out. There will be trouble. Rebellions. That will bother me, indeed. I don’t wish to be bothered like that.’
‘But I would try, nonetheless,’ I told her stubbornly. ‘And the Horn—’
&nbs
p; ‘You have no going back, human,’ she said heavily.
‘But …’ I despaired, wishing to cry, and I did. She looked at me with amusement, her rot and health a terrible combination to behold.
She lifted her finger. ‘But, I will make a pact with you.’
‘A pact, goddess?’
She nodded. ‘You will not go back as a human.’ She got up to pace the room. ‘You are right. A slight change in the rules might do the worlds good. And yes, I will want the Horn. It might do me good. Very much so. It will bring me great fortune. It is a wonder the elves and the worlds believe the lie that I hold the Horn. I would force the gods to retrieve my Eye if I did have the Horn. But there it is. I don’t have it. You will get it. This pact is one that you might not enjoy.’
‘Few pacts are. You said you would not send back a human. What shall you send back?’
‘I shall not send a living thing back, to be exact,’ she said.
‘Not a living thing?’ I asked, feeling her darkness conquer me, filling me with fear.
She nodded. ‘I tell you, you will never again breathe. And if you return there alive, that will still hold you.’ She clapped her hands, and the rest of the Silver Maw shed away from me with a clatter. She pointed at the Bone Fetter, the silver coils around my arm. ‘It is a creation of Niflheim, and a dverger smith of Svartalfheim. Once put on you, not even I can easily take it away from a living. Someone can control you, a dragon? I see it in your mind. The Masked One. I know him. He served me once before he fell in my war. No. If you go back, you go back as my creature. I can do this for you. But I cannot save your life.’
‘Name the terms,’ I told her, dreading her words.
‘I will have you bring the Horn to me, Shannon. You will bring it to me, and Odin shall restore me to the life I loved, once, while I still remember it,’ she whispered.
‘I …’ I began and went quiet as I saw the terrible desire in her eyes.
Eye of Hel: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 2) Page 33