Heimdall got up and headed to the fountain for a refill. He didn’t know how his father had managed to keep the peace within the Lodge all these centuries. Conflicts arose without fail, but Odin and Frigga always presented a united front. When one of them made a decision, they stood firm together.
But Heimdall wasn’t Odin, and Maggie surely wasn’t Frigga. Heimdall might have been groomed to inherit his father’s position, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it.
Heimdall grabbed another plate of hot dogs to share and returned to the booth.
“Start again?” he said.
Thor nodded.
“Rod’s proposed converting all Lodge vehicles to biodiesel. Says he and Ted and the rest of the Valkyries can get it done in a couple of weeks.”
“Including Bragi’s old Subaru?” Thor no longer winced when he mentioned their fallen brother’s name. “You still have that thing?”
“I was thinking of giving it to Sally, if Rod can take out all the dents you put in it.”
Thor nodded thoughtfully. “How’s Loki been getting around? Uber?”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
The next few minutes passed in silence as they ate, save for Magnus singing nonsensical songs to his sausages as he took tiny bites out of them.
“Thanks for driving in. Magnus and I wanted to give Bonnie a few hours to herself. I know it isn’t easy for you to come into Portland.”
“It is when Maggie’s got a craving for goat milk chocolate.” Heimdall took a hefty bite of a New York dog. “I’ll drop by Pan Sisters before I head back.”
“May the Vættir take pity on you if she tries to replicate that stuff in Frigga’s kitchen.” Thor smirked.
Heimdall laughed and a knot loosened in his chest. It felt good to be teased by his brother. “I’d be stuck tending goats and lying about the merits of her confections.”
Thor licked orange-colored sauce from his fingers. “Don’t knock goats. Lady on our block has a couple. Loans them out to neighbors to gnaw down their lawns, in exchange for backyard eggs and produce. It’s quite the urban farm economy.”
Heimdall studied his brother and then glanced at Magnus. The kid’s costume was smeared with at least five different sauces and his fingers and face were sticky.
“It’s different, living so closely among mortals again,” Thor said. “There are many blessings and challenges. Magnus got invited to a couple of neighborhood parties, but he’s too young. Despite how he looks.”
“And you don’t know how he’ll behave.”
“Small steps,” Thor said. “It was enough that Bonnie insisted on dressing him up in a store-bought costume.”
“Who’s he supposed to be?” Heimdall reached for his drink.
“Thor,” Thor grumbled. “From the comic books and movies. She thinks it’s hilarious.”
Heimdall nearly spat cola onto the table.
“Kids in the neighborhood keep pestering to see my hammer, too, since they learned my name.” Thor’s scowl twisted into a proud smile. “Not that I mind being a hero again.”
Heimdall choked down the last of his New York dog. “It’s a different world.”
Thor clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “Which is why we need to get our forces organized. We have no idea what crisis might strike next. Or when, or where.”
Heimdall watched a group of undead, unisex football players pass by outside the window. Did these young people even know what they were playing at? The spillover of paranormal problems into the mortal world was worsening by the year.
“It won’t surprise you that Maggie blames Sally’s influence,” Heimdall said.
He’d tried offering Sally a lifeline by having Kyle watch over her at PSU, but the boy’s latest text indicated that he’d blown his cover almost immediately and left Sally royally irritated. And with Maggie’s attitude toward her, plus the way he’d been so dismissive of the Rune Witch’s concerns over breakfast at Bonnie’s, Heimdall feared he was the last person Sally would turn to for help. He wanted to believe she could take care of herself out in the world, but what if she couldn’t?
Thor tightened his jaw. “She’d blame the Rune Witch for her own curdling milk, whether there’s reason for it or not.”
“And you want to blame everything on Loki.”
Thor waggled a fat finger at his brother. “And sometimes I’m right. Whatever’s coming, you can bet it’s coming soon and that he’ll be at the dark heart of it.”
“And we’re unprepared.” Heimdall pushed his plate away. There was still half a pølse sausage left, but he wanted to have some appetite for Maggie’s latest effort. She was making grapefruit risotto with fennel and crawfish, and he wasn’t sure if he should be excited or terrified. “What makes you think something’s headed our way?”
“Just a feeling, brother.” Thor ruffled his son’s thick hair. “And because we’re not that lucky.”
9
Sally tripped over her own shoes as she followed Loki through the dark tunnel. She was feeling an evil combo of the previous night’s hangover, smoke inhalation, and side effects from the new and unexpected adventure of traveling between worlds. Loki had worked some teleportation trick to allow them to pass between the realms, though he’d said she was the one who’d opened the way.
She was pretty sure she’d remember doing something like that, but it was pointless trying to get detailed information out of him. She hadn’t traveled to another realm before and didn’t know it was possible for a mortal. But Sally was no ordinary mortal.
She trailed her fingers along the damp rock wall and made herself take a deep breath. She didn’t want to puke all over the shadowy passage and get sent to some purgatory detention center.
“Let me get this straight.” Sally stumbled and had to brace herself against the rock wall to regain her balance.
Loki strode on as though he could find his way through the dank tunnel with a blindfold on.
“Hel sent the draugar to Portland?” Sally asked.
“That is my suspicion.”
“So those guys burning down my apartment building, that really wasn’t my fault?”
There was a protracted pause. “If it’s any consolation, they destroyed my home as well.”
That wasn’t any consolation. Loki was hedging and giving half-answers, per usual. On the subject of the bog bodies at the Nordic Cultural Center and how they might figure into Hel’s plan, he remained silent.
Sally wanted to kick Loki in the shins. But she could barely make him out in the dark, and with her luck she’d end up breaking her own foot on the wall. Plus, Loki was her guide home.
But as soon as they were back topside, Sally decided her foot and his backside had a date with destiny.
“So what are those Viking zombie dudes supposed to be doing, exactly? Posing for more photos with tourists?” Sally was astonished when Loki declined to even try to contain the draugar threat in Portland. According to him, they might not present a threat at all—despite their destruction of multiple domiciles. They hadn’t hurt anybody on the street, but Sally assumed that could change at any moment.
Now, as she followed Loki to Helheim, the draugar were free to roam the city. Honest-to-goodness undead creatures were walking among the living, and Zach and the rest of Portland were none the wiser.
“Their purpose in Portland remains to be seen,” Loki replied.
And what if they weren’t just in Portland? Sally blinked at the dim light from up ahead. Loki became a hazy silhouette as she followed. And then suddenly she was standing beside him outside the tunnel, where the rock gave way to the least interesting landscape she’d ever seen. If the Nordic Cultural Center added a Helheim exhibit, it would be filled with flat canvases in shapeless shades of gray and brown.
“This is it?”
“We shouldn’t linger here.” Loki took her arm and pulled her forward. “It’s one thing to travel here as a living immortal. It’s quite another for you to walk these f
ields.”
Sally tried to squirm away from him.
“Stay close to me,” he warned. “If you stray so much as an inch from my side . . .”
“You can’t guarantee my safety? Isn’t that how it goes?”
“Sally . . .” Loki’s voice faded on the air like muted fog.
She hadn’t seen him so out of sorts before. There was nothing obvious in his outward appearance to betray inner turmoil. But there were small signs, like the tiny hesitation in every step. And Sally could hear a quaver in his voice if she really listened for it.
They walked across the drab field of dullness. Sally noted the topography—a lake to one side that looked slightly less boring, and a woodland bog on the other side that seemed to swallow the light around it.
They passed beneath a weathered stone archway and hiked into a misty forest. It was the silence more than anything else that unnerved her. If not for the steady pace of their footsteps and the sound of her own breathing, she might have thought she’d lost her hearing.
Generations of souls had traveled this way. This realm of the dead was unlike anything described by modern media. There was no fire and brimstone, no dancing demons. Cherubic angels strumming harps on fluffy white clouds were notably absent. It was all a murky nothingness. Even the trees of Helheim were featureless. No scents or sensations of temperature or humidity. Not one of Sally’s physical senses was any use.
How might this forest appear, or sound, or smell to someone with post-mortal senses? Maybe Helheim was vibrant and colorful, alive, to someone no longer encumbered by corporeal flesh. Would Sally follow this same path when her turn came? And if she didn’t perform well today, would Hel hold that against her when it came to the final dispersal of her soul?
Sally shivered and leaned closer to Loki.
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
Sally jumped at the sudden interruption of silence. “I’ve got a job to do. In and out, like you said.”
She doubted it would be so simple, but she chose to warm herself with optimism instead of surrendering to the tedium of the forest.
“I’m not scared,” she said.
Loki tilted his head, maybe his version of a walking shrug. Or maybe he’d heard something.
“You should be,” he said.
They came to a tangle of trees and vines that resolved into a dark, living archway. Loki pulled Sally close as he slowed his pace.
“Don’t speak out of turn,” he said in a low, even voice. His face remained neutral, and Sally got the impression that showing any trepidation might be a bad idea.
“And don’t fidget,” he continued. “I’m uncertain as to precisely what we’re walking into, but I don’t imagine it will be pleasant.”
“But we’re expected?” Sally made an effort to keep her voice calm, mimicking Loki.
“We are, but this is sensitive business. And unprecedented.”
Sally paused before they crossed the threshold into the Hall of Hel. A thousand questions swarmed in her brain, but she was beyond the point of being able to ask. She stepped through.
The hall was formed out of the dark forest itself. Surrounded by trees on all sides, Sally didn’t feel the strong thrum of life she normally found in places like Forest Park. These gnarled walls were muted and still, and they reached far overhead into empty shadows.
Tears pricked Sally’s eyes as Loki led her to the center of the hall. The place smelled like ancient mildew, and she felt like she was walking into the dull hush of death. She balled her fists tight to keep from shivering.
She stood on the floor of swept dirt and wanted desperately to ask where everyone was. But she felt hundreds of eyes on her, even without a soul in sight. Her every movement was being studied from beyond the tangled walls of green and brown, and she heard the dim thud of her heart echoing through the empty chamber. Had a living person ever stood in this hall? She was suddenly worried about her chances of getting out alive.
Sally felt sure the walls were about to reach out and entangle her or even tear her to pieces. It was a struggle to keep her mind focused, particularly when Loki had been so frustratingly cryptic about the entire endeavor.
Sally’s presence was crucial to sorting out whatever was going on in Midgard and to stopping the draugar. That much was clear. There would be a negotiation, and the souls of Odin and Frigga hung in the balance. That was more than enough to freak her out. Sally didn’t think she’d been dragged along as a mere witness, and she had a bad feeling she had a significant part to play and that she wouldn’t like it.
Loki rested a hand on her shoulder. Sally relaxed, but only a little. She must have been telegraphing her anxiety for him to make such a gesture. She took a deep breath and willed calm and control into her body. Ignoring the unpleasant smell of wet rot, she used the deliberate rhythm of inhaling and exhaling to empty herself of fear and to become a curious observer rather than potential prey. She was partially successful.
A flicker of movement caught Sally’s eye as a veil of interwoven willow branches shivered. She knew Hel’s throne lay on the other side. She’d done some hurried reading before her surprise journey, and she steeled herself for the appearance of a goddess who was half-living and half-corpse, half-beauty and half-decay.
Legends said Hel stood at the crossroads between worlds, a gatekeeper to the realm of the dead. Sally didn’t think Hel was intrinsically evil any more than carrion eaters were malicious; both were vital to the ongoing cycle of things. But she didn’t anticipate Hel would be especially pleasant or trustworthy.
The willow curtain seemed almost to breathe as it lifted soundlessly to reveal Hel on her throne of knotted vines. Sally tried to track the retreating veil, but it disappeared from sight between one breath and the next.
Sally didn’t look the goddess of the underworld directly in the eye, even as she felt Hel’s stare boring into her. Sally was trembling. She felt rooted to the spot. She made an effort to keep her shoulders loose and her face blank, though her breath came in short, jagged spasms.
Hel wasn’t the shocking sight of putrefaction and gore Sally expected, but she wasn’t a Miss Universe contestant, either. The skeletal goddess looked cold and strong, and Sally was struck by the resemblance to the draugar she’d seen on the street. But Hel’s flesh was jaundiced and puffy, jowly around her face and sunken and dark around her fierce, yellow eyes.
Bodies in various states of decay writhed around Hel’s dais, and Sally took a step back as lumps of gray flesh mounded together and pulled apart. Their heaving dance stretched faces and limbs into unrecognizable shapes and then formed new patterns that Sally feared would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life.
“So this is your little witch.” Hel’s voice was like squishy sandpaper.
“I have brought the Rune Witch to your hall.” Loki’s words were muffled. When Sally looked away from Hel and her throne, she noticed that the air itself seemed heavy. Everything was slightly out of focus and vaguely dark green.
“As we agreed,” Loki said.
Sally wanted to glance at him, but she worried about showing signs of uncertainty.
Hel spread her black lips wide in a snarling grin. “And what do you think of our throne room, human?”
Sally heard the threat in the simple question. She took her time formulating an answer, something nondescript and inoffensive. “It is truly like nothing I have seen before.”
The answer seemed to please Hel, who rested back in her throne chair and let out a small, bone-cracking chuckle. “What a delight you are! Might we entice you to enjoy our hospitality for a more prolonged visit?”
Sally’s breath caught. She wasn’t sure what she could say that wouldn’t place her in either immediate danger or longer lasting turmoil.
“This is not the proper juncture for the Rune Witch to make such a decision,” Loki said.
Sally tried to conceal her relief, though Loki’s words raised more questions. She added them to the long list of bones she want
ed to pick with her mentor.
“Shall we get on with our business?” he asked.
“If you insist.” Hel looked genuinely disappointed, slumping in her chair and waving a hand in the air. She hissed a series of syllables Sally couldn’t make out and, in a nauseating display of writhing and oozing, Hel’s minions undulated away from her pedestal and back into the shadows. Sally willed herself not to grimace.
“Now we may proceed.” Hel motioned Loki and Sally forward. Sally waited for Loki to make the first move and remained a half-step behind him.
Hel glared down at Sally. “You will give me his power now.”
Thor parked his truck in front of his house and got out to open the back passenger door. The meeting with Heimdall had been a waste of time, though it had been nice to share a meal with his brother alone, away from the Lodge. He disliked thinking negatively about Maggie, but she hadn’t been making it easy on any of them.
Thor knew how lucky he was in Bonnie. She knew who and what he was and had even fought at his side. That she wasn’t an immortal was a point of sadness. And that Maggie might use this fact as ammunition stung Thor worse than the time Baldr transplanted a nest of myrmica rubra fire ants into his helmet as a joke.
So much for Baldr being the “good” son. But if Baldr were still around, maybe the Lodge would be united under him instead of fractured and scattered.
Thor hoisted Magnus down from his car seat and heard the crash of trashcans being overturned somewhere down the street. Night came early so close to winter, and it wasn’t uncommon for urban coyotes and raccoons to start foraging shortly after the sun went down.
He settled Magnus on the sidewalk, straightened his son’s black polyester shirt and red cape, and made the decision to introduce him to the real adventures of the world.
Thor stood up tall and folded his arms over his chest. “So, young Magnus the Brave, would you like to help Thor the Thunderer defend the neighborhood from the scourge of dusk?”
In truth, Thor had no issue with wild scavengers. They had been pushed out of their natural habitats, bit by bit, by the expansion of modern civilizations. Even with strict urban growth boundaries, Portland was no different, and Thor didn’t begrudge a wild thing doing what it needed to do to survive.
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