by S. T. Bende
Brynhild stood her ground. “You’re on thin ice, young lady. By all accounts, you should be on probation. You’re lucky Henrik isn’t into you.”
“I never said I wasn’t into her,” Henrik corrected.
My heart leapt into my throat and began a frantic break dance. What?
“What did you say?” Brynhild’s cry echoed my thought.
“I never said I wasn’t into her,” Henrik repeated. “I never said I was into her. I never addressed that subject, nor would I with anyone other than Brynn. What I did say was that I didn’t kiss her back. You think I didn’t know what would happen if I did?”
Brynhild and I probably looked like mirror images, both of our mouths falling open at breakneck speed.
As much as I’d screwed up our easy friendship, was there any chance I still had, well… a chance with Henrik Andersson?
“You’d best be on your way,” Tyr ordered. He walked to the back door and pointed outside. “Don’t let the Bifrost hit you on the way up.”
Brynhild snapped her mouth shut and stormed out the door. She shouted over her shoulder as she marched, “You got off on a technicality, Aksel. Freya is not going to be impressed when she comes back.”
“Don’t forget your pony!” Mia called helpfully. “Elsa and I moved her and Fang to the driveway so they wouldn’t chew up the back lawn.”
Brynhild disappeared from view, then came back leading a black pegasus with a silver rope. She mounted the creature and flew away, no doubt wanting to put as much space as possible between us. She’d probably call for the Bifrost somewhere over the dunes.
“Well…” Tyr shrugged. “That was interesting.”
Henrik turned around. When I dragged my gaze away from my boots, I saw concern in his eyes. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yep,” I squeaked. Humiliation prickled my neck, and if the heat coming off my cheeks was any indication, I was probably ten different shades of red. No point pretending anymore. “I’m just embarrassed,” I admitted. “I didn’t want anybody to know about that. And, well, now you guys, and apparently the valkyrie administration, know what a loser I am.”
“Hey,” Mia protested.
Elsa shook her head. “Stop it, Brynn.”
Henrik took my chin between his thumb and his forefinger. I tried to pull away, but he held tight. “You are not a loser. But you and I both know this isn’t the time to talk about what happened in Alfheim.” He tilted his head toward the couch, and I nodded. I forced my questions into a tight little file and stuffed it deep in the “Deal with Later” drawer. Asgard came first.
It always had.
“Henrik’s right.” I inhaled, willing the heat to ebb from my cheeks. “We learned something in Nidavellir that might lead us to Freya.”
As everyone gathered on the couches, Henrik and I quickly recounted our conversation with Berry. When we’d finished, I leaned back on the couch and took a read of the room. Elsa frowned, her knees tucked to her chin, and her head nestled on Forse’s shoulder. Forse’s brow was furrowed, and he rubbed his forehead in concentration. Mia looked thoughtful, twirling one lock of brown hair. Tyr sat hunched on the couch with his elbows on his knees and a look of fury in his eyes.
“Sounds like it’s time for us to go investigate the situation in Helheim,” Tyr surmised.
“Us? I thought Odin ordered you to stay out of the field?” I blinked.
“Yeah, well, I’m voiding that order. Sending you two to Muspelheim on your own was bad enough. There’s no way I’m letting you head into Helheim without me there to fight along side you.” Tyr’s eyes were steady.
Henrik nodded. “What’s our departure time?”
“How’s Barney coming along?” I asked Mia.
“He’s nearly done.” She smiled. “I was waiting for you and Henrik to make the final solder. We built it together; it didn’t seem right to do it without you.”
“Well then, what are we waiting for?” I stood quickly, ready to take action. And also, ready to leave the scene of today’s humiliation. “Is everything set up in the office?”
Mia nodded.
“Excellent. And when we get back, you and I have something to discuss.” Henrik looked at me levelly. I gulped.
A good something or a bad something? After the way he’d shut down Brynhild, maybe he didn’t think I was a total troll.
I clung to that hope like a dwarf to a gem. I’d keep right on clinging for long as inhumanly possible.
“I know,” I whispered.
Tyr cleared his throat, and I jumped. “Forse, stay back and protect the girls. Don’t let anyone inside the sphere, not even Odin, without my signing off on it first. We’re going to make a lot of enemies where we’re going, and I’m not taking any chances with Elsa and Mia’s safety.”
“Consider it done.” Forse nodded.
“Henrik, Brynn, go upstairs and finish the time freezer with Mia. Then grab every weapon you can fit on your person and meet me on the sand. I’ll call for Heimdall when we’re together.” Tyr crossed to the painting by the staircase, removed it, and pressed his palm to the wall. When the fingerprint scan was complete, the door to the arsenal swung open. Tyr looked over his shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Get moving.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted and followed Mia and Henrik to the office. Barney sat on the desk, a soldering iron nearby.
“Do you want to do the honors?” Mia asked, pointing to the iron.
I shot her a grin. “Nope. This one was your concept. We worked out the älva element and reconfigured the specs together, but the bulk of the design work was yours. You get to drive the golden stake.”
Mia’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Well then, here goes.” She picked up the safety goggles as Henrik and I stepped back. He leaned over to whisper in my ear, and I quelled the ensuing shivers. Control, control, control.
“Good call,” he murmured. “Tyr may not let her walk into combat, but she’s doing everything he will let her do to fight for Asgard. This device means a lot to her.”
I didn’t think Mia couldn’t hear us over the crackling of the iron, but I looked at her just in case. She bit her bottom lip, her focus concentrated on the task in front of her. Whew.
When Mia finished, she held up the device triumphantly. “It’s finished!”
“Extraordinary work, Mia. You must have one Hel of a math tutor.” Henrik winked at Mia, and she stuck out her tongue.
“Something like that,” she laughed.
“Let’s test it out. Mia, may I do the honors?” Henrik reached for Barney.
Mia passed the time freezer. “Now remember, time will freeze for everyone except the person holding the device, and anyone they’re touching at the moment of activation. We programmed it to work like a circuit, with the user being the stop gate. Anything you’re not directly holding on to the instant you activate Barney is fair game for the energy to freeze. Are you comfortable doing it alone?”
“Absolutely.” Henrik winked, and my heart thudded. Gods, my boundaries had no respect for me today. “Are you ladies ready?”
“You know we—” The words stopped in my throat as a weird sensation rippled through my torso. It felt like a wave nudging at my skin, and making its way toward my heart before retreating. “Are,” I finished. “Are you going to do it? Henrik?”
I looked around, but Henrik was gone. He’d been standing to my right just a second ago, but I hadn’t seen him move to my left. He must have blurred.
Henrik chuckled, and Mia and I stared at him in confusion. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Barney works.” Henrik laughed. “And you should see your faces right now.”
I touched my cheek, a warm sensation filling my fingertips. I felt inexplicably happy. “Wait. You just froze time?”
“I did,” Henrik confirmed. “This baby is pure gold.” He held up his hand and Mia slapped it in a high five. “Fang’s out front, ja, Mia?”
“The pony? Yes. He’s tied up to the front
fence,” Mia said.
Henrik grinned. “Great. Brynnie, grab Fang. I’ll get the weapons and meet you out back.”
“I dropped my backpack on the way in,” I remembered. “The particle accelerator probably needs ammo.”
“On it.” Henrik strode out of the room, and I moved to follow.
Mia grabbed my arm as I walked past. “Brynn,” she murmured. “Please be careful. I want you and Henrik to get your happily-evah-aftah, and you can’t do that if you’re dead.”
“I have no intention of dying today,” I reassured her. “And I’d like that happily-ever-after as much as the next girl, but it’s probably not happening with Henrik. The Brynhilds of the world aren’t exactly doing me any favors.”
“I thought she was supposed to be the ‘fairest of all the valkyries.’” Mia quoted her book. “She’s not that pretty, if you ask me. Henrik doesn’t think so either. Did you see how he shot her down?”
“Yeah, well.” I shifted from one foot to the other. “The line of gorgeous goddesses angling for Henrik’s heart stretches a mile long. She wasn’t the first, and she won’t be the last.”
“But the question is, which gorgeous goddess does he want?” Mia stared at me pointedly.
“Not me, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I walked toward the door with a sigh.
Mia huffed behind me. “I swear, Asgardians are so dense.”
I kept walking, but I couldn’t help appreciating Mia’s optimism. She was a good egg—I was glad Tyr had brought her into the fold.
I hoped we didn’t run her off with all the weird.
“Take care of Forse and Elsa,” I called over my shoulder. I ran outside, and untied Fang with a joyful squeal. “I missed you,” I cried, as I patted her smooth white neck. She nuzzled my head, then followed as I led her to the backyard. When I reached the sand, Tyr and Henrik stood in an open area.
“Hold on, Brynn. I want Fang to stay here and protect the compound,” Tyr spoke authoritatively.
“But I just got her back! And we could use her where we’re going. Odin only knows what we’re going to find, but my money’s on a lot of dragons. A set of wings could come in handy,” I countered.
“I can fly us wherever we need to go. Besides, once we reach Helheim, word of our presence will spread. And I’m sure there are plenty of enemies who’d love to take a crack at Mia and Elsa in our absence.” Tyr made a good point.
“But nobody knows where we are. The compound’s shielded and…” I faded off. “I get it. You can’t be too safe. Fang, stay here. Protect the girls. If need be, herd them up and take them straight to Asgard. Heimdall will see you coming and make sure they’re admitted.”
Fang whinnied anxiously, and I patted her neck. “I’ll be fine, I promise. We’ll eat marshmallows when I get home. Now go.”
I released her reins and she flew back to the house, positioned herself on the grass, and stood. Good girl.
“You ready?” Henrik held out my backpack and I shouldered it.
“As I’ll ever be.” I nodded, ignoring the way my skin tingled when he bumped against me. Keep your energy to yourself, Aksel.
“Heimdall,” Tyr called. “Open the Bifrost.”
I held my breath as the brilliant light beamed down from the sky.
“To Helheim!” Tyr cried. I closed my eyes as the light sucked us up through the sky, then deposited us in a realm so cold and dreary, my spirits sank on touchdown.
We weren’t in Midgard anymore. This was Helheim.
And we had the fight of our lives ahead of us.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“FÖRBASKAT, HEIMDALL! I MEANT Hel’s gate. Not the outlands!” Tyr’s voice thundered across the tundra. He sounded ticked, and rightfully so. Being on the outlands of Helheim was an absolute Asgardian nightmare.
Humans had it all wrong. Helheim wasn’t the fiery, blazing pit of despair they imagined their Hell to be. It was actually really beautiful. And really cold. Helheim was a realm of primordial ice, its snowy landscape broken up by breathtaking mountains and icicle-laden trees that resembled the sequoias on Midgard, only with purple needles instead of green ones. It was located in the center of a realm called Niflheim, gifted by Odin to Loki and the giantess Angrboða’s daughter, Hel. Hel ran the realm like the raging head case she was—I’d never met her in person, but I heard she was a terrifying half-god, half-skeleton hybrid. And that wasn’t a dig at her weight; I’d read in my textbooks that the left side of her body was only her bones.
I’d seen weird in my day, but coming face-to-face with that might just land me in one of the healers’ padded rooms for a little vacation.
“Dang it!” I hissed. My boots skidded across bulletproof ice as I struggled to find my footing. I placed one heel carefully on the slippery surface, and immediately found myself on my backside. Ouch. There would be a fat bruise on my butt in the morning. I looked to Henrik for help, but he was flailing around like a cartoon character. Tyr fared no better, lying flat on his back and swearing at the guardian of the Bifrost after taking his own tumble. This was bizarre.
Being Asgardians, cold weather elements weren’t usually a problem for us. Our people did snow and ice like nobody’s business. But things here were different. Everything in this realm felt completely foreign, from the abysmal aura and discolored flora, to the oppressive feeling of despair settling on my heart like a lead blanket, to the discombobulating ice.
I tucked my feet beneath me and pressed both palms to the frozen surface to push myself up. In seconds, I was right back on my bottom. I couldn’t stand up to save my life.
“Tyr!” I shouted as a dense black shadow leapt from the branch of an eggplant-colored pine tree. “Encase us!”
“Skit,” Henrik muttered. From his prone position, he had the perfect vantage point of the specter’s descent. “Not those things again.”
Tyr acted fast, wrangling himself to an unsteady crouch and aiming his palm at the sky. A silvery haze flew from his fingertips, but the motion threw him off balance, and he fell back on his butt before the magic could form a full protective dome. Instead the haze flickered, and struck the shadow, grazing its wing-shaped shoulder. The impact altered the specter’s trajectory. Now it spiraled to the left, heading toward the pine tree with ever-increasing speed. On impact, the shadow shattered into shards of ash, slicing the top third of the tree clean off.
“Henrik!” I bellowed. The treetop was falling, and if it stayed its course, it would land on top of my partner. Henrik looked up from dragging his body across the ice by his fingertips—we’d all figured out there was no point in trying to walk. As he raised his arms to absorb the tree’s impact, Tyr narrowed his eyes and held up his palm.
“On it,” Tyr muttered, throwing up a protection. This time, the silvery dome formed just before the tree could pin the legs of the god I’d loved for centuries.
“Well, thanks for that,” Henrik said, as he clawed his way to my side. Tyr bum-scooted over, so the three of us were huddled close together under the dome’s safety. “I’d hate to design Fred 2.0: The Leg Version.”
“Ha ha ha.” Tyr waggled the fingers of his prosthetic arm. “Now put your strangely advanced brains to work and tell me why we can’t walk on this ice.”
I swiped the ground and held my hand up to my face. Tiny granules of ice stuck to my fingers, but they didn’t feel cold. In fact… I wiggled experimentally on my bottom. No freaking way. “Henrik, look at this.” I held my hand out, and he took it in both of his. I half-expected the slow heat radiating from his touch to melt the crystals.
“What exactly am I looking at?” he questioned.
“Irid crystals.” I waited for his reaction.
“No. They don’t exist.” Henrik shook his head. Then he inched closer, staring at my fingertips in awe. “They don’t exist?” This time it was a question.
“Then you tell me what I’m looking at. Because unless you can think of another molecule that’s shatter-proof, temperature-proof, and by all acc
ounts, Asgardian-proof, I’m all ears.” I waited.
Henrik delivered.
“Holy Mother Frigga, they do exist.” He dropped my hand and ran his fingers through his hair. It got wilder with every leg of our Find Freya tour. “Why didn’t either of us ever think to check Helheim?”
“Um, because neither of us are stupid enough to go to Helheim on purpose?” I pointed out. “Henrik, do you realize what this means?”
“Hel, ja. If we collect sufficient samples we can complete production on the freezing beam, melting bow, and the climate suit. We can finally initiate research on the volcanoes of Muspelheim because we’ll be insulated against the heat, and we can determine the elemental properties that make irid crystals impervious to Asgardian magic. Gods, Brynnie. There are so many possibilities.”
“I know! We can isolate the source of the frost giants’ power. We’ve never been able to pass through the gate to Jotunheim’s treasure vault, because any warrior that enters goes into hypothermic shock on entry. Seriously ingenious system.” I shivered.
“Don’t remind me,” Henrik muttered. I knew he’d been that frozen soldier on at least one mission, maybe more.
“Hey, Brynnrik. Would you two geniuses care to fill the halfling in on what’s going on?” Tyr tapped his finger on his temple. We must have been quite the trio—Asgard’s largest protector glaring in frustration while Henrik and I babbled excitedly, heads together, about the scientific advancements discovery of the irid crystals would bring to Asgard.
“Oh! Sorry! This is jus—”
“Huge.” Henrik finished my sentence. “This is just huge. Possibly the hugest discovery in Asgardian science this century.”
“Century?” I balked. “Millennia! This opens us up to endless possibilities for inter-realm exploration. Think of all the planets circling Muspelheim, Jotunheim, even Svartalfheim that have been off-limits before now due to climatic issues. We can send in teams to neutralize the outposts the giants think we don’t know about.”