by ST Bende
In that instant I understood why Ull looked so angry. I’d put him in an impossible position. He planned for every possible outcome when it came to my safety: bodyguards and babysitters, and a carefully orchestrated training regimen to guide me into his world. He walked me to school most days, checked to make sure I was in my flat every night before he went to sleep, and just happened to show up any time I stayed late at the library. In an ordinary boyfriend it would have been cloying, but there was nothing ordinary about Ull. He’d seen, and dealt, fatal blows to more than one immortal. He knew how very fragile my mortality would make me in his world. But at the same time, every step closer to my becoming a god meant we were a step closer to Ull’s worst fear coming true—having me in a situation he couldn’t control.
And here I was, throwing the thing that terrified him the most right in his face.
For the first time, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Maybe going through with this wasn’t the right thing to do. If severing my soul, even to stop Ragnarok, would cause Ull this much worry, then maybe I wasn’t looking out for him at all. Maybe I was being selfish. But what choice did I have? If I didn’t do the job The Fates had unwittingly assigned me, Ragnarok would mark the end of our worlds. It wasn’t like we had a whole lot of options.
I’d asked what would happen if Elfie found my body or my spirit alone. Ull’s reaction had given me my answer. But at the end of the day, the question was moot. Ull had become my entire reason for being. He was so concerned with taking care of me that he didn’t realize that I was set on doing the same for him. Not even the very real likelihood of my death would stop me from doing everything I could do to protect him from Ragnarok.
I crossed the room in quick strides. My fingers grazed the taut muscles of Ull’s chest as I rested my head on his torso. Strong arms wrapped around my lower back, pulling me into the embrace I knew I could never live without. “I’m sorry. I really am. If there were another way to do this, you know I would. But there’s a lot riding on my pulling this off. Our realms need me—”
“I need you,” Ull growled.
“I need you too.” My lips moved against his bicep. “More than you’ll ever know. And I promise I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No matter what I have to do as this Seer person. You’re stuck with me. You have to believe in this; in us.”
“I want to.” Ull looked haunted.
“That’s good enough for now.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Now this spirit-splitting trick—is it a god thing?” Surely no mortal had ever done something so magical.
“No.” Ull went back to preparing the tea. “Humans could visit the tenth realm, with proper training. But few have the necessary discipline to do it safely.”
“So it’s something I could do now? Before you change me?” My desperation to get some kind of control over my mental handicap crawled over my concern for Ull’s feelings like the feral squirrel that lived behind the Nehalem General Store. That thing was vicious.
“Absolutely not. Sending your spirit to the plane is risky enough for a mortal, but for someone of your abilities… . Kristia, if our enemies got wind that the Seer sent her unprotected spirit—” Ull exhaled sharply. “They could kidnap that part of you. You would be incomplete, and they would have control over your powers. I do not want to think about what they could do to you.”
“But Ull, if there’s anything I can do to help your family…”
Ull gripped the handle of the teapot so tightly his knuckles cracked.
“Kristia,” Olaug interrupted gently. “It isn’t a good idea for you to try anything of this magnitude while you are mortal. You are too valuable to the realm to take that risk. Much is resting on you.”
“There has to be something I can do now. I feel so helpless.”
“Well, it would fall strictly under Elsker’s purview,” Olaug hesitated. “But maybe she and I could at least explain to you how the visions will work once you have access to the alternate realm. Now, I don’t want you attempting to separate from your body, understand that. But we can give you a bit of an overview of how the process will work, so you can mentally prepare yourself.”
“That would be great.” Anything to quell this feeling of being totally useless in the face of an impending apocalypse. “Thanks.”
The sound of grinding teeth came from my betrothed.
“I promised I would prepare her, Ull. You must allow me to do the job you asked me to do,” Olaug pointed out.
“I know,” Ull grunted. “But I get to be here when you work.”
“Oh, no. I cannot adequately prepare her with you glaring over my shoulder.” Olaug planted a hand on her waist. I eyed Ull warily. He was definitely glaring. Was there any way to circumvent his overprotective nature and let Olaug work in peace?
I rubbed at my temples as a barrage of needles pounded inside my head. As quickly as it had come the pain passed, but in the interim I’d had an insight. Lovely. If I tried to force the visions, I got a migraine.
No matter. I pushed through the discomfort. “Okay. Ull is going to start taking long walks alone to think about Ragnarok. He won’t want me to see how worried he is, so he’ll go off by himself for about an hour every week.”
“Why are you talking about me as if I am not here?” Ull crossed his arms.
“How do you know this?” Olaug ignored the irritated idol behind her.
I tapped my head. “I had another vision.”
“Oh, all right. I will speak with Elsker. If she approves then the three of us shall talk—talk only, Kristia—about your visions when Ull takes his walks.”
“I am not planning to take any walks,” Ull declared.
“You will.”
“This is going to be beyond irritating,” Ull muttered.
“You’re stuck with me now.”
He knew I had him there.
When I stifled my third yawn of the evening, we retreated to the upstairs kitchen for waffles. I was exhausted, as I knew my companions would be too, if not for their super-human abilities. Olaug stayed to eat with us, then began the short walk across the way to her own home. When she had gone, Ull and I sat on the porch swing in the garden, listening to the nightingales. The low, stone path was lined with white roses and lavender, and Ull had left the twinkling lights up in the ancient yew dale. They were a nice touch.
“What a day.” My voice was barely a whisper as Ull rubbed my shoulders. Everything was so peaceful. I didn’t want to break the evening’s spell.
“Is this too much? You do not have to do this. We—”
I silenced him with a finger to his lips. “It is too much.”
A tense line formed between Ull’s eyebrows. “I knew it. Listen, you have another option. There is a safe house in every quadrant of your realm. We can go to one, live out our lives as mortals. Nobody outside Odin’s council knows the safe houses exist, so I can promise you absolute security.”
“Until the wolf and the snake get hungry and Ragnarok kicks off.” I shook my head. “You didn’t let me finish. This is too much—learning about thousands of years of attacks on your realm; hearing all the ways I could, and very likely will, die; finding out I’m going to do some weird soul-splitting exercise that’s going to leave me completely exposed to Elfie… it’s complete and total madness.”
“I will take you away right now.” Ull rose to his feet. He took a step toward the cottage, but I grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. He fell onto the swing with a heavy thud, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open. “Kristia!”
“Let me finish.” I repeated. “It’s way too much—but I always knew it would be. I walked into this deal with my eyes open. You don’t get engaged to an actual Norse god without expecting some rough patches. For better or worse, right?”
Ull closed his eyes. “My ‘worse’ is not exactly the run-of-the-mill marital problem.”
“I know that.” I twined my fingers through his hair and swung my legs across his lap. He wrapped one arm around me from b
ehind. The slow burn ebbing across my backside traveled down my legs, leaving a tingling sensation from hip to toe. The things this god could do to me…
“I want so much better for you than the life I am able to offer.” Ull brushed his lips against my ear. “I want to give you the universe. Instead, I am asking you to risk your life. It is not fair.”
“Life’s not fair,” I repeated his long-ago words. “And that’s okay with me. You, Ull Myhr, are a god worth risking it all for.”
“I want more for you,” Ull breathed into my ear.
“You are my more.” I turned so our lips were nearly touching. My nose brushed against his as I gazed up into the face that held my confidences, hopes, and fears in one delicious, heart-stopping package. “And I’m more than willing to take this on. I don’t care what happens to me in that tenth realm. Our worlds are on the brink of war, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you and I have a shot at our happy-ever-after. I’m doing this for our family. I’m doing this for us. And when it’s over, you’re going to take me to that safe house, turn off your phone, and ignore Odin, or Heimdall, or Santa Claus, or whoever else you do business with for a very long time.” I kissed his bottom lip, running my tongue over the pale flesh. He tasted like lingonberry jam and waffles: savory. Tart. Amazing.
“Are you certain?” Ull murmured, his tongue moving against mine. For a moment I indulged in the sensations Ull stirred in me. I took his lip between my teeth, tugging gently as I pulled my head back. He let out a groan and hiked me up on his lap, squeezing my behind as he did. My fingers gripped his hair, blond silky strands wrapping around the diamonds in my ring. I pulled his mouth back to mine, warm tongues and soft lips moving together. I could have stayed right there forever.
With a heavy breath, Ull gently lifted me off his lap. He set me down on the bench beside him and cupped my cheek with one hand. “Are you certain?”
My fingers brushed the stubble of his cheek as I fought to remember what exactly I was supposed to be certain of. Oh. Right. Imminent death for the sake of our future. No problem. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to be your equal in every way. And being your partner, helping you… it’s going to be amazing.” I pulled my finger back and kissed him gently, then nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck.
Ull lifted my chin with a finger. “What are you feeling?”
“Happy.” I gazed into his endless eyes.
“I mean, what are you feeling about all of this? Becoming a goddess? Fighting for Asgard?”
“I’m a little nervous,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to be of any use to your family. I don’t want to let you down.”
“You could never, my love. You have no idea what it means that you would take all of this on for me. But you must know that you do not have to do this. I do not want you to be afraid.”
“I would do anything for you.”
“And I for you.”
Ull lowered his mouth to mine. I breathed in his woodsy scent and parted my lips, inviting him back in. He reached up to caress my hair. I wrapped my fingers around the collar of his sweater and pulled myself closer. He groaned, and this time the sound was too much. I climbed onto his lap and nestled against him, relishing the feel of his muscles against my torso. He grabbed my head and leaned me back in the swing, supporting me with his arm. He held me at an angle, kissing me with such purpose my brain was quickly devoid of oxygen.
“Ull,” I panted. I wished more than anything I didn’t have to breathe. Ull pulled back, disheveled hair falling to his cheekbones and desire burning in his eyes.
“Kristia Tostenson,” he growled softly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I am the luckiest god alive.”
He righted me, carefully tucking me under one arm. I brushed my face against his cashmere sweater and smiled. I couldn’t help but feel lucky, too.
“So you really don’t need anything? Anything at all?” My best friend sounded incredulous.
“Honest, Ardis. We’re good.” I sat on the guest bed at Ýdalir with my manicure kit spread before me. I tucked my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I used a cotton swab to remove my nail polish. Since I’d started wearing Ull’s ring, I’d taken a lot more interest in the state of my nails.
“You don’t need me to comb through wedding websites with you? Maybe help pick out flowers? Peonies are huge this season.”
“How do you know that? Are you reading wedding magazines? Because I’m pretty sure that’s what the cover of Emma’s new one said.”
“I might have picked up a few since you got engaged,” Ardis admitted. “What? Those suckers are addictive!”
“Apparently.” I laughed. “Victoria and Emma are still buying them every week from our corner market. They’re not even pretending they’re for me at this point. I hardly ever look at them.”
“Why not? Aren’t you excited about your wedding?”
“Of course I am! I’m excited about our wedding. The simple little ceremony we’re having for our immediate family and best friends. No magazines required.” I could picture Ardis tugging on her lip on the other end of the line.
“Who’s going with you to try on dresses?” she demanded.
“I’m wearing my grandmother’s dress,” I reminded her. “Olaug is going to make a bouquet of roses from the garden. And Inga’s taking care of the stuff Ull and I don’t care about, like the cake and the decorations.”
“Who doesn’t care about her own wedding decorations?” Ardis sounded perplexed.
I laughed.
“No, I get it. This is you. You see the big picture and don’t get bogged down by the little things. You’ve always been like that.” Ardis sighed. “I’m so excited for you, Kristia. Life wasn’t easy on you growing up. You deserve a happy ending.”
“I don’t know how much I deserve this. But I’m sure as daylight grateful I get to marry Ull.” I slicked a glossy base coat over my pinky.
“Sounds like he’s one in a million.” I could hear my friend’s smile.
“You have no idea,” I mumbled. “So what about you? Are you seeing anyone new?”
Ardis launched into a story about the three dates she’d been on that week. I settled into the pillows and giggled as I waited for my nails to dry. We might have been different as night and day, but I missed my best friend like crazy. I absolutely couldn’t wait to see her at the wedding.
Cold air pushed past my face as I tumbled through the darkness. It whipped my silk pajama bottoms against my legs, the thin fabric offering little protection against the chill. My fingernails dug into my bare arms in a pointless effort to still the goose pimples. I fell in slow motion, a kind of measured traverse, making my way down a black chasm.
When I accepted I might never stop this unending descent, my body jerked upward. It hovered in the abyss, weightless and waiting. After an interminable moment, I heard a loud snap. It sounded like a clap of thunder, or the slam of a nearby door. Whatever it was, it put an end to the purgatory. I dropped to the ground, landing feet-first in what appeared to be a forest. It had the requisite trees, but everything was a little bit off—like I was seeing things through a looking glass. The trees were taller than I was used to—redwood giants like the ones back home, but instead of green moss growing around their trunks these were cloaked in purplish leaves. They stretched thirty feet upward from the thick roots, forming a checkerboard pattern along the lush bark. The ground was swathed in vegetation, weaving a tapestry from the ground where I stood to a grey stone wall. Over the top of the wall I could see a structure of connected towers and spires—a castle? A cacophony of grunts came from within the castle walls. Whoever was on the other side was engaged in intense physical activity. Something told me it wasn’t lawn bowling.
Where had my mental tic taken me now?
I scanned the area between the trees and the wall. It was empty, save for the peculiar plants and a cluster of oversized rocks. An unnaturally large bird circl
ed overhead; it was easily the size of a small truck. It traced a path across the ginger sky. Was it dawn? Dusk? I’d never seen the sky quite that color before.
My eyes followed the bird as it flew over the castle wall. When it crossed the plane, an arrow shot from somewhere in the courtyard. It arced toward the animal fast as a fiddle, and pierced the bird just as it was about to land on one of the towers. The bird bucked at the impact. With wings still mid-flap, it spiraled down to the ground where it landed with a thud loud as a fallen sequoia.
“Arkeya!” Came the cry from inside the wall. The deafening pounding of feet alerted me to the number of occupants in the courtyard. There must have been a hundred people in there. I crept toward the wall, my head swiveling back and forth to make sure I wasn’t being watched. But save for the bird that didn’t make it, I hadn’t actually seen another living being.
What was this place?
The wall must have been twenty-feet high—scaling it unnoticed would have been a tall order for a girl who’d never been accused of being the most graceful goose in the gaggle. But after a bit of searching I found a stone with a chunk missing. It was at calf level, and I crawled until my eye was even with the small opening. I squinted through the hole, wondering how much falling through the black hole had messed with my head. There was no way what my eyes were seeing was any sort of reality.
Inside the courtyard stood not one hundred, but only two-dozen massive creatures. They looked human enough, except for their unkempt hair, boil-ridden skin, and their absolutely massive size. Each one stood twenty-five-feet tall, maybe higher, with arms that dwarfed the trunks of the redwoods and calves easily twice that girth. They were huddled around the fallen truck-bird, ripping pieces of meat from its body and shoving it in their mouths. The sickening crunch of teeth on bone set my ears on edge. As I watched, one pulled a piece of cartilage from his mouth and threw it over his shoulder. It landed directly in front of my peephole; bloody tendons slapped against the wall, temporarily obscuring my vision.