by Ali Cross
“Great King.” I took five steps toward Odin, then dropped to my knee as Fahria had done only moments before. “Forgive me, but I would like your permission to slip into the throng and join them on their path to Helheimer. Perhaps I could . . .” Reason was not with me and my mind grappled to find some argument that would hold sway over my king. “Perhaps you would allow me to enter Helheimer and discover for myself if Desolation yet lives.”
Silence fell around me like a wet cape and my heart began to slow as sorrow took the place of the hope that had so recently swelled within me. When Odin’s hand fell gently onto my head, I knew. My request would be denied.
“Look at me, my son.” I did as Odin commanded.
“You may not go to that place if you ever hope to return. At least, as yourself. Go, and you sacrifice all that you are. Stay. Allow someone to go in your stead, and you may yet see Desolation again.”
“I don’t care for myself, Lord. It is I that caused her to be there—if that’s where she is. It’s the only place we haven’t searched and now with the forces . . . it would be a perfect opportunity to enter without notice. Great King,” I raised my gaze to his as I pressed all my hope, all my need into it. He had to let me go. Had to understand why it must be me.
“It was my weapon that let Loki’s poison into her soul. My hand that drove it in. Whatever she has Become, whatever has happened to her since that night—it is my burden to bear. It is my responsibility to return her, to make things right, as best I can.”
Odin sighed, but then straightened, smoothing the folds of his tunic. He stood tall and when his gaze returned to mine, I knew it was my king who stood before me, King of Asgard and Regent of Midgard. “I am sorry Michael.” His voice held the resolute tone he always adopted when issuing orders or establishing law. “I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself in this way. Rest assured, as soon as it is possible, an envoy will be sent and every attempt will be made to locate Desolation—but you will remain here.” He turned on his heel to leave. “We will find her. Until then, I have need of your expertise as my general while we formulate the best way to respond to Helena’s actions.” When he reached the doorway, he turned back. “All will be made clear very soon.” With that he strode from the room, leaving me reeling and utterly crushed.
Heimdall laid his large hand on my shoulder. Despite its great weight, his hand brought me comfort. “There may yet be a way.”
Horonius shook his head. “How can all of you not know? The young mistress is very much alive and I know exactly where she is.”
The little creature cocks its head, a sly grin snaking across its sharp features.
“It’s okay. It’s all right,” I croon.
It takes a hesitant step forward. Then another. All the while its black eyes stare, testing me, judging me. We have been getting to know one another for so long now, I’m surprised when it creeps forward and reaches below the ledge to touch the tip of one of my fingers. This is the first time. The first time any one of them has touched me.
And it is the first time I have felt any sensation beyond the metal at my wrists, my hair on my face, my tears on my cheeks.
I laugh out loud and the creature jumps backward, startled. “No, no. It’s okay, it’s okay.” But the little one has dashed to the cairn of rocks that tumble down the side of the doorway on the ledge opposite me—rocks I assume are its family, because that’s the same pile the little genii always resolves from.
I am beyond sad that I scared the creature away. I wanted nothing more than to make a friend. To touch . . . anything. I am tired of the few sensations I have. Shedding another tear is as common to me now as the endlessness of the space around me.
Unchanging and eternal.
I close my eyes, or they remain open.
I sleep or stay wide awake.
I dream or imagine I live a thousand lifetimes as someone else, as no one else, with Michael or without him. Without love. An eternity has passed.
Or no time at all.
All or nothing I can’t be sure.
But then there is something else.
A light.
And then two.
Come on, bright eyes. Talk to me. Tell me what you saw.” Mir lay curled in the middle of our bed, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, the sheet soaked with tears where her cheek rested. I stroked her back and willed her to talk to me, to let me help her carry this burden.
She’d gone months without a single dream. Things had seemed so quiet on the demon-front that we even thought we could leave Desert Peak. Thought we could take a break from The Hallowed. Thought all that crazy stuff was behind us.
We’d had three weeks of awesome in Paris. The flat we’d rented was about two feet by two feet but it was right in the heart of the art district—four blocks from the culinary institute and zero blocks from Miri’s art teacher. It had been perfect. Better than perfect. It had been heaven.
And now this.
I woke early in the morning to find Miri sitting up in bed, her hands clutched to her throat as if someone were strangling her. Her mouth hung open in a soundless scream. To say I was freaked would be a major understatement.
I shook her, called to her, even shouted at her.
And then all of a sudden she collapsed into my arms. Moments later she wiggled herself free and assumed a fetal position, gently rocking her body while sobs sent tremors through her body.
“Come on, baby. Come on bright eyes. Tell me what it was.” Because it had to be a dream—the not-normal kind. Had to be. The cold crawly feeling making the hair on my arms stand up confirmed it. This had The Hallowed and bad guys and Desi written all over it.
I’d known it wouldn’t last forever, this little escape of ours. But I had hoped it would last long enough for us to get a summer of happiness out of it.
Miri’s dad would pretty much kill her if he knew she and I were living together—even though he’d barely blinked when she told him straight to his face that she was going to Paris for the summer whether he liked it or not. I didn’t even think he had her address. Though maybe Connie, her maid, had it. Who knew?
Up until this moment I kind of secretly agreed with her dad. When I told her I’d been accepted into Le Cordon Blue, only the best culinary school in the whole world, she’d insisted she come too. “We can’t live together,” I told her as she lay on the couch with me, our bodies so close there wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t feel her. “I’ll come back every month. I promise. We’ll FaceTime or Skype every day. We’ll be okay.”
She looked at me with the biggest diamond puppy dog eyes ever and I knew I’d give her whatever she wanted—even if I had already told her the answer was definitely no.
“Do you know what it would do to me to sleep with you every night and not—you know?” Miri and I had danced around this subject at least a million times since the very first days we went out. She knew who I’d been before I met her. Heck, I’d still been that guy. We never talked about it, but she knew. She had to know.
“I’m a guy, Mir. I can’t just lie next to you and not touch you.”
“Well, you can touch me.” She looked at me with that infuriating blend of cute and sexy that drove me wild. Except right then it only pissed me off. I raked my hands through my hair, something I rarely did because I didn’t like to mess it up.
“You don’t get it.” I’d untangled myself from her legs and jumped up from the couch. “Don’t come with me, unless you’re saying we can have sex.”
But she wouldn’t say that. And I didn’t want her to say it. Miri was saving herself for marriage—for me, but when the time was “right”. As in, after the ceremony. And I was determined to let her keep that vow—to be worthy of her. And determined to marry her the second she turned eighteen and could get out of her dad’s house. Maybe we should just set a date so I could start a countdown calendar or something.
Yet here she was, curled up beside me, on my—our—bed. She’d gotten her way. I probably caved mere minu
tes after that last conversation, I couldn’t remember.
So I took a lot of freezing cold showers. And sometimes I went for a walk while she fell asleep so we wouldn’t make out. There was nothing more tempting than those sleepy moments before and after sleep. The mornings were the most difficult—but now, right after this terrifying vision of hers? Well, I was glad she wasn’t alone. Glad I’d suffered through all those freezing showers, all those late night walks while I missed out on those precious falling-asleep moments with her.
This was the primo reason for living with her, so she wouldn’t have to be alone when something this scary happened.
Except now she wouldn’t even let me touch her, hold her. Sensing she wasn’t going to talk to me anytime soon, I left the apartment and walked to the café on the corner. A dog sat in the doorway of the building across from ours, and followed me as I walked down the street. It kept ten feet behind me, but stopped whenever I stopped. Sat down whenever I looked over my shoulder. It was weird, but nothing to freak about—until I left the café with a bag of warm bagels with to-die-for cream cheese the shop owner made himself, a coffee for me and an extra-large extra-chocolate chocolat chaud for Miri, in my hands. The dog was still sitting there.
It had to be a Doberman or something, even though it seemed like it was twice the regular size. Not that I’m an expert on dogs or anything. Still, there’d been enough of Daniel’s clients who went around with these butched-out dogs to intimidate any idiots who might try to step into their personal space.
I walked right up to the dog. “What are you staring at?” It looked at me and I could have sworn I saw understanding in its eyes. Totally creeped me out. “Whatever.” I moved away from the dog, a vague memory of someone saying you should never turn your back on a wild animal or else it would look like weakness, making its oh-so-helpful way through my mind. At least I remembered not to run.
By the time I reached our building I felt completely on edge, expecting the dog to pounce any second. I refused to look back.
At the outer door, I balanced the cups in my arms, my chin resting on the top cup to keep them upright while I finagled the key in the lock and got it open. As I propped the door open with my foot so I could go inside, the dog dashed past me and ran up the stairs.
“What the—” I looked around, hoping someone else had seen how crazy this dog was, but I was alone. I walked up the three flights to our floor, shaking my head and cursing under my breath the whole way.
When I got to our floor, the dog was there. Sitting. Waiting.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, spooky pooch, but get lost.” I stood on the landing, talking loudly and making shooing motions as best I could with my hands full, hoping the dog would take off. No way did I want that thing dashing into the apartment. But the dog didn’t budge.
Miri opened the door. “What are you doing out here? We’ve got—” And of course the dog shot past her, nearly knocking her off her feet. “Whoa!”
“That’s what I was doing—trying to get this freakin’ dog out of here. You will not believe how weird it is.” I’d only taken two steps into the apartment before I realized we weren’t alone. And I’m not just talking about the crazy dog.
There, standing in front of the window, stood a man—an unnaturally tall and unnaturally beautiful, man. With the crazy-ass dog at his feet.
For a split second I froze, didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink.
“James? This is li’Morl—did I say that right?” She smiled one of her world-class smiles and the man returned an equally dazzling one. That got me moving forward, setting the bag of bagels and the drinks down on the coffee table, my hands shaking. I stood up slowly, trying to prepare myself for whatever this visit might mean. Was this a good guy, or a bad guy? A friend of Loki’s? Or Michael’s? But it was the last thought—has Desi been found?—that got me straightening and adopting my bad-ass persona.
“What kind of name is li’Morl? And your dog is seriously creepy.” I knew I was rude. Could see it in Miri’s disappointed expression. But the dog had followed me, looked at me with such intelligence—more brains than any dog ought to have. And here was this guy who reeked of self-confidence and other-worldliness and made me feel weak-in-the-knees as if my heart and mind weren’t my own anymore. I’d known people like him—pushers, dealers, controllers. It didn’t matter how beautiful he was. How much I wanted him to smile and make me feel all warm and fuzzy. What mattered was he was a strange dude with an even stranger dog and my girlfriend had invited him inside when she was all alone. I stepped up to Miri and put my arm around her shoulders. li’Morl’s lips curled into a kind smile, but I still didn’t trust him.
I knew my stance looked possessive. Knew I probably looked wary and unwilling to hear what he had to say, but only because I knew whatever it was that brought him here—the morning of Miri’s first vision in eight months—couldn’t be anything good.
“Spill,” Miri said, beating me to it. “You said you’d tell me why you’re here when James got back. Please tell me you’ve found her.”
li’Morl reached out and took Miri’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he said. He motioned to the couch, the only thing to sit on besides the bed and coffee table. “Can we sit?”
Miri and li’Morl sat on the couch, I pushed the bag and drinks aside and sat on the coffee table. I should offer the guy a coffee, knew it was rude not to, but I couldn’t/wouldn’t take my eyes off of him. “It’s all right, James,” li’Morl said as he leaned forward and put his hand on my knee. I fought to ignore the spark of electricity, the injection of pure contentment that spread through my veins at his touch. “I don’t want a coffee.”
Damn. The dude could read minds.
li’Morl leaned back and I took a deep breath. Cleared my throat—and my mind. “Uh, I got enough bagels for everyone, though.” I handed Miri her cup and she studied me as she took a sip. She’d rip into me later, I knew. She was a big sucker for good manners. I was just a sucker for keeping her safe.
I opened the bag and saw the dog, now sitting at li’Morl’s elbow, staring at me. “What the heck is up with your dog? Did you know it followed me all the way to the café and back? It totally freaked me out.”
li’Morl and the dog stared at each other for a freaky let’s-talk-with-our-minds second until li’Morl gave an almost imperceptible nod. I might’ve missed it if I hadn’t already watching him so closely.
When li’Morl looked back at me, he seemed to have decided something and in that moment I thought he looked a little less human than he had a second ago. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a read on just what kind of man—or not-man—this guy was.
“This hound is why I am here,” he said. “He believes we have made the right choice in coming to you.”
“The dog’s why you’re here? ’Cause Mir and I aren’t really into dogs.”
“I like dogs.” Miri acted like it was a crime or something to not like dogs.
li’Morl chuckled softy and looked down at his hands in his lap. “I am here to ask you something James, but it’s not to watch over . . . my dog.” He glanced at the Doberman. “But first. You had a dream? Do you have these dreams often?” He angled his body so he could look Miri square in the face. He took one of her hands in both of his. I saw the way she sighed, the way her body relaxed with his touch. He was working some kind of mojo on her.
I reached out, pulled her cup from her other hand and intertwined my fingers through hers. That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced at me, gave a shaky smile, then took a deep breath. “I used to have them more often—when Desi was around, when I worked with the, uh, The Hallowed.”
“Wait a second.” I shook my head, trying to get all the pieces to line up better because right now nothing made sense. “Don’t say anymore, Mir.” To li’Morl I said, “You never did say who you are. And what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Who sent you?”
“James!” Miri pulled her hand fr
om li’Morl and slugged me in the thigh.
li’Morl held up his hands, begging Miri to relax. “My apologies. How rude of me not to introduce myself.” He stood, and I stood, each of us invading the other’s space as we made room for our bodies in the narrow area between the coffee table and couch. He was taller than me, and way more beautiful. His silver hair stood in awesome spikes and briefly, a split second, I wondered how he got it to look so good. Plus, he didn’t look old. A dye-job? I wondered.
His flawless skin practically glowed and his silvery-blue eyes peering into mine made it impossible to look away.
In a voice as soft as the downy duvet on our bed, li’Morl spoke. “I am an emissary from the Great King Odin. I am not a Gardian, I am merely lending my assistance. My task is to visit you, and convince you to perform a dangerous duty, one you may not survive. It is a thankless task, as there is never just reward for sacrificing yourself for someone else.”
He paused, smiling, as if his words made any freaking sense at all.
“But Desolation’s contribution to the world—to all the worlds—is deemed to be of great value. I trust you agree?”
I coughed. Cleared my throat. He expected an answer and oh, I wanted to give him one, but my mind felt numb and sticky, like gummy bears had melted all over it. “Uh . . .”
“You know where Desi is?” Miri’s voice sounded like it came from far away, but it pierced through the fuzziness in my head and got me turning away from li’Morl. I sank to the table and took Miri’s hand in mine again. I resisted sighing with relief and avoided making eye contact with li’Morl.
He sat back down beside Miri. “We have excellent information that indicates where she might be, yes.”
“And you’re going to rescue her, right? You have to rescue her.”
“Tell me of your dream,” li’Morl prompted.
I dreaded the words Miri would say next, but then I realized—there was a weird guy here who claimed to have been sent by Odin. And he had a freaky dog with him. Dream or not, things were about to change and nothing could stop that now. So I took a drink of my coffee to cover up the way my Adam’s apple bobbed in my suddenly dry throat, because I felt utterly scared to death of how everything would change.