by J. L. Murray
“If they are searching for me, they will find me again,” said Eleni. She turned from the girl and finished tying her dress. “A bauble cannot protect me forever. And I would not wish it to.”
“Then let me come with you,” said Iren. Eleni turned quickly to look at her. “Please,” said Iren. “I could help. You've seen how skilled I am with a bow.”
Eleni narrowed her eyes at the child. “Never forget all the choices you have,” said Eleni. “You can stay and be a wife, you can leave and be yourself. You can go wherever you like, see whatever you want to see.”
“But you're a goddess,” said Iren softly, her voice quavering. She shrank back from Eleni now. “You can do whatever you please.”
“It would please me to have had a choice,” said Eleni. “This talking is pointless. If you go, you could be killed. Take from that what you will. Your will is your own.” She left the tent, ducking through the flap and headed toward the noise outside.
It had snowed. The world had changed to something far more glorious than when Eleni had gone to sleep. It covered her tent in a thick blanket, along with all the other dwellings. Eleni hiked up her skirt and walked through the fresh drifts. She could tell it was cold, but it didn't bother her. She felt the solidity of the snow turn liquid as it met the heat of her bare feet. When she stepped down she could feel the ground beneath the snow. It was still coming down, big puffs of snowflakes falling from a gray sky.
Eleni looked up to see Fin watching a crowd that had gathered around the hearth at the center of the encampment. His face was stony as she stood next to him. His arms were crossed over his chest and she could see a muscle working in his jaw.
“What is happening?” she said.
“Magda,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “Again.”
“Magda what?” said Eleni.
Fin looked down at her. His eyes were a blazing green shooting out from his face. Eleni could feel his anger. It pushed on her like a fist. She caught her breath.
“You would not understand, Eleni,” said Fin, his voice hard. “But you are right not to trust anyone. Magda has called the Carpathian gods. They are coming.”
Eleni looked to see that the center of the crowd was made up of the men of the village. She saw Elek, head and shoulders above the rest, with a wide smile on his face. The men appeared to be celebrating. They had their falxes raised over their heads and were repeating a chant. In a larger circle that seemed to passively circle the tighter circle of men, stood the women. Some huddled together, their shoulders moving in unison. Eleni realized they were crying. Not all of them, though. Some simply stood and watched, their eyes emotionless. A few held small children or babies. The older children were running around the encampment, most of them play-fighting. A few had sticks and were chasing each other with mock-crazed expressions on their faces. Magda moved among the women, giving them a pat here, a word of encouragement there.
Eleni looked up at Fin, who was glaring in Magda's direction. “I do not understand any of this,” she said. “I don't know what this means.”
“It means,” said Fin, without looking at her, “that Magda deems her own desires to be greater than the very lives of gods. She may as well be eating out of Loki's hand.” He turned suddenly and walked into the forest, leaving Eleni standing there.
Magda spotted her and moved toward her.
“Eat now, because it's time you went,” said Magda.
“What have you done?” said Eleni. “Why is Fin so angry?”
“I did what had to be done,” said Magda. “I cannot let the wishes of one god disrupt what must be done.”
“I thought you wanted me to flee,” said Eleni. “I thought fighting Loki was stupid, that I was marching to my death. What's changed?”
“Death is possible,” said Magda. “But Loki is killing gods, and if anyone can stop him it's you. I have to consider the fact that I may not find my sisters in time. The gods may have to save themselves.”
“But why send all of us at once?” said Eleni.
“Because I will not send you unprepared,” said Magda. “I cannot force you not to go, but I can send others to assist you. You are important, Eleni, I can feel it. And if you go, I will call your family to help you. They are your family, don't forget.”
“I don't understand,” said Eleni, irritated. “All I know is hunting and fighting and fire. I do not know about gods or Fates or the way of things. I do not know how the families of gods work. I do not pretend to know. But I do not trust words. Fin trusts words, and he trusted in your words. You promised you would not do this thing.”
“Fin doesn't know the way things must be done,” said Magda. “He does not know the feeling when the world rests on your shoulders. None of you could know what is to come.”
“I recall that you said you did not know what was to come either,” said Eleni.
Magda stared at her for a moment. “Your feelings are clouding your judgment, Eleni. If I do not find Anja, it will be disastrous. We must be Three again.”
“I have no feelings in the matter,” said Eleni. “But I know lies when I see them. I want my mother more than you'll ever know. I want to know why she left, where she went, why she left me in that village. And I do not know why you wish to keep me alive so badly when you hardly know me. But I do know that lies are ugly things. I have been lied to my whole life. Lie after lie after lie. Even my own mother. Maybe your way is best and Fin is wrong. But the way you're doing it is ugly. You are just like the humans in the village. You only want to get your way.”
Eleni turned and headed into the forest where Fin had gone, leaving Magda staring behind her.
The snow had penetrated the canopy and everything was frosted in sparkling white. Eleni looked around for Fin's footprints, but didn't find any. She scanned the trees, trying to feel for his presence, before recalling that he didn't really have one. She did feel something, but it was strange. Eleni frowned. There was something out here, but it didn't feel like a god. It wasn't a dark creature, either. Eleni walked toward the direction of the presence warily.
She felt the cold on the soles of her feet, felt the soft snow give way and turn to water when it touched her skin. Her feet made small hissing noises as she walked, the snow evaporating into little trails of steam in the air. Steam was rising off of her body, too, in the cold air. She balled up her fist and felt the fire encompass her hand as she went. Eleni didn't like surprises, and odd presences in the forest never ended well. She remembered the blue light that had nearly killed her, and her chest ached where it had burrowed into her body.
The presence felt stronger with each step. She was close. The air felt thicker around her and, as she went further into the wood, she started to feel as though she were walking through honey. It took more and more effort to take each step. It had been stupid of her to run off into the forest. After all of Magda and Fin's warnings, she had still been dubious that Loki could hurt her.
But if Loki was out here, if he was the one causing this, Eleni didn't know how she was going to defend herself. She'd had a few flashing, forgotten memories of Loki. A tall, thin man with hair the color of the stars and violet, dancing eyes. Eleni knew that he was dangerous, but in Zaric's memories – for she was sure now this is what her flashes of knowledge were – he had been a nuisance; a god to avoid, if possible, but no real threat to the Carpathians. Magda seemed to think that with the current state of the world, Loki had finally come into power. Eleni didn't pretend to understand any of it, but as she felt the flame extinguish in her hand, she understood the danger.
With effort she raised her hand in front of her face. Her flame had gone out. She tried to bring it forth again, but all she could manage was a thin tongue of smoke that rose above her, then dissipated. Eleni tried to turn, to look behind her, to run away, but she found she could look no way but ahead. She was being propelled forward by some force that she didn't recognize.
After what seemed like an eternity, just when her lungs felt like they
were about to explode, Eleni was pushed through the force and could at last breathe the thin cool air again. She had stumbled through the thickness and come out onto a strange, round field, the grass brown and dead. There was a single burned tree right in the middle, its branches charred and black. Eleni could see the forest around the circle, but it looked strange, as though it were at the bottom of a lake. It shimmered and bent the light all around her. She couldn't feel the fire in her at all. A sharp panic expanded in her belly. There were no sounds here. No birds or the everyday skittering of the forest. No snow either, she realized. She looked around, her eyes narrowed, searching for anything to explain why she was here. Was this to be her new prison? She preferred the metal box.
“I have waited a very long time to meet you, goddess of fire,” said a woman's high nasally voice. Eleni looked for the source of it. She approached the burned tree slowly, her heart beating in her throat. “There is no need to be frightened,” said the voice. “Your powers will be returned to you when you leave this place.” Eleni was sure it was coming from the black, lumpy remains of what must have been a very large tree before it had been burned. Eleni stopped as one of the lumps moved. She squinted through the gloom. She was close enough to see the dullness of the charred bark and to smell the soot. She took a few more steps.
The lump was a creature, but what kind of creature she had no idea. It was black, as black as the tree it rested in, and appeared to be covered in feathers, or something that resembled feathers. It had its head under a great dark wing that was as wide as Eleni was tall.
“What are you?” Eleni said. The panic at having no power had nearly disappeared and been replaced by curiosity. The creature seemed to shift its weight at her words. It flexed its great, clawed talons on the branch it held fast to. Slowly it moved its head, raising its face to look down at Eleni. Eleni's eyes widened when she saw it.
It had hair on its head, like a person. Shaggy, black hair, matted in some places, hanging in tendrils in others. One strand swayed near the creature's jaw, framing a pale face, almost human, with a beak-like nose and black, beady eyes. Full, pink lips parted into what resembled a smile to show brown, jagged teeth, chipped and broken into points. It was female, Eleni could see that, but she had never seen anything like her. The bird woman fanned her enormous wings and Eleni felt hot, dry air against her face. She could make out two enormous breasts beneath the feathers, above a round body.
“You have not heard of me,” it said. “What difference does it make what I am called?”
“No difference,” said Eleni. “I only wish to know what to call you.”
The bird woman's head never stood still. It twitched this way and that, like the small, yellow birds that sat in the lower tree branches and watched Eleni in the springtime. “I am called the Sirin. If you were a mortal I would eat you, though you hardly look more than a mouthful.” The Sirin flicked a blackish-purple tongue over her chipped and broken teeth.
“And since I am not a mortal?”
The Sirin seemed to regard her for a moment. “You interest me, little fire wielder. As you interest many.”
“I do not see the reason for that,” said Eleni, “but I am glad you will not eat me.”
“The fact that you do not see the reason is the precise reason others find interest in you.”
“You speak in riddles,” said Eleni. “Talk sense to me. Why have you brought me to this place?”
“You are the thread that ties the world together. You must make the Fates Three once more.” The Sirin bobbed her ugly head. “The Fates will unravel that which needs unraveling.”
Eleni shook her head. “I already seek Anja.”
“Not enough! Not enough!” shrieked the Sirin, making Eleni jump. “You were hard when he found you. Hard and good and disbelieving. You grow softer every day. You walk like a girl with the god that brings balance. Soft, soft, soft. No good.”
“What would you have me do?” said Eleni, her voice laced with irritation. “All I want is to find my mother. Then I can go off, away from all this.”
“Love will try to unnerve you on your journey,” said the Sirin. “You must wrap your heart in iron. The people will fear you, and their fear will also make them love you. The Sudices will change the order of fate for you. You must not let them. Your own little god will try to win you with love he feels you deserve. You must fight it.”
“What is wrong with love?” said Eleni, suddenly angry. “Why should I not have love?”
“Because the love you don't give will break the world. And even the Fates could perish.”
“Magda?” said Eleni. “My mother Anja?”
“She is not your mother. She is a vessel.”
“I thought they couldn't die.”
“They cannot die, so long as some small part of this world remains intact. But what if it were all to die? Even the Fates have their own threads.”
“How?” said Eleni.
“Water replenishes. Water refreshes. Water drowns.”
“A flood?” said Eleni.
“Not a flood,” said the Sirin. She lowered her head until her nose was a hand's width from Eleni's. “Ragnarok.”
“Ragnarok?” said Eleni. “What is that?”
“You will see, child.” The Sirin sat back up. “Heed my words. Close yourself off. There will be plenty of time for love when they are Three again. But for now, you must be alone. Let them protect you if they wish it, let the mortals love you to give you strength. But you must not weaken. Or all you love will be washed away. To float, to float, to float.” She ducked her head and, raising her wing once more, tucked her head underneath and wrapped herself up.
“Wait,” said Eleni. “How do I find them? How do I stop it?” But she felt herself being pulled backward. The Sirin had become a lump on the tree once more. Eleni tried to wriggle out of the force pulling her away, but it was no use. Her heels dug in the dry earth, making two small trenches in the ground. And then she was being forced through the thickness again. She allowed herself to be pulled out of the circle and as she blinked, the tree and the clearing disappeared, replaced by living trees and snow. Eleni blinked in the brightness and wondered if what she had just seen had been real.
Chapter Fourteen
Fin walked heavily through the forest. He felt like kicking something, but stopped himself. What good would it do? He was the bringer of balance, he who restores the world. If he kicked a tree he would just have to restore it again. The thought made him feel even more frustrated. He stopped and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly, taking in the scent of the evergreens mingled with the fresh, frigid smell of falling snow.
Magda had had no right to call the gods. It should have been Fin and only Fin. He wanted to watch the life fade from the eyes of the evil creatures that had taken his family. They would never return; Loki had seen to that. If it really was Loki.
His chest hurt and felt hollow at the same time whenever he thought of them. His sisters and brother. He pressed his palms to his eyes. The worst part was that, deep inside, he knew Magda was right. He couldn't let his feelings get in the way of actually stopping this madness. It was very likely that Magda had saved Eleni's life by going behind Fin's back. Fin exhaled through his nose and looked toward the heavens. The snow was trickling down through the canopy.
Eleni. He hardly knew what to make of her. It had been a long time since he had held even a mild interest in another god. Not counting his family, most gods tended to be arrogant and self-centered. She was different. She was like an animal and a god and a mortal all at once. There was also something innocent about her that Fin couldn't quite put his finger on. Everything was new to her, and seeing that newness through her eyes had given him a fresh sense of awe for the world. Even through his grief, she made him forget his sadness.
It was hard to believe that she was Zaric. She was so different. It was not unknown for a god to come back as a different gender, and of course they often came back with different personalities, but ab
solutely everything about Eleni was changed from Zaric. Her stature, her hair, her coloring. Physically she looked like Anja, Magda's sister. Fin didn't think Eleni knew just how extraordinary that was. And the link between vessel and god was usually chilly at best. But Eleni seemed to feel an overwhelming sense of love for Anja, and from what she had told him, Anja shared the same feelings. Perhaps the reason for the changes was the result of the love felt between a mother and daughter, which was highly unusual for a vessel and goddess.
Fin shook his head. He didn't know if what he was thinking was truly possible, or if his grief was making him soft. It was a ridiculous thought. Love didn't create things, it took them away. Love meant giving away part of yourself. And when that person was gone, the part that you gave them was also gone. Forever. Fin spat bitterly on the ground. A small leaf pushed its way through his spittle. It became a vine and crawled its way up a nearby sapling. Fin looked at it for a long time.
There was no satisfaction in revenge, he knew that. He didn't want to think about it, but he knew. He shook his head. It was no good storming off when there was an enemy to focus on. He wouldn't be able to fight Loki on his own any more than Eleni could. He advised her not to be stupid and rush off on her own. He needed to take his own advice.
Fin stood up. He would go back and apologize if he had to. Even if it made him sick to his stomach to do it. He took a step back the way he had come, but stopped and turned slowly. There was something nearby. He could feel it. He turned around and scanned through the trees. He took a step in the direction that the presence was strongest.
“Fin,” said a voice into his ear.
Fin jumped and felt his feet leave the ground. Eleni stood in front of him, that almost-smile on her face. He found himself sitting on the ground and narrowed his eyes at her.
“You cannot always be the one that sneaks up on people,” said Eleni, her voice almost innocent.
Fin stood up and brushed himself off. “What are you doing out here?” he said.