The Fires of Muspelheim

by Travis Simmons

  “No, you are Abagail,” Surt told her. “Souls go through many incarnations. You are born one person, you die that person, and then you are born as another person. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t an individual in each lifetime.”

  “But I’m the All Father,” she said.

  “All that means is that you’re marked, and you have power others wouldn’t,” the Norn told her.

  “The eyes,” Abagail said, looking at her hand again.

  “Some people have had it before. It’s very rare, but not unheard of,” Surt said.

  Abagail nodded. “Elyse told me.”

  “But you have to learn control,” Surt insisted.

  “I had control, until Leona was infected.” Just the thought of her sister’s darkened palm made pain flare down her arm and to the opened eye. She took a deep breath and pushed the anger away. It held tight, but in the end she was successful.

  “And you will have that control again,” Surt told her.

  “Your love is the problem,” Bellvin told her. “You feel the need to protect those you love, and as long as you feel those people need your protection, they will be a target. You’re putting them in danger by how much you protect them.”

  “But they do need my protection,” Abagail argued.

  “Do they? Rorick hasn’t been around you much lately, has he? And who was it that saved you time and time again? Leona. Do you think she really needs your saving?” Bellvin looked at Abagail as if she were being absurd.

  Maybe she was. Leona had saved her many more times than Abagail had saved her sister. In fact, more often than not she’d put everyone in danger. She was trying so hard to keep them safe, but in the end the reason they were in danger was because of her.

  She got infected and they all left O to help her. All the while they traveled to the harbingers of light they’d been attacked by darklings that were attracted to her power. Not only did they have to contend with the darklings, but they also had to fight against the darkling wyrd that came out of Abagail, threatening their lives more than once.

  Abagail looked down at her gloved hand nestled in her lap.

  “Precisely. We know why you’re here, All Father.” Bellvin drifted closer.

  Abagail didn’t protest this time when they named her.

  “You’re here for the God Slayer. You need it to right the wrong you’ve created. The Void has been fractured by your own doing. Events are spiraling out of control and Ragnarok is coming to fruition because of your actions. The only way now is to kill the darkling gods.” Bellvin sighed. “But you can’t have the spear.”

  Abagail looked into the mermaid’s violet eyes.

  “At least not yet. There’s no telling if this incarnation of the All Father can be trusted with the spear. You’re linked with Anthros. At any time the wolf could take over. All it would require is for you to lose control of your wyrd just a few more times. Once the wyrd takes control, the All Father has lost inside of you, and Anthros has won.”

  Abagail remembered hearing Anthros inside of her. She remembered seeing the giant wolf in the Fey Forest, towering and white, shot through with silver. She remembered how her eyes had glowed aqua when she faced Fortarian and burst into flames. She was linked with Anthros. In all honesty, she felt a closer connection to the wolf than she did the All Father.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and then hammered in her chest. Blood rushed through her body, causing a river of noise in her ears. Abagail shook her head. She couldn’t let that happen. No matter how perfect the connection with the darkling god felt, she couldn’t let herself become a vessel for his power. She wouldn’t become like Fortarian.

  “What do I have to do?” She asked, swallowing the pulse of fear in her chest.

  “Accept.”

  “Accept what?” Abagail asked.

  “Why do you want the spear?”

  “To fight in Ragnarok,” Abagail said. “That’s what you just said.”

  “No, not why does the All Father need the spear. Why do you, Abagail, want the spear.”

  Abagail opened her mouth to speak, but fell silent. The true reason she wanted the spear was the same reason the darkling wyrd was taking over in her. To protect those she loved from the darkling gods. To keep them safe from the darkling tide.

  Bellvin smiled. “Precisely. In order to gain the spear, you must accept that you’re not in control of their fates. You have to accept that they are in charge of their own lives, and while you can help them, you can’t save them. You must accept that the true reason you need the spear is to bring an end to all of this darkness plaguing the nine worlds.”

  Abagail took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart.

  “The spear is different than the hammer,” Bellvin told her. Surt looked at the mermaid, a warning glance that she waved away. “While the hammer can only be lifted by Hafaress, or one it finds worthy, the spear can be wielded by anyone. That’s why Hilda is at our doorstep and that’s why we can’t let you have the spear until you’re ready. If you take the spear and give in to the darkling wyrd, then we are all lost. The darkness has won before Ragnarok has even happened.”

  “But you can get help here, in Muspelheim” Surt told her. “Elyse and her brother Dylan lead our harbingers in training. They can help you. They are good with aiding those who have strong emotions.”

  Abagail lowered her head and opened her eyes. “How can I turn my back on those I love?”

  “You’re not,” Bellvin said, placing a webbed hand on Abagail’s knee. “By purging yourself of those emotions, you’re helping them. If the darkling wyrd within you doesn’t sense they are a trigger for your fear, then they will stop being a target. If you can beat your own emotions then you will finally be able to help them, instead of burdening them with danger and worry for you.”

  Finally able to help Leona, Abagail thought. Maybe I will get to save her one of these times.

  Abagail sighed. “When do I start?”

  “Do you want me to go inside with you?” Skye asked.

  Leona raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m capable of climbing the stairs and sitting down. I think the ravens can help me once I’m inside,” she said.

  He nodded and sat down on the bottom step. His eyes searched the sparring field. It was early enough that there wasn’t a lot of activity around the training yurts. Most classes hadn’t started yet, but Leona knew that the ravens would be inside.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Leona asked.

  Skye looked at her, surprise written on his face. “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean, I know you’re here to help me and stuff, but you’ve been a bit more attentive this morning. I’m getting better, you know?” She crossed her arms over her chest, the effort made difficult by the thick woolen jacket she wore.

  “Well, I’m just anxious to see what you learn about Abagail,” he told her, gazing off at the sparring field again. “That is why you’re seeing them today, isn’t it?” He cut a glance back to her.

  Leona nodded. “With any luck I can get to the bottom of it.”

  “Well, alright then, stop wasting time.” Skye smiled at her and shooed her up the stairs.

  Leona shook her head, and a smile played across her face. She bounded up the stairs just to show Skye that she was getting better and he didn’t need to be such a mother hen. She regretted the burst of activity because when she reached the top of the three stairs her legs ached and she felt a little dizzy. Leona stiffened her stance so as not to show the weakness, and opened the door.

  When she shut the door behind her she was enclosed in the dark yurt. The round walls were lined with candles and oil lamps, only some of which were lit. It was still dark in the chamber. Darker than usual. It took a moment for Leona’s eyes to adjust to the lighting.

  Huginn and Muninn sat at the round table in the center of the room. Incense curled to the rafters above, perfuming the air with patchouli. At the back of
the yurt a fire popped merrily in a small fireplace.

  Leona shucked her jacket, hung it on a peg by the door, and crossed the wooden floor to the table. She didn’t want to bother the sisters. While it was morning and they were both having a cup of tea to wake up, they were also both lost in the depths of a crystal ball before them. Their hands were clasped, and their eyes vacant, as if they weren’t actually inside their bodies at all.

  There was a third cup of tea sitting before the chair closest to Leona. She took her spot and sipped at the black tea. She preferred coffee, but when she was with the sisters, she drank what they offered her.

  There was a hint of lemongrass to the tea. She rolled the flavor around in her mouth, her eyes settling on a small, blue crystal ball in the spot before her, just behind her cup of tea. They were ready for her to scry.

  Leona wasn’t ready to scry. She wanted to know what the sisters were seeing. The future could wait. She had finished half of her tea before Huginn and Muninn both took a deep breath, fluttered their eyes, and came back from their journey into the crystal.

  Muninn turned to Leona, a smile on her face. Huginn appraised their apprentice without a trace of emotion.

  “What did you see?” Leona asked.

  “Rowan wants us to scout out as much as we can of the darklings in Haven,” Muninn told her.

  “It’s getting harder,” Huginn said.

  “That many?” Leona asked, crossing her arms on the table top. She looked down at her gloved hand. It didn’t normally register with her that she had the plague until she saw the glove on her hand. She dragged her eyes away from her affliction.

  “A dark shadow is hanging over both New Landanten and Haven,” Muninn told her. “We can’t determine specific people that are causing the darkness, so it’s hard. The names she’s given us are also hard to get a grip on.”

  “Which is strange,” Huginn said. “It’s as if they’re masking themselves from being scried.”

  “Which is possible,” Muninn said, folding her hands together on the table top. “But not something most people would consider doing.”

  “Unless they had something to hide,” Leona said, gazing at the raven-haired twins. Besides the jewelry Muninn wore, it was nearly impossible to tell the two of them apart. They were both pale and they both dressed in black and had the same long, black hair. They had once been the ravens of the All Father, only taking human form when in the realm of man. Now that he had left the Ever After, there was no point in their staying in Eget Row. They had come to Agaranth looking for him, and they had found him in Abagail.

  “That’s my point exactly,” Huginn said.

  “Are you sure you should be trusting . . . everyone?” Leona asked.

  “What do you mean, everyone?” Huginn asked. “Of course we can’t trust everyone. There’s very few people we can trust.”

  “What’s on your mind?” Muninn asked Leona, sipping at her cold tea. “Something’s bothering you.”

  “It’s just . . .” Leona fell silent, her eyes drifting to her glove. She sighed.

  “Are you worried about the plague?” Huginn asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’re the most levelheaded person I know, and you have no active wyrd for the darklings to feed on. You will be fine.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Leona said, staring at her glove and remembering the precise moment she was infected. “Fortarian told me something when he infected me. He said there was a reason Father took Abagail and myself away from mother. He indicated that Rowan wasn’t being truthful, and that she was hiding something. He also made me feel that there was another reason why he was a darkling than what we’ve been told.”

  “Everyone has a past,” Huginn said. “Not all of them are good pasts.”

  “And darklings will twist the mind to their desires. He ended up infecting you, right?” Muninn asked her.

  “But it’s more than that,” Leona argued, shaking her head. “I felt like he was right.”

  “And what have you seen of the future? Do you see that he was right?” Huginn asked.

  “I was hoping the two of you could shed some light on that,” Leona said. “I can’t fully control my powers yet, and at any rate, it would be hard to get answers about the past from the future.”

  “Not true,” Muninn said. “The best thing for you to do is to sleep on it. Use your power to dream. As I understand you and Abagail both have a strong ability to dream the truth?”

  “But how would I do that?” Leona asked.

  Huginn pushed away from the table and crossed the room to the wall behind Muninn where jars of herbs lined the walls. She selected one jar, pulled the lid off, and retrieved a muslin pouch from inside. The glass lid rattled back in place on the jar, and she sat the pouch before Leona.

  “Make a tea of that herb tonight. When you sleep all of your dreams will be prophetic.”

  “What if I don’t want an entire night of prophecy?” Leona asked.

  Huginn shrugged. “If you want answers, that’s the best way. If you don’t, then don’t drink it.”

  “But you should be warned, you will be very tired when the morning comes. Scrying all night will take a toll on the body. You won’t get any real rest,” Muninn said.

  Leona nodded and slipped the pouch into her pocket. Her stomach jumped just thinking about getting answers. Her muscles were tense with the prospect of what she’d find.

  “Now, today we are going to look for Abagail,” Huginn said.

  Leona let out a long breath and rolled her shoulders in an attempt to relax. The sisters joined hands, and then took Leona’s hands, forming a triangle of sorts around the table. They’d done this before, it allowed all of them to see within their ball what the journeyer was seeing.

  Leona focused on the trail of incense, allowing herself to relax further and further into the vision. When she felt she was ready, she turned her gaze to the blue crystal ball. The more she practiced the better she got at calling forth the vision.

  Leona was no longer aware of her body. She was in a dark room, everywhere she looked blackness pressed in on her. She was darkness and she existed in that darkness.

  She felt that something was happening, something that she should be aware of, but she couldn’t see anything. All she could do was hear.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” a male voice said beside her.

  Leona could feel a recognition in her. She knew this man, whomever he was. She’d just met him, but she couldn’t recall features or how she knew him, or where she’d met him. She wanted to focus on the sensation more, but she’d learned early on in her vision quests that she couldn’t delve that far. She was just there for the ride.

  “I didn’t realize fairies lived here,” she said. Leona recognized the voice that came from within her. She was experiencing this as Abagail, and so were the ravens.

  “And you didn’t realize we had food, either,” a woman said. Leona felt someone jab her in the ribs, and she jumped where she sat at the table, but she forced the sensation away, lest it pull her from her vision.

  She laughed. “Well, how can food grow in such a place?” She wondered.

  “Well, I hope you know now,” the man replied.

  “And remind me next time that I don’t like fire drake,” she said.

  “Yes!” Muninn said, pulling Leona from the vision.

  “What, do we have something?” Leona asked her.

  “We do!” the raven said. “There are only two places in all the nine worlds that have fire drakes.”

  “What are they?” Leona asked, her attention rooted to the bejeweled raven.

  “Saracin, and Muspelheim,” Huginn answered.

  “And since no one is allowed to enter Saracin—” Muninn said.

  “And Abagail burst into flames,” Huginn interjected.

  “And Abagail turned into a bonfire, I would put my bet on Muspelheim.” Muninn smiled at Leona.

  Leona didn’t feel any of her pleasure though. She’d dreamed of Muspelheim b
efore, when she took the form of Hafaress. That was where Surt lived, and Surt was the one who had made the God Slayers.

  He was also the one who killed Hafaress’ human lover in order to do so.

  “We have to help her,” Leona said.

  “I understand you want your sister back,” Huginn said, “but it seems to me that she’s not in any real danger.”

  “Muspelheim has ways of training harbingers that other places don’t,” Muninn said, placing a calming hand on Leona’s arm. “She will be fine.”

  “But demons live there,” Leona said.

  “There’re no demons in Muspelheim,” Huginn told her. “Just the fire-etin, and they aren’t demons.”

  “Surt is,” Leona insisted. “I saw him kill Hafaress’ human lover.”

  Huginn frowned.

  “That’s true, he did,” Muninn said. “But there was a reason.”

  “There’s no reason for that,” Leona said.

  “There is if you’re a harbinger influenced by darkling wyrd,” Huginn told her.

  Leona couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. “A harbinger?”

  Muninn nodded, but she was staring at her sister as if she was willing her to shut up and not tell more than necessary.

  Huginn ignored her.

  “Yes, at the time he made the hammer he was infected with the shadow plague. You’ve seen him in dreams, you can see the scars the infection left on his body. He’s overcome the darkling wyrd now, and he uses the power to create.” Huginn was studying Leona.

  “I can’t believe this,” she said.

  “Come now, even the gods have been tempted by darklings, you don’t think it’s possible for giants as well?” Muninn asked.

  “But Hafaress hates Surt,” Leona said.

  “Yes, he does. No matter the reason Surt killed his lover, Surt still killed his lover,” Huginn said.

  “Some things you just can’t get passed,” Muninn told her.

  “But don’t think nothing good came out of it,” Huginn said. “It gave us all something that could save us from Ragnarok.”

  “What’s that?” Leona asked, not seeing how anything good could have come out of Hafaress losing his fiancé.