“Oh? Why is that?” I asked.
“Old arguments,” another voice broke in.
I looked up to find a woman of indeterminate nature waiting for us where the path passed through a gap in a hedge. She was definitely some sort of nature spirit, but she seemed far too mature to be a dryad, or even a hamadryad. She was tall and astonishingly muscular for a woman, with a hard face and no curves to speak of. Her only concession to femininity was a long mane of coal-black hair, bound in a braid that nearly reached her knees. She wore a tunic and short dress made from soft leather, with bare feet, and held a long spear tipped with a stone point in one hand.
But the feature that immediately jumped out at me was the fact that her skin had the coppery hue of an American Indian.
Alanna stopped, and drew a calming breath. “Sister,” she said evenly.
“I see you’ve changed your face again,” the stranger said. “Still doing tricks for the humans?”
“I find joy in embracing my nature, instead of denying it as you insist on doing,” Alanna replied. “As you well know. But I did not come here to revisit old arguments, Melania.”
“No, you’re here to lure young Idun into some new foolishness. What is it this time? Shall she spread her legs for some arrogant god to beg his protection? Perhaps sacrifice the golden apples to the depredations of commerce, or enthrall her dryads to a band of wizards? You know how she gets when she thinks she’s out of options, Alanna. I won’t let you take advantage of her.”
Alanna shook her head wearily. “So you still can’t bring yourself to trust her? How sad. I had hoped love would win out in the end.”
Melania flushed. “It’s not about trust!”
Alanna started to reply, but stilled when I put a hand on her arm.
“We’re not here to rehash arguments that were probably ancient when the pyramids were built,” I said. “Melania, I’m sure you know that Idun has been putting out feelers to various parties. I have a message for her from one of them.”
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to interrupt your elders, child?” Melania huffed.
“Hasn’t experience taught you to look beneath the surface, Melania?” I replied.
She stared at me for a long moment. Finally she huffed, and turned away. “You schemers and your tricks. Fine, you can deliver your message. But don’t expect me to stand back and do nothing if Alanna starts weaving one of her webs of honeyed words. Idun is far too trusting, but I know better.”
“Peace, sister. I am only here as a guide for my companion. I shall not snub the lady gardener by ignoring her, but neither shall I make any effort at persuasion.”
“You’d better not, because I’ll be watching.”
She stalked off down the path, and we followed.
Since when are you a sneaky trickster type? I silently asked my familiar.
If I were, I would have long since set her ire to rest, Alanna replied. But she has always preferred to solve her problems by stabbing them, and life has not been kind to her. Now she sees a plot behind every kind word, and the only people she trusts are those she has known from childhood.
So to her, Idun is a cute little kid that she’s looking out for?
Alanna’s lips quirked. Something like that. The last time we fought I accused her of raising a lover for herself.
Now I was fighting not to smirk. Or maybe giggle. This body was definitely prone to giggles.
It was a short walk to the edge of the grove I’d seen before, which was surrounded by a tall hedge of thorn bushes. As we passed through a gap in the hedge I saw that the trees were all of the same species, and filled with so much magic that I would have known something was odd about them even without the other clues. But the scattering of golden apples hanging from their branches made their real nature obvious.
Idun was waiting for us just inside the gate. She looked just like she had the last time I saw her, at the ritual where my girls and I formed our coven bonds. But having met other Aesir since, I saw her in a new light. What I’d taken for an average height was very short for an Aesir, and while she was blonde and buxom she lacked the supernatural beauty I was coming to expect of goddesses. There was no aura of commanding power around her, and the long-handled hoe that she held seemed an absurd affectation compared to the deadly artifacts her kin favored.
But she was no clueless hippy or delusional pacifist. Her smile might be gentle, but her eyes were sharp.
Nor was she alone. Half a dozen elder dryads stood at her back, all of them alert and armed to the teeth. To the naked eye they looked much like Corinna’s band, only with lighter skin and golden-blonde hair. But each of them had the level of power I’d come to expect from demigods like Brand, and everything they wore or carried was enchanted.
“I don’t often receive unfamiliar visitors,” Idun said. “But Alanna’s presence is endorsement enough for me. Be welcome in my grove, stranger.”
“Thank you,” I said. “But we’ve actually met once before. I just wasn’t wearing this face at the time.”
“That’s a rare trick. What word do you bring me, skinshifter? Has Coyote found his balls, perhaps?”
“I wouldn’t know. Not long ago Hestia introduced you to a young coven with some very unusual members. You had some requests for us, and I’m here to take the first step towards fulfilling them. I assume you’d want your own people to take a look at any potential refuge before you rely on it?”
She blinked rapidly, and her grip tightened on her hoe.
“You mean… but… I’m not ready yet!” She protested.
“I didn’t think you would be,” I told her. “Neither are we, but we’re getting there fast. We have a place where dryads can live, that’s protected against both monsters and the Fimbulwinter. We aren’t quite ready to fight off an angry god or Great Beast yet, but we’re getting close.”
Idun glanced uneasily at the sky. “That sounds promising, but what about transportation? My girls aren’t especially mobile.”
“Alanna?” I said.
“My powers have greatly increased of late,” Alanna said. “If they can pick up their trees I can shelter a whole grove of the little ones in my heart, for more than long enough to make the journey. Or I could carry a few of the elder circle.”
“Alanna, you know the weight of destiny our trees bear,” one of the dryads interrupted. “None of us can manage that for more than a few minutes.”
“I can lend you the power,” Alanna said serenely.
The dryad’s eyes went wide. “You have grown mighty indeed, honored elder.”
“Of course,” Alanna replied, as a smug grin stole across her face. “I can’t let my cute little juniors down. Don’t you remember how I promised to protect you, when you were all just saplings?”
“What about-” Idun began.
“I’m not leaving you,” Melania interrupted. “We live or die together, and that’s final.”
Idun looked ready to argue, but something interrupted. Her head suddenly whipped around to stare off into the distance.
“I wish we had more time to discuss this, but events have just overtaken us. Jari, son of Heimdall, is at the gate preparing to inspect the grove for sabotage, and he has Thor’s son Magni with him,” she said. “Runa, Bodil, you’re up. Go with Alanna, and have a look at this hidden fortress of hers. If you can grow and bear fruit there, your survival could change the fate of the world.”
Two of the dryads nodded, and ran for their trees.
“What about you?” Melania protested.
“Do you think the gods will let me go?” Idun scoffed. “No trick will avail us if they set Heimdall on our trail, and if I fly the coop they will never give up looking.”
Two of the towering apple trees vanished. Runa fell to her knees for a moment, before struggling back to her feet and staggering back towards us. Bodil managed to move faster, but I could see the strain on her face.
“She’s right,” I said. “I can’t fight a god, and with motiva
tion like that one of them would track us down eventually.”
Alanna embraced Bodil, and the dryad vanished into her bower. She ran a few steps to where Runa was staggering towards her, and repeated the process.
“But you think they’ll just let the apples of immortality go?” Melania retorted.
“A missing tree or two is merely a backup plan to Odin,” Idun said. “If he wins this war he can always track them down, and kill anyone who has sampled their fruit. And if my fears are well founded, and all of us die in this wretched city, then what does he care about the future?”
Alanna returned, and draped herself against my side.
“The watching god can move quickly when he has need,” she said. “We have no more time to talk. Farewell, everyone. Fight well, and never give up hope!”
Her figure blurred, flowing into the form of a wooden bracer on my arm.
“She’s right,” I said. “There are more forces working in your favor than you know, Idun. When all seems lost, look for rescue where you least expect it.”
I took flight, rising quickly to skim the treetops as I headed away from the gate. Fortunately the giant tree that stood behind Idun’s estate gave me an obvious landmark to orient on. I zoomed away towards the towering branches, wishing I’d taken the time to build a more powerful flight spell.
But it was good enough. In moments I was among the branches of Yggdrasil, the mystical tree that connected all of the nine worlds. The garden behind me faded from view, as Alanna’s confident directions guided me away from the Golden City.
Chapter 27
The sun beat down on the desiccated badlands of Alanna’s hidden refuge, raising heat waves that made distant mesas seem to dance. Her tree was the only visible sign of life, and not much of one. Ancient wounds scarred the gnarled trunk, the marks of countless blades almost lost beneath the scars of fires and lightning strikes. What remained seemed more dead than alive, petrified into some odd amalgam of wood and stone. But here and there a clump of fresh twigs sprang from an ancient branch, spreading fresh new leaves to catch the sun.
I didn’t miss the symbolism. This tree was planted in some remote corner of the dreamlands, and I had no doubt its form was shaped as much by her feelings as anything concrete. I couldn’t imagine what she must have survived, in the course of a life that spanned all of human history and more besides. It wasn’t surprising that tragedy had left its mark on her. But I resolved that one day, I was going to see this tree with more greenery than scars.
It might take a thousand years. But so what? I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Will this do?” Alanna asked, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Is it really as big as it looks?” I asked.
It was still strange to hear a woman’s voice when I spoke. But I was resolved to take my time for once, and do things right. I could deal with being an elf girl for a week if it meant finally leaving the fragility of normal human bodies behind.
“The boundaries of a dream are always uncertain,” Alanna said. “If you go more than a few miles from my tree the landscape will start to change when you aren’t looking at it. If you keep going you’ll eventually find yourself in another dream.”
“A few miles is plenty of room,” I assured her. “I can test high-speed flight when we get back to Kozalin. Right now I just need enough space to rough out some ideas, and maybe test fire a weapon or two. It won’t do you any harm if I use something like the plasma cannon on one of those mesas in the distance, will it?”
“Of course not. They aren’t a part of me, and I draw no great strength from this place. It is simply a retreat, where I can be alone when I find myself in a melancholy mood. I dare say a few craters would be an improvement. Just be careful that you don’t catch my tree in one of your explosions.”
I turned to Alanna, and took her hands in mine. “I’d sooner kill myself than hurt you, Alanna. Seriously, you’ve been a life saver through this whole ordeal. I can’t count the number of times you’ve gone above and beyond anything I would have expected. Is there anything I can do for you, to say thank you?”
She smiled gently, and pulled me into an embrace. She was taller than my temporary form, and my head nestled comfortably against her breasts.
“Simply treat me with kindness, Daniel. You’ve already won me, and I have no need to be conquered. Although I’m looking forward to you regaining your manhood.”
I found myself blushing. “Hey, you were the one who insisting on showing me what being a lesbian is like.”
“It would be a tragedy to pass up such an opportunity. But I miss the strong embrace of my wizard. I would spend a thousand years in your arms if I could.”
I hugged her. “You really don’t like being alone, do you?”
“I’m afraid I can be quite clingy for the first decade of a new relationship, Daniel. I would love to be your armor all the time, holding you close and protecting you with my body at the same time. I… might also have some strange fantasies that involve replacing all your furniture with my own branches, so I can always be near you.”
I laughed. “That’s creepy, but kind of endearing. You should talk to Avilla about it when we get back. I don’t mind indulging your fantasies a bit, as long as it doesn’t leave my coven-mates feeling like they’re being spied on or pushed aside. I’m sure she can come up with something that strikes a reasonable balance.”
“You’re spoiling me, Daniel. Now I’m even more eager for you to resume your true form.”
“Me too. Let’s see how things are coming along, shall we?”
Ever since Hecate summoned me to this world I’d been in a frantic race for time, and there were a lot of things that had been pushed aside just because I never had time to address them. One of those was the personal enhancement effects that my flesh magic was capable of. In theory I could have used them months ago, but laying enchantments on living flesh is a lot slower than making magic items. I had to let the magic soak in gradually, building up layer by layer until it finally grew into something worthwhile.
Before now I’d always assumed that building another enchantment factory or learning a new trick would always be a better use of my time. But not anymore. Seeing the powers of Asgard, fighting the Lightbringers and witnessing Fenrir’s unchaining, had finally convinced me that this was a world where soldiers can only do so much. If I wanted to survive getting involved in the affairs of the gods I was going to have to step up my game.
Giving my new body the raw durability of a demigod was a good place to start. It would be a lot easier for my armor to protect me from damage if I wasn’t so squishy to begin with. The enchantments I’d put on some of my elf body’s bones seemed to be working normally, so that was another hidden ace I could exploit. The next person who thought they’d caught me unarmed and unprepared was in for a world of hurt.
Alanna pulled me into her tree, and through it to a very different dream. In this one she stood in the middle of a wide field of lush grass, bordered by a stream and pond on one side and a stretch of open woodland on the other. The sky was a deep blue, without a trace of clouds, and the sun was pleasantly warm. Two trees filled with golden apples stood next to each other in the clearing, and their dryads lounged in the shade beneath them.
“Alanna!” Bodil called. “This refuge of yours is marvelous. But Runa says it’s just a dream. That can’t be right, can it?”
“There is nothing just about dreams, Bodil,” Alanna replied. “But Runa is correct. This is a dream of fertile serenity that I shaped for myself long ago, and hid in the most trackless depths of the dreamlands. The green dreams of field and forest surround us, and no animal can find a path through them.”
“Not even the damned squirrel?” Runa asked.
“Ratatosk was merely curious,” Alanna assured her. “Few travelers dare to brave the branches of the world tree in this era, and carrying taunts between the worm and the eagle is scant amusement. But he can’t leave the world tree, and even the furthes
t stretch of Yggdrasil’s branches barely touches on the realm of dreams. We will have no visitors from the waking world here, unless we summon them ourselves.”
Bodil shook her head in wonder. “I had no idea your mastery of the dreaming was so strong, Alanna. This place feels as solid as any land in Midgard. Not at all like my little attempts at dream shaping.”
“I expect that had more to do with Asgard’s wards than your own skill, Bodil. You’re welcome to practice here if you like, but be mindful of the neighbors. Not all of the forest dreams are friendly, and you may draw their attention if you stretch yourself. There’s a nightmare of strangling vines that likes to frighten visitors, and a dry summer day that seems pleasant until you discover it never ends.”
“We’ll be careful,” Runa assured her. “But how long will we be staying here? This can’t be the refuge you spoke of, can it? If we bear fruit in this place we’ll quickly fade into dreams ourselves, and then our apples will give only delusions of immortality.”
Alanna turned to me. “I’ll let you answer that one. I’m confident no one can eavesdrop on us here, but bear in mind that Runa and Bodil will eventually share any secrets they learn with Idun and their grove.”
“Eventually isn’t the problem,” I said. “Ladies, we’ve had to get pretty tricky to arrange your escape on the eve of Ragnarok, and I expect we’d have problems from both sides if anyone knew where to find you. So I’m afraid there are a lot of questions I can’t answer just yet. The plan is to hide out here for a couple of weeks to let the heat die down, and let the war on the Golden Fields get started. Once I’m confident that the gods are safely distracted we’ll sneak back to Midgard with you, and get you set up in your new home.”
“Where is that?” Runa asked.
“More importantly, who leads there?” Bodil said. “I want to know who our benefactor is, and what price we have to pay for our protection.”
“We’re taking you to Kozalin, where a wizard named Daniel the Black has set up a fortress meant to withstand the Fimbulwinter,” I said. “We already have three groves there, including the Bloody Thorns, and they’re weaving a miniature faerie realm anchored to their land. Alanna has been living there for a couple of months, so she can tell you what it’s like.”
Thrall (Daniel Black Book 4) Page 39