Lightning Scarred

by Carolyn Ivy Stein

  Her heart pounded within her broad chest. If she couldn't find ice or land she would die at sea. Her cubs would die since they didn't know the way to their destinations. She had to find her way back to Thule.

  She needed information. She dived again. She could stay down for the span of 60 breaths, no more. Then she would have to surface. This time while she was under the water, she heard a strange sound. It was strange, rhythmic, almost a roar. She paddled toward it. A bulky object, like one of the human boats, floated below the surface of the water and slid past.

  She surfaced again for air.

  She didn't know how many more dives she had in her. Her muscles were weak. She ached and her stomach wailed. She hadn't had enough to eat before setting out on the trek. She wanted to find an ice floe to rest on. She needed to find a seal or something else to eat. And where were Björn and Drifa?

  The human ship was like none she'd seen before. First, it was completely enclosed, as if someone had copied the shape of a seal and made a sculpture from metal; little windows adorned the side. She pushed her tiring muscles to explore. Even if there was nothing interesting about it, perhaps she could climb on top and rest. An opening appeared in the ship and a human clad in a black, form-fitting outfit slid into the sea like a seal.

  Like food. She could smell the fat inside the black casing, and it drove her near mad with hunger.

  Yrsa looked longingly at the snack swimming toward her in the water. It would be so good to eat it. Modir said that humans were sentient and must be protected. But Modir wasn't swimming in strangely warm waters, aching and hungry.

  Yrsa recited Modir's philosophical treatises to herself as the human approached, the strong blood singing to her empty stomach. She completed her recitation just as the human pulled alongside her.

  She hadn't realized how hungry she was until potential prey presented itself in front of her. No, not prey. A sentient species as worthy of life as she was. He could be someone’s cub.

  Yrsa knew that in another moment she would lose control. That must not happen. She was not a beast. She was the apex of life on this planet. Kaneedma alone had true philosophy.

  She dove and dove and dove, taking a perverse pleasure in the strain it caused her muscles and the slight pain in her chest. The fresh water above changed to the strong salty brine she was accustomed to.

  Too far.

  The scenery shifted as she descended. Shimmering schools of fish, a species she'd never seen before, offered a potential appetizer. Would they be worth attacking? They looked so small, barely enough, but Yrsa was so hungry. Further down, a shimmering hole in the water with coruscating rainbow light broke the blue water.

  Her chest ached.

  She needed to surface, but she suddenly wanted to see the hole in the sea. She'd never heard of such a thing. And above her the humans were still tempting snacks. No one should have to withstand that kind of temptation.

  As she drew up to the hole, she could see that it was a thin sheet of fragile ice with colors moving through it. She pressed a furry paw to the cold surface and felt the peculiar rough smooth nature of ice. But how was it down here? Where no other ice prevailed?

  She pressed a bit harder and the ice broke against her paw, shoving ice fragments painfully into her skin, like sharp baby Kaneedma teeth as they nursed. With one arm inside the hole, she could feel the temperature difference of the water. There had to be ice on the other side, it was so much colder than the water she was floating in. Perhaps Björn was there. She needed to find him… and find something to eat.

  She couldn't smell underwater, but where there was ice, there were seals.

  She pushed through and found herself in familiar territory. The schools of herring scattered at the site of her. A narwhal turned in her direction. She paddled upward to, desperate to draw a breath, but she was not quick enough. Her aching lungs couldn't bear another moment and she inhaled frigid water.

  She sputtered.

  Her only hope lay at the surface, so Yrsa continued to rise even though a ringing in her ears and dizziness threatened to overtake her. She needed air, but above her a solid expanse of ice stretched as far as she could see.

  There was no hole at all. She wouldn't make it. Her chest would explode.

  Suddenly, a majestic woman with seal brown skin and white hair, larger than Yrsa herself, swam up beside her. The alluring odor of walrus, seal, and gull meat wafted to Yrsa's nose. But how? She'd never smelled anything submerged before, but this scent was so strong, and so enticing.

  The woman's dress rippled around her, white as Yrsa's fur, but with shot through with lightning flashes of color as if the dress contained a chaotic rainbow.

  The world shook above her.

  Again.

  The ice cracked directly above Yrsa's head. She swam toward it.

  The woman’s form shifted and she became a large, white-furred Kaneedma, so intensely beautiful it hurt to look at her. Jarree. The goddess Jarree.

  Yrsa couldn't look away from the Kaneedma goddess of spring, whose touch brought summer storms, whose kiss ended hibernation. At the same time, it hurt to look at her. Jarree seemed to radiate spring sunlight.

  Jarree pressed her paw to the crack in the ice and it widened enough for Yrsa to push herself out of the water and fill her lungs with air. She almost cried, it felt so good.

  "Mama! We found you! Mama!" It was Bjorn's excited voice. Drifa reached a paw down to help Yrsa. After a beat, Björn did as well. With the help of her cubs, Yrsa made it to the surface.

  Björn was safe! That thought filled her. She’d found him.

  She lay like a seal unable to move while her cubs nosed around her.

  A globe of white overwhelmed her senses. The only disturbance in the white was the large furred compassionate face of Jarree. It was as if she and Jarree were the only creatures in existence in a moment that stretched backward and forward through eternity.

  Jarree touched Yrsa's eyes. The touch burned with more pain than Yrsa had ever endured. Even near drowning hadn't been this bad. She moaned.

  The goddess’ voice boomed in Yrsa’s head like the mighty crack of sea ice before a glacier calved. "You have seen the future, child. In that time, no Kaneedma survives. No Arctic seals. Not even the algae."

  "Why?" Yrsa asked.

  But the goddess continued as if she hadn't heard Yrsa’s question. "You exhibited great wisdom and compassion. You are worthy to be one of my own. When the time comes, you shall rescue my people through your compassion and wit. You are my champion. Find the others."

  The cloud that surrounded the goddess dissipated. Relief, desire, and hunger to know more warred within Yrsa and she sobbed.

  "Mama?" A worried sounding Drifa curled alongside Yrsa offering her warmth to her mother, followed quickly by Bjorn. They warmed her until she was able to rise.

  On their way across the frozen landscape, navigating across cracks that formed suddenly, opening passages to the ocean, they found a fat seal. It was so slow and easy to catch that Yrsa was certain it was a gift from the goddess. She prayed her thanks to Jarree, and instructed the cubs to do so as well.

  It was only the first miracle during the long trek with the cubs. The most important was Yrsa’s newfound ability to anticipate Hildingr’s concerns and swiftly counter them when she left Björn with him. Jarree spoke through her that day, opening her eyes with compassion and wisdom.

  Nanna’s seal encampment bustled with life. A large enclosure held at least thirty fat brown and white seals that lumbered along the ice. The specially bred seals smelled delicious sweet, juicy, and fat. Yrsa’s mouth watered.

  Nanna herself had barely aged in the last few years, her fur still gleamed white and her eyes remained clear. She nuzzled their noses in welcome.

  There had never been any doubt that Drifa would be welcomed by Nanna at the seal farm, and so she was. What was less expected was the presence of two humans among the Kaneedma, a man and a woman. Perhaps they looked familiar, but perhaps n
ot. Humans were hard to tell apart.

  “What is this, Nanna?” Yrsa asked.

  “They have been sent by our king to look for you.”

  “Why?”

  The woman spoke. Her Kaneedma was accented with the horrid screech of the brown Kaneedma from the Baltics. “I know we speak badly,” she said.

  That was an understatement. Their Kaneedma was so bad, anyone they spoke to would be driven to eat them almost immediately. But Yrsa didn’t say any of that, she merely nodded.

  “We will teach you our languages, if you will teach better us yours.”

  “They are ambassadors from the human realm beyond the rainbow gate,” Nanna said. “Our king sent for you to work with them.”

  “Why me?” Yrsa asked.

  “You shall be our first ambassador to the humans.”

  The man answered, and his linguistic skills were even worse than the woman’s. It caused Yrsa to wonder briefly if Modir was right about human sentience. “You talk us,” he said. “We make things right.”

  That made no sense, but these people were clearly Goddess sent. Perhaps they were the ones Jarree told her to find. Or perhaps this was Jarree’s way of preparing her to find the right ones.

  Yrsa didn’t want to go. She’d spent exactly one winter in her beautiful new home, most of that time herding rambunctious teenage Kaneedma, preventing them from destroying the place. But the truth was that she had no reason to say no and two adorable reasons to say yes. The king’s favor would grease the way for Drifa and Björn in the future.

  In the end, she accompanied the humans to the King of the Kaneedma’s ice palace where a well-appointed room was offered to her. She agreed, but only until the winter. She wanted to hibernate in her own bedroom, with the ice cub sculpture at the foot of her bed. She would make do with a palace until then.

  Edda - A Giant's Champion

  From the Edda of Caedmon as told to Narfi, son of Mani

  Lightning flashed around Eirik the Strong, dancing against his wind-rough skin and fine iron sword, never touching either. Every hair on his body danced to the tune of the buzzing blue fire.

  A mountain in the shape of a woman stepped forward.

  Her eyes blazed like the center of a volcano. Her skin was the brown bark of a tree. She smelled like fresh harvested wheat. Each step was an earthquake. Her voice was the mother of thunder. "Eirik. Why have you come?"

  "Jörd, the giantess," Eirik breathed.

  Her eyes were hot like the legendary forge where Brokkr shaped Odin's spear, Gungnir. A single tear from the giantess would burn him like the lava within a volcano. Her rage seared from her eyes. He had to make her smile or burn in her fury.

  He made his obeisance. "Jörd, Mother of Thor, Consort of Odin, Lightning Bringer, hear my plea. I come to you in my power ready to set my sword to your purpose. You take people."

  "They are ours to take, as are the goats and the whales and the field mice. All earthly creatures belong to me, for without the Earth they are nothing. Have you come for my blessing? For healing? For the embrace of the Earth? Are you ready to admit I am the true earthly goddess?"

  "They say that you build an army to fight Jörmungandr, the World Serpent. That you grant magic to those who serve you. Take me as your soldier."

  "You wish to fight in Ragnarök with all the others?" The earth stopped shaking and he saw a sly smile break across her vast, lovely face.

  "Yes, powerful lady, Consort of Odin."

  Thunder clouds gathered overhead and the lava within her eyes began to flow down her brown face again. "I am Odin's wife."

  Eirik's blood ran cold. He took a step back as if blown by her hot breath.

  He rushed to explain, "But I thought Freyr was Odin's..."

  "I am Odin's true wife; not Freyr."

  The earth shook under his feet and his sword dropped from his hand as he tried to balance on the shifting land. He could see his distant ship tossed by the waves brought by Jörd's foot tapping impatiently on the ground.

  "For those who wish to fight, they speak to my husband or my son. Odin's are the jarls who fall in battle, and Thor's are the thralls. Are you thrall or jarl, Eirik?" As she spoke a pack of four scrawny wolves, their fur jutting out every which way walked toward him, eyeing him hungrily.

  He picked up his sword. "Thrall, Glorious Jörd."

  "Why do you fight?"

  One wolf slunk closer, its paws silent against the dirt.

  "I fight for the glory of the gods. Please try me, Magnificent One. Send me your lightning. Take me as your champion. Watch!"

  He swept his sword in a circle aiming for the wolf closest to him. When it hit the wolf's neck, the vibrations almost caused him to lose the sword again. How was it possible that such a miserable creature had so much strength? But Eirik had trained to fight the gods' battles.

  He sliced his sword through the air again and the wolf's head went flying. A perfect demonstration of his value to a goddess gathering an army. He allowed himself a smile as he turned back to her and bowed modestly. "I am yours."

  "No, you belong to my impetuous son, Thor. I am Jörd, lightning bringer, giantess. I tower above them all. I encompass them. I have no need for you or your rudeness."

  Lightning flashed imprinting against his eyeballs in red and white jagged lines.

  Pain exploded on his right side and spread to his left. He pitched over to the ground, his fingers no longer under his control.

  Sparks played against his fallen sword, illuminating it, causing it to shimmer with rainbow lights as if it were part of the Bifrost, the burning rainbow bridge that links Asgard to Midgard.

  Though his ears burned and buzzed and he felt life draining from him into the ground below, he heard her last words, "Mine are the explorers who live beyond their time, touching the land of Thule, splicing into the beyond where all lives are possible. Mine are those who tend the land. Who grow the crops. You reject Midgard for the Aesir. You have no honor, nor true compassion for the Earth in whose bed you lie. You do not belong to me."

  Jörd retreated and where she stepped two small lakes appeared, but Eirik was past noticing. He didn't hear her say, "I pick my own champions.”

  Escape into Winter

  Carolyn Ivy Stein and Stephen K. Stein

  It was summer's longest day, yet winter's darkness closed in on my heart. The North Sea, so calm and blue an hour ago turned gray with the speed of a spear thrust. Violent waves frothed over our stern and bow.

  Hersir tied down the sail. The god of wind, Njǫror, laughed at Hersir’s efforts blowing my second-in-command’s iron gray hair into his face and rattling the horn at his belt. Always a cheerful man, Hersir approached the sea and the enemy with identical calmness and good spirits. He looked worried now and that fact alone chilled me more than the destruction of Aspedammen village or the enemy ships rowing toward us.

  The salt sea lashed my face. I welcomed the pain as a sharp goad to my dull brain. Angry clouds swirled in the sky. If the foul weather brought lightning, perhaps I could save our squadron.

  Hersir cursed under his breath. “In the name of all the gods…” But he bent to the task again. I joined him. Combining my muscles with his, we wrestled the heavy, wet sail to better catch the rising wind and lashed it securely. We didn’t have long before the enemy arrived. I needed a new plan.

  “Can you bring the goddess to your side, King Caedmon?” Hersig asked, hope pushing aside the worry in his eyes.

  I laughed. “The goddess does not serve me. I serve her.”

  “But if we made a sacrifice…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the approaching roundships and longships with their sails up and oars churning the water.

  My wife Magnihild prayed and sacrificed to Jörd, as if that would bring the goddess' love and favor to our kingdom. Obviously it wouldn’t, but logic doesn’t dissuade her. I was disappointed to see the same childish belief in the man that had been my father’s designated second-in-command and who had trained me in combat an
d tactics as a child. “This is not Jörd’s fight,” I said as I helped him adjust the sail.

  “Magnihild says Jörd loves you, surely she will not allow King Caedmon to fall if you call her.”

  I grunted, not wanting to engage in a theological discussion just then. I am not so god-blind I couldn’t see what was going on. Jörd was building an army. This was the sole reason she drew scars across my body and Magnihild’s. They served as channels for her lightning.

  She loves us, her select champions, like I love my soldiers. Or perhaps in the same way I love Draken Björnen, my longship, with her fortunate figurehead of a bear hanging on the neck of a dragon. The Draken Björnen protects us all. But if ships have prayers, I do not hear them. So, it was with Jörd. Perhaps she cannot hear our prayers. Or if she does, we are mere vehicles for her power.

  “But a goddess’s love is a powerful thing,” Hersir persisted.

  “Jörd will rescue us only when it fits her higher purpose. Until then her heart remains as cold as Thule itself.” I squeezed his shoulder, feeling the stout layers of wool and canvas underneath his leather and plate lamellar armor. It creaked as he moved. His young Irish wife had embroidered a serpent inside a series of interlocking knots on his woolen cloak. I hoped today’s battle wouldn’t mar her handywork.

  “See them?” I pointed to the mix floating toward us with all the grace and speed of pigs running to slops. “We will have invaders soon enough. We need to prepare the men for what will come.”

  He wanted to continue the conversation, but instead nodded and moved rapidly to Draken Björnen’s bow. His stride was graceful, as if he had been born on the waves, more natural on a ship than on shore.

  “Do you have a plan, sir?” a sailor asked me as I walked past.

  “Yes, of course. Be prepared. This may get worse before it gets better, but we will make it through.”

  I needed a plan. I needed to channel ice into my heart and find a way to turn our purpose into something that would benefit Jörd, attracting her to aid us. She would not come for our sake. Or even for the sake of the dead children of Aspedammen, so I needed to find another way to escape this trap alive.