Hela Takes a Holiday

by Rebekah Lewis

  Björn cursed and took off running toward the farms. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it felt unnatural. If it had scared Loki off, it had to do with the old gods, and there was one god in particular who wielded thunder and lightning like weapons. Loki had said that if Odin discovered nobody watching over Hela's realm, the gods—the Æsir of Asgard—would be angry.

  He would go to the grave defending his wife. Björn would keep her at his side until he physically couldn't do it. If facing down the gods wasn't a declaration of love, he didn't know what was.

  "Your husband must be running late helping Halvar with his roof," Sigrunn said, gazing out the window. "It is getting fairly dark and cloudy. And it's snowing."

  Hela stood from her chair and looked outside as well. "I better head back. He will be hungry, and it seems foolish having him walk all this way when I can make the trip myself."

  Thunder crashed nearby at the precise moment the flash of lightning lit the room. "Nay, dear one. Stay here where it is safe." Sigrunn turned away from the window, brushing her long, pale-blonde braid over her shoulder. Hela enjoyed spending time with the woman and learning how to help mortals who were sick and wounded.

  "Björn will come looking for me." More lightning and thunder followed behind her statement. Whatever was going on with the… Her stomach dropped as she made sense of it. "Thor."

  "What was that, dear one?" Sigrunn asked.

  "Oh, fret not. I will go now before it gets too bad. Thank you for showing me the herbs and explaining their uses." She ran out the door before Sigrunn could say anything more, regretting when the door slammed behind her. She didn't run toward the village though; instead, she ran toward the trees where the lightning was striking. If it was Thor, he was either looking for her or her father, and she needed him to stop swinging his hammer around and displaying his power. Mortals were too fragile for it.

  Someone was running out of the forest toward her, and Hela slowed, first thinking it was Thor. Fear gripped her heart when she realized it was Björn exiting the trees where Thor's bolts were flashing in his erratic display.

  Oh, gods!

  She picked up her skirts and ran faster to meet him, but she didn't make it before lightning struck the ground between them.

  Chapter 9

  A deafening boom shook the ground as a tall, broad-shouldered man with red hair and a long, braided beard appeared where the lightning struck moments before. Hela tried to pass by him to get to Björn, who had been thrown backward from the force.

  He wasn't moving.

  Hela screamed and rushed forward, but Thor grabbed her around the waist before she could reach Björn, turning her to face him. "What do you think you are playing at?" Thor kept a hold on her as he slipped Mjölnir into his belt and then held her by her shoulders with both hands. He shook her slightly. "Why are you not in Niflheim? You do not understand what you have done?"

  She didn't care about Asgard and their silly rules right then. "Björn!" she struggled to see him, but his body was still. "The lightning. Please, let me go to him." Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't lose him. Not yet. She'd only just found him.

  Thor turned his head to follow her gaze and sighed. "Godsdamned mortals. I didn't think anyone would be this far into the trees. I sent plenty of warning strikes to make sure any around would seek shelter while I found you and took you home."

  "Nay!" She pulled out of his grasp. "Loki gave me a chance to live a mortal life. I'm doing that."

  At this, Thor's eyebrows rose. "That was not his decision to make. He left the entire realm unguarded and unprotected."

  She sucked in a breath. "What?" That wasn't possible. He said he would take care of her duties. He said… How could she be so stupid? Loki had never said anything about what would become of Niflheim in her absence, and she hadn't given it much thought because she didn't want to lose the chance to leave. He had sabotaged her entire time here, which would have made it difficult for him to be there instead. Niflheim was open to anyone to come and go as they liked. She couldn't deny what Thor said, and mayhap she wasn't even surprised. Now she'd have to face the consequences for it.

  "Where is my dear father?" she spat out before deciding it wasn't worth waiting for a reply. There were more important things to worry over. She rushed to Björn's side. His chest rose and fell. He was alive. Thank the gods.

  "My apologies for shocking your mortal." Thor stepped into her line of sight and she glanced up at him, where he stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hela, you have to go back. Odin says it might not be too late to stop it."

  Odin could have sent someone to Niflheim if it was such a dire emergency. It wasn't like there weren't Æsir filling their time doing whatever they wished while she sat in a cold, dark fortress every day. Saying as much wouldn't make the situation any better though. She lifted Björn's head and placed it in her lap, then stroked his dark-blond locks from his face. He groaned, and his eyelids twitched. He was coming around.

  "Oskoreia."

  Clammy dread sent chill bumps over her flesh and her head snapped up as she gaped at him. "But that hasn't happened since—"

  "Before a goddess sat on the throne of Hel and kept order to the souls there. Aye." Thor started to pace. "You have to go back and stop it. Once night falls, the souls will ride through the skies, claiming new ones to take with them. All who cross their path are in peril. Those with wicked hearts will become beacons in the night. And they'll start here, where so much god-magic has been used. They sense you as one of theirs, and they sense Loki's malicious trickery."

  This was the last thing she had expected to happen. The dead would try to entice her to join their hunt, if the legends were true. Hela shook her head and tried to breathe calmly. "I need to get Björn inside where it is safe, and then I need to warn all of Iskygge." This was her fault. The most she could do is protect them while she figured out how to stop it without giving the gods exactly what they wanted from her: submission. It was her life. She deserved some happiness.

  "We have to leave, now!"

  "And I said I was staying." She scowled at him. "My father gave me twelve days to decide if I could live as a mortal. To love as one. I believe I can. I refuse to make a decision on anyone's terms but my own." She looked down at Björn who was blinking his eyes open, gazing up at her in confusion. She placed her palm on his cheek and brushed her thumb against his lips. "I was promised a mortal lifetime if I found what I sought, and I did. When that time is up, I will return, but not a moment before."

  Thor shook his head. "Any deaths tonight are your doing, Hela. You had the chance to prevent this. Why are you being so selfish?"

  She was weary of everyone telling her she was selfish when all she wanted was some aspect of joy. When she had never left her realm before. She wouldn't hold her tongue and spare them her thoughts any longer. She was through. "The All-father could have prevented it if he gave enough warning for someone to watch my realm in my absence. I was under the impression that my father was doing that, but he's been too busy lurking about Midgard." Her voice was as icy as Niflheim. "Go prevent it yourself, or stay and help me protect this village and the farms."

  "Many of the people here are Christians, or have converted at least." Thor retrieved his hammer from his belt. "They will not appreciate having their beliefs thrown into confusion."

  "The lightning," Björn said, his voice hoarse. Hela jumped. She hadn't realized he'd woken up again. "Use the lightning. Away from the longhouses and the buildings. It will keep people inside."

  Thor gave Björn a long, assessing gaze, then nodded before he disappeared and lightning struck on the other side of the village.

  "What's happened?" Björn asked as Hela trembled with the worry and fear she'd fought to hide from the other god. She didn't have her powers. She couldn't prevent what was happening unless she returned home. Was she being selfish to want something so badly that she would risk human lives to get it?

  "The dead are leaving Niflheim to ride through the night
s of winter," she said, her heart beating fast. The sky was darkening more. They didn't have much time. "As they did before my birth, at the end of every year. Odin led them then." Why was the All-father allowing it to happen now? Why hadn't he prevented it? He would have known she wasn't in Niflheim. He would have known what would happen when Loki wouldn't follow through with his promises.

  Which meant he had intended for this to happen, had known she wouldn't return home. Was it a lesson, or…his blessing?

  Björn sent Hela to the village to go door to door while he'd taken care of the farms. They'd decided to explain the reason for keeping them inside and avoiding the celebrations was due to a dangerous lightning storm. Björn himself could attest to how near he'd been to death. Nobody had given him any grief with his warnings, and he hoped Hela had been successful as well. He was to meet her at the great hall. Might as well be closed up with food and to keep an eye on the majority of the villagers.

  When he made it back, Hela ran out the door and threw her arms around his shoulders, kissing him briefly. Björn could get used to such a greeting. He wanted to claim her lips with a proper kiss, but it wasn't the time. Streaks of lightning followed by crashes of thunder continued to light up the dark sky, and he'd be lying if he claimed not to be on edge. There was an eeriness to the night when the light faded after each flash. Something was coming.

  The dead.

  Suddenly, the wind howled as an unnerving blue-green glow that wasn't caused by lightning began to illuminate the clouds. The thudding of hooves approaching sent chills of foreboding down his spine. He didn't need to see the dawning horror on Hela's face to realize what was happening. Instinct for survival made it clear. The riders were coming.

  "Inside. Bar the doors and stay away from the windows," he shouted to the onlookers in the doorway. His father joined them inside as Erik and Halvar closed the doors and set the wood bar into place. Hopefully those in their homes stayed put.

  "What's happening?" Birger asked him in hushed tones. All former merriment had faded from his face. "The weather has been acting strange all evening, and then Hela told us we couldn't leave until it stopped."

  "For everyone's safety." How did he explain to his father and his friends that the souls of Niflheim were descending upon the world of the living? "I was nearly struck on my way to fetch Hela for the feast. Shall we eat while we wait for the storm to pass?" He took a seat at the head table, waving Hela over to join him. Everything smelled wonderful, though he didn't have much of an appetite at the moment.

  "Björn…" Birger's voice held undertones of warning. The roof rattled as what sounded like clacking hooves moved over the top of it, and the looks of concern on the faces of those who had also sat down when he did, likely using his display of normalcy for encouragement, turned to terror.

  Halvar moved toward the door.

  "Do. Not. Touch. That." Hela stood, her palms still flat on the table. Her black hair had come loose from the braid in several places, but she didn't look any less regal or terrifying in that moment. She appeared every bit a queen, whether it be of the dead or the living or his heart.

  "Did you not hear horses? They will die in this storm," Halvar protested. The man offered no comment about how it had sounded as though they'd been on top of the building rather than on the ground.

  "It is not them I'm worried about." Hela crossed her arms. "When the storm stops, you may leave. Not a moment before." Most of those present seemed frightened or wary, and many nodded at Hela's notion to keep the door closed until it seemed safe. There were a few, however, who did not try to mask their agitation.

  Ragnhild stood from a table near the hearth. "And who are you to give us orders?"

  Björn bristled. He'd had quite enough of Ragnhild's utter disrespect for his wife. She may be a fine warrior, but she needed to understand her place. He rose to his feet. "She is my wife, the daughter by marriage to your jarl, and you will do as she tells you."

  Ragnhild threw back her head and laughed mockingly, her long red hair matching the orange of the flames in the hearth. "You did not even want a wife and now you fall upon her feet and believe every word she has to say while we lose good horses to this storm." She palmed the hilt of a sword at her waist. "Since when do lightning storms as this happen while it snows? All these strange events started when that witch came to this village."

  There were a few startled murmurs that sounded like agreements, but nobody dared to meet Björn's gaze or vocalize it openly. Birger cursed under his breath and then said, "You are out of line, Ragnhild. I know you hoped to marry my son, but—"

  "How dare you!" She stamped her foot. "Do not make this about some petty jealousy." She stalked closer, hand still on her sword. Björn moved his to his own weapon and noted that Erik and Halvar had also stood up and done the same, making slow steps closer to the table. They would help him protect Hela and the jarl at all costs. "That woman is a witch. And I'll prove it." She whirled toward the door, people moving out of her way, and then fought to lift the heavy bolt out of place. She managed despite none of the others making any move to assist her.

  As she pushed on one of the doors, it and the other flung open as howling wind rushed into the room, putting out the fire in the hearth and the candles in one fell swoop. An anxious hush settled over the great hall, and then Ragnhild stepped out into the night.

  Chapter 10

  That fool. Hela was so angry that her body trembled with rage. Did this woman hate her so much that she would see herself killed to prove that Hela wasn't a normal human? She couldn't explain the situation without causing more problems. "I have to go after her," she told Björn. Then she held out a hand. "Lend me your sword."

  Her husband stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You cannot go out there, not with..." Björn caught himself, but pleaded with her using his eyes. She hoped he understood that she didn't want to go after Ragnhild, but she had to do it. It was the right thing to do.

  "I'm the only one who can go out there." Hela turned to the rest of the hall, where everyone stared at her. "I'm not a witch, but grew up with more…er, pagan…beliefs. I will bring Ragnhild back, and the feast will go on." She looked at Björn again. "Sword."

  "You better listen to her, son," Birger said, respect in his tone. "If she thinks she can handle it, I say we let her. Now, do not give me that look. Mayhap she is not a witch, but a determined woman can handle anything they set their mind on. Your mother was the same way."

  Björn started to argue, but Hela stepped closer to him and whispered, "The gods used to ride with them." She brushed her fingers over his cheek. "I do not believe they will harm me." Even if they could, she wouldn't see him hurt in her stead.

  Reluctantly, Björn unsheathed his sword and handed it to her. The steel blade reflected the flash of lightning. A woman screamed in the back of the hall. "What is that in the sky!"

  "Stay away from the windows," Hela yelled. "Remain indoors. Nothing out there can harm you unless you cross their path."

  Erik stood by the door, watching the sky. His jaw was slack. "Bolt the door and do not open it until I return," she told him. As Björn made to follow her, she held up her free hand and shook her head. "I have to do this alone." It was her fault it was happening, after all.

  She stepped outside and looked to the sky. Over the farms, the shadows of ghostly riders flashed in the lightning. Once, when Odin led the hunt, gods, souls of the dead, and otherworldly creatures descended on Midgard in the winter months to claim the lives of the most wicked of souls. Tonight, the dead rode alone. There weren't any dragons or wolves at their heels. Odin, upon his eight-legged stead, Sleipnir, did not lead their hunt.

  Energy hummed through her and she gasped. The chill in the air became less noticeable, and power coursed through her veins. Her magic was returning. The release of the souls into Midgard voided Loki's agreement that she would remain free of her obligations here. Or mayhap because she was taking up the mantle as the queen of Niflheim.

  Which w
ay had that woman gone? If Ragnhild really thought there were loose horses to rescue, she would head toward the sounds. Toward the Oskoreia. Hela ran in that direction, clutching Björn's sword tightly as though it were her last remaining link to him. If she couldn't find Ragnhild and return soon, he'd come after them despite her warnings. He was named the Untouchable for a reason; he thought he was beyond defeat. This was a fight Björn would lose if he attempted to enter it. His heart was not wicked, but that wouldn't stop the dead from claiming him to join their ranks.

  "Ragnhild," she shouted. "Where are you?"

  "Witch!" Hela had mere seconds to step out of the way as lightning flashed to reveal the shield maiden rushing at her, sword raised, from where she'd hidden in the trees. "What unholy plague have you released on Iskygge?"

  Hela was going to be forced to use the sword, which she desperately hadn't wanted to do. She had never fought in this fashion, but with her returned magic also came her goddess strength. Ragnhild should worry that she might accidentally snap her like a twig if forced. Hela raised her sword in defense to deflect the other woman's attack, but it never came. "I am not a witch." Her hair had abandoned its attempt at being braided and whipped around her. At first, she thought the other woman was reacting to that when she gasped and held still. Then she covered her mouth with her palm and screamed.

  When Hela turned around; the ghostly riders descended from the clouds to gallop toward them. Sensing living souls to hunt for sport—and being drawn to her power. They were out of time. "Stop!"

  She raised both arms outward, sword in her right, the other palm out. The eerie horde hung suspended in the air where they bore down over them, assessing Hela and deciding whether or not to listen to anything she had to say. She would have one chance to stop this hunt, and it all came down to what she did next.