by Mia Darien
Squeezing his hand often, she talked to him. It was the most energetic thing she had managed to do since they ended up in this terrible place. She felt like she nearly had roots stretching into the ground, to be uprooted when they came to move him to another room for longer-term care than ICU could provide.
Jesse didn’t like when that happened. “Long term” were words that poked holes in her brain and her heart, letting her hope leak out and run off down the hallway. The fog around her thickened and she followed the wheeled hospital bed with the orderlies through the hospital until they reached the new room.
This one had four people in it, all curtained off. Not all of them were in a coma, but they were all “long term” care.
Long term...
Sitting beside his old bed in its new location, she traced the lines on his hand over and over again. She’d lived with these hands for over ten years now, but had never spent as much time contemplating them as she had these past three days. The door opened, but now there was only a one-quarter chance it was for her. She didn’t bother looking up, but the clicking of a pair of professional pumps on the tile floor drew near her.
“Mrs. Dixon?” the voice belonging to the heels asked. As expected, the voice was female.
Jesse forced herself to look up and received an overly sympathetic smile. She introduced herself as Ella Ari, and she was a social worker at the hospital. She came to talk over...’things’ with the patient’s wife.
It had taken only the length of a breath for Jesse to decide she hated the woman. She stared at her like steel doors were shutting around all the open ports in her mind. She blocked away her hatred, but stared silently and blankly. The social worker just droned on, and everything she said sounded like a grief counselor come to console Jesse.
“He’s not dead yet, you know,” Jesse murmured.
“What was that?” the other woman asked, still with her funereal air.
“I said...” Jesse replied, forcing her voice louder as she lifted her dead gaze to Ms. Ari. “I said, he’s not dead yet. Stop talking to me like you’re here to help me mourn.” She spoke each of these words with enunciation, hints of her emotions slipping into it.
Ari blinked. “I... I didn’t meant to imply otherwise, Mrs. Dixon. But we must face the possibilities—”
Jesse cut her off harshly. “No, I mustn’t!” Pressing her lips together, she forced herself to reel it back in. There was nothing this social worker could do to her or Tom, except bother her deeply. She ground her back teeth together for a moment. “My husband is not dead and until they come in and tell me otherwise, that’s the only possibility I plan to focus on.”
To her credit, Ari recovered quickly and nodded. She put a card down on the small table beside Tom’s bed. “If you need anything,” she said and hastily made her exit.
When the door shut, Jesse shuddered with her entire body. Once again, she gripped Tom’s hand tightly in hers and then pressed her forehead against their fingers. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to stem the flow of tears as they welled up in her eyes but there was no stopping them and they spilled over their joined hands.
She cried for what seemed like forever before finally lifting her eyes to look over Tom’s face. It just looked like he was sleeping, nothing like he was hovering on the verge between this world and the next. What would it take to pull him off that point and into this existence again?
Rising, she stroked his cheek and then pressed her lips to his ear. “If I have to crawl into the hall of the gods and strangle the All-Father myself to bring you back, I will.” She pressed her lips to his cheek and then left his room.
Jesse knew she could do nothing for him just sitting and crying at his bedside.
Their studio apartment felt bereft the moment she walked into it. The emptiness and darkness was so total that she almost turned around and left again. She stopped herself from doing so and walked in.
She turned on all the lights, whether she needed them or not, and she turned on the television to a show Tom liked and let it run. It didn’t matter if she liked it, just that its noise filled the space. Jesse even turned the heat up to where Tom liked it, and where she was constantly turning it down from in their Thermostat War.
Some part of her knew that she should eat something, but instead she went right to her laptop. Setting it up on the bed, since she didn’t have a desk for it, she let the background noise start to soothe the gaping pit in her soul—which she could feel like a physical pain just below her breastbone—while she pulled up the internet.
Jesse accessed the saved links she had for her pagan studies. Although not wholly Asatru—those who were devoted to the Norse gods and reforging their ways—her pantheon was full of the deities of the Northmen. She knew others that she could call and ask questions of, but she didn’t want to.
There was an idea blossoming in her mind, but she didn’t want to share it. She knew they would think she was crazy, but she had always believed that the gods were all around them. If you looked hard enough, you could find them. She was more literal than a great many of her fellow pagans, but that was okay in their world.
Just searching the internet for the old tales from the North about how people used to gain the attention of the gods was overwhelming, and she knew there was a task ahead of her to sort through them all and find the ones that might be useful. She knew that simple prayers, even over her altar, would not call them down. If it did, then there would be a lot more chats over beer with Thor and Freyr.
Time ceased to have any meaning. At one point, she forced herself to get a glass of water.
She found a notebook on the dining room table and flipped past pages of shopping lists and things to do until she found blank pages. Setting it on the bed beside the laptop, she began taking notes. Some of them were direct from the pages she saw, and others were about eddas and sagas that she needed to find and research. She knew that she had some in books that she already owned.
Names and years and places began to swim before her vision and started to make less and less sense. When she had to re-read the same word four times and it still didn’t make sense, she began to wonder if maybe the lack of sleep and food was telling on her.
Closing the laptop, she put it on the nightstand and then laid down on the bed just as she was. She had taken off her shoes earlier, but left her clothing on.
She didn’t sleep.
Every time her eyes opened, she saw the empty side of the bed. When she flipped over, her bruised arm hurt and she saw Tom’s winter coat as it hung by the door until the season when it was needed again. She tried lying on her back, but just wasn’t comfortable. It felt unnatural to try to sleep that way.
Getting up, she grabbed her pillow and then Tom’s and carried them to the couch. With her own under her head and his in her arms, she resisted the pain from her bruises to keep that pillow clutched to her chest as she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.
Eventually, her exhausted body and mind forced both to shut down into a state of restless, dreamless sleep.
In the morning, she went back to the hospital. There had been no change in Tom’s condition, and she hadn’t really expected there to have been. This time, she laid down on the bed beside him. These beds really weren’t made for two, but for a few moments, she would make it work. Closing her eyes, she laid next to his unmoving form and choked her heart back down from her throat to where it was meant to be.
Her boss called while she was driving home.
“Jesse... How’re you doing?” She could tell that he was trying to sound sympathetic, but it had never been his strong suit.
“I’m holding up,” she replied. It was as honest as she intended to be.
He didn’t reply right away, like he was trying to figure out how to say whatever he wanted to say next. Either it would be some awkward question about Tom’s condition, or...
“Do you know when you’ll be coming back to work?” He took a straightforward approach, which suited him
better. He simply was not a man prone to empathy or subtlety, but neither were traits that helped one succeed in the business world.
“I just need a few more days,” she sighed. “Isn’t Nancy managing alright?”
He grunted softly. “She’s fine, but you’re better at the job.”
That was only because she was the only secretary there who knew how to organize things in the way her boss preferred, and he didn’t like having to deal with people who didn’t know all of his systems and idiosyncrasies.
Work just wasn’t a priority for her right then, and she couldn’t force it to be. She had something more important to take care of. “I just need a few more days. I promise, I’ll be back to work soon.”
He grudgingly agreed and hung up without saying much more.
Jesse shook her head as she parked on the street outside the public library. She pulled the folded piece of paper out of her purse and went in, using the computer to pull up where all of the books she needed were. She took them down one at a time, bringing them to one of the long wooden tables in the center.
Open books and more handwritten notes. Once they were all put away, she had her paper scribbled over on both sides with notes being written in every direction. She emerged from the library with a single reoccurring theme, but she couldn’t know if it was the answer.
Could it really be that easy?
On her notebook were the words “blood oath” and they were underlined several times because she had found it come up in several different sources. When mortals wished to gain the attention of their deity, they took an oath marked in blood. The gods of the north took such things very seriously.
She also knew that they would not be kind if they didn’t feel she had summoned with good purpose.
When she got home, she found the apartment hotter than she liked. The heat made her choke up as she crossed the room and returned to her computer. Opening it up, she spent all of her time until dark researching blood oaths. Being that it was the internet, she had to spend a fair amount of that time avoiding websites about “vampires.” Searching for the word “blood” was apparently very risky.
Once it was dark, she closed the computer and moved to the window. She looked out over the cement jungle she lived in, and knew that this wouldn’t do. Seeing the lights across the city, she took a moment to ask herself what she was thinking. Did she really believe that she could summon a god? She believed that the gods existed and that a believer could call upon them, but she had never known anyone to gain a response. At least, not a response in as much as she needed.
However, this was 2016. It was not the days of battle and blood, not like it used to be when the gods walked the Earth at their strongest. Did anyone truly make proper blood oaths when they called upon their gods? Did they understand what it took?
Jesse hoped she did. Her life depended on it, because if she lost Tom, she lost everything.
She had to drive outside of the city just to find a small tract of forest. Her purpose was so intent that the shudder she’d felt when climbing into a car didn’t touch her now as she pulled onto the side of the road along the trees. She was pretty sure that, technically, it was private property, but not anything that anyone would come out to in the middle of the night. Not believing anyone would go in looking for her, she felt the most she risked was having her car towed and she was willing to risk that.
Shutting the doors and locking them, she stuffed her keys in her pocket. Everything else had been left at the apartment, because she wanted to be as little burdened as possible.
Jesse walked resolutely into the midst of the little forest until she was out of sight of both the road and the city’s skyline. It was dark and that amplified the faint chill in the air, making her pull her jacket closer. When she felt she was secluded enough, she pulled out the pocket knife that was the only other thing she carried with her.
She unfolded the blade. This wasn’t exactly something she was good at. In her adolescence, she hadn’t been a cutter. In fact, getting injured was something she generally worked hard to avoid. She knew that this, however, was her first test. It didn’t matter what she wanted or what she was good at, it was what she had to do.
As she pressed the tip of the blade to her palm, she winced. Finally, she just had to shut her eyes and let the blade slide down her skin, hoping she didn’t cut anything important. The blood ran hot and free, sliding down the wrist of her upheld arm. The strange, thin pain made her feel slightly lightheaded but she opened her eyes.
She squeezed her hand into a fist and let her blood drop onto the Earth. “I call upon Odin the All-Father, the god of wisdom and poetry and warriors. I call upon him with my blood to pledge myself to him in exchange for a boon of life and death. Please, hear my call.”
The blood tapered off until it stopped, and nothing happened. Jesse let out a long breath and dropped her hand. What really had she been expecting, she chastised herself. Of course Odin wasn’t going to show up just because she called. He was king of the gods, not a taxi driver.
Turning around, she shrieked and fell back on her ass.
Somehow, she had stopped being alone in the trees and she had never heard a thing. She looked up at the figure of a large man who had been standing a breath away from her, and she’d never heard a thing. Her eyes roamed from his boots up to his head, taking in quickly that he had to be well over six feet tall, almost as broad through the shoulders, with long blond hair tied back low, a blonde beard, and...
...a patch over one eye.
Jesse felt all of the air sucked out of her lungs.
“All-Father,” she breathed the word, feeling her heart skip every other beat.
“You sound surprised.” His voice was low, rumbling like mountains shifting against each other, but also amused as one brow rose. Swallowing hard, she saw that he was wearing...a suit, a dark suit with the shirt open. “Did you not call me in blood?”
“Y-yes, I did,” she said, swallowing her heart back down into her chest as she forced herself to get back up. Her gods did not ask for groveling but for strength, and she had already shown more weakness than she should have. Once on her feet, she pulled herself up straight and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Yes. I did.” She forced herself to be calm, even as her throat began to seize up for what she wanted to ask. “My husband hangs on the verge of death, in a coma. His brain is swollen and bleeding. I can’t lose him.
“They can’t do anything. I see that in their eyes, even if they won’t admit his. His life is...” She paused, realizing just how true her statement was. “His life is in the hands of the gods, and I want to weight the scales. I’ve called for your help.”
“You all do,” he replied, not angrily but resignedly. “You humans always call on us most when you are in need of something.” Locking his hands behind his back, he began to walk around her in a slow circle. He was so intimidating that she had to fight to keep her knees from audibly shaking. It wasn’t just his size, although that was considerable, but the aura he radiated that tried to push her to her knees. She wouldn’t let it. She didn’t turn to follow him with her gaze, because to her, that would show fear.
She was terrified, but she’d be damned—and maybe literally—if she showed it.
“What do you offer in return for this?” he asked while still behind her.
“What do you want?”
His laugh sounded more like a bark and it made her think of wolves. In the trees, large birds flapped their wings and she felt a chill. “That is not the point. I am Odin. I want for nothing. You are the one who wants. What are you willing to sacrifice to get it?”
Jesse didn’t reply at first. She would have died for Tom, but yet, she loved him too much to put the weight of her death on him. Not like this. And this was not like the devil of the Christians, who traveled around trying to buy souls. “I don’t know,” she whispered, already feeling like she had failed. “I would give my life if you demanded it, but couldn’t have him know I died for hi
m and let him live out his own life with that. It would break him.”
“Hmm.” The king of the gods made a noncommittal noise. “So you are willing to give all for him.” His footsteps continued until his hulking form came before her again. His gaze was like steel as it stabbed into her. “You beings live in such a faithless age now. Your modern world is full of oathbreakers and those who do not value the blood they are given, or that they give. I cannot believe you will hold to your oath—”
“I will!” Jesse exclaimed, galling herself by interrupting Odin. She swallowed hard, almost wincing as she waited for rebuke, but didn’t stop. “I don’t break my promises.”
“I require your proof,” he said simply, unimpressed with her. “I will bring you to my realm, to the land of the gods, but you must find your way to my mead hall. Only when you do will I consider granting you this favor.” He held up his hand before her face just as a pair of large black birds—ravens—flew down and landed on his shoulders. She had just looked into the eyes of one of the great birds when the world went black.
When she lifted her face, she was no longer where she had been. She had no idea where she was at first and felt panic suffusing her, until she remembered Odin and what he had said about sending her to the realm of the gods. Once she remembered that, she panicked even worse.
“What have I done...” she whispered as she scrambled onto her feet, dusting off her clothing without even thinking about it. Then she thought about Tom lying on the hospital bed, needles piercing his skin, monitors stuck on, and tubes hanging around him. When she thought of him, she remembered and she squeezed her eyes shut to control the panic.
There was no chance of getting rid of it, so the best she could hope for was to control it rather than let it control her. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and looked ahead to see what was before it.
The sight didn’t inspire confidence.
Stretching on towards the horizon was a grey wasteland. The land looked dead and covered in a haze, dried and broken trees jutting from the ground in random angles and the land itself parched and cracked. As she followed along the line, she saw a forest at the other side and the forest lived at the base of a mountain. At the top of that mountain sat a long wooden building that somehow managed to convey both rustic and stately.
