Highway to Hel

by S. E. Babin

  But with the way Loki treated me, the kind way he spoke to me, the gentle way he held my feelings, and the way he genuinely listened to me ... well, those feelings were speeding like a freight train through the passages of my heart. But he was a trickster, wasn't he? Admittedly, I hadn't seen a lot of that since he'd been here, but Loki was a master of manipulation.

  How could I trust someone who basically sold himself as the god of lies?

  And yet, I didn't pull away from his hand. He curled his fingers over mine and we sat there in comfortable silence until a few minutes before the doors were supposed to open.

  I finally pulled away from him and got up to stretch. "You helping out at the bar tonight or heading home?"

  Loki shook his head regretfully. "Not with Hel here, I'm afraid. I think the best thing for you right now is for me to stay away while she's here."

  I walked over to unlock the doors, but I couldn't help the frown that appeared on my face. "Do you think you're overreacting?"

  Loki stood from his stool and stretched, his lithe form elegant and graceful. "No," he said shortly. "I hope you never have to see why, Freya." With a bow, Loki excused himself and disappeared.

  It was a shame, too. We always made more money on the nights he worked. His charm was popular with the ladies.

  Who was I kidding? His charm was popular with me, too.

  Four

  The first customers trickled in less than a minute after I opened the doors. Today it was a husband and wife, folks who left Asgard with me the first time. She was a small, blonde thing and her husband looked like a cross between a giant and a lumberjack.

  "Hey, Freya," she said shyly as she walked over to a table close to the back.

  "Hey! What are you having today?"

  The husband grumbled their beer order and I stifled a smile as I turned away. He seemed like an angry beast, but the way his wife smiled fondly up at him told me there was more to him than met the eye. I took down two tall pilsner glasses and filled them with our latest IPA. Just as I was setting them on a tray to walk them over, Gravelbeard burst out of the kitchen, his hair floating around his head like a crooked halo.

  "Freya!" he shouted, looking around wildly. "FREYA! THERE IS FUCKERY AFOOT!"

  The couple clapped their hands over their mouths but not before I heard their shout of laughter. I sighed and turned to the ridiculous dwarf.

  Gravelbeard stood around four feet tall. His hair was a mix of brown and iron-gray, and I would love to see the comb that had ever tamed those locks. He was not an attractive man, but he was fiercely loyal. If anything could be considered attractive about him, it was his eyes. They were a mossy green, reminding me of long, rolling fields in Ireland, and sharp with intellect. Right now, those eyes snapped with annoyance.

  "Please indulge me with your tales of fuckery," I said, trying my best to quell the annoyance in my voice.

  "There are weevils in the flour!" he shouted, pulling at his hair like he was overcome with grief at a funeral.

  "Ah. Okay?" The bar was spelled to keep the creepy crawlies out so there was no way they should have gotten in. "Are you sure?"

  Gravelbeard gave me a withering glare. "Am I sure? AM I SURE? Of course, I am SURE. THERE IS FUCKERY ABOUNDING!" he shouted.

  A laugh huffed from me. "Okay," I said, holding a hand up. "I'll go check."

  "I don't know why ye'd check!" he yelled, his hands waving around wildly. "Because I just fucking told you!"

  Snorts and giggles came from the only occupied table. "Gravelbeard," I said, trying to ease his temper, "there are customers here -"

  "Yeah? Well, there won't be any food if we don't get the fucking WEEVILS out!" he shouted. And as quick as he'd arrived, he turned around and stomped back into the kitchen.

  I sent an apologetic glance at the couple, but they both wore wide grins which told me neither of them was offended by the errant dwarf's outburst. I swear. A devious part of me wondered if I should start charging admission just to see what Gravelbeard would do next.

  Heading back to the kitchen, I pushed the doors open only to see Gravelbeard take one of his axes off his back and hold it over his head to -

  "Don't you dare hack at my floor!" I rushed into the kitchen, slipping on a bit of spilled flour. Black bugs scattered around my feet, and I screeched in alarm.

  "Freya! I'll get these wily bastards, I will!" Gravelbeard tossed his ax aside and stomped on several of the fleeing bugs. Nausea roiled in my stomach as I scrambled away from the bugs. Horrified, I looked around the kitchen. It looked like a bomb exploded. Dirty dishes were scattered everywhere and food dripped down the new stove I'd installed earlier. None of that was a surprise. Gravelbeard went a little mad scientist when he was cooking. What horrified me was the sea of white upon the floor. A mostly empty ten-pound bag of flour lay on its side, the contents scattered across the entire floor of my kitchen.

  "My gods," I muttered. My heart pounded as I thought about how long this would take to clean up. I could use my magic, yes, but I chose to save it for things relating to security or to save life and limb. Plus, I wasn't the one to spill it.

  "I tried to get the blasted buggers, but they spilled out of the bag like white vomit!" Gravelbeard hopped and stomped around like he was in the cast of Riverdance.

  I held my hand over my mouth and took a deep breath to keep from laughing hysterically. When I calmed down, I hopped up on a clean counter and stared at the disaster in front of me. How in the world had these things gotten in?

  Gravelbeard stomped and smashed around, completely oblivious to me.

  "I think we're going to have to shut down the kitchen," I muttered to myself.

  The angry dwarf stopped abruptly. "Excuse me?"

  I blinked. How in the world had he heard that over all that racket? "Obviously we can't serve food in a contaminated kitchen."

  His eyes grew comically wide. "Are you fucking kidding me? Did you not live on Asgard for two fucking thousand years?! Have you never seen how ninety percent of that population lives?"

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Gravelbeard was on a tear. "We walked out into our fucking yard and picked out a cow, for the god's sake! That was our dinner! So you think we're scared of a few bugs?" There was an angry sneer on his face. I cowered under his intense anger.

  "I'm sorry," I said quietly, holding my hand up for peace. "I didn't realize."

  "Of course you didn't," he grumbled. "You were up there in your white palace, oblivious to how the rest of us lived."

  His words felt like a spear in my heart. He wasn't wrong and yet ... his words didn't feel true. Not to me, at least. "I think that's a little unfair," I said quietly. "I did my best to change things."

  He harrumphed and turned away. "It didn't stop you from enjoying the finer things and leaving the rest of us to suffer."

  I wasn't sure what to say. I had no idea Gravelbeard felt like that. Did everyone feel the same way? Despair made my heart clench. He wasn't wrong. Maybe harsh in his delivery, but I did live in the palace and I wasn't allowed to roam to my heart's content. It wasn't seemly, according to Odin. A huff of breath escaped my lungs as I thought about how to respond.

  "Do you want my help cleaning up the mess?" I asked, hopping down from the counter. The bugs continued scurrying around like they owned the place.

  He gave a sharp shake of his head. "No use hurrying if we won't be open for dinner."

  "Do you think we should stay open?"

  His head jerked in surprise. "You're asking me?"

  "I am." This felt important to me. I hadn't been super great about asking for his opinion in the past. Maybe because he always barrelled in with it before I could. But I'd never included him.

  "Aye," he said. "We should because no one who lives here really cares. As long as we don't serve the buggers up on a platter, we'll be fine."

  I wasn't sure I agreed, but I nodded anyway. "Then I'll leave it up to you," I said.

  The dwarf blinked in surprise. "Aye, Freya,"
he said, his voice gruff in the quiet.

  I nodded at Gravelbeard and turned to go. Just as I stepped out the door, I heard him murmur: "Thank you, Goddess of War."

  I ignored the lump in my throat and didn't allow my steps to hesitate as I went back into the main bar.

  Dinner was a hit, minus the presence of weevils. I had no idea how he kept coming up with such delicious fare. Tonight it was a spring mix salad with apples and fresh berries, a grilled chicken breast, and a sweet potato mash. He growled at me through the window every time he put a new order up. "And here's another gluten-free masterpiece." Even though he sounded pissy, I could see the sparkle from the thrill of creativity he got when he figured out a problem. This was admittedly genius. He'd solved the gluten-free problem without having to create any complicated recipes. The baking would be a larger challenge, but as soon as I thought about it, he shoved a plate of something at me through the window.

  "Try this," he growled. "It's gluten-free. I call it a pizza cookie."

  I looked down at the plate and stifled a smile. It was an enormous chocolate chip cookie, crisp around all of the edges, but gooey with large chunks of chocolate scattered around it. I leaned over it and inhaled.

  "Gravelbeard, this smells amazing."

  I could only see his the top half of his face through the window because he was short, but I didn't miss the glare he aimed at me. "It doesn't matter if it smells good if it tastes like shit," he growled. "Now hurry up and taste it so I can either scratch this or add it to the menu for tonight."

  "Fine," I said, holding down an annoyed sigh. Gravelbeard shoved a fork at me, and I cut a small piece.

  Dark chocolate and the molasses hint of brown sugar exploded on my tongue. I stifled a groan of pleasure because I didn't want to make the dwarf's ego swell any larger than it was.

  "I like it," I pronounced as I took a second bite.

  One of his bushy eyebrows went up. "That's it?"

  I nodded. "Add it to tonight's menu. I think people will like it."

  Gravelbeard reached one powerful paw up and swiped the plate from me just as I was cutting another piece of it.

  "Hey!" I shouted, waving my fork in agitation.

  "If it's just passable, then I'll eat it myself," he said and took an enormous bite of the delicious cookie.

  "Jerk," I muttered.

  "You're a beautiful sight, Freya, but you are stingy with praise." The dwarf wolfed down the cookie, burped, and nodded. "It hits all the right spots. Add it to the menu, please." He turned away and waddled back into the kitchen, leaving me standing there still holding my fork in the air.

  I was not going to apologize to an angry dwarf to get another cookie.

  I'd just sneak back in the kitchen when he wasn't looking and take one.

  Hel slithered down the stairs around 9 p.m., looking like every man's dream. Her dark hair fluttered in a breeze I knew wasn't natural and her lips were painted like a lady of the night. Her electric blue eyes flashed challenge as she looked around the room. It was like everything stopped as she made her way down the stairs. Even though the music still played through the speakers and people still talked quietly, there was a charge in the atmosphere that hadn't been there before.

  She came over to the bar and snagged the only free seat left.

  "Hello, Freya," she drawled. "I confess I'm quite peckish."

  She sounded like a heroine in some Jane Austen novel. I'd had one of the Valkyries sneak those into Asgard many years ago after I'd gone through Odin's entire ridiculous library. One could only read of war and conquest so many times before they went mad with boredom.

  Hel was playing a game here and I didn't know the rules. "Hello," I said politely. "What can I get you?"

  She clicked her short, dark nails on the bar and watched me. "I'll have a stout and whatever's on special."

  I rattled off the menu and she nodded. "Sounds wonderful," she purred.

  I turned to make her drink, my thoughts whirling with suspicion. She hadn't done anything at all to make me suspicious, and even in spite of Loki's warnings, I wondered if I was being unreasonable. She looked like she'd rolled out of a goth photoshoot, but she'd been nothing but polite.

  Was this what gaslighting felt like? Was there something there to explain my uneasiness around her or was I just overreacting?

  I knew Hel wasn't exactly one of the good guys. Her exploits were legendary, but they'd never involved me. Honestly, all of us had done some profoundly stupid things in the name of power. So I couldn't fault her there. But had she changed? Like how I'd changed? Or had she pretended to and laid low for so long no one really knew her anymore?

  Loki seemed to be a good judge of character and this was his daughter. If he told me to be wary, I should heed his words.

  After pulling the beer, I sat it in front of her and took the cash she held out. Only breakfast was included with her rate, but she'd been a good sport about supporting my place instead of heading elsewhere to eat. The Norns had set us up with a lot of new places, but most of them were still in the process of opening. Hel could leave any time and she knew it, but she chose to stay here.

  Hmm. Something to think about later.

  I called the order back to Gravelbeard and didn't wait for him to grunt his acknowledgment. My place was almost full and I was swamped trying to get orders filled and pour drinks. Normally when I worked, my mind became pleasantly blank, only focused on the task ahead of me.

  Tonight, my thoughts were filled with Loki. He always worked the bar. Or had until Hel breezed in here and decided to stay. I knew I'd see him when I went home. We lived together these days in an effort to try to see if we could handle our fledgling relationship, so it wasn't a lack of time together. We spent plenty of it together. But I missed him anyway. He was a joy to be around. Witty and intelligent, Loki could delight me and make me laugh.

  A surprised laugh bubbled from my lips as something occurred to me. I was Hel's stepmom and I was jealous of her. This sounded like the beginning of every fairytale gone wrong.

  Except ... I wasn't exactly the bad guy here. I wasn't sure who was, if anyone at all.

  But in the way my world worked, someone was always the bad guy. We just had to figure out who.

  Five

  I hadn’t paid Hel much attention when a gasp rang out from where she was sitting. I turned her direction and paled as Hel grimaced and held up a wriggling beetle between two long fingers. There was no way any of those bugs should have gotten out. I’d been keeping a close eye on the kitchen since the flour incident. Considering they never should have gotten into the bar in the first place, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Is today a free beetle with beer special I didn’t know about?” Hel asked sarcastically. She eyed the offending bug for a moment then crushed it between her fingers. I stifled the urge to dry heave and wordlessly handed her a napkin.

  Hel took it and wiped the bug juice off her fingers. She wrapped the dead bug inside and handed it back to me where I promptly tossed it in the trash. In a perfect world, no one else would have seen it. Alas, this was no perfect world. The customers around her all wore similar expressions of disgust and one by one they began to close their tabs out.

  Shit. Gravelbeard was wrong. People did care. Maybe they wouldn’t have blinked at a bug scurrying across the floor, but when Hel made a show of killing it, everyone decided they’d had enough. In one evening, she’d single-handedly managed to decrease my income. Whispers swirled around me and sure enough, people slowly began to gather their things and leave.

  Twenty minutes later, there was only one person left in the bar - Hel. She looked around in surprise. “Where did everyone go?”

  I fumed silently. She damn well knew where everyone had gone and not for the first time I began to wonder if she’d been the one responsible for the infestation.

  “It’s a weeknight,” I said. “Tends to be slower then.”

  She made a grunt of acknowledgment. “Doesn’t make a lot o
f sense,” she pushed. “Especially since no one in this town seems to have a job.”

  I carefully set the glass I was holding down and met her gaze. “A lot of people here hold down jobs, Hel. I have a job and I own this town. We have bakeries and restaurants and shops, and kids go to school now. It may not be the way you like it, but it’s the way it is.” I pasted a polite smile on my face. “Anything else before I start shutting down the tabs?”

  Her eyes widened in mock astonishment. “Oh, Freya!” she blurted. “I never meant to imply that people were lazy.” She smiled widely. “I just meant that people could stay longer! The party hasn’t even started!”

  Considering she’d run everyone out of the place, the party had no intention of starting. “If you’re interested in a party, they have bingo on Monday nights,” I said, barely repressing an impish grin. “I’m sure the ladies down at the hall would love to have fresh meat.”

  She blinked. “Bingo?”

  I nodded. “Yup. Every Monday and Thursday night. It’s brand new around here, but it’s been a huge hit.”

  Hel tilted back her glass and finished the rest of her beer, making me even more suspicious about the weevil infestation. She acted like it had come out of her glass and now she tilted it up and drained it? Either she was lying or Hel had no issues with bugs. Either one of those could be true. She lived in the Underworld, after all.

  But just as a derisive sneer began to form on her ruby lips, it faded and a calculating gleam appeared in her eyes. “Bingo,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll give it a try.” She threw some cash down on the bar and slid off her stool. I watched her slender back all the way up the stairs until she turned the corner.

  Why did I feel like I had just made a terrible mistake?