I frowned at her. “No. Can we go now?”
“I thought you might be looking for him.” Her curiosity was really bugging me now. “You are a strange one. Most souls don’t talk. They are confused, sad, or scared. They arrive here and just want to rest and relive their happy memories, so we send them to Eternal Halls.”
“Not me. I’m too curious. I guess I’m part of the few that talk. And I don’t have a lot of happy memories to relive,” I fibbed.
A weird expression crossed her face. “Hmm-mmm.”
“Shouldn’t we be going?”
She didn’t move. “We are giving Vestri and Nodd time to fix the young god’s room. Maybe bathe him.”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Then realization hit me. Someone was going to bathe Eirik?
“No, no, no. They can’t give him a bath until his body temperature is back to normal. My aunt is, uh, was a nurse, and she told me you don’t do that to someone suffering from hypothermia.” I turned and stared at the endless spooky tunnel. The thought of going back creeped me out. “I shouldn’t have left him.”
Trudnir gripped my arm. “Stay here. I’ll warn them.”
She touched the wall and the stones grew hazy and transparent, then turned into a doorway. Voices spilled out and reached us before I saw men and women hurrying past what appeared to be a bedroom. They were all Dwarves. The room was richly decorated with a thick tawny carpet and a huge canopied bed done in gold. Nice. The white walls had colorful paintings with gilded frames, and I spied a part of a mural on the ceilings. The effect was cheerful and airy. Before I could see more, Trudnir disappeared inside it and the doorway closed.
How the heck did she do that? Magic, of course. I waited for a few seconds and debated whether to continue without her. She should be able to find me as long as I stayed in the hallway.
Curiosity got the best of me and I continued forward. The hallway was wide with an arched ceiling with gorgeous paintings. More hallways branched from it. Like the bedroom, the paintings on walls were colorful and the frames gilded. The marble tiles on the floor gleamed and the light crystals had gorgeous sconces. The hallway ended in a front room with large windows.
I glanced back at where Trudnir had vanished, shrugged, and headed forward. The first thing I noticed when I entered the long curved room was the lack of color. Slate marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors with paintings were on one side and large windows on the other, but the frames were black. The stained glass on windows depicted battle scenes with giants, wolves, snakes, and dragons, men and women in armor, some with scepters—probably Witches. Must be the end-of-the-world battle I’d read about. Rag-something. The scenes were all done in black and shades of gray. Even the benches scattered around the room had gray cushions and gray embroidered frills. Through some of the window panes, I could see the snowy land covered with mist. The arched ceiling had gray murals, too.
“Odd, yet fascinating,” I said, turning around.
Trudy appeared beside me. “You haven’t visited here yet?”
“I reached Eirik’s room and kind of got distracted.” The lies were slipping out too easily.
Trudy threw me a look I couldn’t read. “Visitors wait here and state their case before they see the goddess. The important ones go directly to the Throne Hall. They come from all the realms. Even Alfadir has visited us several times to see the Golden One. None comes from Earth anymore. Very little magic left. Underground magic, you said.”
I didn’t understand the Alfadir reference until I remembered that in the gods’ realm, Odin was referred to as Allfather or Alfadir. Hayden had mentioned one of Odin’s sons coming up to Hel to beg the goddess to let go of his brother Baldur’s soul. Instead, she’d had told him that if everyone wept, she would release his soul. But Loki, Goddess Hel’s father, had tricked everyone by shifting into a giantess and refusing to cry. So Baldur’s soul now resided in Hel. I wondered if he was reliving happy memories in a resting hall.
Trudy continued to be Chatty Cathy. “Asgardians love to ask for all sorts of favors without offering anything in return. The Dwarves at least bring their magical weapons and creations, and their women are amazing cooks. My people have a special bond with the goddess, so she’ll always need us, and of course, Vanaheim often sends their Volür.”
I followed her across the Waiting Hall, trying to absorb everything she said. “Volür?”
“Seeresses from Vanaheim, the land of Vanir gods. They wander from village to village offering their services. Centuries ago, Volür also came from your realm, but that was before your people destroyed magic.” She smirked. I wondered if the smirk fest would stop if she knew what I was. “We even had Immortals from your realm living here in Hel’s Hall and with my people. They visited the major gods in Asgard and Vanaheim, and the minor ones of Alfheim. But that was a long time ago. Magic was wasted on Midgard.” She grinned. She seemed to get a kick out of reminding me that humans were idiots for not using magic. I agreed, but I’d never admit it to her.
I ignored the dig. “So when you say your people, do you mean you are not from Hel’s Hall?”
“Of course not. I’m a Jötun from Jötunheim. The gods and the Mortals came from a Jötun. Alfadir and some of the major gods have mothers and grandmothers who are Jötnar. We are more magical and powerful than the gods.” She smirked again. “That’s why I can change my size. This is Goddess Hel’s Throne Hall,” Trudy added.
We’d crossed the waiting area and entered a second room twice its size. This one had pillars strategically placed around the room and a vaulted, arched ceiling. Etchings depicting battle scenes covered the surfaces and the walls, but the black throne in front of the room dominated everything. Giant snakes coiled around the arms and the back, their white eyes gleaming. A black cushion wide and long enough to sleep on was on the seat, and to the right and left were two smaller seats, each with snake reliefs and etchings on the arms and back.
“Why are the Waiting Hall and the Throne Hall so dark and…?” I wanted to say depressing, but that wouldn’t be right. “And have no color.”
“She likes it that way, so visitors and souls don’t linger in her hall.”
The look she gave me said she considered me one of the lingering souls. I imagined the goddess sitting on her throne, looking down her nose at the people at the foot of the steps. Did she pass judgment in here and choose those who went to the torture chambers? I gasped and took a step back. I could have sworn the head of one of the snakes moved.
I raced after Trudy. A hallway led to our right, but to the left was an arched doorway leading to a room packed with old and sickly-looking people. They all looked kind of gray. A few looked at us angrily, but the majority just sat there with their heads down or stared into space with blank expressions.
“Souls. That is the Sorting Hall,” Trudy said quickly. “This way.” She hurried to the right, heading down a curving hallway. Voices came from ahead.
“Sorting Hall?” I asked, hurrying to keep up with her.
“Where the souls stay until they are assigned to an Eternal Hall. Most of them are tired after long illnesses and just want to rest, or are sad because their lives were cut short. I’ve never met a happy, curious one.” She shot me another pointed look, but I pretended not to notice.
“Are the souls of evil people in there, too?” I asked.
Trudy shuddered. “No. They are not allowed inside the halls. The Grimnirs hand them over to my father or my sister for the boat. Father takes them straight to Corpse Strand.”
The Torture Island Eirik had mentioned. We passed several empty rooms with tables and chairs. They were colorful like the hallway I’d passed through before entering the Waiting Hall. We were getting closer to the room where the voices were originating, yet I still had so many questions.
“Some of the souls looked angry,” I said. “I guess those are the ones whose lives were cut short.”
Trudy shrugged. “I guess so. My father says that wh
en people are not ready to die, their souls run away and try to find other bodies to possess. Like Maliina. Everyone thinks she’s still here, but Dad thinks she slipped through the portal and went back to Earth to find a body.”
Maliina. That was the girl Eirik was crazy about. “Did you know her?”
“No. I don’t associate with Mortals or their souls.” Trudy smirked. “But I saw her from afar when she visited. She was pretty. She was the only Immortal Witch to visit Hel’s Hall from Earth.”
Immortal? I wasn’t the only one to visit here, yet Eirik had acted like his mother would plug leaks if she discovered me. Or maybe Maliina had been special. During our first meeting, he’d mentioned not being raised by his mother. Did they have a relationship here or on Earth?
Tammy had said Immortals were real and interacted with the gods, but I hadn’t believed her. I couldn’t wait to tell her that she was right. She was going to be blown away by this. I glanced at my watch. Not an hour had passed since I arrived here.
The voices were now a loud buzz. The aroma of spices and baking wafted in the air, the sound of laughter mixing with utensils scraping the bottom of bowls. She’d said we were going to Grimnirs Hall.
“What are Grimnirs?” I asked, hurrying to keep up with her.
She sighed dramatically. “Hel’s soul reapers. You might even recognize the one who reaped your soul.”
Reapers? My stomach hollowed out and I stopped walking. Images of withered men in hooded robes and scythes flashed through my head. What if they recognize me as a fraud? I looked nothing like the gray souls I’d seen in the Sorting Hall.
“Celestia!” Trudy waved me forward impatiently. I didn’t move. I was surprised when she came back and asked, “What is it?”
“Are they”—I almost said scary—“nice?”
She shrugged. “I guess. One brings my sister beautiful things because he knows she loves jewelry, another brings my mom chocolates because she loves them.” Her voice grew wistful. “I love chocolate too, but I work with the goddess and she doesn’t like things from other realms.”
I stored that information for later. “What if they recognized me and want to reap me again?”
“They wouldn’t dare. Everyone knows you are under the protection of the young god.”
Young god? I hadn’t thought about how people here viewed Eirik. To me, he was the brave man who’d given up so much to protect me. To them, he was the son of their goddess, a young god in his own right. I wondered what they thought of the way his mother had treated him.
“Are some of them scary?” I asked. When she frowned I added, “You know old, wrinkly, and weird-looking.”
She laughed. “You are talking about Idun-Grimnirs. They don’t reap anymore. Come on.”
Taking a deep breath, I followed her, the noise level rising with each step we took. Conversations reached me. I entered the arched doorway and my eyes widened. Men and women of all races and sizes in black dusters with hoods, matching pants, tops, and boots, either sat at tables or stood in groups talking. A memory teased me then disappeared before I could grasp it.
There were so many of them. Hundreds. Maybe more. The dining rooms appeared connected by broad doorways and all the long tables were packed. Through another archway, I saw what could be an entertainment room with pool tables, sofas, and dartboards. The ones not eating chugged drinks or played games. Large carts moved between the tables.
At first, all I saw were the carts moving slowly and mechanical hands passing out trays and taking back some. Then a cart turned a corner and the little woman seated behind the wheel in front caught my eye. A female Dwarf. She couldn’t be more than three feet tall and flirted with the reapers.
“Scary, aren’t they?” Trudy teased.
I ignored her teasing. From my online resources, dead warriors went to Asgard, where they trained, so were these reapers dead, too?
“The Idun-Grimnirs don’t eat here,” Trudy said. “And they’re not scary. They are old and wise and never say much.”
The Grimnirs at the tables nearest to the doorway saw me first. They stared, and then whispers swept the room before silence followed. All eyes were on me. Not sure what to do or say, I gave them a tiny wave and an equally weak smile, then grabbed Trudy’s arm.
The silence continued for a few seconds. Then conversation resumed. When I glanced back, I met a few stares. Okay, a lot of stares.
“Why are they staring at me?” I whispered.
“News spreads fast in the hall. A soul leaving their hall has never been heard of.”
“Are they souls, too?”
“No, silly. Flesh and blood. Men and women specifically chosen to become reapers and given the knowledge of the gods and other realms,” she whispered. “They are Immortal with super human strength and speed. That’s how they reap thousands of souls a day.”
Super strength and speed, Tammy had said. Immortals were real.
“So they were once Witches, weren’t they?” I asked triumphantly.
“The few left in Midgard,” she shot back. “Idun-Grimnirs have to search high and low to find any Mortal worthy of immortality. They use runic magic and can reap anyone, the gods and my people too. Luckily for them, we live for a very long time, so they only do it once every couple of centuries. Still, no one likes to travel to Muspelheim to reap a fire giant. They have demons down there.”
This was surreal. These men and women reaped souls of dead people, yet they seemed normal. Happy. They were teasing each other, playing pool and card games. Some even had handheld video game consoles.
My hip hit something and I whipped around. We were by a long window. From the number of carts with shelves of trays waiting to be driven, this was the serving counter. Beyond it I could see female Dwarves stirring large pots from high stools, pouring chopped vegetables into large containers, and kneading dough. Fresh loaves of bread and pastries were cooling on racks to the left.
“I thought you said we weren’t going to the kitchen?” I whispered.
She smirked. “I lied. Like you. How do you say it? You are full of bullshit.”
My jaw dropped. I should have known I couldn’t pull off this soul stuff. No wonder she’d kept asking me questions.
“Is this the girl, Trudy?” a female Dwarf asked. She stood on a stool and had the same red hair and green eyes as Trudy. I knew they were related before she spoke.
“Yes, Mama,” Trudy said. “Celestia, my mother, Maera. She is in charge of the meals. If you need anything, come to her. To create a portal in Hel’s Hall, just focus on the person and a portal will open to wherever she or he is.”
Oh, the overgrown pipsqueak had made me walk up all those stairs and that dingy tunnel for nothing. “Nice to meet you, Maera,” I said.
“We need soup and fresh pastries for the young god, Mama. Vestra and Nogg are probably done by now.”
“They are,” Maera said, her eyes still on me. She was frowning now. “You are a pretty little thing.” Little? That was hilarious coming from someone who had to stand on a stool to be my height. As though she knew what I was thinking, she grinned. “You also have beautiful hair, so why do you cover it?”
I touched my head, but my hands closed on the bunny-eared winter hat. I hadn’t known I was still wearing it. I yanked it off.
“That’s better.” She raised a hand and silence filled the room behind her. “Everyone, this is young god Baldurson’s girl, Celestia.”
A chorus of “Welcome, Celestia” greeted me. I gave the Dwarves a little wave even though I wanted to protest. I was no one’s girl.
“If she needs anything, you give it to her because she speaks for the young god.” Maera lowered her hand and the activity resumed.
I glanced at the Grimnirs, who’d probably overheard our conversation. To feed them, the kitchen had to be huge with hundreds of workers, yet I could only see the front part with a few cooks. Most of them were women.
One brought a tray with two large bowls of broth and round loave
s of bread wrapped with a cloth. They were hot. My mouth watered. A pitcher of honey-colored liquid and two beautifully decorated crystal mugs sat on a second tray. Trudy had already found a two-shelf cart.
“Take them and go,” Maera said. “The poor child is starved. This time she went too far.”
“Mama!” Trudy glared at her, then placed the trays on the cart and glanced at me. “Follow me.”
A portal opened and I could see outside Eirik’s door. It was partially open. We walked through the portal and just before it closed, my eyes met Maera. She was staring at me and frowning again.
Could she tell I was a fake, too?
~*~
EIRIK
Celestia’s voice reached me from outside my door and I dove under the covers. I’d begun to worry that something had happened to her. I didn’t trust my mother not to go after her. I couldn’t even explain why I didn’t want her to leave yet. Or why relief and excitement zipped through me. She talked too much and was bossy. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was an excuse. She reminded me of home. She was snarky and funny.
The door opened and she entered. Her jaw dropped at the transformation in the room. She’d removed the bunny-eared winter hat and her hair tumbled down her shoulders. I wondered if it was as silky as it looked.
Annoyed by my thoughts, I closed my eyes and tried to see the room through her expressive eyes. Refusing my mother’s offer to use my bedroom had only made her more creative. She’d brought the bedroom to me.
The oak bed was perfectly placed so the head was against my old stone bed. They had replaced the torches with glowing crystals, which I didn’t mind, but I’d told the two Dwarves to take back the wall tapestry, vanity mirror, and the wall-to-wall floor mat. I didn’t mind the table or the fire in the portable stone fireplace, but the lush throw rug by the bed and another by the claw-foot bathtub in the corner of the room were over-the-top. They’d checked with my mother and she’d refused to budge.
Changing from my stinky clothes into pajamas had taken me a good half hour, but I had insisted after kicking the servants out. My mother, wherever she was, was probably grinning gleefully because she’d gotten her way.
Demons (Eirik Book 1) Page 13
