All of the Aesir except the Queen made their way out. The girl threw one last glance at Thomas before she left.
“Good luck,” Ratatosk whispered as he climbed down from Thomas, but before he could make an escape, Odin called him.
“Not you, Ratatosk. You can stay,” he said, and Ratatosk flinched and froze in place.
The doors to the hall closed heavily. Thomas and his guide were alone with Odin and his Queen. Odin turned around to face them, centering his gaze on Ratatosk. “Tell me now, you misbegotten rat, why didn't Heimdall announce your coming? Why didn't you cross through Bifrost?”
The names ran in Thomas’s head—Heimdall, outlook for the Aesir and watchman of the rainbow bridge. The rainbow bridge's name was Bifrost, and that also brought up the name of Odin's wife, Frigg, mother of the Gods. He had also recognized, Thor, Loki, and Freijja, but he had been too nervous to concentrate on what he had read about the Norse Pantheon.
“We…uh... came through the Nornir Hall, my lord,” Ratatosk said.
“The Nornir?” Odin asked. “And who opened the way for you?”
“Verðandi, my lord.”
“Verðandi…” Odin looked back at Frigg.
“That actually explains so much, my husband,” Frigg said from her throne.
Odin nodded. “It actually does,” he said, “but it creates more questions. Questions that need to be addressed right now and I can’t think on how to begin to address them.”
“Don't worry, my love,” Frigg said. “I can handle this conversation.”
Odin nodded while rubbing his bearded chin. “Go ahead, my lady,” Odin said, staring at Thomas. He then sat down heavily on his throne.
Frigg turned to Thomas. “What is your name?” she asked.
“My name is Thomas Byrne, your highness,” he said, bowing.
“Welcome to Asgard, Thomas Byrne,” she said. “We are pleased to meet you.”
“Thank you,” Thomas said.
“We would like to know about you,” Frigg told him. “Please tell us your story.”
“Is that really necessary?” Odin leaned toward Frigg. He seemed a little bit annoyed by the prospect of having Thomas talk about himself. Frigg gave him an admonishing look and Odin leaned back again on his seat.
“So…tell us, Thomas Byrne,” Frigg said. “Tell us all about you and why you come to Asgard.”
“Where should I start, my lady?” Thomas asked.
“At the beginning,” Frigg answered while Lord Odin sighed audibly.
Thomas took a deep breath and began to speak.
The Rod of the Aesir
After what seemed like an hour, Thomas felt that he had covered most of the time he had worked as a Guardian. Unlike at the Halls of Remembrance, where Mneme had just learned everything there was to know about him, this time Thomas felt that he had left so much unsaid. Talking was actually too limited, too slow. So many things were left unsaid, so many feelings that he would have liked to convey but couldn’t.
Lady Frigg listened attentively, and even asked questions here and there. She had been very interested about Killjoy and then about Tasha’s betrayal and the battle of Ormagra. Lord Odin, on the other hand, had lost interest immediately, and Thomas saw that he had even dozed off for a minute or two. Lady Frigg actually gave him a little slap on the hand to stop him from snoring.
Thomas had almost done the same to Ratatosk when he felt the grip of the squirrel softening once or twice. He didn’t want the squirrel to fall from his shoulder because he had put him to sleep.
Thomas reached the battle at Ethipothala Falls in his story, and Lord Odin suddenly showed signs of interest.
“Enough!” he said. He glanced at his wife. “I really don’t need to hear anymore, my lady. Do you?” he asked Lady Frigg.
“I think we have heard enough,” she said.
“You’re here about a sword,” Odin said. “A powerful sword, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Thomas said. “That’s how my grandfather has been tracking us, using Gram as a guide.”
“Gram!” Odin scoffed. “Gram is a husk, its real power depleted, its reason for being fulfilled, it is but a mere shadow of what it used to be under Sigurd!” Odin laughed. “I don't know how he got it though. We left it on Midgard along with many other trinkets.” He winked at Thomas. “At least we didn't leave sons and daughters around like those effete Olympians! I've heard that they still go to Midgard to...procreate. Self-indulgent slime! If I ever have the chance to meet again those decadent, degenerate...” The Hall grew dark and hot, mirroring the mood of Odin as he spoke. Thomas jumped as a flash of lightning bolted behind the throne.
“Husband.” Frigg touched Odin on the shoulder, stopping the angry tirade while smiling at Thomas. “Please.”
Odin breathed and the Hall became calm again. He looked at Thomas. “Let's just say that the Olympians and us don't see eye to eye. We always liked humans for their accomplishments, for what they could become, not for what they could give us.”
“I understand, my lord,” Thomas said.
“In any case, even though Gram is still way more powerful than any Midgard sword, that's not the only reason why your grandfather can track you,” Odin said. “Do you want to know why he can?”
Thomas nodded.
“Because he's a hero,” Odin said. “He believes in what he's doing, and he has proven himself countless times even before joining the Azure Guard. He's admired and respected by his allies, feared by his enemies, and envied by his peers. He wields Gram because he can and Gram responds to him. You understand this, Thomas Byrne?”
Thomas sighed. He certainly considered his grandfather a hero since he was a kid. In the Marines, his grandfather had received commendations for valor and even a Purple Heart for the injury he had sustained in battle. The Fauns spoke about him like he was a savior and Thomas already knew that his grandfather would never give in or give up until he found the Book of Concord. His grandfather had told him that he believed the world would become a better place, a magical place once he had the book and that conviction was what fueled his quest.
“He finds you because he wants to find you,” Odin spoke again. “He is a hero looking for…what?” He stood from his throne. “What are you, Thomas Byrne?” he asked as he walked toward Thomas.
“I've...never thought....” Odin had taken Thomas by surprise. He had never thought of himself as a hero.
“Are you a hero?” Odin asked again.
“I...uh...my team...” Thomas mumbled.
“You mean your keepers and protectors. Yes, you walk among heroes, but you're their ward. Even your stone and metal golems have proven to be heroes and would sacrifice themselves for you, but you're not really their leader, are you? You're their ward.”
Thomas breathed hard, because deep inside he knew that Odin was right. Tony, Bolswaithe, and Elise not only looked after him, but they did everything in their power to keep him away, as far away, from harm as they could. Even to the point of exposing themselves to danger on his behalf.
That had been one of the reasons Elise had been touched by the Namtarii. She had thrown him inside the protective circle while she faced two enemies by herself.
“Tell me, Thomas Byrne,” Odin said. “Are you honorable beyond reproach?”
Thomas kept quiet, taking a second to analyze himself. Honorable? Yes, he thought himself as honorable. Beyond reproach? He could think of many things he had done that were a little bit dishonest, but that could easily pass. He opened his mouth to say “yes,” but Odin nodded in disappointment.
“Ever made the hard choices? The life and death ones? Or have you waited for others to make them for you?”
“I…no,” Thomas said as he quickly examined his time in Guardians Inc. He couldn’t really say that he had been the decision maker of his team. Much less about life and death.
“Have you ever slayed a dragon?”
“No,” Thomas answered. At least this time he could say something
without double guessing himself.
“Rescued a damsel in distress?”
“No, I haven't.” Thomas looked down as Odin walked around him.
“Sacrifice yourself for others? Fought a desperate battle against incredible odds?” Odin continued.
“I was in Ormagra, Lord Odin,” Thomas said softly. That had been the largest battle he'd been in and because of him the Wraith had been defeated.
Odin laughed. “Ah yes, Ormagra...” he said. “You were there with an army in front of you and the wielder of the Aesculapius Cane by your side. I'm sorry, but those aren't bad odds at all. No, Thomas Byrne, you're no hero, even though you walk among heroes, the golems, the Doctor, your beautiful sorceress, and that scroungy squire that follows you around. All of them are heroes when you are not.” Odin sat down on his throne.
“We have no love for the Wraith,” Odin continued. “We pushed their Ice Empire twenty thousand years ago from human lands with the help of the Olympians and the others like us. We cared for humanity, we protected you, gave you hope, helped you grow until the Guardians came.” Odin extended a hand toward Frigg. “Then it was us who were pushed away. Like old, useless relatives left to die by the mountainside.”
Lady Frigg sent Thomas a knowing gaze that meant for him to just be quiet, and Thomas obeyed.
“During those times I dreamt of a sword...my most precious gift. A blade that could help stave off Ragnarok. One that would become our hand in Midgard. Each of the Aesir and the Vanir would bestow a gift on its blade, all our powers at the disposal of a champion, a human hero to surpass all other heroes before him. This hero and I, we would each bring our most valuable treasures, our most precious gifts to this Hall and then...” Odin said softly, “this great hero and I would exchange them. He would receive the sword and I...”
Odin paused and looked at Frigg. He looked at Thomas and drew a long, deep breath. “You, Thomas Byrne,” he said, “are not that hero. You’re not a great leader of men, or a selfless warrior, and you didn’t bring your greatest treasure to exchange with me.” Odin centered his gaze on him. “But you still somehow managed to come here, and that takes some measure of valor.” Odin hunched his shoulders. “And we'll still help you. Won't we, my lady?”
Frigg nodded, and she opened a chest by the side of her throne and pulled out a small wooden box. Odin grabbed the box and motioned for Thomas to come closer. “Here,” he said. “This will help you.”
Thomas approached the throne and took the object in Odin’s hand. It was a rod, a cylinder of granite about eight inches long and at least an inch and a half thick. It felt cold and rough and heavy.
“This doesn't look like much,” Odin said, “but you'll need it in the days ahead.”
“What is it?” Thomas asked. The rod was just a piece of smooth granite.
“What you came for. Your grandfather will not be able to track you now,” Odin said. “This will conceal your presence to him as long as you have it.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. It wasn't what he had expected, but at least he could now move without with his grandfather following him.
“Always keep it with you,” Lady Frigg said. “It will bring you luck and some protection.”
“Um...thank you,” Thomas said, passing the rod from one hand to the other. From the corner of his eye he could see Ratatosk stifling a laugh.
“Well, now you can go,” Odin clapped. “Ratatosk!” he said and the squirrel jumped.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Take Thomas Byrne back to Midgard and stay with him until Verðandi deems fit or either of you dies. If the latter happens, bring that rod back to me. I don’t want any more Aesir artifacts left behind in Midgard.”
Ratatosk moaned, “Must I, my lord?” he asked. “I have more important things to do than watch over this—”
“Do as I command! And be careful of what you say or you'll think of your last punishment as a party in comparison to the one you'll get!” Odin yelled and thunder once again rang throughout the throne room. Ratatosk dug his claws deeply into Thomas’s shoulder. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, my lord!” Ratatosk said, cowering behind Thomas's neck.
“Now, go,” Odin dismissed him. “You've lost enough time already.”
“Wait!” Lady Frigg stood from her throne and called Ratatosk to her side. The squirrel did a quick trek, and Lady Frigg picked him up and murmured something in his ear. Ratatosk glanced at Thomas, then nodded at Frigg. He ran back and perched over Thomas’s shoulder.
“Let's go,” Ratatosk said.
Return to Midgard
The way back to the Norns halls had been longer and less exciting. Ratatosk took Thomas through a bridge over the Halls of Valhalla, many of the Vikings were still chanting, “Raven! Raven!” while most had returned to their raucous party. Wasted drunkards, chants, and fights abounded. When Thomas asked Ratatosk why they hadn't cross over the Halls using the bridge in the first place Ratatosk had simply hunched his shoulders.
“I wanted to see what happened,” Ratatosk told him.
The squirrel was just plain rude and annoying sometimes.
About halfway through the bridge, Thomas looked up and saw another bridge about fifty feet away, many of the Aesir he had seen in the Throne Room were going back to Odin. Some glanced at him as they walked, and Thomas froze as he saw the girl who had hugged him. She was leaning on a rail, looking directly at him.
She looked sad, her eyes watery.
Thomas stopped by the railing, but Ratatosk muttered, “Not a good idea.” Thomas lifted a hand to say goodbye when he saw something fluttering about the girl's neck.
It looked like a wasp.
A huge wasp, at least as big as a sparrow.
“Hey!” Thomas yelled, trying to warn the girl as the wasp landed on her neck, but instead of being alarmed, the girl held the wasp in her hands and spoke to it. Then she looked at Thomas and released the wasp into the air.
The wasp flew toward Thomas. It was a little larger than a sparrow. Ratatosk jumped down from his shoulder and ran away, but Thomas stood frozen as the wasp fluttered in front and around him, checking him out from all sides.
He'd seen smaller wasps like these before in Ohio. It wasn't a yellow jacket; it was more slender. Its body was jet black with orange legs, huge eyes, and translucent multicolored wings. It hovered in front of Thomas.
Thomas glanced at the girl, and she motioned for him to lift his arm up.
Thomas lifted his hand and the wasp landed on his arm. It walked up his arm and on his shoulder while the girl smiled. He had to admit that it was a beautiful animal as the wasp moved toward his hand. He was about to say something to the girl when a sharp pain ran up his arm.
He pulled back his hand with a scream.
The wasp flew from his hand, and when he looked down, he noticed a large blood mark between his thumb and the other fingers.
It burned, and as he turned his hand over, a rivulet of blood ran over his palm. The wasp’s stinger had gone right through his hand, and both sides showed a hole the size of a small button.
“Hey!” Thomas yelled, looking up toward the girl. “Why did you do that?”
But the girl was gone.
“I told you it was a bad idea.” Ratatosk approached him now that the wasp was gone too. “Let me see.”
Thomas extended his hand, and Ratatosk rattled his teeth in disgust. “Uhhh,” he said. “Put it away! It's nasty!”
“Aren't you going to help?”
“How?” Ratatosk shivered again. “Put it away!”
Thomas wondered if he would get really sick from the wasp's venom as it burned up to his forearm.
“Why would she do that?” Thomas asked. “Who was she?”
“Don't know. Can't tell you. You asked for it,” Ratatosk said. “Let's go.”
“Why can't you tell me?” The burning stopped spreading through Thomas’s arm, but the pain remained and his hand began to swell. “Just her name.”
; “You heard Lord Odin. Not a word,” Ratatosk said. “I'm here to watch over you, just that, nothing more. Now let's go! Besides...” Ratatosk glanced at the sting on Thomas’s hand, “I don't think she likes you.”
“She hugged me,” Thomas said.
“And that means instant love...” Ratatosk mocked him, joining his hands and batting his eyelashes.
Thomas sighed—the squirrel was right; there was no reason for him to believe anything more. One minute the girl was hugging him, and in the next minute, when no one was looking, she’d ordered the wasp to attack him.
“Can we go now?” Ratatosk turned around and walked away.
***
The door to the Nornir chamber opened as they approached, and the three Norns were still transfixed at their fountain. The one-way mirror gate that had brought them into the Norn's chambers from Earth was still open.
The Norn on the right nodded for Thomas to approach them, while the other two turned their backs to him. The Norn held an amulet on a chain, and after immersing it in the water she handed it to Thomas and motioned for him to put it around his neck.
Thomas checked the amulet—it was golden, a five-point star with the center heavily tilted to one side, and three of the points were way longer than the other two.
“Thank you,” he said, but the Norn didn't acknowledge him. She turned around and the Norn on the far left turned around to face him. She picked up a handful of sand, and she allowed it to run through her fingers while extending it for Thomas. When he extended his hand, she waited as the sand ran out from her hand. She opened her hand over Thomas’s palm, and very little sand fell on top of it.
The Norn turned around.
“Move it,” Ratatosk whispered.
Thomas walked toward the mirrored gate and threw the sand at it. The reflective surface shimmered as the grains touched it. With one last glance at the Norns, he walked through the mirrored gate.
Distortions
Guardians Inc.:Thundersword (Guardians Incorporated #2) Page 25
