Bauldr's Tears

by Alydia Rackham

  In a moment, several of the women emerged completely and hurried up to the other side of the bier, surrounding him. In hushed, hurried tones, they began asking questions of the huntsmen, and touching Bird all across his head, neck, chest and shoulders. Marina stepped forward to listen…

  A strange scent rose up within her and filled her nose.

  She stopped. Pressed a hand to her chest.

  The scent of metal. Hot metal.

  From inside her.

  And then, something soft and small materialized on her tongue. Something that grew, and hardened, and pressed against the roof of her mouth like a…

  Like a stone.

  Her eyes went wide.

  She opened her mouth, reached in and pulled it out…

  A brilliant golden jewel lay there in her palm.

  Her throat locked shut. But just as she was about to let out a yelp—

  The smell of frost, and cooking sugar overwhelmed her. An object swelled on her tongue and nearly cut her gums…

  She pulled it out.

  A silvery, laughing jewel that caught every scrap of light in the room.

  Marina stepped back, ducking down beside the horse’s flank, her heart crashing wildly against her ribs as yet another scent flooded her head.

  Windswept summer rain—followed by the scorch of a forest fire.

  And she pulled out a deep sapphire stone that swarmed with storms inside.

  Before she could process the wondrous shiver that shot through her at the sight of the flashing gems in her hand, yet another smell rose up.

  Cinnamon, honey, and sweet cream.

  She withdrew a vibrant ruby—one that she remembered down to each facet. Tears began filling her eyes…

  Just as the luster of an autumn wind, and the deliciously-stinging taste of peppermint washed through her mouth.

  She closed her eyes as this warm jewel pressed against her tongue, filling her body with pleasant heat and her mind with light. Slowly, she reached up and drew it out between her lips…

  Her lips burned at the touch of it—a laugh rang through her head…

  She pressed it to her mouth, her eyes still shut, holding her breath, peppermint lingering on her taste…

  The gem grew cold. The peppermint faded.

  She opened her eyes, lowered the stone, and looked at it.

  A deep emerald, faintly winking.

  She set it down beside the blue stone, and gazed through tears at the rainbow in her hand.

  “What do you have?”

  Her head jerked up.

  And her heart nearly stopped.

  Two new figures stood beside the bier, facing her.

  One: a tall, beautiful woman with golden ringlets that hung down to the floor. A circlet of diamonds rested on her head, her eyes—chocolate brown and warm—wide and alight. She wore a light blue dress like the spring sky which trailed on the stones behind her.

  The other: a man, even taller, with long, flowing white hair, and a snowy beard braided with beads, wearing majestic silver clothes embroidered with sapphire, and a cape of dark maroon stitched with white. He also wore a patch over one eye—and the other, the color of winter clouds, pinned Marina where she stood.

  “Your Majesty,” she gasped, trying to incline her head.

  “What do you have?” he repeated—but his low voice carried no bite. In fact, it filled her with gentleness, and her hammering heart calmed.

  She stepped forward, very carefully, and held out her hand to the shaft of sunlight.

  When her palm entered it, and the light struck the stones, they seemed to catch fire. They blazed against her skin, shooting fractured likenesses of themselves across all of the people standing round about.

  Marina lifted her head, and looked up into Odin’s wizened face. He gazed softly down at the stones, and his lips parted.

  “Bauldr’s Tears,” he murmured. “She has found them.”

  “How?” the woman—clearly the queen, Frigga—stepped close and gripped her husband’s harm, desperately searching Marina’s face.

  “We will all find out soon,” Odin replied, touching her hand. “But now, time runs short for our son.”

  Frigga pressed a hand to her mouth and fought back tears.

  “Eir, what can be done?” Odin asked one of the women who stood across from him. She seemed to be the age of Marina’s mother, and had curly, brilliant red hair piled up on her head.

  “Let me see the tears,” she asked, holding out her hand to Marina.

  Marina hesitated, visions of caves, rocks, burnt trees and fireplaces flashing through her mind…

  She carefully tipped them out of her palm, and watched them tumble into Eir’s. Eir then produced a short, pearl-handled knife, stepped up close and pushed Bird’s tunic aside, baring his chest.

  His heart wound stood out against his white skin like a stain. Eir set the stones on his belly, then leaned in and slowly pushed the point of the knife straight down into the wound. Frigga gasped and pressed close to her husband. Eir gently worked the knife blade to the side, creating a larger opening. She withdrew the knife, kept her left-hand fingers within the opening, set the knife down and picked up the golden stone.

  “Bauldr’s tear for his father, Odin All-Father,” she declared—and the gem flashed in recognition. She held it up. “May regrets be purified, sins wiped clean, and fellowship restored.”

  Odin’s tear hummed deeply in reply, and its surface swam. Eir took it between her fingers and pushed it hard down inside Bird’s wound. Then, she picked up the silvery stone.

  “Bauldr’s tear for his mother, Frigga, Queen of Asgard,” she announced. “May regrets be forgotten, words pardoned, and love renewed.”

  She drove this stone inside right behind the other, then picked up the sapphire.

  “Bauldr’s tear for his brother, Thor, Prince of Asgard,” she said. “May fear be washed away, wounds healed, and fellowship revived.” She pressed this stone in as well, deep and firm, then picked up the ruby.

  “Bauldr’s tear for his ally, Marina Feroe of Midgard,” she said, glancing over to meet Marina’s eyes. “May deceptions be clarified, hurts soothed, and joy returned.”

  Marina swallowed as Eir slid that gem inside Bird’s wound. And lastly, she took up the emerald, and gazed into it with furrowed brow, as if reading something in its depths.

  “Bauldr’s tear for his…friend…Loki of…Asgard,” she said—in a slightly-stunned murmur. She drew a deep breath. “May all be forgiven.”

  Frigga, Odin, the huntsmen and the other women all glanced at each other in profound surprise. Eir looked to Odin, hesitating—but he nodded to her. So, she thrust that jewel into the wound as well, then laid both palms down over the opening and leaned her weight upon his chest. Then, she rested her upper body against his, lowered her head and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  She lingered there for just a moment, then lifted just an inch…

  “Lifa,” she whispered into his mouth.

  She rose up, keeping her hands right where they were…

  Light flashed beneath her palms.

  He breathed.

  His chest lifted—air rushed into his lungs.

  Marina slapped a hand over her mouth.

  And he opened his eyes.

  Frigga let out a stifled cry before she too covered her mouth with her hands.

  Bird blinked—his sky blue eyes focused and blinked against the radiant sunlight. He swallowed.

  His left hand lifted up, and gently came to rest on top of Eir’s. His eyebrows drew together, his head slowly tilted to the side…

  He saw Marina.

  Looked directly at her. And the quiet, gentle power in his gaze filled the silence.

  A smile touched his soft lips, and lit the edges of his eyes. He breathed again.

  Impossibly. Beautifully. He breathed.

  His lips parted.

  “Well done, Marina,” he murmured.

  Frigga threw her hands in the air and let o
ut a loud, joyous shout, then flung herself onto her son’s healed chest. He sat up and wrapped his sobbing mother in his strong arms, burying his face in the ocean of her curls.

  Eir clapped her hands together, then pressed them to her beaming mouth, tears flooding her eyes. The other healing women broke into shouts of desperate delight, and took off through the other corridors, happily shrieking like schoolgirls.

  Frigga laughingly relinquished a few inches of her boy, enough so that Odin could come around and envelope him as well, kissing Bird’s head, tears glittering in his beard.

  “We must tell everyone!” Erling declared, hopping toward the door. “I mean—we should—May we tell everyone?”

  “Yes, yes!” Odin laughed, briskly waving him off. “The two of you go—spread the word as fast as you can!”

  “Yes, your majesty!” they both grinned, and pelted noisily back up the corridor, their horses trotting confusedly behind. Marina watched them go, tears dripping from her jaw…

  “Marina?”

  She spun back around—

  Bird was looking at her again, his parents on either side of him—who looked at her, too. She swallowed once more.

  “Yes?” she asked softly.

  “Come here.”

  She hesitated, then cautiously stepped forward.

  “Mother, Father—may I present my dear friend, Marina Feroe,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “The one who has saved my life.”

  “Not alone,” Marina cut in, twisting her hands together. “Loki—” Unexpectedly, her throat closed. She ducked her head, tried to breathe evenly, then looked up at them again. “Loki helped me so much.”

  Frigga and Odin’s eyes flashed—but Bird’s filled with warmth.

  “Loki?” Frigga whispered, closing her fingers around Bird’s tunic. “How?”

  Marina hesitated again, glancing at Bird…

  Who just watched her, and smiled. She took a breath.

  “Hel came to my house, asking for something that Bauldr had left behind. She chased me out into the snow—but I used one of the Wishstones Bauldr gave me to escape…and it took me to where Loki was being held. He told me that, without him, Hel and Fenris would kill me, so I freed him. And together we…” Her heart started pounding again, but she made herself go on. “Together we gathered up all of Bird’s tears from all over Midgard, went into Helheim and got him back, and brought him here to you.”

  Odin and Frigga glanced at each other.

  “But why would Loki help you to do such a thing?” Odin asked.

  “Because,” Marina replied. “It was an accident.”

  “An accident?” Frigga repeated.

  “Yes,” Marina said. “Hel was trying to force him to leave Asgard with her and Fenris—and so she disguised Bird as a dark elf. Loki believed he saw a dark elf trying to enter Thor’s room with a knife. And so he shot it with a mistletoe arrow, hoping to break whatever protective spells the elf had put up. He…” Marina squeezed her hands together so hard it hurt, and her gaze fell upon Bird’s. “He had no idea it was Bird,” she said, more tears tumbling as her lip quivered. “He never…never would have done that to you. Not ever.”

  “Can this be true?” Frigga gasped, blushing crimson as she turned to Odin. “Did we sentence the wrong man to death?”

  “More than the wrong man,” Odin muttered darkly. “Our dearest friend.”

  “It’s true,” Bird said, glancing up at his parents. “But it’s all right in the end, isn’t it?” He reached up and fingered his mother’s collar, smiling encouragingly at her.

  She leaned in and kissed him fervently on the forehead, her tears falling onto his glowing skin.

  “Oh, my dearest boy,” she said brokenly, rocking him back and forth. “Yes!”

  Bird laughed.

  “Well, call that rascal in here, then!” he declared. “Marina, go tell him it’s safe to come in.”

  Marina’s hands clenched so that her knuckles turned white. She didn’t move. Bird’s smile faded.

  “Wait,” he sat up straighter, pulling back from his mother. “Where is he?”

  Marina’s lip trembled and her jaw clenched. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Only shook her head, once.

  Bird’s features changed entirely—shocked sorrow flooded his eyes.

  “Father! Father!” The roaring voice thundered through the corridors outside.

  “Thor!” Odin bellowed back, coming off the bier and standing up to face the door. “Thor, come! We are here!”

  The next moment, Thor burst into the room, Mjollnir gripped in one hand, a bottle of glowing potion in the other. Hair torn and wild, armor dented, cape shredded and limp, burning eyes frantic, blood running down the side of his head.

  He slowed to a trot, then stumbled to a halt, staring at Bird.

  Bird’s brow knotted. He said nothing.

  Just held out his arms.

  Thor dropped Mjollnir.

  It clanged against the stones. He stepped up to the bier, tears spilling down—

  And caught Bird up in a mighty embrace.

  He took a fistful of Bird’s golden curls and swayed back and forth, crushing him close—and Bird hugged him back just as ferociously.

  “You look half dead,” Bird choked. “Where have you been?”

  “To Helheim to find you!” Thor answered raggedly, backing up and pressing his hand to Bird’s head. Tears marked tracks through the ash on his rugged face. He beamed through his weeping. “Look at you!”

  Bird reached up and took hold of Thor’s collar.

  “Where is Loki?”

  The smile fell from Thor’s face, and his brow twisted. He shook his head.

  “He was poisoned. By Hel,” he said, his voice shaking. “And yet he fought her, even as the chamber collapsed all around us. Marina got you out, and I found the potion Hel was making that would have given her the power to overthrow the realms. But Loki, Hel and Fenris all fell into the chasm beside the furnace, and the mountain fell upon them.” Thor squeezed Bird’s shoulders. “I went back inside many times, calling his name. But everything had been crushed.”

  Frigga pressed her fingers to her lips. Odin hung his head.

  Tears of his own trickled down Bird’s cheeks. Thor shook him lightly.

  “He died for you,” he said through his teeth, and nodded. “Our truest friend indeed.”

  Bird nodded as well, then pressed his forehead to Thor’s heart. Thor wrapped him up again, letting his tears trail into his hair.

  “Alskling?”

  A quiet, bright voice rang like a bell through the room. Everyone turned…

  A young woman dressed in rosy pink, with ringlets of soft red curls all undone, paused mid step on the threshold, her vivid green eyes wide.

  Bird stood up off the bier. For half a moment, he hung there, on the edge—

  And then he ran to her.

  She shouted and darted toward him—he caught her up, swung her around and pulled her against his chest—she wrapped her arms around his neck and entwined her fingers through his hair.

  She released a giddy, shattered laugh—he set her down, took her face in his hands and kissed her ravenously. She answered with equal fever as he then wound his arms around her body, and the two of them got lost entirely.

  Thor chuckled—a rumbling sound that shook Marina, who stood watching with empty hands, her own mouth burning.

  Aching with everything in her to taste peppermint again…

  And sinking slowly to the floor, her left palm easily stretched out and open on her lap.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Marina absently touched the petals of one of the soft white flowers wound through her hair, and lifted her eyes to the rafters of Bilskirnir.

  Garlands of pale yellow blossoms wound around all the beams and warp and woof of the mead hall. Tiny lights slowly issued from the each flower’s center, drifting down toward the feasting floor like snowflakes from the sun.

  A hazy afternoon radian
ce showered down from the skylights at the far end of the wooden room, catching in the crystal bowls of punch, sending dancing reflections across the silver and gold goblets standing on the table—a table which overflowed with red and white roses and oak leaves.

  Musicians perched on stools in that far corner, strumming a lively, untamed tune that Marina seemed to remember hearing somewhere before, even as all the royal Aesir, dressed in splendid golds and scarlets, laughed and swirled in the shimmering luster.

  At the heart of their company, Bauldr—resplendent in white and silver—held his new bride, Nanna, in his arms. She looked beautiful, fresh as the dawn, and lovely beyond compare, in a cloud-white dress, with a leafy silver circlet in her fiery hair, her cheeks blushed, her eyes dazzling and her lips red from being kissed, and kissed, and tenderly kissed again.

  Many Aesir twirled and swayed around them, but these two remained in the center of the light, seeing no one but each other. Many other Aesir sat at the long table, eating more of the honeyed boar, venison, fruits and nuts, and drinking all the mead and wine. Marina glimpsed some familiar faces there, such as Sif—who, upon closer watching, had proved to be a gentle, sweet and kindly wife to Thor, and an elegant, but understanding, lady.

  Marina sat at the farthest corner of the table from the dancing, exactly where she had been placed so long ago. Though now, her seat stood lower, so she no longer felt so conspicuous. And once more, Thor sat in his great chair just to her right, eating and drinking quietly, his gaze wandering distantly through the hall, haunted by a quiet sadness.

  Up in the balcony to her left, Odin and Frigga oversaw the dancing, standing arm in arm. And there, upon Odin’s weathered face, Marina could see the same grief reflected, and even deepened.

  Marina herself wore a loose, sleeveless white dress with a low neckline and a ribbon belt. Bird’s silver pendant, which he had given to her ages ago, rested gently against her breastbone. She had never once taken it off.

  That morning, she had watched the wedding ceremony while standing in the company of the royal family, saying nothing all the while. At the feast, she had eaten and drank everything that had been served to her, tasting it all, and watching everyone as if from faraway. Now, she simply gazed and listened, the music and conversation fading to the back of her mind.