by J. J. Neeson
Taking it all in, absorbing the warmth into her soul, she felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. With no destination in mind and no rush to get anywhere, she set the oars down, allowing the boat to drift in the middle of the river. Her mind pleasantly wandered, unrestricted, occupied with thoughts of rock stars and women’s rights.
And then it happened.
In front of her, a light shimmered, and the woman of the rune appeared, sitting across from her on the boat, gentle and uncommanding. She wore a rather modest woolen dress in a rustic orange that brought out the green of her eyes.
“You’re back,” Reigh gasped. “I have so much I want to ask you.”
The woman spoke, but the language was not one she knew. Instinctually, Reigh snapped her fingers, and the words translated clearly in her mind.
“You may ask, but I may not have the answers you seek.”
Reigh embraced the lyrical tone of the woman’s voice. “You’ve been watching over me for a long time, guiding me with the rune, but I don’t know who you are.”
“I’m Lofn,” she introduced. “Of Asgard.”
The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Asgard. Does that make you a goddess?”
She laughed as light as the air. “I am what you call a goddess, yes, but I am not regal. In my world, I am but a handmaiden, a servant to those above me.”
Reigh didn’t think it possible. With her honey-colored hair and eternal youth, Lofn was the essence of the divine, but it was easier to relate to a handmaiden than it was a god, someone in the lower tiers of power and wealth, much like she was.
“I’ve heard of you!” she exclaimed, remembering where from. “Do you know that you’re in comic books? I used to steal them from my neighbor Jimmy when I was little.”
Lofn laughed again. “Yes, as is many of my brethren.”
She was completely enthralled with the woman. Her presence was comforting, evoking the same peace she felt when the rune appeared. “Why?” she asked. “Why have you been watching over me?”
“Because you are of Norse blood,” the woman explained. “Long ago, during a time of invasion and settlement amongst humans, conflict between the gods caused a mass exodus of my people to your northern lands. Within a glacial fjord was the rainbow bridge that connected your world to Asgard, and therefore the rest of the Yggdrasil tree. But the bridge was destroyed as punishment for the exodus. Temporarily confined to Midgard, gods shared their beds with humans; some even married. The bloodlines were mixed. Since then, many gods have returned home, but they remember the children left behind, and so we watch over you. Upon your birth, I was elected as your guardian, a duty I carry out with pride.”
“Pride is a bit strong, considering my choices in life so far. I’m pretty imperfect.”
“There is no scale of perfection,” Lofn told her. “There is only life. You are young. You will continue to make mistakes. And you will continue to grow. I judge by your heart. Your heart is in the right place, most of the time.”
Not sure that she agreed, Reigh looked away, running her hand along the surface of the water, but she didn’t fixate on it. “How did the gods return if the bridge was destroyed?”
“The bridge was mostly for your benefit. Gods can travel more readily than humans can. And now that your world is on the onset of an awakening, it’s even easier for us to travel, as if the partitions are thinning. I regret humans don’t benefit, due to the nature of your physicality.”
“But we can travel?” Reigh checked.
“Accompanied by the being of the world you are entering, yes. But you have to be willing.”
So Lu was right. It made her wonder what else she had been right about.
“And coming back home? Is it possible?”
There was a knowing upon the goddess, laced with compassion. “You speak of Calder,” she said. “He wants you to join him in Jotunheim. You can return here, back to your world, but Calder would have to bring you back.”
“He would. I know he would.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t believe how you come back is the issue. It’s if you’ll want to. Calder is not a god. And he is not an elf—those who influence the light and dark of nature in all the nine worlds. He does not travel well. Not all giants do. It is why Calder cannot stay here with you.”
Reigh knew what Lofn was building up to, but she was not sure she wanted to hear it.
“If you two are to be, you would have to stay in Jotunheim with him. It is the only way your love could work. As the goddess of forbidden love, I can assure your safekeeping in Jotunheim, if it’s what you choose. My foresight is limited. I can see what’s best for you, but I do not know your heart, nor can I see your future.”
“Neither can I,” Reigh admitted. “I am lost.”
“You are confused, unable to distinguish your heart from your mind, but you will. There’s time,” she counseled.
Reigh sat straighter, more hopeful. “There is time,” she acknowledged. “Thanks. The rune thing is pretty cool.”
“Watching over you is my pleasure and my joy. I will do my best to keep you safe, Reigh, and to help you realize your potential, but I cannot always be by your side. Protect yourself, especially against that which threatens your friends.”
“Who is he?” Reigh asked, desperate to do what she could to help Mrs. Florence and Lu. “Do you know?”
Lofn remained kind, but a stiffness invaded that kindness. “I cannot say.”
Reigh did not know whether to interpret that as could not or would not, but she knew better than to press. Lofn had done so much for her already.
Despite the peace that surrounded her, she was suddenly hit with fatigue.
“I have exhausted you,” Lofn noticed. “It is a side effect of me being here. I have to partially draw on your energy. It has been lovely, Reigh. Stay safe. And know that where there is love and peace, you can find me.”
She didn’t want the goddess to leave, but it was inevitable. She prepared to say her goodbyes, but before she could, the woman of the rune was gone.
“Bye,” she murmured anyway, alone in the boat once more.
***
There were more claw marks on the door of the shack, but they didn’t look malicious. Not like an unknown threat trying to scare her. More like a creature frantic to get in. Reigh paid them little heed, knowing not all marks upon the world were magic. Sometimes, a possum looking for food was just a possum looking for food.
She felt good. Really good. Now, she had clarity. The woman of the rune was her guardian. It made her life a little less lonely. And so did Lu. And her Romani neighbors. And the pottery circle. And Thorston. Especially Thorston, even though his company was not the type to be dependent on.
It all made her certain of one thing: she would not be joining Calder in Jotunheim. Broken Ridge was her home. It was where she belonged. She was taking Lu’s advice. She was choosing herself. At least for now. There was time.
Humming to Bob Dylan, happy with her decision, Reigh put the amulet around her neck then took a frozen pizza out of the icy shelf of the mini-fridge and popped it in the oven. When it finished cooking, she ate it outside on the porch with a beer, feeling light enough to fly, like the gulls she had seen soaring over the Gulf.
It would not be easy to tell Calder. It meant the time they spent together was restricted, but they had managed for a decade. They’d continue to manage.
Where the hell did he get all the stuff he donated to the thrift store in Vegas? she wondered, stuffing a slice of pizza into her mouth. Did he steal it?
She thought back to the years they’d been friends, searching for a clue that he had given her regarding who he truly was. There was nothing. In those days, she was just a girl. And he was just a boy. And they were just friends.
One conversation stuck in her mind, but not because it was an indication of things to come. It stood out because of how normal it was. They’d been sitting on the balcony of her apartment in Vegas, their legs stuck th
rough the rigid panels of the safety guard, swinging in the open air. The day was bleached and lazy. Hopeless. They hadn’t known each other long, maybe a year of his coming and going, but she was glad Calder was there. He’d given the day and its hopelessness some promise.
“Oh yeah, I got us something,” he said with his boyhood awkwardness, taking a pair of tickets out of the pocket of his flannel. He handed them to her.
“Leonard Cohen!” she cried. “Bad-ass! How did you score these?”
He seemed puzzled. “I bought them.”
“But they must have been expensive.”
Shrugging, he answered, “Money is just money. I knew you’d be excited.”
Howling like a coyote, she hugged the tickets to her chest. “This is so awesome. I can’t believe you did this. Thanks. You’re a cool guy, Calder. A bit of a nerd. But cool.”
He smiled shyly, pleased. “It’s a few months off, so don’t lose them.”
“Like that would happen. My ears can’t take any more of the crap on the radio. I mean, it’s not even real music. It’s all fake, just computers. Say what you will about classic rock, at least they played their own instruments. They didn’t have some computer doing it for them. There’s nothing like it in the charts anymore. Music is dead.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “That’s the beauty of recorded music. It lasts forever.” He set his head against the guard of the balcony, contemplative. “A thousand years from now, when this town is nothing but piles of wreckage, Leonard Cohen will still be playing on the radio. It doesn’t matter what malformation of music is released between now and then, he’ll still be there.”
She grinned at him, fascinated. “And what music do you like, Calder?”
“What do you think?”
“I take you for a grunge kind of guy.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m more classical. I like listening to the piano.”
“Do you play?”
“Nope. I just listen.”
Reigh looked out onto the courtyard of the apartment complex. Below, kids splashed around in the swimming pool. Their parents were idiots to let them do so. Something green was starting to grow on the sides. “Me neither. I can’t sing. I can’t play. I just listen.”
The conversation had continued on, but she didn’t remember any of it. She remembered the concert. They had gone together, and it was just as good as she had imagined it would be. Leonard Cohen was a legend. But the rest of their conversation that day faded into the many memories they shared.
I miss him, she thought.
She always looked forward to his visits, but now that she knew his truth, she was even more eager to see him. She had so many questions she wanted to ask; there was so much about him she did not know. It would be nice just to sit and talk, like they had so many times before. She’d even treat him to blueberry pancakes at the bistro, certain they would taste much better than the pancakes they used to get at the dollar buffet.
Amongst all her questions, there was one thing she already knew when it came to Calder—he was not happy in Jotunheim. She understood. Jotunheim was his Vegas, a place from which he wished to escape. A place he felt lonely and isolated. If there was a way she could help him remain longer here, then she would. She would ask around, but she was not sure anyone in Broken Ridge had that type of power.
Power. She needed more of it. That’s what Mama Blanchet had decided, after hearing what Calder had said about the threat having plenty of his own. Not only was Reigh allowed to practice magic again, along with the rest of the town, but she was ordered to. She had to practice summoning a storm so they could exile the threat, send him back the way he came.
Feeling light despite her heavy thoughts, she waved her hand in the air, trying to make it rain. When it didn’t work, she tried again. She didn’t stop trying, even as Thorston pulled up on his motorcycle.
“You swatting invisible mosquitos again?” he asked, tucking his torn leather gloves into his muddy jeans, causing the muscles of his arms to bulge in a way that made it impossible to look away. “I told you, Eva made sure this place stayed mosquito free for good.”
“I’m not swatting mosquitos,” she said dryly. “I’m trying to make it rain. We could use a little cool down.”
“I’ll make it rain,” he offered, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned against his bike and folded his arms. “I’ll make it rain for you.”
“You don’t practice magic.”
“I could.”
Without moving, his eyes locked onto hers, and the bright blue sky above them turned grey and troubled. Thick drops of rain began to fall, and the sky rumbled with the warning of a coming storm. The thunderbird had woken.
Reigh was impressed, but she held a hand up. “Don’t. You shouldn’t change who you are.”
Instantly, the sky cheered, returning to an endless blue, no trace of the summoning except for the wet droplets covering the land, which would soon evaporate in the heat.
He sat next to her on the porch. “I know it’s not fair on you for me to continue sleeping on your couch, not after what happened between us,” he said. “I should go. I know I won’t stay. But I can’t seem to leave.”
Reigh didn’t respond. She didn’t know how to, not when her body pulled her one way while her mind went another. Having Thorston so close, his shoulder touching hers, it set her skin on fire. All she wanted to do was kiss him, but she was afraid Calder would see.
That was, until she remembered that she wore the amulet of the tree that Lu had given her. She had her privacy. She could do whatever the hell she wanted. And what she wanted was Thorston.
She took a sip of her beer then set it and the pizza aside. “Hey, remember what I said about keeping your distance while you’re here?” she asked, her voice turning sultry. She couldn’t summon a storm, but she could burn a man with her desire. “Forget it.”
He studied her. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Why? You suddenly a Southern gentleman?”
“No. I just want to know how guilty I should feel in the morning.”
Pulling her close, he thrust his lips onto hers, his touch scorching her as he inched his hand up her tank top, caressing her skin. When their kiss wasn’t enough, neither of them fed, he lifted her up into his arms and carried her into the shack. Reigh rested her head against his chest, embracing the sense of safety she felt, not wanting him to let her go.
When he did set her down, it was on top of the bed. “I’m definitely no gentleman,” he boded, tugging down the straps of her top, leaving her shoulders bare as his lips pressed against them before they found her neck.
“That’s fine by me,” she said, breathless. “I’m not looking for gentle tonight.”
***
Rolling over in bed, waking from a troubled sleep, Reigh reached out, but Thorston was not there. The sheets next to her were empty.
She opened her eyes to a dark room. Night had come. Within the night, a soft glow came from outside, as did a pitter patter against the roof. Wrapping the quilt around her naked body, she went out to the porch. Thorston stood against the rail, looking out across the bayou, where rain poured down like a thick veil. The pitter patter.
To her dismay, he was fully dressed, his silhouette illuminated by the fairy lights she had put up. Kept dry by the porch roof, she joined him. “You do this?” she asked, stretching a hand into the rain.
“I had to,” he said. “The Northern Lights were back. I had to block them out.”
Still within her peace, she faced him and took his hand. “I’m not going anywhere,” she told him. “I can’t promise I’ll wait for you every time you take off, but for now, I’m here.”
Chapter Twelve
Dressed in his usual cashmere sweater and slacks and wearing glasses that only added to his attractiveness, Kaylock sat at the front desk of the library with a tattered copy of 1984 by George Orwell in his hand.
“You have a test at school tomorrow?” Reigh teas
ed, setting the Norse encyclopedia down in front of him.
He read a few more lines before looking up. “Enlightenment is never something to joke about,” he said, friendly despite his reluctance to stop reading. “You’re returning the encyclopedia already? You haven’t had it long.”
“I’ve had it long enough.”
“There’s a ton of knowledge in that book.”
“I know. I had to carry it,” she said, stretching her sore arms.
He set his own book down. “I mean knowledge about your ancestors and where your power comes from.”
“My power comes from me.”
“But your ancestors are who you are. You carry their DNA.”
“But I carry my own soul,” she stated, tired of thinking about the past. She wanted to create her own future.
He accepted her response. “Okay, but the encyclopedia is here if you ever need it again. We don’t have many Norse folk in Broken Ridge. Only Thorston.”
“It’s the heat. We’re used to the cold,” she conceived, pushing the encyclopedia closer to him.
“You grew up in Las Vegas.”
“I was trying to be poetic.”
He was pleased. “So you’re a member of the literati after all.”
She pushed the encyclopedia even closer. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Don’t try to be so hardheaded, Reigh. I know you’re really a softy at heart.”
“You have me confused with Lu,” she said, enjoying the banter. “I’m all spikes and poison.”
He laughed heartily. “No, you’re really not. Spikes and poison don’t volunteer at community centers.”
She’d forgotten she’d told him about that. “Yeah, well, don’t let my haters know that. I like to keep it tough.”
Again, he laughed, so loud she was almost insulted. “Seriously,” he said between chuckles. “It’s like listening to a butterfly roar.”
She pulled a face of distaste. “While you’re being so brutally honest, I need your advice,” she said, tapping her hand against the desk.
