Undraland

by Mary E. Twomey

Ten.

  A Gift from Helsa

  I thought I was good with weird. I’d seen enough in my travels, but this was a new thing entirely. “You’re a Nøkken, and your name is Nik? Nik the Nøkken? That’s cute.”

  Jens rolled his eyes as he drank the homebrewed “Gar” Nik brought. “Actually, it’s as common as Nick is in your world.”

  “Oh.” Why did Jens have to make me sound like an idiot in front of the model from the Swedish Alps? Nik was tall, like the rest of them, young thirties with a charming smile I am not ashamed to admit I found attractive. It’s like once I got my eyesight back in the comfort of the cabin, my eyes only wanted candy. Yum. The only thing weird about Nik that I couldn’t reconcile was his hair. It was a bluish white, styled like a Disney prince, and had a brush of iridescent sparkles throughout. He stood with perfect posture and his chest puffed out, his movements slow and graceful. A young Baryshnikov with a roguish smile.

  “And you’re a human?” Nik asked, stirring the tea Britta brought him that he poured a little Gar into.

  “Yup. Since I was born.”

  He eyed my hair with admiration as he sipped his beverage. “Wow. Blonde hair. So pretty. Are you all guldies?”

  “Come again?”

  Jens was not thrilled with Nik being nice to me. “It’s slang for golden hair. You’ll be the only blonde in Undraland, so get used to people staring.”

  Nik’s eyes were dancing with excitement at being able to interview the odd creature that apparently I was. “So, you have a typewriter?”

  “Um, I have a computer. Had.” I jerked my thumb in Jens’s direction. “He torched it.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jens grumbled, toasting me with a sour expression.

  “I don’t remember thanking you for that.”

  “And I forgive you.” Jens took another drink. “It’s getting crowded in here. Pets outside.” He shoved me toward the door, passed Uncle Rick and Britta, who were in quiet cahoots over a jagged knife I recoiled from.

  Oh, I wanted to smack Jens. Martin Luther King, Jr. would’ve been very disappointed in the mental images I was entertaining. His personality went hot and cold in an instant. I couldn’t even have a conversation without it turning bitter because of him. I was grateful he’d been invisible all those years he was protecting us. Jerk. “I’ll miss you and your hospitality so much. Really. Thanks for bringing me here only to throw me out.” I blew him a spiteful kiss he blanched at, and turned to exit the hut.

  I ran smack into the most enormous and terrifying man I’d ever seen. Easily seven feet tall, Mediterranean tint to his skin, horizontal lines tattooed up his forearms like rungs of angry ladders and an expression that tolerated zero irritations, which I quickly sensed I might be to him. He looked kind of like The Rock to me, but without that adorable charm that makes you want to just pinch his cheeks. The charm was replaced with an unhealthy dose of loathing.

  In response to me running into him, he shoved me.

  Jamie postured, but no one said anything.

  Nik stood. “Foss was brought in on this? Really? I don’t know how I feel about this, Jens.”

  The angry newcomer slid his quiver full of arrows off his shoulders and dumped it in my hands without so much as a second look. “Sharpen these, rat.” He had a gold ring on his finger with a ruby so giant, I had to look twice.

  I raised my eyebrow to Jens, who took the quiver from me and sent me out the door before I could address his rudeness.

  The sun was growing less painful as it neared early evening, so I could make out almost two feet in front of me if I squinted. I sat in the dirt and leaned against the hut, irritated I’d been cast out from the grownup table like a child.

  About half an hour later, a gaggle of girls around my age or a year or two younger came giggling up to the house. When they saw me, they stopped short, ending their feud over which feature of Jens was their favorite.

  “That’s her!” One of them said, pointing at me. “You’re the human female that belongs to Jens, right?”

  Great. Now that’s my title. “Lucy,” I said, standing to offer my hand to them.

  My limited field of vision kept me in the dark as to their predetermined disdain for me. While the farmer guys seemed awed by the sight of a human, all these girls saw was competition. I would recognize that look anywhere, no matter what world I was in. It was the universal hatred for anyone with bigger boobs that’s standing in the vicinity of the man you want.

  Super.

  “Lucy? I’m Helsa, and this is Kerena, Inga and Siri.”

  “Hey.”

  Helsa did not look too pleased with me. They were holding baskets of homemade food and a pitcher of water for their returning hero. “Well, I don’t know if you heard, but Jens is already spoken for.”

  I shrugged. “Have at him. He was only assigned to my family. I have a boyfriend back home.” This seemed to mollify a couple of them. I fished around for a name. “His name is…Vin. Vin Diesel.”

  Darn you, Tonya.

  Their leader was a foot taller than me, easy. Everyone in this world was far taller than me. “Jens and the princess are together, so don’t get any ideas, human.”

  Their princess is slumming it with that jerk? What is this kingdom coming to?

  The redhead piped in, “Yeah. Everyone saw the way you were hanging on him.”

  Come on. No matter where I go, into my life, a little Helsa always falls. “You mean when I was literally hanging on him because I can’t deal with your sun? He was just getting me out of everyone’s hair.”

  “Are you a dwarf? I swear, I’ve never seen a full-grown woman so short. Unless the rumors are wrong. You’re marrying age, right?”

  Red light! “Um, no. I’m twenty. And where I come from, I fit in just fine at this height.” So long as there aren’t any supermodels around.

  Helsa looked up at the pinkening sky curiously. “Oh, my. It looks like it’s going to rain soon.” Then she took the pitcher and dumped its contents over my head.

  Martin Luther King. Martin Luther King.

  I stood there, soaking wet, searching for the remnants of my kindness, which had gone missing at their arrival. “You know, if you wanted a crack at Jens, he’s wide open. Trust me, I’m not the reason he won’t look your way.”

  Yeah, I provoked them that time. Helsa pushed me square in the chest, knocking me down.

  “Now, ladies,” a gravelly accented voice of a man interrupted the mean girls’ showdown. “Ya don’t have to fight over me. There’s plenty of me ta go around. Plenty. I don’t care what ya’ve heard. Dwarves got plenty.”

  The girls placed their gifts for Jens in front of the door and scattered at the presence of an actual adult.

  “What’re ya doing there on the ground, female?” A hand with thick red hair on the back extended itself to me, and I found myself being lifted off the ground by a very short man. He looked me up and down, as if appraising me as an ally. I was about six inches taller than him, but his wild red hair was so wiry, it stuck up almost to my height. “You’re Alrik’s human female, aye?”

  “I guess I am.” I extended my hand to greet him, but he continued sizing me up with a squinty eye. “And you are...”

  “Tor. I hear humans are lazy, and here I find ya sitting on the ground outside the most important meeting of century.”

  I frowned, not liking his tone. “I’ve been banished. Circus freaks outside, VIPs inside.” I nodded to the door. “Knock yourself out.”

  A melodic laugh flowed toward us from inside. The dwarf cringed. “Nøkkens. I can’t believe it’s come ta this.” He shook his head at me, as if I should be just as upset at the Nøkken coming as he was.

  “Humans, Nøkkens and dwarves. Oh, my!” I pulled my humor from The Wizard of Oz, but upon the dwarf’s distrustful evaluation of my intelligence, I shut my mouth. I was dripping where I stood and wished for a towel. Actually, if I was wishing for things, I’d genie myself out of here.

  I would al
so like a puppy.

  “Get inside, female. Ya’ve got every right ta be here. Humans should be just as outraged as we are about Pesta.” He made his opinion of her perfectly clear by spitting on the grass a thick, green globule. “Represent yer race with honor.”

  “Alright.” Sure. Kick me out. Scold me for obeying. Dump water on me. I don’t care. Whatever gets me out of here fastest. Maybe my new place can have a dishwasher. Wherever I land, I’ll be sure to get it sprayed for garden gnomes after this.

  When I entered with Tor, Uncle Rick quieted the men in the cramped space. Boy, did the cabin smell like man feet. Gross. “Lucy, have you been playing in the water, dear?” my uncle asked me.

  “No,” I grumbled, shooting Jens the evil eye as the room quieted at the sight of a sopping wet woman. “Just the welcome wagon for Jens. Might want to spread it around that I’m leaving soon, and I won’t be sticking around to win whatever lump of coal passes for your heart.”

  Jens grimaced. “Sorry about that. Was it Olina?”

  “No.”

  “Saga?”

  “No. Sheesh! How many delusional women do you know? It was Helsa and her cronies. The sooner you send me back, the better.”

  Jens softened, handing me my green backpack. “Change of clothes in here. But Lucy,” he began, and then stopped. The look in his eyes made me pause.

  “What?”

  Uncle Rick stepped in and delivered the blow for him. “You’re not going back just yet.”

  “Fine. I can wait until tomorrow. You’re having your meeting. I’ll go back outside.” Seven sets of eyes stared at me, observing the human in her new habitat. Nik, who was sitting down, had risen to acknowledge my presence.

  “Go change,” Uncle Rick ordered. “I’d like you to join us when you’re ready.”