Hellbent

by Tina Glasneck

  This was the summer before senior year. Who left college then?

  The clock ticked by and suddenly it was a quarter after the hour and the door opened.

  All heads turned, and in walked heaven. He towered at six feet seven, his business shirt stretched tightly across his shoulders and defined arms, and I feared that if he flexed even a little, that shirt would pop open. “I don’t usually have a thing for redheads, but he’s appealing,” Chi said.

  His hair was a mixture of rust-red, with streaks that resembled that rich Tennessee dirt and curly hair that you could imagine combing your fingers through.

  I was mesmerized by him, enraptured. He walked like a warrior, owning the room and my attention.

  I dared not breathe or to blink. Instead I unabashedly stared straight ahead.

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a stone or gem and stared at it in the light before moving it around the room as if it were a cell phone and he needed a signal.

  “Welcome to Norse Mythology 101,” he said. “I am Professor Mecklenburg’s TA, Björn Crawford, and today we will be speaking about the Norse Pantheon, as well as the runic alphabet that we will be studying.”

  His voice was filled with a rich accent but one that I could not place. It was music to my ears. A song I wished to hear more of.

  “Looks like some people are going to be changing their majors,” Emili said.

  “Can you get pregnant by someone’s voice? I could swear that my ovaries were quivering,” Chi whispered.

  “His voice had that effect on all of us. The guys don’t seem quite as happy, going by all of the sighing,” Emili said.

  All I wanted to do was doodle his name and my own in hearts all over my sheet of paper. I’m sure he said a lot of things I should have been listening to, but to be honest, he was too handsome. Manly handsome. Like a man who could kill a mountain lion, chop down a tree, and give a deep tissue massage, all without breaking a sweat.

  He moved and passed out the syllabi.

  “This course will not be for those who are unwilling to commit. This is not the usual cruise course. We will dig and go places that you might never have known about, including the works of Snorri.”

  “I don’t think Snorri knew a lot of anything,” I heard myself say aloud. I didn’t know where that came from.

  He cast his gaze around the filled auditorium. “You, miss?”

  “Ellisif Johnson, but everyone calls me Sif.”

  “Ms. Johnson? You do not agree with Snorri’s interpretation of the myths?”

  “No,” I said and took a deep breath. “To be honest, Snorri, although he passed down a great amount of information about the Viking culture and the Norse… What we need not forget is that the Norse mythology is more than just what he knew. It was also influenced by the Germanic culture, and Snorri’s interpretation was taken from a Christian viewpoint of a pagan world. Many of his stories were filtered by that.”

  A broad smile lit up Björn’s face. My heart thought it might jump out of my chest, first bursting through my rib cage to rush to his side to say “hi” with a girly giggle. I pushed the nervousness down. I could barely breathe the longer he stared at me. My skin prickled, my stomach somersaulted, and my mouth went dry. His hands were meant to hold someone like me, someone who could appreciate his touch. Oh, baby.

  I’d heard of emotion as thick as smoke that could fill a room and, for a moment, it was almost like I saw that. This desire had appeared as something physical, a smoke or fog, or a simple haze. I blinked and broke the spell.

  “Impressive, and I see you’ve read ahead. You have spent a lot of time with the subject and are correct as to the influence of Snorri. However, although his tales are filled with grand feats and myths, there is still much we can glean from him.”

  Björn’s answer inspired me in what usually seemed like an uninspired existence. Until now, I’d just been working to make ends meet. But now, most of all, I had to find a way to make this dream become my reality.

  The clock’s loud ticking on the hour announced the end of the class and, like that, everyone began to file out. “Although it is Friday, please complete your reading this weekend,” he called after everyone but me.

  Except me. I still sat there and waited to find myself again.

  Chi shook my shoulder, waking me up. “Sif, it’s time to go. Close your mouth. You’re drooling.”

  I picked my face up from the desk and glanced back up front, but instead of hot-stuff Björn, it was elderly Professor Gaines.

  “You really have to stop working those late hours if you can’t stay awake in class. I don’t know how you will pass this semester if you don’t take notes,” Emili said. “Once the lights went off for the overhead projector, you were out.”

  “I’ve been working two jobs. What can you expect?” I said. Between running to class and those two jobs so I could afford to even go to college, I did the best I could and studied in between.

  I could feel my face flaming, and I cast my gaze down to the empty notebook page. I don’t know what else he’d said once I’d answered him. On the white board, I saw an array of scribblings that hadn’t been there before, like I’d zoned out.

  “What did I miss?” I asked.

  “I don’t know why you just don’t get loans like the rest of us. It will make things easier.”

  “I refuse to have a student loan and be paying interest until I’m eighty to pay for my degree. My parents don’t support my choice, so I have to do what I can. I had offers from all over the country but I chose to study at Cascadia University because of this specialization, even though my parents don’t understand my decisions. I do.”

  “Do you blame them, Sif? I mean you are a Scandinavian Studies Major with a specialization in Norse mythology. What are you going to do with that? Work with the FBI to sift out the true Asgardian believers from the white supremacists?”

  “You sound like my snarky sister, Chi.”

  “Now that is the sweetest thing you’ve said all day. Besides, I’m happy to be that sister for you.”

  “So, are you going to tell us what you were dreaming about this time in class? You seem to have the hottest dreams in that auditorium, and I have no idea how.” Emili chimed in. “Old man Gaines sounds like a hoarse sheep.”

  “Have you ever heard a hoarse sheep?” I asked.

  “No, but I’ve heard a hoarse horse, and that was a sound to behold,” Emili said. “He couldn’t neigh. It was like a pushed-down grunt. Almost scared my pa to death. He was wondering what the horse had swallowed and if it had gotten into some strange herb.”

  “Ms. Johnson,” Professor Gaines called my name. “If you have a minute.”

  “Yes sir,” I responded and picked up my notebook and book bag and moved to the front of the room.

  Professor Gaines’ thin white hair was combed over his aged, liver-spotted scalp, and his scathing frown did nothing to make me walk faster to the front. He looked down his hooked nose at me, and I felt like a child and that he was a Grinch.

  “Yes, professor?” I asked.

  “You have such potential, but I feel as though you are wasting it. There are not many students that cross the threshold into the humanities department with your caliber and skill, but you seem unfocused.”

  “I have to work a lot of hours.”

  “Don’t we all? You must find your goal, not your dream. If reaching it isn’t the ultimate pinnacle of your success, and you haven’t written out as to how you might achieve it, then it really isn’t worth having. I fear that you will not take the time this weekend to do just that, since it’s your birthday then.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said and glanced down at my feet.

  “For this reason, I have an opportunity for you.”

  “For me?” I asked. I couldn’t hold back the surprise on my face. I’d always been afraid of him.

  “Yes, the Annual MythoCon is coming to town and I’ve been able to convince the humanities department to have a table the
re. I think it will be a great way to present our program and who better to do that and lead the table than you.”

  “You want me to go to the convention?”

  “Yes, and what’s more, the university will pay you to be there.”

  A broad smile lit up my face. “Where do I sign up?”

  Chapter 9

  Lady Hel

  Lady Hel watched the men in white she’d ordered for the retrieval.

  Anything could be done with a little bit of magic.

  And, if you knew how to use it, it could be all around.

  It was good to know that Sleipnir still cared for the family, Lady Hel thought, as she stared at the object she’d encased in thick glass and warded. It would take great power to open the case, and as far as she knew, no one on Midgard possessed such a power.

  Harley stared upon her and thought of all the reasons why he didn’t need to get involved in the gods’ drama. “Aren’t you concerned about what this all could mean?” he asked.

  “Everything has consequences, Harley,” Hel said. “How far and to what ends should I allow my brother to be unjustly held? He is a prisoner. His entire life has been lived in exile. Can you imagine an existence that keeps you completely alone?”

  The more she thought about it, the more she wished she could change things. It wasn’t enough to simply ask the gods for clemency. After all, it was their maliciousness that had placed her brother in harm’s way.

  “It’s like serving time with them,” she said to Harley. “I haven’t seen my brothers in so long, at least all together, and Jörmungandr, he’s probably completely feral by now. Imagine living your entire life alone and being told that your destiny is to kill everybody. Yep, surely some madness is going to be there.”

  “And that’s why you asked Sleipnir to send you the key?”

  “I asked him to help me. The key he sent is only part of what’s needed. There are two parts to it—one in Asgard, and the spark which was sent down after Ymir’s murder.”

  “And you think this is only part of the key?”

  She stared at the meteorite. Dark gray in color, it looked just like any other pierce of basalt.

  “How do you know that you picked up the right piece?” Harley asked.

  She raised her hand over the stone and warmth radiated, turning the dark gray rock to a deep purple.

  “Now it is time to see what’s inside.” She could hear the skepticism in his voice.

  “Inside of the rock?” Harley asked and peered over her shoulder.

  “The most extraordinary of treasures can appear the most ordinary on the outside. You should know that, dear.”

  “And what can you do with this?”

  “It is only one piece of the puzzle. With the Stone of Embarni in our possession, we will need to recover the other ingredients to find out where Jörmungandr and Fenrir are.”

  Hel unrolled the map of the world onto her large desk. So long ago, everything had been stripped from her to make her the Queen of Helheim. There was so much that Harley didn’t remember about then, them standing together to defeat the enemy and his being struck low.

  They thought that just because she was a woman she couldn’t wield a sword or defend herself. Pain gnawed at her bones as the blood of her kin pooled around her feet.

  She stepped over their bodies and found the soldier who’d done it and his men and then eliminated them piece by piece; but it never eased her heartache.

  “All-seeing eyes of darkness and might, show us our beloved kin.” Her eyes rolled back into her head, and on the map wisps of smoke began to form.

  “We must travel back to the Black Forest where your grave waits,” Hel said, “for it is there that I left your goblet.”

  “What does my goblet have to do with this?” Harley kissed her neck until she smiled.

  “Because it was my most precious thing. With your return, although you are different in appearance, I can right this great wrong.”

  Harley pulled away, and she felt the coldness and quickly turned in his arms. “What we fight against can cause all to be lost to us again.”

  He smiled, and she wished briefly for this moment to never end. “Know that I love you.”

  “And I you.” She took his hand, with their fingers intertwined. She placed the meteorite back inside its glass case. “Tonight, we need to move the Stone of Embarni to the city’s center to begin the ceremony there. The higher we are, the more our magical reach will be.”

  “Of course, dear,” Harley said.

  “Come, there are many stages to this madness.”

  Chapter 10

  Sif

  “You’re going to the con?” Chi asked.

  “No, they are not flying me out to San Francisco. I’m going to the local one, what is it called—MythoCon. They think that by having a student at the table, I might be able to convince other young minds to show up to the university and study Marvel, DC and all of the other big ones. What a birthday gift, right?”

  “I love anything Joss Whedon. If you do man the table, I so want to dress up as Buffy,” Emili said.

  “What better way for us to celebrate Sif’s birthday than to embrace the geekdom,” Chi chortled.

  “Do you think you can convince Graham to dress up like Spike?” Emili asked. Her voice took on that dreamy tone that spoke of her Buffy/Spike fantasy where she was Buffy. I wasn’t sure if Graham was Spike, though.

  Graham was Emili’s boyfriend, and although they’d been together for a long time, she didn’t seem to be any closer to getting him to settle down. Of course, I wasn’t sure that was something that Emili really wanted either.

  “No, but Harley would.”

  “Speaking of him, I haven’t seen him around much,” Chi said.

  Emili shrugged. “Probably because he’s has a girlfriend now. Found true love and all of that crap.”

  “What?” Chi said. “And here I was thinking he was still pining away about me turning him down.”

  “They are super-serious, too. They met a few weeks ago, right before finals, and he’s moved in with her. I think he might even be gearing up to pop the question.”

  “What?” I frowned. Harley never seemed like to be one of those guys who rushed into something like a serious relationship.

  “She’s a lot older, too,” Emili said. “I got to meet her, and she has to be like twenty years older.”

  I looked at Chi and Chi looked at me, and we both burst out laughing.

  “What?” Emili asked.

  “Bow-chicka-wa-wa,” Chi chimed in. “I’m sure it’s love.”

  “Eeww,” Emili said. “He’s my friend. I don’t want to think about him like that.”

  I was never sure about Emili’s feelings for Harley, if they were sisterly, or if she’d actually considered breaking up with Graham to be with Harley. Harley would be a calmer soul for her, but there was also something darker beneath the surface. Something he probably didn’t even know existed.

  “But I will happily come with you tomorrow. I want to see what this woman looks like,” Chi said,

  “Do I detect jealousy at the fact that Harley has found someone?”

  “No, I mean, he’d been chasing after me since Freshman Year.”

  “He’s found love,” Emili said. “We should be happy for him.”

  I wasn’t sure if she meant that she wasn’t happy, or if we’d have to find a way to accept this new Harley, a man who’d found a woman outside of our group.

  “I’d love to chat more about Harley and his new lady friend, but I’m going to be late. I really got to go,” I waved and raced away. Even with the roller skates in the car and my outfit in my bag, I’d still be pushing it to make it there on time.

  I recalled Lady Hel’s offer—money. It would be nice to not have to worry about making ends meet. To be able to focus on the beautiful world around me.

  I looked up into the sky and stared at the sun’s rays, pulled out my amulet of Thor’s Hammer, which I wore tucked in m
y blouse, and kissed it. Today, I would need Thor’s blessing to make this day worthwhile. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and uttered a soft prayer:

  “I’m running out of time, and time I can never catch.” My shoulders sank and the tears I’d been holding back came forth. I pulled the letter from my pocket. The large red words PAST DUE were still visible in the muted light, and I tossed it in the glove compartment with the other ones.

  How far away was Asgard? Which star twinkled just right? Which world were they in? Could I see them from here, or was Asgard another realm?

  Chapter 11

  Sif

  Dodging oncoming traffic and maneuvering through the steady mélange of people, I dipped into the night shadows. Dusting my hands in chalk, I patted them and watched the dust rise and fall like a deflated birthday balloon.

  Time to climb.

  My hands pulled me upward along the edge of the skyscraper, until the details of the slums below disappeared. My breathing was shallow, and there was calm in a mind that didn’t stop thinking. Ever higher, reaching the top of the thirteen-story building, I pumped my arms as they propelled me forward. Yet, my feet silently padded against the rooftop. The top of the building could have been on one of those old suburban magazine covers: it was a cul-de-sac, with rich green grass and proper houses made of brick and mortar.

  I raced across the roof, blending into the shadows as much as I could, until I reached the ledge and flipped over its edge. For a brief moment, I flew and felt freedom.

  Must have been what it was like to be truly free. The fleeting thought drifted across my mind before I could stop it.