by Sumida, Amy
Then I heard the howling again. It was closer, much closer. Within minutes, we heard a scrambling outside the hole and then a light sniffing sound. There was a pause in which we all held our breaths, and then the unmistakable sounds of a giant animal departing. We all exhaled our relief.
We stayed in the hole for a little while longer, just to be sure the beast was gone, then Azrael climbed out to go have a look. He came back quickly and motioned us out. We emerged into a slightly different landscape. Not that a lot of icy rocks and mountains weren't hard to mistake for each other but I was pretty certain there were different formations outside of our particular hill before we went and hid in it.
“Is it just me or has the land changed?” I asked as it became apparent that the men were confused too.
“It's changed,”Azrael shook out his wings and shot into the sky. He came back down in moments and looked irritated. “Somehow, she's altered our surroundings. We are now about three miles off course.”
“Right,” Trevor shook his head. “It's because we went into that rock. Once inside a construct of hers, we're subject to her influence.”
“That's bizarre,” I looked around in disbelief.
“Well, this is her territory,” Azrael starting walking and we followed. “It's kind of comforting though. Setting us off course is a minor irritation compared to what she could have done.”
“Yes, I think you're right,” Trevor took my hand as he nodded to Az. “I think she's just venting some of her frustration now. She doesn't really want to hurt us.”
“No, just scare us a bit and make us really uncomfortable,” I ground out.
“At least we're on our way out,” Trevor's face came alive with his grin. “I can't wait to get home.”
“Me either,” I squeezed his hand. Then I glanced over to the right. “Um... sooner rather than later.”
Trevor looked over and flinched. “It's Náströnd, the Strand of Corpses. Don't worry, they won't bother us.”
“I think I'm already bothered.” I stared with horror as our path brought us closer and the scene became clearer.
A low keening filled the air, moans and whimpers, all sounds of despair from the dead men who didn't seem so dead to me. They were in a building but it was unlike any building I'd ever seen. The walls and ceiling were made out of snakes. Slick, scaly bodies writhed, shining acid green and putrid yellow, while adding a horrible scratching sound to the moans of the dead.
When we got closer, I could see right into the open door and I gasped, jerking back into Trevor, who caught me with reassuring hands. The large hall was full of gray men, jerking and flinging themselves spasmodically around while splashing through a pool of viscous liquid that flowed out and around the building. The heads from the snakes who made up the walls and ceiling were all inside the dark space and something dripped from their open mouths onto the tormented men.
“What is this all about?” I looked back at my wolf who was rubbing my shoulders, trying to comfort me.
“The men you see are murderers and oath breakers, they are being punished,” Trevor flinched as one of the dead broke free and ran for the door, only to fall into the pool and start screaming. “The river is made from snake venom.”
“That's twisted,” I grimaced and let Trevor lead me away.
“It's what they signed up for,” Trevor shook his head. “Humans come up with the most unusual tortures.”
I nodded and trudged on through the snow, trying to block out the sounds of agony. Trevor was right, Niflheim, like all forms of afterlife, was the creation of human belief. That terrifying hall wasn't thought up by Hel, she merely ruled here. It was human magic that brought it into being, human minds that created it. I guess hardship is easier to endure if you know that those who have wronged you will be horribly punished after death. Or maybe we were all a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters.
“Look,” Azrael pointed to his left.
“Is that a dragon?” I backed up in the opposite direction.
I loved dragons. They're huge, shiny, fire-breathing creatures who could fly, cook their dinner without a stove, and were hoarders in a good way. How can you knock a critter for loving treasure? I've always thought dragons were the best mythical creatures. Mythical. As in, they don't really exist. Finding out that they were real put a new spin on things.
“That's Nidhogg,” Trevor answered. “Yes, he's a dragon but he won't harm you. He's only interested in guarding Hvergelmir.”
“Who's Hvergelmir?” I started toward the dragon, curious now that Trevor told me I didn't have to be afraid.
“Not who, what,” Azrael stopped me from getting any closer to the sleeping dragon. “It's best to leave Nidhogg be. When he's awake, he likes to snack on those poor fellows in the snake hall.”
Yeah, I guess it's best to let sleeping dragons lie but he was so beautiful, from what I could see of him. He was all bright red scales and alabaster wings, his breath sending up fountains of mist and making him look even more mystical. Behind him was a large stone wall, glittering and curving into a circle. As I watched, a large drop of water fell from the sky, shimmering blue and sparking once before falling into that circle of stone.
“Hvergelmir is the well of souls,” Azrael continued, “one of the depositories for unclaimed souls to take refuge in when their bodies have died.”
“You mean unclaimed by gods, like the souls of people who were atheists?” I was finally getting some answers to my afterlife questions and I was fascinated.
“Exactly,” Az nodded. “Your alpha's people believed that it was the place where all souls originated.”
“Wait,” something was tickling my memory. “Odin said he pulled me out of the well of souls. Was it this well?”
“Most likely,” Trevor frowned.
I didn't blame him. It probably wasn't easy to know another man had a lifetime of loving your woman, under his belt. Add to that the fact that Odin sacrificed his eye to bring me back, and it could really sting.
“How long did you spend in the well?” Azrael looked like a dog who'd just heard a suspicious rustling.
“A few centuries I think,” I shrugged. “I'd have to ask Odin, it's not like I remember it.”
But then suddenly I did. I felt the warmth of the water around me. Streams of light, no of souls, twining with me. There were so many others there. It felt safe and peaceful. I had liked it. No problems, nothing to figure out or get angry about. I just floated, happy and calm, brushing against other happy and calm souls who shared their company with me so that I never felt lonely.
There was no sense of time, so I still couldn't answer Azrael's question, but there were distinct moments I remembered. Like when Odin dove through my peaceful waters and gathered my soul in his hands. I had tried to fight him but I had nothing to fight with. Then I tried to reason with him but he couldn't hear me. All I could do was hold on to the well, defy his magic and cling to what I believed was right. It wasn't my time, my soul wasn't ready yet. The whole purpose of the well was to wash away memories so you could start fresh in the next life but my memories were still there.
The others in the well screamed for me, screamed at him, and clung to me as I did to them. I remembered the bright flashes of the souls gripping me, how our light had wound around each other. But then I saw Odin's face, the determination and the misery, my brave husband was missing an eye and I knew it was for this. He couldn't stand the grief of my absence any longer. I had to go back to him with my memories in tact, without the clean slate which would have given us a fresh start. So I stopped holding on. I let go of the well and the other souls. I let him pull me back into the harsh reality of life.
“And you weren't reborn in the natural manner,” Azrael's eyes were searching my face, as if he'd seen the vision come over me.
“No, Odin pulled me out,” a part of me still cringed at this, even after experiencing the vision. “Before the well could wash away my memories. I retained all of who I'd been.”
As Sa
bine, I'd known that there was a cycle to things. I'd pulled a Terminator and told Odin I'd be back, that all he had to do was wait and watch for me. He had a device which could see everywhere, it wasn't like watching would be all that hard for him. But he mourned me for years and couldn't take the misery any longer. He decided to trade his eye to Mimir in exchange for the knowledge of how to bring me back.
So I was back, a little sooner than I was meant to be. Living a life that should have belonged to a different soul. Damn, I'd never thought of that before. Was there some poor soul waiting longer than necessary to be reborn because I'd taken her place? Odin really messed with things he shouldn't have when he brought me back but I always said lovers were the most selfish people.
Wait, why did this make a difference to Azrael?
“Why does it matter how I came back?” I asked him. “Am I going to have some karmic payment coming due soon?”
“No,” Azrael finally shifted his eyes back to me and the intensity in them scared me a little, even though his words were reassuring. “No karma. I just think this may explain your fascination with death deities. You just said it yourself, you never had a proper cleansing. That should include your memories of death. I bet if you concentrated hard enough, you'd remember how you came to be in the well.”
I tried to think, to remember the time between dying and being put in the well. Did I have a religion? I had just assumed I hadn't since I'd been married to a deity. Why would I believe in an afterlife, in a specific Heaven or Underworld when I'd lived near one of them? But then I had a twinge, a small jolt of remembrance.
Sabine's family had been Christian, just as mine were now. I remembered them wailing, praying for my soul, behind Odin, who ignored them steadfastly. It was amazing he'd even let them in to sit at my deathbed. He knew how silly I thought they were. I mean Sabine thought they were. Then I saw him.
Azrael. He'd been there, had come to comfort my family, and had decided to ease my way as well. I recalled the feeling of his scythe gathering my soul, how it was warm and comfortable even though I'd expected it to hurt. I remembered his gentle eyes and the way Odin had stood abruptly, knowing Azrael was there but unable to see him.
Odin had faced off with Azrael over me, yelling at him that I wasn't to be taken to the Christian Heaven. I was a Pagan, I was his, and I belonged in Hvergelmir. He threatened Azrael until the angel finally showed himself and told Odin to be calm, that he respected him as a fellow death deity and there was no reason for him to be angered. He'd meant only to help ease my journey, not to steal me away from Odin.
Azrael agreed to place me in the well, since Odin couldn't accept me into Valhalla and he didn't want me in Helheim. I saw Odin's face one last time before Azrael's blocked it out. Odin's beautiful eyes were filled with tears and worry, lines etched into his perfect skin. I recalled the look so clearly but I also remembered Azrael's face, the way his eyes sparked, the light seeming to travel across his cheek and into his tattoo. Then the angel had tucked away his scythe and I knew no more until I was in the waters of the well.
I looked at Azrael with round eyes and I knew he remembered me as well. It must have been an unusual occurrence, even for him, to take the soul of an atheist and not release it into Heaven or Hell but into a Viking well. If nothing else, he'd remember fighting with Odin.
Azrael nodded to me with an expression that I was sure matched mine, pure shock with a hint of awe and a smattering of fate. Talk about coming full circle, I had just found my beginning.
How ironic that Odin had fought to keep Death from stealing me away and now, by bringing me back, he'd only placed me into Death's arms more securely.
“Like Anubis?” Trevor was still pondering the comment about me being fascinated with Death. I was so beyond that conversation, it took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “That would explain why you'd kiss him after all the things he did.”
“Indeed,” Azrael started walking again, most likely using the opportunity to compose himself.
“Hold on,” Trevor kept pace with the angel. “You said deities, as in plural. Who else is she fascinated with?”
“Can we talk about this when we get home?” I took his hand again.
“It's him, isn't it?” Trevor jerked the thumb of his other hand at Azrael. “You like this guy?”
“Yeah, I like him,” I sighed and knew I could never reveal this new connection I'd just discovered between Az and I, to Trevor. “I kind of said I'd spend some time getting to know him, in exchange for him helping me rescue you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know,” I drug a hand across my face. “I know, but he's got his own life, or death rather. A relationship with him would be similar to the one I have with Odin, you'd never see it. It would be a perfect situation for us and he was my only option for getting you out of Hell.”
“Have you...” he was so still, it was a little frightening.
“No,” Azrael answered for me. “I too would have preferred we have this conversation someplace else but since we've already started, let me finish this. I feel an irresistible pull to your mate. When she told me of your situation and of your unique relationship, I'm afraid I used it to my advantage. In my defense, the offer I made was to help her free you from Niflheim in exchange for a chance to court her. I didn't make sex part of the agreement. I will bow out if you disapprove but I must point out that I'm a good friend to have. There are advantages to knowing an angel.”
Suddenly, I saw Azrael's face above me, heard his voice, as he lowered me into the well. Rest now, beloved of gods. Maybe we shall meet again. I'd clung to the memory of his face while I swam those waters of forgetfulness, my soul longing for another sight of it, even while the well did its job and divested me of all mortal needs and wants. I lost my ache for Odin, for my sons, my family, but I never lost the desire to see the angel again.
“Fair enough,” Trevor huffed a low laugh and held his hand out to Azrael as I tried to recover from yet another memory bomb. “I'll stand behind her bargain with you and I'll support her decision to either take you as a new lover or not. This one time, I'll give up my right to veto.”
“Thank you,” Azrael shook his hand with a relieved grin and a knowing look which he fastened on me.
“Trevor?” I was so shocked, I almost fell back into a snowdrift.
“I think it's time I started trusting you more,” he kissed my cheek and I felt my gut clench. Maybe I should tell him about the memories. I looked over his serene face and decided that confession wasn't always an act of love. If I loved Trevor, it would be best to leave this unsaid. It didn't hurt him to be left in the dark while cluing him in would.
Then a familiar howl broke our peace. We looked back toward the Strand of Corpses and saw something even more horrifying. A monstrous beast was fast approaching us, his thick legs eating up the distance like a locomotive. He was covered in ratty black fur but you could still easily make out the definition of powerful muscles beneath his hide. His head was a little too large for his body and though it was dog-like, I would not have called this thing a hound. Yet that's exactly what it was, a hell hound.
“Garm,” Trevor whispered and looked around us frantically. “Can you take Vervain up, away from him?” He pushed me towards Azrael.
“I can but I think I have a better idea,” Az spared one last look for the demon dog before taking my hand. “Follow me.”
We raced across the misty ground, straight towards the sleeping dragon. My eyes got bigger as we approached and I was able to fully comprehend the size of the creature. It was huge, his head alone was the size of my car. His ruby scales shone like glass, reflecting hundreds of tiny images of us as we skidded to a halt in front of him.
“Now what?” I whispered and the cream colored skin of Nidhogg's wings shivered.
“Nidhogg,” Azrael called as he stepped toward the dragon's head. “Death summons you. Awake!”
Air rushed into the large nostrils as a rumbling started and th
e dragon's eyes popped open. I gasped, they were beautiful. Bright yellow with hints of spring green in their depths, they had slitted pupils that widened as the eyes focused on us. But it wasn't the colors that had struck me, or even the fact that those reptilian eyes focused on me, it was the memory of them. I'd seen those eyes before.
The emerald at my neck pulsed, almost as if in greeting, and the giant head shifted, snaking around Azrael to look at me. Yes, those were the eyes the emerald had showed me, the eyes I couldn't fully remember until that very moment. Dragon eyes.
I held my ground as the dragon's snout brushed me, great gusts of air moving my heavy coat as he breathed deep. He gave a last huff, the draft moving me back a little, before he swung his head so that he could peer at me again. I stared back calmly, something resonating inside me with awareness. Nidhogg wouldn't hurt me.
“Ssssissster,” a deep voice flowed from the dragon.
“Do we know each other?” My hand lifted all on its own, to touch the glassy cheek of the dragon.
“There isss knowing,” the dragon lifted his head suddenly, focusing on something over my shoulder, and I turned to look. It was Garm, he was almost upon us. “Thisss isss what you call me for, Death Angel?”
“Yes,” Azrael was staring back and forth between me and the dragon, utterly confused. He didn't even spare a glance for the approaching hell hound. “Will you help us?”
“Yessssss,” Nidhogg raised his head lazily, arching it over and beyond me, his wide chest filling my view. I was fascinated with it for a moment, how the dark red of his scales lightened to a rosy blush on his belly.
Then I turned as he inhaled, feeling the temperature raise, and watched as a ribbon of flame shot from Nidhogg's mouth, drawing a line between us and Garm. The hound yelped, stopping abruptly and backpedaling a few feet. He glared at the wall of fire that burned despite the lack of fuel.
