by S. T. Bende
Ull gave me a tight smile, then pulled his T-shirt down as he strode toward the kitchen. I stared at his back as he tore ingredients from the fridge, willing the moisture to stay in my eyes. I couldn’t ignore the pit in my gut that told me things were about to get ugly.
And from the way Ull was butchering onions on the chopping block, I knew his gut told him the same thing.
My sleep on the flight home was disturbed. I drifted off with surprising ease, but my mind immediately filled with dark images—the snake and the wolf that were mainstays of my nightmares; a sea of dark, deserted buildings shrouded by big, black skies. I didn’t have much control over what I saw, and I was glad when the darkness cleared and gave way to a beautiful apple grove filled with laughing friends. Instinctively I knew it was Asgard, and I watched as Thor, Sif, and a group of equally beautiful gods stood in a circle.
“Throw it, Sif, throw it!” A brunette goddess clapped her hands. My sightline came over Sif’s shoulder to see a familiar face standing in the center of the circle with his arms spread open. His kindly facial features were lit up in a huge smile.
“Come now, Sif,” Balder spoke. “You know what my mother said: she had every being in the realm take an oath to protect me. Even the Norns cannot challenge that.”
He motioned for Sif to throw her rock and she did. It hurled at Balder’s chest, veering off course at the last possible moment. The group cheered.
“I told you.” Balder laughed.
“Now me.” A short god holding a bow and arrow stepped forward. “It’s only mistletoe.”
“The most harmless thing in all the realms. Take your best shot, brother!” Balder waved him ahead.
“No! Wait! Do not shoot!” A raven-haired woman dove for the arrow. She was seconds too late.
The scene shifted into slow motion. The shorter god drew his arrow, and the sprig of mistletoe ruffled at its end. Balder put his arms in the air in mock surrender, laughing the whole time. The arrow left the bow, traveling at half-speed toward its target. But at the last moment, where it was supposed to veer off course, it shot straight through Balder’s left wrist. The shorter god’s face dropped in horror. Balder clutched at his arm in confusion. “But Mother said…” He pulled the quiver out with great effort, watching the red liquid drip down his palm.
“Balder! No!” The dark-haired woman ran to her son. “Mistletoe is so small; I didn’t ask it to protect you. And it struck your hjerte vene—your heart vein is…is…” Her eyes spilled over as she clutched her son. “This is all my fault!”
Balder dropped to his knees and his mother fell with him. Blood covered them both, flowing more freely as Balder pulled his hand from the wound.
“Brother.” The shorter god stepped forward. “I am sorry. I had no idea. He gave me the arrow.” He gestured toward the forest, where I saw a cloaked figure lurking in the shadows. When I squinted, I was pretty sure I could see Elf Man hiding under that hood.
“Who?”
But Elf Man was gone. The gods gathered around Balder in horror. He had grown unnaturally pale.
“My son. No!” The woman sobbed in earnest. Sif sniffed delicately, turning into Thor for comfort. All of the gods began to weep as Balder dropped fully to the ground, and took his last breath.
Ragnarok had begun.
Chapter Eight
“ULL, WAKE UP. Wake up!” I shook my husband, who had fallen asleep holding me on one of the jet’s extra-wide lounges. He rolled his head to the side but he was out like a hibernating bear. “Wake up! Now!” I thumped his chest with my palms until he opened one eye.
“What is it?” He tried to pull me closer, but for once I wasn’t in the mood.
“Balder is dead.”
That did it. Ull sat up so fast he nearly threw me off the chair.
“What? When? Did you have a vision?” He reached out to grab me just in time, catching my waist before I could topple over.
“I don’t know when it happened, but in my vision everyone was standing around, throwing things at him because he thought he was invincible. I guess his mom did something?”
“She made everything in Asgard take an oath not to hurt him,” Ull murmured. “What did she miss?”
“Mistletoe. And the elf who has been coming after me in my dreams gave this shorter god an arrow laced with mistletoe and he shot it and…” I didn’t want to say any more.
“And Balder is gone.” Ull finished for me. He closed his eyes. “Oh, Kristia. Do you realize what this means?”
I nodded. “Ragnarok has started. It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Ull kept his eyes closed. He pulled me to him and buried his face in my hair. “Darling, are you certain you want to go through with this? I can take you to one of the safe houses until all of this is over. We can go back to Asgard Cay, or to the house in Alfheim, or—”
“Ull Myhr, how dare you think so little of me? Our family is not going to face this without me. I’m the only one the Norns haven’t seen coming, remember? I’m the only shot we have at surviving this thing. And I was not raised to turn my back on the people I love when they need me.”
“But your bodyguard is not scheduled to begin until next week. You cannot put yourself at risk until I know I can protect you. I shall contact Thor at once to arrange—”
“We have bigger problems. I’m going to do what I can to help.”
“I am still not comfortable with this.”
“Neither am I,” I answered honestly. “Not entirely. But it has to happen. Otherwise we both lose the people we care about. And I can’t allow that—not when there’s something I can do.”
Ull grabbed my hand. His trembling fingers betrayed the fear he held back from his voice. “We will call Olaug when we land. I am certain Odin has sent instructions for us.”
Odin did have instructions: we were to spend the night in London, get as much rest as we could, and head to Ýdalir first thing in the morning. Olaug would brief us from there.
It wasn’t the best night’s sleep I’d ever had. As I tossed and turned, my too-familiar nightmare visited me again. Now my images were much more vivid.
Ull and I stood in the field of lavender, hands clasped to meet our destiny. This time we were surrounded by our family: Sif, fierce in her armor; Thor, Mjölnir clasped firmly in hand; Odin, his great robes billowing in the howling wind; Gunnar and Inga, battle swords drawn at the ready; and Olaug, heartbreakingly frail yet resolute in her desire to protect our home. The wolf and the snake stalked toward us, angry beams shooting from their eyes. As we stood together, awaiting the approaching onslaught, the angry beams turned to sparks and the field burst into flames. The animals pulled back, their mission accomplished. Closer and closer the fire lapped toward us, determined to envelope us in its angry death. But just as it reached the spot where we stood the sky opened up, a great dark hole taking its place. The hole grew larger and larger, opening like a vortex and bearing down on us with the ferocity of a tornado, plunging my nightmare to blackness.
Strong arms held me tight as I bucked against the vision. My shoulders wrenched back and forth as I fought to pull myself out of the dream. I kicked my legs, and let out a shriek so loud a dog on the street began to bark. Only when I realized I was safely ensconced in Ull’s arms, lying in the king-sized bed of our Kensington row house, did the terror start to subside. It gave way to heartbreak as Ull whispered into my ear.
“Shh. Darling, it will be okay.”
“Maybe,” I whispered back.
“Why do you say that? I vowed to protect you, and I have never broken a promise.”
My fingers stroked the stubble along Ull’s jaw. “I know you’ll do everything you can. But I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to fight this. It’s too powerful.”
“Do you want me to take you back to the Cay? It is protected. Nobody will be able to find us there.”
“You know I can’t do that.” My eyes pleaded with Ull. “I’m not walking away from our family. Ever.�
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One corner of Ull’s mouth turned in a sad smile. “How can the thing I love most about you be the very thing that drives me mad?”
I let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “I just feel like I haven’t prepared enough. I’m afraid that when it’s time for me to see whatever it is I’m supposed to see, I’m going to let you all down.”
Ull’s eyes softened. His lips brushed my forehead, and he squeezed me against his bare chest. “You could never let me down. How about I tell you another story?”
“That’s really sweet, but I don’t think a bedtime story’s going to help. Warm milk isn’t going to do much here, either.”
“I think you might want to hear this story.”
I lifted my head. Ull was smirking at me.
“Go ahead.” I rested my cheek on his shoulder while he drew tiny circles on my hip with his thumb. If he was trying to distract me, he was doing a bang-up job.
“A long time ago there was a very young warrior. He was fresh out of the academy, and he thought he knew everything about combat.”
“Was this warrior a devastatingly handsome blond?” I teased.
“Perhaps.” I could hear the smile in Ull’s voice. “Okay, so I was fresh out of the academy and I was arrogant. I was assigned command of a unit, and we were charged with disabling a minefield the mountain giants had set just outside the Dark Forest. It was a rookie job, and I thought I was too good for it. I stormed into HQ and demanded a serious combat assignment. The commander stared me down. ‘Son,’ he said. ‘This is a serious combat assignment. You do not disable those bombs, and a lot of gods are going to die.’ He dismissed me with an inane hand flick, and went back to his paperwork.
“I was furious. The two years I had spent studying hand to hand, weapons, tactical, every program the academy had for specialist assassin training: it all seemed like a joke now that I was being sent to do a Level One forensic job.”
“Disabling a minefield doesn’t seem like an entry level test,” I interrupted.
“In Asgard, it is. Believe me, we have far bigger threats lurking in our shadows than explosives.”
I shivered.
“Needless to say, I stormed out of the commander’s office and took it out on my troops. My orders were halfhearted and ill thought-out, and I sent them into the field without adequately briefing them on the realities of the situation. The mountain giants had set twenty bombs laced with poison, some rigged to launch at fifty yards, and my men had no way to see them coming.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Thankfully, none of them were hurt. Even without proper briefing, they assessed the threats, eliminated them strategically, and completed the mission without issue. Well, mostly without issue.”
I cringed. “What happened?”
“I was so in my own head, I missed an obvious trap. I stepped right onto a hotspot, and triggered a detonation. It should have blown my head clean off, but Gunnar saw the device and acted fast. He pushed me into the forest just as the bomb went off; he took a heavy hit to his arm, saving my sorry back. I would be dead if he had not acted—and it would have been my own doing.”
I let out a slow breath. “I’m glad you were both okay.”
“Back then I was egotistical, overconfident in my abilities, to the point where I lost sight of the real threat. A lot has changed since then. But I want you to hear this so you will understand how very ready you are for whatever it is that lies ahead of you.”
My hair tumbled against my shoulders as I shook my head. “I’m anything but ready. I barely know how to separate my spirit from my body, much less what I’m supposed to look for once I do.”
“But that is just it. You know how much you do not yet know. Your humility combined with your willingness to put in the work, are the very qualities that will force you to succeed. The fact that you wanted to spend our honeymoon learning to fight; that even after months of studying, you worry you will not know what to do when the moment comes; that diligence proves that you have the tools to get through this.
“Ull,” I whispered.
“We never know when our time is going to be up. If Gunnar had not saved my life that day, I never would have come to Midgard. I never would have met you. I never would have known what it feels like to be truly happy, and I never would have let myself experience love.” Ull held my chin between his pointer finger and his thumb. Then he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “The point is, life, even an immortal life, is unpredictable; messy; heartbreaking; and at times, downright beautiful. All you can do is your best in any situation you are dealt. And then you have to trust that the people around you will have your back. You might not feel like you are ready to take on whatever it is the Fates have asked of you.” He held my gaze. “But I know you. You are smart, determined, and one of the most driven individuals I have ever met. If I thought I could convince you to run away and let me keep you somewhere safe until all of this is over, then believe me, Kristia, I would try. But you do not operate that way. And I know you are not going to back down, no matter what I say. This is not going to be easy; we are fighting for Asgard’s very existence. But I have every confidence that you will do exactly what you set your mind to.” Ull’s lips curved up. “I would hate to be Loki about now. He has no idea what is coming for him.”
My eyes filled with tears as Ull rested his forehead against mine.
“Tro, love.”
“What does that mean?” I wiped my cheek.
“It means faith. Sweetheart, when the only thing you have left is faith, just take my hand and believe.”
“Oh, Ull.” I threw my leg across his hip and rolled on top of him. “I love you.”
“I love you more.” His eyes twinkled at me. He cradled my cheeks with both hands and brought my face to his. His lips pressed lightly against mine in a sweet kiss. Then he gently shifted me so I was beside him, tucked securely under one arm. “We should try to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“I know.” I closed my eyes and willed myself to go back to sleep. But the effort was about as useful as a trapdoor on a canoe. And if the steady tapping of Ull’s finger on his chest was any indication, I wasn’t the only one with insomnia.
Neither of us got much sleep that night. Instead we lay in the darkness, trying not to think about the uncertainties the morning would bring. Soon enough we would be with Olaug and Elsker. If I did my job right, we would all be safe soon. It was time to master my abilities—fast.
When we got to Bibury the next day, dusk was falling on the quiet country town. We made our way up the gravel drive, too somber to appreciate the familiar musicality of the trickling fountain. When we opened the door we were overcome with mouthwatering smells. We entered the kitchen to find Olaug pulling a roast out of the oven while an apple pie cooled on the counter. Her expression was grim.
“Eat,” she instructed. “Ull, your father wants to see you when you finish your meal. Go downstairs and instruct Heimdall to open the Bifrost. Kristia, you are to stay with me.”
Ull squeezed my hand and shot me an anxious glance.
“It is all right, Ull—I will protect her in your absence. I promise,” Olaug finished. I nodded at him, realizing she was giving me the privacy I needed to focus on this, my greatest task. Saving Asgard.
“Fine. But do not get into trouble, either of you.” Ull held out my chair and we sat down to eat. “Kristia, do not do anything brave. Just stay here with Olaug. No heroics. Agreed?”
Olaug caught my eye and gave a small nod. We would have to tell Ull what he needed to hear or he would never leave for Asgard. I didn’t want to worry him any more than absolutely necessary…and I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to focus on finding the tenth realm with an anxious god hovering over me. I crossed my fingers underneath the table. What Ull didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt him. Besides, Olaug said she would protect me. How much trouble could we really get into? “Agreed.”
We ate in earnest. We had
a long night ahead of us.
But something was off. Olaug wasn’t herself. She was normally a strong, vivacious woman, similar in many ways to my own grandmother. Tonight she was quieter, slower, and much wearier than I’d ever seen. Ull seemed too worried about me to pay attention to much else, so I didn’t bother pointing out that Olaug seemed practically frail. But the moment we saw him safely through the Bifrost I pointed to the leather chair next to the armor with my sternest face.
“Sit,” I commanded.
“Pardon?” Olaug tutted her disapproval. “Kristia, you know we do not have time for pleasantries.”
“I don’t care. Sit down while I fix you a cup of tea.”
“We really cannot—”
“Please, Mormor,” I pleaded. She softened at my nickname.
“Oh, all right. But we have five minutes. That is all.”
“I only need four.” I turned for the small kitchen in the chamber below Ýdalir and quickly assembled a pot of hot water with teabags, lemon, and honey.
Olaug tilted her head when I brought her the tray. “Thank you, Kristia, but I prefer milk.”
“I know you do. But if you’re sick—and don’t try to tell me you’re feeling one hundred percent because it’s obviously not true—then you need lemon and honey.”
“Kristia.” Olaug shook her head. “I am fine. Really.”
“What’s going on?” I knelt beside her and poured the tea. “Does it have anything to do with that dream I had the night before my wedding?”
“Your dream?”
“My dream.” I waited, but Olaug just blinked at me. “You know, the one where that monster Elf Man said he gave you a magical disease? That it was going to…really hurt you. And the only way to heal you would be to destroy him?”
