Hellbound

by Tina Glasneck

  “Now we are still in factions. After the waters came, those elves who remained headed to the stronghold and placed barriers to keep everything out. Those outside are left to their own devices, and some came together to regroup.” I gasped at that. I thought we were only in a pocket, but it seemed that the pocket was part of this alternate reality that the gods had indeed created.

  “It’s so easy to be right when there are tons of people to agree with you,” Gi continued. “But what started as a grumble turned into a revolt, and mother nature just made it more difficult. Flooding, tornadoes, winter storms that lasted into May for most places. This combined with political upheaval. It was like the gods turned away and stopped listening, while we wreaked havoc on one another.

  “How long, Gi? How long has this been going on?”

  “We stopped telling time long ago, but I guess the collapse happened around eighteen months ago? But we’re in a world where a day can feel like a year.”

  Shocked and helpless, I shook my head.

  It wasn’t enough to say I was a celestial key. That explained what I might be, but not who. Was I one of the gods, more than that, was I supposed to save them or damn them all? Gi scanned the distance.

  “Must be hard for you to hear about this,” Kara began.

  This place with its history and through all of the hours of toiling in the city I remembered. It was much more than just hard. We could have stopped it from happening.

  “We have to find Njord, as he was last seen here,” she continued.

  “We have to get rid of the water first,” Thor surmised.

  I nodded. “Where are the people? It can’t all be this way.”

  “That which the gods could fix has been so,” Kara said. Her voice seemed so far away as if she saw something I couldn’t. “but this here still exists, waiting for us to be the solution. But if we can’t right it, it will spread like a virus, contaminating the rest of Midgard until all that remains is an empty shell.”

  Thor placed his hand on my shoulder, and I didn’t shrug it off. “The thing about time and space is that there are those who cannot fix it, but also those who can—and you, dear, Sif, can.”

  I turned towards him. “Isn’t there a way that you could just call down lightning, swing your hammer and be done with it?”

  “No, my hammer will not fix everything. It’s not a bandage to cover this bruise. This is something we must traverse together, dear Sif, because together we caused a horrible thing. My honor wishes to protect Midgard, and you and I both fear that my honor is not enough for this war we wage.”

  I tilted my head and looked at him, truly looked at the god standing across from me. There was no doubt that he was capable of decimating cities with just a flick of his wrist, but it was his gaze that held a pinch of sorrow. Just as I mourned for what I’d lost, he mourned for that which he’d failed to protect. But still, here he stood, ready to do whatever he could to once again defend a city that did not need a Thunder God.

  What was a god without worshippers?

  I reached over and touched his arm. A shock zapped me.

  “Wake up!” The scream resounded in my head, and a runic chant quickly left my mouth. I raised my hands as if they were being pulled by strings and spoke. My throat burned like it was raw; my stomach quivered, my muscles tensed, and ancient magic flowed from me as I commanded the earth to drink the waters, and the plants to prosper. At a snail’s pace, the waters began to recede, and my hands and arms remained raised toward the heavens.

  With eagle-eyed vision, Kara called out. She must have spotted something in the distance and pointed down toward the James River. I squinted and saw that which she’d turned to. The receding water slowly revealed Njord’s merman cape.

  Thor shook his head. Njord was mighty in his own right and a warrior who’d survived the Vanir-Aesir war. For something to surprise him, it must have been pretty bad-ass, even I knew that.

  “That’s where we should head,” I agreed. “Maybe we can find a clue.”

  Chapter 21

  Lady Hel

  Lady Hel sauntered into the open-air area where the trees stood tall, and tons of fresh grass waited to be sniffed, raced upon. Her dogs ran around.

  Death could be akin to jumping out of an airplane, the adrenaline mixed with the fear of the unknown, but it didn’t have to be something dreaded.

  Helheim, the land of the dead, welcomed all, even the four-legged kind. These great guards, now pain-free, often ventured to other planes to help, to calm, to soothe. But until they received their jobs, they found their fun in the dog park.

  Before she stepped onto the grass, she watched them bark, run and play tag. They chased balls, fake birds, jumped into the nearby puddles, created just for them.

  It would take a keen eye to see that these dogs, once humane and family pets, now served her—alive to enjoy another day of play. Here they lived in joy, peace, and harmony.

  Death wasn’t a one-way road, end all be all. But instead, energy that could not be destroyed, passed on from one life of one realm into another, this realm of Helheim.

  The end of life’s shell did not mean the end of life at all. To her, these animals were an extension of her family.

  Lady Hel walked through the throng of hellhounds; they all laid down as she walked by, kneeling, and bowing to her. They didn’t need a handler. She alone was more than enough.

  All worries, pain, and hurt now long forgotten, in this afterlife of harmony, but now was the time that they would have to take up arms, to help fight the good fight.

  A tinge of sorrow hit her, for it was not a guarantee that these beloved pets would return to her side.

  Garmr stayed parallel with her as they made their rounds.

  Out in the garden, it was best to be seen on such a day like today—a hellacious holiday. There was an array of activity, as it was the Festival of the Dead; a time when spirits should easily be able to cross over. Bright yellow candles lit the way, and up in the sky, she saw the numerous yellow kites that flew. The veil would thin, and the residents would be given a chance to partially visit should a loved one remember them.

  Men, women, children, dwarves, monsters, fae and more from every nation, creed, and nationality throughout the realms would partake. There was beauty in remembering those who’d passed on, for the dead still remembered their lives and loved ones. They still yearned to see them do well, be better, and strive for greatness, but not only of accolades, but of heart.

  The latest souls were being separated into their categories. She watched the caretakers bring out the babies, each one holding, cradling and loving on one to the tiniest inhabitants of Helheim. Lady Hel cracked a smile. The babies cooed, giggled when tickled, and blew bubbles. Yet, even they needed to have the chance to see the family who missed them, and maybe, just maybe, hug the mommy and daddy who had to let go too soon.

  Soon there would be that slow progression as all of the souls found their place and job here in Helheim. No one could just sit idly around. As there were lessons that needed to be learned before the souls could decide to head back out from this place. Until they could save themselves, it would continue to be a decision to be fraught with friction.

  She could not save the souls, only point them in the right direction, so they could work with their higher selves and move onto their next life. To save their souls would be to damn them to repeat their pain. No benevolent ruler would do so, could do so. Life was more than just a combination of active cells, synapses, and interactions; it was a recipe filled with love, joy, and moments of unforgettable beauty that were so strong that it continued even after death’s final breath.

  The golden karmic glow of Baldr caught her attention. Odin’s son sat surrounded by the wise men of the ages. Hel eavesdropped as Baldr exchanged pleasantries with Tacitus, one of the great Roman historians. “And you never had any dealings with Minerva?” Tacitus questioned to which Baldr remained mum and bowed his head.

  Nanna, Baldr’s wife, onl
y sat an earshot away, usually left to her own devices and sullen, Hel watched a spark of mirth pass over her face, only to slowly disappear. Yep, something was there, a story of two who might help Baldr and Nanna in this place, Hel realized, and placed it as a thought in the back of her mind. They would be of much use in the coming age for sure.

  Siegfried hurried over to her. “Excuse me, my lady, but the Wielder, Ola, has returned and you requested that you be contacted should she appear.” Hel looked behind him and, to the side, stood Ola. Under her eyes rested darkened circles. Her task had been no easy feat after all.

  “Yes, yes, Siegfried, thank you.” She turned her attention to Ola. “Walk with me, dear, and tell me about your adventure.”

  Ola, dressed in a burgundy leather jacket, embossed with pink gold thread, limped forward. “Not everything went as planned, Lady Hel,” Ola squeaked, her voice as low as a mouse.

  “But did you gather the stones?”

  Ola nodded her head and looked down at her feet. “Yes, but at a cost.”

  Lady Hel waved her hand. “There will always be collateral damage for any great moment of change. But to accomplish what must be done, we must also be willing to take chances. Poison cannot be simply cut out but must be slowly withdrawn. This world has been poisoned by the gods, and it is our job, no our duty to extract that poison and heal the worlds, and all of them. Now, please, hand me the stones.”

  Ola reached into her jacket, removed a pouch, and passed it over to Lady Hel’s outstretched hand. Lady Hel opened the pouch and peeked inside, then poured the contents into the palm of her hand. The stones were a multitude of colors, shapes, and sizes, all perfect for her beloved’s crown.

  “You’ve done an amazing job, Ola. Well done.”

  “But the fallout. Much chaos has erupted because of my taking of the stones. The realms are in distress.”

  “Yes, but the more for them to join in our cause and rise against the gods in our fight to end them all.”

  Tears raced down her face. “I, I helped not to cause harm, but because I know you are kind and just and would not do anything to hurt those in your care.”

  Lady Hel cracked a smile. “Surely, you are not questioning my plans or judgment. Do not mistake our relationship or my kindness.” She turned away back to Siegfried. “Please take Ola back to the castle and make sure she is taken care of. Her journey has been quite tiring.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Siegfried said and took hold of Ola’s upper arm, who struggled against his grip.

  “But, my lady, I need to return, to—”

  “Shh, Ola. All things will work out to our good, and we will work all of this out.”

  Lady Hel hurried back to her war room, where the maps and plans awaited. Everything was like a game of patience and nuclear explosions, calculated. Soon she would need her army to rise and fight, for together, she and Harley would bring the gods to their knees.

  Like a scorpion’s sting, excitement raced throughout her body. She would not lose him again, but he would again walk and together they would rule the night and the daylight.

  “It won’t be much longer, love. I will make all things right, and we shall never be apart again. The Norns will bless us, the stars will cast their light upon us, and you shall rise.”

  She moved to the Book of the Dead that rested on the table, opening it to the spell she’d need to know. Everything would need to be consecrated, and combined with the power of the key, would bring all things to fruition. One lone tear slid down her half decomposed face, and she caught it in a vial. She’d have no more sorrow, and they would make up for all of their lost time.

  She had eight stones and would soon have the key to make this all become reality.

  Chapter 22

  Lady Hel

  “What is it worth if you’re not willing to risk it all?” she whispered, and Garmr came up to her, then rubbed her side. Surely, he felt the tinge of anxiety she pushed as far down and away as possible. She didn’t fear what might happen to her, as every beginning must have an ending before it could begin anew. But, more of what would happen to all of these in her care—dwarves, elves, monsters and men alike.

  War was calling.

  Her general appeared at her side, clearing his throat. “Ma’am, are you ready to commence?” He carried his black-studded helmet, and an enchanted longsword strapped to his side. His uniform bore the intricate patch of the elite soldier of dark leather and spikes, showcasing Celtic embossed knotwork.

  “I know you have missed your king, too, Eochaidh,” she said. Usually, Odin would have taken him from Helheim, as he was an elite warrior, but his oath to the Alder King brought him to her, where he had served faithfully, only second to Siegfried.

  Everything was set up for the next part of the plan.

  “My lady, do we risk the only way in gaining access to Alfheim by the slow poisoning?” Siegfried asked. His hands clasped behind his back and a furrowed brow.

  “I don’t care if we have to peel her like an onion to get to the heart of the matter.” Lady Hel cast a scathing glare at Siegfried, who stood patiently before her throne, while Garmr watched her every step.

  “I have no other choice. All other ways are denied to me, but she being the key can open all doors, even the door where Harley is hidden. Ola has given us the stones; Verdandi has provided us with the location, but Sif is the key.”

  “And what of the crown in which to place the stones?” The crown had been destroyed, turned into ash. Hel considered her options.

  “Bring me one of the dwarves, one of the sons of Ivaldi. They are quite good with their hands.

  “I have collected the stones, but Verdandi has told me that Sif must be the one to awaken Harley. What can I do? My hands are tied, but I will unleash the hounds on all of Alfheim if it means that Harley again walks. We have acquired the pieces needed for the crown, and it shall again sit on my beloved’s head.”

  She clapped her hands, and a loud echo caused one of the white walls to retract slowly, revealing a long dark corridor. “Come, we must prepare the men, and then ensure that Vali is prepared to work his tricks.”

  Chapter 23

  Sif

  “How do you plan to get over there?” I asked. It would have been too easy to expect Thor to raise his hammer, have lightning strike, for the waters to part as if he was Moses, and we were his Lost Tribe.

  “I suggest we wait until the tide recedes. During the sunlight hours the waters rise from the manmade dams upstream, but at night they close the gates, allowing the streets to dry.”

  “Why would they flood this area during the day?” I asked.

  “They don’t like people down here to see the truth.”

  “Truth?” Kara asked.

  “We’ve been fighting for years, and when you voiced opposition, you disappeared. The towers that once supported cell phones are gone. The power grid was destroyed. With the elves, we knew what to expect: stay in line. But I knew it was only a matter of time before the culling would begin, and it did. But the culling hasn’t stopped. We replaced one monster for another. And they came in droves. The old witch says the magic did it.”

  “Magic?” Thor asked.

  “Yes,” Gi said, “creatures arose. We’ve heard of giants, trolls, draugrs, and ghouls. Some have even said a kraken now calls the river home. Those creatures keep us separated from the dark elves.”

  “Well, we can’t wait until darkness arrives,” Thor declared.

  If this had been a Lord of the Rings point of the story, large eagles would have swooped down and carried us over the river, but instead, we turned around and headed towards the door, then rushed down the stairwell. We’d have to foot it the old-fashioned way.

  Our feet thudded against the metal stairs, down the flight of stairs until we reached the bottom and splashed into the still calf-high water.

  “It might be better for us to get a boat or something down here,” Kara suggested and I knew it wouldn’t take too much searching for a boat,
as Byrd Street was on the inner-city Canal, where boats were moored. We headed for the exit.

  The door would open outwards, but it refused to budge, despite Kara and my pushing against it. “Something is blocking it,” Kara said.

  “You might want to hit the door with your hammer and use those muscles,” I told Thor. I couldn’t rid my voice of its snarky barb, no matter how much Thor was growing on me. I was still hurt, upset and jaded. “There isn’t enough patience in the world that makes any of this feel right.”

  Both Kara and Thor seemed to dismiss my concerns, but that was fine. I didn’t need their approval any more than I needed their help. I just wanted to get away from him. It would have been better to burst through the door and be greeted by dragons and unicorns, instead of more evidence of the apocalyptic repercussions.

  We moved out of Thor’s way.

  Thor raised his hammer, knocking off the doorknob, shattering the lock, and then he pushed. The water’s force resisted, but with one final grunt, the door finally splintered into pieces.

  Once out onto the street, we stared at the destruction up close and personal.

  Adrenaline rushed me, as I could feel the magic that singed the air. My stomach lurched, churned. But this magic wasn’t the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies, but more like rotting fish. I wanted to peel off my skin and run. Every part of me, down to my DNA yelled “flee.” In all of my time in dealing with the gods, I’d never had such a sense of foreboding.

  I covered my mouth to stop the stench from assaulting my senses any more than it already had, and I pointed toward one of the nearby bobbing fish boats. The tackling equipment swung in the light breeze that pushed against the boat and on the water.

  “We have to cross over the river,” I yelled as we splashed toward the bobbing boat.