Holding her quarterstaff, she surveyed a plain of uncultivated fields and blackened gorse grass, and tried to find her bearings. Fittingly, the crystallized weeds of the moor appeared bent over as if pushed by ferocious winds, the longer segments resembling bodies keeled over in dying agonies.
Clarinda’s eyes widened as she realized that the entire landscape was filled with corpses, and what she’d taken for the foliage of this frozen world were, indeed, men and women whose ashen features and broken bodies lay everywhere, their eyes staring sightlessly upward. A griffin lay near the bodies of three goblins, its once majestic eagle’s head half-severed from the massive lion’s body. Tears filled Clarinda’s eyes — she could only imagine the corruptive power Hela had used to induce this most kingly of magical beasts to join her undead army.
“What a mess!” Ratatosk said from his position around her neck. “We just missed a battle, and I’m not setting a paw down there until you find a patch of ground that doesn’t have blood or gore.”
“Quiet, Bone-Tooth,” the wolf, Geri, snarled from his place at Clarinda’s heel. On Clarinda’s other side, the wolf’s companion, Freki, licked part of its foreleg as it waited attentively for her to move or give a command.
Geri shrugged its head in the direction of the forest ahead, then rumbled quietly, “Scout ahead, Freki — I’ll stay with the Norn.”
The other, larger wolf immediately loped away. Freki disappeared in the trees and Clarinda looked at Geri. “Do we wait, or try to find Santini?” she asked.
“You’re the Norn,” Geri replied, sitting on its haunches. “We’re merely protection.”
“We’ll follow Freki,” Clarinda decided. “Santini’s got to be in there,” she nodded at the snow-covered pines of the forbidding forest.
The snow began falling harder, covering everything in pristine white. A deathly silence hovered over the world, broken only when the breeze changed and brought with it the faint din of battle ahead. Changing direction toward it, she passed like a wraith through a thicket and onto some real ground. Patches of frost-covered granite were here, with lichen and fungi bursting through cracks like diseased growths.
“Sounds as if the fighting continues,” Geri commented, easily keeping pace with Clarinda but ears tautly upright and fur bristling.
Freki appeared again, shattering frozen ferns like glass as he ran to reach them.
“Skade’s come undone,” Freki said. “She’s gone beserker, and it looks as if she almost single-handedly routed the Wilde Jagd. Fenris runs with his wolves while the Codex Wielder rides him like a horse battling their foes. All are bloodied by what looked like a fierce battle.” The wolf licked its chops. “Do we fight, Geri?”
“We go where this Norn directs us,” Geri growled.
“Oh, go fight!” Ratatosk encouraged, leaping off Clarinda’s shoulders and scampering up a tree. “This is a dead world,” the squirrel continued, “where there’s nothing else to do except kill! I mean, look! All there seem to be around here are dead bodies and too many vampyr s and werewolves to count. They’ll try to kill you at every turn, so I’d recommend getting them first!”
Clarinda ignored the bloodthirsty squirrel and knelt to the level of the wolves. “We’ll fight if we have to, but can you lead us around the main battle to where Santini is?”
“Of course, Mistress,” Freki growled confidently. “As I said, they’re steadily retreating in the direction of Hvergelmir Falls where Fenris and Skade have a baude.”
“‘A hut?’” Clarinda repeated, not sure how defensible a place that sounded, but glad to hear that they were surviving the attack of the Wilde Jagd. “Good — we’ll follow and try to intercept them. Lead on, my friends.”
She broke into a trotting pace to follow the wolves as they surged forward.
Surprisingly, nothing came forward to interfere with their progress, so they made their way at relatively good speed through the grey and snow-filled world.
Clarinda heard Ratatosk paralleling their course and at times saw the squirrel leaping through the trees, racing to keep pace. She still felt irritated with him from their argument at Mimir’s Well, so his flying from tree limb to tree limb was a close enough distance for now.
She reflected on the encounter with Mimir, and how she’d been initially surprised by the sight of an old man and two wolves sitting by the flaming pool. The stranger and Mimir were chatting conversationally, as if it were the most natural thing in the Nine Worlds for the Seer in charge of the Well of Destiny to entertain someone other than the Norns. Clarinda didn’t know the old man, but immediately recognized the wolves as Geri and Freki because (along with Ratatosk and Vdofnir the Hen), the animals had been her companions since her first week in the Nine Worlds.
Before she could give further thought to the strange man’s identity, an uncomfortable moment came for Clarinda when she and the Norn descended to the level of the pool. The wolves rose, came forward, greeted her by name, and nuzzled her briefly against her legs. Urd raised a questioning eyebrow at the familiarity.
“Indeed?” was all Urd said, but with an inflection that bundled anger, disappointment, and even astonishment in its two syllables.
Clarinda didn’t need any further prompting, and explained how the animals had started coming to her shortly after she moved into the grotto.
“All the animals?” Urd had asked. “Even Ratatosk?”
“Especially Ratatosk,” Clarinda admitted. “Actually, him, most often of all.”
“Hiya, Urd!” the squirrel interrupted, hopping onto a flat length of granite that almost reached Mimir’s floating head. The squirrel turned a withering look on Clarinda. “Thanks for keeping your promise and not telling the Norns about us, you little fille de bas.”
“I can’t be a bastard, Ratatosk,” Clarinda countered, affronted at the creature’s language, “I know both my parents. What are you? I think the term probably could better apply to your —”
“Clarinda, don’t waste words with a glorified rat,” Geri cautioned, scowling at Ratatosk with yellow eyes.
The squirrel changed tactics, looking upward pleadingly at the elderly man, whose bearded face wore a slight smile.
“Do you see, Grimnir? Do you see what I have to put up with down here? Is it any wonder that I spend my very long-lived life running up and down a tree and playing with dragons and Hel-beasts? Would you stay down here for any time? The conditions are impossible. Let me tell you something, I was just in Hel, and she knows how to host a party — a festive atmosphere compared to these grim folk, lively banquet tables…”
“Ratatosk!” Urd’s voice cut sharply. “What have you told her?” she asked the squirrel, keeping her scarlet robes swept tightly around her and rising to her full height. “How many of the Gȧtefull Runer ?”
“None of those — I swear!” Ratatosk squealed, fear coming into his voice. The little animal ran behind the old man’s weathered robes and peered at the group gathered at Mimir’s shoreline. “I’ve been telling her stories about each of the Nine Worlds, mostly.’
“What are the ‘Enigmatic Runes’?” Clarinda asked Urd.
“Sigils,” the elderly stranger answered gruffly, leaning on an enormous wooden spear. He pointed to the runes that were etched on the entire surface of his weapon. “Special signs — runes, like these — but, I think, in the case of the Norns, very different in what they do.”
If I may. Mimir’s voice was cold. This has all been well and good — and I do hope that I’m not bothering any of you as I suggest that we turn to the matter at hand. Ratatosk, quit bothering the wolves, or perhaps go visit Nidhogg the Dragon. Clarinda, you’ll be learning one of the Gȧtefull Runer before this morning is over, so let’s not worry overmuch about that. Urd, I knew of the Guardians visiting Clarinda, and think the friendship will be helpful in time to come. Now, Clarinda — allow me to introduce Grimnir, an old friend who’s taken something of an interest in our attempts to help young Santini. He has some news to share — it seem
s that he had a visit with the Hospitaller shortly after the boy’s arrival in Alfheim… .
Mimir’s voice had held the same patient tone he took when lecturing Clarinda about the history of the Nine Worlds, and the conversation had turned to the immediate need to get Santini out of danger in Niflheim.
She cleared her head of the memory, focusing on the present. There would be time to discuss things with Santini once she got him and brought him back to the Well.
Clarinda and the two wolves reached the crest of the forest and saw that there was a mist-covered ocean of trees as far as her eye could see.
Only a few sounds of battle came to them now, but the clanging of swords and shouting of men were closer. The girl and wolves began running again, descending into the forest and again losing sight of the horizon.
Twice wild men and women came running at them through the wood, but screaming in terror at something behind them and not putting up any kind of fight once the wolves snarled and Clarinda held up her quarterstaff defensively. She saw blood spattered everywhere now, and bodies were lying about in profusion.
Then she saw him. As her eyes followed the trail of splotched blood, Santini’s form became apparent through a tangle of bracken. He spoke urgently to someone out of the range of Clarinda’s vision. The youth leaned exhaustedly against an ancient oak tree, heaving from exertion, with his head resting in the crook of his elbow and a bloodied sword in his right hand.
A wolf the size of a house bounded into view, crashed through the trees, and then passed out of sight behind some gigantic spruces. Clarinda’s own lupine companions bristled their fur, but remained where they were at her side. So Clarinda started to approach Aurelius but stopped short because she saw that the knight was speaking to another female.
The woman wore a very revealing but insulated hunter’s outfit of forest green and brown, with fitted pants tucked into heavy boots, and an ermine-lined hood pulled back to reveal fine blond-hair that swept diagonally across her tanned cheeks, accentuating high cheekbones and angular features.
What is that woman wearing? She’s half-naked in this weather and Santini’s certainly staying close to her, isn’t he?
As the flash of jealousy burned her face like the blast of a furnace, Clarinda realized that she’d seen this in a vision — she was living an experience from a dream on the Maritina !
Sure enough, the woman’s electric-blue eyes locked onto Clarinda in the same instant that Clarinda sighted her. With amazing speed, the girl raised a yew bow with a broad-headed arrow and loosed it.
Clarinda felt the shaft of the arrow pass through her cloak and something screamed in fury behind her. She was shoved forward just as the wolves started to react, rolled in the snow, and came upward to face what was behind her with quarterstaff swinging.
A pale, black-cloaked figure staggered away and fell backwards onto the snowy earth. Clarinda caught the last part of its transformation from gigantic bat into human form. The dead flesh of its forehead sizzling where the arrow protruded from it, and its form going still.
“A vampyr,” Geri growled. “Skade hit it just as we heard it flying in.” He turned to the woman. “Our thanks, Huntress.”
Skade bowed as Santini rushed forward to Clarinda. The whites of his eyes and teeth flashed pure joy at the sight of her, his emotion disconcertingly at odds with the blood and dirt that covered his body. He paused momentarily at the two wolves, but their seated positions were definitely no threat, so he continued onward to give the Venetian girl a close hug.
“You made it!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know you’d get out of Hel, but...what’s wrong?”
She’d stopped him short with an upraised hand before he could embrace her. She, too, was greatly relieved to see him, even if all that she’d been learning about him from the Norns, Mimir, and Grimnir made it seem as if all the Nine Worlds might be better served by his death than his continued presence. Most immediately, though, was the fact that there didn’t seem to be a part of him not covered in blood.
“Oh, right,” Aurelius said, realizing the same thing and not coming closer with his gore-covered clothing. “It is good to see you, though, Clarinda! This has been…,” He paused, checking emotions that suddenly took his voice from him.
She smiled, and reached out a comforting hand to his shoulder, her voice as warm as she could make it. “It’s a relief to see you, too, Servius. We’ll give each other a big hug when we’ve cleaned up a bit, eh?” She felt that it was a lamely worded promise — and expression of feeling — for a reunion that she’d been thinking about ever since they parted.
Why does nothing ever go as I imagine it when I’m around him?
“I’m...wearing borrowed clothes,” she tried to explain. “Otherwise...a man named Grimnir gave me the cloak and said, ‘it will take care of you, if you take care of it.’”
Aurelius’s eyes widened and he looked again at the wolves.
“Grimnir? Then these wolves are…”
“Hail, Servius Aurelius Santini,” Geri growled. “We’ll bypass any more riddling for the time being, eh?”
Aurelius smiled. “Actually, that was the only bit of fun I’ve had since getting here. Is Grimnir around? You all disappeared too quickly back in Alfheim,” he looked back at Clarinda. “A curious old man, but what I saw of him, I liked.”
“I’ve met him. He was kind to me, too,” Clarinda agreed, thinking about the conversation with the old man as the flames danced off the lagoon at Mimir’s Well. She’d have to tell Santini about aspects of that conversation when they had a chance to be alone.
Ratatosk leapt from a tree to join the group, and the action had two immediate effects. In the first, Skade raised her bow with another arrow nocked, but then didn’t fire, recognizing the animal in the instant before loosing the bolt. Aurelius’s reaction was almost as quick, but he caught the squirrel by its throat in midair and had his falchion at it before Ratatosk identified himself through squealing, fearful stammers.
“Let...me...go…you, idiot!”
“Ratatosk?” Aurelius murmured, releasing the squirrel as the battle rage slowly cleared from his eyes.
“Of course... cough... cough...it’s me, you imbecile!” Its broad tail upright, the squirrel retreated until taking a stance near Geri and Freki. He looked back at Aurelius, brown eyes filled with something not sardonic. “How did you...?”
For a moment, Clarinda was as speechless as the squirrel. Besides the feat of putting Ratatosk at a loss for words, her Urd-side knew that in a purely reactive movement, Santini had just accomplished what no one in the Creation had previously done in the history of the Nine Worlds: he’d successfully captured a Guardian of Yggdrassil, the World Tree.
She made light of the moment, needing to think about it later. “Perhaps, Ratatosk, that’ll teach you to ‘look before you leap,’ eh?” She looked at Aurelius. “I’ve just come from a place called Mimir’s Well,” she said without further preamble. “We need to get you there now before Hela or Old Nick find you again.”
“Your necklace works again?” Aurelius asked, glancing at Skade as if letting her know that he was changing whatever plans they’d been making when Clarinda’s arrival interrupted them.
“Let me see,” she said, reaching forward and clasping his shoulder. She closed her eyes and thought of the grottoes, but when she opened them again, she and the knight remained standing in the bloodstained forest.
Skade stepped toward Clarinda, peering closely at her.
“You’re not a Norn,” she murmured, appraising the Venetian girl, “but you remind me of Urd and you travel with Grimnir’s wolves.” She extended a hand, the action revealing a small triquerta brooch clasping the leather jerkin between her breasts. “I am Skade, Thiazi-Daughter.”
Clarinda took her hand and bowed slightly, impressed by the barely repressed power of the woman. She seemed to be an element of fire, so hotly was her skin glowing in the aftermath of battle.
“I’m Clarinda Trevisan, and
I’m training to be a Norn. Urd says that I’m to take her place soon.”
Skade nodded and raised an eyebrow at Clarinda’s quarterstaff.
“Your weapon is more than it seems, too,” she observed. “It reminds me of a great spear I once saw.”
Clarinda nodded back at the brooch. “And you seem more than familiar with the Norns, if that brooch is any sign.”
Skade smiled. “We’ll survive this, then talk, I think.”
A colossal wolf bounded into the clearing, diminishing in size as it alighted on the permafrost. The animal became a man before her eyes, burly of build, of hairy features, and wearing a cloak of charcoal wolf pelts.
“We need to leave, my friends,” Fenris urged. Then he noticed Clarinda and the wolves.
“Ho, Geri and Freki!” he shouted, his broad face transforming a man with bad news to report into one marked by genuine pleasure at a reunion. “It’s been a long time —” he looked around the glade, “but, where’s Grimnir?”
“Hail, Fenris,” Geri growled. “The pelts of our kindred have grown on your shoulders since we last parted.”
Fenris shrugged. “I was in Hel for too long — some of our kindred forgot the ancient covenants, tried to attack me, and lost their lives.”
“Hail, Fenris,” Freki said. Clarinda introduced herself at this point, and then Fenris reported what he’d seen to the entire group.
“We broke the main body of the Wilde Jagd,” he said, “but the wolves and I think that gasts are massing with more vampyrs, werewolves, and goblins near the Giöll Bridge, awaiting the arrival of Hela herself. A storm is being raised above the tower that will descend soon.”
“Do you think that we can reach the Hvergelmir?” Skade asked, referring to the source of all the waterways in Hel and Niflheim.
“If we move fast, but even then it will be close. The storm is enormous.”
“Mimir told me that I’d meet both of you,” Clarinda said, and she tried to stand erect. “I am Urd-Yet-To-Be, and I request passage to Mount Glittertind through ways you know.”
The Codex Lacrimae Page 36
