by S. T. Bende
“I will, Ull.” I leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I tell you everything.”
“You had better,” Ull growled. “You gave your word.”
“Small price to pay for an eternity with you.” I kissed him again and his face softened.
“Please do not worry about this creature, Kristia. I will take care of you.”
“I could say the same to you.” I squeezed his hand while he pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. But how could I protect us from Elf Man when I didn’t even know who he was?
Chapter Two
ULL DROVE THE REST of the way to Ýdalir like a man possessed. The English countryside passed in a blur outside the window of the Range Rover. Twice, I pointed out passing speed limit signs, but he ignored me.
“I’m not going to be able to help anyone if you don’t get us to Olaug in one piece. It’s not like ten more minutes are going to kill us.”
“You are awfully bossy today.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.” I bit back my laughter, and even Ull had to hide a smile.
“Fine.” Ull slowed to a slightly less alarming speed, and in no time we passed the sign welcoming us to Bibury. We pulled up the long drive to Ull’s country house. The cathedral of trees ushered us toward the central fountain, where a collection of fish splashed happily. Ull parked, then came around to help me out of the car. It was a relief to stretch our legs after the tense drive.
Ýdalir stood in front of us, the picture of country calm. Nobody would suspect it was home base for Ull, Inga, Gunnar, and Olaug; the Norse deities who opted to masquerade as three college students—and one granny—rather than living in Asgard. The white puffs coming from the stone chimney let me know Olaug was inside waiting for us.
Ull reached out to steady me when I caught my toe on one of the stones in the driveway. It was par for the course—I was hardly the most graceful snowflake in the blizzard.
As we walked toward the cottage, Ull squeezed my hand. I smiled at his long fingers resting against my engagement ring. Its round stones were bound together in a delicate pattern that made it look like lace; sparkly, pristine, exquisite lace.
“I will take care of you, Kristia,” Ull pledged. I tore my eyes off my ring to stare at him. His free hand rested in the back pocket of gently worn blue jeans, and his impressive torso was hidden beneath a grey cashmere sweater. I reached up to stroke the blond stubble that peppered his square jaw, and I couldn’t help but smile at the intensity of his stare. Everything was so serious with Ull.
“You always have.” I stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but he wrapped one muscular forearm around my waist and pulled me into his chest. I felt his firm abdomen against mine one as Ull lowered his head to rub his nose along my jaw.
I shivered at the sensation of cool breath tickling my neck. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too.” Ull trailed his nose to my ear. “And this,” he whispered as he nipped at my earlobe. “And this.” He ran his lips along my neck, planting soft kisses on my collarbone.
My eyes rolled back in my head. I grabbed Ull’s shirt and pulled him close.
“Don’t ever go to Asgard for a whole week again, okay?”
“Okay.” Ull moved his lips up my neck to my chin before settling squarely on my mouth. My hands rose to his hair, and I wrapped my fingers in the tousled, blond strands, holding his face to mine.
“Kristia,” he groaned, pushing me back just when things started to get good.
“That’s what you get when you leave me on my own for seven days.”
“Then I had better go away more often.”
“Mmm.”
Ull brought his mouth down again. He pulled me up with one arm, crushing his lips against mine and spiking my pulse to an unhealthy level. A warm glow settled in the pit of my stomach. Ull gently swept my mouth with his tongue, and the glow erupted into a ball of fire. My hands flew to his shoulders and I pulled him even closer, feeling his heart beat against my chest. Ull’s free hand ran softly down my side, coming to rest just below my hip. He gave a little squeeze and sucked on my bottom lip. My breath shallowed to ragged gasps.
No wonder I didn’t hear the creak of the door.
“Ull! Kristia!”
I jumped at the sound of Olaug’s laughter. Ull cleared his throat as he stepped in front of me, giving me a minute to catch my breath. I tugged on my top while I consciously exhaled. As much as I adored Ull’s almost-grandmother, her timing couldn’t have been worse. But when Ull bent down to hug her, I couldn’t help but smile at the ease between them. There weren’t many people, immortal or otherwise, that Ull could be himself with. Olaug knew him better than anyone—she’d pretty much raised him.
“Hi Olaug.” I gave an awkward wave. With my shirt tucked in and my hair back in place, I could administer a proper greeting. With Olaug here, we’d be able to start my training tonight. Heaven knew I had plenty to catch up on, especially now that Elfie was after me again.
“And look who is with me.” Olaug stepped aside to reveal the gently wrinkled face of the immortal prophet responsible for bringing Ull and me together: my favorite Norn.
“Elsker!” I threw my arms around the tiny woman. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be back in Asgard.”
“I was in Asgard. Spent a few weeks catching up with everyone. But funny thing, after all these years, I got used to this realm.”
“Got used to it? There’s a glowing endorsement,” I teased.
“You know what I mean, silly girl.” She swatted at me. “I like it here.”
“I’m glad.” I laughed. “Does this mean you’re staying?”
“I bought the old Gardner cottage across the Coln.” Elsker beamed. “Odin’s reassigned me to mortal babies in this quadrant, so it makes sense to keep a base here.”
“Does this mean we will see you often?” Ull hugged Elsker gently. His disheveled, blond hair flopped adorably over one eye. Even bent over, his six-foot-five-inch frame positively dwarfed the teensy Norn.
“I hope so. I spent enough time wishing you two would get together.”
Olaug shook her head. “I’m the grandmother. I guarantee I wanted this more than you did.”
“Well.” Elsker waved her hand. “Who’s measuring?”
“You were, you troublemaker.”
“Don’t sass me, old woman.” Elsker wagged her finger and Olaug laughed.
“It doesn’t take a great seer to know you two are going to get into all kinds of messes.” I shook my head.
Ull led me to the table, where Olaug’s famous roast was waiting. “Well, come on, ladies.” He pulled out my chair. “Tell me what I missed while I was away.”
While Olaug and Elsker filled Ull in on the happenings in Bibury, I took in our peculiar little gathering. The God of Winter, his handler/grandmother, the Norn who identified my very odd talent, and mortal—at least, for now—me. We certainly made an unconventional dinner party.
We ate heartily, and after a generous helping of apple pie, Elsker said her goodbyes.
“Come back tomorrow for board games?” I winked when Ull shot me a look. Board games were the one thing he was awful at.
Elsker chuckled. “Much as I would love to, I’m afraid I have to pass. Work waits for no Norn.”
“Will we see you soon?” Ull asked Elsker.
“Probably not right away. I’ve got a fair number of projects. Springtime is big for babies in this realm.” She waggled her eyebrows and pointed at me from behind her hand.
“Elsker!” Did she know something I didn’t? She was a prophet, after all.
“So I won’t see you for a while.” She continued like it was nothing. “But I’ll be at the wedding. Wouldn’t miss it. And I’ll help with your vision training once you’re a full goddess. Thor figured it was best if I was the Norn to get that job.”
“Yay.” I clapped my hands.
“And don’t forget you can call me through your necklace if you need me.”
&n
bsp; “How could I forget that?” My magical necklace had the ability to summon my norn—a little trick that came in handy. I hugged her back before passing her on to Ull.
“Visit whenever you can, Elsker. We love being able to see you.”
“You too, boy.” With a wink at Olaug, she headed into the English night.
“Well, shall we?” Olaug gestured toward the library. It was the entrance to the secret chamber beneath Ýdalir.
“Might as well.” Ull set his jaw. I knew he hated that I was going to be like him; the idea literally immobilized him. And I knew why—he’d seen an immeasurable amount of destruction as an assassin, and he knew changing me would make me vulnerable to attacks from jotuns, and bad elves, and evil sprites, and whatever else lived in the realms I’d only just learned existed. But at the same time, he understood it was the only way to save our worlds—and ourselves.
My fingers grazed Ull’s biceps and I gave him a questioning look. He took a breath. With a nod, he put his hand on the small of my back and guided me down the hall. There was no more putting it off. It was time to learn about my new job as Goddess of Winter.
We entered the library, and Olaug pulled the trigger-book from the shelf. A wall swung open, and we descended the golden-carpeted staircase that led underneath Ýdalir. The walls were paneled with a dark wood and lit with glowing sconces. A single room was nestled at the bottom of the path. There was an open kitchen on the left, well stocked with Ull’s favorite coffees, teas, and snacks, so he could work uninterrupted. Straight ahead was a conference table underneath the enormous screen that beamed transmissions from Asgard. Dark leather couches were off to the right, and a network of laptops and scanners took up the corner space. And lining the far end of the chamber was a homage to Ull’s past—bows, arrows, armor, skis, skates and snowshoes were kept safe in mahogany cases and locked behind glass doors.
This was Ull’s private workspace.
“Ull, are you comfortable being down here while I teach Kristia?” Olaug walked past the kitchen area, glancing over her shoulder as she moved.
“I still do not feel right putting Kristia in danger. And if there were any other option, believe me, I would take it. But somebody is after her—he has been popping into her visions since I came into her life. And he wants to hurt her.” Ull sounded haunted. “I need you to do everything in your power to put her in a position to protect herself.”
Olaug seated herself in one of the leather chairs under Ull’s armor while I made my way around the room, slowly eyeing the unfamiliar objects. Swords, skis, metal helmets… I was too keyed up to sit, knowing I was finally going to learn what my new life would be like.
“Then we have no time to waste.” With that, Olaug started her lesson. “Kristia dear, I do not know what you have been told, so I shall start at the beginning.”
And she did, with the stories I heard in my childhood and the ones I learned throughout my education. But the tales she told were more colorful, warmer, and more personal, and it was clear these mythological characters were real people—Ull’s family, soon to be my own.
“The first rule of Asgard,” Olaug began, “is aldri endre—things never change. The realms are in constant flux, the warriors engaged in perpetual battle, but all of these events were laid out long before our creation. They are premeditated, and in that sense, they are unvarying.
“Things change but they don’t change?”
“Look at the history of our battles. Starting with creation: Odin and his brothers slayed the first jotun, Ymir. His body bled so terribly it caused a flood, killing all but two of the surviving jotun. They repopulated their race, and within years led an uprising against our people. Asgard quelled the insurgence, only to be faced with the first fire giant rebellion. After the fire giants came the dark elves, and so on. There has never been a time of peace in Asgard lasting more than a few hundred years.”
“That seems like a long time,” I pointed out.
“To you, yes.” Olaug shook her head. “But from an immortal perspective, a hundred years passes in the blink of an eye. Our warriors are always training, always preparing for the next fight. In a very literal sense, Asgard can never let down its guard. And there are many who believe this is the way it will always be, simply because The Fates have decreed it.”
My eyes sought out Ull’s. He gave a small nod.
“Now, what was the first rule of Asgard?” Olaug quizzed.
“Don’t talk about Asgard,” I deadpanned.
Ull chuckled.
“The first rule of Asgard is things don’t change,” I amended.
They preached that up and down both ways ’til Sunday like it was Norse gospel. The muscles in my face fought against a simmering eye roll. Like heck things didn’t change. I was walking proof Asgard’s precious prophecies could be turned on their routine-loving heads.
Olaug watched my internal struggle with barely contained glee. “And how do you feel about that rule?”
“It’s as wrong as a rooster in a china shop.”
Ull shot me a glance. “Do you mean a bull in a china shop?”
“Nope. Rooster. Happened once in Nehalem. Well, the dishware section of the general store, but close enough. It was total chaos.”
Ull stared.
“It was just bad all around. And so is this silly rule. No offense. If nothing ever changed, you wouldn’t have come to earth, Ull. We wouldn’t be together. Your dad wouldn’t have agreed to change me. The Norns wouldn’t have picked a human to do a god’s job. Of course things change—that’s just a part of living. Who made up that ridiculous rule, anyway?”
Ull glanced at Olaug. “Odin.”
“Well, he’s dead wrong, bless his heart. According to Asgard, Ragnarok’s going to be the end of us, right? Nothing against your prophets, but I, for one, do not intend to die just because some fortune tellers and your grandpa say so.”
Ull put his hands on my shoulders. The pads of his fingers stroked a firm line to the base of my skull, releasing the tension that built as I made my speech. His hands were amazing. “But you realize it is possible, no? That much as we fight against them, The Fates might know our destinies better than we do?”
I reached over to cup Ull’s face in my hands. The prickle of his five o’clock shadow rubbed against my palms. My eyes caught his in a determined stare—maybe if I looked deeply enough, I could project the confidence I desperately needed him to have in us. “Ull. Did it ever occur to you that sometimes finding your destiny means doing the exact opposite of what The Fates have in store?”
Ull blinked at me. The blue of his eyes narrowed as his pupils dilated, absorbing a message that clearly had never occurred to him. To the consummate rule-follower, bucking the Asgardian system must have sounded stranger than a two-tailed mallard. I squeezed his hands, touching my forehead to his.
“Just think about it,” I whispered.
“She is right.” Olaug nodded. “We have Helheim, Nifhel, Jotunheim, Muspelheim and Svartalfheim fighting against us. Our enemies have attacked before, but never as a unified front. If we are to survive, we cannot afford to act as we always have. Whatever it is that Kristia is meant to be to us, she will be the one to bring about change.”
“I do not like it.” Ull shook his head. “But I know I cannot stop her.”
“No,” Olaug spoke softly. “You can’t.”
Ull wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me to the couch. I curled up against him, letting my hair fall across his chest as I lay my head on the fabric of his sweater. The contrast of hard muscle and soft cashmere was so Ull. It made me calm, despite my nerves.
“Why don’t we tell her more about our relationship, Ull?” Olaug offered.
With his arm slung around me, Ull slid his massive hand over my abdomen. He rubbed slow circles across my flat stomach, resting his chin on the top of my head as he spoke. “Olaug is more than my grandmother. She acts as my link to Asgard. When Svartalfheim attacked the Dark Forest, Odin was hesitant to
allow me to leave the realm. He agreed on the condition that Olaug join me.
“She runs official operations from Ýdalir, and relays messages as needed. Meanwhile I am able to delegate a portion of my duties to colleagues back home, and still tend to the most urgent issues from here. Telecommuting, so to speak.”
“A modern god for a modern time.” My cough poorly disguised my laughter.
“Always glad to be able to amuse you.”
“I love you, Ull.” I gazed up at him.
“Those are just words.” He kissed my forehead. “When I am needed, Odin summons me through Olaug. We installed a portal to the Bifrost when we built Ýdalir.”
“The Bifrost is the rainbow bridge that connects the realms to Asgard.” I remembered.
“Correct. It is guarded by Heimdall. When called, he sends the bridge to the portal so we can return to Asgard, or visit another realm.”
“So you literally walk on rainbows?” My mouth fell open just a little.
Ull shrugged. “It is not a big deal.”
“Says the guy who walks on rainbows,” I muttered. “And doesn’t look a day over twenty. How do you all avoid aging? Is that a genetic god-thing, or do you take a vitamin or something?”
Olaug chuckled. “We eat apples.”
“Pardon?” An apple a day was only supposed to keep the doctor away, not double for the fountain of youth.
“Apples,” she repeated. “Our Goddess of Wisdom, Idunn, formulated a magical apple that slows the aging process. So long as we continue to eat the apples, our progression is delayed over a thousand percent. We do grow older, obviously.” She held out one wrinkled hand. “But as Idunn continues to tinker with the formula, our life expectancies continue to increase. We have not had a god die of old age since she produced her first crop.”
Unbelievable.
“If I eat them do I stay young too?”
“Not as you are. They do not have the same effect on mortals,” Olaug explained.
“Apples. Who knew?” I fingered my necklace.
“Did you never wonder about all the apple pastries around Ýdalir?” Ull asked.
