Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (53 page)

“You’re asking me to bring Loke, the god of chaos, to reason,” Arvid said. “This task is impossible.”

“Just try!” Hel asked insistently, almost desperately.

“It’s too late,” whispered Arvid. “Even if there was a chance… I’d never reach him in time.”

“I know a way,” Hel said. “With my help, you will manage.” She took Arvid’s hand. “I beg you, try it!”

Arvid was silent. Lost in thought, she pushed up the sleeve of her coat and ran her fingers over the scar on her arm. The scab had now fallen off entirely. Inside the scars the silvery lines of soul gem dust were shining, which bound her life to Loke’s. When Loke died, her life would end, too, but the thought didn’t frighten her. When Loke died, what was left for her? The way back into her world, back to her mother would be destroyed forever, and the thought of having to stay here in the Shadow World forever, without being able to see Loke again, caused her anguish.

They just sat there, surrounded by absolute silence. Arvid felt her fingers getting cold under Hel’s touch. It reminded her of last night. Loke had been so tender, so loving. These feelings were part of the chaos, too. She mustn’t make the same mistake again, thinking that Loke didn’t care about her, even if it was incredibly hard to believe after the past few hours.

Arvid remembered Loke’s last words before he left, and the thought gave her a painful sting. He didn’t believe he was loved. He didn’t understand it. Arvid could tell him that she loved him as many times as she wanted, he wouldn’t believe her—not really. But if her words couldn’t convince him, then what?

Suddenly Arvid realized that it was her turn to make a decision, and it was perhaps the most difficult she ever had to make. It was the decision between the two things that meant the most to her: her home and her mother—and Loke.

Arvid missed her home. But she wasn’t just a daughter anymore. She was a goddess, a princess. She was Loke’s wife. She was the one that loved him, unconditionally, whatever his flaws, despite the darkness in his soul.
We see the beauty in chaos, we don’t drown in it
, her father had once said to her, and it was true. Even though Arvid couldn’t put the fragments of Loke’s broken soul back together the way they had once been, she knew that she could create something new. There was only one question that remained: Was she willing to endure all the pain that came with it?

Deep down she knew the answer.

Arvid squeezed Hel’s hand and looked at her. “Then help me,” she said firmly. “I will stop Loke.”

Several hours later, they reached the labyrinthine passages of the caves just beneath the surface, which were of partly natural origin. Arvid was disoriented, but Hel led her on with instinctive certainty, through vaults and past intersections and junctions. Finally, they rounded a final bend. A round of dulled starlight was right in front of them. An icy breeze hit them and almost tore Arvid’s hood from her head.

It was a strange feeling to step out into the crisp snow on the surface after all this time. The sky was only partially covered, though the wind carried hard frozen snow, which stung in their faces. The air was freezing and smelled unusually fresh.

Arvid pulled her cloak tighter and turned on the spot. They seemed to be surrounded by nothing but an endless, closed layer of snow.

Arvid looked over to Hel, who took a thick, slightly curved horn from her belt, put it to her lips and firmly blew into it. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then Arvid noticed a thin sound, barely perceptible over the howl of the wind. It was a kind of whistle that only broke off when Hel lowered the horn again.

“And now?” Arvid asked, shivering. They had only just stepped out of the cave, but she was already freezing.

“Now we wait,” Hel said. “It might take a while until he gets here.”

“Until who gets here?”

“Fenrir,” Hel said. “He’ll help you if I ask him to.”

Arvid hesitated. She knew that name. It was one of Loke’s children and thus probably Hel’s brother—or half-brother. Loke had told her the names of his children, but she had never asked him how many mothers or fathers there had been.

Endlessly they stood there and waited. Arvid stepped from one foot to the other, trembling from the cold, even though she had put on her warmest clothes and was wearing gloves, a coat and her cloak. In the weeks she had spent in the underground, she had almost forgotten how much colder it was on the surface of the Ice Wastes.

“Did you ever tell Loke about what I said to you down at the Black Waters?” Hel asked eventually.

Arvid took a moment to follow her, then she remembered. Hel had told her that her soul was no longer alone and that Loke knew what that meant. She had wanted to tell him, but there had never really been an opportunity to do so.

“No,” confessed Arvid. “I forgot.”

Hel nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything anyway.”

“What did you mean by that?” said Arvid. “What does that mean, my soul is no longer alone?”

Hel smiled. “It means that you are carrying a new life,” she replied. “When you were staying at my house, its soul was no more than a hint, but it has already grown stronger.”

Arvid felt as if someone pulled the rug out from under her. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

“You mean, I… I’m pregnant?” she asked in disbelief. “That’s impossible! After our wedding Loke was… He was a giant.”

“And yet it is so,” said Hel. “It’s rare, but children between humans and giants are possible. Very often, however, the pregnancy ends after a short time.”

Arvid instinctively put a hand on her belly. She was carrying Loke’s child, the child of a giant. The thought caused her dizziness. Just the day before she had been thinking about this and wondered if she was ready for something like that. She should have been shocked, frightened, but she wasn’t. All she knew was that she now had another reason to do everything in her power to keep Loke from a fatal mistake.

Hel’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “He’s coming,” she said.

Arvid raised her head and looked around, but couldn’t see anyone. Then she looked over to Hel, followed her gaze and frowned. There was a movement, barely visible against the white background of the endless expanses of snow. First Arvid couldn’t properly grasp what it was, but then suddenly she saw it. Startled, she jumped so violently that she stumbled.

It was a wolf, a huge, snow-white wolf, whose body almost blended in with the landscape. He moved silently through the snow, quickly and smoothly. When he reached them, his eyes were almost on the same level as Hel’s. His ears twitched restlessly.

After Fenrir had briefly sniffed the giantess, his head suddenly turned in Arvid’s direction. Instinctively, she backed away a few steps. The mere size of this being filled her with deep respect.

“Who are you?” the wolf growled. The deep, rumbling sounds could hardly be recognized as words; still, there was no doubt—this gigantic being spoke to her.

“I’m Arvid of Isvirndjellen,” she replied firmly, but hastily stepped back further as Fenrir’s snout suddenly came closer.

“She’s Loke’s new wife, Fenrir,” Hel said aloud.

To Arvid’s relief the huge animal turned away from her again.

“Father left for Asgard yesterday,” Hel continued. “Arvid must catch up with him at all costs.”

Fenrir gave a muffled growl. “Why?” he asked. It obviously caused him difficulty to form words.

“He plans to do something that could lead to great suffering and wipe out many lives,” Hel said. “Thousands.”

“In my lands?” asked Fenrir.

“Possibly. I don’t know what exactly he is planning to do, but it is of great importance that Arvid stops him.”

“This woman?” Fenrir’s piercing white eyes stared at her intently. “Weak,” he growled. “She can’t.”

“I don’t want to fight him,” Arvid said. “I want to talk to him and convince him that what he is doing is a mistake.”

“He won’t listen,” said the giant wolf.

“It’s the only option we have,” Hel said. “None of us can oppose our father’s power. Words are all we have. We cannot stand by idly as he again commits a devastating mistake.”

“If Loke does what he’s up to, his life is forfeited,” Arvid said desperately. “Every god of Asgard will want his death, and there will be nothing and no one left to stop them.”

Fenrir let out a throaty growl. “And what do you want from me, woman?”

“Please take me to Asgard,” Arvid said. “There are many lives at stake; your father’s may be one of them.”

“Fenrir,” Hel said, “Loke is traveling as a phantom wolf. It will be hard to catch up with him, but maybe you can make it.”

“I can,” Fenrir said, then sat down in the snow in front of them. “Hurry, woman.”

Suddenly everything went very quickly. Before Arvid knew it, Hel had lifted her up onto Fenrir’s back. Arvid had just enough time to cling to his thick fur, then he got up and leaped off, so nimble and quick that for a moment Arvid was scared she would slip from his smooth back.

Fenrir presented a mind-bending speed. Objects protruding from the snow only appeared for a split second and were gone again. After a while, the sky began to darken and a curtain of tiny, hard flakes began to fall.

The first hour Arvid focused entirely on not losing her grip. After some time she felt some spots in the matted fur, where something like loops had formed. Although she slipped down a bit, she managed to slide her legs through them, so she was securely seated.

Arvid regretted not having had time to ask Hel about Fenrir. Was he really a wolf, or a shapeshifter like Loke? She didn’t dare to ask him herself. Even though he helped her, even though he was Loke’s son, he intimidated her a lot.

“A lot has happened in my life,” Loke had said to her that night, when he suddenly had started crying—the only tears Arvid ever had seen Loke cry. Only now Arvid realized, how much it actually was and how infinitely small the part she knew. “You’re too young to understand this, too innocent.” Yes, compared to Loke she was. How could she grasp and understand the life of a being who had lived for so long? Arvid suddenly believed she had an idea of why Loke captured his pain and his experience in embroidered pictures.

After several hours, she fell into a dull doze. When she woke up again at some point, the landscape around them had changed. Fenrir was still running at a barely slower pace, making his way through an area full of rocks and hard, stony ground, which only here and there was broken by spots of brownish grass. From time to time there was a single tree to be seen, naked and almost black, and in the shadows of the larger boulders lay small, round rugs of glittering snow.

Stunned, Arvid found that Fenrir was no longer white but brownish gray, just like their environment. She looked down on his back and the swaying tail, which had also adopted a darker color. The fur was slightly gleaming in the dim light, covered by a barely visible, billowing, flowing movement.

The day passed. Evening came, without Fenrir stopping a single time. Arvid was exhausted, although she had fallen into a light sleep twice. Just when she thought she could bear it no longer, Fenrir suddenly slowed his steps and finally stopped in the shelter of a large rock. There was a collection of miserable trees and bushes and a brook, which hardly earned the name. It was more of a trickle across the rocky ground, forming a larger puddle at one point.

Fenrir tightly pressed himself against the rock and let Arvid climb off his back. She almost fell over when her stiff legs suddenly gave way under her weight, so she sat down on the spot and rubbed her numb limbs.

“I’m seeking food, woman,” growled the giant wolf. “We will have to leave again soon.” Again Arvid noticed how hard it seemed to be for Fenrir to form intelligible words.

“Go ahead,” she said uncertainly. “I’ll wait here. I have bread.”

Fenrir’s muzzle came a little closer and sniffed, then he turned around and ran away. Arvid watched him, spellbound, as he almost seamlessly merged in with the surroundings. His fur always seemed to have the exactly same shade as the stones and soil around him, so that she lost sight of him after a moment.

Arvid ate a piece of her bread, but with little appetite. After a while, the numbness in her arms and legs subsided, but now she started to freeze in the icy wind. Fenrir’s fur had kept her warm, but now, up here on the rock, she could clearly feel how cold it was.

She climbed down and found a spot with fairly soft ground, where she lay down and covered herself with her cloak. She didn’t know how far their way was, but as long as she was sitting on Fenrir’s back, she wouldn’t be able to get any restorative sleep.

Had Loke already reached Asgard? Would she come too late, and was Loke already about to put his plan into action? At the thought her heart began to pound with fear. Fenrir was fast, incredibly fast, but as Hel had said Loke was traveling in the form of a phantom wolf, too. By now Arvid was sure that this was exactly what Fenrir was: a wolf who could blend in with its environment, unseen, suddenly emerging out of nowhere, like a phantom. Were there more of his kind in the far reaches of the Wastes?

Arvid was startled when she was roughly shoved and torn from confused dreams. When she looked up, she gave an anguished cry, then she realized that it was only Fenrir’s huge snout directly in front of her. A hot, fetid breath hit her, then a muffled growl could be heard. “We have to go.”

Arvid felt anything but recovered. A glance at the sky told her that it had to be in middle of the night. Still, she knew they couldn’t waste any time, and so they quickly continued their journey.

Soon Arvid saw a glinting river in the distance. It had to be the White River, which meant that they had crossed the border to Jördendheim some time ago. When Arvid thought back to the maps she had seen in the past, they must already have most of their way behind them. Fenrir was so fast, it was not impossible that they would reach Asgard in the early evening. The thought filled Arvid with some relief, but she was also afraid of what awaited her there.

Gradually, the landscape became more friendly and more densely populated. In the distance Arvid could see houses, villages, and even a city once. She saw planted fields, paths and roads, but Fenrir paid close attention to not getting too close.

Here in the south it was evident that it was summer, even if it was slowly coming to an end. Yellow and green prevailed, ripe, dry grain, tightly draped with deciduous forests and trees, and meadows speckled with flowers where sheep, cows and horses were grazing. Twice they crossed a river. When they eventually reached the crest of a large, semi-wooded hill, the Temple City was suddenly in front of them.

Arvid was amazed and pushed herself up from Fenrir’s back to get a better view. The city was still far away, but already from here it was evident that it was incredibly large, a city surrounded by another city. It was so brightly lit, it gave the impression that the buildings themselves were huge star lamps. An incredible number of terraces and towers and pointed roofs towered up like an artificial mountain of white crystal, crowned with something that looked like a castle. The sight was breathtaking. Arvid suddenly understood a little better why people wanted to come here.

Only now she paid attention to the outer Temple City. Compared to Asgard it looked small, almost shabby, even though it was not. The populated area was circular and surprisingly large, but divided into cloud-shaped clusters of houses huddled around towering buildings. They were brightly lit and decorated with colored pennants. This had to be the temples that gave the town its name. A snow-white wall and a strip of open ground separated it from Asgard.

From here the wall looked unimpressive, but when Arvid thought about how far away they still were and how small the houses beside it looked, it had to be gigantic. She couldn’t help wondering if it would be possible to overcome this wall. Somehow, she doubted she would simply be able to walk through a gate.