Endre (Elsker Saga Book 2) (19 page)

“Darling.” Ull sounded groggy. “Are you having wedding jitters?”

“No, I’m fine.” It was such a relief to hear his voice. I was more shaken than I wanted to admit. “But you have to check on Olaug. Can you reach her?”

“I am not calling my grandmother at three in the morning.”

“Ull, she’s sick. Or she’s going to be. We were wrong—Elfie isn’t after me. He’s after Olaug.”

“What are you talking about?” Ull sounded more alert. “She cannot get sick.”

“I know that. The elf did it, he cast some kind of spell or something, and she’s going to get some magic disease. The only way to make her better is to destroy him, but I tried and even though he disappeared I don’t think he’s really gone.”

“Kristia Tostenson, when did he show up again?”

“Just now. He was in my room when I woke up.”

“And did you use your necklace right away like I told you?”

“About that.” I chewed on my lip. “It was sort of in another room. I was cleaning it overnight—you know, for the wedding.”

“Sweetheart!” Ull’s frustration rang through the phone.

“Well, it was dirty! I couldn’t very well get married wearing a dirty necklace, now, could I? Besides, I got to it in time. It did the whole light-shooting thing again and it looked like it sliced him up pretty good. But then he just disappeared. I don’t know where he went.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“A little,” I admitted. “But I’m okay. Really.”

“That is it. I am coming over there.” I could hear the rustling of clothes.

“No!” I panicked. “It’s bad luck for us to see each other the night before our wedding.”

“Do you really think I am concerned with a mortal superstition at a time like this?”

“You should be. Divorce rates are high these days, and considering the odds are stacked fairly well against us to begin with—”

“Sweetheart.” I could hear Ull’s smile through the phone. “Except in very extreme circumstances, Asgardians do not divorce. We mate for life. And since you will become one of us tomorrow, it is not something you will need to worry about either. I am coming over.”

“Well, I’m still a human today. Tonight. Whatever. And I’m sticking to this. You can’t see me until we’re at the church. Period.”

Ull sighed. “I need to know that you are all right.

“I’m fine. Honest.” A little shaken up. Maybe a little bruised. But nothing a good night’s sleep with my necklace firmly in its rightful place wouldn’t fix.

“I do not believe you.”

“Remember, you promised to start trusting me.”

“Touché, Miss Tostenson. Or may I call you Mrs. Myhr?”

“Not for another couple of hours.” My brain was too tired to do the math. “But I would feel better if you checked on Olaug.”

“I will call you back in five minutes.” With that he hung up.

Precisely four minutes later my mobile rang. “Is she okay?” I answered breathlessly.

“She was. Until I called and woke her up. Now she is mad at me.”

“Sorry. But isn’t she sick?”

“No. She had no idea what I was talking about, either. She said nobody had cast any spells on her. She is the pinnacle of physical health, thanks in large part to a strict regimen of, her words now,
good food, brisk walks, and regular sleep
.”

“Oh.” I was stumped. “Then what did the elf mean?”

“He was probably just trying to get into your head.”

“Maybe.” That didn’t make sense. Why would he want to play mind games before he tried to kill me?

“Are you sure you do not want me to come over?”

“Positive.”

“Are you wearing your necklace now?”

The threat was clear. If I answered wrong, I knew I’d have a large Adonis on my doorstep. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Try to get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“You can be really bossy, you know that?”

“I do. But it is for your own good.”

“In your dreams.” I laughed.

“I shall see you at the church.” Ull’s voice sounded husky.

“I can’t wait,” I whispered. For a lot of reasons, morning couldn’t come fast enough.

THURSDAY, THOR’S DAY TO
the Norse party, dawned foggy and cool. It was just like so many of my days in Cardiff, and I couldn’t imagine it any other way. How was it already time to say goodbye to this place? Cardiff was where my life truly began; it was where I fell in love with Ull. And now we could be together forever—literally.

But first, there was one teensy detail to take care of.

“Are you ready?” Inga asked when she picked me up. She wore a hot-pink terry sweat-suit and pale-pink Uggs, and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just not used to casual Inga. I like it.” I placed the large garment bag across the back seat. The dress was our cover for our morning outing. We’d told my friends we were going to have it taken in one final time before the wedding. In actuality, we were doing an adjustment of an entirely different nature. I fastened my seatbelt and Inga started her car.

“It’s early,” she huffed. “And I used all my energy kicking the boys out of the house this morning. Ull did
not
want to miss being there for your transformation prep. I told him we were just doing superficial girly stuff to get you ready for the wedding—hair, and nails, and waxing, you know? But he was still worried about you. Made me promise to call him if you seemed even the slightest bit stressed out about being changed. I practically had to wrestle him into Gunnar’s car. I didn’t have any time left for fashion.”

“Please. You look amazing. You always do.”

“Oh.” Inga adjusted her rear-view mirror as she sped through the streets of Cardiff. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” I fiddled with the wrists of my sweater.

“How are you feeling?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t have to go through with this.” She shot me a sideways look.

“I want to go through with it,” I insisted. “I love Ull more than anything, and I want to be with him for a hundred lifetimes. But that doesn’t make crossing over any less scary. Are you sure it’s not going to hurt?”

“Well…” Inga nibbled on her bottom lip; something else I’d never seen her do.

“Oh my gosh. You guys aren’t sure! That’s why you made Ull leave!”

“We’re not a hundred percent sure,” Inga admitted. “I mean, we’ve never exactly done it before. But we don’t
think
it’ll hurt. Why should it hurt? It’s just a transference of matter, and a mutation of brain cells that—”

“You’re doing what to my brain cells? Olaug didn’t say anything about that.” I pulled so hard at my sweater that I heard a small rip.

“Relax.” Inga rolled her eyes and steered swiftly into a space in front of her flat. “It’s going to be super easy.
We think
,” she muttered under her breath.

“I heard that.” I shoved my thumb through the new hole in my sweater and made a fist.

“Don’t be a weenie. Come on.” She marched toward the house. I followed behind, wobbling like the seniors in Mormor’s bridge club after one too many egg-salad sandwiches. I was suddenly super queasy.

“
Hei hei
, Kristia,” Olaug greeted me from inside. “Happy wedding day.”

My anxiety ebbed. Whatever else happened, this day would end with a wedding.

“I get to marry him today.” I looked at Olaug’s shining eyes.

“You get to marry him today.” She beamed back at me. “Let’s just do one little thing first.”

“You lied to me. It’s going to hurt.”

“I won’t let it.” She took my hand and walked me down the hall. Ull’s bedroom had been set up like a laboratory. Heavy white tapestries hung over the windows and his furniture was pushed to the walls. A stainless steel table stood in the corner, holding a range of tubes, vials, and three disconcertingly large needles. In the center of the room stood one high-backed chair with straps on the armrests.

I felt lost as last year’s Easter egg.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. My eyes were locked on the restraint-laden chair.

“It’s just a precaution,” Inga pleaded. “We don’t know what to expect.”

I took a deep breath. “Right.”

“You don’t have to do it, Kristia.” Olaug stood directly in front of me, shaking her head.

“Yes, I do.” I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured standing at the altar with Ull. I wanted to go through with this—for us. “It’s just…”

“I know.” She squeezed my arm and helped me into the chair.

“So what happens now?” I closed my eyes as Olaug snapped the arm restraints into place.

“Idunn will prep you.” Inga came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.

“Idunn, Goddess of Wisdom, Idunn?” My eyes flew open.

“One and the same.” An absolute vision walked into the room. The woman was dressed head-to-toe in white, with thick brown hair and piercing blue eyes. She crossed to the steel table and put on a pair of surgical gloves. “Sorry I’m late, I was just washing up.”

“
Hei
,” Olaug greeted at the goddess.

Inga nodded nervously. “Hey.”

“Morning,” I croaked.

“Ladies,” Idunn responded with a smile. She picked up one of the vials and came to stand beside me. After pouring the liquid onto a cotton ball, she dabbed at my temples. I sucked in a sharp breath.
That burned
.

“It’s okay. The stinging will pass quickly.” Idunn was right. She crossed back to the table and swapped the vial for another, repeating the procedure on my throat and wrists. She moved with the assurance of someone who’d done this a hundred times before, though of course that couldn’t be.

“So, you work as a surgeon?” I asked hopefully.

“No. We don’t have surgeons in Asgard. We never get sick.” Idunn swiped one last cotton ball between my eyes and patted my hand. “But I am the realm’s most gifted horticulturist. I develop the apple hybrids that foster our eternal youth.”

So Asgard’s top plant doctor was about to operate on my brain. Brilliant.

“I also trained at Harvard’s medical school a few years back at Odin’s insistence. He takes the Ragnarok prophecy very seriously, and wants to make sure we’re prepared for all eventualities. My specialty was neurosurgery.”

Well that made me feel a little bit better.

“Relax, Kristia. This will be over before you know it.” Idunn picked up one of the needles and drew out the contents of one of the tubes.

“Right.”

“Would it help if I explained the procedure to you?” she asked.

“Sure.” Not that it mattered, one way or the other. I was absolutely going through with this—an eternity with Ull was worth anything the good doctor could throw at me. But I shot an accusatory glance at Olaug. She’d left out some key bits. Like my brain being injected with giant needles.

“In layman’s terms, I’m going to take some of the matter out of your brain and replace it with cells from Inga’s cerebellum.”

“That’s the part that’s responsible for my lack of grace, right?” I stared at Idunn.

“It’s the region that oversees motor control.” Idunn nodded.

“So if I’m getting some of Inga’s motor skills… wait, you donated brain cells for me?” I turned to Inga.

She shrugged. “What are friends for?”

Idunn stood in front of me. “After I inject the cells, I’ll transfer nine units of gardium into your hypothalamus. That’s the ‘god gene’ we’ve been developing for you.”

“The god gene,” I mused. A genetic Higgs-boson.

“Yes. And it will sit dormant until Odin activates it. That’s the second part of the process. I do the science, he does the magic. When Odin calls on Mjölnir, it’ll be like a car getting a jump-start. The synapses will connect and your immortal existence will begin.”

“When will my… uh, mortal existence end?” I asked.

“When I remove the matter from your brain. The transference of Inga’s cells for yours will be quick, but for that brief moment you will technically be brain-dead.” Idunn spoke matter-of-factly.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, Kristia. I performed over a hundred brain surgeries during my time as a neurosurgeon. And I never lost a patient.”

“But did you ever deliberately kill one to make her immortal?”

“Well, no,” Idunn admitted. “But no matter. I’m not going to tarnish a perfect record.”

“Wait. When you… take stuff out of my brain… is there any chance I could lose my visions?” A lot was riding on my being able to see stuff after I was changed. Important stuff. Like how to save the cosmos as we knew it.

“Oh, not at all. I will be removing matter from your cerebellum. Your visions operate from another region of your brain,” Idunn explained.

“Oh.” I wanted to ask more, but my throat went dry when Idunn approached with the enormous needle.

“Let’s get started.” She raised the syringe.

“Are you going to knock me out first?” I bleated.

“It’s better if I don’t. I need a clear scan on your brain waves, and that’s going to be tough if you’re unconscious.” Idunn blinked.

I grabbed Inga’s arm and pulled so her ear was level with my mouth. “If I don’t make it, tell Ull I loved him.”

“Stop it,” she hissed. But I could see the fear in her eyes.

“How’d you get Ull to agree to this?” I whispered.

“I told you. He has no idea what we’re doing,” Inga admitted. “He thinks your ‘prep’ involves an intense beauty ritual. Exfoliating and stuff.”

“So he doesn’t know about the…” My eyes shifted to the table full of needles and tubes.

“No.” She shook her head. “He’d never have agreed to let it happen. Should I have told him?”

I thought about it. On the one hand, I’d pledged complete honesty in everything I did. Ull wanted what was best for me, and if he would have stopped this from happening maybe it was too risky after all. But on the other hand, this was the only way Ull and I had a shot at surviving Ragnarok. If I stayed human, my visions would be useless to the gods and we’d all be goners anyway. No matter how scary it was, this had to happen.

“No. You were right not to tell him. But you know he’s going to be furious if he ever finds out.” I lay my head against the back of the chair, imagining Ull’s overreaction to the news that I’d let some goddess I’d never met inject me with Inga’s brain cells. “Listen, I’m going to be brain-dead. And I know that’s not a huge deal when you’re immortal, but I’m not there yet. And on the off chance Idunn slips—”