“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.
“I just thought you guys were really, really wholesome. Apple pie and all.” I shrugged feebly.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Ull patted my stomach.
“What? It’s not a huge stretch. You
are
wholesome. I’ve never heard you swear.”
Ull raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips to my ear. His cool breath made me shiver when he spoke. “Oh, you will,” he promised.
Images of our imminent honeymoon flashed in my head. Beads of sweat trickled down my neck.
Oh, Lord
.
“Now, Kristia,” Olaug continued in her matronly tone, “the ceremony elevating you to Asgard can happen during your matrimony.”
“How does it work, exactly?” The butterflies in my belly took flight.
“It is fairly simple.” Olaug paused.
Ull listened intently since he didn’t know how the conversion was going to happen either. No mortal had ever been allowed to become a god. I was something of a novelty.
“There will be a bit of prep work beforehand. Idunn will prepare your body for the transition to immortality.” Olaug’s eyes glazed. I sensed there was something she wasn’t telling me, but she moved on quickly. “The formal transformation will occur at your wedding. Odin will raise Mjölnir above your head and sing an incantation affirming your worthiness while calling on the powers of Asgard. You will both give your assent and pledge your fealty to our realm, and it will be done.”
“That’s it?” I was incredulous. I thought for sure there would be spells and blades, the whole
eye of newt
thing. All we had to do was say some words under a hammer?
“Besides the preparation, that is all. Getting Odin’s permission was the hard part. The ceremony itself is relatively simple.” There it was again—that glazed look. I could guess at its meaning.
“Will it hurt?” I wasn’t so good with pain. Flu shots were my undoing.
“Oh.” Olaug chuckled. “I do not think so. No human has ever entered Asgard, so we are not entirely sure how this will go. But it should be fairly easy.”
Talking about pain reminded me of something. “What about, well, fighting? Who’s going to teach me?” Surely Olaug wasn’t expected to cover that, too. I lobbed a hopeful face at Asgard’s fiercest assassin, but he shook his head.
“I do not want you engaged in combat, Kristia. It is too risky.”
“Elfie’s come after me too many times. We both know I’ll get attacked again.”
“Your necklace has protected you in my place. As the Seer, you can channel Mjölnir’s powers through it. I expect you to wear it at all times. And if the creature appears again, I want you to grab that necklace immediately; do not engage him in conversation. Do not ask him any questions. Do not try to fight him. Just grab the hammer, and get out of there.”
“Ull—”
“I mean it, Kristia.” It was a tone I didn’t hear often. But I wasn’t too concerned—I knew Ull’s anger was just a mask for his fear.
I put my hands on both sides of his face. I stared him in the eye and took a deep breath. “I get that you’re scared. I do. I’d freak out if I thought too hard about the things you do when you’re dealing with warrior stuff. I’d be absolutely lost if anything ever happened to you.”
“Kristia—”
“No, listen to me. I want us to talk this out and move on, because we can’t keep coming back to it.” I made sure to keep my voice level.
“Fine. I do not want you fighting.”
“I don’t want me fighting, either. I want us laying on a beach somewhere, sipping fruity drinks and doing something a lot more fun than thinking about the Norse apocalypse.”
“We agree on that.” Ull smiled through his worry lines.
“So we want the same thing?” I traced his cheekbone with my finger. “We just have to figure out how to get there. And before we do, the odds are pretty good someone’s going to come after me again—if not the elf, then someone else who’ll want to use my visions. It’s only a matter of time.”
“What are you saying?” I felt Ull’s jaw tense beneath my hand. I rubbed the muscles with my thumb.
“I’m saying that you have to give me a shot at protecting myself. Or you really might lose me. Forever.”
Ull’s face froze. He held himself perfectly still as a tremor passed through his body. Then he exhaled sharply and grasped both of my hands in his.
“I know,” he whispered. He leaned down so his forehead rested against mine. “I am afraid for you.”