Chapter Eleven
Millie
I watched the television screen in abject horror.
It had surprised me, removed as they were physically, that they were so in touch with modern innovations. Thrymr had tried to make me as comfortable as possible while preparations for our weddings were underway. My room was huge, with a big canopy bed and an abundance of white gauzy draping. It felt like I was being wrapped in cotton and shoved away from the bustle of castle life.
I’d tossed and turned all night, turning over our encounter in my head, trying to puzzle out where it had gone so disastrously wrong. He’d been gone only a day and I missed him desperately. I’d turned on the flat screen TV, flipping through the channels trying to find something that wasn’t gooey romance. I’d spied his face on the news.
Already that was a bad sign. Freyr had specifically ordered that battles and other engagements with the enemy were supposed to remain as inconspicuous as possible. The news reporter had his hand pressed to his mouth as the chopper that circled the battlefield was struck by lightning. It spun wildly, trailing smoke and finally crashed to earth in a massive shower of sparks. Those who hadn’t died in the impact scrambled from the chopper and into the path of a rampaging were-bear. The last shot displayed on the screen before the footage cut out was Jay and the giantess who had been fighting with him flying through the air and out of sight.
I shot to my feet, but only managed to tangle myself in the netting. I struggled with wads of the stuff, feeling like an insect in a spider’s web. How was I supposed to save Jay, as my first instinct screamed, I couldn’t even escape a canopy bed.
Several minutes later, I managed to squirm my way free and ran for the door. Of course, as my luck would have it, there was someone waiting at the door for me. The giantess had been servant and bodyguard rolled into one, keeping me away from the halls where the wedding preparations were underway. She put herself in my path any time we got close to the castle exit, like she figured I’d bolt if I got the chance.
Her instincts were right on the money this time. The only thought in my head was escape. How did I get out of Jotunheim and into the real world? And from there, how did I go from there to the battlefield in only a few minutes? I was sure that Jay didn’t have even a half hour left if he was facing down Thor, let alone the four hours it would take me to get from Norfolk to Roanoke.
“Lady Mildred, you should be in bed,” she admonished me, giving me a fish-eyed stare. In other circumstances, I might have argued, and told her that I was a grown woman and could go to bed when I wanted.
“I need to talk to Thrymr,” I blurted. Maybe I could ditch her if he was in the throne room. The distance from the entrance and the foyer was about a half mile. In high school, I’d been able to run a six minute mile, and I was sure that I could beat that time now, with Jay’s life on the line. But that still left the whole of Jotunheim to dodge on my way out. Somehow I didn’t think my husband-to-be was about to let me go on a quest to save my boyfriend and possible baby daddy so close to the wedding. What else could I do though? I had to try.
She frowned down at me. “He is currently addressing the court. It would be quite rude to interrupt.”
“I need to speak with him,” I insisted, a new plan beginning to form in my head. If he was in front of his advisors and trusted friends, maybe I could propose a new deal, one that didn’t involve bartering my body and future away. I wasn’t sure what else I had to offer at the moment, but I’d have at least a few minutes to think.
She gave a long-suffering sigh and scooped me up easily. I guess if she had to help me do something stupid, she didn’t want to be slowed by my gimpy pace while we did it. That was fine with me. The sooner we got to Thrymr, the better.
When she finally plopped me down, I was back in the throne room. I’d come to dread this room, with its polished, frost-covered marble. This was the place where I’d agreed to sign away my autonomy. Currently it was half-filled with decorated tables. The semi-circle of giants fell silent as I walked quickly to the base of his throne.
“Lady Mildred,” the king boomed, getting to his feet. “I thought I told you that you could send any concerns with your maid servant.”
“Thor is in Roanoke,” I called loudly. “Your forces are under attack. The last I saw they were being obliterated.”
“It is unfortunate, but I cannot render further aid to your people until our agreement is met.” He said, leaning his head in one hand. I could swear he looked amused at my agitation.
“We can strike a new bargain,” I said. “Let me aid them.”
“No,” the answer was immediate and brutal. “No. This was what I feared when I sent my men with your valet. We will marry as you promised, or I will recall them immediately.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” I seethed, and I was so angry that strands of gold energy crackled between my fingertips like the beam of a taser. The frost around me melted as the air warmed by degrees. “I propose a new deal. I can give you something that you want more than a political marriage or a second-rate Vanir goddess.”
“And what is it I want?” he sneered. His handsome features were twisted in anger. I wasn’t sure exactly why I kept antagonizing him. He could pretty easily crush me. He could kill me by accident, without even making a concerted effort.
What did the king want? Well, I could think of a few things. Gwendolyn, for one. He’d been in a bad mood when he’d had to send the pretty giantess away with Jay. But I was pretty sure bringing up his lover wasn’t a good idea. What else could I get for the Jotun who had everything?
“Thor,” I said, composing myself. “You said it yourself. The last time you tried to marry a goddess it was Thor who ruined everything. Jay told me that Thor has slain more Jotun than any of the other gods combined. Don’t you want to make him pay for that?”
Silence reigned in the hall. I didn’t dare breathe, afraid that he was going to call me on my bluff, scoff at the presumption that a small-fry like myself could ever defeat the god of thunder.
“You would bring us Thor?” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You would deliver him to our justice?”
“I would preface this by saying that he is more useful to you alive than dead, but yes, I will bring you Thor.”
At least, I hoped I could. I had goddess powers, didn’t I? I had used them in the past to heal Jay and get the drop on Loki. Surely, there was more I could do? At least the latter proved that I didn’t necessarily have to be having sex with someone for them to work. It would have been great for Freyr to give me a crash course on how my powers worked. I guess it didn’t matter. If it got me out of Jotunheim and to Roanoke, I’d wing it.
Thrymr considered me for a long moment, chewing his full lower lip. He wore a distant, preoccupied look. “And if you fail? I’d have thrown away a thousand Jotun lives for nothing.”
“I won’t fail.”
I couldn’t afford to.
***
It was a crude comparison to be positive but I was pretty sure I was suffering from my first brain fart in my life. I’d been trying to bully my brain into submission for close to five minutes with nothing to show for it. No golden glow, no ice-melting fury, not so much as a spark. I had been told that the gods could teleport using their magic if they were on the mortal plane. It took too much concentration and magical energy to use all the time, and it was practically impossible to teleport into a magically grounded location like Jotunheim.
Which was why I was sitting outside on a snow-covered mountain top, freezing my ass off. The flimsy cotton dress I’d worn in court had been bad enough, but the armor was worse. It was made for a Jotun child of eight or nine, and shone blue-black in the light of the moon. It seemed to absorb the frosty air, collecting frost as I sat on the cliff’s edge, struggling to force magic to spring from a hidden well inside of me.
“Think,” I muttered. “You’ve done this before. How did you do it?”
I tried to recall what I’d been doing before my magic manifested. It had happened once after sex, which was probably out. I’d flung myself at Loki, power manifesting without forethought. I’d just wanted him to stop attacking Jay. The final time my power had manifested was only a few minutes ago in the throne room, when I’d been denied the chance to save Jay. So, if Jay’s safety was the key, why was nothing happening? Why hadn’t I poofed off the mountain top in a flash of gold light and appeared in Fishburn Park?
Another thought occurred to me then. Jay’s safety hadn’t been the only factor in those scenarios. There had also been the matter of my safety. I didn’t like what that theory said about my motives for saving Jay. Did it mean that I relied on him solely for physical protection, because I myself wasn’t capable?
There might be some truth to that, but I thought it was only part of the reaction. Jay’s death would mean a loss of physical safety, yes. But it would also emotionally cripple me, the way that losing Valerie had nearly killed Jay. That was why my powers activated for him. Losing him would mean losing a part of myself. In dire situations, the brain calls all defenses to bear to keep you alive. It made a certain amount of sense that my powers would only cooperate when I was in danger. My brain had more defenses than most.
Danger was the key to my magic.
I stood, teetering precariously on the cliff’s edge. My heart was beating a tattoo against my ribcage as I contemplated how best to do this. Did I dive headfirst into the void? I’d almost certainly die if I was wrong. Did I step of the edge like I was approaching the end of the high dive at the swimming pool? Did I do a cannonball, make myself smaller as I plummeted toward earth? I drew in a shaky breath and squeezed my eyes shut.
I stepped off the ledge. For a quarter of a second it felt like nothing had happened. Then my stomach lurched and my senses began to scream as gravity caught up with me, dragging me down between the two narrow cliff sides and into the small valley below.
A shrill shriek tried to claw its way up my throat as I fell. Now. Now. Anytime now.
But nothing happened. No golden light enveloped me. Not even a tingle of power shuddered down my spine. The wind whipped my hair up and around me, and I couldn’t see the ground. I knew I’d hit any moment now and there was no way I’d survive the impact, goddess or not. Even if I were lucky enough to hit the river, hitting at this high velocity would feel similar to hitting the ground. I’d pass out from the shock, and then drown in the murky water of the river.
I wasn’t normally the sort to pray. My home life had been pretty devoid of belief, or so my father would have had me believe. I was pretty sure that he prayed to mom every night while I was growing up. Maybe it was time I did, too.
Mom, I thought desperately. Mom, please help me. I don’t know how to do this! Please, I don’t want to die.
I impacted with the ground, and every bit of air whooshed out of my lungs at once. I couldn’t suck in a breath, couldn’t remember how to do so. I knew there should be pain, but all I could register was the burning in my lungs. Air. Where was the air? Black spots hazed my vision, like static on an old television set. A buzzing filled my ears. And then I blacked out.
When I opened my eye,s I was slumped over the table in our tiny kitchenette back in Fairchild. I could smell coffee percolating in the pot, and someone was cooking eggs and a side of bacon. I raised my head a fraction of an inch, staring dumbfounded at the red checkered tablecloth. It was the one from home, alright. The thing was covered in spaghetti stains and cigarette burns.
I raised my head still further and stared around. Had I managed it? Had I somehow managed to transport myself here at the last second? It wasn’t what I’d been aiming for, and put me even further from my goal than I’d been before. Fairchild was days away from Roanoke. Virginia. I wanted to weep. Jay was in danger and I couldn’t even do this one thing right. How had I managed to screw it up so badly? Pale sunlight was peeking through the curtains and bathing the room in light. I hadn’t even been able to get the timing right it appeared.
Tears began to stream down my face. Jay needed me, and I’d let him down again.
“Oh, honey, don’t cry.”
A dainty hand set a plate in front of me. Two eggs, over easy and four slices of bacon, my favorite breakfast combination. I followed the hand up a long, graceful arm and then to the woman it belonged to. It wasn’t the pretty, soft features that told me who I was staring at. I’d gotten my dad’s face. His pointy chin, his nose. It was the hair. It was the precise shade of red. Not quite the gingery-orange color that most people were used to, but a metallic sheen that resembled copper more than anything else. When she turned to face me, by breath caught. Her eyes too, were just like mine.
She gave me a small, sad smile. “You should eat your breakfast. We won’t have much time to talk.”
I picked up my fork from the table and speared an egg. After all, when you pray for your dead mom to turn up and help you and she actually shows, it’s kind of poor manners not to listen to her.
She sat down in the chair beside mine, folding her hands primly in her lap. She was dressed in the faded floral apron that dad had tucked away in the back of our linen closet and had forbidden me to use. It had a huge burn on the front, evidence of some cooking mishap or another. Maybe she was like me, and only knew how to make a dish or two.
“How are you here?” I whispered. I didn’t know why I bothered. There was no one to hear us.
“More accurately, you’re here with me,” she said, waving at the kitchen. “This is Limbo, dear. The location is entirely in your head.”
“Limbo?” I echoed. “Like purgatory? Am I dead?”
Freya shook her head. “Not yet. You might, if something isn’t done for you quickly. You can’t allow that to happen. After what you did to Hel, you’d suffer for eternity in agony.”
I winced. That hadn’t been a dream then. I really had pissed off the gatekeeper to the Norse underworld. “What do you propose I do about it? I can’t figure out how to use my magic. Thanks for hiding me from anyone who could teach me, by the way. It really helped.” A nasty edge had crept into my voice by the end. After my initial relief, the hurt crept up to take its place. She’d left me when I was only a few years old. I didn’t even have fuzzy, half-formed memories of a mother’s warm embrace. She’d abandoned my father and I, and had never looked back.
She plunked an apple down on the table and began to peel it slowly. I glared at her. Where was the remorse? Freya let the crisp golden skin fall onto the table in a neat spiral. She began slicing it carefully before she spoke.
“Your powers were never supposed to manifest, dear. If you’d found a human man, in a human town, you would be safe right now.”
“Safe?” I snorted. “I wouldn’t have been safe. I would still have been in a war-zone. A war you started, by the way. You didn’t have to start a civil war over me. I’m not worth that.”
Freya looked up from the apple finally, and the reproving look actually made her look more maternal. She was frozen forever in the bloom of youth. Most people who saw us side by side would probably peg her as my older sister. But that look was one I’d seen mothers give their kids all their lives. It was the look that said you’d just said or done something plum stupid.
“Of course, you’re worth it,” she said, and carefully plucked the core from the middle of the apple. She set it atop the skin and stared at me. “You’ve been aware of your status for only a few days, and look where you are now. My fool brother sent you to marry a man you could never love in order to secure an alliance. I wanted more for you than alliances and petty friends. The life of a mortal woman was better for you.”
“It would have happened, anyway, wouldn’t it? You’re a fertility goddess. My powers activated with sex.”
She shook her head, pointing one of the apple slices at me. “If you’d lost your virginity in high school with a mortal boy, you’d never have known. It was performing the act with your first love and to have him be a Norse were-bear of all things.” She rolled her eyes. “I suppose it can’t be helped now. You need to be getting back. You have a battle win, don’t you?”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Fresh tears sprang into my eyes. I felt small and stupid. I still had no clue how to defeat Thor. I was probably dying alone in the Blue Ridge Mountains, waiting for a bunch of giants to discover the results of my attempt to fly.
She stood, rounding the table and pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t ever remember a mother’s embrace. Was it always this warm? Did they always imbue the recipient with a feeling of calm reassurance? Did everyone’s mom smell like apple pie? She gave my cheek a firm kiss before she pulled back, holding me at arm’s length. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners when she smiled, just like dad’s.
“My brave, beautiful girl. You’re going to be just fine. Let love guide you, not fear. I’ll help you along the way.”
She let go of me and turned around, reaching for the coat rack by the door. There was something there among the familiar jackets and hoodies, something I’d never seen before. My first absurd thought was that a bird had exploded all over the piece of cloth. Black, brown, and white feathers coated the garment in glossy waves. Freya draped it over my shoulders and fastened it with her own broach.
She gave me a pleased smile. “There. That should do the lion’s share of the work for you this time around. When you see Freyr again, give him a swift kick in the pants for me, will you? He ought to know better than to throw a hatchling out of the nest. You don’t know how to fly yet.”
“If I survive the battle,” I said, watching her pace away to retrieve something from the kitchen cabinets. “If I survive the fall.”
“When you survive both, don’t let him push you around. It’s your life, Millie. Make your own choices. Make good ones.”
She handed me a Ziploc baggie full of apple slices. “Eat these. The magical backlash should give you enough power to you to make the jump to Roanoke.”
She reached down into the seat where dad usually sat at the table and withdrew a battered helmet. She slotted it down over my head. “You’ll need this. I’m sure your father won’t mind parting with it for now.”
“Wait,” I whispered. “I still have so many questions.”
“Ask your father, dear,” she said with a light laugh. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”
She pushed me toward the door. If I’d truly been in my home in Fairchild, it would lead me to the dark stairwell between the garage and our flat. Instead, it was a void. When I turned back, the shining kitchen and the ghost of my mother had both disappeared. I shivered. It was cold, and my entire body ached.
I opened my eyes, and even that hurt. The feather cloak on my shoulders was the only thing that kept me from sinking back into the black oblivion to escape the pain. If the cloak was there, that meant that the apples were as well. I nearly screamed when I made the attempt to lift my arm. My vision went white again, and I tried not to vomit. The bone hadn’t exactly punctured the skin, but I could see where it had broken. In the end I had to flop the baggie onto my chest and tear the damn thing open with my teeth. Every jerk of my head sent spikes of agony through my neck and back, but I eventually managed to get the first of the slices into my mouth.
I chewed furiously, not really tasting the fruit. One slice, two. On the third, a buzzing sensation washed through my body, making me feel tingly and warm. I could see why Loki had compared Idun’s apples to alcohol now. And I could sort of see why the gods were all fighting. They were million year old lushes suddenly forced into sobriety.
My skin began to glow as I ate the fourth and fifth pieces. I tried to remember exactly what my mother had said. The magical backlash would send me where I needed to be, if I just ignored the fear. I bit savagely down on the last piece of apple and thought furiously, fixing Jay’s kind, handsome face in my mind’s eye.
Take me to him. I’m claiming my mate.
My vision flashed gold. I was weightless for an indefinite amount of time, and then I was falling toward the ground once more. Wait, no, I wasn’t exactly falling. I was descending toward an unfamiliar landscape, but slowly. The cloak around me slowed the descent, so that when we reached the ground I alighted on a massive boulder. The big man paused mid-swing, about to send another volley of lightning at a group of cowering werewolves.
Color seemed to drain from his face as he caught sight of me standing tall, unharmed and still shining from my recent dose of Idun’s secret sauce. I knew what I must look like to him now; with my mother’s cloak flapping around my shoulders, frost giant armor on my arms, legs, and chest, my father’s helmet jammed down so only my eyes were visible.
“Freya,” he whispered.
“That’s right, bitch,” I snarled, modulating my tone to mimic the echo of my mother’s. “I’m back.”
And then I attacked.