And how blessed was I? I actually had people in my life that would go to such lengths to help, to put their lives on the line just for me. Gone were the times when I was so lonely, so adrift, without an anchor to hold to me in place. Here in Asgard I had found happiness and security at last.
Joshua still lurked in the passage, his face distorted by shadows. I sent him a tiny, annoyed wave. He should have been the one ready to sacrifice himself for me, to come along and protect me. If Joshua had offered, I wouldn't have wasted a second hesitating. I would've jumped at the opportunity. I almost clicked my tongue, annoyed with myself for being annoyed with Joshua. So many things had happened in the last few weeks for both of us—not all of them good.
Was Joshua still a little mad at me? Surely he'd gotten over my stupid loss of control during our stupid sword-practice session. We hadn't talked about it since it had happened. I'd just wanted to forget about that strange surge of power that had flooded my muscles, that strange wave of violent power that had taken me over in mind and in body. I'd almost killed him.
I shook my head, replacing those morbid thoughts with my current problem: the object of Joshua's affections, and an offer I found difficult to refuse, despite Thor's words of warning which still curled in my ears.
"What is there to think about, Bryn?" she asked, eyes narrowed again, forehead scrunched in a disapproving, almost disappointed frown.
A twinge of guilt rippled through me. I was being an ungrateful witch. A smile crept across my face. "I'm sorry. Of course you can come with."
And if Thor disapproved, too bad.
***
With the thought of decapitation foremost in my mind, I figured food would be the last thing I wanted. I was wrong. Asgard's food was nothing to sniff at, and all I craved was delicious roast beef and fresh bread.
After a hearty meal, I headed back to my room to regroup. With armor and weapons readily available, the only thing I seriously lacked was courage. Throwing a last glance around, I tugged the strap on my satchel and threw Thor's gift of invisibility over my arm. Time to get on with it. The evil witch waits for no Valkyrie.
Mika and I met at the Bifrost entrance, where the warmth of the great fire flitted through the stray strands of our hair. Bellies full, strength and arms replenished, we stood at the entrance to the Bridge of the Gods, ready to walk straight into what legend claimed was pretty much another Hel.
Swartelfheim. The realm of the dwarf race.
I smoothed down the lapels of my coat and tightened my belt. Although it wasn't at all necessary, I wore Midgardian clothing over my Glasir Kevlar: dark jeans and a short leather jacket. They gave me a certain comfort I refused to pick apart. I belonged to Asgard, but also to Midgard. Waste of time trying to tear myself apart trying to be something I'm not. I guess I was both.
I carried the Cloak of Darkness over my arm, carefully concealing it, as Thor had done before he'd revealed to me, sitting there on his arm in plain sight. The cloak's outer layer of invisibility folded around itself, rendering it totally unseen. Unseen, yes, but if someone accidentally brushed against it, the cloak's rich silkiness would give it away. I didn't want to take any chances.
I hugged the cloak close, watching Mika as she packed her bag full of weapons. When she looked away, I quickly rolled the cloak up and stuffed it into my satchel, then slung that over my shoulder. For some strange reason, I didn't want to reveal all my cards before we left. Probably Thor's warning knocking on my frickin' conscience. I was still worried. I'd agreed to take her along even though Thor had said this was my mission—mine alone. But I guess I could do with the company.
Mika slipped her satchel onto her shoulder, metal clinking softly inside the leather bag. "Ready?"
I gave her a sharp, businesslike nod and drew closer to the doorway. The entrance to the Bifrost swirled in the middle of the room, molten ether turning and twisting and waiting for us to enter.
We stepped in together. I stiffened, holding my body hard against the twisting pull of the bridge as it drew us across realms and across time to our destination. A strange magic lived inside the Bridge of the Gods. Its ability to identify your destination without being told fascinated me no end. Beyond any technology modern Midgard possessed. Wow.
We reappeared at the foot of a dead tree that towered over us; leafless branches reached overhead like ghostly arms threatening to steal us into the night.
Disconcerting.
Chapter 26
A murky, insipid twilight shrouded our arrival; the strange moon, a thin, hazy sliver, hung low in a burnished sky, furtively peering down on us.
I stared into the gloom, pulling my jacket close against rude fingers of cold. Vague, shadowy shapes promised a dense forest of wooden-fingered trees ahead, spreading out far into the distance. I swallowed hard, unable to make out an easy path through the menacing black forest. Flicking Mika a beckoning glance, I slipped between thick tree trunks and wended my way through the growing darkness.
I spent the next few minutes dodging broken branches that I could have sworn reached out to tug at my hair, or weaved and swayed just to hinder my progress. At last, I ducked around the final tree and let go of a breath I hadn't realized I'd held all the while.
Surveying the area, I was supremely relieved to find a wide clearing at the foot of a monstrous granite mountainside made of night and shadows. Even the sparse moonlight failed to reflect on its rocky face.
Mika poked a finger into my arm and pointed ahead. Straight across the clearing, and carved into the base of the dark mountain, sat a gigantic doorway, like the shadowed stone jaws of a sleeping granite beast.
I studied the monstrous entrance. A towering lintel curved at the top of the arch, edged all the way around by a thick strip of carved letters. Ancient Norse again. I squinted, trying to make sense of the words.
When Mika jabbed me in the ribs and pulled me down, I scowled at her, only to quickly realize my error. In my fascination with the dwarfish inscriptions, I'd stepped forward, away from the cover of the trees, without realizing. "Careful!" Mika whispered, her words edged with a guttural growl. Though still annoyed, I mouthed an apology.
Together we scrutinized the terrain and planned our approach. A pair of huge, dark granite doors filled the entrance, very much shut to the world. The doors towered, carved into the shape of two large, rough trunks. It would've been easy to believe the ancient Swartelfheim builders had taken two monstrous trees and turned them to stone before using them as doors. Amazing sculpting skills. I was very impressed.
So impressed, I almost missed the guard.
Almost.
The crunch of stones beneath his thick boots drew my attention to him. Short, squat and roped with muscles. For a brief hysterical second I imagined this miniature, manlike creature pumping iron in a fancy New York gym. Glistening with sweat on his hairy body, wearing too tight gym shorts and grunting loud enough to draw annoyed stares. Too funny.
His entire demeanor screamed don't mess with me—bow and arrow at his back, daggers dotting his belt, even the hilt of a short spear sticking out of his little boot. He twisted in place, facing the opposite doorpost, then made a short march across.
Even blanketed in darkness, pockmarked with shadows, his face troubled me: heavily jowled, bushy haired, fat and sad. Yes, a sadness definitely creased his lumpy face. Or perhaps I felt a little empathy toward the poor prince whose mother had stolen away his kingdom and relegated him to door warden. What a life. It must suck to have everything taken from you by your own mother. Talk about total emasculation.
He focused on the forest of ghostly arms, studying the shadows for possible intruders. I huddled closer to the ground, hoping the encroaching gloom would hide me. For one horrible second he stared straight at me, as if he'd seen me cowering behind the tree trunk, watching him. But then he spun on his heel and made his little march across to the other end of the doorway again. One more march in a lifetime of marches.
Mika pulled me down beside her. "Right, we have to get him away from the door." Her whispered words were soft against my ears.
It was time to go undercover. Thor may have handed down his don't-trust-anyone law, but I certainly didn't see him hanging around to give me a hand. Besides, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I whispered back to Mika, "I have something that can get us there safely."
Mika raised one delicate eyebrow, an action that asked, "Now what?" I dug into my satchel and withdrew what probably looked like nothing to her.
She scowled. "What are you doing?"
Then she had to swallow a squeak as I threw the cloak around me and did a quick disappearing act. I leaned against the solid, rough bark of the tree trunk and stifled a giggle as her eyes goggled in amazement. She reached out, running her fingers across the cloak, still unable to see what lay beneath.
"I do not believe it," she whispered in soft amazement, her eyes gleaming with wonder. "I never would have thought it was real. Where did you get it?"
I pulled the cloak off me and shuffled to my knees, giving a quick shrug. "It was given to me for the journey. And it looks like we're going to need it."
I examined the clearing again, glad that the solid, packed dirt wouldn't show footprints. It would be a total fail if we scurried across the clearing leaving ghostly footprints as we went.
"Come on," I said. "We need to get in quickly."