Norse Code Part 22

"Well, I managed to score a couple cases of beer. We can give ourselves epic hangovers in his honor."

"Beer?" Mist said, touched. "How did you ever-"

"Feh, black markets are my favorite kind of shopping. I even got some roast beef. I know how much Grimnir liked b.l.o.o.d.y meat."

"For a dead sister," Mist said, "you're not half bad."

Lilly smiled, looking off into the distance. "I feel too alive to be dead. But I guess dead is what we still are. Which is weird. Can we die again? I mean, die die, for good? With Valhalla and Helheim gone, do we go anywhere afterward?"

"I kind of like not knowing," Mist said. "It's more open-ended this way."

They walked together through the park, not talking. Mist just enjoyed the feel of solid ground beneath her feet, the sensation of her own pulse.

"Hermod and I are leaving," she said.

Lilly sat on the playground swings. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Mist said. "Adrian Hoover's family was in New Jersey when Grim and I abducted him. If they survived, I need to see them in person. I can't repay my debt to them, but I owe it to them to let them know what happened to their son. Whether they believe me or not."

Lilly nodded. "I guess saving the world doesn't get you off the hook for everything that happened before."

"I think that's one of the reasons Vidar and Frigg were so set on starting a new world. New beginnings are attractive."

"But we're not G.o.ds," Lilly said.

Mist sat on the swing next to Lilly's. "Nope. We're responsible."

Side by side, they swung for a while.

"ARE YOU going to keep that thing in your head?" Hod asked.

Hermod had built a small fire in one of the park's barbecue grills. He wished he had something to throw on it. Some chicken, or hamburgers, or even one of those chemical-filled hot dog things. What did a G.o.d have to do to get a decent meal around here, anyway?

"Hermod," Hod said, interrupting Hermod's musings. "The eye. Are you going to keep it?"

Hermod sighed. "It was showing me more than I wanted to see at first. But I'm getting used to it now. Which scares me." He looked into the flames. "I'm going to pull it out."

"May I ask why?"

The question surprised Hermod. He'd thought Hod would be pleased to hear that he didn't want to hold on to Odin's vision.

"Our history is too full of seers and of our so-called betters using wisdom as an excuse to tie puppet strings to us all," Hermod said. "The eye is a remnant of a time when we Aesir, whatever we are, chose to play at being G.o.ds."

Shadows made depthless caverns beneath Hod's brow. "How would you destroy it? Throw it into the ocean? Bury it in the earth? Cast it into a volcano?"

"Pluck it out of my skull before it does damage," Hermod said. "Then cleave it with Vidar's sword."

"It's no longer Vidar's sword," Hod said mildly. "Just as it's no longer Father's eye. Both are yours. You refashioned the world after your own design, Hermod, as decidedly as any G.o.d to emerge from fire and ice. Can discarding your tools ever change that?"

Hermod didn't answer. He walked away, and a few minutes later he found Mist, sitting alone on the swings. He stood before her and held out his hand.

She took it and smiled. There was a look in her eye.

"Oh," he said. "Is this a second date? Do you want ... Are we going to-"

"Shut up," she said. "You know we are."

"Right here? In the playground?"

She put her hands on his shoulders, and he let her push him to the ground, and for a while the world was very strange, but only in a nice way.

MUNIN AND I circle above the playground, observing the two Aesir and their companions. Hermod and Hod, the last G.o.ds alive. Or, perhaps, the first G.o.ds of this strange new Midgard, if they choose to be.

"I didn't see this coming," I say to Munin.

Munin chases a moth near the treetops and s.n.a.t.c.hes it out of the air.

The dominoes are spread out before us, not just in lines but in endless convolutions. They fall and rise with no pattern I can discern, as if they have a will of their own. I find them very discourteous. Ragnarok was the long-antic.i.p.ated end of everything. And now Hermod has given us an unknown tomorrow.

Which means today, anything is possible.

Below, Hermod whistles for his dog, and Winston runs to his side, excitedly whipping his tail. Hermod and Mist gather their few things and set off with Sleipnir, eastward, the rising sun bathing the sky in salmon-colored light to overtake the last of the nighttime stars.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR.

Greg van Eekhout was born and raised in Los Angeles and lives in San Diego. You can visit his website at www.writingandsnacks.com.

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