She stepped closer and raised long, smoky lashes to look directly into my eyes. Hers were smoldering embers, flashing with white-hot sparks that shifted and glinted in their glowing depths. Hel's eyes had disturbed me. Looking into this Norn's eyes made my confrontation with Hel seem like a schoolboy's apprehension of a scolding.
Heat engulfed me. It stifled my lungs until drawing breath was agony. I tried to stumble backward, tried to break the gaze that held me prisoner, but was unable to move. I was caught by her gaze like a moth drawn to the very scorching edge of a candle flame. My horse screamed again; but I was powerless to stop him from lunging free and bolting as fast as he could run.
She reached out with slender, flame-tipped fingers. They crackled in the hot air. Sweat drenched my clothing in rivers. I watched, waiting for the pain that would come when my skin blistered under her touch, and wondered if the Biter would even come to my hand... .
A smile teased her lips, blurred slightly by the heat haze between us. A smoky, sultry voice reached through the heat roar in my ears. "No mortal has ever dared my gaze so long. You are brave beyond telling."
She turned her gaze to Baldr. A draft of cool, sweet air rushed over me, filled my lungs. I staggered, and just managed to avoid collapsing to my knees. I was trembling from head to foot and couldn't stop.
A cool hand touched my brow. I yelled, and jumped about three feet straight up. When I landed, my knees folded, dumping me ignominiously to the ground. I managed to look up. The goddess in green, her bowl of clay discarded, stood beside me. Her expression wavered between contrition and amusement. She was holding the silver pitcher of water her sister had been filling from the spring. Wordlessly, she placed it in my hands. When she curled hers around mine to steady them, a shock of energy sped through me. Strength raced up my arms and spread throughout my whole body. My ragged breathing slowed, my hands steadied, and the tremors eased out of my muscles.
When I looked down into the pitcher, I saw the same eerie play of light I'd seen in the spring. I nearly dropped the whole thing in my lap. My benefactress caught it deftly. She wrapped my hands around the sides, and overlapped my fingers warmly with hers; then lifted the rim to my lips. I drank deeply, and closed my eyes as the shining water sank into me.
The sensation was utterly indescribable. The shock of energy from her touch was nothing compared to the feeling that raced through me now. I could feel flesh closing, healing over wounds that until now had mended only with painful slowness. Scars disappeared, and bitter, bone-weary exhaustion vanished. My mind cleared. A sense of strength and energy I hadn't known in years flooded through me. When I opened my eyes, the pitcher was empty and dark.
I stared at the beautiful woman beside me. She smiled, taking the pitcher from my hands, and touched my brow. A flush ran through me. I reached out, unthinking, wanting only to touch her, to take her in my arms and drown in the soft warmth of her... .
She placed a fingertip against my lips and shook her head slightly. I kissed the warm flesh touching mine; then closed my eyes in ecstasy when she traced the outline of my mouth with her fingertip. I felt her lips brush mine; then she was gone. I swayed drunkenly.
Something nibbled warmly at my ear. I opened my eyes. My horse stood over me, lipping my hair and looking contrite.
"Goddamn stupid nag," I muttered. Baldr had averted his gaze; but he was smiling. In an attempt to regain my composure, I tightened the girth, and made sure my pack and its contents had suffered no damage.
Sneaking a glance over one shoulder, I saw that the woman of my dreams had returned the pitcher to her sister. Where her footsteps crossed trails of char—left by the fiery Norn's feet—new grass sprouted thickly, covering the blackened scars with a carpet of tender green shoots.
The white Norn refilled the pitcher, and where she trod, the earth withered into fine white ash that blew away on the breeze of her passing. I noticed trails and patches of grass, char, and ash all around the spring, crisscrossing each other all the way to the open doors of the hall.
"Baldr..."
The fire Norn breathed his name into the smoky stillness.
When I looked, Baldr was pale to the lips. He held the Norn's gaze with obvious difficulty. Suddenly I didn't feel quite so bad.
"Skuld." He sketched a courtly, archaic bow which I suspected was designed solely to break her gaze. It gave him a moment to compose himself. "Pray forgive me for intruding on your private affairs. My apologies as well to Urd," he bowed to the white Norn, "and Verdani." Each nodded in turn, acknowledging the apology.
I wondered briefly if Urd was named for the spring or the spring for her. Destiny. History. How were maiden and spring interwoven, I wondered, these two who watered the Tree of the Worlds? I thought about the ashes of her footsteps and felt a chill run through my bones. Even if these three weren't still in charge of the universe—something I was beginning to doubt, despite what I'd seen so far—they were clearly the most dangerous trio I'd ever encountered. Not even Sleipnir instilled the same fight-or-flight terror Skuld did.
As though she'd heard my thoughts, Skuld glanced my way. I stiffened. She smiled, then turned a stern gaze on my companion. I felt as though I'd been granted a reprieve. Baldr stiffened in turn.
"Yes, Baldr, this one is assuredly our private affair. Why have you chosen to interfere?"
Sweat broke out across the dead god's forehead; a healthy dose of fear shone in his eyes, mingled with stunned surprise.
"You ask?" His voice actually broke.
She inclined her head slightly. A tremor caught him.
For a goddess who was supposed to know everything—including, obviously, Baldr's very thoughts—her question was decidedly odd. A cold, murderous smile started somewhere at gut level and stretched its way across my lips. Skuld's question—and Baldr's white-faced reaction—confirmed what I had already known.
—And what Odin's favorite son was just beginning to guess.
Come Niflhel, come high water, Odin was mine.
Baldr was in deep distress. He closed his eyes, and his fists; then he met Skuld's eyes. Sweat poured off him. "I seek only guidance, lady."
She gazed at him in stony silence for a moment. "There are things stirring that even gods may not know, Baldr."
I thought he was going to be sick. Then Skuld turned, and the heat of her gaze caught me unawares. I reeled and fought to return it.
"Have you told your somewhat foolish—although undeniably loyal—companion why you came?" she asked me.
I straightened. Sweat rivered off me. I managed to draw one scalding breath to reply. "I want to talk to Loki. And that's all I'm telling anyone."
I fully expected to be incinerated for my insolence. I wasn't. And if her laughter astonished me, it stunned Baldr speechless.
"I fear that will have to be enough for you, Baldr," she said, still laughing, "and for your grim hostess, as well. This mortal keeps his secrets well."
Baldr started to protest; then fell uneasily silent. He eyed me warily. I could see clearly that he bitterly regretted his impulsive act of friendship, made back at Hel's hall.
Skuld sighed, and said, "Things are not as they once were, Baldr; but if it makes you feel any better..."
She closed her eyes, and stood perfectly still inside the crackling aura of heat that surrounded her. Skuld began to speak, in words wreathed with smoke and flame:
Helblindi's eye from heaven sees
The battle grim which heralds doom,
And fearful of His dreadful fate,
He strives to halt what must transpire.
Does Fimbulvetr lurk beyond
The madness He himself has loosed?
What guilty thoughts Helblindi hides,
Such deeds, the valkyries abhor,
And Frigga hangs her head in shame.
A mortal's eyes and mortal's heart
See all with other eyes than His,
And mortal lips pronounce a doom
That drives no bargain save with Death.
Helblindi sees, Helblindi snarls,
And all the worlds await the hour,
To see if mortal blow can break
The chains which hold Muspell at bay.
Will all that rages for revenge
Be loosed upon the tree of ash?
Or will the dour hall of Hel
Receive another guest tonight?
The force Between is now unleashed
For good or ill upon the Worlds,
And mortal gods do well to fear
The Midgard hand unbound by Fate.