Winterfire

Chapter Twenty-nine

Lif

Hel stared at me and then nodded once decisively, as if she accepted my answer, foolish as it was. “Very well. When next we meet, you will no longer see a friend.” Ganglati reappeared leading two washed out, faded-looking young men. Without a word, she stepped behind Hel’s chair and wheeled it out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Even in the pale, weak, diminished condition he now occupied, Baldur was the most strikingly beautiful person I had ever seen. His blue eyes, fringed with long lashes, sparkled like moving water. His cheekbones were prominent and strong, his forehead, smooth and clear. His long brown hair curled around his face and hung to below his collar. He smiled at me and his teeth were straight and white. When he stepped forward and embraced me, his muscles felt taut as bowstrings. He seemed to pulse with energy. He was alive; he was life itself.

Hod was the understated version of his brother. His eyes, the same brilliant color, did not project power so much as absorb pain. His other features were as beautiful as his brother’s, and would have been exceptional in any company save Baldur’s. Baldur took Hodur’s arm and led him to me, and Hodur, too, hugged me. Rather than the tight, lively energy exuded by his brother, Hodur’s embrace was a kind of drawing in, of acceptance. I felt the burden of my tension slide from me and into Hodur’s arms.

I understood with a perfect clarity that these two men did not belong here. I would do everything I could to get them out of Helheim.

“We haven’t much time; Hel is probably close by, preparing to attack us. We need to move before she gets the chance,” I said in a low, urgent voice.

“Who are you?” asked Baldur. “How did you get in here?”

“My name is Lif. Your mother brought me here to help you escape. She had planned to fly us out of Helheim with her falcon cape, but it’s too late for that now; we're on our own. I’m sure you know more of the geography of this place than I do, but it seems to me the river Gjoll is our best chance of escape. I crossed the bridge once and I can do it again.”

“But to get to it, we have to evade Mordgud,” said Hodur. “She took something from you, didn’t she? It was not meant to entice you back to her—she’s a liar and never returns anyone’s treasures—but to track your movements. If she took something dear to you, she can use it to find you. What did she take from you?”

Baldur noticed my bandaged hand as soon as they entered the room. “She took your finger, didn’t she?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “She has my finger, but she didn’t take it from me; I gave it to her. I used my own weapon—Breyta— to cut it off. Breyta is the only thing of real value I carry; I said goodbye to the pinky finger of my left hand before I removed it. It has no more meaning to me than a trimmed fingernail.”

Hodur smiled. “If it doesn’t mean anything to you,” he said, “then she can’t use it to find you. She'll have to rely on her spies, which may slow her down a bit.”

“I know how we can get to the river,” said Baldur. “We could just go back through the barrows, but I think we should follow the coast. That way is longer, but we have less chance of meeting anyone. If we follow the coast, we will reach the place where the Gjoll empties into the sea. The bridge is only a mile or two from there.”

“Is there only one way out of this room?”

“No,” said Baldur. “If we follow this stream through the pines, the room gradually dissolves. We’ll be outside. There is a faint trail running beside it; we must stay on the trail through the forest so we don’t get lost, but by the time the path fades to nothing, we’ll be on the Plains of Helheim. We will be able to see the beach.”

“Then why don’t we go that way?” I said. “You know that as soon as we open this door, Hel will be upon us. We’ll be lucky to make it out of Elvidner.”

“As powerful as she is,” said Hodur, “Hel really is confined to that chair. She can only pursue us where Ganglati can push her, so the forest and plains are out for her. But she is not alone. Besides her other guards—all gigantic women warriors like Mordgud and Ganglati - she has Garm.”

I sighed. I felt like collapsing down onto the ground. “Who is Garm?” I asked. “What new terror tracks us?”

“Garm is the guard dog of Helheim,” said Baldur. “He is eight feet tall, and, of course, vicious. Even Hel can barely control him. He’s not actually a dog, though he looks like one. He’s a Jotun—a giant. He’s a thinking, conniving, blood-thirsting beast. He lives in a cave on the plains, and while he could be anywhere, we can assume Hel has him hunting us. She also has spies everywhere. We must be suspicious of every bird, every insect.”

I removed Breyta from the sack and started through the forest. “Let’s go then,” I said. “It’s too late to turn back now.”