BOOK 3. Trapped in Asgard after Odin's apparent death, Anna chooses an unlikely ally in her attempt to find Loki. While the realm is sealed from the rest of the Nine Worlds, her strange dreams lead her to the one place she'd never expect.
To him...
The shadow in front of Anna seems to float through the mist, and she almost can't tell if the form is physical or some trick of her imagination. After what she saw - what she heard - she can't be certain what is real at the moment. Nothing matters, nothing except finding Loki.
"I should expect so," the shadow says, with a matter-of-fact tone.
Anna's breathing slows, and she stares at the shadow almost as if willing it to take a more corporeal form.
"What do you mean?" She stammers, earning a snort in return.
Another step forward from the shadow, and they're now less than two feet apart. Part of her wants to reach out and brush her fingers against the dark cloak wrapped around the figure to prove that it's real, but she isn't certain how she'd react if her hand went straight through it. Wherever she is, if this is Niflheim, she can't waste any time with hallucinations.
"I mean, Midgardian, that you have been in contact with him every night for many months, have you not?" The shadow spoke, reluctantly offering a hand toward Anna. "Each night you greet the back of your eyelids only to find him, why should now be any different?"
Anna stares blankly at the hand extended to her, surprised to see luminescent skin - almost the same shade as a pearl - covering a feminine and well-manicured hand.
"How do you know this?" Anna asks, shaking her head. "I've never seen him in my dreams, it's always the rocks. Nothing but darkness and rocks."
The shadow waves away Anna's comment, the mist swirling around her wrist.
"I know this because I know him," the voice explains, taking on a tone of impatience. "Even if I do not understand why my father did what he did, binding his soul to yours, I do believe I am the only being who understands how to use it to your advantage."
Father.
Her nervousness begins to dissipate, if only for a moment, and she sighs, "So you're Hela."
"I am," Hela responds, extending her hand once more.
This time Anna takes her hand, allowing the other woman to help her to her feet, and brushes non-existent dirt from the folds of her immaculate navy gown. The fabric is just as soft as she remembers it, even though she isn't quite certain if any of what she's touching is real. How could it be? She left her body back in Asgard.
Exhaling, she smiles politely at Hela, unsure of how to proceed. Nearly half a foot shorter than Loki's daughter, she's surprised that - even disguised in her cloak - the woman seems to have a thin, waif-like appearance.
"You are wondering if I take after my father, correct?" Hela asks, a hint of sardonic amusement laced in her voice. "In some ways more than others, perhaps."
Anna stares at the ground, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."
"Curiosity is not rude, Midgardian," Hela retorts. "It is simply vexatious."
Silence falls between them as the mist continues to swirl. Even this close to Hela, she can't make out any of her features beneath the hood. It's as if she and the fog are one, nearly indistinguishable, making Anna feel as if she is talking to a ghost.
Then again, in this reality, Anna is the ghost.
"So if you know that I've seen him, if you know about whatever this connection is between us," Anna says, breaking the silence. "Then you know how to help me? You can find him?"
Hela seems to shrug, "I cannot find him, but I do know where he is."
"What?" Anna asks incredulously. "How does that make sense? How can y--"
"He is in the void," the other woman interrupts, a sliver of anger tainting her words. "That is where you meet him each night in your dreams. However, even I do not know how to reach such a location."
Anna huffs, a combination of frustration and relief twisting through her. If Loki is in the void, then it is certain he is not dead. However, from what he told her of that place - and from what she saw - her heart aches for him. His green eyes always turned dark at the memory, and - in some instances - she could swear that a hint of icy blue appeared in their depths. Whatever happened in the void changed him, drove him near the brink of madness, and it certainly led to the attack on New York. What would happen to him if he is pushed toward that same edge once more?
She shakes her head, refusing to dwell on the thought, before asking, "Then how does this help? Sigyn said you could help me."
"I can," Hela says simply. "That does not imply that I will."
Now Playing: "Guilty Filthy Soul" by AWOLNATION.
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Did I mention that we're returning to a regular(ish) update schedule?
That's right. You'll be getting a minimum of two chapters per week.
