Dead Chaos (9 page)

I’d just entered my room and sat on my bed with a sigh when a knock on the door had me on my feet again. Sigrun beamed at me and I moved aside for her to enter.

"All done with Aidan
?" she asked, still scowling. Apparently she still didn't like that I went with him. But I quickly related the discovery of Loki’s daughter reborn which had a distinct effect on Sigrun’s expression.

"I certainly didn’t expect you to tell me that." She shook her head. "Perhaps it was a good thing you went with Aidan then."

I nodded with a small smile, then said, "And Mimir?"

"
Very well, Bryn, come along and I will show you to him." She sighed dramatically and marched out of the room without a backward glance.

I pumped my fist silently and scurried after her.

Sigrun guided me through the torch-lit passages of Odin's palace, until at last we arrived at a set of double doors; doors made for a frost giant or two from the looks of them. More than six feet high, probably fashioned from the largest, most ancient tree they could find. The doors would intimidate anyone who approached them.

Including me.

"Go ahead," said Sigrun.

"What, only two guards?" My tone was dry as I stared at the two
einherjar
flanking the door to Mimir’s chamber. "For a head that predicted the future, he’s not very well guarded at all. So how do I get in?"

"The guards will let you pass, but you will have to lie to get in." Sigrun looked unhappy for a moment.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" For the first time, I was a bit worried about sneaking in to see Mimir.

"You will have to say that you have the All-Father’s permission to seek Mimir’s counsel. Nobody would dare lie about such a thing, but it is the only way past the guards."

"I do plan on telling Odin anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem." I shrugged. Although I pretended it didn’t bother me, my stomach hardened.

"Lie or not, that, of course, is up to you." I glanced sharply at Sigrun but her face remained expressionless. She didn’t approve of my visit, but she would have to just deal with it. "The doors are not locked. You may enter, but please try not to upset Mimir."

"Okay, I'll try not to," I said, unsure of what Sigrun even meant by that. I waved her off. She left with a worried look on her face.

She didn’t have to worry. I knew I’d be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?

I was more concerned about Sigrun and Fen than I was about getting in trouble for sneaking in to see Mimir. I was so very glad she'd decided to talk to him about the way they felt about each other. It was really sweet watching them together, so obvious how much they cared for each other, but for how much longer could they continue their "almost" relationship? I stared down the passage long after she was gone and crossed my fingers for her. Fen better be nice to her or he will have me to deal with.

I faced the entrance to Mimir's room again. Approaching the door I spoke to the
einherjar
to my left, informing him with more confidence than I felt, that I needed to speak with Mimir and I was here with Odin’s blessing. The Warrior nodded and I grabbed a handle easily twice the size of my fist, and pushed at the door. Hinges silent, the door swung open only wide enough for me to sneak through the space. Then I shut the door behind me, feeling a twinge of irrational fear that I'd be stuck in this room with a crazy talking head forever as punishment for breaking the rules.

Get a hold of yourself, Bryn
.

I turned to face the room, taking a deep breath as I examined the small, close room. Light from a multitude of wavering torchlights flickered on the dark stone walls.

Despite the number of flames lighting the room, the space still seemed to suck the light out of the torches, leaving the room with a dank, cold feeling. I stepped forward, across black marble floor tiles that did nothing for brightening the place up or adding a cheerful feel.

A step or two later, the back wall came into view and I swallowed a gasp. I wasn’t sure what I'd expected but certainly not the bold, stern statue of a man that occupied a fair amount of space before me. Made of bronze and gold, the carved armor gleamed in the light from the torches, all the way from his leather-styled shoes to the intricate brooch at his neck that held his flowing cloak in place.

I seemed that at any moment this impressively worked statue would come to life and chase me out of his room. The carving stood a head taller than me, forcing me to tip my chin up to look at the face. Despite the neat little ruse of the carved body, I still faced a head without a body. The thought sent little shivers up and down my spine.

Blinking, I studied the head. Apparently, good looks were part of being an Asgardian god. Perhaps I'd seen too many zombie movies and maybe I'd expected to see decaying, discolored skin and to smell the odor of dead flesh. I gave myself a mental shake and took another step forward.

I cleared my throat loudly, hoping the sound would awaken him.

Nothing happened.

"Hello?" I said, my voice shaking a bit as nerves slowly took over. What if he didn’t awaken? I'd have to leave without my answer and then I'd be forced to ask Odin about the prophecy. I tried again. "Hello. Excuse me, my lord Mimir."

I couldn’t take my eyes off Mimir's head and stood watching it for the first sign of movement. At last, an eyelid twitched, then the second one moved and Mimir opened his eyes. And I was floored. From his features, his eyes, I could tell he would have been older than Thor when he'd been beheaded. And he had the most stunning green eyes, greener than mine, catlike in its intensity.

I swallowed hard.

For a moment he just stared at me. "Who are you?"

"My name is Brynhildr. I—"

All he did was raise an eyebrow for one silent moment. And then he said. "Do you have my Mead, girl?"

"What? No, I'm sorry I didn't bring any Mead with me." My heart sank. Was there some kind of ritual I didn’t know?

"I always have my Mead when I am awakened." Mimir's face fell and I could have sworn he pouted. I raised my eyebrows, surprised at such a mundane reaction.

"I apologize, my Lord Mimir. I was not aware you required your Mead. Shall I go and fetch you some?" I offered, as much as I disliked having to leave to fetch it. But if Mimir wanted his Mead I knew I'd have no choice.

"Never mind, girl." I could just imagine the god flicking his fingers at me dismissively. If he'd had a body, that is. At this point, he was confined to just his face and eyes to express his disdain of my apparent incompetence. "What is it you require?"

He'd asked so suddenly that for a moment I was stunned into silence.

"Come, girl. Speak up." His voice raised a few decibels.

"I have come to beg you to repeat a prophecy you made about me."

"About you?" I could see from his eyes that he knew exactly who I was.

"Yes. My name is Brynhildr and you made a prophecy regarding me. Something about a destructive destiny and a choice I will have to make."

Mimir nodded. "Yes, I do recall the prophecy you speak of."

"Please, could you clarify what it means? What did you see? Can you help me to find out?"

"Brynhildr, you really should be speaking to Odin about this
." Mimir threw me a stern glare. "I do not think I should be discussing this with you."

"Why does everyone keep sending me to Odin?" I asked, getting grumpier by the second.

"Because Odin is Sovereign of Asgard, Ruler of the Nine Realms. He is the one to talk to, even when it comes to my foretellings."

"Even when the prophecy is about me?"

"Yes, my dear. I foretell the future to Odin as a payment for what he did for me. Had it not been for Odin, I would be dead. Or entirely dead. If you know what I mean." Mimir's lips turned up in a wry smile. The bodiless head had a sense of humor, but I couldn’t return the smile; he still hadn’t given me an answer. "Do you know what Odin did for me?"

"No, I'm not familiar with what happened. Sorry." I apologized even though I had no idea why. It wasn’t my fault I wasn't schooled in all the myths and legends of the Norse culture.

"We were betrayed by the Vanir during an exchange of gods. They believed they were duped and beheaded me without question. They then sent my head back to my nephew as a message." Nephew? I never knew Mimir was Odin’s uncle, but I kept silent. "Odin was so distraught. He tried to keep me alive any way he could. He searched far and wide for a spell, and using herbs and other concoctions, he managed to find a way to keep me with him. He even went so far as to sacrifice his eye to drink from the well of foretelling. That is why I am here today. My nephew has made incredible sacrifices for me."

"But do you like living this way?" I couldn’t believe the question had slipped out of my mouth so easily. Shocked, I waited for the reprimand.

But it never came.

"I will admit it is not the best way to survive through the ages, but I am still alive, and I am able to provide the Aesir with as much information as I can to help win the war over the Vanir. I am happy."

"Do you know that Loki is very busy trying to win the war for the Vanir?"

"Yes," came the short, enigmatic answer.

I took a breath and tried again. "Can you help me? Please? The prophecy was about me. Don't I have a right to know what it is?"

"Well, I do believe you have a very strong argument, Brynhildr." Mimir nodded. "Very well then, Valkyrie Brynhildr. You have a very important role to play in the events leading up to Ragnarok. The choices you make and the tasks you perform could tip the scales in Odin's favor. Or perhaps it will do nothing to change anything."

"That's cryptic." There went my mouth again. I bit my lip, admonishing myself silently.

"I understand your frustration, Brynhildr. It is the same feeling Odin gets when I speak my prophecies," Mimir said, laughing loudly, the sound echoing around the small room. "I speak of what I see. But what I see is not set in stone. Each person is responsible for their own choices and sometimes that person
will not stray from the path of the prophecy no matter how much they want to. No matter how much they try. All the choices they make along their path will guide them to their destiny. You may yet change your own destiny, Brynhildr."

"So what is this prophecy then?"

"I have seen you hurt, badly hurt. You will make a great sacrifice but you may be betrayed either by your own actions or by that of someone close to you. The destruction in your life may spill over to the people close to you so you will need to be aware and take care. And the choices you make will affect who wins Ragnarok—the Aesir or the Vanir." Yeah, I thought, hurt; wings destroyed, check. Betrayed by Mika, check. Bring about Odin’s destruction, not check. Does he not have anything good to say? "Odin can do what he wants to assist you, but in the end, you control your destiny. The choices you make will also affect whether Odin survives or not. "

My blood ran cold the moment Mimir mentioned Odin's death. Was I actually going to have a hand in his destruction? The nightmare just seemed to keep getting worse and worse. I stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Mimir seemed to understand and filled the silence. "There is one way for you to find out a little more about your future, if you so wish."

"Please, I'll do anything to find out more. I have to know. Especially if Odin's fate hangs in the balance."

"Have you heard of the Norns?" asked Mimir, his green eyes trained on my face. I bet he could see exactly how I felt and yet he remained implacable.

I shook my head. "Nope."

"They are the Fates. And they are perhaps your only recourse if you wish to avoid being the reason for Odin's destruction."

"Okay, where do I find these Norns, then?"

"The Norns live at the roots of the great Yggdrasil, deep within Jotunnheim, the land of the frost giants." Now my heart hung, dead in my chest

Great. I have to infiltrate enemy territory so I can save Odin, not to mention myself? This just keeps getting better and better.

"So how do I get there?"

"The Bifrost will take you to Jotunnheim. But once you arrive, you will have to travel on foot through the Vigrid Plains until you reach The Great Tree. The Norns live beneath its roots."

"Okay."

"And, Brynhildr. Could I ask you for something in return?"

"Of course. You've helped me so much." As I said the words, I wondered if I would’ve been better off not knowing any of this. Me and my stupid curiosity. "What can I do to repay you?"

"Beneath the roots of Yggdrasil is the Well of Mim. Could you bring me a goblet of the water from that well?"

"I will do as you ask." I nodded and smiled. A little water was a small price to pay for him breaking all his rules and telling me the prophecy.

"Thank you, Brynhildr." Mimir nodded, then closed his eyes and seemed to be settling in.

"Er . . . do you still want your Mead? I can send for it if you like," I offered, remembering the guards outside.