Demons (Eirik Book 1) (15 page)

Immortal? I wasn’t the only one to visit here, yet Eirik had acted like his mother would plug leaks if she discovered me. Or maybe Maliina had been special. During our first meeting, he’d mentioned not being raised by his mother. Did they have a relationship here or on Earth?

Tammy had said Immortals were real and interacted with the gods, but I hadn’t believed her. I couldn’t wait to tell her that she was right. She was going to be blown away by this. I glanced at my watch. Not an hour had passed since I arrived here.

The voices were now a loud buzz. The aroma of spices and baking wafted in the air, the sound of laughter mixing with utensils scraping the bottom of bowls. She’d said we were going to Grimnirs Hall.

“What are Grimnirs?” I asked, hurrying to keep up with her.

She sighed dramatically. “Hel’s soul reapers. You might even recognize the one who reaped your soul.”

Reapers? My stomach hollowed out and I stopped walking. Images of withered men in hooded robes and scythes flashed through my head. What if they recognize me as a fraud? I looked nothing like the gray souls I’d seen in the Sorting Hall.

“Celestia!” Trudy waved me forward impatiently. I didn’t move. I was surprised when she came back and asked, “What is it?”

“Are they”—I almost said
scary
—“nice?”

She shrugged. “I guess. One brings my sister beautiful things because he knows she loves jewelry, another brings my mom chocolates because she loves them.” Her voice grew wistful. “I love chocolate too, but I work with the goddess and she doesn’t like things from other realms.”

I stored that information for later. “What if they recognized me and want to reap me again?”

“They wouldn’t dare. Everyone knows you are under the protection of the young god.”

Young god? I hadn’t thought about how people here viewed Eirik. To me, he was the brave man who’d given up so much to protect me. To them, he was the son of their goddess, a young god in his own right. I wondered what they thought of the way his mother had treated him.

“Are some of them scary?” I asked. When she frowned I added, “You know old, wrinkly, and weird-looking.”

She laughed. “You are talking about Idun-Grimnirs. They don’t reap anymore. Come on.”

Taking a deep breath, I followed her, the noise level rising with each step we took. Conversations reached me. I entered the arched doorway and my eyes widened. Men and women of all races and sizes in black dusters with hoods, matching pants, tops, and boots, either sat at tables or stood in groups talking. A memory teased me then disappeared before I could grasp it.

There were so many of them. Hundreds. Maybe more. The dining rooms appeared connected by broad doorways and all the long tables were packed. Through another archway, I saw what could be an entertainment room with pool tables, sofas, and dartboards. The ones not eating chugged drinks or played games. Large carts moved between the tables.

At first, all I saw were the carts moving slowly and mechanical hands passing out trays and taking back some. Then a cart turned a corner and the little woman seated behind the wheel in front caught my eye. A female Dwarf. She couldn’t be more than three feet tall and flirted with the reapers.

“Scary, aren’t they?” Trudy teased.

I ignored her teasing. From my online resources, dead warriors went to Asgard, where they trained, so were these reapers dead, too?

“The Idun-Grimnirs don’t eat here,” Trudy said. “And they’re
not
scary. They are old and wise and never say much.”

The Grimnirs at the tables nearest to the doorway saw me first. They stared, and then whispers swept the room before silence followed. All eyes were on me. Not sure what to do or say, I gave them a tiny wave and an equally weak smile, then grabbed Trudy’s arm.

The silence continued for a few seconds. Then conversation resumed. When I glanced back, I met a few stares. Okay, a lot of stares.

“Why are they staring at me?” I whispered.

“News spreads fast in the hall. A soul leaving their hall has never been heard of.”

“Are they souls, too?”

“No, silly. Flesh and blood. Men and women specifically chosen to become reapers and given the knowledge of the gods and other realms,” she whispered. “They are Immortal with super human strength and speed. That’s how they reap thousands of souls a day.”

Super strength and speed, Tammy had said. Immortals were real.

“So they were once Witches, weren’t they?” I asked triumphantly.

“The few left in Midgard,” she shot back. “Idun-Grimnirs have to search high and low to find any Mortal worthy of immortality. They use runic magic and can reap anyone, the gods and my people too. Luckily for them, we live for a very long time, so they only do it once every couple of centuries. Still, no one likes to travel to Muspelheim to reap a fire giant. They have demons down there.”

This was surreal. These men and women reaped souls of dead people, yet they seemed normal. Happy. They were teasing each other, playing pool and card games. Some even had handheld video game consoles.

My hip hit something and I whipped around. We were by a long window. From the number of carts with shelves of trays waiting to be driven, this was the serving counter. Beyond it I could see female Dwarves stirring large pots from high stools, pouring chopped vegetables into large containers, and kneading dough. Fresh loaves of bread and pastries were cooling on racks to the left.

“I thought you said we weren’t going to the kitchen?” I whispered.

She smirked. “I lied. Like you. How do you say it? You are full of bullshit.”

My jaw dropped. I should have known I couldn’t pull off this soul stuff. No wonder she’d kept asking me questions.

“Is this the girl, Trudy?” a female Dwarf asked. She stood on a stool and had the same red hair and green eyes as Trudy. I knew they were related before she spoke.

“Yes, Mama,” Trudy said. “Celestia, my mother, Maera. She is in charge of the meals. If you need anything, come to her. To create a portal in Hel’s Hall, just focus on the person and a portal will open to wherever she or he is.”

Oh, the overgrown pipsqueak had made me walk up all those stairs and that dingy tunnel for nothing. “Nice to meet you, Maera,” I said.

“We need soup and fresh pastries for the young god, Mama. Vestra and Nogg are probably done by now.”

“They are,” Maera said, her eyes still on me. She was frowning now. “You are a pretty little thing.” Little? That was hilarious coming from someone who had to stand on a stool to be my height. As though she knew what I was thinking, she grinned. “You also have beautiful hair, so why do you cover it?”

I touched my head, but my hands closed on the bunny-eared winter hat. I hadn’t known I was still wearing it. I yanked it off.

“That’s better.” She raised a hand and silence filled the room behind her. “Everyone, this is young god Baldurson’s girl, Celestia.”

A chorus of “Welcome, Celestia” greeted me. I gave the Dwarves a little wave even though I wanted to protest. I was no one’s girl.

“If she needs anything, you give it to her because she speaks for the young god.” Maera lowered her hand and the activity resumed.

I glanced at the Grimnirs, who’d probably overheard our conversation. To feed them, the kitchen had to be huge with hundreds of workers, yet I could only see the front part with a few cooks. Most of them were women.

One brought a tray with two large bowls of broth and round loaves of bread wrapped with a cloth. They were hot. My mouth watered. A pitcher of honey-colored liquid and two beautifully decorated crystal mugs sat on a second tray. Trudy had already found a two-shelf cart.

“Take them and go,” Maera said. “The poor child is starved. This time she went too far.”

“Mama!” Trudy glared at her, then placed the trays on the cart and glanced at me. “Follow me.”

A portal opened and I could see outside Eirik’s door. It was partially open. We walked through the portal and just before it closed, my eyes met Maera. She was staring at me and frowning again.

Could she tell I was a fake, too?

~*~

EIRIK

Celestia’s voice reached me from outside my door and I dove under the covers. I’d begun to worry that something had happened to her. I didn’t trust my mother not to go after her. I couldn’t even explain why I didn’t want her to leave yet. Or why relief and excitement zipped through me. She talked too much and was bossy. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was an excuse. She reminded me of home. She was snarky and funny.

The door opened and she entered. Her jaw dropped at the transformation in the room. She’d removed the bunny-eared winter hat and her hair tumbled down her shoulders. I wondered if it was as silky as it looked.

Annoyed by my thoughts, I closed my eyes and tried to see the room through her expressive eyes. Refusing my mother’s offer to use my bedroom had only made her more creative. She’d brought the bedroom to me.

The oak bed was perfectly placed so the head was against my old stone bed. They had replaced the torches with glowing crystals, which I didn’t mind, but I’d told the two Dwarves to take back the wall tapestry, vanity mirror, and the wall-to-wall floor mat. I didn’t mind the table or the fire in the portable stone fireplace, but the lush throw rug by the bed and another by the claw-foot bathtub in the corner of the room were over-the-top. They’d checked with my mother and she’d refused to budge.

Changing from my stinky clothes into pajamas had taken me a good half hour, but I had insisted after kicking the servants out. My mother, wherever she was, was probably grinning gleefully because she’d gotten her way.

“Don’t you just love magic?” a girl whispered, and I opened my eyes. She was pushing a cart. There was something familiar about her. Her skin was pale and her red hair striking.

“If that’s another dig at people in my realm, Trudy,” Celestia whispered back, “I’ll have you know the majority do just fine without magic.”

What had Celestia told the girl? I’d warned her to watch it or she’d be discovered. I’d reached the conclusion that she was from Earth during this second visit. Pedialyte. Pay her back through PayPal. I couldn’t believe I’d thought she was a soul.

She went to check out the tub while the girl pushed a cart closer to my bed. Earlier when she’d thought I was that damn lamb—the worst insult on top of many—and during the confrontation with my mother, I hadn’t really looked at her. Now, I studied her on the sly.

She wore gray leggings and winter boots, and a sweater that hugged her chest and reached her hips. Her legs were gorgeous. Bet she’d look hot in a mini. She didn’t wear makeup, but she didn’t need it.

I closed my eyes again and focused on Cora, trying to remember her smile, the way her eyes would flash when… when… I couldn’t focus. I was acutely aware of every movement Celestia made. Her voice. Her scent. I’ve always had an amazing ability to sniff out various scents, and that sense had become heightened since I arrived here.

“The room looks better,” the other girl whispered.

“It does,” Celestia said, moving closer to the bed. “And the arrogant someone ate all of my chocolate.”

“You shouldn’t have taken so long with my food,” I said, opening my eyes. Her hair framed her face like a halo. I wanted to reach up and touch it, feel its texture. She grinned, her lips arching upward. The dimples appeared.

“Comfy?” she asked.

“No.” I sat up slowly and pushed the pillows behind me. “A hot bath would have been nice, except a certain someone instructed the entire castle that I shouldn’t have one.”

Pink tinged her cheeks. “That’s because that certain someone happens to be the only expert on everything hypothermia in this frigid realm. Did you drink more Pedialyte?”

“You mean the poisonous liquid that tastes like piss? Yes. I’m on bottle number three.” I looked at the redhead staring at me with wide eyes. “Hey. I’m Eirik. Thanks for helping me a few days ago.”

Her mouth opened and closed several times. Then she nodded, her face pink. I looked down to see if there was anything remotely inappropriate showing, but my buttons were done right and the covers hid the fact that I was yet to put on my pajama pants.

“Quit putting her on the spot,” Celestia scolded. “Around here people think you are, I don’t know, a god.” Celeste picked up the chocolate wrappers and shoved them in her backpack.

“Technically, I am one.”

“Technically”—she lowered her voice and picked up the sports bottles I’d dropped by the bed—“you’ll give me away if you keep using my things and leaving them out in the open.” She shoved them in her backpack.

She had a point. The redhead was still standing at the same spot, her head down. Unless she was deaf, she could hear our conversation. “What’s your name?”

She glanced up and ducked her head shyly. Celestia jumped to her feet as though to go to her and then stopped. I saw why. The girl was growing, her torso, limbs, and head moving in perfect unison, her clothes changing at the same time. In seconds, she was the same giantess who’d come into my room with my mother the last week.

Was she spying for my mother? Chances were she’d told her about my attempted escape and those involved. Rhys and his partner could be on Corpse Strand.