I struggled to keep my face neutral. My theory would account for Ull’s strange behavior – his disappearance in the club, the way he talked about his family, his stepdad’s weird name. But the idea was so bizarre, I needed to hear him say it.
“Go on,” I whispered.
“I do not mean to frighten you, but you have to understand what would happen if we dated. We might get sick of each other and break up next week. Or we might be perfectly suited and end up married. And if you were to become a part of my family–” He broke off. “You would suffer the same fate as the rest of us. I cannot let you die on my account.” His head dropped into his hands. I could tell he wasn’t upset about his own fate. He was upset that he might jeopardize mine. “So I stayed away. I did not call. It was the kindest thing to do.”
I completely forgot about coaxing out a confession. My mind fixated on the
we might end up married
part. Guys our age didn’t talk about marriage. Ever. And since I wasn’t ready for that kind of talk, I jumped on the other end of his speech. “You seriously think leaving me hanging like that was kind?”
“Compared to getting involved with you, yes. I have a lot of what you Americans call baggage.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But it would have been nice to know if you’d really had a good time, or if you were just saying that to get something out of me.”
“Kristia.” Ull smiled. “I would never knowingly hurt you. I like you far too much.”
“Hold on. So you do like me?”
Ull chuckled. “Yes. I like you.”
“Oh.” I looked at my fingernails. “Well, sometimes I like you too. When you’re not annoying me, or smothering me, or disappearing on me, or generally driving me nuts.”
“That is fair.” He sighed. “But it should not matter. It is not right to bring you into my life. If we end up together, you will meet the same fate that I do.”
“It’s not polite to speak in nonsense.”
“Maybe, but there is a lot about me that you do not know.”
“I’m listening.” Boy howdy, was I listening.
Ull’s tousled, blond mane flopped adorably as he tilted his head. “I have not scared you off?”
I shrugged. “It takes a lot to scare me. Irritating me seems to come more naturally to you.”
“Oh, Kristia.” Ull lifted my hair off my neck and rested his fingers on my collarbone. I shivered. “Will you join me in the country this weekend? There is a lot I need to tell you, and it would be easier for me to get through it without interruption.”
“Um... I don’t think that’s the best idea for us. Couldn’t we just go out for dinner or something?”
“We could. But it would be best if we had more time to talk. There is much you need to know.”
“Okay, two dinners then?”
“Kristia.” Ull rubbed at his temples.
“Listen. You know as well as I do we haven’t exactly gotten off to the greatest start. Spending a whole weekend together seems like asking for disaster, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” Ull winked. “Or it might be just what we need to get on track.”
Instantly, I was in an English Garden. The cobblestones at my feet formed a smallish courtyard, and candles marked a path through the ivory roses and lavender beds to a small grassy area beneath an ancient yew dale. Twinkling lights filled the dale, and Ull stood at its base with a small jewelry box in his hand, a nervous smile on his perfect face
.
Mormor didn’t raise no dummy. This was one vision I wanted to see for myself. Besides, I had to know if there was any truth to my ridiculous theory.
My heart pounded so fiercely that I thought it might break free from my ribcage. I pulled myself back to the present and stood without hesitation, putting my hand in Ull’s. “You win. What do I pack?”
“WHERE EXACTLY ARE WE
going?” I asked as Ull loaded my suitcase into the back of the black Range Rover.
He winked. “A place that is very special to me. Someplace I hope you will feel right at home.”
I was grateful Ull had at least told me what to pack – comfortable clothes for weather much like this, and a pair of rain boots for walks. And he’d promised to have me home in time for class on Tuesday morning – I never signed up for Monday classes; Ardis taught me that trick freshman year.
“I am glad you came.” Ull helped me into the front seat with a kiss on my cheek. My heart fluttered, and I tried to remember that this was the same guy who had nearly annoyed me to death yesterday, and ignored me to death last week. I couldn’t get over the shock I felt at each touch or the way my vision swam in and out of focus any time I looked at him. His endless supply of fitted sweaters didn’t help either. If this kept up, I was going to suffer a stroke at a tragically young age.
An hour later, Ull steered the car off the main road, heading toward a collection of row houses sheathed in ivy. We followed a winding river through the main part of town, passing a small cobbled sign that read “Welcome to Bibury.” We continued past two separate fields of sheep and drove through a small drive framed by trees until we came to a cottage.
Ull parked and got out of the car. I kept my tush firmly planted in the passenger’s seat until Ull came around and opened my door for me. I didn’t want to knock him out. As a rule, I tried not to repeat my more mortifying mistakes.
He held out a hand as I stepped down, pausing next to a small fountain in the center of the drive. The cobblestone cottage had an aged roof and an unsteady-looking chimney. Soft lights from the windows welcomed us, and the smell of lavender mixed with moss filled the country air.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. It was from the pages of a fairy tale. I thought of my favorite childhood story, Cinderella, then snuck a glance at my sometimes Prince Charming. “Um, Ull? Everything all right?”
He rubbed his brow and let out a low chuckle. “I am happy you like it. I was afraid you might find it too…” he searched for the right word. “Quaint. It has been in my family for a long time.” It seemed like he wanted to say more. “Come inside, Kristia. There is someone I want you to meet.”
Ull opened the azure door and ushered me into the house. A kindly, white-haired woman in a ruffled apron flitted from the kitchen with open arms. “Ull!” A smile lit her face as she set her eyes on him. “Welcome home! Ýdalir has missed you!” Ull greeted her with a warm hug, coming back to me with a smile to match the woman’s. “Ahh, I see. So this is what has kept you so busy these past few weeks. Well, let me look at you, dear.”
I stepped forward shyly, feeling the woman’s happy eyes on me. “
Ja, ja. Vaer så god
.” Mormor had taught me enough Norwegian to figure out I had met the woman’s approval. Ull laughed.
“Kristia, may I present Olaug. For all intents and purposes, my grandmother. She lives nearby and is good enough to take care of this cottage when I am away. We have her to thank for the lovely fire – is that apple wood? And for what I am sure will be a delicious supper.”
I held out a hand, but Olaug laughed and pulled me in for a hug. “My dear, none of that. Come you two, sit! Eat! Everything is on the table in the garden. Ull, I do hate to be rude, but I must get home – the boys are visiting for the weekend. Please come for Sunday brunch so you can meet everyone, Kristia.” With a hug for each of us, she was off into the night, humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar.
Ull smiled and closed the front door. He took my coat from my shoulders and hung it on one of the hooks below the mirror in the entry. “Well,” he questioned. “Dinner or tour?”
“Tour please.” I couldn’t wait to see the rest of the cottage. “So what is this place?”
“This,” Ull began, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine, as comfortably as if he’d been doing it all his life, “is my country home, Ýdalir.”
He had a country home. And it had an even crazier name than he did.
“I don’t get to come here much at the moment, school being as it is this time in the term, but this is the place I feel happiest. I have much that makes me anxious, but I forget all of that when I am here.” He led us down a small hallway to a study. “This is where I keep my favorite books and reading chair.” He gestured to a well-worn leather loveseat and matching ottoman nestled in the corner.
“Over here,” he led me to another room, containing a queen-sized four-poster bed, dresser, and writing desk, “is the guest room you will be staying in.” Oh, thank God there was a guest room. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Ull was the consummate gentleman, but it was still a relief to have my own room. I was already out of my element, no need to make life even scarier than it already was.
“Back here is the master suite,” Ull finished simply.
Master wasn’t a grand enough word. The room was huge – considering the relatively small size of the cottage – with an antique-looking, king-sized sleigh bed, padded bench, and built in closets that I suspected held a tiny sampling of Ull’s exquisite wardrobe. Ull waited patiently as I made my way around the room, lightly touching everything to make sure it was real. I stopped when I reached the door to the bath. The jetted tub was as generously proportioned as the master suite. What the cottage offered in country charm, this bathroom offered in modern opulence.
“This is your room?”
Ull laughed. “Ah, the best is yet to come.”
I seriously doubted that. But he opened the bedroom’s French doors to reveal a charming garden, up-lighting illuminating the aged yew dale that had watched the house’s activity for at least a hundred years. Pale roses and fragrant lavender surrounded the grassy courtyard from my earlier vision, and in the center a cobblestone patio held a table set with silver candlesticks and glowing tapers. Twinkle lights from another nearby tree added a degree of whimsy.
Ull held out a chair, offering me the seat. He sat opposite me and opened the baking dish to reveal a hearty meal of roast, potatoes, and carrots. We ate until we were full, Ull asking about my childhood and listening with interest as I droned about the annual field trip to the lumber yard, my time spent hiking in the forests with Ardis, and how Bryan Ash beat me in the third-grade spelling bee.
He listened as if my life had been as fascinating as his must be, and I found myself revealing more and more as the evening went on. It was only when I realized that dusk was falling that I had the good sense to stop babbling. But Ull didn’t seem to mind my chatter. After a generous helping of Olaug’s homemade apple pie, he led me on a stroll through the garden.
We leaned with our forearms on the low, stone fence that made up the back wall, and watched the sheep grazing in the pasture behind the house. I snuck a glance at Ull, and was surprised to see that he was tense. “You all right?”
He sighed. “Kristia, I have something to tell you. And I do not know if you will like it.”
Well that killed the mood. “Okay.” I steeled myself for the worst.
Ull took a deep breath. “Kristia, I want to share my world with you.”
What did
that
mean? “Come again?”
Ull smiled. “I know, kind of out of left field, right?”
“Maybe.” I tugged at the wrists of my sweater nervously. “I don’t understand.”
“You and I together… is a very complicated situation. And you need to know something about me before I can properly court you.”
“Okay,” I said as he turned to me. I’d never heard anyone say ‘court’ outside of a Jane Austen novel.
“Kristia.” He drew small circles on my palms with his thumbs. I forced myself to stay standing. “Have you noticed anything different about me?”
I held my breath. If my hunch was right, Ull was about as different as anyone could possibly be. I’d been stewing on this for a week. It was the only explanation I could come up for Ull’s behavior in the nightclub, the link to his stepdad, Ull’s bizarre name… If it was true, and I was almost positive it was, it was so out there nobody would ever believe me. I knew I couldn’t just ask Ull about it. A secret this big wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to pry out of someone. Ull had to want to tell me for himself.
“You’re a pretty different guy,” I evaded. “Though you do seem to have an above-average relationship with your florist.”
“I am different. I am not exactly like you. I am not from here.” Ull clasped his hands. He was really anxious.
“I know,” I said softly.
“No, you do not. I told you I was from Norway, but that is not exactly true.”
“Where are you from, Ull?” I already knew the answer. But I needed to hear it from him.
“Asgard,” he whispered.
“Asgard,” I repeated. I’d pretty much accepted it, but Ull’s confirmation fell like a bomb. “The Asgard, Asgard.”
“Yes.” Ull stood still, waiting.
I exhaled. “Sif is your mom, isn’t she? The Goddess of Beauty that Professor Carnicke talked about. And Thor is your stepdad.”
“Yes.”
“And that makes you…”
“Ull. God of Winter. Warrior and protector of Asgard.” He lifted his chin an inch higher. But his eyes betrayed his fear. He had to be wondering how I was going to react. For the briefest of moments I contemplated the impossible.
“It’s okay, Ull. I figured as much.” I reached over to touch his arm.
“What?”
“I figured.”
“How could you possibly figure a thing like that? It should seem preposterous to a human.”
“I didn’t say it doesn’t seem preposterous. I just said I figured it out. Yesterday, when you were talking about your family and the dark future. And in the nightclub, when you actually disappeared into thin air. I started to wonder about it that day in the quad when you let your dad’s name slip. And you skipped town the day Professor Carnicke talked about you. Though I wasn’t positive it was you at the time. Ull, you sit by me in Mythology class.
Mythology
. Not the best plan for a deity trying to fly under the radar.” I shivered as I said what he was. Despite my nonchalance, I was freaking out on the inside. Ull was an actual god. What did that even mean?
“You are okay with what I am?” He gripped my hands tightly.
“It makes me a little nervous,” I admitted. “Most of my dates haven’t ended with the guy telling me he’s divine.”