Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (40 page)

They followed the Njorkma and the Njema, who now bore the white cloth to a long table in the back of the room and hung it on the wall behind it.

“What about this cloth?” Arvid asked softly.

“It’s part of the ritual,” Loke said. “I’ll explain when it’s time.”

Arvid shivered. “Does it involve more pain?”

“I hope not.”

Loke helped her to sit on a chair in the center of the table. The Njorkma took a seat on the right, the Njema on the left side of the table, but Loke remained standing. Arvid saw that all eyes were on them. When Loke raised his hand, the whole room fell silent at once.

“Friends and relatives,” he said aloud, “guests from Isvirndjellen, guests from Utstern and Borkh, guests who have found their way from Jördendheim to attend our marriage. On behalf of my family and my future wife, I thank you for your appearance and your contribution to witnessing this event. I hope to be able to call you our guests again tomorrow, when the band of life is sealed, and our connection officially announced. Until then, let us celebrate this day as a day of new hope.”

Loke raised his arms and said a single word that Arvid could not understand, because it again went down in loud applause.

While the guests pitched into the offered food, loudly chattering and laughing, Loke sat down. Arvid felt a little abandoned among all the giants, although Loke had obliged her and taken a slightly smaller shape. Arvid knew that it was no small sacrifice. The wound on his arm would force him to remain like this for several days.

“How are you feeling?” said Loke. He filled a cup with wine and handed it to her.

“A little dizzy,” confessed Arvid, but she still took a small sip of wine. “And you?”

“Me? Fine. But you should eat something. I suggest this here.” He picked up a tray with a nondescript dish that consisted of a kind of green beans. Arvid tasted some of it and was surprised how good it tasted. After her stomach had calmed down, she also tried some of the other dishes, but it was as Ogur had told her shortly after her arrival: the dishes were mostly bland, bitter, or both. Fortunately, familiar things like simple bread and fruit were also served.

Shortly afterwards, guests started to come by their table to congratulate them. Many brought gifts, mostly jewelry. At some point a giantess in dark robes came up to them. Arvid recognized her. Her hair was white on one side, almost black on the other. Although the two colors currently mixed in several pearl-decorated braids, there was no doubt that she was Loke’s daughter Hel.

“My best wishes,” she said huskily. Adhering to tradition she bowed to Arvid and kissed her fingertips, but the smile she gave her was as empty as her eyes. Arvid remembered that she had already noticed this emptiness back in Loke’s house in the mountains.

Hel now turned to Loke, also kissed his hands and then embraced him. “Congratulations,” she said again. “I confess I was surprised to find out that you’re getting married again. And a human woman…”

“It made sense,” said Loke.

Hel laughed. “This answer is very much like you,” she said. “But you’re right. It’s never wrong to marry a soul mate.” She stepped back from the table. “May your days together be numerous and full of successes.”

As soon as she was gone, a small group of people approached, all of them dressed in brown from head to toe. Desrei and Mardun were among them, too. They bowed deeply, then Mardun rose to speak.

“We want to convey our congratulations on behalf of all of Sölunnir’s servants. We didn’t want to bother you with the presence of all of us, my lord, my lady, that’s why I was chosen to speak for all of us.” He tugged at Desrei’s sleeve, and she hastily stepped forward and put something down on the table in front of them. Arvid saw that it was a long chain of small beads in all sorts of colors.

“Our gift,” Mardun said. “It’s not valuable, but we didn’t want to come empty-handed. Each bead of this chain stands for the gratitude and loyalty of one of us.” He stepped back from the table and bowed again.

“Thank you so much,” said Arvid, touched. She let the chain slide through her fingers. She saw that the beads were made of different materials. A few looked like glass; many were made of clay or wood. Arvid glanced at Loke, who looked at the extraordinary gift with an indefinable expression.

“Please express our thanks to everyone,” Arvid said to Mardun. “It’s a wonderful gift.”

He smiled sheepishly and nodded, and Desrei and the others looked happy when they bowed and retreated again.

“Would it be rude if I wore this necklace?” Arvid asked Loke.

“Of course it would,” he replied. “About as rude as inviting all servants to this celebration. But I see that your efforts bear fruit. Every single servant in Sölunnir is at your feet.”

“I didn’t invite them to buy their loyalty!”

“No?” Loke asked mockingly. “Then why?”

“They are people like me! They have few rights. Many giants treat them badly, although they quite naturally and diligently do their job every day. Don’t you think that should be honored somehow?”

“No. It’s their job to do that. Their only job. Do you also want to thank the trees because they bear nuts?”

“That’s hardly the same thing!” Arvid objected angrily. “Do you want to compare a human to a tree?”

Loke’s face darkened, but instead of saying something, he reached for his cup and took a sip of wine. “I really appreciate our arguments,” he said then, “but I think we should move this one to later.”

Although Arvid was angry, she had to agree with him. She refrained from any further comment and took a big gulp of wine herself.

A little later Loke’s brothers turned up, but while Helblindi and his wife disappeared right back into the crowd, Byleist unceremoniously sat down at their table.

“Has mother been here?” he asked, shooed a servant away and poured himself wine.

“No,” Loke said. “She will take her time. Perhaps till tomorrow morning.”

“Who knows. After all the marriage isn’t officially completed before tomorrow.”

“As long as she appears for signing the letters I don’t care.”

Byleist nodded, took a sip of wine and looked at Arvid. “You did well during the ceremony. Not that I ever tried, but… a demon has ripped open my arm once.” He pulled up his sleeve and showed Arvid his arm, which was covered with a huge scar. “I imagine it to be a bit like that.”

Arvid grimaced, but Loke just snorted contemptuously. “You have no idea, Byleist. Why don’t we just find you a woman?”

Byleist guffawed. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, then turned to Arvid and winked. “Loke would secretly swap the rock flour with salt, just to get back at me.”

“Thank you for this wonderful idea,” Loke said.

Although Arvid’s mood had just been anything but good, she now chuckled.

“I’m not going to get married anytime soon anyway,” Byleist said.

“Aren’t you as Isvirndjellen’s heir obliged to marry?” said Arvid.

“Eventually. This must be well considered. A woman from Utstern… Maybe one day even a connection with Borkh might be possible, but at the moment the situation is too tense. Every little thing could provoke a conflict.”

“That’s the official reason,” Loke said with a sidelong glance at his brother. “In fact, he just enjoys bedding a new woman every week.”

Arvid stared at him, dumbfounded, but Byleist just laughed and shook his head. “Rude as always. I hope he is a bit more considerate toward you.”

Arvid forced a smile. “It happens… Sometimes he’s very nice.”

“Really?” asked Byleist, amused. “Then you know a side of him that I never get to see.”

“You don’t deserve to,” growled Loke. “When have you ever spoken well of me?”

“I guess that’s because there’s nothing good to say about you.”

“No?” Loke asked with raised eyebrows. “And thanks to who are you heir to the throne today?”

Byleist waved. “That was all part of your big plan.”

“What kind of plan?” asked Arvid.

“To cast doom and destruction over the world, of course,” replied Byleist. “If we are to believe the oracle.”

Loke’s face showed the hint of a smile. Arvid looked puzzled between the two of them. “The Oracle of the North?”

“Oh yes,” Byleist said, “this is what it prophesied Loke back then. One day he would bring the downfall of this world. This woman is not in her right mind.”

This prediction sounded absurd indeed. Loke might be the god of chaos, but why would he even have the slightest interest in destroying his own homeworld?

“Hmm,” Arvid said. “It also made a very strange prophecy about me.”

Byleist nodded. “Of course we’ve all heard about that.”

“It’s not unthinkable,” Loke said, “just very vague.”

“Vague?” asked Byleist. “The oracle said that Arvid will be responsible for a crucial event in the conflict between humans and demons. This is anything but vague. It had not made such a clearly understandable prophecy in two centuries.”

“But it’s not said when this event will occur, or exactly what it will look like,” said Loke. “It could happen tomorrow or in hundreds of years.”

“Or not at all,” Arvid said. She still thought this prophecy to be absolute nonsense.

“Or not at all,” said Loke. He sipped his wine and looked at her with his gray eyes. Arvid felt a pleasant tingling in her belly. Loke was so beautiful. She would have given anything to kiss him again right now.

Shortly after Helblindi came back, now without his wife, and sat down with them. He was unlike Byleist, prudent, almost silent, not easy to cheer, but obviously a good and interested listener. Byleist told of the new caves that were being created at the moment. They were located quite a bit higher and were colder and more secure.

During the evening it became increasingly difficult for Arvid to concentrate on what was being said. Understanding Old Jördish in detail still required lots of attention and concentration, and as she didn’t really understand much of the subject, her interest was limited. The fact that she almost constantly sipped wine made it no easier.

The cuts on her arm still hurt terribly, burned and itched. Again and again she had to suppress the urge to knead or scratch her bandaged arm. She knew that this would only aggravate the wound.

“Loke, you should take care of your wife,” said Helblindi somewhat reproachfully. The conversation ceased. Three pairs of gray giant eyes turned to Arvid. She started and forced a smile, although she didn’t really feel like it. She felt exhausted.

“I’m fine,” she hastened to assure them, but now the old Njorkma had stood up and approached.

“Let me see.” He looked her in the face carefully. Then he took her bandaged arm, looked at it from all sides and then cautiously ran two fingers over it. Just this fleeting touch made Arvid wince in pain. She saw that the fabric had dark spots on one side.

“Is that normal?” said Loke.

The Njorkma nodded. “It’s not unusual,” he said. “She’s a human.”

“Still, it’s time,” said the Njema and rose also. “It’s better if we wait no longer.”

“Then we don’t want to keep you up,” Byleist said cheerfully, patting Loke on the shoulder. “We’ll make sure the guests have fun without you.”

“I’m sure of that,” said Loke. “You make an excellent jester.”

The Njema had taken the white cloth off the wall. Arvid started to feel uncomfortable again. What would happen now? Loke had said that the white cloth was part of the ritual. Although Arvid tried to convince herself that the worst part already had to be over, she had great fear of another painful procedure.

The Njorkma and the Njema led them along a long corridor. At the end, they stepped through a narrow door and into a magnificent living room. There were tapestries and furs, a small table and several large wooden chests. In the back of the room was a kind of niche in which Arvid saw a richly decorated bed with skins and blankets.

To her relief, it turned out only the bandages should be changed. The sight of the red, gaping wounds underneath was hideous. Although Arvid was unable to take more than a quick look, she could see that not only cuts had been made, but narrow strips of skin had been removed.

The wounds were superficially cleaned, covered with dark red leaves and then tightly bandaged. The cuts began to throb and burn again, but this time it was easier to endure the pain.

“Thanks,” Arvid said, as the Njema rose to clear away the dishes and old bandages. She paused and smiled at Arvid. “You need not thank me,” she said. “I’m honored.”

Before she and the Njorkma turned to leave, they brought the white cloth and handed it Loke with a bow.

“At the fortieth hour we return,” said the Njorkma, “then the last part of the ritual must be completed.”

Loke nodded. The two giants bowed their heads and then left the room.

Suddenly there was silence. It was the first time since the beginning of the ceremony that Arvid was alone with Loke, and it felt strange. She knew Loke. She had often been alone with him. Why was it suddenly so different?

“What about… the cloth?” Arvid asked hesitantly.

Loke turned and looked at her thoughtfully. “It belongs to the last part of the ritual,” he said. “It becomes the key, the element that finally closes and seals the band of life.”

“But what… what is the last part of the ritual?”

“It’s easier if I show you,” Loke said. He walked over to the alcove with the bed, unfolded the white cloth and spread it across the skins. Some of the fine soul gem granules dissolved and floated glittering through the air. Arvid stepped closer, watching as Loke smoothed out the cloth at the corners.

Finally, he straightened up and turned to Arvid. Without comment he undid the buttons of her coat and finally removed it entirely. He untied the straps of her robe and pulled it off while watching Arvid attentively. She suddenly realized that he wouldn’t stop at this point. He continued to undress her, piece by piece, until the bandage around Arvid’s arm was the only piece of fabric that still covered her body. The ground beneath her bare feet was uncomfortably cold, and the hairs on her skin slowly began raise.

Arvid’s heart was in her throat as Loke carefully looked at her and finally reached out to touch her. “You’re beautiful,” he said earnestly, his fingers leaving a cold, tingling track on her shoulder and her arm. He closed his hand around hers and pulled her to the bed, where he grasped her with one arm and gently laid her down on the white cloth in the middle of the skins.

Arvid gasped when Loke sat up and began to get rid of his own relatively light clothing. She watched the thin, smooth fabric of the robes slipping from his body, wiry and slender, yet marked by tight muscles. He pulled off his boots, then his trousers, and was soon as naked as Arvid.

She looked at him and was overwhelmed by his strange beauty, the gray shimmering skin and his dark eyes. At the same time she was so nervous that she even forgot the burning pain in her arm.

“What… are you planning to do?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“You mean we should… you want…?”

“It’s part of every marriage,” Loke said, “even if it is closed for logical considerations. It’s not valid before the partners have physically become one. That’s what the white cloth is there for. It’s part of the rune spell, the last missing piece. It is here to witness this connection.”

For weeks Arvid had longed to be close to Loke, but now she felt a subliminal fear at the thought. Loke was a giant and Arvid much smaller. In addition, he was unpredictable. It was a situation she didn’t know. She wouldn’t have the slightest chance to properly assess anything Loke did. Nevertheless, she finally nodded.