Making Fate

Blades met in a clash of fire, and both were enveloped in it. Not that either could be harmed by it.

Not harmed, no, but I understood that this was a fight not just of arms but of will and fire and who was closer bound to Muspelheim.

I understood then that Surtur was going to win. Oh, it did not appear inevitable to start with, but Muspelheim did not want Helgr.

Was rejecting her, painfully, I heard the gasping of her breath as the blades met again as if I was standing right next to her.

How did I know this? I feared that I knew and understood too much in that moment, too much to stay aloof.

But I also could not help. Had this been treason by Surtur, then it would have been my task and honor to.

Why was this happening?

Fire flickered, and a spark landed at my feet. I jumped back instinctively, as if not yet ready to let it touch me, even though I knew it would not harm me.

Worse, what they were doing was draining the land further. It was my fault.

It was all my fault. “I should have stopped this.”

A hand reached out, pulled me back. An old fire giant. “You could not have stopped her.”

“I encouraged her.”

“Because you believed her right.”

“Because Surtur is insane.”

“Yes.”
And this meant Muspelheim was insane too. Perhaps. Could a realm go mad? Or was it that the king was the land was the king? Something dwarves and giants knew and mortals had once well understood.

Something I knew now.

The king was the land was the king. Surtur’s madness was too deep. The land writhed against his touch, but it was a touch it knew, like a beaten horse that still turned to its master to seek treats.

It was too late. But I had still…the prophecy.

“What can we do?”

“Find somebody who will give themselves to the land without seeking power.”

Then the old fire giant was gone, and I knew he had never really been there.

Or rather, he had, but he was no fire giant.
Give themselves to the land without seeking power. Except if they knew they would get it…

I closed my eyes. If they knew they would get it then it could be no true test.

And then I knew. The king was the land was the king.

The king was also the sacrifice.

There were apparently quite a few formalities. We finally dismounted, and servants led away Helgr’s horse.

They tried to take the steeds too, but neither were willing to leave, snorting at them instead. Thruor shrugged. “Let them watch – they are more intelligent than many men.”

The fire giants seemed to accept this. We moved to the lists, for want of a better term. I was not sure whether this was one of those cases where the challenged chose the weapons, or what the rules were.

I had a feeling this had not happened often. The challenge had to be upheld. There had to be grounds.

And now it would be decided. As Helgr’s second, I handed her her sword. Surtur drew his blade. Their eyes met and I moved back.

I knew this would not take long. Not between two such combatants. A memory. Watching Einherior spar, sometimes against each other, sometimes with Freya’s warriors in the mix.

Thor taking on six of them at once, laughing.

Accepted. But I knew, somehow, I could not go back. The prophecy stood as a barrier between me and that life. Whatever else I remembered, I did not recall or had never known what it said.

Likely had never known. Just that there was a prophecy and the future demanded that I learn.

Learn lessons I had to learn on Midgard.

Learn to love.

The child I had been had had no idea how to do that. Not too much like my father after all.

Too much the reverse of my mother. Understanding the commitment of love and fearing it, fearing it would tear me apart. Right, perhaps, for the daughter of chaos and fidelity.

I had learned to love.

I had learned to accept that it would tear me apart. That it was inevitable, that even if it lasted it would still tear you apart.

That was Sigyn’s lesson. That love was supposed to hurt, and the point was that it was also what put you back together.

With bits of the other person in the way you were. I glanced at Kanesha, watching safe from the sidelines. The necklace glinted at her throat.

Then I turned back to the fighters. It was about to begin, but they held back. A pregnant moment.

A moment in which I sensed the entire world was in the balance. If he won, then the fight continued.

If she did, then it was over.

Yet I still felt that threat, the fire rising and threatening to burn the realms, to explode as it met the ice of Jotunheim.

It felt now as if this was not the solution, but I could not stop it. Not now.

It was far too late for that.

I remembered the fields. I remembered learning to fight. I remembered picking up my first sword.

I remembered handling the runes, but they never spoke to me, proof that was not my path.

It flowed over me and everything settled into a new pattern. I still had no idea what the future would bring and less than no idea what I was meant to be.

But the curse was broken – and that told me I was doing something right. Something the way I was supposed to do it.

Or the way Odin wanted me to. Which I knew suddenly might not mean the same thing. It might not mean the same thing at all.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better,” I whispered. This would work out somehow. I knew that too.

I was not sure if it was what I was born for, but I was determined to be no man’s…or god’s, or giant’s…pawn. I was determined to be what I wanted to be.

Which might also be what I was destined to be. Given what I was, that seemed entirely too likely.

And we rode into the capital of Muspelheim with banners streaming.

“I challenge the king!” Helgr called, whirling her black and red steed. “I call on him.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that he attempted to take a woman against her will. On the grounds of kidnapping and coercion.”

A rumble went through. “Do you have a witness?”

“She does!” I called. “I am the one he sought to wed and bed despite my wishes.”

People backed away. They looked at me. Obviously not a fire giant. Obviously something else, perhaps something more, and with a figure darker skinned than any there (although not, I noticed, by as much as one might have thought) clinging to me.

“You would bear witness to this?”

“I would.” I did not dismount. I did not feel safe to dismount. This was sounding almost like a trial.

A trial by combat.

A challenge.

“Do you…” He tailed off.

“I am Siglaugr Lokisdottir.”

And Kanesha spoke. “And I am Kanesha Clem, and I vouch that he abducted me, although he treated me well.”

More murmurs. I wondered if she’d had to add that.

Then I knew she did. It added honesty. It made them more likely to believe us than if she had spoken of dungeons.

Of course, if he had put her in a dungeon…

That settled that. I wasn’t her owner, I wasn’t going to be her “superior.” If she said no, then no was the answer.

As I digested that (and my sausages), I heard hoofbeats. It was not a valkyrie’s steed.

It was something bigger. And then she rode into the clearing. Helgr, on a black horse with a red mane and tail. “Found you.”

“Could you have been less discreet? That horse has to stand out…”

She grinned. “He’s a fine beastie, isn’t he.”

He was that, and he wasn’t that huge in proportion to fire giant sizes. “Still, were you seen?”

“Who do you take me for?” She dismounted. “You might still need practice at concealment, I don’t.” Then she…nodded to Kanesha. “You have caused quite the stir, mortal.”

She grinned a bit up at the fire giant then stood. I was on my feet too.

Thruor frowned a bit. “Helgr. What do you have in mind?”

“Surtur’s raging, he’s sent fyrhunds and men to hunt you, they’ll close the net soon. Why haven’t you left?”

“He’d just follow us to Midgard.”

She nodded. “Point.”

“Got a good place to hide?”

She shook her head. “We’re past the point of hiding, kid. He’ll find you.”

“Then I’ll have to…”

She sighed. “Did you mean it about not wanting to end up queen?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

Did I? Yeah. I did.

“Then I will try something, but I make no promises.” She smiled. “Challenge him to single combat.”

“Why didn’t you do that before?” Kanesha asked.

“Because I still had hope that things could be salvaged. I fight him. If I win, I become queen. If I lose…” She shrugged. “You guys run. Quickly.”

“You’ll need a second,” Thruor said, grimly.

“Yes, I will.” She considered.

“I’ll do it,” I said, finally. “If I’m your second, that gives me some protection, right?”

“He certainly can’t do anything to you until the fight is over…or for a day and a night afterward. Smart.”

Had I known that?

Part of me had. Or rather, it felt so right to me that I wondered if the Aesir had the same rule, or if it was my own fire giant blood speaking.

I knew. And I knew that this might work…and if it did not, we still got a head start. “Does that extend to people under my personal protection?”

“Yes.”

“Well then. If you…if you’re sure.”

She could die.

“I am. He is no longer fit to be my king.”

She sounded so serious that I knew she would rather die than continue with this. But I did not think Surtur had the honor to be fair in this duel.

I said so.

We camped that night under a flaming tree, its light dimming in the darkness, but still enough that if I was the kind of person to suffer from insomnia – I would never have slept a wink.

As it was, I slept fine, Kanesha curled up against me. She seemed to be having no problems either. Her face when she saw Mike had almost been worth the entire adventure.

I supposed I had got her used to enough weirdness that she could handle more. Now I thought about it, most of the women I knew…

I had, of course, awakened before her, needing less sleep. The dawn came.

Thruor was sitting there making breakfast. “Thanks.”

She grinned.

“No stars?” I added.

“Not in Muspelheim. When you see a star here, then it is always an omen.”

Kanesha stirred and sat up. “What smells so good?”

“Valkyrie cooking, apparently. What is it?”

“I managed to find eggs, sausages and toast.”

I had a feeling fire giant sausages would be spicy. “Really appreciate it. Any idea on our next move?”

“Thinking on it. If I take the two of you back to Midgard.”

“Then there will be more people in danger. I think we need to find an end game.” I sighed. “I don’t want to kill him.”

“I know.”

“And I’ve been told not to to boot.” I considered. “But he’s not going to change his mind. And we certainly can’t stay here. Where are the dwarves?”

“They went to get something.”

I nodded. “And Mike?”

“Over here.” He wandered over and Thruor filled a plate for him.

I wondered at the dead guy needing to eat, then reminded myself it was Muspelheim. This was a spiritual plane, not a physical one.

“I was checking on the horses,” he explained.

I laughed. “Have we made a rider out of you?”

“You know I wanted to be a mounted officer, right?”

I laughed again. “Okay. So, we can’t stay here, we’ll be followed if we go home, and we can’t go to the dwarven halls…”

“I thought of that, but it has the same problem. I think we need to end this here. But we might take Kanesha there.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m staying.”

“If you lose your necklace,” I reminded her.

“I know, but I’m a target too. Without you…”

She had a point. “Okay, yeah. We don’t want you being snatched again, but I think they’d have difficulty snatching…”

She cut me off. “No.”

Of course, it led us to…the kitchens.

The chef blinked as we appeared. “Oh, there you are.”

“Thanks for the food, but we’re checking out now!”

He laughed. “Get.” And he knocked a door open with his foot.

I blinked. “You…”

“I never saw you. You didn’t come this way.”

I was surprised by the unexpected help, but ducked through the door. Storage space, but I could see the tunnel that led to…a back entrance they brought the carts up. We’d almost come up that way.

“Why did he help us?” I asked Kanesha.

“Absolutely no clue.”

I thought of the maid we’d locked in the room. “Maybe Surtur’s a lousy boss.”

“Maybe.” She seemed skeptical, though.

“Or you’ve been winning hearts left, right, and center.”

She blushed.

“You’ve had an effect.”
And I wondered how that would alter things.

“Put the necklace on?” I added.

“Already done.” She grinned. “I’m not stupid. It’s an anti-fire shield, right?”

I nodded. “Surtur didn’t notice it. Maybe because there’s already so much fire magic. Maybe the dwarf that made it for me is just that good.”

“Can I keep it?”

I laughed. “It’s yours.” But I had no intention of ever coming back. We had to get away from the spire.

We had to get away and plan, but a riderless horse came charging towards us. Not Thruor’s steed.

She must have borrowed an extra. But I knew what it was, and I wasn’t ignoring the invitation to mount.

I helped Kanesha up behind me, and the steed turned and charged into the night, sparks striking up from his…somehow I knew his…hooves.

The offspring of Sleipnir.

It occurred to me that the horse I was riding was actually possibly my nephew.

Okay. That was not a good thought to have. I tucked my hands into the mane and clung on as we ran into Muspelheim’s night, lit only by the fires on the mountains and the leaves of the flaming trees.

There were no stars.

The door opened again for lunch and the fyrhund slipped through it. Stupid creature, I thought. Now it was locked in with us.

Kanesha fed him a small part of her lunch. “He needs a name.”

“Not yet.”

She glanced at me.

“Trust me. Not yet. Don’t name him.” I wasn’t sure why I said that to her.

Trust me.

Whatever I was worried about, it extended to her. “But he shouldn’t have come in.”

While he had been outside, then…well.

“Did you put this collar on him?”

“No.”

And then I laughed. Examining the collar revealed a note tucked actually inside it, between the two strips of leather.

It was from Thruor.

It said “Midnight.” That was all, but I recognized her handwriting.

Hopefully they didn’t see it. Hopefully whatever magical bugs were here only worked on audio.

And I was not sure how they were going to deal with the forcefield.

I decided not to worry about it, but gave the fyrhund – who was actually a floppy eared hound, a big one, here – a hug.

He washed my face thoroughly.

Kanesha laughed at that. “Be careful.”

“I can handle a bit of dog slobber,” I noted. “So can you.”

“When I’m not wearing makeup.”

“Which we aren’t.”

And the door opened again. A different maid. “It is time to start getting ready for dinner.”

It felt like it had barely been lunch. She pretty much stuffed me into a red and gold gown, Kanesha into a green one. But she knew how to make women pretty, and I was used to it.

Not used to the tight bodice, but I could get used to it. Think of it as just another shoot, I told myself.

Midnight.

Hopefully we’d even be back there by then. But Surtur was…

…seducing both of us. He didn’t just want Kanesha as leverage, he wanted her support.

Why? I did not think I could understand the why of that. She was a mortal and a rival for my affections, and his initial deal was that he would let her go if I agreed to marry him and never see her again.

Had she said or done something…

…was he falling for her? I hoped not, but it did seem like a logical explanation.

The next morning we were left alone. A maid brought us breakfast. I wasn’t afraid to eat his food – he wasn’t planning on hurting me and if he drugged me I couldn’t help him.

It was delicious. Whoever his chef was, they were good. But I couldn’t come up with a good plan, and I was still wondering where the fyrhund was.

Here, of course, he was solid and could not sneak under doors to get to me, but I knew he was trying to.

I really needed to name him, but for some reason I was afraid to do so. Almost afraid to admit he was “my” dog by any meaningful measure.

I trusted my instincts on the matter. Now I was more awake, I checked the window. It was not barred, but there was no ledge – no escaping that way unless I could shapeshift both of us into birds.

Which Loki had steadfastly refused to teach me. “Hrm. No way out of here without wings.”

Kanesha nodded. “And neither of us can grow them.”

“Theoretically I can, but I don’t really know how.”

She nodded. “But maybe we…”

I hesitated. Then I found myself grinning. “Hush.”

I could not grow wings.

I knew somebody who could. Oh, she didn’t do it very often, but it was part of the suite of abilities.

Thruor.

Valkyries could fly. And she could get us out. Likely one at a time.

If she knew which window to check. Which she didn’t, but it gave me hope. The fact that he hadn’t barred the window meant he didn’t yet know I had anyone with me who could fly.

Or maybe there was a protection I could not see. I looked around, then picked up a crumb of breakfast roll and tossed it out the window.

Blast.

It hit a forcefield. “So much for that anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Surtur knows magic, and probably has people who know more magic. Of course he’d take precautions.”

But that only meant we needed more magic. Better magic.
And Thruor could still get up here even if she couldn’t get in. “But we still…”

Kanesha hrmed. “It would certainly be easier than going down through the castle. Maybe.”

“He’s got a lot of guards and servants.” And while the servants might not be great fighters, they were all giants.

They could impede us.
Still, I wasn’t waiting for rescue. I would never wait around for rescue.