Tracking the Bear (Blue Ridge Bears Book 1)(31)
Chapter Eleven
Lucy
The sky was empty above me, and the ground far, far below was barren. I hung somewhere between heaven and what lay at the bottom. The only thing I could see in the gloom was the impossibly huge tree. Its branches extended far above my head, disappearing into the inky blackness that was the night sky in this strange place.
The tree might have been an enormous ash tree at one point. Rot had crept beneath the bark, and insects swarmed over its surface.
“Yggdrasil is dying.”
I flinched away from the new voice. Experience was quickly leading me to believe that the life of a hermit would be best. Most of the people I’d met in the last few weeks hated me, or had tried to kill me. Sometimes both.
A gentle hand clasped my shoulder and I turned my head to catch sight of the speaker.
At first, I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I thought she was beautiful. She wasn’t the idea I’d measured myself against all through my child and young adulthood. She wasn’t especially tall or leggy. She wasn’t slim like Brandi or Millie, either.
She was nearly as voluptuous as me, with pleasantly rounded hips and a bust that strained at the thin linen dress she wore. Her fiery hair was piled atop her head in a loose bun. Her eyes examined the tree, instead of me, which was the only reason I was daring to breathe.
My most recent encounter with Freyr was still fresh in my mind. That, along with the histories and myths that Chance had shared during our long days of hiking, made me almost certain of the woman’s identity. But it wasn’t possible, was it? She was dead. Which meant I was talking to a ghost. Regular old ghosts were bad enough. What would the ghost of a goddess do if I pissed her off?
“Um…what?” I finally managed. She turned her head slightly and I caught the briefest glimpse of an amused smile on her full, perfect lips. The sudden urge to kiss her seized me. I hadn’t ever felt such fierce desire before meeting Chance, and even then, it was reserved only for him. It was weird, since I’d never had that particular urge before. But the longer I looked at her soft countenance, I realized why.
I doubted anyone who looked at her could help but love her. She was love. Freya, from all the accounts that Chance had given me, was supposed to be a Goddess of Love. I’d seen Greek mythology in movies and on television, and thought that maybe she was the contemporary of Eros or Aphrodite. But it wasn’t just sexual love that the sight of Freya inspired.
A dizzying barrage of pictures flitted through my mind. Images of family and friends. Lazy afternoons on the porch with Luke and Millie, talking and waiting for the sun tea to steep. Mom and Dad curled up on the sofa, watching the morning news while Aunt Carol, single then, braided my hair before school. The embraces of my teammates after a hard game. Millie assuring me I was alright. Millie driving me home.
And on top of all that, warmth unfurled like a flower in my belly. My hand dropped to my stomach, and I swore I could feel the phantom kick of a child.
“Was that a baby?” I gasped, pressing my hand harder against my stomach. It felt as flat as ever.
“It could be.” Freya shrugged. “It is a possibility. A faint maybe. If you both survive, there will be children in your future.”
“What is this place?” I wondered aloud. “It looks creepy as hell. Why is the world tree dying?”
Freya pursed her lips. “Because I decided to kill it.”
“What? Why?”
She shook her lovely head, as if that were the wrong question to ask. Geez, I could see how she and Freyr were related. They were both vague and extremely unhelpful.
“Without Idun’s apples to sustain them, the Aesir and the Vanir will both die. The dark and light elves will fight for control of their respective remains, if the frost giants don’t get to them first.”
“You wanted a war?” I said, taken aback. “Why would the Norse Goddess of Love want war?”
“I do not want war. It is the fallout of my choice, but I did not want it to come to that.”
“If you don’t want war, then come back with me,” I urged. Maybe if I brought his sister back, Freyr would forget this stupid war. I could go back to being myself, with my shitty life. Well, less so because I now had Chance to return to.
“I cannot,” she said simply, her gaze flicking to the distant branches above us. “Even if I wished to, there is no way for me to return.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “There’s got to be a way.”
“Thor’s strike threw me from Asgard but I did not land in any of the nine worlds on Yggdrasil’s branches. In short, I’m in a sort of limbo. I faded from Heimdall’s sight because I am essentially nowhere.”
Fear slid like a shard of ice into my stomach, chasing away the warm maternal feelings I’d had only minutes before. “If this is limbo, then how am I here with you?”
She smiled wanly. “Because my clever brother has earned himself a favor or two from half-born Hel. He sent the spirit of a shield maiden to you. She trekked through here, on her way to you. Her spirit alone allows me to speak to you. When you wake, I will be beyond reach once again.”
“Don’t you have any sentiments you’d like to pass on then?”
She nodded gravely, drifting over to the trunk of the tree. Its gargantuan size made even the goddess seem like a mere insect in comparison. She brushed her fingers gently over the rotted wood.