Chapter Twenty

Donata prayed under her breath that calling on a god wouldn’t be considered magical work by her confused body. In truth, it was more of a gift, although one that was rare enough among the Witch population, and nonexistent in any of the other Paranormal races. Donata regularly spoke to Dhumavati, the wretched and unpleasant matron goddess of the Ghouls, as part of her job. It mostly required a properly respectful attitude and the appropriate gifts. Those she certainly had. Now she just had to see if Odin would come for her when he wouldn’t for his own people.

She stood in the meadow where the feast had been held, although on the Monday morning after the Thing, it was quiet and abandoned. The only trace of two nights of guesting were the tiny embers still smoldering where the giant bonfire had blazed for two nights running. But the energy from so many Ulfhednar lingered on, which was why she’d chosen this particular spot.

The predawn silence was broken only by the twittering of birds and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. The sacrifices were aligned neatly before her. It was time.

“Behave yourself, baby,” she whispered to her belly. “I really need this to work.”

Taking slow, deep breaths, she allowed herself to slip into a light trance state. The new wood she’d placed on the fire suddenly flared up as she threw in a set of rune stones she’d had Magnus carve for her. Holding up a sacrifice before her, she called Odin’s name three times.

“Odin, lord of the Ulfhednar, hear me! Your people need you!

“Odin, king of the Norse gods, hear me! Your presence is required!

“Odin, mighty and wise, hear me! I have brought gifts for you!”

The air in the clearing shivered and grew thicker as the universe magnified her call and sent it out over time and space and into the lands of the gods. But there was no answer.

She reached deep, perhaps deeper than she had ever reached before, pushed on by her desperate need to help Magnus and his friends. Despair at her failures roiled in her gut, but she pushed it back down and called on her faith instead. Her great-aunt had always said that Donata had more power than she realized—if that was true, now was the time to find it.

In her mind’s eye, she pictured Magnus, magnificent in their shared passion, bloody from battle, bruised from his encounter with the ghost of his old friend. Images of Freddy, battered and limping, Lora lying white and still in her hospital bed, Astrid with her open smile, and Kari displaying her fierce devotion to her family ran through her head and heart.

“Odin,” she shouted. “I summon thee!”

The smoke from the bonfire billowed up like storm clouds, first gray and then black, eventually transforming into a pair of ravens cawing as they surrounded her, flapping their impossibly large wings and clacking wickedly sharp beaks. Then, with the sound of thunder, a man appeared in front of her.

No, not a man. A god. No man born of woman had ever had that kind of energy and power. It radiated off the figure like heat from a burning building. He stood perhaps ten feet tall, with flowing gray hair and beard, one eye covered with a leather patch. His face was stern and slightly perturbed.

“Who dares to summon Odin?” he bellowed. Then he looked down and saw her. “Hmm,” he rumbled. “Nice gifts.” He gazed at the overflowing cup of mead and the plate with the huge steak and nodded in approval. Then he shrank a bit, until he was a mere eight feet high, and pulled back on his energy until it felt milder, like the warmth of the midday sun. “But why is a Witch calling my name? Where are my people?”

Donata blinked. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by the fact that it had actually worked or by the god’s puzzlement. Gods are rarely puzzled.

“They have been calling to you for months, All-father. The Ulfhednar here and many other places have petitioned you with their prayers and asked for your guidance, and yet you have not come to them. So finally, in desperation, they asked me to try.” She bit her lip. “Well, in all honesty, a couple of them asked me. Not all.”

“Months, you say?” Odin scratched his bearded chin. “It has not seemed so long to me, but then, time is different in the Upper Regions. I have been, shall we say, a little preoccupied.” He preened a bit. “The goddess Idunn came to me and offered her favors so sweetly, and every time I would have turned away to tend to my duties, she seduced me anew.”

“Is that so?” Donata asked, suddenly suspicious. Call it Witch’s intuition, but it seemed odd that Idunn, the goddess of youth and springtime, should suddenly decide to embark on a spicy love affair with Odin right at the time when his people needed him the most.

“And you were so absorbed by her, uh, attentions that you could not hear the Ulfhednar’s prayers or petitions?”

He shook his head. “I have heard nothing. Have there been so many? Perhaps most were merely the daily prayers and devotions; I confess, I often pay little attention to such things.”

“Alas, no, great All-father. The Ulfhednar have been plagued by visitations from those who have passed beyond the veil and should have been frolicking in Valhalla. They have been calling upon you to help them and are in despair because you have abandoned them in their hour of need.”

Odin’s one-eyed gaze sharpened and he grew larger again as if a more massive form was needed to contain his anger. “The dead walk here? What is this blasphemy? How is it that I have not heard such urgent prayers?” He glanced around as if to find someone to blame.

Donata cleared her throat and braced herself to give a god bad news. Not a god who was known for his calm temperament either. “I mean no disrespect, Wise One, but might I suggest that it is a strange coincidence that the lovely Idunn suddenly became so enamored of your company right at the time when you could least afford to be distracted?”

Emotions raced across the god’s face, warring with one another: indignant denial, offended pride, anger, and finally, something that looked like reluctant respect. But when he turned his countenance on Donata, anger was at the forefront. Thankfully, it appeared not to be aimed at her.

A staff appeared in his hand, much like the one the Ulfhednar used at their gathering, and he thudded it on the ground, making the entire clearing shake. “Idunn, you treacherous bitch,” he roared. “Attend your king this instant!”

A swirl of smoke that smelled of ripening blossoms and fresh new grass burst out of the bonfire and solidified into a stunning blond woman with hair that floated gently to her ankles, bright blue eyes the color of a robin’s egg, and a guileless expression. Pale pink robes wafted around her, translucent enough that they revealed more than they hid. One hand held a golden apple.

“You called for me?” she said in tones sweeter than the most melodic birdsong. “We have barely finished our latest dance of pleasure and you are already eager for another? Truly, you are the king of the gods.”

Then she took a closer look around and made a face, wrinkling her snub nose adorably. “My darling, what is this place? And who is that?” She waved the hand not holding the apple in Donata’s general direction. “I do not object to dallying with a woman, but surely not a Witch. And not in a filthy meadow. Really, Odin. Where do you get your ideas?”

“I think a better question might be, where do you get yours, Idunn?” Odin said, fixing her with a glare from his one eye. “For instance, where did you get the notion to come to my bed now, after all these eons? And how, for that matter, did you manage to keep me so absorbed in your charms that I could not hear my own people crying out for help?”

Idunn sighed dramatically and suddenly looked marginally less irresistible. “It is not my fault, Odin. Or at least, it was not my idea. I was summoned by one who knew the old ways and offered many sacrifices and lovely gifts if I would merely divert your attention until after the winter solstice.”

She held out one slim arm to show off a glittering bracelet of gemstones and gold. “Look, is it not beautiful?” A delicate pout formed on her full lips. “It has been such a long time since any have worshipped me as they should. How could I say no?” She winked at him. “Besides, we have had fun, have we not? What is the harm?”

“The harm,” Donata said in a firm tone, not as intimidated by talking to a goddess as others with less experience might be, “is that Odin’s Ulfhednar have suffered because he was too focused on you to be able to tune in to his connection to those he created.” She narrowed her eyes. “How is that even possible, no matter how beautiful and sexy you are?”

Idunn preened at the compliments. “Oh, well, I might have had a teensy bit of help. The one who gave me the gifts also gave me a vial of some herbs to add to Odin’s drink. Just a few drops, but they said it would make Odin forget about anything but me. It was nice to be the center of his attention for a while.”

“You did what?” Odin roared.

The goddess shrugged, clearly less sorry about her actions than disappointed that she had been caught.

“The one who called you was an Ulfhednar?” Donata asked. It was hard to imagine who else would be capable of calling a Norse goddess.

“Of course,” Idunn said. “Someone of influence and importance, obviously, although I did not bother to ask for a name. What, did you think it was a Witch? I am hardly likely to come when some Witch calls me.”

“Depends on how loud she yells,” Odin muttered into his beard. The ravens cackled. “What are you considering, Witch? That one of your kind was involved in this trickery?”

“Well, the Ulfhednar are not exactly known for creating potions, All-father. But I suppose that someone willing to buy a diamond bracelet and other showy gifts would also be capable of hiring a Witch to make such a thing. I’m afraid that not all Witches worry about what the consequences of their actions might be.”

Odin glared at Idunn. “Nor all goddesses, apparently.” He pointed the staff at his erstwhile lover. “Be gone from my sight, Idunn. And best you stay gone for a cycle or two around the sun, to give me time to forget this treachery.” He gave a howl, and two giant wolves suddenly appeared. Idunn shrieked as they chased her into the smoke of the fire, leaving Donata standing in an otherwise empty field with Odin.

“Why would anyone go to so much trouble to keep me from my people?” he wondered aloud. “This is a strange thing.”

“Clearly someone is targeting some of those who are training to be Ulf,” Donata told him. “They are the only ones being haunted, as far as I can tell. But as to why someone would want to do that, I frankly have no idea.” She smiled at him. “I can tell you, though, that your Ulfhednar will be very happy and relieved to know you have returned.”

Odin nodded. “No doubt, no doubt. You are friends with the local clan, I take it?”

“I am.” One hand crept to her belly reflexively, and she quickly moved it away.

“Good,” he said. “Tell the Lawspeaker to gather my people together as the sun sets and I will come to them and reassure them of my continued love and affection.”

“I am sure they will be overjoyed,” Donata said. But then her face fell. “Unfortunately, this doesn’t solve the problem of the ghosts. Is there anything you can do to keep them from leaving Valhalla and coming back here?”

The god frowned. “I will have to look into this. I cannot understand how the spirits of the honored dead are returning or, for that matter, why. They have all they could ever want in Valhalla. None should wish to leave.”

One of the ravens cawed loudly. “Ah, but in the meanwhile, Huginn reminds me that I can still do something to help those who are affected.”

He waved his staff at the fire, and sparks of multicolored light flew up. Small rectangular pieces came flying out of the ashes. As they landed in a pile at her feet, Donata could see that they were the rune stones she’d thrown into the flames. They should have been burned to cinders, but somehow they’d been transformed into some hard substance that seemed like a cross between metal and stone. All the runes originally carved into the surfaces had been replaced with a single rune symbol: Algiz, for protection.

“Give these to those who strive to become Ulf. It is a noble pursuit and this will keep them safe from ghosts until they have achieved their goals or failed respectably without interference from another. Tell them to wear these charms or keep them upon their persons, and they shall be under my shield.”

Odin gave her one more piercing look. “As for you, Witch, you have done a great service for my Ulfhednar, and I shall not forget. Now seek you out those who would harm my people, and stop them, in my name. This task you have started, and so you must finish. Honor depends upon it.”

After that somber pronouncement, he swirled his cloak, walked back into the smoke, and disappeared. The ravens dived in after him in a flurry of wings, and the fire went out with a whoosh, leaving the coals cold and lifeless.

Donata didn’t know whether to cheer or weep. On the one hand, she had finally managed to succeed in part of what she’d come to Gimle to do; Odin would speak to the Ulfhednar again, and the Ulf candidates should be protected from the ghosts who had been causing so much trouble. She leaned over and scooped the transformed rune stones into the leather bag she’d used to bring them there.

On the other hand, she was no closer to knowing who was causing the problems in the first place. Plus she’d discovered that whomever it was had the power to call a goddess and probably had a Witch working either for or with them. Something told her that today’s triumphs weren’t going to be the end of the matter. Not by a long shot.