Hellbound

CHAPTER 1

LADY HEL

Helheim

O la, where are you? Lady Hel paced before her tufted, black leather throne seat in her stark white room and continued to cast her gaze on her scrying mirror. Her inky-black hair flowed loosely behind her as she stomped in her leather and metal boots. She popped and un-popped her wrists, and sparks of magical fire flicked from her fingertips. The green and red magic wafted upwards like steam. She stirred it, allowing the magic to rise up her darkened arm. The green was new, different, and surely a sign of Harley.

The door to her throne room swung open.

The bitterness of grief rested on her tongue. Siegfried, I asked not to be disturbed.

Garmr, her wolfhound, rose from his position next to her throne. He came to her side, and growled in the direction of the now-opened door.

In walked Verdandi, one of the sisters of fate, in a cloud of sugary perfume. Appearing youthful with multicolored hair, she approached. She scanned the room.

Great to finally see you resettling back into the realm of the dead, Lady Hel, on the throne where you belong, Verdandi said.

Her realm was just that, the place where the dead continued to exist, but all realms continued to have their place, rarely mixing.

I know you have your reasons for helping me? Lady Hel questioned.

Verdandi nodded. There is a reason for everything, dear Hel. The broken always need something to help them overcome, a chance to cope and move forward. Through the help of a tribe, the victors rise. I can help all of those broken shards come together, mend wounds, and reveal the hidden.

Hel sighed. Over the years, Verdandi had always spoken in riddles, not quite concise or clear. How does Sif fit into this? Hel asked.

Sif, the gods’ chosen one, was now in Asgard, and so far, she’d been a catalyst used by the gods to begin this unstoppable wheel of destruction.

She has her place in this plan. You must rest assured and do as instructed, dear, as that is the best way to get the most benefit and to be reunited with your love.

Hel attempted to ignore that bit, as surely it was just the bait to keep her on the hook. Her love, Harley, was dead, buried in the ground with her own two hands, and unable to descend to her side, lost to her somewhere in the realms, unknown.

Grief throttled her. Everyone spoke of love, but no one prepared you for great loss.

If she closed her eyes, for the briefest of moments, she could almost imagine him there and smell him nearby, feel his comforting presence around her. They’d only been together for a couple of weeks in his latest incarnation before Thor had killed him.

Thor, the one god who always wanted the best for Midgard, and who’d spiked her ire.

How long had the gods stood on their necks, not allowing them to rise? They would pay. This was her desire, even if it took everything she had. They took away the only thing which made her existence worthwhile—love.

Harley had made her body burn. Even more, he’d made her heart feel whole. No more of a life lived in shadows, but with a fulfilled sense of purpose.

No scrying helped, as if the gods had hidden him from her.

Verdandi ignored her question. What you have in mind is quite dangerous, Hel. Yet, that at least is better than simply licking your wounds.

Hel straightened her shoulders. Regrouping for the next phase was not the same as licking her wounds. In dealing with Verdandi, she’d long ago stopped caring about her delivery, but more of the end result.

Well then, I take it you’ve come to bring me news of what is next? Hel took a seat on her throne. Or at least to suggest where this ever-growing list of things will go? It wouldn’t be long before her brothers and father arrived and would want to know the new plan—how do they bounce back after the latest perceived failure? Better, of course.

You needn’t worry about your Ola, Verdandi said. Send her to City Hall, and there she will encounter the false dark elf. She needs to exit that realm so that she will not be affected by the coming time shift. Once there, you will send word to her as to what she must do.

Verdandi quirked a smile, and Lady Hel knew that something else rested just behind her grimace.

Verdandi melodic chant rang out, and on the far wall, an image appeared, first a haze until a figure took shape. Ola? Hel asked Verdandi.

Above, the gods are attempting to rewind everything to how it once was. There is much that they cannot do. Pockets will remain, and in those pockets, others will arise—allies, who wish only for a chance to fight at your side and stare the gods in the eyes. Njord is heading to Midgard to help.

Another opportunity? Hel asked. There was always a story in motion, her seeking the truth, connections, and reparations for the gods’ failure.

Opportunities are all around us. It is up to you to use them. Verdandi shifted on her feet.

With nine worlds, twenty-two heavens, Freyja’s hall, gothic in architecture, with large buttresses, vaulted ceilings, and adorned with gold, the limestone hall was the place I called home.

Are you sure the crown can help?

Lady Hel knew she could trust Verdandi about as far as she could push the universe into another realm. Verdandi was in this for her own purposes, a purpose not revealed, and not asked.

For so long, you’ve been treated as less, and no one has regarded you as more. The gods cursed you. This shall be your chance of true redemption. When I found you, I knew this was the opportunity you needed, dear Hel.

Found?

When you were just a speck of dust cradled in your mother’s womb, I knew what you would become, and intervened so that you would not die. Of course, they would have sought to kill you. I—I aim to bring you your crown, dear Queen, goddess of Helheim."

Hel knew that this would not be a path of gold and roses, but more of broken promises and thorns.

I’ve been here to show you those things, and to help you get to where you must be. For this to work, you need to embrace the power of life. And for that, you will need the crown, the Alder King’s crown. We go after the crown. Then you can resurrect your king.

She watched Ola pass over. The scene quickly shifted, and high above the city, in a self-contained pocket, she saw more elves pile into Midgard led by their deadly inquisitor, Arma.

Oh, now this is getting interesting. Hel clapped.

It’s just the beginning of death and destruction.

CHAPTER 2

LADY HEL

Helheim

Siegfried, Lady Hel’s faithful servant, opened the large French doors. In stalked her sullen father, Loki, with her brothers Fenrir and Vali, still in their wolf appearance.

I take it you have finished your tour? she asked, and nodded at Siegfried. Leave us, she announced to the waiting throng, all ready to see and serve her.

With the room empty of spectators, snow and ash mixed, fluttering in bright benign swirls of varying shades of gray, red, green and blue—a mutual recognition of the beauty of life and death.

Lady Hel sat on her throne in Helheim, tapped her chin with her blackened hand, and observed her brothers, Fenrir and Vali pace in wolf-form. Seated, she stared out at her family. They appeared almost joyful in just being together.

Encased in the white room, the walls shimmered, then glistened, and the mirror-filled wall projected the time, place and people of her liking. This was the closest she’d be to omniscient, and all-knowing—big brother style.

Her other brother, Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent, rested in the underwater caves, far from the torrential river, where he could sleep until the perfect time.

We lost, and they have again made a mockery of us, Fenrir growled.

As expected, the gods had responded and not only had they rewound time, and set Midgard back as it once was, they’d also taken Sif with them to Asgard. No more was Midgard a dystopian overran by dark elves. Jörmungandr had helped to clean up any of the dark elves who’d remained.

She shrugged. Casualties of war, of course, accompanied every great battle.

Hel had achieved that which she’d wanted and freed both of her brothers from their captivity. Now it was time to move on to the next point in her plan. Everything else was of no consequence.

The old Lady Hel might have returned to her kingdom and ruled without a thought, but they’d taken away her love, her Harley. This was a prime opportunity to go after what she wanted while the gods might be distracted.

They would feel her wrath. There was no other ending until she squared off with them.

Harley had been her everything, and they’d taken him.

Everything would fall into place, as the great women of fate, the Norns, had predicted. She was the goddess of death.

Do not worry, dear brother. This was expected, and wanted, Lady Hel assured Fenrir.

Her gaze shifted over to her father, Loki, who slouched and still plucked off petals from another blue flower. His energy lacked its usual golden luster, appeared muted and black.

You were not supposed to get that close to dear Sif, father. Hel crossed her arms. She’d seen him infatuated many times, but never like this, never to this extent. It was as though he couldn’t shake it.

She was such a bright light, he whispered.

She is also destined to belong to Thor, Hel reminded him. Or have you forgotten that you are not welcomed in Asgard? There was no way he’d ever be able to be near her again, and that, too, was just another casualty of it all. Who knew the god of mischief could fall so hard? Women were usually benign to him. How was Sif different? You weren’t thinking. This is bigger than just that of your heart. Stay focused. You know the plan.

With a flick of his fingers, the blue flower disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Loki pulled himself up to his full six-foot-two height and chuckled, lighting up his ocean blue eyes. Should I have some objections to this masterful plan? After all, this is my design. He paused. Dear daughter, forget not that I am the one behind this grand scheme. I understand my role, as do you. Where do we stand?

Ola has her assignment to begin the next phase of our plan. Still, I need to know that you will be ready to strike should this not go as you like.

Never doubt the one whose seed you are, dear. To make the gods crumble, it must happen from within. His wide and warm smile spread across his oval face. He ran his hand through his dark wavy hair.

Where is Ola? Fenrir asked.

She is in position.

Soon they will start the grand rewind, and she will need to escape before that begins, Loki instructed.

She will make it.

Did you tell her the cost, and that she needs to not consume anything while away from Midgard, or she cannot return? Loki asked. For the way the realms work, they require that you remain pure, and the way you enter is the same way you must leave, or you will be tethered to that realm.

We mustn’t worry, as Ola is brilliant and apt. She is a wielder.

For them, it is even more difficult, as she has the power within to bring glorious light, should she land not in Alfheim, but head to the land of the dark elves.

You worry too much. Right now, we must concern ourselves with the crown.

Her beloved Harley was the Alder King, and even Odin’s absurdity wouldn’t erase him from the history of Hel’s heart. Even if she had to march into Asgard—the home of the gods—and tear down his throne one brick at a time.

Love knew no boundaries, and even the gods wouldn’t stop her.

Loki nodded, crossed his arms and together, the three, united by one blood, waited for the dystopian world to be erased.

In the grand mirror, they watched the world rewind and slowly return to how it once was.

Except now magic would exist. The veil had been pierced, the lost stars would again find light, and out of the shadows, the monsters would come.

CHAPTER 3

THOR

Richmond

Aputrid stench rose from the still waters.

There were always losers in the fight of good versus evil, and Midgard—Earth—had received that award.

The world was in a state of godly rebellion, and even water refused to obey. Thor had heard Freyja’s words ring throughout the realms, etching it into the bark of Yggdrasil that time should be undone in