Chapter Nine
A David Attenborough impersonator narrated my inner monologue as Fauna led me through the city.
One of nine realms, álfheimr is as beautiful as it is vast. The bright, mountainous branch on Yggdrasil’s tree contains as many cities, villages, and isolated farmsteads as the Scandinavian nations who observe it. A first-time visitor to these lands should make their way first to the precariously perched city of Kletti. One might find its colorful homes reminiscent of those lining the Danish canals, Icelandic harbors, or Norwegian fjords. All visitors would be wise to book their stay overlooking the infinite rivers that hold our beautiful realm in their sparkling embrace. Tourists seeking a more modern experience would be pleased to find state-of-the-art skyscrapers sandwiched between wooden stave churches and stone fortresses. Past and present, modernity and decay all find their place in Kletti, as will you, dear traveler, for the low, low price of your sanity.
I hadn’t closed my mouth in twenty minutes. Fauna tried to manually shut it for me at one point, but it had just fallen back open when we’d rounded the next corner. At some point, my brain had stopped recording new material. I was too overwhelmed by the combination of ancient relics, and the spectacular majesty of new, flashy brilliance. I wish I knew more names of crystals, as I was pretty sure moonstone and labradorite were only two of the twenty on the list of building materials. Everything from home to business looked like it had been carved from crystal, stone, wood, glass, or steel.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Fauna said, “or I’d find this embarrassing.” I shielded my eyes as she stepped into a light so bright it hurt to look at. She approached what I could only describe as an opalescent coffee kiosk and leaned over the counter, ordering god knows what in some dialect of Old Norse that I’d never even come across in my studies, let alone heard out loud. She returned with two cups of hot mead and two slices of an air-thin pancake that an untrained eye might call a crêpe, but I knew to be the potato-based lefse my grandmother had made every Christmas.
“I don’t want lefse,” I said. “I want to find help.”
“Then give it back,” she said, extending her hand for the treats.
“…I want both things,” I replied, yanking the mead and lefse out of her grasp.
“That’s right. Be grateful.”
“Oh, you’ve done plenty to me,” I said through a mouthful of food.
“I could have taken us right to Ella and Estrid’s, but I would have been doing you a disservice if I didn’t show the place off a bit,” she said with a wink.
I didn’t want to sightsee, but I also couldn’t risk alienating my friend and ally by pushing her further on her oath. So, we took the scenic route. The mountain was large enough that I barely felt the incline as I trailed behind her. I caught glimpses of water peeking between gaps in the buildings on one side, and the rise of the mountain and rows after rows of streets, homes, businesses, and city on the other.
Every street, every statue, every manicured garden and storefront and home and building deserved whatever drop of awe I could muster. While Fauna had said that her city was cradled between two rivers—ocean-wide and unfathomably deep—a thin, burbling stream of diamond-clear water ran like a tiny moat separating the buildings from the road on every street.
She dragged me toward a huge, classically beautiful wooden home.
“Aren’t Scandinavians known for a minimalist aesthetic?” I whispered, attempting humor.
“You’ll find more of that in ásgard. They’ve stayed with the times.”
I’d been joking, but my mind wandered to a visual of Thor, god of Thunder, drinking beer out of a frosted glass in a mansion of clean lines with polished concrete floors, a three-story wall of windows, lofted ceilings, and the futuristic shades of black, gray, and white so popular among the wealthy. That was the living situation I’d chosen after my influx of money, after all.
I was about to make a second joke about whether or not Loki was responsible for the chaotic torture in the form of IKEA’s self-assembled furniture, but Fauna wrapped her hand around the doorknob and let herself into the home without knocking.
“Ella! Estrid!” she sang. “I brought you a human sacrifice.”
“You’re not funny,” I said, palms slick with sweat.
I clocked movement as a woman stood from the couch. Her partner rounded the corner, appearing in my blind spot.
“Human, meet my friends. They’ve been together since ages before Jesus was born and changed the global calendar. Ella and Estrid, this is—”
“Merit,” came my hurried introduction. One woman was more beautiful than the sun and stars. The other was more intimidating than a blizzard of sharpened knives. I cleared my throat and attempted again, “Merit Finnegan.”
The one who looked most like a warrior wrinkled her nose at Fauna. “You brought us the girl who wrote shitty fanfic about our people? Why?”
For fuck’s sake. It was hard not to take her comment on my life’s work personally.
“Give her a sniff and tell me you don’t recognize that scent,” Fauna replied.
Every muscle in my body clenched as if a venomous snake neared my jugular as the warrior leaned in and inhaled. She pulled back a moment later, lashes fluttering as if reeling from some piece of information in my scent profile. I took a subtle sniff at my underarm to see if I’d forgotten to put on deodorant.
“You can’t be serious,” the warrior said.
“Serious as a heart attack, Estrid,” Fauna replied.
If the warrior was Estrid, then the shapely woman who’d come from the couch had to be Ella. I cleared my throat. “Is someone going to tell me what’s happening?”
“Soon enough, peanut. It’s polite to introduce yourself to your hosts before summoning them to grand adventures.”
“Grand adventure, eh?” Estrid repeated. Her demeanor went from skeptical to endeared in an instant. She extended her left hand for a handshake. I lifted my right hand instinctually, then faltered when I understood why she’d offered the opposite hand. Jagged scars ran from her jaw, down her neck, and ended in a capped metallic plate where her right bicep might once have been. It was as if a lightning storm had taken her hand and forearm, leaving the imprint of its bolts as evidence. While the woman was both stunning and intimidating, it was her eyes that terrified me the most. I’d never seen a color so blue.
Humiliation over my faux pas heated me. I switched hands quickly, offering her my left. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I killed thirty-seven men and left with only one injury. I’m a legend.”
“And so humble.” Fauna grinned. “My kind of people.”
“I’m Ella,” the other said, cupping my hand with both of her own.
Perhaps my mind had been doing me a kindness by protecting me from seeing just how stunning she was before this moment. I short-circuited. I barely had two brain cells to rub together as the single most beautiful creature in the universe winked at me before walking away.
My hands went into stunned autopilot. I unzipped the coat Fauna had talked me into grabbing for the chilly temperatures of her realm and dropped it uselessly on their furniture. It seemed wildly inappropriate, but so did being here in the first place. I was adrift between a warrior and a visual treasure.
I was pretty sure there was no Miss Manners handbook on how long one was supposed to wait before asking her Nordic pantheon hosts to rush into battle on behalf of an angel and a demon or two. Even if there was, Miss Manners would have presumably disapproved of my doxxing-specific cover for showing up at their house unannounced, as lying was generally frowned upon.
Fauna ushered me into the house. She navigated me onto a settee and helped herself in the kitchen, much like she’d done at Nia and Darius’s. Going new places was hard. Meeting new people was harder. But their enormous bay window with a view of the river and its limitless horizon helped.
“I love what you did with valkyries,” Ella said with a molasses-like purr.
“I hate what she did with valkyries,” came her partner’s answering eye-roll.
Estrid, I learned, was a valkyrie, and not a fan of my work.
Her partner, Ella, found my portrayal of Odin’s shield-maidens hilarious. Only elusive vagaries were made as to who Ella was or what she did. From the low cut of her dress, ample curves of her chest, hips, and thighs, luscious tousle of long, curly hair, and way she draped herself over furniture as if she were honey drizzled onto a sweet, I had a short list of preliminary guesses.
Estrid, on the other hand, looked like she could crush anyone’s face beneath her boot and the victim would probably thank her for the honor of being stepped on. Her gold-blond hair had been shaved to the scalp on both sides. A long stripe of hair remained down the middle, which she’d braided. She reminded me of the angel, though I wasn’t sure who between Estrid and Silas was more muscular. I was fairly certain that they’d be evenly matched if they were to arm wrestle, even if Estrid was down an arm.
While Estrid was outwardly threatening, I knew better than to underestimate Ella. Despite the soothing voice and sparkling smile, I had no doubts she could break my bones with a nonchalant flick of her perfectly manicured fingers.
I sent Fauna a look that said, Can I ask them yet?
Her silencing glare was answer enough. I was to play by her rules in her realm.
Fauna, Ella, and Estrid instantly fell into the high-spirited revelries of old friends. They spoke around me as if I wasn’t there, which I appreciated. Maybe they could smell the shock oozing from my pores and didn’t want to spook me further. Whatever the reason, I was left to stare at the furniture, the art, the numerous glinting weapons, the walls, the very stitches and fabric fit for gods.
If I was to be left alone with my thoughts of Anath, war, kidnapping, torture, hostages, and long-lost love, I might as well give the rest of them some privacy. I abandoned the couch and wandered to the window to get a better look at the view. Something shiny caught my eye before I had the chance. I gaped at the seven-foot display case and its rows upon rows of precious things. Emeralds, black opal, jadeite, and other unspeakably beautiful rocks, crystals, and sparkly trinkets that I could neither name nor place glimmered from their display mounts. Some were embedded in the hilts of swords or encrusting the pommels of daggers. Others were set in dainty crowns, pretty rings, or elaborate necklaces. One sat on a silk cushion. More still were scattered along the shelves like confetti.
They would have been the very first thing a visitor noticed in a normal home, but this one was full of legendary beings and a baffling ocean that everyone kept insisting was a river. Egypt’s Royal Museum Alexandria was said to have more jewels than anywhere on Earth. A single gifted plate at Alexandria had been appraised at fifteen million pounds. But we were not on Earth, and these gems were fucking enormous. I tried to guess the earthly value of the gems, but had little frame of reference. The Cullinan Diamond, just large enough to fill one’s palm, was the largest diamond in the world, and it was worth over three hundred million dollars.
These shelves had to have six Cullinans combined.
“Stick one in your pocket,” Fauna said over my shoulder.
I jolted in surprise, completely unaware anyone had approached.
Fauna pushed a cup of tea into my hands. “I’m kidding—probably.”
“Can we change the topic yet?” I looked into the amber water. I was tired of dancing around the issue.
“Why don’t you drink first?” Fauna cut me off.
I took a sip, if only to keep myself from crying. I wrinkled my nose at the bitter aftertaste. Somehow, I found myself surprised that tea could be over-steeped even when prepared by gods.
“Do you like our baubles? You can thank Venus here for all of the pretty things.” Estrid called.
Ella narrowed her eyes. “You know I hate that comparison.”
Estrid smirked. “Doesn’t feel great to be misrepresented, does it?”
I took another sip of tea before noticing a new expression on Fauna’s face.
“You should take a seat while you drink.”
I abandoned the incredible collection and settled onto their plush couch. I sniffed the mug. Its aroma was herbal, but there was something curious and wild beneath the scent. “What’s in it?”
“Fun stuff. Do drugs, commit crimes. That sort of thing.”
I’d already had several sips, if only to stave off the awkward chatter. I wasn’t sure I needed anything more in my system. I tried to set it down, but she crossed her arms.
I tucked my feet under myself, curling into a ball of insecurity on the couch. “Fauna, I don’t think I’m equipped to handle drugs in a magical realm.”
Her face puckered as if she’d sucked something sour. “So, you’ll drink beer in Hell and party with the humans, but you’re too good for our Nordic tea? Come on, elitist. Down the hatch.”
“But…” My vision blurred as the amber tea took on a different hue.
“Oh,” she said, tucking an arm around my back. “No, this isn’t like her drugs. This is fun among friends. Though I do suppose I should have been a little more sensitive to goddesses handing you cups of things.”
“I suppose it’s too late now,” I sighed, suddenly aware of a tingle at the tips of my capillaries.
The others lifted their cups in a salute. Ignoring ten years of classroom-mandated Reagan drug propaganda about peer pressure, I wrapped my fingers around the mug once more and took a long, slurping sip of the strange, bitter tea. This wasn’t Astarte’s cucumber water in her weird sex dungeon. This was Fauna. She might be a flippant, sexy candy monster, but I loved her, and I believed her when she said she loved me in return.
At first, nothing happened.
Maybe my years of partying in college and late nights with Nia and Kirby had been the sort of Olympic training my body needed to develop a rock star’s tolerance.
I listened to the three as they discussed old friends, adventures, and swapped stories of wars and the past. When the conversation turned to lovers, my tongue loosened.
“I’m in love too, you know,” I said. The words bubbled from me without shame or hesitation.
“Do tell,” Ella purred. “One of the few ways for humans to gain immortality is to be loved by a writer. Their bodies die, yet their stories live on. Who have you made immortal?”
“He’s already immortal,” I said. A tick somewhere behind my left ear prodded me to look at Fauna, checking to see if I’d crossed some barrier, but she remained a pleasant shade of smirking friendliness. Did friendliness have a shade? Yes, it did. It was a golden sparkle. Even the act of smirking possessed a magenta hue.
Doe eyes met mine and I felt like I understood the loophole all at once. A human doused with the helium equivalent of truth serum wasn’t here for betrayals or spies. She was simply babbling. And perhaps that was enough.
“He’s a demon,” I said, freed of my constraints. “Have you ever been to Hell? I’ll take you if I ever get to go back. He’s in some trouble right now, so it might be a while. The whole world’s gone to shit. My career, my name, my…” I stopped myself from saying boyfriend . The abrupt end to my sentence had a sharp, silver tone, like breath on a frozen winter’s day, if that breath turned to diamonds in the air.
“So she smells like—” Estrid began, looking at Fauna.
“But she’s partnered with—” Ella spoke over her partner.
Fauna’s hurried response was low and incomprehensible, mostly because it was more rainbow than words. Demons, hell, angels, something, something, something. She wasn’t Astarte. This wasn’t cucumber water. This…this was fun. This was good.
Their voices left their bodies like colorful musical notes. Fauna was a deep green intermingled with gold. Ella’s voice was a sparkly crimson. Estrid’s was turquoise and magenta. They all intermingled, the misty spaghetti strands of their words playing and tangling in the middle of the living room.
I reached out to touch the colorful notes, and paused to look at my fingers. They were tingling with a music of their own.
“Someone’s finally having fun,” Fauna said, tightening her arm around me.
Her doe eyes were larger than ever before. I saw the planets within them. Each freckle was a constellation. She was the Milky Way. I reached out to touch her face and she laughed, giving my hand a friendly kiss as she snatched it away and held it at her side, as if tethering my hands to the earth so they didn’t float away.
“Your drugs are better than Astarte’s,” I said.
“Astarte?” The pair gaped in unison.
Fauna turned to the others. “Last week, she was drugged by Astarte and kept trying to fuck me.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Apparently the Phoenicians had this whole kingdom thing going in the States! Their sex and war goddess terraformed a city in the mortal realm as a god-catching seal so she could run a fertility clinic. How many Phoenicians were there, Merit? Three?”
“Four,” I said hoarsely, watching as my voice came out in shimmering shades of grays and blues. The navy and silver escaped my lips and then returned to kiss me before they joined the other colors. “Astarte, Anath, Jessabelle, and Dagon. Crimson, sparkly copper, phthalo green, and…what color are mermaid scales?”
Ella pouted, confusion distorting her lovely face. “Are you…?”
Fauna gave my knee a squeeze. “She’s assigning the gods colors, apparently. They’ll be thrilled.”
I played the colors like piano keys under my fingers, pressing into each word as I said, “No, they won’t. Half of them are dead.”
That gained their full attention. Ella and Estrid leaned forward. Ella pushed, “You were there?”
At the same time, Estrid said, “What do you mean, dead ?”
I nodded, enjoying the static-like thrill that ran through my veins each time I bobbed my chin up and down. “He cut off Astarte’s head… I saw Jessabelle die on screen…meteor hammer. I think she was a soul eater. I don’t know…” I lost interest in the middle of each sentence, allowing the words to drift off so I could watch their cerulean physical shapes.
“But Dagon and Anath?” pressed Estrid.
I shrugged. A distant part of me was annoyed that they’d begun insisting I speak as soon as I’d become perfectly contented to remain silent. “They were still fighting Anath when we left.”
“Who’s they ?” she tried to clarify.
Fauna took over for me while my fingers played with the sparkling, misty colors. I tried to catch the words, but they disappeared every time I opened my palm. She tucked her arm around me to help me with an anchoring sensation as my gaze bobbed about the room.
“Are none of you seeing this? Look at the pastels. No, not that one.” I plucked a note from the space between us. “This word is a crushed velvet maroon.”
Fauna squeezed my hand. “Why are we here, Merit? Tell them.”
“Oh.” I pouted at the necessary lie. “You’re supposed to kill a senator I’m mad at, or something.”
“ Exactly ,” Fauna emphasized. “That’s the only reason we’re here. We came to you because a senator named Geoff what’s-his-face doxxed her. On an utterly unrelated note, since we’re already talking about Merit’s Phoenician escapades, this is what I’ve gathered so far: the Canaanite fertility goddess was pulling a Vanir wet dream. She wasn’t really getting recognition anymore, so she started her own kingdom…only, she couldn’t quite do it alone. She needed crops, she needed weather, she needed the same foundations every civilization needs. So, she had Dagon trapped in this lake so that the whole town flourished, right? But because the town itself was a god-catcher, no one could come to save him. If they did come for him, her sister, Anath, was there. The we Merit’s referring to is the Prince of Hell and…do you remember Azrames?”
Ella’s face lit. “How could I forget! What a night.”
Fauna wrinkled her nose in an indecent giggle, and I made the executive decision not to ask. “Az and the Prince—she calls him Caliban—were still fighting Anath and a ton of parasites when an angel helped them out.”
“Why does she call him Caliban?” Estrid asked.
Fauna leaned forward excitedly, eyes flaring for emphasis as she said, “This is the Prince’s human.”
The two looked at me with new eyes.
“So when she said she loved a demon…” Ella’s thick lashes fluttered.
“ Her ?” Estrid asked incredulously.
I wanted to be offended by the implication, but some part of me knew that the negativity wouldn’t be a pretty color, and I didn’t want to spoil the rainbow. “Do you have anything amethyst to eat?” I asked. “It has to be purple. Lavender is acceptable.”
“And an angel?” repeated Estrid.
My stomach rumbled for lilacs and pansies and violets.
Ella rose from the couch and returned with a plum, a pile of grapes, and an uncut eggplant.
“I love you,” I replied, taking the plate. The grapes were delicious. I was surprised to learn that plums tasted chartreuse, and waited for a break in conversation to inform the others.
Fauna paid me no mind. Estrid hung on her every word as she explained, “Yeah. Heaven’s gotten involved. As you can imagine, they see the useful potential of the Prince’s human in their war. It doesn’t help that Merit’s mom is a real treat. Real Heaven-freak, that one. She gives them more of a foothold than they deserve. Anyway, as you can imagine, it would be really convenient for their battle if Heaven claimed the Prince’s human. So that’s where I’ve been. Babysitting.”
Ella chewed the tip of her thumb as she looked at Fauna. “How did you get the job?”
“Smell her,” Estrid said. “I caught the scent when she walked in.”
The most beautiful woman in the world put a hand to the back of my head, which made me curiously aware that I still possessed a body. She leaned in, just as Jessabelle had done. I recalled thinking Astarte’s assistant had been a vampire going in for the kill. This time, I wondered if the impossibly gorgeous goddess-like creature at my side might kiss me. If she did, I wondered if it would sparkle. Maybe a kiss would create a color of its own. Maybe our lips would lock, tasting like the diamonds on her wall as our new gems joined the foggy dance that created a rainbow bridge.
“Are you Hnoss?” I asked her.
Ella’s full lips parted in surprise. Her shimmering doll eyes widened. “How did a human…”
Fauna giggled at my side. “I forget that you’re actually intelligent, peanut. I prefer to think of you as my sweet dummy, but I don’t give you enough credit.”
Ella’s laughter was shinier than any of her jewels. “Well, I’m impressed. Even walking the streets among my practitioners—”
“What do I smell like?” I asked. “Anath sniffed out my Nordic blood. But since you all smell Nordic…”
“Oh, honey.” Ella stroked my hair. “You don’t just smell like a realm to us. One whiff and we know exactly who sourced the blood pumping through your veins.”
My head lolled from one side to the other, too high to bother with the efforts of turning it to watch the speakers.
“Can you go get them?” Fauna asked the valkyrie.
“Them who?” I said, lifting a finger before the shiny, colorful distraction of my question drew my hand to try to catch my words.
The valkyrie grunted. “I’m assuming you want me to get them because of this news you’ve just shared. Leave it to me to think you’d just stopped by for a visit. Of course you fucked with another pantheon and need help cleaning up your mess.”
“I fucked with no one,” Fauna said, lifting her hands to show she was unarmed.
“I fucked with quite a few of them,” I mumbled. “Or tried. I suppose I’ll never get to finish the deed, now that Astarte’s dead and Caliban’s trapped in their realm.”
“Oh, Fauna.” Ella clicked her tongue. “My, you have a gift for burying the lede.”
“We’re in over our head,” Fauna replied, “and I’m a bit tongue-tied until certain events click into place. You know how it is. Words and bonds and blah blah blah.”
“I’ll get them,” Estrid said, “but you’re paying for this.”
“With what!” Fauna laughed. “Your lover owns all of the treasures in the realm.”
It was all babbling nonsense, but at least their gibberish glittered.
Estrid stepped backward into the ether with a glare. Other stuff probably happened. More time likely passed. But one moment, a battle-worn valkyrie stood in her living room, and the next, she vanished, leaving a steely cloud in her wake. She didn’t walk out the door; she truly disappeared . Perhaps I was too lost in the swirl of sparkles to understand what happened, nor did I feel particularly inclined to try.
“Are you excited?” Ella asked.
“For the second course?” I asked, looking at my picked-over fruit. The eggplant, as it turned out, was not delicious when raw. “Who is them ?”
To Fauna, she repeated, “Is she excited?”
Fauna bit her lip. “She doesn’t know.”
Ella laughed. The sound was like the tinkling of silver bells. “I’d say that’s a treat, but the human’s won me over. Don’t you think she should be told before she’s ambushed? And for fuck’s sake, why did you get the girl high?”
“She loves getting high! This is her second time getting high in literally just one week.”
“And neither of those times were consensual,” I interjected. I supposed I had told Astarte to do anything necessary to get the job done, then signed my name and given her a blood offering. I’d also blindly follow Fauna wherever she led me and drink whatever she gave me, and perhaps in the games of gods, those actions were consent enough.
I’d intended to continue with a speech about how I missed my sobriety when I was distracted by the lovely shade of peach my finger was. Skin was so pretty. Had I never noticed the human body before? The pinks and browns and golds were marvelous. Life was amazing.
Fauna wrinkled her nose in disappointment. “Well, Merit?” She tested my pen name carefully. “I did you a favor.”
Drugging me so I had an excuse to talk about my true motives for seeking an audience with the Nordes didn’t feel like a favor. I attempted to shake my head but felt as if it were filled with helium. It was about to disconnect from my shoulders and float off to join the shiny words that bobbed about the room.
I wanted to tell her that immortal beings needed to stop fucking with my drinks. Instead, what came out was “Fauna? Your words are green and gold. Did you know that?”
She plucked the tea from my hands and grimaced as she set it on the low table. “I may have misjudged your tolerance. Whoops. Let’s try to get a glass of water in you before they get here. Ella? Help me out?”
Ella chuckled. “Water is not gonna cut it for this little gooseberry. But sure. I’ll get a pitcher.”
“Is he going to be mad at me?” Fauna asked.
She was looking at Ella for an answer, but as I didn’t know of any men who might be irritated with her for drugging me, I answered on Caliban’s behalf. “I’m sure the Prince will be thrilled that every time I’m around any god but him, I wind up stoned against my will.”
First to me, Ella said, “Drink this. And she isn’t talking about your Prince.” Then to Fauna, “And yes, I guarantee he’ll be angry. No one’s ever happy with you, Fauna. But then again, you wouldn’t be doing your job if you were keeping the peace.”
“I was born to stick it to the man.” She winked.
I gulped down one glass, then another, water dribbling down my chin as I gasped against the cup like a child drinking from a sippy cup.
Fauna’s face was a swirl of giggling regret as she said, “I’m big enough to admit that I fucked up on this one. But my heart is in the right place.”
“With what?” I asked. I thought the tea had only relaxed me and opened my eyes to the colors of the universe, but it seemed to be jumbling everyone’s words, as well. None of their cryptic exchanges made sense.
“Okay, when they get here, there’s something you need to keep in mind. They haven’t been to the mortal realm in decades, so you’ll probably want to avoid cursing. I’m sure she’s precisely as old-fashioned as she was when she left your plane of existence, and hasn’t had the luxury of rotting her brain with your media like I have.”
“When who gets where?”
The question was barely out of my mouth before Estrid reappeared with two figures. I felt my face collapse in on itself like a dying star as I frowned, eyebrows gathering, forehead creasing, lower lip raising in a pout. I narrowed my eyes to look at the curiosities in the room. Estrid offered an apologetic smile before stepping to the side so I could look at the figures more fully, but nothing about them made sense. I stared at the man and woman for a long time, searching for reason, but none came. They hadn’t spoken, so I had no sense of their colors.
The man—at least, I was pretty sure the beautiful, androgynous, elfin figure was a man—looked like he’d stepped out of a snowy forest in the middle of a hunt. His hair was dark, but short on the sides, much like Estrid’s. The hair upon their respective heads was rapidly thawing as though it had been frozen only moments prior. The powdery white disappeared from the fur trim covering the man’s shoulders, from the leather on his fingerless gloves, and from his bow and the arrows that dangled from the quiver strapped around his hip.
The young woman with icy blond hair and lashes beside him had a pink nose, cheeks, and ears from the cold, but her skin and hair were too white to show the change in temperature the way his did. I spotted frosted edges on the red fox fur wrapped around her upper body. She was similarly dressed for winter hunting.
There was something about her that looked so familiar, from the bridge of her nose to the curve of her hips. I was nearly certain we’d met before. I wondered if her voice would be as pink as her nose.
The man wrapped his arm around the woman’s waist. Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise as she shook her head. After a while, her hand moved to his chest. I neither understood nor wholly cared why they were staring at me. I did my best to remember that they couldn’t see the colors until they drank the tea, and wondered if they’d be offered a warm cup soon.
“Fauna?” I whispered loudly as I continued to stare back at the strangers.
“Yes, pumpkin?” She returned the stage whisper.
I blinked slowly, waiting for the phantom figures to evaporate. The woman’s familiarity suddenly clicked with the silvery clang of ringing bells. I recognized her from the face that stared back at me every time I looked in the mirror. “Either I’m really high, or I’m looking at my dead great-grandma.”
She squeezed my knee. “You are really high. And two things can be true at once. Happy family reunion.”