Odin

Epilogue

Odin walked into the living room of the little country cottage he and Simone now shared. It looked like something straight from the countrysides of England. The only thing that was drastically different was the windows. Each side of the home had huge windows that allowed in the natural light at different times of the day. And in almost every room an easel was set up with a drop cloth beneath it where Simone reveled in her uncanny talent of bringing the pictures in her mind to life on canvas. She could paint anything in front of her just as easily and often did. It turned out she was a very gifted artist.

“What are you painting today?” Odin asked.

Simone looked up from a canvas and Odin laughed.

“You have paint on the tip of your nose,” he said, approaching as he held out his finger to wipe away the paint.

“Is it gone?” she asked.

“It is.”

Odin stood back and looked at the canvas. “It looks very real.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do. But why paint something so dark?”

Simone gazed at the painting she was almost finished with. She’d nailed the flow texture of the shadows Odin had brought her through when he’d first snatched her away from her family, but she wasn’t sure she’d gotten her point across as the wraith-like little girl morphed into a soul sucking creature from hell. “You’re sure it’s accurate?”

“Yes. And very dark.”

Simone shrugged. “Some people can’t see their way out the dark. The painting of pretty things and people are mute to them. Someone who’s suffering sees this and maybe they’ll realize they aren’t alone.”

Odin stood quietly as she dabbed her brush in a little bit of white, then yellow paint and began to paint on the far upper corner of the canvas. He watched spellbound as she expertly created the light that was visible just before he stepped out of the shadows every time he stepped out of the shadows. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s to let people know to reach toward the light. That no matter how dark, how ominous the shadows, all it takes is to focus on a tiny bit of light and if you cling to it, follow it, it will grow and bring you back to where you should be.”

“Says she who is mated to the dark,” Odin said with a grin.

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. And I don’t think you’re dark. You’re an Ice Demon.”

He nodded. “Dark.”

Simone shook her head and scowled at him. “What is ice created from?”

“I don’t know… water?”

“Exactly. And what is required for any life?”

He canted his head, already seeing where this was going.

“Water,” she finished. “So, as I see it, you’re not dark. You’re representative of life. You can manipulate the water around you, and you’re kind at heart, though a little grumpy. Your people… they’re the ones who got it wrong. They think they’re dark because of the Ice Demon issue. You’re the one who got it right.”

“Life Demon?” he asked, trying not to chuckle at her since she was so committed to what she was saying.

Simone finally pulled her attention fully from her painting, and grinned at him. “Seems like it might apply. Maybe.”

“If you want to believe so, then it is so. But in the meantime, I’ve been thinking of your people.”

“My people?”

“Yes, your colony of Gargoyles.”

“They are not my colony of Gargoyles. They’re my family who happen to be Gargoyles.”

“Regardless, you’ve not seen them since you arrived here. Would you like to?” Odin offered.

Simone’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please! Very much!”

He took her in his arms and held her close. “Why didn’t you say so before now?”

“They’re all the way in Paris. And we’re trying to settle in here and I didn’t want you to think I was unhappy.”

“I know you’re happy. And I want you to stay that way. We’re settled and don’t you know I can step into the shadows and have us in Paris in minutes?”

“I do, but I didn’t want to take advantage of your ability if you didn’t like to use it.”

“I have a reason to use it now.”

She smiled waiting on his explanation.

“To take my mate to spend time with her family,” he said, kissing her.

“Can we go now?” she asked excitedly. “I want them to see how happy I am. How right they were to ask Enthrall to bring me back here.”

“We can. Hold tight…”

“Wait!” she exclaimed. “I want to take them some of these paintings. More for them to sell in the square.”

She gathered up as many as she could hold and handed them to Odin, then gathered a few more and wrapped her arm around his waist as he held her close with his free arm. She rested her head on his chest and as he kissed her head, moved them into the shadow world and through it to Paris and her family.

~~~

Odin stepped out of the shadows and into the courtyard of an ancient, but beautifully rebuilt monastery complete with acres of land around it. There were shadowed trellises, a vegetable garden that looked like it had been tended for years, a freshwater artesian spring, and a fenced in area for goats and chickens with shelters for both.

“It’s beautiful here,” Simone said. “I knew it would be perfect when I first saw it.”

“It was like this when you left it?” Odin asked.

“Yes. Do you know Carnage?” she asked.

“I do. Very well. He likes to pat me on the head, like a pet,” Odin grouched irritatedly.

Simone laughed. “He patted me, too. But I saw him pat Malign on the head, as well. I think it’s just something he does when he likes someone but doesn’t really want to hug them.”

Odin shook his head. “He hugs me, too.”

Simone laughed again. “Maybe he really likes you. Anyway, my point is that his daughter, Lily, came at his request and she helped arrange everything. The building was standing, but it was just not inhabitable. She repaired the monastery, she placed the spring there so they’d always have access to fresh water. She modernized everything that she could to be sure they’d be comfortable and happy here. And she placed a protection around it. Any human approaching will feel uneasy and have an increasing desire to leave.”

“If they see the Gargoyles inside, I’m sure they will leave, quickly. And they’ll be back with pitchforks and torches,” Odin said.

Simone scowled at Odin. “They will not! Lily placed a glamour that if a human happens to see something they shouldn’t, the moment they realize it, it’s wiped from their memory. Besides, how are they going to see over a sixteen-foot wall?”

Odin looked up at the top of the wall that stood right behind them. “Could be done.”

“Are you going to continue to be argumentative?” she asked saucily.

He grinned.

“Because I can be argumentative, too.”

He grinned even wider. “I like you argumentative.”

Simone blushed and playfully pushed him away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, grabbing her hand when she tried to push him away again and pulling her into his embrace.

She melted into his arms as he held her close, both relishing the feeling of being exactly where you belong in the universe — beside your other half.

“Stop that,” Malign called out.

Simone looked over her shoulder and pulled away from Odin to face Malign. “There you are. I was wondering where everyone was.”

“Malice and Bitter are inside. Loathe and Venom are still working the square.”

“Are the paintings still selling?”

He looked at her with a confused expression. “You’ve only been gone two weeks. Nothing has changed that much.”

Odin looked around at the monastery they stood in the middle of, then doubtfully at Malign.

“Don’t you start. This all changed before she left. Which not all of us think was a wonderful thing.”

“Are you not happy for me?” she pressed.

Malign looked at Simone, then at Odin. He opened his mouth to respond but Malice interrupted.

“Simone! You’re home!”

“I came to say ‘hello’ and thank you for asking Enthrall to take me to Whispers.”

Malice came straight toward her, hugging her and kissing her cheek before hesitantly offering his hand to Odin.

Odin looked at his outstretched hand for a moment before clasping it lightly, then shaking it.

“Welcome, Odin. To our home. To our family.”

Odin raised an eyebrow.

“Are you surprised? You’ve mated our Simone. That makes you one of us.”

“I didn’t expect to be welcomed so readily,” Odin said.

“I didn’t think you were that smart,” Malign snapped.

“Malign!” Malice warned.

“I’m going to help in the square!” Malign grumbled, walking in the direction of the huge wooden door.

“Hold on! I brought paintings to sell!” Simone called out, turning to Odin.

Odin moved a few feet away into the shadow of the wall and several seconds later was back with multiple canvases. He walked over and handed them to Malign. “Be careful with these, my female created them.”

Malign practically snarled.

“It was good to see you, Malign. Thank you for taking my paintings to sell. I’ll be visiting more often. Odin has promised to bring me to visit any time I wish.”

Malign stood there, his arms full of Simone’s paintings as he stoically watched them, watching him. Eventually, he sighed. “I am glad to see you happy, Simone.” He adjusted the paintings he carried, opened the wooden door, then left, closing it firmly behind himself.

“It was very thoughtful of you to bring paintings. We’ll use the proceeds to help feed the hungry at our rest home.”

“Rest home?”

“Yes. Enthrall has assisted us procuring a building in the poorest part of the city. We offer meals at no cost to those who need them. Shelter to those who have none.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You’ve always thought more of others than yourself,” Simone said.

Malice’s mouth curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach the depths of his dark eyes. “Not always, but I have tried in recent years.”

“I’m proud to be one of you.”

“We’re proud to have you,” Malice said. “Have you seen the inside?”

“I have! Lily did a beautiful job.”

“She did. Come see it again!” Malice said, excited to show her the inside of the monastery though she said she’d already seen it, and he knew she had. She’d been there when Lily was working her magic. “Do you know that the two of you have a room? It’s for anytime you wish to visit and perhaps stay overnight.”

“You kept my room?”

“Of course, we did. You’re our family, Simone. That will never stop,” Malice said as he pushed open the door to the interior of the monastery.

“Simone!” Bitter called out, “you’re here! Odin! Welcome!”

“Thank you,” Odin said as Simone hurried over to hug Bitter.

“That smells heavenly!” she said, sniffing the pot he was stirring.

“It is amazing what can be cooked over a real stove rather than a fire in the middle of an underground cavern,” Bitter said.

“It is,” Malice agreed. “I think he’s enjoying this new life more than the rest of us.”

Simone smiled, glad to see her family happy, adapting and improving their lives.

“Sit!” Bitter said. “Have some stew. And I have fresh bread!”

Malice shook his head very quickly but stopped the instant Bitter looked his way.

“My stew is delicious!” Bitter said defensively.

“It is. But your bread eats like sand,” Malice said.

“It does not,” Bitter growled.

“It’s a little grainy,” Malice said.

“That’s because I’m still experimenting with the recipe.”

“We could just barter for it from the baker,” Malice said.

“I like to make it.”

“Very well. Let’s go see the rest of our home before you sit to have some delicious stew and grainy bread,” Malice said, gesturing toward the other side of the kitchen. “We’ve made it more of a home.”

They followed Malice as he showed them the different levels of the monastery, four floors worth. Some rooms for rest, some for cleansing, others for important books and papers. One for storage of the box and its contents that Carnage had gifted them. There were storage rooms for food, and some for herbs used for cooking and for medical purposes as well. Not that they were ever ill, but sometimes people were and they could make tinctures and such. Or at least they could supply the herbs needed to make the tinctures to those who specialized in that kind of thing.

“This is your room, Simone,” Malice said proudly, standing back to allow them to enter. “It’s just as you left it, other than I tidied it and moved all your mother’s things into it.”

Simone smiled as she moved around the room touching a delicate vase here, a gilded mirror there. Then her attention was snared by a portrait of a pretty young woman and a man much her senior leaning in an easel near the window.

“That’s your mother and your father. He commissioned it on the day they were married.”

Simone walked over to the painting and admired it silently for a few moments. “I don’t think she realized then how much he was going to love her, or her him.” She admired it for a few more moments before she turned to look at Malice. “Where did you get these?”

“I asked Lily to help me find what she could. I knew there might not be much left, but Lily found these things laying about what remained of the home. It’s been deserted, and has fallen to ruin, quite literally, but parts of it still stand.”

“Thank you for this,” Simone said.

“Simone?”

She turned to Odin who’d been standing with Malice watching her make her way around her room and the mementos he’d managed to get for her.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I’ve got something for you, too. I’ll be back.” He said, leaving the room and stepping into the first shadow he saw. He returned to the attic he’d hidden Marie’s letters and journals in. He lifted the box and laid a hand on top of it. He smiled down at the box, thinking of Marie and all that had to happen to bring him to this point in his life — in Simone’s life. “Thank you, Marie,” he said aloud. “I can’t help but think you had something to do with us finding each other. I won’t waste it.”

He stepped back into the shadows and traversed back to the monastery where Simone, Malice and Bitter were just sitting down to their meal. There was a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread in an empty place beside Simone.

“There you are! I’ve served your bowl as well,” Bitter said, gesturing with his hand full of bread at the place beside Simone.

“Thank you, Bitter.”

“You’re very welcome. What do you have there?”

“These are Marie’s letters, her journals, and the few things she kept from all her years of life. I thought you might want them. I hid them away when I first came to Paris looking for you, and didn’t think to go back for them until now,” he explained, placing the box on the floor at Simone’s feet and lifting the lid.

“I’m overwhelmed. I went from not having anything at all of my mother, or my grandparents, to having some of the most special parts of them — their own words included,” she said, picking up one of the journals and holding it to her chest. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you like my bread! Tell Malice he’s wrong!” Bitter exclaimed, desperate to lighten the mood.

“If you soak it in the stew some of the grit goes away,” Malice whispered beside her.

“I really like it soaked with the stew!” she said brightly.

Bitter grinned at her. “Thank you.”

Odin spooned up a bite of the stew and nodded as he chewed the meat and vegetables in the hearty dark gravy. “This is really good.”

“A male with a refined palate! He knows good food when he tastes it,” Bitter said triumphantly.

“It is really good,” Odin said, taking another bite. He tore a piece of bread off the hunk lying near his bowl and popped it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad taste, but I think maybe you should grind your wheat longer.”

“I grind it until it’s flour! How much longer should it be ground?”

Odin thought about it. “Do you strain it to free it from all the husks, and bits of dirt that might have stuck to the grains?”

“Do you think that’s it?” Bitter asked.

“I’m no expert, but it seems that if you have gritty bread, something is not processed fully,” Odin said.

“You see? He understands that it’s a process. I’ll examine the process and try again,” Bitter said.

“You’ll get it right,” Odin said, winking at Simone when she grinned at him being nice to her people.

“I will. Now, let me ask you something. This swamp, where Carnage met his female. Are there many females wandering through it?”

Odin was surprised, but didn’t want to offend Bitter. “Uh, no. There are not usually females wandering through it. I believe that was an isolated incident.”

Malice shook his head. “Bitter, she was rescued by Carnage as she hid in the swamps. Females are not just there for the taking.”

Disappointed that the idea of just picking a female from the swamps as his own was not going to be a possibility, he took a large bite of his bread as he scowled at Malice. Pretty soon his face skewed up and he swallowed exaggeratedly. “I have to fix that recipe soon.”

“Mayhap you could ask the tincture lady to help you,” Malice said.

Bitter slid a bit of side-eye Malice’s way.

“What tincture lady?” Simone asked.

“A woman that we’ve employed to make tinctures from our herbs. We give them to those who are ill are in need of medical treatment,” Malice explained. “She’s very knowledgeable, very smart, kind.”

“It’s not me she’s interested in.”

“She’s not interested in anyone. I’m simply saying if you desire a mate, you could start there,” Malice insisted.

Simone turned to Odin, who was already looking at her, as Malice and Bitter continued to bicker back and forth. “I’m glad I no longer have to worry about things like that. I’ve found you,” she said.

“I was just thinking the same. I’ll always stand beside you.”

“And I you,” Simone said. She pushed her empty bowl away and turned toward Odin, who took her in his arms.

“Are you ready to go home, Simone?” Odin asked.

“Yes. I miss home.”

“So do I,” Odin said, standing and leading her away from the table by the hand.

“I’ll have the bread perfected when you return!” Bitter called out.

“Take care of her, Odin!” Malice called.

“Always!” Odin promised.

“We’ll visit with you again soon,” Simone called out, just before Odin stepped into the shadows and transported her back to Whispers, to their home, where everything would always be just right in their world.

~~~

Thank you for reading ‘Odin, Whispers From the Bayou, Book 9’. If you have the time, please take a moment to leave a review.

Whispers was created as a place to host any and all creatures I might happen to dream up, and their stories. It’s done just that, becoming a favored world to write in. And while the stories from Whispers have slowed over the years, I hesitate to close the series. I just love the world so much. So, I won’t close it. I’ll just step away quietly and leave them to live their lives. But I’ll be here, watching and waiting for the echoes of any voices that might happen to whisper in my ear. And if I hear any — when I hear any, I won’t hesitate to put pen to paper, so to speak, and add them to the stories already out there for your enjoyment.

Thank you for loving Whispers as I have.

Happy Reading!