35. Missing Piece of Perfection
Missing Piece of Perfection
Halla
Halla lay on the warm ground, the smell of raspberries and summer sun wafting through the air.
She dug her fingers into the soft soil, watching the clouds that floated across the sky.
She could nearly make out their shapes. That one was Ieunn, holding an apple.
That other cloud was Loki, bound under a poisonous serpent for his treacherous actions.
There was Yggdrasil , its branches winding into the other clouds around it.
Yet for all the clouds, it was a sunny, beautiful day. Nearly dreamlike in its perfection.
“Halla, what are you doing?”
Halla tilted her head backward. Onkel Tucker stood behind her, his hands in his overalls and a smile peeking out from behind his gray beard.
A thin blue thread wrapped around his wrist. The thread fell to the ground and raced across the dirt to wrap around Halla’s arm, but it never tightened or loosened with movement.
“Onkel!” Halla squealed, scrambling to her feet.
“Daydreaming again?” There was no accusation in his tone, only a hint of humor.
“And practicing,” Halla argued back, holding out her hands, ignoring the multitude of rainbow colored threads that wrapped around her wrists. “Onkel, watch this!”
Halla bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to focus.
All around her, the tall bushes of the raspberries shook under the force of Halla’s galdr .
Under such force, the raspberries fell from their leaves, but they didn’t land on the ground.
Rather, they swirled around Halla’s head until they piled themselves neatly in the buckets at Halla’s feet.
Halla released her galdr with a sigh of triumph. “See?”
Onkel patted her shoulder with a laugh, his thread shaking from the movement. “Well, that’s certainly one way to finish your chores. It’s a good thing too. Your parents are looking for you.”
“Oh!” Halla nearly smacked herself in her forehead. “I forgot!”
Onkel Tucker smiled gently. “That’s why I came searching.”
Halla smiled back, but there was something about Onkel Tucker’s face that made Halla’s expression stiffen.
An underlying current of grief and fear grew in Halla’s stomach, warning her of some unknown danger.
Then the sun warmed her skin and chased away the cold that gnawed in her intestines.
She shook her head. There was no reason for such emotions. “Lead the way, Onkel!”
He led her through the endless rows of raspberries that seemed much longer than she had remembered.
As they rounded the corner, the farmhouse came into view.
Its squeaky front door swayed mildly in greeting.
Two threads of blue ran from Halla’s wrist, across the yard, and wrapped around Pappa and Mamma’s hands as they waited on the front porch.
“I’ll take these to the barn and come back.” Onkel Tucker shifted the buckets in his hands and winked in Halla’s direction. “Wouldn’t want to miss your big day!”
Big day? Halla wondered, watching Tucker walk away, the thread between them lengthening with each stride. Again that tinge of sadness threatened Halla’s good mood, but she pushed it aside.
“Mamma, Pappa!” Halla ran up the steps, bounding toward her parents.
Joy spread across their faces. Pappa reached down just as Halla leapt, catching her midair and twirling her around in a wide circle as Halla laughed. “Well hello, little one!” Pappa set her down, then braced his back with his hands. “Although, maybe you’re not so little anymore?”
Mamma swatted at him playfully. “Well what do you expect from such a young lady? She’s hardly a child anymore. Happy birthday, Halla.”
Drawn into her mother’s arms, Halla returned her embrace.
Her mother smelled like flour and spices.
No doubt she’d been working on Halla’s birthday cake all morning.
Mamma brushed back Halla’s hair, tilting her daughter’s face up.
Though there was nothing but joy in her Mamma’s face, Halla froze.
Apprehension and dread brought tears to the back of her eyes. What was wrong with her?
“Are you okay, bebe ?” Mamma asked, her hands smoothing Halla’s hair.
Halla leaned in, squeezing her mother so tight that Mamma huffed in surprise. “I love you.”
“Well, I love you too, bebe .” Mamma laughed. “Someone’s waiting for you.”
Lara, Halla thought, already looking around for the sight of her sister’s white braid. Perhaps she was out in the fields somewhere. But Mamma and Pappa were heading toward the front door, holding it open for Halla. Maybe Larissa was in there, already sampling Halla’s birthday cake.
Halla raced in, but just as her feet passed the threshold, she stopped.
The inside of their home had vanished. Instead of finding the old, broken-in couch, the chipped kitchen table, and the wooly carpet, Halla found herself in the most dazzling building she’d ever seen.
She stood on a stage. The marbled floor beneath her was polished and cool to the touch.
“There you are.”
Halla spun, finding not Larissa, but Kai.
A deep-red, nearly black thread ran between them.
But Halla had never before seen Kai like this.
He was dressed in such fine clothes that Halla would have imagined in a ballroom.
His dark-black hair was for once combed out of his beautiful angular eyes, which looked at her with laughter in them. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You look good.”
“Surprised?”
“No, I mean,” Halla babbled. “You always look good, but you look nice. Like you actually look like you tried—” Kai’s raised eyebrow changed the direction of Halla’s next words. “Where are we?”
“At the coronation, of course. Don’t you remember?”
Oh, right, Larissa’s coronation.
The great hall filled with people. Though Halla could not see their faces, she wouldn’t have wanted to anyway.
She was mesmerized instead by the clothes they wore and the jewelry that dripped down their throats and arms. It occurred to her then how out of place she looked in her farm clothes.
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she started down from the stage, but Kai’s hand caught her.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’m not exactly dressed for this.” Halla gestured down. “I don’t want to embarrass Larissa.”
“What are you talking about?”
The confusion in Kai’s voice was enough to stop Halla’s frantic escape from the stage.
She looked down to see that her clothes had changed.
A golden gown draped over her shoulders and the train of it ran the length of the stage and even down the marble stairs.
In the front row of the crowd, Pappa, Mamma, and Onkel stared at her with pride and admiration.
Halla lifted a hand to touch the long ringlets of blonde hair that fell over her shoulders.
Tears returned as she ran her fingers through the soft texture.
She’d always loved her long hair. The threads around her wrist trembled as she lowered her hands.
The crowd quieted. All eyes were turned toward the stage, and yet, something was wrong. The crowd was looking at her.
She leaned against the boy next to her, whispering, “Kai, where’s Lara?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Who?”
“Stop playing, Kai,” Halla snapped, feeling rather exposed on stage. “Princess Lovisa, you know, the one who is supposed to be up here getting coronated or whatever you want to call it.”
Kai’s eyebrows knitted together. Then he chuckled as if trying to play off her words as a joke. “Halla, you’re the Princess. This is your coronation.”
Someone walked up the steps, his face hidden in mist and a crown in his hands as he approached Halla. She backed away. “No, wait, where’s Lara?”
Kai laid a hand against Halla’s forehead. “Are you sick, Halla? It’s okay to be nervous.”
“Kai! Where is Lara?”
Kai stared in confusion. “Halla, who is Lara?”
“Is something wrong, little one?” Pappa’s large hand tugged on Halla’s shoulder.
Halla clutched at his black suit. “Pappa, where’s Lara?”
Pappa exchanged a side glance with Mamma. Mamma crouched low, readjusting one of Halla’s curls. “Who, bebe ?”
Halla stepped back from their comforting grasp. “My sister. Your daughter!”
The threads between them tightened and frayed.
Again her parents exchanged a glance. Pappa looked nervously at the crowd behind him. “Halla, you don’t have a sister.”
Halla backed away from them, raising her hands that glowed with galdr .
But no, she shouldn’t have galdr at all.
Larissa had galdr , Larissa was supposed to be Queen.
The back of the hall darkened, and shadows covered the crowd until there was only the stage left with Kai standing behind Halla, and Mamma and Pappa still discussing Halla without noticing their daughter’s discomfort.
Pain and sorrow struck Halla’s body, so sharp and overwhelming she fell to her knees.
Tears streamed down her face. The threads between them snapped.
“You’re not here,” she whispered in horror, but her parents couldn’t hear her. Even then, their forms began to quiver and fade. “Please don’t leave me again.”
But she couldn’t save them this time any more than she had before. Helpless, she watched as they vanished entirely. A soft hand on her shoulder was the only reminder that Halla wasn’t alone. She wiped her eyes to see Kai watching her.
“You know this isn’t real, don’t you?”
Halla nodded, forcing herself back to her feet. “I do, but I don’t understand.”
“It must be the Norn’s test.”
“Test?” But Halla remembered. The Norn would give them a part of the prophecy in exchange for passing the test, but how did she pass? Had she already failed? “Are they testing us together?”
Kai shook his head, and a small smile flickered on his face as he brushed back his hair. Something metallic glinted from his fingers as their thread held firm. “You know the answer to that.”
Halla nodded. “You’re not really here either, are you?”
“You have to figure this one out on your own.” Kai stepped back, kicking forward an item that lay on the ground. The golden crown rattled as it came to a stop at Halla’s feet.
She shied away from it. “I don’t want it.”
Kai’s smile grew even as his form dissolved. “And I think that will make all the difference.”
“You have an interesting mind, Halla,” said the gravelly voice behind her.
Turning, Halla found herself back in the clearing. She stood before Yggdrasil , her feet balanced on its thick roots. Urer sat on the edge of the well before her, her hands still enmeshed in the strings on her lap.
“You have all the ambition and desire, but refused the crown.” Urer paused her hands, her sharp, wrinkled eyes capturing Halla’s. “Why?”
A tremor ran through her as she looked into the eyes of fate itself. The goddess was old, fragile-looking even, and yet Halla felt fear in her presence. “It wasn’t mine.”
Urer harrumphed. “Indeed. I supposed you’ve earned your reward.
” The old crone cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice was joined by the rest of the Norn.
“ Keeper of stories, peering through facades. Past, present, future, speaker of the gods. The Norn only record, the Norn only see. Recorders, Gifters, and Augurs they shall be. ”
Halla repeated it to herself under her breath three times before she was certain she would remember it. Confident, she asked, “What does it mean?”
Urer reached into her cloak and withdrew scissors that fit neatly in one of her hands. She lifted the string in her lap and cut through the threads without hesitation. “It can mean many things.”
Halla bit the inside of her cheek, knowing the old Norn would not answer her questions. A sudden itch at the back of her neck caused her fingers to search for the scar and rub it absentmindedly.
Urer watched her movements with vague curiosity. “Do you know what your rune means?”
Halla started, dropping her hand quickly.
Her thoughts turned back to the night she usually tried so desperately to forget.
Fenris’ hateful words in her ears, the heat of the fire, the horrified whispers of the other slaves and the scorching heat on her neck that sent her plummeting into darkness.
But the Norn had asked; Halla had to answer.
“I was told it was the Thurisaz rune given by the giants. That it was meant to be a reminder of suffering.”
Urer blew air between her wrinkled lips.
“Perhaps that is one interpretation, the sharp thorn that lingers, but the runes are not so easily caged to one meaning. The giants saw the rune as a representation of their chaotic nature, but it was also the symbol of Thor, who used its power as means of protection for others.”
Halla’s mouth gaped open. “I didn’t know that.”
“The language of the runes has been lost over time; even we who wield them struggle to understand.”
“Didn’t you create them?”
Halla shrank back from Urer’s fierce gaze. “And here I thought you were intelligent. The Norn did not create this world nor anything in it.”
Though she trembled, Halla had to ask, “Then who did?”
Urer turned away, her fingers weaving the strings on her lap. “A greater Weaver than I. You should not linger here, or you might be unable to leave.”
Halla looked around. “Where do I go?”
Urer waved a hand. “Stop resisting.”
Only then did Halla notice how the roots under her feet snaked up her legs and torso until they crept down her arms. Alarm coursed through her, but she did as Urer commanded and closed her eyes, focusing only on keeping her heart still even as the roots consumed her, dragging her into the earth.