Chapter 20
Gullveig
Odin’s gone away to war again.
The vanir won’t quit coming, and no matter how many we kill, there are always more later. They massacre humans. They control others. They take and take and take, and nothing ever changes, even with the heart in our possession.
In fact, the heart hasn’t brought us much luck that I can see. I carefully open the door, relieved to see that Freya’s in her earth child form.
Or I’m relieved until I see that she’s laid another egg.
That always sets her off.
“Wow, that one’s stunning,” I say. “May I look at it?”
“It’s why I’m not fighting my own people right now.” She’s not looking at me. She’s staring at the bright red egg, a perfect flame blessed egg if I’ve ever seen one, and she’s rocking a little bit. It’s been fourteen cycles, and they have more than three dozen eggs now.
None of which have hatched.
She drops the egg into her lap and her head snaps toward me. “Is it my fault? Is it the heart that’s making all my eggs unviable? Or is it simply that ice vanir and flame aesir are not meant to create children?”
It’s not the first time she’s asked, but I still don’t have an answer.
“Oh, Gullveig, why don’t you hate me?” She drops her face in her hands.
“Laying eggs all alone isn’t a good idea.” I approach her slowly, and I ease the delicate egg from her lap and carefully set it in the small basket near the wall. “You should have called for me.”
When her face turns back toward me, tears are streaming down her cheeks. “Our people shouldn’t even exist.”
“You mean the vanir?”
She shakes her head. “All of us. Think about it.” She stands and starts pacing.
“I wanted to believe she loved him. I wanted to believe that Veralden Radien was just confused. He cared for us, he loved the sky children, and he loved Jore, but he was lost. Confused.” She sighs.
“But that was just wishful thinking. Veralden Radien abandoned us, and he left us to be cared for by Jore, but we just keep harming her children, killing them.” She bites her lip and presses one finger against my mouth. “My darling Gullveig, I’m so sorry.”
My mother died last week.
She and Euphrasia were fighting a group of vanir who came for brights, and then. . .
I shrug. “It’s not your fault. You left the vanir and fight against them.”
“But the war, war, war, that is our fault.” Tears keep rolling down her cheeks.
“I should have known our plans to repair things, our plans to defeat the vanir and keep the earth children safe. . .” She throws her hands up in the air.
“It’s as doomed as Jore was the second she trusted our father.
” She immediately heads for the corner, and I know why.
I move to try and block her. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll get you something to eat.”
She shakes her head, pushing past me as though she’s possessed. She just can’t help herself. She reaches slowly for the ruined egg. Thunar burned it beyond any possible viability. It’s more like a charred rock than an egg.
But like always, her tears change now that she’s reached it.
Freya’s not just crying for this one ruined egg, or even for the prophecy she made that the charred, destroyed egg would spell the doom of her people.
She’s crying for the loss of hope.
When she met Odin, when they fell in love, their dreams were the same. They would defeat the vanir and unite them with the aesir. They would change the future for the earth children, doing what their misguided father should have done all along.
It was a beautiful plan.
But now, as the war just drags on and on, the heart making no noticeable difference in either the vanir’s power or the aesir’s ability to defeat them, Freya’s faith has fled.
“Did I cause this?” She’s staring intently at the charred egg, the fingers of her left hand stroking it gingerly.
“Is this the punishment I deserve for the earth children and aesir I harmed? Is this happening because of my role in Frigg’s death?
I’m being punished for my hubris in loving her husband.
” Her stunning face turns toward me slowly.
“Do I deserve nothing but misery, Gullveig?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. It’s not your fault that Veralden Radien wasn’t a great father or a good lover.
You’ve done the right thing at every turn, but life’s just hard sometimes.
” I think about my brother’s children and widow, and I think about my grieving father.
“Sometimes bad things just happen, but they help us appreciate what we have. That, the love we have, that’s what we should value. ”
“It’s not my fault,” she whispers. “It’s his fault.” She turns toward me, her beautiful eyes wide. “You’re right. It’s Veralden Radien’s fault.” She nods. “He should pay.”
I blink. “But I’m not sure—”
She whips around, gingerly placing the egg back in its basket, and then she grabs my shoulders, staring into my eyes.
“Gullveig, you’re a genius. With the heart, we should have enough magic to call him back and demand that he take responsibility for this.
He can come back here and get us and take us with him.
” She releases me, dancing around the room like a lunatic.
“Yes, he should take us with him, and then you’ll all be free.
It’s time for us to leave this place, to free you.
We can go with him—our father. We can make him take responsibility for us. ”
“But this is your home too,” I say. “It’s just that the vanir are forcing bonds and—”
She presses her hand over my mouth. “No, it’s more. I’ve caused you pain. Odin has, too. You all suffer because of us. We’ll call our father, and then—”
“What if that doesn’t work?” I ask. “What if he doesn’t come?” Because I can’t imagine he will. I’m not even sure the heart can call him. What if the whole rock came from Jore and has nothing to do with him? I’m not even sure what the heart is. We pried it out of gold, after all, deep in the earth.
Freya, after all her frantic activity, freezes, and she stares right at me. “If we can’t call him, if he won’t take us, we should all die. It’s the least we can do.”
Oh, shoot.
For a year or more, she’s been dancing around insanity, but clearly having that last perfect egg that won’t ever hatch pushed her right over the edge into the abyss.
I wish I had some idea of how to bring her back again.