THE GRUFFNESS OF her voice caused me to jump.
“Warlords have the temperament of giant toddlers,” Vör said.
“Mother,” I gasped. “You scared me.”
“It’s not me you should fear, child,” she said, stepping out of the darkness behind the waterfall. “For a goddess of wisdom, you sure are gullible. I’d like to blame the booze, but I think it’s just you.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” I said, walking on shaky legs to the outdoor sofa. The sun was warm and comforting, but the light in the courtyard seemed dim for midday. “I’d offer you something to eat or drink, but I can’t remember what I have on hand at the moment.”
“That wasn’t a ... never mind.” Vör said, eyeing me. “Don’t worry about me, Sága. Worry about yourself. In fact, I advise you to abstain from drinking and partying long enough to swim your ass far away from Odin and his developing misfortunes. Loyalty is overrated when the ship is sinking.”
“If the Council would just...” I picked up my goblet and set it down again without a taste. “He just needs more time.”
“Hogwash!”
The clipped tone of Vör’s voice jolted me from my daze. My hand hit the goblet, spilling the mead. I watched the red liquid run from the petrified wood table and into the sand. A tingle passed through me. “Blood will be spilled,” I said under my breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing!” I popped up from the couch to fetch a towel from the bar and hurried back to blot what was left of the spill from the tabletop. “What were we talking about?”
“I was talking about Odin,” Vör said, frowning. “Time will make no difference to him. A warlord’s lust for power is his greatest strength, but it’s also his greatest weakness. He’d rather blow up all nine worlds than give up his prominent position within them.”
“I think the Council is to blame for blowing things up. They didn’t handle him right when they delivered the decree. He’s used to giving orders, not taking them.”
Vör grunted. “When the most powerful feminine entities of the nine worlds issue an order, they don’t say please, Sága. Not even to a war god.”
“Well, maybe they should have,” I said, refilling my goblet. “He will turn on them and there will be war.”
I stared down at the wet sand. Blood will be spilled in war.
Vör approached and took my hands. Her touch caused my heart to quicken. I detected an unusual storminess in her emotions. Even she, the unflappable Mother of Knowledge, was uncertain of the future.
“Sága, listen to me. I know you’ve considered Odin a good friend for a long while, but the worlds are about to change. You will be called to choose a side, and I hope you choose wisely.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t want to choose a side. I want things to go back to normal.”
“I know, but that doesn’t change the facts. At some point, everyone will have to choose.” Vör let go of my hands and straightened. “But enough of that. I didn’t come here to talk about Odin. I came to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve been summoned to Helheim, and with the Council’s orders going into effect, I don’t know when I’ll be back in Asgard.”
I tilted my head. “Why does Hel want to see you?”
“I didn’t ask, Sága. When a mother summons her child without explanation, it is wise to just go see what she wants. Keep that in mind, won’t you?”
“I’ll try,” I said, rolling my eyes. In my experience, it was better not to rush when summoned, but to relax and have a few drinks first. It gave the mother time to get over whatever disappointment she was angry enough to summon about. A moment of silence passed between us. I finished my mead in three gulps and had an epiphany. “Will you deliver a letter to Hel from me?”
“It depends on the message,” Vör said, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t try to conceal the truth. Nothing angers me more than when my own children try to keep secrets knowing full well it is my curse to hear what is hidden.”
“I would request the Council grant Odin time away from Asgard. Maybe a ski trip to Skadi’s place in the mountains. Or even a cabin in the Ironwood Forest. Somewhere that will allow him to relax and be persuaded to help instead of hinder the cause.”
“No,” Vör said.
I poured more mead, waiting for Vör to realize that my suggestion was a brilliant compromise after all.
“That’s it? Just no?”
She sighed. “I admit I almost said Hel no! but I’ve found that the word Hel is sometimes interpreted with a slight degree of levity by you younger goddesses, somehow implying that you have permission to ask again in the misguided hope that the answer might change.”
I scowled and kept quiet about why younger goddesses dread visits from older goddesses. Older goddesses treat the young like idiots. And, it’s done merely for sport. “Well, what do I do to help Odin, then?”
She smiled and pulled me to her. For an old goddess, Vör was astonishingly strong. I wondered if she had finally decided to smother me, her most wayward offspring.
“Oh, Sága, try to see past all this temporary unpleasantness to the creation of better worlds ahead. It’s Odin who needs to do something. It is not a good time to propose alternative methods to the Council. And it is certainly not a good time to suggest that Odin be bribed with a vacation. Is that clear?”
I nodded.
“Good,” she said, pulling away.
I drug in a long breath and coughed.
Vör stood up from the couch and stared down at me. “No matter what, you cannot interfere with the judgment of the Council. With tensions this high, it would be very unwise. Promise me you will stay out of it.”
I nodded again. If I had spoken, Vör would know I was lying.
setting the mood…
a note from the author…
Thanks for reading Episode II of Sága's Fable Mind: Series Prequel! Sága is several thousand years old, and yet… her mother knows best, right?
Sága’s adventures are just beginning. Be sure to read Episode III: Hel-Raiser. Skol!