Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) (24 page)

Tyr furrowed his brow, in the universal
facial expression of mental math. “I believe… approximately one
fiftieth of the rate a mortal does. So while you might easily live
for fifty years before looking old, I could live twenty-five
hundred before assuming that same appearance.”

“Awesome.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I
jumped from my seat. “That would make you what, a thousand years’
old right now?”

“Almost.” Tyr stared at me. I stared back.
This was all so
complicated
. My brain worked through a
million thoughts at once, but processed none of them. I started to
pace in front of the couch.

“You’re a god.”

“Still yes.”

“And you can do… god stuff?”

“Yes,” Tyr repeated.

“What kind of stuff? What are your
powers?”

“It’s kind of involved.” Tyr ran a hand
through his hair. “I can fly, which you saw; create protective
shields; my hands are pretty solid weapons—they can project
debilitators and enchantments. I have some extrasensory abilities
that help me scope out dark spirits and bad auras. I can conjure
things and dispense of things, and I have some healing abilities;
all pretty run-of-the-mill defensive stuff. It’s not that big of a
deal.”

“Excuse me, it is an
extremely
big
deal.” I stopped pacing and shoved my finger in Tyr’s face, my left
hand on my hip. “You are an immortal deity traipsing around a
college town, protecting your sister and fighting off homicidal
wolves like some frat-boy/boy-scout mash-up. Which, according to
Jason, is another total myth. If what you are and what you’re doing
isn’t bat-poop crazy, then I don’t know what is.”

Tyr’s mouth twitched. “Did you just call me
bat-poop crazy?”

“You lied to me. You don’t get to laugh at
me.” I tugged at my hair.

Tyr reached up to grab my hand. “I’m still
me.” A corner of his mouth turned up in a rakish grin, and for a
moment I was mesmerized by his brilliant smile; his piercing eyes;
the way his stubble highlighted the strong line of his jaw when he
spoke. “And I never lied to you, except about the lighter thing. I
did move here from Sweden; I was disabling a portal between Midgard
and one of the dark realms. I did grow up with Henrik and Brynn;
the Anderssons took us in, and Brynn lived next door. And I did
lose my parents to the wolf. I just omitted a few facts.”

“Big ol’ facts to omit,” I muttered. “What
are you doing here? Why aren’t you in heaven?” I tried to reach for
my hair again, but Tyr held onto my hand.

“It’s called Asgard. It’s as beautiful as a
lot of mortals imagine their heaven will be—big rolling hills,
grassy meadows, a weeping willow with leaves made of real silver,
castles… but it’s not a particularly peaceful place. Our realm is
under constant attack, and most of our residents train to fulfill
military roles. We have a structured army, much like humans do,
with soldiers and commanders and colonels and an elite team, all of
which report to me. The only military figure that ranks above me is
Odin.”

Oh Lord almighty
. He actually was the
god
of
war
.

“Stop pulling away from me. Come here.” Tyr
raised an eyebrow, and I reluctantly sat down. What I really wanted
to do was run home to the little house on Daffodil screaming like a
banshee, but there was a massive wolf outside…

Shut the front door. There was a massive wolf
outside. And an enormous blond guy in here. Things slowly clicked
into place, the pieces of the puzzle finally forming a whole
picture.

“In the woods,” I whispered. “My first day
here. A wolf
did
attack me. You were there. I didn’t imagine
it. Oh my God, the wolf outside is the wolf that came after me.” I
started to shake again.

“You didn’t imagine it.” Tyr held me as I
trembled.

“But I was hurt—he bit me hard enough to hit
bone. Why wasn’t there any blood?” I touched my forearm.

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m pretty sure nothing you can tell me will
shock me more than ‘
I’m a Norse God, prinsessa
.’”

Tyr snickered. “Nice accent.”

“Whatever. Tell me why I wasn’t hurt.”

“I had Freya heal you.”

There was no way I’d heard that right.
“Excuse me?”

“I had to deal with the wolf, and I knew you
were pretty torn up. I summoned Freya, she dropped in via the
Bifrost—”

“The what?” I asked.

“The Bifrost. It’s the rainbow bridge we use
to travel between the realms. Heimdall guards it, and directs it to
wherever we need it to go.” Tyr ran his hand along my shoulders.
“You need the blanket again? You’re still shivering.”

“I’m fine. Just in shock that my boyfriend
travels by rainbow, that’s all.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Tyr
grabbed a throw off the edge of the couch and tucked it around my
legs. “The motion sickness takes centuries to get over.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” I pulled the
blanket up to my waist. “Next time I’m catching a rainbow bus or
riding my rainbow bike or… Freya seriously healed me?”

“She did. The wolf was in a right state, and
I needed to get him away from the human population, so I summoned
Freya. When she saw you bleeding out, she knew what to do. Brynn
arrived a few moments later, so Freya left you to help me subdue
the animal. Unfortunately, we lost him when he ran through a
portal.”

I blinked. “He went back up the rainbow
tunnel?”

“Bridge,” Tyr corrected. “And no. That was
the plan—we were hoping to ship him back to Asgard’s prison. But
when I called for Heimdall to open the Bifrost, the wolf took off.
He managed to open a portal of his own, and he disappeared.”

“Is that what you were afraid of that day I
found Elsa’s cabin? Were you afraid someone had come out of some
portal close to there?” I tucked my knees to my chest. “You acted
like something was going to jump out from behind a tree any
minute.”

“I’d thought I saw the wolf in the woods that
afternoon, but Henrik did a sweep later that night and didn’t find
any residue.”

“Residue?” I paused. “Residue of what?”

Tyr frowned. “When the wolf disappeared that
day, the first thing I did was make sure you were okay. Freya had
healed you as well as I could have, so I left you in Brynn’s care
and went to inspect the portal the monster escaped from. It
contained heavy traces of dark magic. The wolf doesn’t have
magic—he only has brute strength. Which meant something evil on the
other side of that portal helped him escape. Someone with a lot of
dark power is working with him. It’s not ideal.”

Tyr wrapped one arm protectively around me,
and used the other to stroke the knots in the back of my neck. I
flinched as he rubbed a particularly tender spot. He pressed softly
into the knot, and the pain eased.

Well no wonder he was so good with his hands.
He was divine.

“Are they trying to kill you?” I
whispered.

“I don’t think so. I think they’re trying to
break me.”

“Break you? Why?”

“Because I’m the first and last line of
defense between the monsters of the underworlds and Asgard.
Whoever’s helping the wolf must know that I carry a lot of guilt
about what that monster has done—he would have been executed
centuries ago if I hadn’t intervened. And I think they’re hoping
that guilt eventually drives me mad. If I were to turn against my
realm, or even just abandon my post, there would be a clear path to
Odin, and to the throne. An open seat at the head of the cosmos,”
Tyr explained.

“If you’ve got these bad guys after you, then
why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in Asgard, protecting the… the
throne?” Was I even saying this right?

“I’m here to protect my sister. Asgard should
have been the safest place for her, but the wolf got to her there.
Freya and I guessed he was working with someone on the inside, so
we moved her to the sleepiest town we could find in the most remote
realm in the cosmos.”

“Why Earth? If the wolf can come and go so
easily, wouldn’t she be safer somewhere else? The realm with all
the elves, maybe?” They’d seemed pretty fierce in that
Lord of
the Rings
movie.

“Because for the most part,
Midgard—Earth—flies under the radar. It doesn’t have enough evil
for the jotuns, fire giants, or dark elves to bother coming here.
The light elves rarely leave Alfheim, and the dwarves have no
desire to leave their realm. We thought Midgard would be the best
place to hide her.” Tyr shrugged. “We thought wrong. But even
though the wolf was in the woods that day he attacked you, he still
hasn’t found Elsa’s cabin. And he shouldn’t have found this house,
either. I had no idea anyone could breach the defenses I set around
this place; I’ve cast new enchantments that should hold him
off.”

“The glitter blizzard?” I worried my bottom
lip. If Tyr’s old protections hadn’t held, why did he think this
sparkly new one would?

“It’s a little more serious than that, but
yeah. The glitter blizzard.” Tyr stroked my hair. If the concern in
his eyes was any indication, he was trying to soothe me.

Keep stroking, Hercules.

“So that animal you were fighting, is he the
one who… did he…?” I didn’t know how to ask the question.

“He killed my parents, yes.”

“But you said your parents’ killer was
practically family.” Recognition clouded my eyes at the same time
as empathy rooted in my gut. “Was that animal your pet?”

“In a way. His name’s Fenrir, and he’s a
wolf. My wolf. He’s the son of Loki and a giantess.”

My mouth turned down as I mentally flipped
through my Art History flashcards.
Loki, Loki, ah! Loki.
Loki was the dark spot on Asgard’s otherwise spotless family tree;
the black sheep who took pleasure in causing pain and destruction
for the rest of the gods. And while the books suggested Loki was
largely misunderstood, from what I could see, his actions suggested
he needed a serious schooling in morality.

And possibly a prescription
mood-stabilizer.

“When Fenrir was born, our prophets predicted
his treachery would end Asgard. Odin wanted to kill him, but I
begged him not to. He was only a puppy, and it felt wrong to let
him die for a crime he hadn’t yet committed. Odin put him in my
care, with the stipulation that Fenrir would be locked up the
minute he stepped out of line. I was young then, maybe the
equivalent of a six- or eight-year-old human child, and I was
determined to save Fenrir. I raised him and tried to teach him
right from wrong. Spent as much time with him as my training would
allow.”

“What happened?” My heart tugged.

“He couldn’t beat his nature. He was born of
darkness and bred to hate the gods. I wasn’t strong enough to break
him. He snapped and murdered my parents, then went AWOL. I put out
a kill order on him when I took my title, but around that time the
Norns prophesied the gods would use Fenrir as a bargaining tool at
Ragnarok—apparently his continued existence is a prerequisite to
avoiding total Asgardian annihilation. When he heard that, Odin
overrode my command and issued a capture order on the wolf instead.
Then Fenrir attacked Elsa. We’ve been trying to bring him in him
since.”

“Oh, Tyr.” I breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. There is nothing normal about
Fenrir, even by immortal standards. He is diabolically smart. He’s
callous, and conniving, and cruel. Despite everything I tried to
teach him, he’s taken the worst parts of each of his parents, and
turned into this heinous being. He may look like a wolf, but inside
he’s a calculating mastermind. I’m not kidding, Mia. He’s become a
monster—or maybe he always was, and I was just an idiot. I don’t
know anymore. My scout in Muspelheim has seen Fenrir with the fire
giants twice now. He may be working with them, but it’s equally
possible he’s conspiring with one of the dark elves, or
Jörmungandr.”

“With who?” I wrapped my arms around my
knees.

“The Midgard Serpent. There’s a sea snake
that literally circles your world.”

Tyr didn’t blink. He wasn’t kidding.

“That’s absurd. We’d see something like that
in satellite photos. And no scientific journal has ever mentioned a
world-circling snake.”

“He’s cloaked, Mia. You think Odin would let
mortals know about something like that?”

“Oh.” I shivered. Tyr moved his hand down my
side and rubbed slow circles along my back with his thumb. Anxiety
battled with pleasure in my frontal lobe.

“So what do the Norns say about Fenrir?
Besides his being a beastly bargaining chip?”

Tyr pressed his lips together in a tight
frown, almost as if he was pushing down the sadness that percolated
in his eyes. “The Norns say Fenrir’s the most calculating demon the
realms have seen in centuries. But that he’s more useful to us
alive than dead.”

“That’s it?”

“We get a big picture explanation, a lot like
your fortune cookies.”

“
A wondrous package is coming your
way
? That’s what my last one said.”

Tyr snickered. “Your fortune came true,
baby.”

“Knock it off.” I smiled, in spite of myself.
“Does it bother you not to know more?”

“The Norns say sharing the details would take
the joy out of living, but I disagree.”

“Exactly. They have all of this information,
and they don’t do anything to help the good guys.” On this we were
in sync.

“Details are data. They can be processed,
planned for. The more I know about a given situation, the more I
can manipulate it for the protection of the realms. I get special
access to a few select files because in my case, knowledge
literally is power. And my special access is what tipped me off to
the hack.”

“The hack?” I asked.

“Someone hacked the Norns’ security and stole
the files disclosing the fates of the Aesir.”