Part 11 (2/2)

Grimnir grunted a greeting, but Mist was preoccupied with Hod's companion, who, unlike the others, was dressed in modern clothing-jeans and a Greenpeace sweats.h.i.+rt punctured by two ragged holes and caked with dried blood. Hermod realized now why she seemed so familiar.

”Hermod,” Mist said in a choked voice, ”I'd like you to meet my sister.”

LIKE A TRUSTY Scout leader, Henry Verdant ushered Hermod and his companions, along with Hod and Lilly, through a gap between the rocks, where a rickety ladder fas.h.i.+oned from sticks led down into a cramped tunnel.

”Dug by hand and stone,” Henry said with pride, his face flickering in the uncanny light of bioluminescent torches stuck into the walls.

Hermod managed to summon a noise of appreciation. He remembered Nana saying how rare fire was in Helheim. ”You people live down here?”

”Not this particular tunnel, no. This one's a staging area.” Verdant went on to tell Hermod about the tunnel network: miles of underground warrens that served as hiding places, escape chutes, storage caches for the Iowans' crude weapons and tools, and places like this, which emerged at watch points near the road.

Hermod drew a fingernail along the wall. Sandy rock flaked away. ”And you dug this whole thing yourselves?”

”Oh, no,” Verdant said, waving off the notion. ”A lot of it was done by others who came before us.”

”There have always been escape attempts in Helheim,” Hod said from the shadows. ”Sometimes those who still have a desire to live and the will to do something about it manage to find one another and organize their efforts. But n.o.body has ever actually made it out, as far as I know. The hound gets them, and they end up being incorporated into the corpse gate. You're the exception, of course.”

”Back then, Hel was willing to let me go,” Hermod said. ”I won't get a guarantee of safe pa.s.sage this time.”

”Still, it's fortunate our paths crossed,” said Hod. ”I think you can be of use to us.”

Hermod didn't like Hod's phrasing. ”Haven't we all had enough of being 'of use' to one another? Loki used you to kill Baldr, and now I'm being used by ... I don't know by whom. By Odin, or the sibyl, or Hel maybe.”

”I simply meant that I hoped you would stay and help us. I realize dropping in only to move on shortly thereafter is in your nature.”

Verdant held up a hand. ”Let's not put the cart before the horse, now. No offense, Mr. Hod, but we just took you and Lilly on, and I have to remind you, it wasn't a unanimous decision. I understand these newcomers are your kin, and I'm sure they're fine folk, but we'll need to talk over whether they can stay or not.”

”Town meeting?” said Hermod.

Verdant answered firmly, ”That's how we do things around here.”

The Iowans filed through a slit in the tunnel, which led to a larger chamber, leaving Hermod and his companions behind, along with Hod and Lilly.

”They seem like nice enough people,” Grimnir said. ”Hel's going to chew them like kibble with gravy.”

”Quite possibly,” agreed Hod.

Now that they were away from the Iowans, Hermod had so many questions for his brother he scarcely knew where to begin. He turned to Mist for help, but she and Lilly stood looking at each other intently, both with their arms stiffly at their sides, as if they were afraid to use them.

”You good?” Lilly asked Mist.

”Pretty much. You?”

”Considering everything? Yeah.”

”Hug now?” Mist said.

”Yeah.”

They held each other, weeping just a little.

Hermod turned back to Hod. He had thinned and whitened, like a forgotten garment hung out to dry, a necklace of purple bruises around his throat.

”These farmers are your resistance?” Hermod said.

”They're not farmers anymore. They're fighters now. I'll show you.”

Hod led him through a twisting pa.s.sage that opened onto a s.p.a.cious chamber. ”This is the Iowans' armory.”

Hermod took in their cache of rocks, slings, bows carved of bone, and arrows of brittle-looking wood. Grimnir was right: Hel would annihilate these people.

”How many of these resistance cells are there?” he asked.

”I don't know, and neither do they,” Hod said, leading the way back out of the chamber. ”They work autonomously, hara.s.sing Hel and her soldiers. Mostly they just succeed in irritating Baldr, but that's something.”

”What happened with you two? Despite your differences, you used to be so close.”

”In Asgard, Baldr always shone,” Hod said. ”Here, it's dark. It turns out Baldr gives less light than he takes. He became smaller in Helheim, and meaner. But don't judge him too harshly. After a long time in Hel's realm, it is difficult not to wear away until you're nothing but a ghost woven from memory and resentment.”

Henry Verdant met them in the corridor. ”So, how about it, Mr. Hermod? Would you and your friends care to join forces with us?”

Really, Hermod would have preferred not to. ”What about my dog?” he said, resigned.

Verdant smiled warmly. ”So long as he doesn't bite the wrong people, he's welcome.”

Using the femur of some animal, Verdant tapped a rhythm on the cavern wall. Within a few minutes, the resistance had a.s.sembled in the weapons cache room. There were about forty people in all.

Verdant cleared his throat. ”Most of you know I was in a field artillery battery in France. Three whole days on the front line, mostly pus.h.i.+ng horses through mud, until I was captured. I spent the rest of the war in the Langensalza POW camp. We had three objectives there: survive, escape, and sabotage. I know things aren't the same in Helheim as in that camp. For one thing, we're dead. As for escape, thousands and thousands have tried, and thousands and thousands have failed. But Mr. Hod has shared with me some new information, some new possibilities that promise hope. I've already talked it over with a few of you, and if you'll give Mr. Hod your attention, he'll tell you the rest.”

Verdant moved aside, and after a moment Lilly guided Hod forward. Hermod had an uncomfortable flashback of Hod standing in the middle of Valhalla with a mistletoe spear in his hands, and from the look on Hod's face, he might have been having the same thought.

”I have been in Helheim a very long time,” Hod began. ”When I first came here, there was no Iowa. The continent in Midgard you came from wasn't even occupied by humans.”

”Not even Indians?” said the little dead boy, Steven.

”Not even Indians,” Hod said. ”In the intervening time, billions of people have entered Helheim, but only Hermod ever left it alive.” Hermod s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably. ”The s.h.i.+p Naglfar has been under construction ever since things first started to die. The s.h.i.+p is made of death. Her hull is lined with the fingernails of the dead. Her boards are bones. Her sail is flesh. It's long been known that, in the time of Ragnarok, Naglfar will break free from her moorings. She will deliver Hel's dead army to the final battle and bring yet more destruction to the worlds. The details of this prophecy, however, are unclear. Some say the s.h.i.+p will set sail with Loki at the helm. Others say she will be steered by the giant Hymir. When a prophecy so lacks clarity, I see opportunity.

”We were aware that Naglfar was moored here in Helheim, but until recently her exact location remained a secret. Now we know she lies east of here, anch.o.r.ed on the banks of a certain unnamed tributary of the river Gjoll. We will go there. We will board the s.h.i.+p as galley slaves, and we will take her over. She will be our tool, not Hel's.”

Hermod sighed. He'd been hoping to hear a good plan.

As the a.s.sembly broke up into smaller groups to discuss various logistical issues, Hermod drew Mist and Grimnir off into a secluded corner.

”What do you guys think?” Mist asked. ”Suicide mission?”

”Obviously,” Grimnir said. ”Hel's army has actual weaponry and ammunition, the stuff she let them keep when they pa.s.sed into her lands. How are forty farmers with Stone Age technology supposed to take the s.h.i.+p?”

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