Page 95 of Dead Heat

“Yggdrasil, which I’ll access through the crossroads.”

“You think you can make your way to Yggdrasil right from Wild Acres?” He sounded dubious.

“I do. Multirealm crossroads, remember?”

“Why haven’t we seen any creatures from Helheim in Fairhaven?”

“Because once you’re there, it isn’t the type of place you can leave.”

“I don’t like the idea of you going there on your own. If you don’t come back, how will we ever know what happened to you?”

I smiled. “You know, Ray? Your sunny optimism is your best quality.”

“I’m serious. I always hated those unsolved mysteries, where you know something bad happened to the people, but their loved ones never find out the truth. The uncertainty is almost worse than the tragedy itself.”

“Or you could have that certainty and believe your parents died in a tragic accident, only to find out years later that you’d been deceived your whole life.” Certainty was only preferable if the information was true.

Ray glanced away. “What would happen to Ingrid and me if you never returned?”

“You know what happens, Ray. Nothing.”

“We’d remain here for eternity,” he said. “That’s not nothing.”

“It’s the choice you made when you decided to stay.” I couldn’t promise to stay here forever; nobody could.

“It isn’t just us I’m worried about,” he said. “Obviously, I care what happens to you. I don’t like the idea of you pushing a boulder uphill for eternity. I know how much you hate manual labor.”

I laughed. “Helheim isn’t a place of punishment. If I get trapped there, I’ll be miserable but not tortured.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

I observed the map again. “I’ll go over this with Kane. He might have ideas.”

“That doesn’t strike me as ideal date night material,” Ray said.

“Without a good escape plan, this could be our last date. It’s in his best interest to have the discussion.”

“You know, Lorelei? Your sunny optimism is your best quality,” he teased.

I narrowed my eyes at the ghost. “It’s only funny when I say it.”

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Nana Pratt didn’t need witchcraft. The elderly woman was capable of magic without it.

The sapphire blue dress hugged my body without emphasizing any lumps or bumps. The material was cut just above the knee, which I preferred in case I needed to sprint. A liminal deity should always be prepared. There was a bit more cleavage than I expected from Nana Pratt. I suspected that she simply ran out of time to add a floral lace high-neck collar.

“Gun is going to regret his attitude.” I snapped a photo of the reflection and sent it to him. He replied immediately with two fire emojis followed by a melting face emoji.

Which shoes?he asked, then added.No boots.

I wasn’t planning to ruin the look with boots, I wrote.

No sneakers either.

I stared at the phone, unwilling to admit that I had, in fact, intended to wear sneakers. In my defense, they were pale blue and matched the dress.

I yanked open the door of the bedroom closet and scanned the limited options. I was woefully devoid of footwear.

“What about Aite’s shoes?” Nana Pratt asked.

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