Page 20 of Rune

Balder faced the mountains, where a crisp breeze trickled down the slope to catch on the branches and create a melody amongst the leaves. The land called me to explore it; I’d love to hunt those woods or farm on land such as this. If I wasn’t afraid for my life right now, I’d be running through the hills. It was more serene than I imagined Asgard to be, until I turned northward.

There was the city, and it stole my breath.

Palaces, cathedrals, a citadel in the center and turrets upon the corners. Everything adorned with golden banners and ruby crusted plates. I was instantly grateful I’d been brought here instead of there. Still, I shouldn’t be here at all. “I shouldn’t be here,” I told him plainly.

“You belong here.” As if that settled that, Balder swung to face Frigg, who still stared at me. “And we must celebrate the return of our lost goddess.”

Frigg nodded as her eyes welled with tears. The look she gave me was so tender, it brought a sting to my own eyes.

I should turn away, but for one guilty moment, I absorbed that look. I allowed myself to be adored. Just a moment though. That’s all I allowed myself. This was not the truth, and I would not be so dishonorable by taking the place of this goddess as if it was mine to claim.

I opened my mouth to deny them, and explain I vividly remembered my childhood. More than that—I thought as the proof against their claims stacked up—I looked very much like my siblings.Móðirshowed me the scar from how I came out of her as the only one of her children to not come easily. It was not possible for me to be anyone other than Rune, the diligent Viking who minded her business in school and training.

Then I clamped my mouth shut.

A story had circulated through the clan when I was younger, and the uniqueness of it stayed with me, for not many stories tell of a man entering Asgard. But one man did, a man determined to beg the gods to bring his wife back from the dead.

The interesting part was how he got into Asgard. He pretended to be a god.

What happened to him?I’d asked.

He died,our teacher had told us.And was thrown from Asgard. No one pretends to be a god and gets away with it.

Dizziness clouded my head.

I am Rune, goddess of determinationand wit.

I had done the same thing.

I had become the man from the story, and if I made a wrong move, I’d end up just like him. Killed, and thrown from Asgard.

It would be better to slip away quietly. They’d lost a god once; they could easily lose a mortal.

I plastered on a smile that I hoped looked grateful and overwhelmed all at the same time, and put a hand to my chest. “I don’t know what to say,” I lied. In truth, my knees were shaky and all I could think of was how each of them were strong enough to break me with the snap of their fingers.

He grinned, and whispered so Frigg couldn’t hear. “Perhaps don’t tell anyone you renounced the gods. It would not be a good look for you.”

I risked a smile. “Noted.” My voice was clear. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

Already, I was planning my escape.

EighT

I USED EVERY free moment before Balder’s return to scout the land for an escape.

While I still refused to believe I was in Asgard, the proof was lining up in alarming number.

The sparkling rivers ran bluer than they ought to. The trees dripped with oranges and lemons though we were nowhere near a climate that allowed for such fruits. Not to mention the clouds on the ground, flittering about in whisps along the mountainside as if that were a perfectly normal place for them to be.

And how quickly Balder recovered after taking a knife to the thigh.

Back home, we teetered on the edge of autumn, but here it was firmly in summer, and the heat gathered in sweat on my brow. I wiped it dry as I turned my eyes north. Mountains laid claim to the land as far as I could see, dotted with sweeping valleys and majestic temples, and setwith low hanging clouds—sometimes low enough that they hung in the valley and shielded the grass from sight. As the sky darkened from above, flickers of light burst forth from lanterns all through the mountain range.

The most brilliant of lights came from atop one of the mountains, where a gray and white home sat. I didn’t need someone to tell me that was where Odin lived, for no one else could reside over something so beautiful.

It was practically a mountain itself, surrounded by a river of fire and decorated with strands of eucalyptus, with endless balconies and towering pillars, and a grand courtyard leading up to golden front doors.

I’d felt fear before, but the feeling shuddering down my spine was greater. It pulsed through every inch of my body.

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