Chapter 1: Expect the Unexpected
If someone had told Anders Johnson the story of his death, Anders would have asked two questions. One: "What are you on right now?" And two: "Can I have some?" After all, heroic sacrifices weren't really his thing. Mike's – yeah. Axl's – sure, if his little curly-haired girlfriend was involved. But Anders Johnson? Not even.
But when Natalie burst into his apartment, dressed in that admittedly sexy leather getup and brandishing a decidedly unsexy crossbow – when Helen, dazzling in her apple-green dress, strode out and grinned cockily at the intruder – Anders had only one thought: It always ends badly for her. Olaf's words, which Ty had so kindly informed him of at the nearest opportunity, spun around his chest and rose into his throat like bile. Yes, if he were to be honest, Helen scared him nearly as much as Eva had. Yes, their relationship hadn't been what he'd call… well, healthy, as the pain in his groin reminded him. But she was his: the Iðunn to his Bragi, the apple of his eye.
There was a resounding click as Natalie cocked the crossbow, her dead blue eyes locked on Helen's. Bragi looked at Iðunn, his heart ripping out of his chest and ice worse than anything Ty could've produced snaking down his spine. Ty's voice fizzed like venom in his ear: It always ends badly for her.
"Not this time," he whispered–
And he jumped.
At the start of time there was only darkness. Thick, crushing darkness the color of the deep sea, born of the love between Ranginui and Papatūānuku, the father and the mother, bound in an eternal embrace. Their children languished in the darkness, damp with the breath of their father and hot with the love of Papa's arms as they encircled Rangi. And so they lay, until Tāne had an idea…
Gaia caught her breath, her eyes refocusing as she looked wildly around. Bright sunlight touched the river and streamed across the tense faces of the gods and goddesses behind her. Not a trace of the stifling blue darkness remained in her surroundings.
"–you all right, dear?" Ingrid was asking, hands clasped.
Gaia blinked. I don't know, she wanted to say, but settled for nodding her head.
"E haamata te reira," George said, gesturing to the water. "It begins."
Ingrid smiled. "Come on," she said, steering Gaia forward. "Your destiny awaits, my lady Frigg."
"Not even," Jerome interjected, throwing Gaia a wink. "You mean my Papatūānuku, eh?"
Gaia felt slightly sick to her stomach. "I don't belong to you," she mumbled, too softly for Jerome to hear.
"No way. You should've heard the way she was going on about marriage yesterday!" Axl replied hotly. "How it's beautiful and magical and… and all that. Frigg talk if I ever heard it."
"But you haven't," Jerome rejoindered, smirking. "How would you know Frigg speaks like that, if you've never met–"
"Boys!" Ingrid said, eyes flashing. "I'd like to remind you that this is a sacred ceremony. Feel free to squabble like children afterward – but until then, please keep your lips sealed!"
Jerome crossed his arms and Axl looked vaguely sullen; but both fell quiet.
"Sorry about that," Ingrid said, patting Gaia's shoulder. "Boys will be boys, you know – even if they are all-powerful gods. Ooh!" she added, glancing down. "The sun's nearly in the right position. Better get in, dear."
Gaia nodded again and took a step, then another and another until she could feel the cool river lapping at her ankles. Her legs glowed golden in the early evening light, and her long dress swirled around her like a cloud. She waded in up to her knees, to the point where the shade melted away and sunlight turned the water clear and green as pounamu.
"Good luck, Gaia!" Axl yelled suddenly, breaking the nervous silence that had settled around the group on the riverbank. "I love you, no matter what happens!"
"Not as much as I do, Papa!" Jerome shouted, not to be outdone.
"Shut up, dicks," Michele whispered furiously. "Can't you see she's having a moment?"
"Sorry," Axl whispered sheepishly.
Gaia ignored them, and walked. The water reached the top of her thighs, and suddenly electricity shot through her like a spear. She gasped, arching out of the water and falling backward with a heavy splash.
"Never seen that before," she heard Olaf remark, before everything went black.
There was one terrible moment of silence – and then Helen screamed. There were no words in her screech; nor could there be. The emotion that swept through her now was beyond human comprehension. Her other half, her Bragi, the light of her existence and the voice of her heart, had been snuffed out by… what? A psycho bitch with a crossbow? Her gaze crackled as she stared at the arrow sticking out of Anders' chest, then turned to Natalie. "You," Helen hissed.
"I did it for the True God," Natalie said, but her voice shook and there was a distinct spark of fear in her eyes. She had never killed before. The shock of the dead body lying on the ground, combined with the wrathful goddess standing in front of her, was beginning to put a crack in her calm façade.
"The True God," Helen said, stepping forward. Then, as quickly as it came, the rage dissolved from her face and she smiled serenely. "The True God."
Sweat poured down Natalie's back. She wanted to do something, to load her crossbow, to run, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. God damn it, she thought instinctively, then nearly cried. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blaspheme…
The stiff sensation spread up to her knees, and she glanced down. Dull horror clenched her chest as she realized that it wasn't simply psychosomatic: her legs had fused together, and gnarled brown bark crawled up her thighs. "What–" she whispered, but her voice was abruptly cut off as her throat closed up.
Helen reached out and gently brushed her fingers against Natalie's chest. Her face was still sweet and serene as she pressed, digging deeper and deeper through skin and flesh and past Natalie's ribs, ignoring the other woman's screams. Finally, Helen's hand closed around something hard, and with an echoing squelch she pulled it out. She looked down at it, and couldn't help but burst into laughter. An apple, she thought wonderingly, watching as Natalie's lifeless body exploded into a shower of leaves before it touched the floor.
A soft groan from the corner where Anders lay caught Helen's attention. Dropping the apple, she flew to his side and knelt down.
"That… was fucking… awesome," Anders said, his voice so soft and ragged she could barely make out the words.
"You're alive," Helen breathed. She felt like slapping him, or kissing him, or doing both at the same time.
"Guess so," Anders said, mouth curving up as he tried to get to his feet. He fell back, his head hitting the floor with a thud, and winced in pain.
"Wait," Helen said. "Don't move. I'll call… I'll call…"
"You… can't. They'll be at… Gaia's ceremony," Anders mumbled.
Helen bit her lip. Then her eyes widened and she leapt to her feet, scrabbling in her purse for her phone. "Not all of them!" she exclaimed, and began to dial.
The hot darkness undulated around Gaia once more, worming its way into her nose and ears and settling over her like a liquid blanket. She coughed and spluttered and thrashed, but to no avail: it hugged her tighter and tighter, getting under her skin and squeezing her brain.
And then it was gone. Gaia shielded her eyes and sat up as blinding sunlight rushed over her and fresh air coursed into her lungs. When her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she found herself standing in a clearing.
"Come, my beloved," a man's voice echoed in her ears. She turned to find the speaker, to scream and rage at him, but the world around her was already shifting and changing. She sprawled six hundred feet tall in a lush forest, drowsing beneath a tree the size of her forearm. Beside her a bird chirped, shattering the quiet with its mirth…
"This… isn't normal, is it?" Axl asked, voice hushed as he watched the water bubble furiously around Gaia's prone form.
"Not for the average goddess, no," Ingrid replied. "But she's the Frigg. Wife of Odin, mother of the gods. Normality can hardly be expected, can it?"
"Yeah, I reckon," Axl said, not entirely reassured. A tinny rendition of "You Oughta Be in Love" filled the clearing, startling him so badly he nearly fell backward.
"Good Lord, woman," Colin said bitingly, turning away from Gaia to glance at Michele. "You attend a sacred goddess ceremony, and don't even bother to silence your cell phone?"
"Stuff it," Michele muttered, flipping him off as she answered the call. "Hello? What do you– Who? He what?" She sighed impatiently. "Of course. Trust him to be a complete wanker. All right, all right, I'll be there."
Mike gave her a disapproving look. "You're leaving? Can't this wait until after–"
"No," Michele said brusquely, shoving her phone back into her purse. "It can't. Let me know if she turns out to be Frigg, by the way!" she added, as she strode briskly away.
"Typical," Colin scoffed. "She always pulls out just as it's getting good."
"You're disgusting," Stacey informed him, and scowled as he leered back at her.
"Hey!" Axl yelled, pointing toward the water. "Everyone, shut up and look over here!"
The deities, moving as one entity, turned in the direction of his finger – and a collective gasp echoed across their ranks. Gaia no longer lay immersed. Instead, she stood bolt upright, her feet at least six feet above the river's surface as tendrils of water curled around her and framed her visage, mingling with her flowing hair. Ingrid's dress had disappeared. A feathered cape fell from below her shoulders, and a knee-length maro apron was tied around her waist. Each shoulder was marked with a koru, the frond of the sacred fern; her lips were inked black, and an elaborate tattoo spiraled down to her chin. Gaia was beautiful; she smoldered with power; she was…
"Māori," Axl said, not quite able to hide the disappointment in his voice.
"au matike," Gaia said, and a hundred thousand voices spoke in unison with her. The water cascaded away from below her. In a single fluid motion she sprang forward, and landed squarely on the bank in front of the assembled crowd.
"Papatūānuku!" Jerome cried, rushing forward and gathering Gaia into his arms and planting a kiss on her mouth. "My love!"
Gaia contemplated him for a moment. Then she reeled back and slammed her fist square into his jaw. Jerome keeled over in shock, clutching his face in pain. "Do not address me by that name," she said coldly, pushing away from him.
The gods gaped at her, open-mouthed. "So if you're not Papatūā… something, does– does that mean you're Frigg?" Axl asked hopefully.
"I don't think Frigg wore face tattoos and a bloody cape of feathers, Axl," Mike snapped.
"But she clearly isn't Papatūānuku either," Ingrid said, frowning.
George stepped forward, face solemn, and addressed Gaia. "I am–"
"My cousin Punga, son of Tangaroa," Gaia finished. She gestured toward Leon. "My uncle Rongo, the brother of Rehua, who bore Kaitangata, the father of…" – her eyes flicked toward Jerome and hardened – "…Māui."
George followed her gaze – and, upon seeing her expression, blanched. "My God," he said softly. "Hine."
Gaia nodded, and George looked as if he'd been clubbed over the head.
"What's going on?" Mike asked, frowning.
"The prophecy," George mumbled frantically. "I was sure she would… It said–"
"Not Papatūānuku," Leon said, shaking his head. "Hine-nui-te-pō."
The Norse deities looked at him uncomprehendingly. "Hine who?" Axl asked.
"Hine-nui-te-pō," George said. "The goddess of night, and of death. Slayer of Māui," he added, gesturing to the now-fearful Jerome.
Gaia smiled sharply as the sun sank below the horizon.
Michele kicked the door open and burst into Anders' apartment, hands clasped firmly around the branch of Yggdrasil. "Where is he?" she demanded.
"Here," Ty said, nodding at his brother's prone form.
"Hurry," Helen said from beside Anders. "He's getting worse by the minute."
"Don't tell me what to do," Michele groused, running her hands down the stick and feeling the glow of the Tree of Life spread through her fingers.
"Stop caressing the bloody branch and get over here!" Helen snapped.
"Keep your mouth shut or I'll knock you out with the bloody branch," Michele replied.
"Michele–" Ty began, but his voice was drowned out by Helen's.
"This is Anders' life, you bitch!"
"Michele–" Ty said again. Both goddesses ignored him.
"I don't give a fuck!" Michele yelled. "I've missed Gaia's ceremony to come here and do this shit, and I won't–"
"HE ISN'T BREATHING!" Ty roared.
Michele whipped around. Anders' face was stark white and his eyes glazed over, staring blankly into space. As they watched, a golden mist began to seep out of his parted lips and dissipate across the room, spiraling into nothingness in front of their eyes.
"No," Helen whispered, dropping her head onto his chest.
Michele squeezed Yggdrasil one more time before stepping forward. "Out of the way," she said, and there was something in her voice that made Helen obey her.
"She can save him," Ty informed Helen. "But he'll be different."
"Different how?" Helen asked, going pale when Ty hesitated.
"Human," Ty said finally. "Michele will revive him with Yggdrasil, but he won't be Bragi anymore, just as I'm not Höðr. The stuff we saw earlier – that was his godly spirit, leaving his vessel."
Helen stared at him, eyes wide, as Anders began to stir.