Chapter Thirty-Three - Ghosts and Visions
Clint hadn't dreamed of his dad much in recent years and certainly not in such vivid detail. His dad looked just the way Clint remembered him, tall and strong with tired eyes from working so much overtime, features that always seemed to be smiling, and hair just starting to show gray around his temples. There was a younger version of Clint in the dream too, not nearly old enough to be considered a teen, but plenty tall enough to fool people who didn't know him. Father and son stood at the viewing window of a hospital nursery, staring down through the glass at a rosy-skinned newborn with pudgy features, wrapped in a pink blanket.
"Whatcha think?" His dad asked, giving the young Clint a playful nudge. "Your baby sister is pretty cute, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Young Clint said, looking uncertain. "I would have settled for a dog or a new bike instead."
His dad laughed and mussed the kid's hair. "You'll grow to like her in time. Think of all the stuff you'll get to teach her; and she's going to worship the ground you walk on, Son."
The scene went dark as a chill washed over Clint, stealing away the lingering warmth of the moment with his dad. After a brief wait, his surroundings brightened enough to reveal he was now inside a large stone building. Strange, smoky snakes collected by the dozens around a hovering white form of radiant energy. Clint found himself moving toward the form, overcome with a strong curiosity that gave way to shock when he recognized his sister's features, nearly washed out by the light she gave off. Then her terrified, disembodied voice called out, pleading for someone to rescue her.
Again the scene changed, going dark before switching to something new. This time he stood in what looked very similar to the Mischief Maker's suite back on the helicarrier. The furniture and carpet were different, but the layout was exactly the same. A man with short, brown hair sat in front of him on a couch facing the opposite direction. Clint stepped up and to the side, soon recognizing his own build. A pair of dark sunglasses partly hid this Clint's features. He wore a black, yet unmarked uniform. A voice recited a mission report from a compact computer he was holding in his hand.
The lock released on the suite door, followed by Natasha's familiar voice calling out, "We're home."
"How was Asgard?" the seated Clint asked, turning his head ever so slightly and pausing the audio playback on the computer.
"Beautiful as always."
The sound of short, rushing strides crossed the carpet, then a small boy, probably only three years old, came around the side of the couch and hurled himself into the other Clint's lap, causing him to groan as he feigned being hurt. "Geez, you weigh a ton. What have they been feeding you in the Realm Eternal?"
"Daddy," the boy said with bright and expressive blue-green eyes, "Untle For gived me a pony. A blat one."
"Black? Wow, kiddo. That's so cool," his father said with a wide grin. "Where are we going to keep a horse?"
Natasha walked up, tossing her jacket over the back of the nearby armchair. Her hair was longer and she wore casual civilian clothes. "The horse is going to stay in Odin's stable," she answered, sounding weary. "Hey," she said to the boy, "take your bag in your room for me."
The boy climbed down, dashing off to follow the request and disappeared into the center room on the right side.
Natasha eased onto the couch. "Everyone missed you, especially Cami."
"I wasn't up to making an appearance this time. Maybe for her birthday." Natasha frowned, but he didn't seem to notice or perhaps chose not to react. He asked with concern, "You had them test him again, right?"
"Yeah. No symptoms."
"Good."
"Have you seen anything you want to share with me?" she asked, tapping his forehead above the bridge of the sunglasses.
He sought out her hand to hold within his own. "No—except you're mighty beautiful."
"Past, present or future me?"
"All of you," he said, kissing her hand.
The dream faded into black.
Clint woke when he felt a firm squeeze at his shoulder. With some effort his eyes focused on the queen. Clint felt both elated that his eyesight had returned and discouraged by the dull ache in his head.
"How are you feeling?" Frigga asked.
He slipped his legs off the bench to sit up. Again the task required more effort than usual as his head didn't appear to like the motion. "Not so great."
"Tell me what you've figured out," Frigga said, handing him a plate of food. "I'll try to fill in the rest."
Clint took the chance to eat some while he thought over what he should say. Part of him wanted to get angry with her and make all sorts of spiteful accusations about how Asgard's royal family had screwed up his and Cami's lives; but when he looked at Queen Frigga, he saw her sincere concern and willingness to help. He knew he would have to find some other target for his frustration than the mother of two of his close friends.
Since they were alone, aside from Cami, Clint decided not to let his discomfort stop him from getting the issue out on the table. "When Odin said he was going to destroy himself to take out the Bad Loki, my vision was all blurred, yet I saw the hallway outside this room in my mind. You, Natasha and some of the others were running to assist us when an explosion took out that wall." Clint pointed across the room to the wall with the entry. "People were hurt. Badly hurt. I think some even died."
"Odin was bluffing," the queen said. "He hoped to lure the double closer with the threat of killing Cami and Loki along with himself. Perhaps something would have gone wrong with his plan, and that result is what you saw."
"Like a psychic vision?"
She nodded.
"Can dreams also be visions?"
"They won't always be," she said with a knowing look. "It can take time to learn the difference."
"I take it you see things too."
"All my life. Seers are rare; and the power of providence is perhaps the most addictive and destructive use of magic. I have seen and shared things with others that I wish I had not. The lives of so many can be affected by how individuals choose to use their knowledge. We can actually cause something to happen by the actions we take in trying to stop it."
Her insights were not comforting, but Clint appreciated her candor. "Should I tell you what I saw in my dream?"
"If you would like."
He told her of the scene in the hospital first since the dream started there. Frigga listened so intently to his every word, that Clint found it quite easy to talk with her. "I guess the hospital stuff was probably more of a memory," he concluded.
"Sometimes it is good to be reminded. The past is where we learn our most valuable lessons."
Clint would have brooded this insight over for a while if she hadn't been waiting for him to go on. "After that I was in a large, stone building. It was very old and there were these snakes that looked like they were made out of smoke or mist or something like that."
"The shadow serpents of Niflheim," the queen suggested.
"Niflheim," Clint repeated, his mind considering. "I saw Cami there, only she was white and luminous like my people would think of an angel. She was really frightened and calling for help because she was trapped."
Frigga got up and moved to sit at Cami's side, placing one hand on her forehead and the other upon her upper chest. Her eyes closed, body tensing as she concentrated. Clint abandoned his plate and stepped over too.
Frigga turned pale before his eyes. "I think Cami's soul has been removed from her body."
"Completely removed?!"
"Not quite, obviously, or she'd be dead." Frigga pointed toward a pile of fresh linens and blankets. "Bring one of those heavier blankets over."
Clint retrieved a blanket, his mind filling with questions. "Are we taking her somewhere?"
"Yes. We're going to Niflheim."
Clint reached for his communicator, but stopped short of activating it when Frigga flashed him a look of warning.
"This is something you and I alone are going to do. Hel is very displeased with the king and her father. I will talk to her." Frigga wrapped Cami in the blanket, picking her up like a weightless, life-sized rag doll. "You will need your bow and a warm coat."
Clint had rushed off on unauthorized missions before, but none of those instances compared to the prospect of realm hopping with the Queen of Asgard to infiltrate the Underworld. "I kinda doubt I can hurt a half-dead goddess with an arrow. Even Loki caught one I fired at him once."
"Hel's strength is her intellect. Her physical body can be injured; and she knows it. The bow will only be for a deterrent unless things go badly."
"My main bow is in the command center. My backup is in my room."
Frigga urged him to take the lead, but avoid as many servants as possible. "We will get the bow from your room then continue to the stables. Undoubtedly, someone will see us, but your team is distracted at the moment and we just might get away if we hurry."
By the time they reached the stables, at least a dozen servants and guards had given them curious looks or come right out and asked if they needed assistance. Frigga handled these interactions with a quick wit that allowed them to keep moving.
"Is that charm of yours going to work on Heimdall?"
"We're not taking the bifrost," the queen said, rushing up to the largest stall where Odin's horse Sleipnir was stabled. "Can you saddle and bridle a horse?"
"Yeah, I spent every summer at my grandparents' ranch until they passed away." Clint opened the gate and stepped into the stall, taking in the massive eight-legged creature.
"Sleipnir," Frigga called to the horse, "we need your help."
The horse walked over to her, offering a quick nuzzle then seemed to take interest in Cami cradled in her arms.
While the horse was distracted, Clint took the opportunity to put the sizable saddle on him. Then the horse turned, lowering his head when he approached with the bridle, quickening the application process. "Good boy," Clint said, patting Sleipnir's nose.
Frigga gave Cami to Clint while she climbed up on the horse, then took her back while he mounted in front of her and took the reins.
"Hold on tight," the queen said to Clint, then spoke directly to the horse. "Take us to Niflheim, Sleipnir. Take us to Hel."
The horse walked into the center aisle of the stables, turned and then took off at a speed unlike anything Clint had experienced from a dead start before. He gripped the reins and clung with his legs to keep from falling as they sped across the grass. To his amazement, they began to lift into the air. He dared to peek as the ground fell away, watching the horse's broad hooves land and push forward as if the air were solid.
"Holy shit," Clint said with fearful exhilaration as the colors of the sky melted away to the black of space. He enjoyed the nerve-racking ride past worlds and astral phenomena beyond what he knew he would be able to describe later as it all seemed to flash by them so fast.
As they approached Niflheim, it looked as gray and lifeless as a rock partially hidden beneath dark clouds. Frigga warned him about the wall of energy surrounding the realm right before they passed through. A wave of magic swept over them, causing a subtle tingling on Clint's flesh that lingered like a persistent itch as Sleipnir continued to descend upon the nightmare that was the Underworld.
To Clint's horror, the dead milled about like mindless sheep upon the endless landscape of rock, snow and ice. Decay had stolen their unique features, leaving each as unidentifiable as the next. "My God," he said, too overwhelmed with instant fear, despair and the fierce bite of the frigid air on his hands and face to put more of his thoughts or emotions into words. He forced these distractions aside as his training had taught him to do.
After a gradual descent, Sleipnir's hooves met ground once again. He slowed his speed as they approached a single stone structure.
"This is the Hall of Justice," Frigga told Clint.
"Why is it called that?"
"As the queen of the realm, it is Hel's duty to judge the deeds of each soul that comes to Niflheim then decide which existence that soul will have through eternity. Niflheim has multiple levels of paradise and torment for Hel to choose from."
"So, these are the sinners?" Clint asked. "They don't get to go to some version of paradise?"
"Actually, these souls await their judgments. Many have dwelled here for centuries, but Hel refuses to judge them." They reached the hall and came to a halt at the large double doors. "Stay close to Sleipnir," Frigga said, sliding down from the saddle, still clutching Cami against her. "We will not be able to leave if we become separated from him."
Clint dismounted as well. He patted the horse's neck. "You'll make sure we get out of here, right?" He relied on Odin's word that Sleipnir was smart enough to understand him. So, it was a relief when Sleipnir's head lifted then lowered in a recognizable nod of agreement.
Clint pushed open one of the large, yet relatively lightweight doors. The air that wafted from the opening smelled to him like an old musty tomb. Frigga led the way in. Clint and Sleipnir stayed just a few strides behind her. Snakes littered the floor and crawled up the stone around them, but most amassed at the far end of the hall around Cami's brilliant spirit and a tall woman in white with long, dark hair who turned to reveal herself.
Though he knew what to expect, Clint decided that a simple description wasn't nearly good enough to prepare a person for their first meeting with the Queen of the Underworld. Hel was terrifying in appearance, even for Clint, who had a strange fondness for zombie movies. The initial shock of her half-decaying form was hard to manage, but Clint jammed it away inside, determined to be the dependable soldier for Queen Frigga, who looked stately and unaffected.
Hel said, "I haven't seen you in ages, Grandmother. You look well."
"As do you."
Mindful of the snakes, Clint moved out of Sleipnir's shadow to stand closer to Frigga where he could be seen. Hel watched his approach, her gaze drifting between his bow and features.
"You brought an assassin into my hall," Hel said with a wicked, split smile. "How interesting."
The eyes of Cami's spirit also watched Clint. "Be careful," she warned.
"I do not know you," Hel said to Clint, "but I sense..." Her gaze lowered and head moved just a fraction of a turn back toward Cami.
"Yeah," Clint said with a touch of boastfulness and implied threat, "I'm her overprotective and easily agitated big brother."
Again Hel smiled.
Clint wondered if she'd still be smiling if he drew his bow.
Shifting her hold on the bundled body, Frigga pulled back the edge of the blanket to reveal Cami's burn-scarred face. "We have come for her soul."
Hel took in the body before glancing back at Cami's spirit. "We'll have to tell them."
"Tell us what?" Clint asked, looking between them.
"I have been cursed with bad luck."
"Jahla did it to upset her magic," Hel explained. "If I restore her, the curse could kill her."
"Are you saying you did this to save her life?" Clint asked, thinking that no child of the God of Mischief should be trusted.
"No," Hel said.
"Then why?" Frigga asked.
"Because I could."
"Bad Loki has been telling her about me," Cami told them. "She said she was curious; and I think she's feeling lonely."
Hel chuckled, scoffed and shook her head. "Humans are so quick to jump to conclusions. I have many souls in my kingdom."
"When is the last time you spoke to any of them?" Frigga challenged. "You are negligent in your duties as queen."
"Niflheim is my realm." Hel insisted bitterly, "No one cares what happens here."
"Did you think you could do this and not get a response from Asgard? You have taken a soul that does not belong to you. Restore her," Frigga said, her tone authoritative.
"And if I won't?"
Clint kept his look menacing as he pulled the bow off his shoulder. He reached back, gripping an arrow in the quiver.
Hel showed little concern, but after some time spent evaluating Clint's decisive stance, she said, "Very well."
Hawkeye expected the Queen of the Underworld to produce some amazing magical effect, but Cami's spirit simply dimmed then was gone. Frigga stared with desperation at Cami's features, adding to Clint's own worry until Cami's eyes shifted beneath her lids then opened.
The snakes started toward them. Clint readied an arrow and aimed at Hel. "Keep your pests back!" he demanded.
Hel made a casual wave of her arm; and the serpents scattered for the far walls of the hall.
Clint felt Sleipnir nudge his back. He wondered if it was a gentle warning or a suggestion that it was time to go. He slipped the arrow back in his quiver and shouldered his bow in time to receive the wincing Cami from Frigga, who approached Hel, reaching out as if to gather her in an embrace.
"Don't bother," Hel said as she stepped away.
Frigga stiffened, dropping her arms. "Have you a message for Odin or your father?"
Hel looked to Sleipnir, and the horse moved forward to nuzzle her hands and face. She placed a kiss on his nose then wrapped her arms around his thick neck, holding on to him. "Tell my brothers that I miss them," she said, then withdrew, stepping into a mist that inexplicably flooded the hall.
"See?" Cami said to Clint, looking sorrowful.
"Yeah, I see," he said. A fierce spark of emotion burned in his chest as he held Cami a little tighter; and that discomfort failed to abate until they rode unchallenged out of Niflheim.