The safe house was basically a massive log cabin with a stable for the horses on one side and a parking garage on the other. When we arrived at the top of the long winding path several people came out of the cabin, more tall, blonde rebels. It was strange seeing them in jeans and winter jackets, instead of leather and chainmail.
I turned so Loki could hear me, “Do you guys wear normal clothes in Muspellhiem?”
Loki chuckled, “Normal clothes? What you humans wear isn’t normal. We only wear it when we have to blend in.”
“Oh,” I hadn’t been expecting that answer, “And do you ride horses there as well?”
“Of course,” Loki said proudly, “we don’t want your exhaust fumes poisoning the air of Niflheim. We only drive cars when we absolutely have to. Jotun are a proud people…”
“You mean you’re stubborn.” I interjected.
Loki made a protesting noise and urged the horse to go faster, jostling me in the saddle. One of the human-dressed jotun - a tall, thin woman - grabbed the reigns for us, allowing us to dismount.
“I’ll take him for you, go on in,” she said.
Loki dismounted first, offering me a helping hand. I took it gratefully, since every part of my body seemed to have turned completely stiff. We followed the crowd of rebels into the log cabin, pushing through the skinny doorway, eager to sit down by a warm fire and rest. I couldn’t wait to get onto a proper bed, whatever that would look like in here.
The inside of the cabin was even larger than I’d thought. There was a main room, a living room when you walked in. A roaring fire in one corner, over which a silver haired woman was stirring what looked like a cauldron of soup. There was a hallway off the living room, which divided into two sections, and a loft just above us. Secretly I hoped they would put me in the loft to sleep. Ever since I was a kid I’d wished for a house with a loft.
The furniture was basic, a little bit ratty, but the couches were soft, and that’s all that mattered. The rebels all expressed groans and sighs of relief. The ones that had come in with us flopped down and kicked off snow covered boots and shoes. The woman at the fire scolding us good naturedly that we were dirtying her floor. Still more rebels came trooping in, boots thundering on the hardwood.
The girls, Loki and I had found a long green and blue couch in the corner, and had laid claim to it. I tilted my head back, resting it on the squishy couch cushions, sighing with relief. Loki’s hand grazed my knee, and I looked sideways at him.
“It’s a relief to be somewhere safe, huh?”
I nodded. My body felt like jello. Now that I was safe I just wanted to sleep. We had escaped the palace and avoided being stabbed, the Queen hadn’t killed me in the woods, I hadn’t been eaten by a rabid wolf, and now I’d just like to get some sleep.
Before that was going to happen though, my stomach was insisting that it was time to be fed. We had skipped breakfast before leaving camp, and I’m sure it was well passed lunch.
The silver haired woman was beckoning people forward, handing out bowls of thick broth. It smelled like chicken noodle. The jotun tramping in the door went immediately to her, jumping into line. The last one to join was Erik. My stomach was rumbling violently by that time, so I went and stood in line behind him. Loki joined too, followed by the girls. As we got closer to the woman serving the soup I noticed that her face was more deeply lined than any jotun I’d seen previously. She didn’t look old exactly, maybe middle aged. There were laugh lines around her eyes, and her eyes themselves were a brilliant blue that seemed to pierce everyone they landed on.
I leaned forward and whispered to Erik, “Who is that?”
He glanced up, noticed I was staring at her, and smiled, whispering back to me, “That’s Kiera, she’s our oldest living jotun.”
“Wow, how old is she?”
“Nobody knows anymore. She’ll tease you about not asking an old lady her age, but she won’t actually tell you. We lost track ages ago. Safe to say she’s over a thousand years old. Some say she’s a witch. She was the only one the Queen was ever afraid of, so she had to run when Eira tried to have her killed”
My eyes must have been bulging, because Erik laughed, “Well, don’t give her that shell shocked look you’ve got on now, she’ll wonder what’s wrong with you.”
The line was getting closer, and as Kiera poured soup into Erik’s bowl I tried to compose my face into a blank expression. Then it was my turn, and the full weight of the woman’s gaze was on me. It was like my body refused my commands. I told it to smile, I told it to take the bowl from her hands and my lips to form the words “thank you”. None of that happened. I just stayed stuck to the spot.
Then Kiera smiled and lowered her eyes slightly, and the spell was broken, “Here you are, daughter of royalty.”
My fingers curled around the warm wooden surface of the bowl, “Thank you.”
She smiled again, and I moved to step away, only catching the words she mumbled because I turned back to look at her again. Her eyes were shut, “She will divide us and unite us. Shed blood and claim victory…” Then her eyes were open and she was smiling at the next person, ladling soup into their bowl as if she hadn’t just been mumbling to herself.
Puzzled, and a little spooked, I turned and made my way back to the couch. I quickly found myself wedged between Charlotte and Loki. Becca and Margaret were arguing over the efficiency of cars verses horses, and Loki leaned past me several times to join in, firmly in favor of horses. I just ate my soup in silence, letting the sound of clanking dishes, laughter and the crackle of the fire wash over me, thinking about how blue Kiera’s eyes were, wondering how old she was exactly. Over a thousand, that was incredible. How old would I get to be? Erik had said around two hundred, hadn’t he? Or even more than that? Would I still look perfect like the other jotun seemed to? Would I still look like I was in my early twenties, a smooth face and perfect alabaster skin, when I was a hundred? Or would my “half breed” blood cancel that out?
Later, they showed us to our rooms. I was ecstatic when Erik showed us girls up to the loft section, where there were bunk beds lined up against the wall. Marian was already up there, sitting on one of the top bunk beds. She smiled shyly and gave us all a little wave.
“Hi Marian!” I waved back, and then turned to the other girls, “I claim a top bunk!”
“Fine with me,” Charlotte folded her arms over her chest and eyed the top bunks mistrustfully, “I fell out of one of those as a little girl. Broke my arm. It’s isn’t safe you know.”
I put my foot on the bottom rung of the bunk bed ladder, noticing that the wood creaked ominously as I climbed. Charlotte was probably right, but I’d just survived a wolf attack. I wasn’t about to be scared off by a wobbly bunk bed.
“Bathroom is just off to the right here,” Erik pointed, and then turned to descend the staircase out of the loft, “Sweet dreams, girls. Don’t stay up too late, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”
We ended up staying up late anyways. I was tired, but I doubted I’d be able to sleep, and the other girls seemed to be pumped full of adrenaline, probably a reaction of having made it this far and realizing you’re still alive. We all perched in our bunks and talked to one another from there. Margaret, Becca and Stacy were talkative, chattering nonstop, and giggling to one another. Marian listened to the conversation with a smile on her face. Weirdly enough, Charlotte was silent. She was sitting on the bottom bunk with her chin in her hands, staring out at the center of the floor.
A lull came in the conversation and I took the opportunity to ask what was wrong. Charlotte heaved a long sigh, “I just miss Davin.”
Silence for a minute, and then Becca said hesitantly, “Maybe…maybe he’ll come after you.”
Charlotte’s eyes went round, “What if he did…and the wolves got him?”
From bad to worse. I struggled to think of something to say, “Charlotte, I’m sure that wherever he is, he’s fine.”
She looked miserable, “he’s probably still at the palace, walking around wondering why I left.”
Guilt was tugging at my conscience. I’d asked her to come with me. It was my fault, “maybe when this is all over you can find him again.”
Charlotte blinked, “When this is all over…”
She trailed off, and we were all silent. It was like the laughter had been sucked out of the room. When what was all over? The future was so uncertain for us. Here we were, a band of rag tag rebels running from their Queen, running towards an ancient enemy that may kick us out before we can even open our mouths. Or worse, maybe he would kill us all. Even if Surtr agreed to help us fight the Queen, there would still be war. Things looked bleak.
After a while, Stacy changed the subject, her voice light. Trying to take everyone’s minds off the inevitable. We continued talking for a little while, until the conversation starting to trail into sleepy mumbles. I ended up staring up at the wooden logs of the ceiling above me. The thick, grainy beams of wood that kept the house from collapsing on top of me. They weren’t even cut into slabs, they were still logs. I imagined if you went outside, that the green tops of the trees would be sticking up from the roof, blowing in the wind. It was like the jotun had snatched this straight from nature and just molded it into what they needed. I inhaled deeply, noting the smell of pine and cedar, unsure if it was the actual house I smelled, or the wood in the fire downstairs. Gradually the gentle murmur of conversation below us lured me to sleep.
I woke up to the smell of frying bacon the next morning. Breakfast was served around the fire, with Kiera once again doling out the portions onto wooden plates. Our encounter today was much less interesting. She simply scooped me a generous helping of scrambled eggs from the pan, added a few strips of bacon and gave me a smile,
“Next,” she said.
Apparently there would be no weird mumbling today. Not that I was complaining. I picked the couch in the corner again and the girls joined me. Just as we were sitting down, Loki emerged from the hallway, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. His curly hair was tousled and he was squinting around at everything like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“I smell bacon,” he said.
Charlotte pointed at the fireplace, “better get some before it’s all gone.”
It was funny watching him go from sleepy stumbling to almost running to get in line. Apparently Loki liked his bacon. It was funny how quiet the room was, in spite of the fact that there had to be over fifty of us crammed onto the couches and saggy arm chairs. Mostly it was only the noise of forks clattering across wooden plates, one or two people murmuring to one another about how good the food was and the gentle sound of Keira’s voice calling out “next” as she served the breakfast line. Eventually Erik came to the doorway of the room. I guessed he’d been up for a while now, and already eaten breakfast. His hair was neatly combed and washed,
“Alright people, anyone who wants a bath I’m afraid to disappoint you, but there are so many of us that you’ll be washing in the sink. That way it conserves water.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall, an old fashioned looking oak time piece that declared it was just past eight.
“You’ve got two hours, then we’re heading out. There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall, and a bathroom in the loft. And of course as you all know,” he eyed the crowd sharply, “ladies first.”
I grinned. Maybe the jotun being old fashioned wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I turned to Charlotte, “help me wash my hair in the sink? I think I still have wolf drool on me.”
Charlotte made a face, shoving the last of her scrambled eggs in her mouth, “Sure.”
“Oh, me too!” Becca tugged on a strand of her blonde hair, “I get so greasy and limp, it’s gross.”
We stacked up our plates neatly and left them on the side table, running up the stairs to the loft before any of the other women could beat us to the upstairs bathroom. I noticed that Marian followed us up the stairs.
The bathroom was tiny, and all of us barely fit inside. Becca and Stacy were giggling as they bumped into one another. Charlotte leaned into the tiny shower and emerged with a triumphant sound and a bottle of shampoo. “Okay, who’s first?”
I noticed Marian hanging in the doorway. “Hey, Marian. Do you want your hair washed? It’s short, shouldn’t take long.”
She nodded shyly and stepped forward. Margaret said, “I can do it, everyone get in line. My foster mom was a hair dresser so I used to work with her on Saturdays. I’m really fast.”
She was. Marian was in and out of the sink in no time, her short hair freshly scrubbed. She knotted a towel on her head, and the girls teased her, saying she looked like a sheik. She seemed to enjoy the banter, smiling brightly and laughing. I wished there was a way she could communicate with us, so while Margaret was washing Becca’s hair in the sink, I asked her to teach me how to sign.
Marian looked delighted, and we spent a few minutes going over the different hand movements for basic stuff. I learned “yes” and “no” and the sign for bathroom, which made us all giggle like six year olds. Then Charlotte got all mischievous and asked her how to sign swear words. Marian blushed a little, but she was smiling when she taught us all a few choice words.
“Awesome!” Margaret ran her fingers through Stacey’s long blonde hair, rinsing out the remaining suds, “so now we can swear at people and they’ll never know!”
Then it was my turn, and I had to lean forward over the sink and shut my eyes tightly while Margaret ran lukewarm water over my scalp. Her fingers in my hair were confident and practiced, massaging the shampoo in. I would have fallen asleep if I’d been in a more comfortable position and I didn’t have five noisy girls chattering around me. When I finally stood up, Charlotte threw a towel at me, and I knotted it around my head like Marian had. We went back out in the room to sit and talk until Erik called up to us.
“Girls, all ready? We’re heading out."
I leaned down over the railing, and he stared up at me in surprise. I blushed, remembering the towel on my head. “What should we do with the wet towels? Should we make the beds?”
“No don’t worry,” Erik looked like he was trying to stop himself from smiling, “a few are staying behind in case more jotun come through the pass. They’ll clean the entire place up after we leave.”
“Okay,” I ducked backwards, cheeks glowing, pulling the towel off my hair and tying my wet hair back with an elastic, “time to go, girls.”
The rebels walked outside, from the cabin to the parking garage, where there were a number of beat up looking vehicles. Loki was waiting for us there, leaning against the hood of a very old, very green VW van. He looked like he’d won the lottery.
I stopped and stared at the van with wide eyes, “you’re joking me, right?”
Erik scratched his head, looking sheepish, “er, we pretty much get whatever we can. It was free.”
Loki said enthusiastically, “it’s amazing! And it’ll fit lots of people! Who’s driving with us?”
I stared suspiciously at the van. It looked like it would fall apart if you sneezed on it. The paint was peeling off the sides and one tire looked a little saggy. “I don’t know about this.”
Loki pulled the handle and slid the door back, “come on! Get in! Erik’s already called driver side and I’m riding shotgun.”
“How nice,” I grabbed the seat, which was covered in vinyl that looked like it had seen better days, and levered myself up and inside. There were large stains on the floor, and the inside smelled like smoke, “all that's missing is the hippies.”
Charlotte giggled and jumped up behind me, “Dude man, way cool.”
“Such a comedian,” I grumbled, settling my backside on the sticky seat. Margaret, Becca, Stacy and Marian crawled in after us one at a time, looking around with trepidation.
“We can get a few more in,” Erik ushered a few more rebels inside, and they crammed in, squishing me against the door. I peered out the window at the parking garage. The other vehicles were just as run down. There were old pickup trucks and cars that looked as though they’d been in a few accidents in their time. There was even an old ice cream truck. I wondered how on earth they thought this was inconspicuous. Also, how were we going to get there without any of them breaking down? That seemed unlikely.
In front of us the garage door began to slowly creak open. Erik jumped in the driver seat as soon as he was satisfied that all of the rebels were packed into the cars like sardines. Myself, I was squished quite tightly between Charlotte and the window, since there were now about ten of us back here.
The VW van shot forward with a symphony of rattles, coughs and whines. Behind us the exhaust backfired a couple times, the tiny explosions would have made us jump, but we were packed in too tightly to really move.
Loki pumped his fist in the air, “Onwards!”
This was going to be one heck of an interesting ride.