I take a step backward and turn toward the root that must be from Yggdrasil, which is the giant tree in Norse mythology that connects the nine worlds. One of the worlds is here, Nifl-heim, a land of harsh cold and fog. The branches on this side are actually the root system that holds up the mythological tree on the earth side. Although, you’d think that someone on earth would notice a magical, massive tree. Maybe it’s glamoured. The branches on the Hel side snake through the forest, many feet above the ground. Extensions of it shoot off every so often. A stream runs on the ground directly under the branch, somehow not frozen like everything else, somehow moving. It makes no sense, but it’s so real. Giant bite marks mar the tree.
Hel reaches up and gestures toward one of the marks with her hand. “A giant worm did that.”
“Níðhöggr.”
She smiles. “You have been studying.”
“My friend Devyn does most of the research,” I say. “Obviously not quite enough research or I might have known about the whole ‘freezing us’ thing.”
“So you know about me then?” She twists her hands together and waits for me to answer. She’s so huge and intimidating, much more so than the gods at Valhalla. Still, even though she’s just frozen my friends, there’s something I like about her, something more interesting than Odin and Thor and the others.
I pause for a second, trying to figure out what to say. I stomp around in place, trying to stay warm, and finally say, “Only what I have heard.”
“Which is …” Her gaze widens.
I finish her sentence for her as the wind howls around us. “That you rule here. That you have huge mansions. You are the daughter of Loki and Angrboða; the wolf Fenrir and the serpent Jörmungandr are your brothers. You serve a dish called ‘Hunger,’ sleep on a bed called ‘Sick Bed,’ and wield a knife called ‘Famine.’ Although that sounds kind of hokey to me … all that stuff. You are waiting for the world to end. So why?” I ask her. “Why do they want the world to end?”
“You don’t think it’s just because it has been prophesized?” Her eyes gleam.
“Nope.” I cross my arms over my chest, shivering. I check out Astley and the others, frozen in midmotion. I wonder if they can hear us, see us. I wonder if they are cold too.
She snaps her fingers and dwarves run at me with giant furs; before I can move they’ve dropped them and wrapped them around me. “Thank you. But my friends.”
“Are fine, I promise you.” She smiles and it’s both beautiful and grotesque, depending on which side of her mouth you’re looking at. “You are the only one unprotected right now and if you die from cold, then you would end up with me forever. I don’t think you’d like that. Not now. There is so much intention in you yet, so much you want to do, to save.”
Staring at her, I try to figure out what she’s getting at. She seems … sad? But who wouldn’t be if they were banished down here? The whole act of being banished seems sadness inducing.
I attempt to calm my shivering and say, “I honestly don’t think it would be that bad to be here, except for the cold.”
She squats down in front of me. “Do you know why that is?”
I don’t answer. She whistles. A carriage, deep red and pulled by giant frost-covered elephants, trundles toward us through the trees of ice. Icicles hang from the reins that connect the elephants to the sled.
“It is warm within the mansions of Hel.” She reaches out her hand for me to take. And she must see my hesitation because she chuckles. “Do not worry. It is not the flaming hellfire your culture speaks of. You will see.”
I take her hand even though it’s the decaying one and try not to vomit from the way her naked bone feels beneath my fingers. Instead, I focus on the side of her face that is whole.
“See?” she says as she helps me into the sled. “This is why you are chosen. Not because of who your father is, not because you turned pixie queen. It is because you choose to look beyond the ugly. You choose to see the good even in monsters, Zara White. That is why you are different. That is why you are important.”
She puts more blankets over my legs and tucks them in beneath me before stepping in. “Bring us to Hel,” she tells the driver, a woman with black, frost-covered hair. The elephants snort and then move forward through the snow and ice. Hel turns to me, brings my face close, and breathes upon my skin to warm it up, the way a mother would.
“Sometimes the monsters are not monsters,” she says.
“I know.” I nod. “And sometimes the monsters are within us all, even in those we think are the most good.”
“You are shivering too much. Do not talk until we get to Hel and you are warmed.”
And so I don’t. We rush through the fog. It slaps at my cheeks like tiny pellets of ice, stinging the skin. I don’t see any animals other than the elephants. I don’t see any life, including any sign of giant worms. Thinking about Astley and the others, I say a tiny, silent prayer that Hel was not lying and that they are indeed safe.
She touches my arm through the blankets. “What is wrong?”
“My friends.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment and we crest a hill, revealing huge, amazing mansions that gleam almost golden, dotting the landscape, shining with the suggestion of warmth. They remind me of French chateaus that kings used to visit, bringing their entire retinue.
“Hel is beautiful,” I gasp.
She smiles, revealing gums and teeth. “I will send for your friends, Zara. But if they become threats to my people, I will freeze them again. Understand?”
My heart beats a bit warmer even though the temperature hasn’t changed. “I understand.”
Hel has many mansions, each beautiful and elaborate and full of beings, but not so full that they are crowded. Tigers and bears stroll alongside each other, apparently peaceful. Old men lounge by fireplaces reading. Young women smoke cigars by the stairs. People wear modern clothes, ancient clothes. Some are missing flesh, like they were bitten by something. Some have marks from their illnesses upon their cheeks. But their eyes are lively and they seem content. I could stare and stare at them, I think.
“Not what you were expecting?” Hel ushers me through the front hall and into a long room full of mirrors. Gold trim glistens along the edges of the ceiling. A fire roars in a white marble hearth.