Then Echo stiffened.
“Einmyria,” came from the doorway before I could find what caused his reaction. His arm dropped from my shoulder, and he jumped up. His reaction would have annoyed me if my focus weren’t on the new arrival.
A blond man who could be in his mid-to-late forties stood in the doorway. Baldur. He was the spitting image of Eirik, except his hair. Eirik’s was like Chex Mix, a blend of brown and blond. Baldur’s was pure gold, like mine. I glanced at Echo. He nodded encouragingly. Swallowing, I stood on shaky legs.
“You can do this,” Echo whispered. “I believe in you.”
“Father?” I asked, not sure whether to hug him or curtsey.
Baldur laughed and opened his arms. “Yes, Einmyria. I’m your father. Come here, elskr mín.”
He met me halfway across the room. I closed my eyes and inhaled as we hugged. He smelled nice and was warm. I still wasn’t sure how things worked in this realm, but he felt real. I’d inherited his hair color. Why had the Dwarves mentioned my face, nose, and mouth? They looked nothing like his.
I opened my eyes, and my gaze met hers.
The goddess.
My mother.
Chapter 10. Mother
Half of her was covered with black runes, which zipped around. Her hair on that side was white and her eye black. Her other side was porcelain and flawless, and very much familiar. I recognized the arched eyebrow, pert nose, and even the slight upturned lips. I saw the same features whenever I looked in the mirror. Hers were more refined and defined, making me a pale copy of her, but I didn’t care. I saw myself in her.
Her chin went up, the runes on her face moving faster. She was tall with a regal bearing, her green gown clinging to her curves. I had her body type, too. Hips, tiny waist, and some serious boobs. While Baldur had a presence that radiated warmth, she had an aura of cool, calm authority. She was the ruler of this realm and looked it. The scepter with a green crystal at the top and the black cloak all added to her presence.
“Go to her,” Baldur whispered. “She needs to know you’re not scared of her.”
I wasn’t. Echo had helped me take that first, difficult step toward embracing the new me, the daughter of a god. And now my father was asking me to take another. Claim my place as Goddess Hel’s daughter. At least, that was how I saw it. With her, I had a feeling it was going to take a leap of faith. She could very well reject me if the blanket hadn’t convinced her. Those shoulders, that regal bearing, and the way the cloak fell to the floor all said she was the woman in my vision.
I stepped away from Baldur and started toward her, expecting her to close the gap between us or meet me halfway. She didn’t. She stayed on the exact spot, her hand gripping the scepter, eyes searching my face.
A girl already pretended to be me once, so she was probably being cautious. I glanced over my shoulder, and Baldur smiled. Eirik had inherited his personality. My eyes met Echo’s. I saw the love in his eyes even though he was not ready to proclaim it to all the realms. Encouraged by it, I continued walking toward my biological mother.
I stopped an arm’s length away and studied her, my heart racing. I knew it was up to me to break the silence, and I planned to do it my way. She could either laugh in my face, or accept me.
“For years, I’d stare at my reflection and wonder why I didn’t look like my parents. I thought I was a changeling, a throwback to their parents or grandparents, except my hair. Mine is more golden than Mom’s, but I chalked that up to old age. I insisted there were some similarities where there were none. Now I know why I look nothing like them.”
“Why?” the goddess asked, her voice deep and commanding, nothing like Mom’s.
“I inherited everything from you. Well, almost everything. I have your eyebrows,” I said.
Hers shot up. “Really?”
Man, if I had zero confidence, that one question would have floored me. But I could hear my mother’s voice telling me how the goddess had mourned me and loved me all these years. I was counting on that love even though my chest hurt and my stomach had a huge knot in it.
“Really,” I said, lifting my chin, trying to imitate her regal bearing. I tapped the edges of my eyebrows. “I pluck the areas closer to my nose because I like to be flawless, but yours show me I should leave them alone.”
Her lips twitched. “Anything else?”
“Our noses turn upward just a little.” I grinned. “I think it’s cute.”
“Me too,” she said, one blue eye twinkling, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the runes on the other cheek were slowing down.
“I got your lips, too, though yours are more defined. Side by side, a blind person could tell I’m your daughter. You know, just in case you were thinking I’m an imposter. Although, I think the blanket must have removed whatever doubts you might have had.”
Her lips twitched again.
“I’ve also been told I’m stubborn, opinionated, and driven. I hope I can thank you or blame you for some of those.”
Her blue eyes grew teary. “If I’d known you were alive, Einmyria, I would have done everything to find you and bring you home. I would have sent every reaper to scour Midgard the way I did with Eirik.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
“Don’t cry.” Tears rushed to my eyes. “Please.”
I wasn’t sure who moved first, but I was finally in her arms. One hand pressed the back of my head to her chest as she hugged me close. My arms tightened around her. Something fell with a thud, and I knew she’d dropped her scepter.
“Welcome home, Daughter.” Her voice shook. “To hold you in my arms again, feel your breath, and hear your heartbeat is more than I ever hoped for. Dreamed of. My baby is home.”
And the dam broke. Mine.
It was a while before she leaned back and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks with a scented handkerchief, the gesture gentle.
“Look at you. You are everything I’d hoped for in a daughter. You are beautiful and poised, and yes, elskr mín, you get your stubbornness from me. Opinionated is just an impolite way of saying you refuse to be silenced because you have something important to say.” She palmed my cheeks and pressed a kiss on my forehead. “As for being driven, that’s something fostered. So you’ll have to thank your parents in Midgard for that. I’d love to meet them and thank them for everything they’ve done for you.”
She just called Mom and Dad my parents. The second surge of tears started. “They’d love that, too.”
“We’ll discuss it later. Right now, I want to look at you and know everything about you. It’s okay to call you Einmyria or should I call you Cora?”
“Einmyria is perfect. It’s a beautiful name.”
“I chose it. It means ashes. How long can you stay?”
“For as long as you want me to.” I glanced over my shoulder at where Eirik was keeping vigil. Baldur had joined him while Echo had disappeared. I focused on Eirik. “How’s he doing?”
“Terribly. He’s not eating or sleeping well. He hasn’t exercised in days, and he needs to fly or he becomes impossible to deal with. Let me hold you one more time.” She hugged me again. My eyes met Baldur, who watched us with a broad grin. When the goddess leaned back, she put an arm around my shoulder and lifted her hand. The scepter flew from the floor, returning to her.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
“Magic. I have so much to learn about you and to teach you. How did you know I took your baby blanket? You were not there when I visited.” She led me to the dining room and pulled out a chair. She sat and indicated the adjacent one, watching me intently. “And when I returned it, you were fast asleep.”
“I saw you in a vision,” I said, maybe to make her proud of my ability or because I didn’t want to hide anything from her. I was sure she knew about Echo and me anyway.