“I told her the same thing,” the goddess said. “She brought pictures and videos.”
Baldur rubbed his hands and grinned. “Then we can catch up on what we missed. What does your father like to do? Or should I call him Mr. Jemison? No, he must have a name. Something strong and manly.”
The goddess was trying hard not to laugh. “Jeffrey is his name, dyrr.”
“Then Jeffrey and I must have a chance to enjoy a few games when he visits. Let me show you what I have in mind.” He wedged himself between us and took the goddess’ arm and mine. “So what happened in the Sorting Hall? I heard excited whispers.”
The goddess and I exchanged glances.
“We talked to a few souls,” she said.
“You had a conversation? You? What happened to ‘There’s no time for idle chatter?’”
“It hasn’t changed, but our daughter has a knack for communicating with them. They wanted to touch her.”
Baldur gave a mock shudder. “They are cold.”
“Why aren’t you?” I asked.
“Your mother warms me with her touch and love.” He kissed her cheek and stopped outside a set of stairs. “Here we go.”
We went up the stairs, and my jaw dropped when we reached the top. The setting was like an arena. There were seats on either side of the upstairs hallway, some facing what looked like ice hockey rinks, which were empty. We continued on and came to basketball courts, two of them occupied. The players were brutal with each other, all of them using runes for speed and strength, knocking each other. The boxing area was packed. It had a ring and punching bags. The dojo area had hand-to-hand combat training mats and a hard floor. On the walls were training sticks and swords, which didn’t make sense until I remembered that these people came from different civilizations and some were more comfortable with swords than a basketball.
“Are all these Grimnirs, or are some of them warriors?” I asked.
Baldur chuckled. “These are Grimnirs. Your mother’s warriors are in Corpse Strand. They come out every day to train and then go back. Ragnarok will give them a chance to redeem themselves and earn their freedom, if they survive.”
Corpse Strand was for condemned souls, and Ragnarok was eons away. Not that I felt bad for the criminals, but I glanced at the goddess to see her reaction. She was busy studying one of the Grimnirs with a frown.
“I didn’t set the rules on what criminals and oath-breakers must endure, but I enforce them,” she said, and I wondered if she could read my thoughts. She sighed. “Echo is in one of his moods, dyrr. Do you think you should step in?”
My eyes flew to the men sparring with swords. My heart hurtled to my throat when I recognized Echo. He was wielding two swords and so was his opponent. They rushed each other, swords clanging as they parried left and right and attacked. I didn’t realize I’d moved closer to the glass wall when a blade missed his chest by inches. Why was he fighting without a shirt or runes?
“He’s been like that since the beginning of this week,” Baldur said. “Something is bothering him.” He glanced at the goddess. “Has he talked to you yet?”
“He asked for an audience last week, but I told him to wait. I’m not discussing Grimnir matters until this crisis with Celestia is over.” The goddess smiled when Echo knocked the sword off his opponent’s hand and nicked the man’s neck. “He’ll always be one of my finest fighters even though he abhors violence. It is the Druids’ way,” she added for my benefit.
I was still trying to wrap my head around what she’d said. Echo had asked to talk to her. He must have planned to tell them about us before I arrived in Helheim.
“What is he doing now?” the goddess asked sharply, and my eyes flew to the floor below. Echo was fighting two people.
“I kept hoping whatever was bothering him would pass,” Baldur said. “Maybe you need to talk to him before he hurts someone, dyrr.”
“He’s more likely to get hurt. He’s exhausted and is making mistakes. Look at that. He left himself wide open and would have gotten a blade in his gut. He doesn’t even have his runes on. I don’t know what’s bothering him, but let him exhaust his demons. Eirik would stop this, but this is not the right time to ask our son to referee Grimnirs.”
I didn’t know anything about sword fights, but I could tell when a person fought like a drunken sailor. The goddess was right. Echo was exhausted. I winced when he got nicked on the thigh and then the arm. Even though he was bleeding, he still didn’t engage any of his runes. His opponents backed up while he continued to swing. Thoroughly annoyed, I turned and faced my parents.
“Is it okay if I stop him?”
The goddess traded a look with Baldur and nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” I must have engaged my speed runes, because I cleared those stairs like a sprinter. Through the glass wall, I could see Grimnirs working out, but I couldn’t find the entrance to the damn gym. Luckily, the same two guards who’d stayed with us during the tour had followed me downstairs.
“Where’s the entrance to the gym?” I asked them.
“You passed it back there, young goddess,” one of the guards said.
“Show me.”
We retraced our steps, and I entered the dojo area to find a crowd had formed around the fighters. Echo was still fighting, except his opponent was now Syn, his reaping buddy. I could tell Syn was toying with him, which only seemed to piss off Echo.
The person beside me noticed me first, and his eyes widened.
“Einmyria,” he whispered, but the person next to him overheard him and looked back. They stepped aside to let me pass and tapped on the shoulders of those in front of them. In seconds, I had a path.
“Thanks,” I said and marched forward, too furious to care that they were staring and whispering. Most of them probably knew about me and Echo.
I reached the front of the crowd and waited to catch Echo’s eyes, but instead I caught Syn’s. I shook my head, and he stepped back, ducking to evade Echo’s blade. He dropped and swept his leg under Echo in an attempt to bring him down, but Echo jumped back, almost losing his balance. Yep, he was definitely exhausted. The Echo I knew was graceful. Syn sprung to his feet and joined me.
“I can’t stop him today. He’s been like this since last week and won’t talk about whatever crawled up his ass. I had to snap his neck several times this week. This time, he was expecting it and nearly gutted me.”
“Give me your sword.”
Echo turned to face Syn but found me. I had no idea how to use a sword, but if he needed a target, he had one.
“Cora?” he asked, peering at me.
“Yep, it’s me.” I gripped the sword with both hands and widened my stance. “You want someone to fight, come and get me.”
He frowned. “I’m not going to fight you.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” He glanced around, surprise flickering on his face at the audience. He’d been so caught up in the fight he hadn’t noticed the crowd. “I can’t.”
“Then drop the swords.”
He dropped them and swayed on his feet. I wanted to run to him, hold him, scold him, and kiss him, but I fought the urge and passed the sword back to Syn. He looked puzzled by my behavior. I glanced at Echo, and once again fought the urge to rush to his side.
“Engage healing runes. You are bleeding.”
He glanced down and frowned. He didn’t engage his runes, and concern coursed through me. Did he think the goddess refused him a meeting because she knew about us and didn’t approve? I glanced up at my parents. They waved.
Not caring what they thought, I stepped closer to Echo and looked into his eyes. They looked so tortured my heart cracked and my resolve not to touch him slipped a notch.
“Heal your wounds, Echo.”
“She won’t let me talk to her,” he whispered. “I changed my mind. I was going to tell her everything and surprise you, but she won’t listen to me.”
And being Echo, he’d assumed the worst. Thank goodness his thinking things through phase had passed. He might be impatient and melodramatic, but that was part of his charm.