Sally sat at the computer desk in the combined living/dining/study area of Opal’s fifth floor apartment near Portland State University. She checked the display on her cell phone. 8:32 p.m. And she’d missed three calls from her parents.
Her stomach lurched. Her parents were probably worried sick. And she was supposed to perform a grounding spell—“Nurturing the Seed,” to reinforce and enhance Odin’s Return—in precisely 27 minutes.
Sally was fairly certain that wasn’t going to happen.
“Stop checking the time,” Managarm grumbled from a folding chair on the opposite side of the room, where he sat staring out the window at the Thursday night traffic below. “I told you, if you can just find a healing spell—one that actually works, so I can be rid of this blasted headache—then I can help you with that other business.”
Sally lowered her eyes and looked at the laptop computer in front of her.
“Peppermint, with some honey.” Opal set a cup of hot tea in front of Sally.
Sally took a tentative sip. She’d never had heartburn before—but she’d never aged thirty years in just a few hours before, either. The warmth of the tea spread down into her chest, and Sally sighed in relief. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You know how much I love pizza.”
Pizza boxes spilled off of the particle-board coffee table. They’d already had two deliveries of a total of five pizzas before David the Berserker consumed nearly the full contents of Opal’s pantry and refrigerator.
“You got any chips? Doritos? Pringles? How ‘bout cupcakes?” David sat on the folding futon that doubled as a sofa, and wiped pizza sauce across the front of his shirt. He cackled at an old episode of South Park on the television.
Sally watched him shove most of the last slice of pepperoni and sausage pizza into his mouth and felt her insides burn.
Opal sat down and rubbed Sally’s upper back. “Just keep drinking the tea.”
“What a crap day.” Sally took another sip. A single slice of Hotlips Pizza had left her convinced she was having a heart attack. But it was just indigestion. Embarrassed and upset, Sally held the warm mug close to her chest and inhaled the soothing mint. “Now even pizza betrays me? That’s my favorite food group.”
Sally belched uncomfortably, and David howled with glee. Sally looked over at him and frowned. To her surprise, David froze. He stopped chewing, and he didn’t even bother to swallow as he stared at her, spine erect, awaiting her direction.
Sally waved a dismissive hand in the air, and the Berserker’s attentiveness flooded out of his body in a single breath. He went back to inhaling pizza and watching TV.
“There’s something seriously wrong with that kid,” Opal commented, deliberately loud enough for David to hear.
“Berserker,” Managarm growled, not bothering to turn away from the window. “Get used to it.”
Opal leaned down close to Sally and whispered. “Are you sure it’s safe? Having these guys here?”
Sally looked past her friend to the chuckling Berserker perched on top of the futon and the old god grumbling in the corner.
“I mean, one thinks he’s some kind of deity, and the other is obviously on drugs,” Opal continued. “I know you believe in this stuff, and I’m following your lead here. But are you sure they aren’t just crazy street people?”
Sally shrugged. “Listen.” Sally leaned forward and lowered her voice to match Opal’s. “Running into that girl at the bookstore, the one named after the goddess? That’s not a coincidence. And I know it sounds wild, but that is Managarm! I know it in my bones. And so, okay, a Berserker shows up . . . But doesn’t that prove the spell is working? My magick is working! It’s gone a little hinky, sure, but Managarm says he can help fix it . . .”
Sally looked across the room to study Managarm as he stared at the street below. A thrill of excitement and fear raced down her spine, and Sally held the warm mug tighter. One of the Norse gods, here! And he’s chosen me!
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, her unsettled stomach churned, and her throat burned with a loud pizza belch. She immediately clamped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she murmured through closed fingers.
Opal patted Sally’s shoulder. “It’s no wonder, with all the stress. Who knows how you’re going to react to things now, with this, umm . . .”
“With my new old lady body.” Sally felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes, but she sniffed them back. She’d wasted too much time feeling sorry for herself. She put her tea mug down and squared herself in front of the computer.
“Can you log me into the PSU network?” Sally cleared her throat and raised her voice. “We must commence at once.”
Opal leaned over the laptop to type in the password for her student account. “We must commence at once?” Opal whispered. “Are you kidding me?”
A smirk broke on Sally’s face, and she turned to make sure Managarm wasn’t watching. “I’m trying to sound more official. You know, for him.”
Opal sighed and hit ENTER. “Whatever.”
PSU’s global library network portal came up in the web browser. Opal turned the laptop back to face Sally. “Okay, you’re in. Just don’t do anything to get me in trouble, all right?”
“Okay.” Sally’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “I guess I should start with looking up that book title we found in the PDF . . .”
Opal rubbed her tired eyes and groaned. “Don’t remind me. I think I’m going to need new glasses after trying to speed-read through that thing. Seriously, that wasn’t English. It was all leseferdighet this and antikvitet landområde that.”
Sally smiled at her. “Very good. I think those are actual words.”
“If you say so.” Opal crossed her arms and closed her eyes. “That publisher should think about trying again with a different translator. Maybe if we spoke actual Norwegian . . .”
Sally typed “The Myth and Magick of Freya’s Rune Spells” into the academic search engine, then glanced again at Managarm sitting in the corner.
“He doesn’t look so good.” Sally’s breath caught in her throat. “What if he’s dying!”
Opal cocked her head to one side. “Can gods really die? If he is who he says he is.”
“Mmm.” Sally pressed her lips tight. “It happens. The blind god, Hödr, accidentally killed his brother, Baldr, with the mistletoe spear, and then Baldr’s wife, Nanna, died of grief and threw herself on his funeral pyre . . .”
“Yeah, okay.” Opal waved her off. “You’re making my head hurt.”
Sally scrolled through the search results on the screen. “The point is, the Norse gods aren’t immortal, at least not the way most people think. They need the sacred apples from Iduna’s Grove to restore their powers and long life. But those trees only bear fruit every so often.”
Opal stared at what was left of her kitchen, after David’s latest raid. “Sacred apples, huh? So I guess a banana from Safeway wouldn’t do the trick?”
Sally turned sharply to face Opal. “Come on! It’s not funny. He’s here, and he’s hurt. And I’m . . . well, I’m pretty messed up, too. I need help with this.”
Opal’s face softened. “What can I do?”
Sally grimaced at the seemingly endless list of search results scrolling up the screen. “You can help me plow through this, while I try to figure out a way to help an old god without Iduna’s apples.”
“Sure.” Opal nodded incredulously. “So just an average Thursday night, then.”
Sally threw her another sharp look. Opal shrugged and squinted through her glasses at the computer screen. “Oy. This is going to take all night isn’t it?”
David started howling again in front of the television and punched the sofa cushions in a fit of laughter. The girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“Hang on.” Opal jumped up from her chair and started toward the bedrooms. “I think my roommate left her computer here when she headed home for fall break.”
Sally blinked at the co
mputer screen. Everything was looking fuzzier and fuzzier. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to ignore the wrinkles she could plainly feel under her fingers. “Great. Do I need glasses now, too?”
“You are weary.”
Sally jumped at the sound of Managarm’s voice. She turned her head, expecting him to be standing right next to her, but he remained in his chair on the other side of the room, staring at her.
Her mouth jerked into an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”