outside_omens | The search for V and C (Reply)

Date: December 31, 1999 Status: Private Setting: Wednesday may be a bastard, but he watches out for his friends

Wednesday x-actoed runes into his hotel desk. “Spineless Bastards,” he said as he drank down a shot of Jack.

Since seeing the Marquis, Wednesday had been putting in some inquiries about Messrs. Vandemar and Croup. Information was not easily found, but Wednesday had connections. Even with the failed American War, he still had enough allies in high places to supply him with essentials.

He had learned a lot from Hel, especially. Loki’s poor daughter, in spite of everything, had always managed to retain her pride and sense of Justice. She had welcomed Wednesday into her domain and told him more than he expected.

“They are difficult adversaries. I do not envy your friend.” The beautiful half of her face was graced with a delicate smile; the other half was covered by harsh grey and black bangs. “I have had some… dealings… with them myself.” In the dark realm of Helheim, Wednesday could see the light fade in her eye.

“An age ago. When you, All-Father, still walked with a staff. When the ausaleiksbarn Lie-Smith still roamed in the Jotland.” The bitterness in her voice made even Wednesday wince. “I sat on my throne, ignored, except for by the cowardly dead.” She looked over his shoulder through the window, and at the ship still under construction. Her voice lowered and she was no longer speaking to Odin. “Oathbreakers and the damned. Those two would fit right in, and I would gladly pull out their fingernails myself.” Wednesday reached over and unclenched her gnarled fist, stroking the withered flesh gently. She flinched at his touch and her one beautiful eye welled with tears. Wednesday continued to pat her hand in spite of her fear. Her voice was still quiet when she again spoke. “I apologize, All-Father. I will continue.”

“In spite of my better judgment, Father, I will tell you the truth. It was I who first summoned them to this place. Their fame stretches far and wide in domains such as mine; the work they do is efficient and painful. I am wary to tell you, but it was for your blood-brother that I summoned them.” Wednesday felt the deep scar in his wrist flare painfully. “Not only for my own existence do I blame him, All-Father. I am resigned to that fate. No. It was for the beautiful one sent to my realm long before his time that I despise my father.”

A tear glinted in the light of gutting flames. “He was so fair, your son. A sun in this dim world. His hair brought the light of a million torches. His eyes were the blue of mountain tarns, not the cesspits of Helheim. You must believe me, All-Father, I would have given him back to you gladly. I would have restored your most beloved son, but, as you and I both know, my father would rather cease than see happiness restored to those he felt had wronged him.”

“But he wronged me first, All-Father. And like father, like daughter. I would have my revenge. Foolishly, I thought I could enlist aid from the two gentlemen you have come to enquire about. My own powers are limited, though, and all the more so against my father, so a third and fourth party were the best way I could think of to hurt him.”

“They are dangerous creatures, All-Father. And treacherous. They have no honor in their word. They are Oathbreakers. Whether it was a bribe from the lie-smith, or for some other reason, I do not know, but no harm ever came to the two-tongued trickster. Yet they still came to take their pay.” She lowered her forehead and raised the hem of her skirts. Instead of one dead limb, there were now two, the flesh mangled and torn in horrific ways on both legs, far surpassing Hel’s original disfigurement. He recognized that the wounds were well-planned, each slice intended to inflict the most possible pain and scarringwhile keeping the victim alive and conscious. It reminded him of the Marquis’ scar. He closed his eyes to block the thoughts.

“I am sure your friend has told you about them as well. From what little I know of their current whereabouts, they are in a dimension that is more difficult to get out of, but I assure you, they will find a way to do so. I no longer fear for myself, but I would suggest watching your friend. I was merely sport for them. I would not wish to be the recipient of their ill feelings.”

She had apologized for not seeing him out. What limited mobility she had had to begin with was now completely gone, she explained. He kissed her withered hand in spite of her horrified look, and had thanked her again for her priceless gifts.

“Take good care of them, All-Father,” she called after him. “Two fine birds such as those are indeed priceless.” He looked back over his shoulder just as he reached the tall gates. Sitting in Hel’s lap was a bowl of water ringed with mistletoe; he could just see the other half of her hideous visage reflecting in the still pool. His breath caught in his lungs, and he turned away quickly.

Wednesday took another shot and got up from his table. Stretching his mind into the back-story, he checked to make sure that the Marquis’ box was still safe. Finding it exactly where he’d placed it, he went back to matters at hand. He had a few more people to question.

But, unbidden, he thought back to his son Baldr, Frigga’s joy. And to Hel, tormented sister to a wolf and a sea-serpent. Two children so different, yet so alike in their agony.

The cold space that Wednesday had long ago banished a human heart from ached miserably.

He would resume his search tomorrow.