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ASH

In the end, Johan comforted Beatrice.

Ash’s love for her made her distress too disturbing for him to help her navigate her feelings. Ginger, the Norns and Artemis each tried to talk to her, but none could reach through her grief.

Johan told Ash it was like watching his sister Elsa’s grief over his permanently winged left side all over again. He recognized Beatrice’s horror at what to her was a sacrificial maiming, a disability as shocking and unnatural as an amputation.

“I know my sister still grieves and blames herself for not finishing my nettle shirt,” he told Ash. “I would give everything I possess to make her understand how full and beautiful my life is because I still have a wing. Elsa thinks of it as a disability. I think of it as a gift. My only regret is her inability to believe that.”

Dull and uncaring, hardly appearing to notice whether she was alone or not, Beatrice made no demur when Johan came to find her every day. When he took a black swan’s shape, she nestled among his feathers as he floated on the Well of Urd or flew. He did not dive with her, as she couldn’t swim, but he told her about the world under the well’s surface, the creatures living in each layer, the plants and mosses and ferns growing in the enclosing stone walls, and the sacred well’s infinite depths where Yggdrasil’s gnarled roots bathed and drank.

Flying was no novelty for Beatrice, but she had not flown much in daylight, and Johan took her on long explorations of the land and forest around Yggdrasil, speaking to her about air currents and introducing her to the creatures he shared the skies with, exultant in his strength, his powerful wings, and his proud maleness as Ginger’s lover.

Other days, he perched her on the rim of his ear and they walked together, striking out in one direction or another or repeating the airy spiral circles they’d made on the ground, always keeping within sight of Yggdrasil.

The Norns, Ginger, Ash and Mirmir went about their daily activities, the Norns engaged with their endless spinning, Mirmir busy exchanging news with ravens and crows, Ginger making herself useful in the house and garden, and each of them spending time sitting with Gwelda among Yggdrasil’s roots. Artemis was often absent during the days, but returned to Yggdrasil in the evenings.

Ash slept fitfully during the daylight hours, disturbed by his memory of Yggdrasil’s song and Beatrice’s withdrawal. He liked the dim cavern where Gwelda lay and often roosted there, close to the giantess, who neither slept nor appeared quite awake. Her breathing was like the sound of the sea, or Yggdrasil’s breath.

When he sensed the day above waning, Ash roused himself and flew out of the cavern and into the insect-swirled dusk to feed and talk with the others. Johan always waited for him, relaying where he and Beatrice had been and what they had seen and talked about.

One fine evening, as he emerged, he found everyone grouped under Yggdrasil’s boughs, waiting for him. Artemis cupped Beatrice in her hand, and when Ash appeared she requested to be carried to him so she could nestle in her usual place on the back of his neck. He greeted her lovingly but refrained from becoming too emotional, though it gave him a lump in his throat to feel her slight weight again.

“What’s up?” he asked the others.

“A group of Dwarves came to the portal today,” said Verdani. “I asked them to stay, but they refused. They were on their way to a marble game between Slate and some mysterious opponent who is neither Dvorg, Dwarve, nor abovegrounder. They’re playing for the dam blocking the River Styx.”

“Charon!” Ash exclaimed.

“The game is to take place tomorrow night in Offrir Cave, where we danced,” said Ginger. “The Dwarves told Verdani word of the game has gone out everywhere and Dwarves are returning to Dvorgdom to watch. Mirmir wants to go,” she looked up and Ash noticed Mirmir’s flat head hanging down from an overhead branch for the first time, “but if the Dwarves are going, we assume many Dvorgs and others will also be converging on the cave, and he’s too big.”

“We’ll go, won’t we, Ash?” Beatrice said in her thin voice.

Ash’s heart lightened and swelled with love. “Of course we’ll go,” he assured her, and then, more loudly, “Bea and I will go and watch and come back and tell you about it.”

Everyone relaxed and smiled, and Ash realized Bea’s grief had affected all of them. Filled with love for them, he said gruffly, “As soon as I’ve eaten, we’ll go find Rumpelstiltskin. Persephone and Hades are probably with him. I’ll bet they’re pleased!”

***

When Ash and Bea entered Offrir Cave, they saw bats hanging in clusters from the ceiling like velvety grey and brown fruit, and fire salamanders filled every crack and crevice in the walls. Rumpelstiltskin, Hades, Persephone, Pele, and Poseidon sat near a fire, along with a wizened old man Ash recognized as Charon.

Beatrice had asked Ash to tell the others about Gwelda’s climb up Yggdrasil and subsequent events. She greeted the others, but stayed with Ash and took little part in the conversation.

Ash was nothing loathe. “We want to hear your news,” he told the group importantly, “but we have news as well.”

“By all means,” said Hades, smiling into his thick black beard. His smile was soon replaced with a look of wonder as Ash recounted their journey up Yggdrasil and its song, followed by the Firebird’s appearance and its flight with Gwelda down to the roots of the Tree of Life.

Of his own experience, Ash said little, only touching lightly on the power and mystery of what he heard and how it had moved him before continuing with the Beltane ritual he’d witnessed and the coming together of Johan and Ginger, which surprised neither Rumpelstiltskin nor Persephone, who had witnessed their first meeting.

Glossing over Beatrice’s role, Ash described the underground cavern where Gwelda lay, having chosen to unite with the Yrtym and provide an interface.

“Jan would be proud of her,” said Persephone, and Ash saw wetness gleaming on her cheek.

“We heard about the marble game from some Dwarves who came to use Yggdrasil’s portal,” said Bea, rather abruptly. “It’s tomorrow night?”

“It is,” replied Hades.

“The tunnels are seething,” said Ash. “I’m glad we could fly above most of the crowd.”

“We’re not letting anyone except bats and fire salamanders in until tomorrow morning,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

“What about Slate?”

“Oh, he’s coming. The salamanders tell us he’s visited one of his secret storerooms, probably to retrieve his best marbles. He’ll want to put on a show.”

“Everyone’s trying to figure out who the challenger is,” said Ash.

They looked at Charon, who stared steadily into the fire, working his toothless mouth. An evil trickle of foul smoke issued from a blackened pipe cupped in his hand. Ash had never seen anyone who looked less like a champion.

PERSEPHONE

“It’s your party, my dear,” said Poseidon to Pele.

Persephone glanced around at the odd group. She had guided Hades and Charon to Offrir Cave. She couldn’t remember having ever left the Underworld at the same time as Hades. It felt strange, and rather exciting, to be away from the Land of the Dead together, like any normal couple. It was even stranger seeing Charon in these surroundings. She couldn’t imagine the gateway to Hades without him, and he had never, to her knowledge, been anywhere else. Yet here he was, pipe clenched between his gums, wordless, expressionless. He had stumped tirelessly along the Dvorgs’ tunnels, his deep-set gaze flickering from side to side and ceiling to floor, as Hades exclaimed in interest and wonder and Persephone acted as tour guide.

Several fire salamanders escorted them, but Persephone could not differentiate the creatures, and so did not know if some of their companions followed all the way from Charon’s forge. They frisked around his dour figure like puppies, perched on his shoulders or climbing into his lap at every opportunity. He ignored them completely.

They had found Rumpelstiltskin, Pele, and Poseidon in Offrir cavern. A few minutes later, Ash and Bea had arrived. After an exchange of news, all eyes turned to Pele.

“We’ll need a larger space,” Rumpelstiltskin remarked.

“I agree,” said Pele. “I propose extending the cave into the tunnels there and there.” She pointed. “It will make a mess and a lot of dust, but I’ve opened up the entrance above. Rumpelstiltskin will help. The rest of you should go up for a few minutes while we work, and then we can talk about what comes next.”

The fire salamanders did not venture aboveground, but huddled together on the other side of the cavern from Pele. A cluster of bats hung above them, but Ash and Bea followed the others.

Charon climbed after Persephone and Hades out onto the volcanic mountain’s flanks. He looked like an animated mummy in the sunshine. His eyes disappeared in the seams of his face as he squinted in the strong light. Persephone wondered how long it had been since he’d stood under the sun.

The old man looked out across the sweeping beach and bay, his gaze traveling along the slope of the mountain to the jungle fringe clothing its sides. He made no comment and his face remained inscrutable. Persephone wondered what was in his mind.

The ground rumbled and a cloud of dust puffed out from inside the cave.

Charon left his contemplation of the view and climbed back down into the cave with surprising agility. No one tried to stop him. Hades gave Persephone a wry grin and a small shake of his head.

After several minutes of tremors, noise and dust, Rumpelstiltskin gave the all clear. When they returned to Offrir Cave, Pele had doubled the space and added two large alcoves to hold spectators. Stones and rubble stacked against the cave walls in rough descending order provided raised seating for spectators.

“I’ll watch from here,” Pele said, indicating the rift in the floor from which she emerged the first time Persephone had seen her. “The game will take place here.” She indicated a smooth expanse of stone floor, slightly elevated, near the rift. “Fire salamanders will light the cave and the playing surface, but keep the rift shadowed. No one will notice me until I’m ready to reveal myself.”

“We’ve spread the word among the bats as well as the salamanders,” said Ash.

“How many will come?” asked Pele.

“Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands,” said Ash. “How many bats and fire salamanders live in Dvorgdom?”

“Good work,” said Pele. “Thank you.” She smiled at Ash, her teeth white in her dark face.

Ash’s small face wrinkled with delight. “You’re welcome, Lady,” he said with dignity.

Pele turned to Rumpelstiltskin. “How many Dvorgs will come?”

“As many as get the word and can travel here in time,” the Dwarve replied. “Some will come to support Slate. Some have heard a rumor you will be present, Lady, and they hope to confirm your existence for once and for all. Many come to uphold the Dvorg’s honor, though they feel no love for Slate.”

“Patriots,” said Pele.

“Yes. To their way of thinking, all gems and minerals belong to them and Slate’s skill at marbles is a vehicle for reclaiming lost and stolen treasure. Rumors about Slate’s opponent are flying, but nobody knows who it is.”

“Rumors can be useful,” said Poseidon dryly.

“Indeed,” said Rumpelstiltskin, straight faced. “In this case, the rumor is the opponent is neither Dvorg nor Dwarve nor abovegrounder. It’s a riddle no one can solve. Even a phlegmatic Dvorg has some measure of curiosity.”

“What about Dwarves?” asked Pele.

“We’ve spread the word as far and wide as we can. The Dwarves, unlike the Dvorgs, know what’s at stake. They’ll come.”

“We’ll have as many spectators as this place can hold,” said Hades.

“Good,” said Pele. “The more, the better.” She turned to Persephone.

“You must stay hidden,” she said apologetically.

“I know,” Persephone agreed. “I’m a dirty, nasty, dangerous female.”

Hades grinned and took her hand. Poseidon raised her other hand to his lips with an exaggeratedly courtly gesture.

“I’ll watch with you,” Hades told Persephone.

“We’ve made a place for you here,” said Rumpelstiltskin, indicating two large rock slabs leaning against the wall. “You can sit on this stone, and look out this slit. The fire salamanders will leave this niche shadowed. The Dvorgs won’t know you’re here.”

“I’m not hiding, not being a dirty, nasty, dangerous female,” said Poseidon. “I’m staying near Charon in case he needs a coach.”

Charon spat contemptuously, but with great accuracy and well away from Poseidon’s feet.

Poseidon chuckled.

Buy me a cup of tea!

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