It seems somehow . . . more personal.” Heimdall’s eyes flicked toward me, the barest movement, but the suggestion was clear—he thought the dog had something to do with me. Something to do with Desi.
“Well, what do you propose to do about . . . this dog?” Odin asked, the slightest hint of frustration cutting into his voice.
“Is the emissary from Alfheim still here?”
“Yes. He is taking his repose. He is to be undisturbed.” Odin’s tone suggested he was not about to rouse the Alfahr so he could talk to a dog.
Frustration oozed from Heimdall’s countenance. He closed his eyes—I knew that look; it was Heimdall counting to ten before speaking, fighting to compose a more diplomatic response than the one he likely wanted to give. “I understand, great king. But perhaps . . .” Heimdall let his words trail away, his eyes fixed on something beyond the dome of light.
I followed his line of sight and watched as a tall, slender man of unrivaled beauty came into view. He nodded once before stepping through the barrier that separated us. A barrier that should have been impenetrable.
“You are in need of me?” the man asked, looking at each of us. His unnaturally pale skin radiated a pearlescent light as if lit from within, and when his gaze met mine, the silvery-blue hue of his large eyes took my breath away.
“My apologies, li’Morl. It was not my intention to disturb you,” Odin said.
“Your apologies are unnecessary, Lord Odin, for you did not disturb my repose. But do you mean to say I am mistaken? You do not have need of my gifts?”
Heimdall cleared his throat, but it was Odin who responded in an even tone. “We do have need of you, if you are willing.”
li’Morl smiled, a warm, radiant expression that reached into my soul, bathing my senses in warmth. I felt myself relax, my worries ease—and the Alfahr had not even looked directly at me.
“Of course I am willing,” li’Morl said. “What is it you would ask of me?”
“There is a dog on the Bifrost, before the Door to Muspelheim,” Heimdall said.
“Ah yes, I am familiar with the place.” li’Morl straightened the lapel of his jacket and looked upward, as if seeing a vision above his head. “They make the most remarkable horseshoes there—did you know their shoes are the only ones our sh’lil will wear? You might not imagine that the giant Muspellarians could create anything so fine and delicate as the glass shoes the sh’lil prefer—yet they do. It is the strangest thing.” li’Morl chuckled and my ears tingled as though a chime had been rung.
He glanced around at us, making my knees quiver when his gaze fell on me. It seemed he looked for a beat too long, that he peered into my very soul. Something flickered behind his eyes, but the moment passed before I could name what it was I saw.
“But of course you have no interest in the sh’lil’s preference for the glass shoes. You say there is a dog on the Bifrost? How interesting. How, exactly, may I be of service?”
Heimdall cleared his throat, the sound like a rock slide grating against my ears, a stark contrast to the Alfahr’s musical voice. “It was my hope that you could communicate with this dog, as I feel it is an emissary of some kind.”
“An emissary from the lost girl, I presume?”
His words hit me like a physical punch to my gut. “What do you know of Desi—of the lost girl?” I blurted out before I could restrain myself.
li’Morl looked at me once again and I wished he would look somewhere else. His scrutiny was more than I could bear. It felt like he saw right through me and straight into the part of me I wished to keep secret—even from myself. . “Why, I know precious little,” he said, though I had the distinct impression he knew more than he let on. “I do know you cherish her. I know she has walked a path no one in all the nine worlds could walk. I know she has defied Loki and his plans to lay waste to Midgard.”
I sighed,
“Well, what do you propose to do about . . . this dog?” Odin asked, the slightest hint of frustration cutting into his voice.
“Is the emissary from Alfheim still here?”
“Yes. He is taking his repose. He is to be undisturbed.” Odin’s tone suggested he was not about to rouse the Alfahr so he could talk to a dog.
Frustration oozed from Heimdall’s countenance. He closed his eyes—I knew that look; it was Heimdall counting to ten before speaking, fighting to compose a more diplomatic response than the one he likely wanted to give. “I understand, great king. But perhaps . . .” Heimdall let his words trail away, his eyes fixed on something beyond the dome of light.
I followed his line of sight and watched as a tall, slender man of unrivaled beauty came into view. He nodded once before stepping through the barrier that separated us. A barrier that should have been impenetrable.
“You are in need of me?” the man asked, looking at each of us. His unnaturally pale skin radiated a pearlescent light as if lit from within, and when his gaze met mine, the silvery-blue hue of his large eyes took my breath away.
“My apologies, li’Morl. It was not my intention to disturb you,” Odin said.
“Your apologies are unnecessary, Lord Odin, for you did not disturb my repose. But do you mean to say I am mistaken? You do not have need of my gifts?”
Heimdall cleared his throat, but it was Odin who responded in an even tone. “We do have need of you, if you are willing.”
li’Morl smiled, a warm, radiant expression that reached into my soul, bathing my senses in warmth. I felt myself relax, my worries ease—and the Alfahr had not even looked directly at me.
“Of course I am willing,” li’Morl said. “What is it you would ask of me?”
“There is a dog on the Bifrost, before the Door to Muspelheim,” Heimdall said.
“Ah yes, I am familiar with the place.” li’Morl straightened the lapel of his jacket and looked upward, as if seeing a vision above his head. “They make the most remarkable horseshoes there—did you know their shoes are the only ones our sh’lil will wear? You might not imagine that the giant Muspellarians could create anything so fine and delicate as the glass shoes the sh’lil prefer—yet they do. It is the strangest thing.” li’Morl chuckled and my ears tingled as though a chime had been rung.
He glanced around at us, making my knees quiver when his gaze fell on me. It seemed he looked for a beat too long, that he peered into my very soul. Something flickered behind his eyes, but the moment passed before I could name what it was I saw.
“But of course you have no interest in the sh’lil’s preference for the glass shoes. You say there is a dog on the Bifrost? How interesting. How, exactly, may I be of service?”
Heimdall cleared his throat, the sound like a rock slide grating against my ears, a stark contrast to the Alfahr’s musical voice. “It was my hope that you could communicate with this dog, as I feel it is an emissary of some kind.”
“An emissary from the lost girl, I presume?”
His words hit me like a physical punch to my gut. “What do you know of Desi—of the lost girl?” I blurted out before I could restrain myself.
li’Morl looked at me once again and I wished he would look somewhere else. His scrutiny was more than I could bear. It felt like he saw right through me and straight into the part of me I wished to keep secret—even from myself. . “Why, I know precious little,” he said, though I had the distinct impression he knew more than he let on. “I do know you cherish her. I know she has walked a path no one in all the nine worlds could walk. I know she has defied Loki and his plans to lay waste to Midgard.”
I sighed,