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The Samhain Gate

11/17/2008

There were absolutely no windows in the bathroom.

Iris walked back out to the table slowly, wondering where to go from here. She could run, she could scream, or she could go visit the land of Norse gods. Thor was waiting for her at the table, placidly draining the last beer in the 12-pack she’d bought. He set the bottle down next to her nearly untouched plate.

“This isn’t bad for a domestic, but the mead down here is terrible. Are you ready to get going?”

This was it, run, scream, or Valhalla. She sat down, “Look, you’re really nice for being, y’know, a deity and all, but I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed, tossed the empty bottle back into the box, and leaned forward on the table, “You don’t really have a choice you know. The Allfather wants to see you, so, I’m going to bring you to him. One way or the other. You weren’t exactly my first choice either, but I’m stuck with you.” He stood up, dug in his pockets, and tossed a tiny gold coin on the table. “Will that cover it? I’m not familiar with conversion rates.” Iris guessed if the coin was real gold it was probably worth more than the waitress made in a week. Iris wasn’t sure what to do now, she glanced around the restaurant, it was mostly empty, and there was no one there big enough to risk messing with Thor. No one was going to help her. Iris stayed in the chair, pretending to pick at her food with one hand and eased her other hand into her purse, feeling for the mace. She got a good grip on in, her stomach clenching, and pretended to drink her cup of coffee.

Iris threw the coffee mug as hard as she could in the general direction of his face, pushed herself out of the chair with enough force to make it tip over, raised the mace and emptied the can in his general direction. She was running for the door before the can was empty.

She was still running when she realized she wasn’t moving anymore. She looked down and saw she’d was a foot off the floor. The pains drilling in to the base of her skull make her realize that Thor had grabbed her. A single hand encircled her neck. Unable to do anything else, Iris screamed, clawing at the back of her neck. He brought her face-to-face with him. The look he gave her made her go limp. Quite calmly, without putting her dawn, he reached across the table and pulled a few napkins out of the holder. He wiped the remnants of coffee and mace off his face. If she survived, Iris was going to write an extremely angry letter to the manufacturers of that mace. It was obviously defective.

“That really stings!” His hand tightened on the back of her neck, hitting pressure points against her skull. Iris whimpered; her voice wasn’t working.

“You are so lucky you’re a woman.” His voice was even, but there was a barely controlled rage under the surface. The look in his eyes terrified Iris more. “If you were a man, you’d be dead. If the Allfather wasn’t interested in you, you’d be dead. If you do that again, you will be dead.” With a final squeeze on her neck, he let go, and she collapsed onto the floor. Iris’ whole body shook she gasped for breath. Why hadn’t anyone tried to stop him? She looked around the restaurant, hoping someone might be willing to help.

No one was moving. Her mouth dropped as Iris registered the absolute stillness of the restaurant. Everyone was stopped in mid-motion, fork halfway to mouth, coffee in a motionless stream from pot to cup. She stopped, transfixed by the steam frozen in mid-air. The light reflected from a coin stopped in mid-air blinded her for a moment.

“What. . .?” She tried to get up but her legs wouldn’t support her.

“I’ve just stepped us out of time for a moment. Now do you believe me?”

She tried again and managed to stand up, “This is not real. This cannot be happening.” Iris hung on to the edge of the table for support. Her mind refused to process what was happening.

“Would you calm down, please! This is happening. I really am Thor, and we are going to Asgard, whether you like it or not! So move your ass!” Iris looked at him and realized his clothes had changed. He’d been wearing standard jeans and t-shirt before. Now he was wearing a tunic and leggings with the hammer hanging from a broad leather belt opposite of which a pouch hung. A heavy torc of twisted gold was around his neck.

“Now, are you coming quietly, or do I have to carry you?” There was barely concealed malice in his voice.

Iris did not want him putting his hands on her again. She let go of the table and managed to remain upright.

He smiled like a razorblade, “That’s a good girl. My team is out front.”

She followed in a daze, looking around at everything caught in perfect stillness, like a bad movie effect.

“Don’t worry; they won’t even notice the difference once we’re gone.”

They emerged into the sunlight and where her car had been was now a two-wheeled chariot, harnessed to two large goats. At least, Iris supposed it was a chariot. Although tank would have been a better word. It was open on the top and on only two wheels, but it was large and heavily built. She wondered how only a pair of goats could pull it.

“Ah, my good boys, right on time!” Thor petted each of the animals, scratching between the horns and down the flank. He looked over at her, “My team, Gniost and Grisnir.” Iris was afraid to ask, but needed to know,

“What happened to my car?”

“I had them pull it back to your apartment. Get in.”

He stepped into the vehicle and gathered the reins with one hand. With the other, he helped her in. It was actually quite spacious and there was even a bench for her to sit on, running along one wall.

“Sit.”

She sat, putting her purse down next to her.

“Sleep.” He flicked her forehead with two fingers. Iris was dimly aware of her head hitting the bench as she lost consciousness.

* * *

A jolt roused Iris out of vague, half-remembered dreams. They had stopped moving, and her legs had cramped from being curled up on the bench. She started to stretch, but stopped mid-motion when she heard the voices.

“I heard you screwed up, but this is impressive.”

“Don’t push me, Heimdall. I’m not in the mood for it.” That was definitely Thor. Iris wondered who the other voice was.

“You have to admit, this is really amusing.” He sighed and Iris could imagine him shaking his head, “I just hope the Allfather finds it so.”

“Just don’t.”

She could hear the two men—gods? Iris wasn’t sure of anything at this point—moving, and imagined Thor had gone for his hammer.

“All right! All right! You don’t have to be in such a snit. Put it down, Thor. You kill me and the Allfather will really get pissed.”

“Laugh now, Heimdall, while you can. You know I always get mine.”

“Maybe, but I’ll always see you coming. Now, go on, the Allfather’s already been waiting. Why’d you put her to sleep, anyway?” Iris curled back up and tried to look like she was sleeping as they walked back towards the conveyance.

Thor sighed and stepped back into the chariot, “I didn’t want to put up with the twit having hysterics on the way here.”

“I wish you luck, my friend, I truly do.” There was a snap of leather, and the chariot began moving again.

Iris jumped as Thor kicked the bench she was lying on, “Wake up, we’re almost there.”

She blinked, sat up and stretched. The walls of the chariot were low enough she could see out without standing up. They were traveling along a broad dirt road, and spread out all around them was green, green pastureland. Iris twisted around and looked behind them. There was the most beautiful rainbow she’d ever seen, coming right now to the ground where the road began. Next to, it was a large wooden building with a thatched roof. A figure was visible sitting on the porch, watching the distance. Beyond the building and the road was nothing but the sea, sparkling in the sun and almost perfectly flat. Where was she?

There were several other buildings visible in the distance, on rises on the ground, or, farther on, on cliffs. They were making quite good time, better than one would expect from goats pulling such a large, heavy conveyance. The terrain grew rougher, but the road was still smooth and open. The road branched off in places, but Thor kept driving straight on. The buildings grew larger, and Iris could see they were more halls like the one overlooking the sea. The road forked and Thor stopped the chariot, and looked at the sky, “It’s early yet,” he said, more to himself than her, “He won’t be at Valhalla yet.” He snapped the reins and took the left fork.

“Um, excuse me?” She cringed a little when he looked at her.

“What?”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re a little slow, aren’t you girl? We’re going to see the Allfather. It’s early yet, so he’ll be at his Hall of Valaskialf.” He sighed, “You’re lucky I’m almost rid of you. Or we’d be having trouble.”

Get rid of me? If he was going to hand her off, who was going to take her? And where? And why? The last question was the most terrifying. She could think of many things someone might want her for none of them were pleasant.

“There it is, girl.” She sat up and was momentarily blinded by the glare of the roof. When her eyes cleared, Iris was aware of a huge building, built of heavy timbers and roofed with something shiny that gleamed and glared in the sun. As they drew closer, she could see it was actually several buildings huddled together. He pulled into a broad courtyard of packed dirt. A young man immediately emerged from one of the smaller buildings and took the reins. Thor stepped down and held out his hand. Iris followed her mouth dropping as she took in the scale of the building.

The central building was the largest, with smaller structures built against it. It was huge, easily four stories high, with doors and windows to match. The roof glinted again in the light, and Iris wondered what metal it was. The double doors were large enough that they needn’t have bothered getting out of the chariot. Huge iron hinges gave them an ancient look, reinforced by the intricate carvings, dark and weathered with age.

He stopped her a few feet from the doors, “Now, look, this is important. When you see the Allfather, be respectful, be humble, and be silent. Do you understand?”

She nodded, taken aback by the urgency in his voice.

“Good. As long as you don’t do anything stupid, we should be fine.” He turned back to the doors, “And now, for some drama.”

He put a hand on each door—Iris guessed they must weigh a thousand pounds each—and pushed. The door flew open, hitting the wall with a thud that reverberated throughout the building. Thor strode in, Iris trying to keep up behind him.

The Hall was immense, but the drama seemed to be wasted; it was completely empty. At least four stories high, and all of that open space. Windows on all the walls let in light, illuminating enough benches and tables to seat a thousand or more. However, there was still room for fire pits, complete with spits big enough to hold a whole deer. Iris realized she was slowing down to gawk and Thor was now quite a bit ahead of her. She scurried to catch up.

He reached the far end of the Hall and stopped. There was a throne sitting on a dais and a figure sitting, somewhat hunched over, on the throne. Thor bowed from the waist. “Father, I’ve brought—”

“I can see her.” His voice reverberated through the building, filling every corner of the empty hall. “Step closer” Iris jumped and realized he was speaking to her. She’d been too busy gawking at her surroundings to pay attention. Looking at the smoothed stones of the floor, she took a couple steps in front of Thor.

“Look at me, girl.” She raised her head, and for a moment saw only an old man with long gray hair and a long gray beard, wearing an eye patch. Huge black ravens sat on perches on either side of his throne, and a huge dog lay at either side of him. Then he locked his one eye with hers.

Iris was dimly aware her legs were giving way, and managed to catch herself on her hands, the stone was smooth and cold. With a flash of clarity, she knew. Somehow. She understood. Iris bowed low before the god, trying to escape the power of his penetrating gaze, unable to form coherent thoughts. She was in the presence of a god. Why was he so interested in her?

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