Urban Mythic by C. Gockel & Other Authors - HTML preview

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Chapter 11

After the weekend we’d had, going back to Cardiff was almost surreal. Of course, I was sworn to secrecy about Ull’s heritage, so quick thought was required when Victoria and Emma pounced.

“Kristia,” Emma teased as I walked in on Monday evening. “You left with Ull, days ago.” She overemphasized the word. “What on earth have you been doing all this time?”

Victoria jumped up on the couch, tucking her long legs beneath her. “Yes, do tell. What, where, how many times…” My face must have been a fine compliment to the burgundy door.

“No, no. Nothing like that. Nothing inappropriate went on. Ull is old-fashioned.” Very old-fashioned. Nobody did old-fashioned like the Vikings.

“Right.” Victoria raised one perfectly-groomed eyebrow at Emma.

Emma winked back. “I’m sure you had a glorious time studying together and discussing the British Economy. Where exactly did you say he took you?”

“To his family home in the Cotswolds.” I jumped at the opportunity and dove into a detailed description of the garden at Ýdalir, Bibury’s duck pond, and Olaug’s amazing food. “But the house was the most impressive thing.”

“More impressive than Ull’s arms?” Emma teased.

“OK, the second most impressive thing.”

“More than Ull’s chest?” Victoria was quick to reply.

“OK, the house was the most impressive thing, not counting Ull himself.” This stumped them momentarily, and I rushed along. “It’s an amazing cottage that belongs in a fairytale. It has this long driveway, a little fountain in the middle, and the sweetest little chimney that puffs smoke like a cartoon. The garden backs up to this pasture with actual sheep, and the sitting room has big couches to watch the rain. It’s like a little slice of heaven.” Or a slice of Asgard, though from what Ull told me they were pretty much the same.

“It does sound… impressive,” Emma begrudgingly admitted. “But you really don’t have anything juicier to share? Come on, K! Spill, are you two, like, dating?”

Dating. It seemed so ordinary a word – it didn’t exactly cover Ull’s pledge to share his world with me, or my secret plot to circumvent Asgard’s ban on humans. But dating would have to do.

“Yes. We’re dating.” I flushed.

“You go, girl. A month into the semester and you’ve snagged the most eligible bachelor on campus.” Victoria sighed with satisfaction. “I told you your outfit was perfect.”

Emma laughed. “Leave it to Victoria to make it all about clothes!”

Once my roommates were asleep, I closed my door and booted up my laptop. I’d left Ýdalir with more questions than answers, thanks to the discovery that my boyfriend was a god – an Asgardian assassin no less. I knew he’d given me all the information he was willing to share for now, so I felt only a little guilty turning to the Internet for answers.

The Google did not disappoint. I typed in “Norse gods” and came up with a slew of websites relaying the stories Mormor told me as a child. There was Sif, the Warrior Goddess of Beauty. And Thor, all-powerful with his mighty Mjölnir. Odin was there in his eye patch and even Balder was represented, bearing a masculine resemblance to our own Lady Justice. Each god had a story to tell, and for an hour, I lost myself in their journeys. How different this studying was, knowing these myths were about real people.

Next, I entered “Ull Myhr” and came up with nothing, so I dropped the Myhr and got a whole range of pages. I found everything from some ski festival in Breckenridge honoring the snow god, to a runic drawing of a man on old-fashioned skis – or were they skates? – crossing a river. There were academic papers detailing Ull’s parentage, and even a blurb about his rumored assassination by Danes after taking over for Odin. According to the Internet everything Ull had told me about himself was true. But I’d known that much. What I didn’t know was how he fared at Ragnarok.

I switched gears, searching for Ragnarok. Everything I found was pretty consistent with what Mormor and Professor Carnicke had preached. The realms would turn on Asgard, with serpents and wolves and every imaginable beast attacking the gods and destroying the earth. Nearly all the gods would die horrible deaths, with an unnamed handful either surviving or being reborn.

Well that was no help. I wanted names. I wanted to see that Ull was going to live. I clicked the next link, then the next, but nothing could tell me who might survive. Ull wasn’t even mentioned in the Ragnarok articles. For the first time in my life, the Internet had failed to provide me with the information I needed.

I closed the computer and lay my cheek against its casing. None of this made any sense. According to the Internet, my highly accredited University course, and every story I’d ever been told, Ragnarok already happened. The Earth was reborn from the aftermath, and descendents of the survivors repopulated the planet. So why was Ull talking like the mythological Norse apocalypse was some looming threat, a to-be-determined gala of destruction? Wasn’t it in the past? Obviously, I didn’t know everything about the End of the World. And neither did the Internet. Problem was, I didn’t have anyone else to ask. Ull was the only god I knew, and I wasn’t about to question him on what I knew was a very sensitive issue. I crawled into bed and hoped some rest would slow the fears gnawing at my brain.


My night was quiet, but my sleep was fitful. Usually, my dreams were filled with visions of Ragnarok or creepy Elf Man or other scary things, but tonight I was replaying my last night at Ýdalir. Ull walked me to my door and declined my romantic overture, just like he had in real life. But in my dream, I tilted my head and stuck out my lower lip.

“Ull,” my pout was seriously unladylike, “It’s just one more kiss. What’s the big deal?”

“Kristia, I cannot,” Ull demurred. “You have to understand.”

“Oh, I understand all right.” I took a step closer, inhaling his woodsy scent. “I understand that you kissed me so thoroughly you’re afraid if you do it again, you’ll lose control and do something crazy. Is that right?” I trailed a finger through his thick hair, down his jaw, and along the line of his torso and rested my palm flat against his abs.

“That is right,” Ull breathed softly. His eyes burned with longing.

“Good,” I whispered into his ear. “I want you to do something crazy.” I took a step closer, and he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Please, Ull. Just another minute. Then I swear, I’ll leave you alone.”

He lowered his face to mine, kissing me with such determination I lost all sense of time and space. “Do not ever leave me alone,” he growled, and backed me into the guest room.

Against my will, I was sucked out of my dream, back to the tiny room where I lay tangled in my sheets. I was positive my face was so bright I could have made a living as a landing beacon. And I was equally certain my grandmother would have died all over again if she had any idea what I was capable of.

When Ull showed up to walk me to class the next morning, I had a hard time looking him in the eye. I wasn’t sure what had come over me the night before, and I wondered when I’d work up the nerve to do something like that in real life.

Today wouldn’t be the day. My consummate gentleman came to my door holding a single ivory rose.

“Good morning, Kristia.” He handed me the stem.

“Morning.” I smiled. “This is beautiful. Thanks.” I ducked inside to put it in water. It brought some cheer to our tiny kitchen.

“Anything for you.” He took my umbrella as I closed the door behind me. We started walking toward campus. “Speaking of which, I went ahead and ordered you a pair of Hunters. Size six, right?”

“My feet? Yes, six. What are Hunters?”

“Wellies,” he clarified. I stared blankly. “Rainboots.”

“Oh. Oh! Wow, thank you. That was really nice.”

“It was time.”

“Ha ha.” I glanced at my feet. He wasn’t wrong. This pair had seen better days.

“Did you get any of the Mythology reading done last night?”

I blushed. I’d read about mythology all right, but not the text Professor Carnicke had assigned. “Um, no. I was sort of hoping having a Norse god for a tutor would give me an edge.”

“So you expect me to be your tutor now?”

“Among other things.”

“Oh, Miss Tostenson. What am I going to do with you?” Ull took my hand and we walked to class.

“Sit with me, for starters.” I slid into the third row and waved at my usual seatmate. “Henry, this is Ull Myhr. Ull, this is my friend Henry Webster.”

“Cheers, Ull. Nice to meet you.” Henry stuck out his hand.

“Henry.” Ull’s nod was curt.

“Relax,” I whispered as I got out my laptop. “We’re just friends.”

“I know,” Ull spoke a little too quickly.

“Seriously Ull, you’re threatened by him?”

“I am nothing of the sort.” Ull got out his notebook and clicked the top of his pen. He threw an arm around me with feigned nonchalance, clenching his jaw at Henry’s oblivious smile.

How cute.

After class we headed to the Student Union for tea. Ull’s mobile rang insistently as I poured milk in my drink. “Sorry darling,” he murmured, brushing my forehead with his lips. “It is Olaug. I must take this. Meet you outside.” He grabbed his cup and strode to the door, speaking in Norwegian. It was really hot when he did that – even though I could never keep up with the words.

I took my time adding the sugar and headed outside. When I got to Ull, he’d closed his mobile and was staring at the clouds.

“How is everything?”

“Hmm?” He turned to me. “Oh. Fine.” In girl-speak, “fine” never meant “fine.” But I wasn’t fluent in Norse-god.

“‘Fine’ – Sunday supper might be chicken instead of roast, ‘fine’, or ‘fine’ – Ýdalir is infested with rodents and I need an Asgardian assassin here pronto to wipe them out, ‘fine’?”

“Do not worry yourself, darling,” Ull kissed the top of my head casually as we walked to the library. “Olaug was only giving me a status report. The Norns do not see any threats to Asgard until summer, though they are vague on which summer will spark the trouble.”

I had pretty much accepted that a lot of Ull’s behavior was cryptic, that many things he did would be mysterious at best, unnerving at worst. I tried to be okay with this. Dating a god wasn’t easy, but the way I felt about Ull was worth the uncertainty about our future. He handed me my tea, and we walked to the library, deep in our own thoughts. Ull broke the silence once we’d settled into the coveted leather chairs next to the fireplace.

“Would you like to double-date with my roommates this weekend?”

“Gunnar and Inga? Um, sure. That sounds nice.” I knew it was a ploy to distract me, but it worked. I was pretty easily distracted these days. Gunnar and Inga were gods – what would we talk about? Would they be as easy to be around as Ull? Why were they here? Was it just to support their friend? That obsessive part of my brain normally devoted to school took over, and I forgot all about Ull’s conversation with Olaug. He smiled as he leaned back in his chair, immersing himself in his textbook while my mind went into overdrive.