I know. But I do. His claim to have more influence than a god offered a smug satisfaction which Larson tried to keep back from his readable thoughts. Hel told us a way to bring Silme back. So far, we've failed. But I'm not quite ready to give up yet.
Vidarr's reply came in a rush of incredulity. Show me, Allerum. Concentrate on what has happened since I saw you. That'll highlight those instances so I can move to the appropriate portion of your thoughts.
Larson hesitated. In the past, he had found these mind intrusions extremely discomforting. The manipulation of his thoughts seemed dangerous and obscene. All right. But only for Silme. And don't you go wandering off anywhere else. Cautiously, he plucked the incidents in Hel from his memory. The eager crash of Vidarr through his consciousness made Larson cringe. He felt like a scaled fish, naked, deboned, his very being flayed open for the world to see. When he calculated that the god had spent enough time examining his conversation with Hel, he switched to the near slaying of Bengta at the Dragonrank School.
Vidarr scanned quietly for some time before he withdrew. It is good you didn't let Gaelinar kill the sorceress.
Good for my conscience. Not so good for Silme.
Not really, Allerum. Taking Bengta's life would not have restored Silme's.
No? Larson felt as if a great burden had lifted from his chest. But she was a sapphire-rank and a woman who served law. How much more like Silme could a person get? Does Hel expect us to find Silme an identical twin?
Hel expects you to fail. Vidarr cloaked his emotions with practiced thoroughness. She was deliberately vague, hoping you'd make the precise mistake you did make. You see, Allerum, our Fates control the balance of our world. You could have slain Bengta only if there was a gap. That is, only if it was time for a law-abiding creature of her strength to die…
Well, of course, but… Larson hesitated, wishing he had never drunk the first beer. This makes no sense, Vidarr. How else can I ' 'open a place'' for Silme? Larson clenched his hands until his knuckles blanched. Don't tell me. It's a "catch-22. "
Vidarr hesitated, enwrapped in an aura of confusion. Explain.
Hel had no intention of letting Silme go free. In order to kill Bengta, we needed to "open a place" in Hel by raising Silme. But to raise Silme, we need to "open a place'' on Midgard by killing Bengta. It can't be done.
On the contrary, Allerum. It can be done and in such a way neither you nor Silme would morally object to the method.
Excitement swept through Larson. He found himself unable to speak or even compose a coherent thought.
Vidarr waited patiently.
How? Larson managed at last.
I'm sorry, Allerum. I can't tell you.
What do you mean you can't tell me! With effort, he restrained his anger until Vidarr had a chance to elaborate.
I can't tell you until you complete my task.
Your task. Larson felt feverish. Your task! To hell with your task. You know how to save Silme. Tell me. Now!
Vidarr was mercilessly repetitive. I can't tell you until you complete my task.
Larson blustered in wordless rage. If Vidarr had stood before him, he would have attacked without thinking. As it was, his fist pounded the shrine stone with enough force to cause physical pain. Larson contented himself with a visual image of his own hands throttling Vidarr. He made no effort to shield the picture from his surface thoughts.
Very nice, Allerum. Bland indulgence colored Vidarr's reply. But I think it's a sacrilege. An impiety at the very least.
Larson dropped the concept. I don't care if you are a god. You're a bastard. Silme served you faithfully. She gave her life for your cause.
She gave her life for all mankind. Vidarr's tolerance waned. My father has several illegitimate children, not the least among them Thor. I, however, am not one. And neither was my brother, Baldur. His reprimand softened. I want Silme back as much as you do. Listen, Allerum…
Larson broke in. No, you listen. If you wanted her back
as much as me, no task in the world would come before her. For god's sake, Vidarr. Larson winced, wishing he could rephrase his argument. I rescued you from Loki's spell. You owe me.
Vidarr's anger echoed Larson's. And I repaid you.
How? Larson challenged.
Didn't you even notice? Allerum, I took away your madness.
Larson screamed in frustration. "Well, put it back!" The absurdity of his own suggestion jarred him to realization. Wait a minute. You're lying. I had a flashback at the Dragonrank school.
I fixed what was there. I cut the odd connections and loops of thought. But I didn't change who and what you are, Allerum. Apparently, you have a tendency to develop this particular madness in certain situations.
And you keep putting me into those situations.
Don't blame me. You went to Hel on your own.
Stalemate. Larson worked the conversation to a different tack. What's so important about this task that you're willing to put it before rescuing Silme?
Vidarr's emotions slid through a spectrum from relief to discomfort. I can't tell you.
This is bullshit! You're not going to tell me why I'm risking my life, and Silme's? Forget it, Vidarr. I'm not doing it.
Wait. Vidarr went utterly still in Larson's mind. Just as Larson thought the god had abandoned him, Vidarr continued. This isn't easy for me. You know I'm not used to phrasing points. I usually communicate only with emotions.
Larson folded his arms across his chest unsympa-thetically. Go on.
I'm sending you to retrieve the rod of the first Dragon-rank mage, Geirmagnus. He hesitated in what felt to Larson like uncertainty. But when Larson showed no recognition, Vidarr's confidence returned. Your success would bring Baldur back from Hel.
Outrage scrambled Larson's thoughts.
Patiently, Vidarr waited while Larson formed a reply.
So, you want me to raise Baldur from death while Silme rots in Hell I'd rather die.
No. No. Vidarr waded through Larson's thoughts in agitation. I never said that. Baldur is my brother. I love him dearly. And yes, I want him back. But not in exchange for Silme, in addition to her. She won't become irretrievable in the few days it takes to obtain Geirmag-nus' rod.
Repeatedly, Larson clenched and opened his fists, wishing he had something to hit. Silme first. Baldur second. And hold still. You're making me dizzy.
Vidarr ceased pacing. I'm sorry, Allerum. Baldur must come first. I cannot compromise.
Why not?
Because the method you would need to use to raise Silme would mgke the quest for Geirmagnus' rod far more difficult, if not impossible. Vidarr winced. Allerum, stop pushing me. Don't make me lie to you. I could tell you retrieving the rod would bring Silme back. Then you'd run off and get it. Nothing could stand in your way. But I wouldn't do that to you.
Larson said nothing as he let Vidarr's revelations sink in.