“Okay, but you know what was real, even if you don’t know what was written. The two of us collectively could probably piece together everything… I mean, for instance, the arch-villain of the Memoirs is this guy called Surt. So how does that compare with reality? Was there a Surt? A real, individual person, like an actual master of disguise, criminal genius, etc., etc.?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not just messing with me, are you? Because I kind of had this theory going that he was supposed to be a symbol for the evil that men do. Like all the different disguises that he takes show how evil can take many forms, but that, despite all the different personas, the same face of primal, archetypal evil always lurks just beneath the surface.”
“Nope. He was real.”
“Wow.”
Steam rose from a grate down to the tunnels and smelled of rotten eggs.
“But my father pretty much thinks of him as the living embodiment of all evil, even though he’s dead. If that’s any comfort.”
“You know, I met your dad once, but I didn’t even realize it was him until too late.”
“Yeah? When was that? He doesn’t get out much these days. He’s not as old as Valison, but…”
“Well, it was about three years ago, I guess. When I was visiting Vanaheim. I met Gerd, too, while I was there. She was a lot nicer than Valison made her out to be in the Memoirs. So I guess it wasn’t all true. She was giving this speech about Vanaheim’s attempt to gain independence from Iceland and stuff. We talked a little afterwards because she thought maybe my status as a big-name actor could help the cause. You know, like I could do a benefit or something to raise awareness.”[19]
Our Heroine quickened her pace.
Our Heroine’s adversarial relationship with Gerd began almost immediately upon their first meeting in 1976, during the case in which the Bean-Ymirsons discovered Vanaheim.[20] The family was living in a small Icelandic village near Snaefells and had become intrigued by the profusion of local legends concerning beings that the villagers referred to as “the hidden folk.” Ymirson initially took this all to be nothing more than indication of a rich folkloric tradition, but when Our Heroine had gone off exploring on her own one day and fallen through a hidden opening in the ground, the Bean-Ymirsons were soon made aware that some of the legends were only too true.
Our Heroine knocked herself unconscious in the fall, but fortunately Prescott had been wandering Vanaheim’s outer regions at the time—sulking over the constraints of the life that was laid out for him after his impending ascension to the throne—and he heard her come crashing down. He’d never seen a topsider before, so he smuggled her into his living quarters without a word to anyone else lest they take her away from him.
The Bean-Ymirsons searched for her frantically over the next few days as Prescott nursed her back to health; they’d almost given up hope by the time the locals began to suggest that perhaps she’s been kidnapped by the hidden folk. Despite their natural skepticism, Jon and Emily were by that point willing to try just about anything. Through continual bellowing, then, Ymirson was finally able to convince the locals to take him to Vanaheim.
From there, things got really complicated, with the rumblings of a not-so-dormant volcano, an ill-fated love affair between a local girl and a wayward Vanatru youth, and Ymirson’s chief assistant Jonsi hatching an elaborate plot to murder the family and lay claim to the discovery of Vanaheim for himself. To this end, he managed to enlist the cooperation of Prescott’s uncle Bragi, who had long planned on ruling Vanaheim from behind the scenes after Prescott’s ascension, anyway.
Gerd got involved in the plot, as well, once she found out that Prescott was keeping Our Heroine in his quarters. Personal motives aside, she firmly believed in upholding Vanatru tradition; she thus considered all topsiders to be the enemy, and so felt she had no choice but to go along with Bragi and Jonsi’s plan.
The Bean-Ymirsons eventually brought everything to a happy conclusion, of course. Bragi fell to his death in an attempt to stop Our Heroine from disrupting Prescott’s ascension, Jon Ymirson foiled Jonsi’s scheme and turned him over to the authorities, Emily Bean convinced Gerd of the error of her ways, and the family adopted Prescott, bringing him back home with them to the States rather than leave him to the mercies of his uncle’s remaining supporters. True, Gerd had popped up on a few occasions since then to cause trouble for Our Heroine, but for the most part things had worked out well for everyone involved. At least up until the last six months.
Vico Road, on which Hubert’s shop was situated, was at least well plowed, though the snow still annoyed. Flakes drifting back and down and forth, to hit the ground, like space invaders in the cinema lobby that summer.
“It must be so cool to have a whole town celebrate your mom every year,” Nathan offered as they walked past a streetvendor’s table laid with complete sets of the Memoirs.
“Which Bean Day attractions have you visited so far?” she asked.
“Well, not many, to tell the truth. I kind of got a late start on this whole thing, since my literary agent didn’t even call me to tell me about this gig until yesterday, and I had to drive up late last night. I’ve only been with him for a little while now, since my old agent died of food poisoning, and so we still haven’t quite worked out the kinks of communication, you know. Let’s see, I did have a cup of ormolu tea when I woke up this morning, though. And I bought a ticket to the “Discover Vanaheim” exhibit at the museum this afternoon.”
“Didn’t you say you’ve already been to the actual Vanaheim?”
“Yeah, but this exhibit’s supposed to compress the whole experience into about half an hour, so I figure it’ll be pretty intense.”
“I’m sure. Anyway, here we are.”
Dust-encrusted curtains cut the interior from view through the window, but darkness beamed beneath their edges. He was probably in there hiding.
“And where is here, exactly?” Nathan asked.
“This is a book-store. It belongs to a friend of mine. Hubert Jorgen.”
“And you think your dog might be in there?”
“Just as likely here as anywhere else, I suppose. It’s kind of a home away from home.”
“All right. Should we break the window, then?”
Our Heroine glanced up at him. He seemed serious.
“Let’s try the door, first,” she suggested.
“Ah. Right.”
The door swung open with a bell-tinkle to further expose the lack of light within. Our Heroine glanced around. The street seemed pretty empty. And no one peering down from any windows. But then she saw: Wible’s pipe spilling smoke around the corner down the block. Well, so what if they were following her. She turned back to the door.
“Hubert?” she called. “It’s me. And I’ve brought a friend.”
“Doesn’t look like anybody’s in there,” Nathan said.
“Hubert, are you here?” Her words went echoless, absorbed by the books.
“Shut the door,” she said to Nathan as she stepped into the store in front of him. “The light switches are in the back; I’ll go get them.”
Hands out front, sliding her feet along the floor so she wouldn’t trip, Our Heroine faded into the ash-colored quarter-light of the store’s far end. When a shelf got in her way she cursed, glanced back at Nathan’s silhouette against the yet-open white rectangle of doorway, then turned and moved on. Nothing sounded, aside from her shuffling. Finally she found it, cold concrete wall and rusty metal box on it; careful not to cut herself she reached inside and flipped the switches.
19
Magnus Valison’s exact feelings on the issue of Vanaheim’s sovereignty are difficult to discern. Though Gerd was a featured antagonist in a full fourth of the twelve volumes of the