Two Ravens and One Crow (Novella)

expiate your debt. That, and one other thing.«
    »What?«
    »I would appreciate the return of Gungnir.«
    »Promise not to throw it at me again?«
    A flicker of irritation crossed Odin’s face. »Yes.«
    »Okay, sure, I’ll return it. I have no use for it. Send Hugin and Munin to visit me in Arizona three days from now. I’ll tell them where to pick it up.«
    »Thank you. And Ragnarok?«
    I thought about Hel and her attempt to kill me near Kayenta. I thought about the world overrun with draugar . Even people who were preparing for the zombie apocalypse would have trouble with those things. »If the shit goes down, Odin, I’m on your side.«
    »Excellent. Will you fight with him, Morrigan?«
    The Morrigan, like Frigg, had remained silent for much of the meal. Now she gave a thin smile. »I’m afraid I’ll have to miss that particular battle. The Valkyries will have to suffice.«
    Odin’s expression darkened. We had killed twelve of the Valkyries when we raided Asgard. I don’t know how many remained, if any. To change the subject, I said, »Can I ask what happened to Thor’s hammer?«
    »Why?« Frigg asked. »Did you promise someone you’d steal it?«
    The nastiness of the question surprised me. We’d been getting along so well. But I tend to react when provoked. »No,« I said. »If I had, it would already be in my possession.« Frigg seethed and Odin chuckled softly.
    »You were supposed to keep my anger in check,« he said.
    The fourth course was cleared away—the waiter making sure we were all okay, since the gods hadn’t touched the veal—and the fifth was laid before us. Five different well-aged cheeses were attractively presented on a white rectangular platter with crackers and fruit compote. Some were sliced in triangles, some in thin, translucent pieces. It was a superlative achievement in both geometry and dairy. The sommelier served us something from Italy; I didn’t quite catch it.
    »Mjöllnir rests in Gladsheim,« Odin said once the servers had retreated.
    »No one wields it now?«
    The Norse gods frowned as if I’d asked something particularly inane. »Like who?« Odin said.
    »I was thinking maybe some other, later aspect of Thor. The one from the comics is popular right now.«
    Odin scoffed. »Popular, perhaps. But he is not worshipped, and you know what that means: He can’t muster magic enough to manifest himself! He has to be played by a human actor in his own movies. He’s nothing but cheap entertainment. Surely you know this.«
    I did know it, but it never hurts to let possible antagonists think they are smarter than you.
    »Well, if he can’t do it, then surely some other aspect of Thor can?«
    »They are all comfortable in their current situations, and none is as strong as the original. I wouldn’t want a single one of them at my back. No, Thor’s responsibility is now yours.«
    »Mine? You want me to face the world serpent?«
    »Or find someone else to do it, yes.«
    This twist in the conversation reminded me uncomfortably of Cleopatra on the ceiling. I looked up and examined it again past the glow of the chandelier, and, while I did, the gods directed their attention to the cheeses.
    The artist had taken quite a bit of license; Cleopatra reclined, leaning on her right arm, while her left hand held a snake up to her breast, inviting it to bite her. I thought the snake would have simply bitten her hand when she reached to pick it up, but that was the least of the odd choices the artist had made. For some reason, he had decided to give Cleopatra European features and provide her with a Rubenesque figure; my archdruid would have described her as »festively plump.« She also appeared to be dressed in Greek style rather than anything Egyptian. Though still quite beautiful as a work of art, the inaccuracy bizarrely exposed what I think is the true tragedy of Cleopatra: No one really understood her or her decision. But maybe some could empathize with the feeling of being trapped by circumstances. I certainly could.
    »I can’t agree specifically to a cage match with Jörmungandr,« I said, »but I will fight on your side against Hel, see if I can recruit additional aid, and return Gungnir to help make amends for my wrongs against you.«
    Odin opened his mouth to reply but closed it again as the sommelier arrived to bring us a dessert wine for the final course. It was to be a macaron filled with Bavarian vanilla and strawberries and served with champagne jelly, and he assured