I forced a laugh. It sounded one helluva lot braver than I felt. "What does every goddamn god and goddess in the entire stinking Norse pantheon want? Revenge."

"Revenge?" Her eyes narrowed. After a moment, she turned away to pace toward the hearth.

Firelight glowed behind her, casting green luminescence through the filmy gown she wore. Firelight highlighted exquisite thighs and hips through sheer cloth rendered virtually invisible. I swallowed hard, and tightened my grip on the Biter. It squeezed back reassuringly.

She turned without warning and fixed me with a cold stare."Yes," she hissed quietly, "I do want revenge. Odin tortures my poor brother Fenrir, who did him no harm, and denies me my rightful place in the ruling councils of heaven. I have the dead"-she laughed coldly, and the bitter sound made my flesh creep across my scalp-"but the dead do not swell to near bursting with the lust for life, as I do. Cold lot of miserable, ambitionless slaves . . ."

She regained her composure and blinked in surprise for a moment. Then her brow furrowed deeply. "Youare dangerous."

She reminded me of a cat about to pounce on a hapless beetle.

"Yeah." I grinned, still sweating. "I do believe I am. But not to you."

Her glance swept me from boot soles to crown. "Are you trying to tell me you won't fight to the end of your strength when I come for your soul?"

I managed a nonchalant shrug. "Who saysyou are going to collect it? I've got several deities vying for that right. Personally speaking, I'm not done with it just yet."

She actually gaped. Then laughed aloud. "Not done with it yet. . ." She wiped genuine tears from the corners of her eyes. "So tell me, little man," she said, still chuckling, "just what is it you intend to do with your soul while it is still in your possession?"

She hadn't killed me yet. If I could just keep her talking . . . I remembered somewhat desperately bargaining with Frau Brunner for that knife I'd given Odin. Gary'd told me, "If you could bargain that way when it really counts . . ."

"You want revenge on Odin. So do I. That makes us allies, not enemies. You're the goddess of death, yes; but only death from accident and sickness and old age. I've got a lot of fight left yet, which means Freyja and Odin both have a stake in me, too. Who knows, I've been so much trouble I might end up getting thrown into Niflhel with all thereal badasses."

She smiled coyly. "That could be arranged."

"Huh. I'll bet it could. My point-my first point-is this. You've only got a one-in-three chance of getting hold of me. And if I'm dead, I can't finish what I set out to do."

She nodded impatiently. "Get to your real point. Why should I let you live?"

"Because I'm going to kill Odin for you."

She just stared. Then blinked once. Then she said, very quietly, "You aren't meant to be the instrument of his death."

I smiled into her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Hel frowned.

I pressed my slight advantage. "How many dead has he stolen from you already? Dead he shouldn't have been able to take?"

Her eyes widened, and she blurted, "How did you-?" Then Hel clamped her lips, and narrowed her eyes. "All right. You've made your point. Just how do you propose to kill him?"

I grinned. "Are you kidding? Tell you my plans with his son listening on the other side of the door?

Besides, those goddamned, tattletale ravens of his could be hiding anywhere."

She started, and looked suspiciously into the shadows for Hugin and Munin. Odin sent that pair out daily as spies to the various nine worlds, to learn what was going down. Then she scowled and turned a baleful glare on me. "If you know so much, mortal, you should realize full well that Odin will die in the final battle! My brother will devour him."

I murmured again, "Are yousure ?"

She paused. Then she licked her lips with a narrow vermilion tongue, and chewed absently at her lower lip with a sharp white fang. I sweat some more, and waited for her to think it through.

Finally she muttered to herself, "You seek a word with my father about Sleipnir, and say you wish to slay Odin." She looked up and held my gaze. "I can certainly guess why you need Sleipnir." Her tone was droll. I had no doubt whatever that she had. "And the Biter comes willingly to your hand," she mused aloud. "I am probably a fool. . . ."She caught and held my gaze with a glittering ruby stare.

"Do you swear to me on your immortal soul that you will harm neither of my brothers in this mad quest of yours? Be warned-go back on this oath, and you are mine forever, regardless of the manner of your death."

I, too, was probably a fool. . . .

Slowly I shook my head. "I'm not stupid, Hel. I'm not after your brothers, but no one can swear that kind of an oath and be certain of keeping it. Accidents happen. Innocent bystanders get in the way.

I'll promise to do my damnedest not to injure either of them, but I won't swear an oath like that."

I expected her to kill me on the spot. Instead she smiled.

"You drive a hard bargain, mortal. And you are shrewd." She shrugged her smooth shoulders, which lifted her breasts tantalizingly beneath the gauzy gown. "Can you blame me for trying?"

I snorted. "Not really. Lady, you're about the farthest thing from stupid I've ever seen."

Her chortle was surprisingly warm. "Why, thank you." She reached out a long finger toward my chin. I stepped hastily back, swinging the Biter up between us. She halted, and looked hurt; then sighed.

"And you are a very wise man. I really do regret this; you'd have been such fun in bed."

I wrapped my other hand around the wrist holding the Biter, not only to brace my arm, but to keep both hands from shaking so badly. Damn her. . . .

But she didn't kill me. She said only, "It is a bargain, then. I allow you to keep your life as your own -for now," she added with a winsome smile that left me dripping sweat, "and you agree to spare my brothers-if possible-" she amended graciously when I opened my mouth to protest, "when you go after Odin on this mad quest of yours. Agreed?"

I reviewed the wording of that contract with microscopic care. "You agree to allow me to keep my life as my own, period, no strings attached and no interference, and then you can haggle with me and with the rest of the gods and goddesses for my soul when my time to die eventually comes around in its own due course. And I agree to try not to injure or kill either of your brothers in the course of hunting and killing Odin, but make no promises that I might not accidentally kill or injure one or both of them, since I can't predict the course or outcome of any fight with a god or anyone or anything that might support him." I thought about what I'd said again, decided I was happy with it, and added, "Agreed?"

I saw her lips moving silently as she, in turn, reviewed the potential contract. At length she pouted in sheer annoyance and muttered, "Agreed."

I began breathing again; cautiously.

She turned aside, and toyed with the scraps of food left on her plate. "I suppose I should wish you luck in capturing my traitorous half-brother. Sleipnir is notoriously tricky. Of course," she flashed a grim smile, "heis our father's son."

I'd never quite thought of Sleipnir in terms of Hel's half-brother. I thought about the terms of our agreement, and wondered which two brothers I'd ended up swearing to try not to hurt. Of course, that knife cut both ways-I could always claim that she hadn't stipulated which two, and therefore I wasn't bound by any kind of oath regarding Sleipnir. Of course, she could then declare the whole thing null and void and kill me anyway. . . . I decided I'd better not hurt Fenrir, the World Serpent,or Sleipnir if I could possibly help it. Who would we get to judge a contract dispute?

"I think perhaps youare none of my affair, mortal," Hel was saying. "And since you wish to speak to my father, you are going to have to arrange for your own transportation to him." She glanced up at me. "He lies in Niflhel, mortal, not Niflheim, and no one enters Niflhel without the express permission of the Norns themselves."

I didn't know whether or not she was telling the truth. It didn't make sense that the goddess of death wouldn't have access to that part of the underworld where the truly evil dead were sent. Even psychopathic monsters sometimes died accidentally, or of old age. But then, someone had to judge the dead, and the Norns seemed as likely a candidate as anyone.

"I'd rather not make another detour," I said dryly. "It's nothing personal, but I'd just as soon spendas little time as possible in this world of yours, and I've got other people to call on. So why don't you just give me directions-"

She slammed her fists down on the table. The plate jumped, and the knife clattered to the floor. I'd never seen sparks literally fly out of someone's eyes. . . .

"Impudent little man! I have been patient enough with you!"

The Biter flared wildly green in my hand. I snarled right back, "Going to forswear yourself so soon, lady? Isn't thatOdin's specialty?"

She bit down on whatever it was she had been about to say.

The next thing I knew-even before I could take in what had happened-I was standing in a driving sleet storm, dizzy and shivering. The Biter was in my hand; but I was utterly alone outside Hel's miserable hall of death. And all my gear was locked behind doors and walls I could never hope to penetrate.

Chapter Fourteen.

For a long moment I stood gaping stupidly at the high, ice-coated wall; then rage swept through me. What actually went through my mind I don't know; but abruptly Gary's knife was glowing even more fiercely in the gloom. I launched myself straight at Hel's tarnished silver gates. The Biter sank deep, cutting a gash downward like a blowtorch. The silver on either side melted and dripped away, freezing an instant later into sharp points and rounded globules.

The Biter cut deeper. Then a ponderous groan reached my ears above the sleet-heavy wind. The gates moved toward me. I stumbled numbly back out of the way to avoid being crushed by several tons of solid silver.

I did not expect the sight that met my eyes. Baldr appeared, riding one horse and leading another.

My gear was slung over the second animal's back. The Biter went dark in my hand. I blinked. The heavy gates groaned shut behind him again and came together with a dull thud. He glanced over his shoulder, saw the damage I'd inflicted, and whistled between his teeth.

"Im-press-ive. Stupid, but impressive. What were you going to do if you got in?"

I gestured at the second horse. "I needed my gear."

"Uh-huh. Ready to go?"

I didn't let go of the Biter, and was pleased when it remained poised for battle. "I have no intention of going anywhere near the Norns. Like I said, I've got things to do, and I'm a little shy on time."

Baldr shook his head. "For one thing, you're in no shape to reach Loki. One meal and a few hours'

rest won't do it. For another, you haven't the faintest idea which way to go. -Wait, hear me out," he said as I started to interrupt.

"All right," I growled, "say your piece."

Baldr inclined his head in mock thanks. His voice came out a little flat. "You're finally learning courtesy."

"I'm courteous enough," I countered. "Tolerance for assholes, I've never had."

Baldr's brows shot into his hairline. Then he laughed-and, notably, his breath did not steam in the freezing air, the way mine did. "I've been called many things, Randy Barnes; but you are the first to give Odin's sonthat title."

"Huh. Good to know I'll be famous for something."

He chuckled. "Indeed, you will. I am sorry, you know, but you really must see the Norns. Hel was right. You're none of her affair, which means you shouldn't be in Niflheim at all. Either you're here by my father's design-which I'm seriously beginning to doubt-or you're here because the Norns want you here."

"I wouldn't bet on that," I muttered.

Baldr frowned; but refrained from comment.I wiped ice crystals off my eyelashes so I could see him better, and took my horse's reins.

Mounting took only a moment, then I swung my horse's head around to face Baldr. I kept the Biter in my free hand, between me and Odin's son. "If it's all the same to you, Baldr, I don't need a nursemaid.

Especially not Hel's. Nothing personal."

His frown deepened furrows in his cheeks. "I am not here at Hel's instructions."

"Oh?"

For the first time, Baldr looked tired and . . . well, dead.

"No. I'm not." He paused; then met my gaze levelly. "It's clear I don't understand what's happening here, any more than Hel does; but I rather like you, Randy Barnes, and you may believe it or not, I admire you very much already. I'd hoped to extend my hand in friendship."

"You'll understand, I hope, if I have trouble believing that."

I expected him to get angry, and abandon me to my own devices-which was exactly what I wanted. Instead, he paled, and looked troubled.

"I am not accustomed," he said very quietly, almost inaudible above the sleet-filled wind, "to being so mistrusted. Whatever drives you, it is clear you have little love for us." He glanced up from his horse's mane, and shivered in an errant blast of icy wind, the first indication he'd given that Niflheim's weather affected the dead.

"Perhaps," he mused, "you have good reason. I would give a great deal to know what you said to Hel. In all my centuries here, I've never seen her in such a towering temper. Frankly, I'm astonished she let you live."

"As someone else has found out recently"-I smiled tightly-"I'm not so easy to kill."

He stared levelly into my eyes. "That may be. But Niflheim isn't exactly hospitable to someone who's still alive. Please believe me, if you want to survive much longer, you will have to accept some help. Without food, water, or a sense of direction, you won't last another four songs."

"Twenty-four hours, huh? You don't know what a tough bastard I am. And the Biter can get me where I want to go."

-Unless where I wanted to go conflicted with its notion of whereit thought I should go, a possibility I had to consider.

"It's your funeral." He shrugged. "I'd thought you were more intelligent than that. I would be more than willing to guide you to Loki, and you would travel safely in my company. I swear that on whatever you consider sacred; but only if we visit the Norns first. I, at any rate, would like to know what I've let myself in for, befriending you. Hel was not amused when I left her hall to come after you."

I studied him narrowly; but found no hint of guile in his troubled blue eyes. Had Odin's son really put it on the line for me? It didn't seem likely. On the other hand, Baldr's reputation argued that he was telling the truth. I found myself wanting to believe him. I liked this stocky, blue-eyed god who'd been dead before mankind learned to turn iron ore into weapons. Baldr waited in silence, while I sat astride my dead horse and tried to decide what to do.

I was already ravenously hungry, especially now that I was away from Hel's unappetizing home. I had no food of my own, and there wasn't much water left in my canteens. If the River Gjoll were any indication, none of the water in Niflheim might be drinkable. I might be able to steal some of the weird mushrooms I'd seen growing nearby; but I couldn't be sure which ones were safe. Nanna had known, and Baldr probably would, too, but I might end up poisoning myself, especially if they had to be specially prepared to get rid of toxins. I'd be no good to Gary dead of starvation and consigned to Hel's hall for eternity.

On the other hand, visiting the Norns might not be such a bad idea. If they called the shots-or once had-I might get valuable information from them. The more I thought about that, the more it made sense. Predestination had gone screwy. So who better to consult than the three old witches who were supposed to preordain everything? For all I knew, maybe they'd gotten so senile they'd simply lost track of what they were supposed to be arranging. In which case, I might be able to do a helluva lot more thanI'd hoped.

I glanced over at him, and scowled. "Dammit, Baldr, you know I haven't got much choice."

He grinned and tossed me a fur overjacket slung across his lap. "Then get into that before you freeze-and see if you can guide your horse out of this ice storm without breaking your fool neck.

Whatever do they teach warriors these days?"

"Yeah? Well, I'd like to see you try and drive an M-113 armored personnel carrier," I muttered. I slid the parka on and closed it up, then turned in the saddle and checked my gear. Everything was there.

I slipped the web gear on; then adjusted the pack straps to fit over the fur jacket.

"Okay, pal o' mine, lead the way."

Baldr smiled, friendly and relaxed again, then turned his horse's head and set off at a walk. I wondered briefly what I'd let myself in for this time, then wondered what Hel made of all this. Probably was gnashing her pointed teeth. I shivered in a stray blast of wind, and hoped I never saw Hel again, before death or after.

We skirted the enormous wall and headed inland.

Once past the wall, Baldr glanced back curiously. "What, exactly, did you say to Hel back there?"