when they arrived, though few beside Odin’s wife, Frigg, would remain longer than it took them to build their own halls. Thor’s small
Odin had lifted the land and cloaked the mountain in mist, sealing it within its own pocket of time. From Asgard, they could watch the earth, but the earth would not be able to watch back, and no foreign god would be able to reach them without Odin’s permission. It was a precaution they had taken before, though this was the first time they had ever chosen to share a world with other gods. A Covenant of Peace had never been achieved in the five cycles Thor had known, but he was glad of it, and gladder, too, that Odin had seen the wisdom in agreeing.
Thor was weary of the wars and the stench of death, mortal and immortal alike. New worlds were growing harder to find when the last was drained of life. Soon there would be nowhere else to go, and no people to worship them. It would make for an empty existence; even the strongest of the gods would die trying to create life from the dust, a feat the True God of this world had accomplished, and then some.
“You’ll go to the others, Thor,” Odin said, joining him with two mugs of mead.
They sat down on the stone bench beneath the tree. Always the first thing established in any new Asgard, Thor made sure all the proper respects had been paid. The world-tree had been his mother’s last gift before she had left them.
“Bring them gifts of gold and let it be known we have settled here and sworn our vows for peace.”
Thor took a drink of the mead and stared into the amber liquid. “Baldur would be a better ambassador. They would have only to look on him to know his words were sincere.”
“But Baldur is not here, and I dare not wait to learn what I can.” Odin shook his head. “Let it be you. And let these other gods realize the might of the Aesir, in case they entertain ideas of breaking the Covenant.”
“Of course,” Thor agreed.
Baldur was good and genuine, but he lacked the necessary presence for subtle intimidation. That underestimation had served his brother well. No one expected Baldur to be a
“You’ll leave in the morning,” Odin said, his gaze on the tree.
The red leaves fluttered. The first crop of apples had already grown and dropped, ripe and sweet to the grasses beneath. They had eaten some, until the rest had hardened and they could trade the gold for goats, sheep, pigs, cows, and chickens. Thor had been forced to go all the way to Egypt before the gold had been worth anything in barter. The smaller villages in the north could not use anything which did not feed or clothe them directly.
“You’ll give Sif my regrets, that I could not meet her myself.”
Odin smiled. “Sif will be too busy settling into her home to miss you, I think. But if there is anything she requires, I will provide it.”
As much as he missed his wife, he was curious about this world and the gods within it. He looked forward to meeting the others. Sif would understand; he had journeyed often in the old worlds. “Give her my love.”
“If she doesn’t know she has it by now, then my words will be of little consequence, but I will tell her.” Odin clapped him on the back and rose. “Take as much of the gold as you can carry. We will wait for your return.”
Thor nodded and finished his mead, counting the apples left on the ground. He would go back to Egypt and turn some of it into goods. Food and clothes, and perhaps a good horse to make the traveling easier. Egypt was full of gods. He had caught a glimpse of the old one, Ra, when he had been there last, and it was only right that he pay his respects to the vow-holder of the Covenant first.
“You and your people are most welcome to the Northlands, Thor,” Ra said. They walked the dusty streets of the capital city. Ra had given Thor a tour of the Pharaoh’s palace earlier, and the temples to the gods, all filled with gold and bright murals showing the history of Egypt. “Tell your father his claim will be known, and he can rest assured none will challenge him there. But you know the people are few in that area?”
“There were none left in the world we came from,” Thor said. “Odin is a fair god, good to those who would follow him. Word will spread, and the villages that already exist in those lands will be nurtured.”
Ra nodded, his brown face lined from the sun. “You would be surprised how many gods have not learned the value of patience.”
Thor smiled, his eye caught by a woman carrying a water jug. She was very beautiful, her eyes a striking shade of green he had never seen before. He paused to watch her, and felt Ra stop with him. There was something odd about her aura. Something not quite right about the shift of light and shadow…
“She is very unusual, isn’t she?” Ra asked, a smile in his voice.
The woman stopped at the well, setting down the jug, and for the first time, Thor saw the small swell of her stomach. But a pregnancy did not account for the golden glow, or the presence he felt from her. She was sunlight and spring rains. “She’s not mortal.”
“No,” Ra agreed. “Not at all. But she lives like one. And seems not to realize our presence in the world.”
He grunted, watching her lower a bucket into the well and struggle to raise it back up. “Do you know her?”
Ra shrugged. “Only from the time she has spent among my people. She’s rarely born here.”
“Born?” Thor frowned. Once born of their parents, gods lived eternities. Longer still, if they possessed the right magic. Like golden apples and ambrosias, or better, the belief of a people. Prayers were powerful.
“She’s the True God’s daughter, from what I can tell. He made her to age and die like a mortal, to be reborn again somewhere else, every century or so. In this life, she is known as Yocheved.” Ra began to walk again, and Thor had no choice but to move with him, though he wished he could have stayed another moment. “In the tradition of the Hebrews, she would be called Eve. There’s another, a man who would be called Adam. But he is not so benign a presence.”
“I’ve never seen anyone like her.” Thor glanced back, but she was no longer in sight. He could still feel her there, and leaving her behind made him feel colder, somehow. He straightened, and forced himself not to drag his feet.
“It’s a shame about the baby,” Ra said absently, his eyes unfocused and distant.
“What about it?”
Ra shook his head, the lines of his face smoothing. He flicked his fingers in dismissal. “The Archangel Michael began a rumor among the slaves which has reached the Pharaoh’s ears. He claims the True God has heard the cry of His people, and a male child will be born to the slaves who will deliver the Hebrews from the yoke of Egypt.”
Thor stiffened, thinking of the babe barely large enough to be noticed in Eve’s stomach. So not only was she a goddess living as a mortal, but she was a slave as well. An odd life to choose, but at least it seemed for a purpose. “And who better to bear the child than the True God’s own daughter.”
Ra frowned. “Michael does not say who will carry the child, and Pharaoh will not risk losing his slaves. He’s ordered all the children born within the year to be killed, along with every boy under the age of three.”
“How many?” Thor asked, feeling the pain of it already in his heart.
“Hundreds, if not a full thousand.”
His jaw tightened. So many, all innocent. But it was not his place to argue. “That is a great shame.”
They walked on in silence and Ra led them back to his temple, between towering obelisks, brilliant as the sun. One of the priests saw them and genuflected, bending so low his forehead touched the stone as he mumbled a prayer.
“Will you join me for refreshments?” Ra asked, waving the priest to his feet.
Thor shook his head. “I have some business in the markets, and much else to do for my father yet. My thanks for your hospitality. I hope one day I will be able to return the favor.” He bowed.
Ra smiled and returned the gesture, causing the priest to stare, wide-eyed at the sight of his god humbled. “It is my pleasure, Thor of the Aesir. I wish you a successful journey.”
He stood outside the small hut, shifting to catch a glimpse of the interior. It was all shadow and brick, a
