“Perhaps not, but you did.” He crossed his arms. “Please tell me what she said.”
She nodded, a look of resolve smoothing her features. “I met Frigg for dinner in New Orleans a few days ago. I had a craving for Antoine’s Oysters Rockefeller. Have you tried them?”
“Can’t say that I have.” His left foot began tapping against his will, so he shifted his weight to stop the thumping.
“Something about the city, the atmosphere—and maybe the free-flowing wine—made her spout a prophecy right there in the restaurant.”
His pulse slowed to a manageable speed as he took a deep breath. Frigg, the goddess of fate and motherhood, had the gift of clairvoyance. She could see into anyone’s future and offer guidance if their current path in life would lead to a tragic end. It took an elaborate ceremony and tons of offerings for her to even consider a request, but when she did offer her services, the advice was clear and succinct.
Prophecies, though? Frigg never gave names, dates, or anything helpful at all when she went into her glazed-eyed, trance-like state and rattled off some obscure message she’d received from the ether.
“Ninety percent of the time, no one can figure out what she means until ‘the thing’ has already happened.” He made air quotes. “What makes you think it applies to me?”
Eostre straightened. “The prophecy is this…”
Balance dies when birds lie.
Forget the past. Destiny is awry.
An act of hubris is all it takes to bring about the end of days.
A goddess, nay, her right-hand man will leave this land to devise a plan.
A sacrifice, giving up one life, can stop the war and end our strife.
In Yggdrasil’s name, our sacred tree, as Fate has willed it, so mote it be.
“Well, that…” He scrunched his brow and tapped his right foot. Sure, he could see why Eostre might assume it applied to him in a way, but…
“You aren’t the only goddess with a ‘right-hand man’. It could be about anyone.”
“Yes, but most don’t leave our realm, lest the angels swoop in and try to bring about Ragnarök again.Youleave every year.”
“Because it’s in my job description. Santa leaves his realm every year too. Maybe the prophecy is about him and Odin.”
“It specifically said ‘goddess.’”
“The Tooth Faery then.”
“She also works for Odin…and she’s not a man.”
He sighed. “‘Right-hand man’ is a generic term.”
She raised her hands in surrender. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I just…” She clamped her mouth shut.
“You just have a foreboding feeling. I get it.” He shrugged and let his arms fall to his sides. “But let’s remember not to take it literally. If she did mean me, I don’t know what act of hubris I could commit. I know I’m not perfect, and no one is giving up their life on my watch.”
She nodded. “Will you stay on high alert?”
“I always am.” His other form was a prey animal, after all. He couldn’t help but watch his back constantly.
“Mr. Hasen, sir?” Max frantically rapped on the office door. “We have a problem.”
Pete opened it and found theelfenraccoon wringing his tiny hands. Max bounced his gaze between Pete and Eostre, his jaw trembling.
“What’s the problem?” Pete squatted and rested a hand on his back.
“I called the henhouse like you asked, but…there won’t be any eggs this year.”
