The Codex Lacrimae (42 page)

“You're a bit full of yourself, aren't you?” Old Nick grinned. “For a priest, I mean. I thought that your lot were supposed to be taking vows of poverty, humility, and every other ‘-ty' that Mother Rome could think to make you swear to.”

“I'm a monk,” Aurelius murmured. “Who better than a priest to see your designs?”

The youth frowned thoughtfully, then said, “I'm curious, though: why ‘Old Nick?' Is it because they don't know you by the more ancient names in these parts? What did Saint Jerome call you in the Vulgate?” Aurelius turned his head, intentionally ignoring the man for a moment. “Right, I've got it:
Lucifer, qui mane oriebaris
.
” Aurelius stared directly into Old Nick's eyes. “I think calling you ‘Lucifer, the Morning Star' is a bit overreaching, but Pride is one of your problems, isn't it? If you don't mind, I'll just call you Satan, or ‘Lord of the Flies' — Beelzebub, right? — or, perhaps, ‘Old Scratch' might be more appropriate here in the Norse lands.
Skratte
meaning ‘goblin,' correct?”

“Ah, I think you have, indeed, found the meter of it,” Old Nick said, amusement in his voice. “Is this you, or the Dark Book talking? If it's you, then I might have to rethink my opinion about Hospitallers. If it's the Codex Lacrimae, I've got an offer for you that will be hard to resist.”

“The Codex Lacrimae?” That startled Aurelius. “What...what did you say? “

Old Nick didn't answer, but paused, surveying the restrained youth as if seeking something. “Now, let me see here...what form has that book taken this time? Ah, there it is — so it seems as if you
are
the Codex Wielder.”

His arms still constrained by the flowing water-ropes above his head, Aurelius tried to look himself over, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, please,” Old Nick barked a laugh, “don't try any lies on a liar —”

The large man coughed, then gurgled as the point of a spear ripped through the front of his chest.

He looked down at the offending weapon, startled, and then began pulling it out with exasperated yanks. No blood emerged with the withdrawal, and Aurelius felt confirmed in his guesses at the creature's identity.

Old Nick rose with surprising speed for his bulk to see who had attacked him.

Another elf, clad all in black, stood at the edge of the forest, waiting to see the effect of his throw.

“A-
ha
!” Old Nick howled, and hurled the spear at the elf. The magical being caught the weapon, and dashed back into the forest.

“
Fossegrim
— after that pesky sprite!” Old Nick screamed, stepping forward in pursuit as the elf that blurred from sight. “I hate when elves get away from me — they're more of a nuisance than dwarves!”

The water elemental flowed down the hill in its raging torrent, with Old Nick trotting in tow.

“I heard that last part, but kept my eyes shut,” Clarinda hissed next to him, fully awake, “What were you doing with the lecture on names — trying to bore him to death? If he
is
Satan, we're outmatched from the start and need to find another way.”

Aurelius looked at her and smiled. “The stories usually say that he can only do as much to you as you do to yourself — it's his source of amusement.” She looked confused at him, but he switched topics, speaking quickly. “I was trying to give you some time to wake up. You seemed very confident about that necklace
and
he called you a Norn. I thought it was worth a gamble that you might be able to do something.”

“Well, I can't,” Clarinda groaned, struggling against the bonds. “The necklace worked once, now nothing. Where'd they go, anyway?”

“Another fellow that looks like him,” Aurelius indicated the sleeping prisoner, “threw a spear through Old Nick. It didn't do anything but get him angry, and then he ordered the...
fossegrim
to capture him. They all took off together.”

“Rudyick,” Clarinda said.

“
Mi scusi
?”

“The other elf — his name's Rudyick. I met him earlier.” She paused, frowning in concentration. “Did you hear anything when you were captured by the
fossegrim
?”

“It asked me if I knew its name.”

“Me, too. Rudyick said that if someone speaks the true name of a
fossegrim
,
that'll free it.”

“Not control it?” Aurelius asked, wanting a weapon of some kind.

Clarinda gave him a strange smile, and then said, “I asked the same thing — no, I think that if Old Nick's been controlling it, the
fossegrim
might be grateful to anyone who grants it freedom.”

“So, we just need to figure out its name,” Aurelius groaned, dismayed at the impossibility.

With a thundering stride and torrent of water, the
fossegrim
was back, splashing through the open space and throwing Rudyick violently into the upper boughs of the tree. Now pinned by water-ropes, Rudyick groaned and looked blearily down at Aurelius and Clarinda.

“I had to try,” he said mournfully, “you two weren't doing anything.”

“I must agree with you, Friend Rudyick,” Old Nick chortled as he came back to the stool. “Not very impressive a showing for the much-feared Codex Wielder and a Norn, eh? I think things were much better in the old days when world-cracking threats lived up to their reputation.”

Aurelius frowned and gazed again at the
fossegrim
,
letting his eyes rest on the waters of its form. As with Clarinda's name, there was something familiar here that he thought he should know, and it had to do with the waters rushing through the elemental.

Then he remembered — Grimnir.

I give you that memory as a gift, Boy. Remember the ocean. It's a good word, Hav, and to the Northmen it was everything.

He didn't hesitate.

“Now, we need to discuss the Codex, Master Santini —” Old Nick started to say.

“
Hav
.
” Aurelius interrupted, speaking slowly as he looked at the
fossegrim
.

“
Takk
,
” the elemental groaned in relief, the Norwegian word for “thank you” flowing as a cool, refreshing stream into Aurelius's thoughts.

If the knight and Norn had been assaulted earlier with the force of a tempest, the
fossegrim
's attack on Old Nick unleashed the energy of a hurricane.

At Aurelius's naming, Hav became a wall of water that slammed into the surprised fiddler and cast him high into the air, then down hard into the river. When he hit the surface, all the
strömkarlen
and
nixies
pulled Old Nick down and took him upstream into the vast expanse of Lake Glittertind, where thousands more of the elementals waited.

The
fossegrim
reconstituted itself into a humanoid shape again and, with a nod, the water ropes drained from the four prisoners wrists. He knelt and gathered them in a warm embrace, the waters of his form more soothing than the hottest and most relaxing of baths.

Then Hav carried them all lightly into the air on chairs made of water that sat atop columns of churning lye and sandstone, the spinning water scouring the last of the mud from their clothes and bodies. They were dropped, dripping and soaked, across the river in the glade where Aurelius originally had arrived in Alfheim.

Aurelius flinched when Hav extended a hand — recalling the impact that the water in those hands could unleash — but realized he had nothing to worry about. The
fossegrim
was taking back all the water that was in their clothing, leaving the garments clean and dry. Like rain falling upwards, streams of water flew from their bodies and into the
fossegrim
,
who stood quietly, shimmering slightly in blue.

Takk. Thank you, Codex Wielder. Your gift of my freedom will never be forgotten. Now you must follow him,
it whispered in Aurelius's mind.
He's already escaped my
strömkarlen
and
nixies
in the lake and makes his way to Hela's lands.

“Hela?” Aurelius asked aloud. “The Queen of the Underworld? That sounds like its exactly where he belongs.” He paused, craning his neck to look up. “Hav, could you come down here so we can speak properly? I can't even see you against the sun.”

Expecting the
fossegrim
to kneel, Aurelius was surprised when most of its form emptied into the river and Hav stood before him of a height with the members of the group.

“Thank you...
takk
,
” Aurelius said. “I don't understand. Why do you need
me
to follow him? Clearly, I don't where to begin such a pursuit, and I'd like to get back to my own lands...if that's even possible.” He nodded toward the lively lake, the sight tempting him to stay and explore this strange, wondrous place.

The
strömkarlen
and
nixies
were frolicking there, the menace of their earlier behavior completely lost in the joy at the freeing of their master. The elementals' leaping and diving created a spray through which the sunshine refracted hundreds of separate rainbows. Utter joy had replaced the dread and despair that accompanied Old Nick, and Aurelius saw for the first time why Alfheim was called the Land of Light.

“Is he speaking with you?” Rudyick asked, his tone incredulous.

“You can't hear him?” Clarinda responded as Aurelius kept his attention focused on Hav.

“No,” Volund said, “and I've never seen a
fossegrim
act like this. They try to slay mortals, not rescue and converse with them!”

I have my freedom,
Hav replied to Aurelius
,
but I'm one of twenty-seven Nokken in the world. I need to free all the fossegrim, stromkarlen, and pixies under Old Nick's spell, but I can't because he stole my coral. If you can get to him, retrieve the coral, and get it to the waters of Niflehim, I'll meet you there and you may keep this gift that I lend to you.

The water elemental disgorged a small leather purse from its hip — a leather envelope rectangular in shape and slightly bulging — and gently it onto the grass in front of Aurelius.

You might find use for this when the seas prove contrary or no ship is found to carry you whither you will. Taaaaaaakk.
It said in a whispering voice that echoed with the distant lapping of an unseen sea. Then it waved to the group one final time before collapsing and merging into the waters of the River Perilous.

“It's a rare thing for one of the
fossegrim
to spend so much time in one place and not kill anything,” Rudyick said, reiterating Volund's comment. “We're fortunate, eh, Volund?”

The other elf didn't respond, glaring at Rudyick. “You
ran
— when Old Nick caught me, you didn't even try to help me! You ran!”

Rudyick waved a hand at Aurelius and Clarinda. “Yes, I ran, and what did I do? I found help! Let's not forget that. If not for these two, I would've had to go to another world to get aid.”

“Perhaps, you're right...,” Volund said, “and the help you've found is exactly the one we were going to search for after learning that the Codex Lacrimae was awakening again. The Wheel of Fortune is finally turning, and perhaps this time it's spokes will land favorably for our people. We must make haste before others enter the hunt. We'll ask them to come with us to the
Sviddengen
and perhaps…”

While the two elves spoke, Aurelius knelt to the ground to retrieve the leather envelope. Clarinda noticed what he was doing and crossed the few steps between them at a run.

“Oh, God, not again!” She shouted. “Santini, don't touch that!”

Aurelius closed his hand on the packet at the same time that Clarinda grabbed his shoulder.

Both Hospitaller and Norn disappeared in a flash of golden light.

Chapter 4

The Citadel of Hel

Aurelius shivered. The white, marble floor of the long, cavernous gallery seemed a sheet of ice, so frosty was the chill that radiated through his lowered knee and the toe of his boot. Retrieving Hav's leather envelope and slipping it into a pocket within his robe, he rose to his feet, numbed by freezing air as his breath steamed away in smoke-like plumes.

Clarinda slammed the quarterstaff into his chest, driving him backward.

“Will you stop touching things?” she shouted. “You're not on Midgard anymore and…,” she stopped talking as she realized where they'd been transported.