“Yeah, I’m going for the Edward Elric look,” Layla said, smiling at her own joke.
Seshat stared at her. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It’s from Fullmetal . . . you know what? I don’t think it matters.”
Seshat nodded. “I am going for a shower. Can any questions wait until I am done?”
Layla shrugged. “Sure, why not?” She wasn’t really certain what was going on.
Seshat exited the room, leaving Hyperion, Tego, and Layla alone.
“She’s . . . confident,” Layla said.
“She’s someone who enjoys seeing others squirm,” Hyperion said with a slight sigh.
“Seshat has a point, though; you did look a bit flustered.”
Hyperion shook his head. “It is not her nakedness that flusters me. It’s being in proximity to her. She remembers everything, and if she wants to show you something, she can just reach out and plant the memory in your head. There’s a particular memory of her and me.”
“Oh,” Layla said with a grin. “You guys had sex.”
“Graphically, yes,” Hyperion said. “It was a long time ago. She likes to make a point of ensuring people don’t forget her.”
“That’s unlikely, considering . . . ,” Layla said as Seshat walked back into the room with a flourish. She wore thin sheets of colored fabric that did nothing to hide what she looked like beneath them. In fact, though Layla wasn’t entirely sure how it was possible, she looked even more revealed with clothes on than off.
“You came to ask about the dwarves,” Seshat said. “I have a few hours.”
“And the shadow elves,” Layla said.
Seshat smiled before pouring herself another glass of water. “I can’t drink alcohol; it screws around with my head,” she said. “It’s probably the only thing I miss about my youth.”
“You’re an och, yes?” Layla asked. “Like Nabu?”
“Yes, and I heard about Nabu. He was a good och. A great one in many respects, and I look forward to seeing him again in a few centuries’ time,” Seshat said.
Layla nodded. Nabu’s death had been recent, and it still hurt.
Seshat raised her glass in a silent toast. “As for me, I dedicated myself to absorbing information and putting it in these books. They write themselves, you know, which I can tell you is a trick a lot of authors would enjoy having.” She drank the water in one long swig. “So: the dwarves and shadow elves.”
“Do you know what happened to them?” Hyperion asked.
“Yes, my dear, of course,” Seshat said with a sly smile. “Take a seat.”
Layla sat, with Tego lying down beside her.
“You tamed a beast like that,” Seshat said. “You must have great power. You’re an umbra, yes? You have bonded with your spirits and drenik.”
Layla nodded. The spirits and drenik had granted her great knowledge and power, but in doing so they had ceased to be consciously contactable. She had to wait until she went to sleep to see them. It was something she was still getting used to.
“You killed Mammon,” Seshat said.
“I helped,” Layla corrected.
“Don’t be modest,” Seshat said with a wink. “I can’t abide modesty. It’s the same as being fake. Accept your greatness. Revel in it. You killed Mammon the great dragon, yes?”
Layla nodded. “Yes.”
Seshat clapped her hands together. “At last someone slew that piece of fetid shit.”
“This isn’t helping us find anyone,” Hyperion reminded her.
Seshat turned to Hyperion. “Shush, you. We shall talk more later.”
Hyperion actually went red in the face. Layla hadn’t even known it was possible to make a several-thousand-year-old person embarrassed.
Seshat returned her attention to Layla. “You ever heard of the land of the giants, or Jotnar?”
“Jotunheim?” Layla asked.
Seshat nodded. “That’s the one. That’s where you need to go. I can’t tell you for sure whether the elves and dwarves are there, but the last time anyone ever wrote something about either of them, it was to do with dwarven prisoners in the realm. Go to the well, find Mimir’s writings, or Mimir if he’s still alive. He might be able to point you in a better direction. He’s an och, like me, although unlike me, he’s about as pleasant to be around as a fire ant.”
Layla got back to her feet. “Thank you,” she said. “That’ll help.”
“Not really,” Seshat said. “There are no realm gates to Jotunheim. The giants destroyed them a long time ago after the war between them and the flame giants. The flame giants escaped to Muspelheim, and the remaining Jotnar shut the gates to prevent their return. If there’s an accessible realm gate, I don’t know about it.”
“What about the elven realm gates?”
Seshat shrugged. “No idea. I can’t understand their writing, and understanding their language is next to impossible for anyone who isn’t elven.”
“A shadow elf merged his mind with hers,” Hyperion said. “She can speak the language.”
“Now, that is interesting,” Seshat said with a raised eyebrow. “When you’re done, come back and let me catalog the information. It would be fascinating.” She paused for a few seconds before walking over to the side of the room. She drew on a piece of parchment with a pencil, then passed the parchment to Layla. “Turns out I do have a little something elven in my head, but I have no idea what the writings mean. This is an elven realm gate destination key. I have no idea where it’ll take you inside Jotunheim, but the information has been in my head for centuries, and it’ll be nice to make the space for something else.”
“Thanks for your help,” Layla said to Seshat.
“Hyperion will follow, soon enough,” she said. “There are things we need to discuss.” She looked back over to Hyperion, who gave an embarrassed nod.
Layla made her way back to the rest of the group, who were still tucking into the food that Zamek had brought.
“Ah, there you are,” Harry said. “We were considering sending a search party after you.”
“I met with Seshat,” Layla said. “She’s . . . unique.”
“What did you learn?” Tarron asked.
“We need to go to Jotunheim,” Layla told him. “That’s the last known location of the dwarves. Apparently, Mimir might know more.”
“Ah, bollocks,” Zamek said. “Be careful of him. He’s a tricky little bastard.”
“Unfortunately, there are no known dwarven realm gates,” Layla said, removing the parchment from her pocket and passing it to Tarron. “Seshat gave me this.”
Tarron studied the parchment. “Jotunheim,” he said softly. “More specifically, it’s in Utgard, the capital of the realm. And the stronghold of the giants.”
“How happy will they be to see us?” Layla asked.
“Depends on the giant,” Tarron said. “Either way, this will take me a few hours to prepare. It’s complex and has several security keys inside the writings that mean one wrong move and we’ll be wishing we hadn’t bothered.”