Hyperion stopped. “Do you know why we follow your orders?”
Layla sighed. She’d had this conversation with people before. “Because I have three spirits and a drenik in my head, and so I have centuries of their experiences to draw on.”
“Maybe partly, but we follow you because you’re good at what you do. You care about your people, and you want to keep them safe.” Hyperion rested a hand on her shoulder. “The fact that people trust you to do those things means more to them, and me, than your age. I’ve seen you in action. I’ve seen you fight for and defend the people you care about. Do not second-guess yourself because of youth. When I was your age, I was under the command of Alexander the Great, waging war with ten thousand soldiers at my back.”
“You want me to go forth and conquer?” Layla asked with a slight smile.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Hyperion said. “I think we probably have enough people who want to rule over everything.”
They reached the hall, which looked a lot like many other buildings in the city. Made of a mixture of light and dark wood, most were two or three stories in height. It gave the landscape a hodgepodge look, but that was something that Layla found endearing.
The city itself had hundred-foot-high walls surrounding it, although they hadn’t been enough to stop Avalon’s attack, and large parts of the walls were now being demolished to expand the city out into the lands beyond. The other cities of Helheim had been destroyed over the centuries through fighting with Avalon. Niflhel was the final stronghold and thus was the place where people now felt safe. Layla was pretty sure that the realm of Helheim would soon be resettled, but the memory of what had happened in Niflhel would ensure it remained a potent symbol of defiance against a larger enemy.
The interior of the hall was decorated with a multitude of colored wooden panels and stained glass windows that depicted various mythological stories about the Norse gods, most of which, Layla had discovered in her time there, were complete bollocks. She’d really hoped there had been an actual rainbow bridge. The reality of it just being a bridge to a dwarven realm gate was less exciting, she had to admit.
Hel was alone in the main room of the hall, sitting in front of a large table with pieces of parchment and paper strewed across it like really large pieces of dull confetti.
“I am trying to take a few days off,” she said. “I only came back to speak to a few people about the rebuild. Please don’t tell me anything has blown up.”
“Not yet,” Hyperion said, taking a seat beside her as Layla hugged Hel before taking a seat on the other side.
Hel ran a hand through her rainbow-colored shoulder-length hair and sighed. Although she didn’t look too much older than Layla, she was thousands of years old. She was also one of the most powerful people Layla could say that she’d ever met. Hel and Mordred had, from what Layla could gather, recently become a couple, which had made Layla happy.
“We need to use the prison,” Hyperion said.
“You want to go to Nastrond?” Hel asked. “And do what?”
“Probably destroy it,” Layla said. “I’m not entirely sure how this whole thing is going to work. Something will get destroyed.”
“Yeah, I’m going to need more than that.”
Hyperion and Layla explained Tarron’s plan.
“That would be quite the feat,” Hel said slowly when they’d finished. “Will it work?”
“Yes,” Layla said instantly. “If Tarron says it will, it will. Besides, it means we get a very large elven realm gate on your doorstep. And no more prison, which, let’s face it, was horrific.”
“It wasn’t one of our finest ideas ever.”
The prison had been home to people who had been corrupted by magic. Mindless creatures who longed for nothing but destruction and mayhem. They were all dead now, but no one had been to the prison since the battle had finished.
“Do what you want with it,” Hel said.
“I’m thinking that what Tarron has in mind is going to make a lot of noise,” Hyperion said. “And possibly bring down part of the mountain that the prison is built on.”
“So be it,” Hel said, standing with a sigh. “Try very hard to not destroy my entire realm. And if you see Mimir, tell him he’s a prick and needs to stay down that fucking well.”
“Not a fan?” Layla asked.
Hel shook her head. “Do you know why he had his head cut off?”
“I can’t remember the story,” Layla replied. “Didn’t Odin do it?”
“Yes, he did,” Hel said. “Because Mimir asked him to. He wanted to know what would happen to him if he lost his head. What happened was we all got a few centuries of peace and quiet. He’s an och, like Nabu, except Mimir has all the personality of someone you want to repeatedly punch. If he’s alive, he’ll probably know something, but you might end up killing him just to shut him up.”
“This bodes well,” Layla said with a thumbs-up.
“Actually, if you can find the little weasel, send him to Asgard. Now that the Norse realms are unlocked again, they’ll need the help. And Odin could probably use someone to have as cannon fodder.”
“Enjoy your time off,” Layla said.
“I’ll be very surprised if something massive doesn’t happen in the next few days. Apparently, that’s the length of time my life can go before a part of it explodes. Do you need anyone else?”
“Hyperion, Harry, Kase, Tarron, Tego, and me will go,” Layla said. “I think the six of us should be enough.”
“Excellent,” Hel said with a smile and left the room.
“So we get to blow up part of her realm,” Layla said. “I wish Remy was here. He’d appreciate that.”
Hyperion sighed. “The foxman is . . . a difficult person to talk to. Everything is a joke. It’s like talking to oil: always moving, always slippery.”
“He has issues,” Layla said. “But he’s a good guy. I guess those of us with fucked-up parentage get one another.”
“That’s pretty much all mythology is, I think,” Hyperion said. “A group of superpowered individuals with parent issues.”
“Well, that’s quite the summing-up,” Layla said as they exited the building.
“Cronus made every mistake a father could make with his children, adopted or otherwise. Unlike the writings that humans are taught, it was Cronus who chained Prometheus to a rock for giving magic to humans and essentially creating witches. And I stood aside and watched, because Cronus was my friend and king, and I didn’t exactly do a good job with my own children. Selene is off . . . doing whatever she’s doing, Helios is dead because he was a psychopath and wanted to help Arthur murder his enemies, and Eos . . . I don’t even know where Eos is anymore. And it’s not just me; it’s every single member of the Titans and Olympians. We all suck at parenting.”
“Wow,” Layla said. “That is a lot of baggage to carry around.”
Hyperion sighed. “Yes. Yes, it is. I’m just pleased to see Hel happy. I hope that once all of this is done, more of us will be able to live the lives we want.”
They eventually found Tarron and the others on the city walls, pointing off into the distance of the plains and wildly gesticulating.