The squirrel halts midclimb, momentarily freezing before leaping onto the next flat surface and facing me. “Are you serious?” His face is awash with disbelief. “What do you possibly think I could do in a place like this?” He spreads his arms wide and swings them wildly, indicating the blocked hole and the lava river’s opening.
The erratic beat of my heart slows as I realize that was a stupid thought. The idea of this annoying, sarcastic squirrel helping us doesn’t make sense. Besides his apparent lack of care for others, he’s too small. He couldn’t do anything against the fire giants.
I roll my eyes and lean on one hip and attempt to be insulting. “My mistake. A self-centered little creature like you wouldn’t want to help anyone anyway.”
Ratatoskr puffs out his chest, the white fur almost beaming with orange from the lava glow, illuminating his pride. “You got that right. Unless there’s something in it for me, I'm not going to do a single thing to help you.”
I scrunch up my nose with distaste. “I should've known better.”
He nods, and his self-righteousness is hard to miss, coupled with a demeaning tone. “Yeah. You should have.”
Glowering, I wish the sulfurous fumes from the lava river would render this little rodent unconscious. “Then what are you here for, little rodent?”
The squirrel poses his head and plasters a smirk on his face while circling a little paw around his temple. “You are a little nuts. I knew there was nothing held up here.” He rotates his claw some more. “I seriously would've thought you would know better by now. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you.”
“Right. Of course.” I drag the last few words out. “You’re here to bring me a message.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Thank the Vanir! She's finally got an answer right.”
- Chapter Eight -
* * *
At this moment, I can’t conjure the words to describe how irate I am over this little rodent. Only moments before, I’d been longing to see a familiar face that could reconnect me with Asgard. A few short moments spent with this little critter had shattered that hope. Now, all I want to do is push his little face out of my sight.
“So, what insulting message have you brought me?” I ask, leering at him.
Ratatoskr chuckles through his teeth, his breath sucking in and out in short stints of rugged hissing. “Oh, this is a good one. I’ve been looking forward to delivering this one.”
I shove my hands onto my hips. “Then why don’t you just tell me? And then you can run on your merry little way.”
Elan shifts, reminding me of her presence looming over me, attempting to protect me from harm. Even though Ratatoskr is tiny, his insults have the potential to cause more damage than something physical. My heart warms, knowing that she's here for me, no matter what. I stroke her front leg, taking pleasure in the roughness of her scales under my fingertips.
The beady eyes narrow on me. “I have a message from Odin.”
My teeth clamp together, and dread travels through me. I can't help thinking of the last time I saw him sitting in his room, bedridden and weak. He still hadn’t recovered from the terrible vision he had at Mimir’s well.
Pulling me from my thoughts, Ratatoskr continues, “Although I don't think this is a message I would usually carry.” He polishes his claws on his furry white chest. “As you know, I only bring messages with insults. I have a feeling this one carries more truth than an insult.” He shrugs. “But I thought I'd bring it anyway because… I do love it!” He stretches his front paws up in the air as though he's worshipping the top of the cave.
I frown at the squirrel’s excitement and focus on my concern. “Is Odin okay? Is he feeling better?”
The squirrel chuckles into his paw—his sharp teeth obscured by the tiny claws. His beady eyes torture me with their amusement, and I glower and cross my arms. When Ratatoskr is finished chuckling, he pulls his hand away and stands straight, one eyebrow cocked. “You could say that.”
When he doesn't elaborate on his statement straightaway, I press him. “What do you mean?”
“As you know, Thor was injured, and he's in the healer’s care. Hearing the news was enough to bring Odin out of bed to check on his son as soon as he could. Before he decided to leave his room, he was granted some final news.”
When he doesn’t continue, I coax him by saying, “And?” while rolling my hand as an indicator to hurry the story up.
Ratatoskr chuckles briefly into his paw again, eventually pulling it away and standing straight. “And he heard that you released Loki.” The rodent's words were sharp and precise, and his mischief-filled eyes never leave me as he waits for my reaction.
A gush of air expels from my lungs, and my shoulders cave. Shame sends my gaze to the ground. “I didn't…” I stammer. “I didn't technically release him. In truth, he escaped from under my guard.” I hate myself for looking at him, almost pleading for understanding, as if I could get that from this rodent.
Ratatoskr clucks his tongue. “Oh. Don't worry. Odin's been told that. But…” He shrugs. “It didn't make any difference.” The smirk on his face wipes away my fleeting plea for understanding. “You should've seen how deep red his face turned. It could've matched my fur, if not that lava out there.” He tosses his head backward. “And the steam coming out of his ears! Phew! I could've sworn he was a dragon.” The rodent drags out his words, his tone mocking and emphasizing the severity of the actions.
I cringe, dread running down my spine, and grit my teeth. “And what was his message?” I want to cover my ears and not listen although that would achieve nothing. I have to hear what Odin had to say. I can’t do anything to change my actions. I can only face the music and get it over with. Maybe he’ll help Elan and me to get out of Muspelheim if I listen.
Ratatoskr stands straight, clasping his claws behind his back and puffing out his chest. “Your message from Odin is…” He sucks in a breath and clears his throat. “You are the most useless Valkyrie he has ever seen. He should have left you and your kind as slaves. He wished he didn’t allow you into his mind and heart, giving you access to change the way he deals with your kind. The Valkyries without wings are an abomination and shouldn’t be rewarded by serving him and reaping warriors for Valhalla.”
“What?” My jaw drops as I gape, analyzing whether this was an insult or the truth. I have to agree with Ratatoskr’s earlier statement. It’s too close to the truth and how things used to be to think this is just an insulting message carried by Ratatoskr to get my attention.
Ratatoskr holds up a paw, his back remaining rigidly straight. “Don't yell at me. Remember—”
“You're just the messenger,” I finish in a cynical tone.
He drops his paw, and amusement dances through his beady black eyes. “Yes. You're finally learning.” He adds in a condescending tone, “Bravo.”
Clenching my jaw, I ask, “Is that it?”
“No. There's more. That was just a small insult.”