Chance

By Patti Larsen

How can Eve stop a war when it’s all her fault...?

Chaos Rising

Odin’s single blue eye bulged while the storm over my curls burst into life, lighting striking the rough stone beneath my feet. Three stars fell from my neckline, high pitched squealing like the death of fireworks silencing everyone in the throne room.

“ENOUGH.” I hated shouting and only let that one word out at the same volume Odin had used. The mist pooled around me, swirling in angry puddles at my feet while the storm descended further while I dropped my voice to a more conversational level. “I came to talk, Odin. Not to argue. Are you done being rude or should I just go home?”

Oh, Eve, Seth sighed in my head.

Eve’s struggle to prove herself continues while the Pantheons do their best to make her life miserable. But when a mysterious ailment seeps power from the Crosspath, Eve must put aside her worries that her actions might cause further damage in favor of assembling the missing pieces of Chaos before the hub of Creation fails.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Jul 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781988700625

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Chapter One

Everything about the towering, thundering, one-eyed god before me made my jaw ache from clenching too tight. Odin of the Æsir’s pompous bellowing he considered necessary for our conversation jarred my nerves from the instant I set foot in Valhalla. Yes, the instant. The moment I passed the stone door capped with stylized dragon heads, a puff of chilled air sending a spate of snow out to land on the hem of my jeans his big, deep voice beckoned me into his realm.

COME, CHAOS, he hollered like a bullhorn had been permanently embedded in his throat. GREET THE ALLFATHER.

And he hadn’t shut up since. Not for the five minutes it took me to cross the bulky stone bridge into Valhalla. Mist rose from hot springs lining the promenade on the way to the dragon capped rock palace with a pair of big chested blondes standing out front. The shield maiden’s braids hung over both shoulders across protruding breast plates that left nothing to the imagination. I endured Odin’s booming rant all the way up the wide steps to the foyer of his home.

I shivered in the cold, not out of unhappiness with the temperature but because if I didn’t I’d instead lose control of my rapidly heating temperature and embracing the chill seemed the smarter choice.

Odin wasn’t alone, though he chose his full sized persona to greet me. A dark leather patch studded with steel rivets covered his right eye, fur bulking his well-proportioned upper body in a tunic of some kind of creature whose silver skin graced Odin’s towering form. I was absolutely certain whatever animal that hide came from likely deserved to wear it far more than this posing lord of the Norse Pantheon.

My only saving grace as the minutes ticked by and my tolerance for this blowhard old sack of ego was the silent, calm presence of Seth. My advisor seemed unaffected by Odin’s blustering. Continuing chatter thundered out at a volume so loud I quickly lost interest and instead focused on the headache his yelling had started between my eyes.

Patience. Seth knew me well by now, or perhaps always had. He’s almost done.

I dug my fingernails into the soft flesh of my palms and forced myself to listen to the final few words of Odin’s ridiculous show of audible power.

—MY REALM OUT OF THE KINDNESS OF MY HEART. He leaned toward me, the scent of unwashed fur and too much malty mead making me want to throw up on his dirty boots. Seriously, since becoming Chaos I’d grown more and more disillusioned with the supposed powers of the Pantheons and wondered if any of them actually had a shred of politeness or decency to their names. BEWARE YOUR STEP IN VALHALLA, CHAOS—

Was it his puffed up sense of self-importance that triggered me at last? Or perhaps the large fleck of spittle that left his wide, puffy lips to land at my feet? Maybe it was the way the two ravens perched on his throne—Huginn and Muninn, better known as Thought and Memory, clacking their beaks and reminding me of Dad’s old advisor, Corvus and his constant judgments—that pushed me over the edge.

I suppose it doesn’t really matter why. But whatever the reason, the instant I let Chaos have an inkling of control, she roared her disapproval and surged to the fore.

Was it wrong a small part of me reveled in her appearance? I wasn't so deluded I couldn't admit I rather enjoyed her lack of giving one ounce of care or regard for the feelings of others, especially others such as this airbag of Nordic arrogance. And honestly, if I were to examine the moment again, could I swear under oath I didn’t actually let her out?

Well, again. Not like it really mattered once the deed was done. I ignored Seth’s hiss of warning, aware he sensed her rise but did nothing to stop her as Chaos pushed herself upward, taking me with her, a willing witness—all right, participant—as she manifested in full persona.

Odin’s single blue eye bulged, the collection of gods gathered at his throne gaping while the storm over my curls burst into life, lightning striking the rough stone beneath my feet. Three stars fell from my neckline, high pitched squealing like the death of fireworks silencing everyone in the throne room. The two ravens, squawking their protests, lifted off in the quiet and flew a safe distance to the far end of the massive space.

ENOUGH. I hated shouting and only let that one word out at the same volume Odin used. Or was it slightly louder than he’d employed? One upping was Chaos’s choice, I swear it. The mist pooled around me, swirling in angry puddles at my feet while the storm descended further and I dropped my voice to a more conversational level. I came to talk, Odin. Not to argue. Are you done being rude or should I just go home?

Oh, Eve, Seth sighed in my head while the Allfather spluttered.

Will you let this invader speak thus to you, Father? The massive younger god behind Odin’s throne postured, golden mustache bristling. The giant hammer at his belt told me he was Thor, though the god of thunder I knew from popular culture seemed a lot more likeable than this petulant creature. I sighed myself, feeling my anger dissipate, too late to fix this and enough of a wakeup call I regretted coming here at all.

But Odin simply stared at me, single eye narrowing. And then, with a thud from one heavy fist on his throne’s armrest he began to laugh. Deep, rich and full of life. I grinned back, nodded ever so slightly in acknowledgement while Odin rose, shrinking as he left his throne, the rest of his gods doing the same in response to his actions. I waited just a heartbeat longer before releasing Chaos and resuming my own unassuming teen girl persona. Just Eve with my messy curls barely held together by an old hair tie, in my favorite black jeans and t-shirt, sneakers scuffing the stone floor as I accepted Odin’s offered hand.

He towered over me yet, but at least he wasn’t being a dick any longer.

I’d heard things of you, Chaos. He was still kind of shouty, but now he was smiling and at ease, so I bore the volume as best I could as well as the firm grip he used to grasp my arm. I squeezed back aggressively, uncomfortable after a moment when he didn’t release me. I wondered if this streak of rebellion and courage could be true of one so young. And yet, you have proved me false and yourself worthy.

Of him? I almost snorted and ruined everything. Thank Creation, as always, for Seth who intervened by bowing to the Allfather with a smile on his dragon face. It still freaked me out a bit, the juxtaposition of his reptile features mounted so casually on the body of a broad-shouldered man dressed impeccably in a tailored suit and emerald tie that matched his glowing eyes. But I couldn’t fault his professional savvy or the way he seemed so comfortable speaking to everyone regardless of rank.

Time to let him step in and make sure I didn’t screw up what I’d come to do.

Mind you, as Seth spoke to Odin, I was feeling a bit more confident this might turn out all right. After all, I’d made the Nordic god laugh. Who else did that?

Allfather, Seth said. We are grateful for your welcome to Valhalla at this time. Chaos’s initial visit here, in your realm, was our first choice. He was such a liar. We’d approached all of the heads of the major Pantheons when Seth broached the suggestion I at least attempt to endear myself to the leaders now that the Furies no longer wanted to kill me. Or didn’t have orders to anymore. Calling the three horrid creatures on the agenda they’d pursued had driven them off, as had the failure of their partner in crime, Isis, to lay me low with false accusations and sneak attacks that made it appear as though I harmed the realms instead of my wretched former mother. But, while I might have been vindicated and left alone by the avenging spirits of Creation, that didn’t mean all the Pantheons were suddenly on my side. To the contrary. It seemed like trying to make nice would be about as easy as pushing a stone giant uphill in a rainstorm.

Seth refused to quit trying, though, and I grudgingly agreed to participate. My advisor and the first of Chaos’s monsters almost lost me when Odin was the only one who responded, and with a rather rude command that I present myself before him. It took a great deal of soothing conversation for me to agree to this jaunt, and I was actually surprised Chaos hadn’t shown herself earlier out of pure pique.

Restraint. Maybe I was learning after all. So odd, really. The old me, the Eve who thought she was a screw up, who killed those meant to live and gave Life to those destined for Death, would never have considered herself brave or courageous or even a match for someone the likes of Odin. Funny how much had changed and so quickly. And yet, I still felt a queasiness in my stomach that maybe I’d overstepped after all when Odin scowled at my aide.

Don’t try to politic an old politician, Seth. Odin shook his head, thick, white hair blending with the long fur of his tunic. You know full well why you’re here first.

Because all of the polite appointments my aide tried to make were ignored. All but this one.

Truth. Seth tipped his muzzle in acknowledgment. And yet I knew you, Father of all Æsir, had the grace and presence to accept what the others would ignore out of pettiness and ego.

Odin laughed again, and this time his people laughed with him, including the two ravens. The god released me at last and used that same hand to clap Seth firmly on the shoulder. The dragon in man form staggered ever so slightly, and I winced at the thought of just how hard he’d been hit. On purpose? Or perhaps the Allfather didn’t know his own strength. Whatever the reason, Odin didn’t seem angry, leading us away from his throne, past his gathered gods and into a grotto beside the throne room. Not his private quarters behind his throne, but one of his personal spaces, much like the garden in Death’s realm of Undertown. I sat gingerly on a white marble bench, the chill of the stone making my tailbone ache while Seth took a seat next to me. He carefully crossed one leg over the other, hands folded neatly in his lap, polished shoes shedding small chunks of slush with wet plops. Odin paced the low walls of the grotto to the sound of icy water burbling over the stone and into a pool that turned into a dancing stream. It really was quite lovely with the looming peak of Valhalla over us despite the chill and snow, the blue above as cold a sky as I’d ever seen.

I glanced sideways at my advisor, not sure where to go from here. Maybe it would be better to just call this a win and run for the hills while running was still a viable option. But Seth seemed comfortable to sit and chat with Odin while I wondered for the millionth time how I’d gotten myself into this and if I leaned on Seth just a little too much these days.

Thought and Memory joined us, settling on the stone wall, staring at me with their shining black eyes and making me think of Corvus. Death’s raven had disappeared when Kael deposed Dad and stole the Grim Reaper’s persona from him. Now that my favorite brother, Nero, held the throne of Undertown, I wondered if he’d made it a priority to find the missing advisor. I blamed Chaos for the uncharitable flicker of not really caring so much if his fate was ever uncovered as Odin spoke.

You realize your presence here is being monitored. The Allfather seemed uncomfortable for a moment before he shrugged, large, beefy hands spread before him as an apology, perhaps, or an admission of duplicity. That they are watching to see what you do.

My reaction in the throne room, I said. They’ll take that badly? No need to ask who they were. All three of us grimaced slightly, though Seth’s turned to a dragon’s smile instantly.

Perhaps you will relay Chaos’s continued desire to meet and converse with the rest of the Pantheons. He stood abruptly and I joined him, confused by his choice to leave so suddenly. We’d sort of formed a rapport with Odin, hadn’t we? Just when I thought staying was an option… why were we running off now? Our aim is the stability and continuance of all Pantheons in Creation. The reawakening of the Mist realm doesn’t need to mean strife or destruction as is feared by those most esteemed leaders.

Odin stared at Seth for a long moment, face unreadable. I’ll do my best, he said. And turned his gaze to me. I like you, girl, he said then, sounding sad. You have guts and a damned scary persona that boils my blood and makes me want to fight you just to see what happens. That was a good thing? Clearly for the Allfather it was, because he was smiling. But make no mistake, your wakening still worries me. And as much as I’d like to back you, I can’t. His hands clenched at his sides. We’ve too much to lose if what we fear your arrival means for Creation.

Which is? Seth hissed softly next to me when I spoke up, but I had to know.

The end of the realms, Odin said, flint in his tone, single blue eye glittering with ice and control. I hadn’t feared him before. I thought him full of himself and a blowhard. But now, now that he showed me the being he truly was, fear woke as grim determination and death stared at me from that single blue eye. And I’ll do anything, anything, to prevent Ragnarok.

There was nothing I could say. No amount of protestations or reassurances were going to do me a bit of good. And just when I thought I might come to like him, too.

I left without a word, not bothering to do the long walk that would feel like shame, out his throne room and to the bridge. Instead, I grasped Seth’s hand, nodded to Odin and shifted myself through his realm and into the Crosspath. Because I was done, so done.

Only, my aide wasn’t.

The instant I dropped us on the thick, green carpet of the hub of Creation, Seth spun on me in a surge of anger I’d never witnessed from him before.

Eve, he snarled. What were you thinking?

***

Chapter Two

My first instinct was twofold, which goes a long way to show just how much I’d changed from the girl who knew she was a disaster waiting to happen. Side one wanted to beg his forgiveness and hang her head—for what, I wasn’t exactly sure but it was clearly something huge because Seth never lost his temper with me. Never.

The other side? My chaotic and emotionally scrambled side? She snapped her head up with a resounding hell no while the dragon man before me pulled himself together. That didn’t stop him from firmly grasping my bicep in his big hand and tugging me gently toward the doorway leading to the Mist realm. I walked without resistance at his side, the real battle going on within while Seth inhaled deeply before exhaling.

I’m sorry, we both said at exactly the same time. I giggled, a nervous reaction, and he flashed his fangs at me in a dragon smile, sparks in his emerald eyes.

Forgive me, he said then, releasing my arm, voice lowered, private. Mistress, my sincerest apology for such an outburst. It was rude and you deserve better.

Seth. I put as much weight into his name as I could, watching as his slitted pupil flickered toward me, silver whiskers wavering around his muzzle. I lost my temper back there. You have every right to be mad at me.

That’s not why I… Seth paused half a step, startling me, making me stumble before he resumed smoothly like he hadn't hesitated at all. I felt like an idiot scrambling then to catch up. He kindly slowed and waited for me to fall into step again before speaking. Your temper, he said, while a common source of concern, served us well in the realm of the Æsir. That sounded like praise. A lot like praise. I did my best not to grin as he went on. But your blatant disregard for his warning… Eve. Seth stopped again, this time at the Mist door. It undulated before us, beckoning for our return, but he didn’t pass through it just yet, staring into its depths with his dragon face now unreadable. He attempted to provide you with information and you disrespected him by exiting his realm outside diplomatic egress. I unscrambled his political speak before frowning.

You’re mad because I took a short cut? The fact I could travel through the realms this way felt a distinct advantage, one I had used in front of many gods by this point, including my ex-mother, Isis, and the Egyptian ruler of the Netherworld. Surely it wasn’t a secret.

"I was frustrated, he said, soft in his correction, one index finger rising as though to school me, by your lack of decorum with a god who chose to treat you with the respect you requested of him, despite his fears and the influence of those who directed us to Valhalla first."

My headache grew while I glared at Seth’s finger. He dropped his hand, shrugged elegantly, but I wasn’t letting this go just yet. While shouting at my advisor in the Crosspath outside my own realm door seemed far too trashy for someone who wore the mantle of as powerful an entity as Chaos, it felt oddly appropriate to do so. I couldn’t blame my persona for that. No, my need to lose my temper this time, that was all sixteen-year-old Eve.

But Seth wasn’t done. I apologized, he said, tilting his big head down so I could meet both of his eyes under the heavy scaled ridges of his brow, because I know just how difficult this is for you. And I, too, must learn to hold my temper when it comes to you. I have spent eons alone, without access to our realm to sustain me. Awaiting your return, doing my very best to uphold your way and your monsters and hoping that I would prove worthy of you when you finally came home to me.

From anyone else? That would feel like a guilt trip, an attempt to make me fall into regret and the need to make it up to him. But from Seth, never. His genuine emotion radiated from him, his honesty reaching my sensitive empathic field with the kind of truth that made me stop and listen instead of react.

They test my patience, too, he said, faint smile in his voice. "Oh, how they have tested me,