area that had been struck and leaving the animals and the two of them in sunlight.
“Yes.”
“And the rain, too?” she asked.
He smiled. “The rain, too.”
She turned to look at him, almost shyly, as if she wasn’t sure if she should. “Are you an angel?”
Thor grunted. It bothered him to be mistaken for one a second time, but he didn’t let it show on his face. These people could hardly be expected to know him for what he was, and the Aesir were too new to the world to be known at all this far south, but for the word he had spread himself.
“Do angels summon lightning and rain?” he asked.
She bit her lip and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Not exactly. Grandmother Eve told us that the Archangel Michael can call lightning and fire through his sword though.” She frowned and glanced at his side. “Do you have a sword?”
“No.” Grandmother Eve. Then he had found them, the House of Lions. It did not seem possible that two Eves could exist with particular knowledge of the angels. “But in the city where I live, I have goats.”
The girl smiled, and it lit her face and eyes. Yes. These were Eve’s people. And this girl was of Eve’s blood. He could see the resemblance in that smile, the closeness of the line to the goddess they called grandmother. “What are you then, if not an angel?”
He met the girl’s eyes and let his own glow white. “My name is Thor,” he said. “God of thunder.”
Her name was Evelia. For weeks he met with her, helping her to tend the goats, and bringing rain and sun to the village to ensure a bountiful harvest. Freyr might have done better, making the grapes grow larger and plumper, and the wheat taller and sweeter, but Freyr was by now in Asgard, building his home with the other gods who followed Odin, and Thor did what he could do. It wasn’t inconsiderable.
When the time came to harvest the wheat and the other grains, he asked Evelia to take him to the village. Visitors were always more welcome in times of plenty, hospitality less begrudged, and he would be able to help in the fields while he gave them good sun.
“Mama and Papa will be happy to meet with you, when I tell them what you have done.” Evelia said, prodding one of the goats with her staff to keep it moving. The young kid he had rescued had long since grown out of his splint, and charged about the hillside over the slippery stone as if he had never fallen. “Papa won’t believe that you’re a god, of course. You’ll have to show them. Like you did with me.”
“I’ll give them any proof they require. As I have already.” Thor nodded to the wheat field outside the village, more valuable than gold for farmers. “Eve’s people, of any, should know the truth. And I can protect her, if the need arises.”
Evelia frowned. “From the man with the stone eyes. Adam. That’s why we’re supposed to be wary of strangers. No man with gray eyes is permitted on our lands. It’s one of the laws.”
“Is that how you know him?”
“That’s how Grandmother Eve told us we should. She said we would feel him, too, like fire on our skin, but if he got that close to us, it was probably too late.”
“Too late for what?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the goats.
He nudged a nanny that had stopped to graze on a bush. How she could eat anything more with her bag so heavy with milk, he wasn’t sure. They were nearly to the village now, though, and he could hear the sounds of the people within it. Laughing and shouting, barking dogs and bleating animals. The goats heard it too, and for the most part, they sped up, anxious to be milked and stabled.
“Too late to stop him from hurting us,” she said, as if there was no other answer.
Thor grunted. Evelia’s knowledge was vague in regard to Eve and her brother, but valuable all the same. He imagined her parents must know more. He hoped they did, or else this trip to the village would be wasted effort. The golden wheat reminded him too much of
“Yes.”
“And the rain, too?” she asked.
He smiled. “The rain, too.”
She turned to look at him, almost shyly, as if she wasn’t sure if she should. “Are you an angel?”
Thor grunted. It bothered him to be mistaken for one a second time, but he didn’t let it show on his face. These people could hardly be expected to know him for what he was, and the Aesir were too new to the world to be known at all this far south, but for the word he had spread himself.
“Do angels summon lightning and rain?” he asked.
She bit her lip and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Not exactly. Grandmother Eve told us that the Archangel Michael can call lightning and fire through his sword though.” She frowned and glanced at his side. “Do you have a sword?”
“No.” Grandmother Eve. Then he had found them, the House of Lions. It did not seem possible that two Eves could exist with particular knowledge of the angels. “But in the city where I live, I have goats.”
The girl smiled, and it lit her face and eyes. Yes. These were Eve’s people. And this girl was of Eve’s blood. He could see the resemblance in that smile, the closeness of the line to the goddess they called grandmother. “What are you then, if not an angel?”
He met the girl’s eyes and let his own glow white. “My name is Thor,” he said. “God of thunder.”
Her name was Evelia. For weeks he met with her, helping her to tend the goats, and bringing rain and sun to the village to ensure a bountiful harvest. Freyr might have done better, making the grapes grow larger and plumper, and the wheat taller and sweeter, but Freyr was by now in Asgard, building his home with the other gods who followed Odin, and Thor did what he could do. It wasn’t inconsiderable.
When the time came to harvest the wheat and the other grains, he asked Evelia to take him to the village. Visitors were always more welcome in times of plenty, hospitality less begrudged, and he would be able to help in the fields while he gave them good sun.
“Mama and Papa will be happy to meet with you, when I tell them what you have done.” Evelia said, prodding one of the goats with her staff to keep it moving. The young kid he had rescued had long since grown out of his splint, and charged about the hillside over the slippery stone as if he had never fallen. “Papa won’t believe that you’re a god, of course. You’ll have to show them. Like you did with me.”
“I’ll give them any proof they require. As I have already.” Thor nodded to the wheat field outside the village, more valuable than gold for farmers. “Eve’s people, of any, should know the truth. And I can protect her, if the need arises.”
Evelia frowned. “From the man with the stone eyes. Adam. That’s why we’re supposed to be wary of strangers. No man with gray eyes is permitted on our lands. It’s one of the laws.”
“Is that how you know him?”
“That’s how Grandmother Eve told us we should. She said we would feel him, too, like fire on our skin, but if he got that close to us, it was probably too late.”
“Too late for what?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the goats.
He nudged a nanny that had stopped to graze on a bush. How she could eat anything more with her bag so heavy with milk, he wasn’t sure. They were nearly to the village now, though, and he could hear the sounds of the people within it. Laughing and shouting, barking dogs and bleating animals. The goats heard it too, and for the most part, they sped up, anxious to be milked and stabled.
“Too late to stop him from hurting us,” she said, as if there was no other answer.
Thor grunted. Evelia’s knowledge was vague in regard to Eve and her brother, but valuable all the same. He imagined her parents must know more. He hoped they did, or else this trip to the village would be wasted effort. The golden wheat reminded him too much of
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