“Before we depart, I would like to speak to you about Anat’s intentions,” Odin said, standing in the Haida forest. Beside him, Freyr and Tyr stood at his side.
Menrva, along with Ana, Epona, and Freyja, stood before the king of the Norse gods. Both groups were ready to leave. Odin would head east, toward Nitassinan, while Menrva and her team would travel south, toward the land of the Hisatsinom, where Grandmother Spider ruled.
Ana had her arms wrapped around Epona’s waist, while the horse goddess still looked downcast. Her figure had grown noticeably thinner, her hair looked somewhat whiter, and faint wrinkles could now be seen on her face. Epona had always looked like a woman in her twenties, but now she looked closer to forty.
“I spent a few months living in Tula,” Odin continued. “As you know, I arrived on a ship carrying the last supplies to the settlement Leif Erikson founded in Vinland. When the Skræling attacked us, most of the settlers fled. But I chose to venture farther and farther south, until I reached the magnificent city of Tula.”
“We would have preferred to meet with you before Susanoo and Tania decided to head south on their own,” Menrva said sarcastically. “That way we would have had better information about Tula.”
“Well, a little over a month ago, Anat arrived in Tula with her Malakim escort, so I killed one of them and took his place,” Odin continued. “It seems Anat has the rulers of Tula under threat, and some time ago she demanded that one of the kings who ruled the city be sacrificed.”
“So the man who attacked us was just one of Anat’s puppets?” Ana asked.
“You mean the king of Tula, Tezcatlipoca? Not necessarily. But he is definitely a man being threatened by Lel,” Odin replied.
“I see. Then why does she want to kill Rodrigo?” Ana asked.
“From what I learned, Rodrigo is identical to the king who once ruled Tula, the one Lel considered a danger,” Odin said.
Ana and Menrva stood there in shock.
“Then... does that mean Rodrigo is actually an ancient king of Tula who escaped all the way to Europe?” Menrva asked in astonishment.
“Could be,” Odin said, folding his arms.
“That means... Rodrigo could stay in Tula as its true king?” Ana asked melancholically. Then she noticed Epona looking even sadder than before.
“Be that as it may,” Odin cut in. “Before heading to the Haida realm, Anat passed through a desert settlement near your destination, a place called Aztlán. It seems she has become rather friendly with the king of that warlike town.”
“So... does that mean we will have to face that king before we see Grandmother Spider?” Menrva asked nervously. Epona then curled up, trembling, in Ana’s lap.
“No. I believe Anat wants to give the throne of Tula to that man,” Odin said. “She considers Tezcatlipoca a weak and cowardly king, and that is why she wants him removed.”
“So the king of Aztlán will be our enemy?” Ana asked.
“I warn you—human sacrifice is practiced daily in Tula, but in Aztlán, the scale of it is dozens of times greater,” the father of the Norse gods confessed.
“From what I learned, that god receives daily transfusions of human ichor by the gallon. Even if he does not possess a refined technique like our warriors in Europe, in sheer brute strength, he should be equal to Anat,” Odin went on.
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At that, Epona began to cry and whimper in fear. Ana tried to calm her, but the goddess was badly shaken.
“Th-that thing is coming for us!” the horse goddess sobbed.
“I am sorry for saying it so bluntly, but I believed it was necessary,” Odin confessed, apologizing to Ana and Epona.
“It is better to know now than to slam headfirst into a wall later,” Menrva said.
Odin then made a scroll appear and handed it to Menrva.
“Here. This is the map from here to Tula. The place marked as Chaco is the city you need to visit,” the god said. Menrva took the scroll and put it away.
“I saw the previous map you received from Sedna. This one is more up to date,” added the father of the Norse gods.
Menrva thanked him with a slight bow.
“Father,” Freyja said, “they will not be going alone, because I will go with them.” The goddess knelt before her king as she spoke.
“Little sister, will you be able to fight with your totema broken? ♬” Freyr asked worriedly.
“I will try to find a blacksmith somewhere in the region. Do not concern yourself with such trifles, brother,” Freyja replied.
“Well, that is all I can tell you. Remember, if you need extra assistance, I will send Vidar, Heimdal, or Thrúd to support you,” replied the king of Asgard.
“Thank you, Lord Odin. We wish you a safe journey,” Menrva said, bowing once more.
Freyr embraced Freyja, wished her good luck, and handed her his communication sphere.
“If anything goes wrong, do not hesitate to contact me or Heimdal ♬,” the handsome Norse god said.
“But won’t that leave you without any means of communication?” Freyja asked with concern.
“I am certain they will have one in Adlivun that can connect to Asgard. Do not worry about that, little sister ♬,” Freyr replied with a smile.
The father of Asgard and Tyr bid farewell to everyone with a wave of the hand. Then the Norse gods moved on and disappeared into the forest.
“Now it is our turn to move,” Menrva finally said, glancing at Loki hiding among the trees, unwilling to meet Odin’s eyes. The goddess gave the signal to depart.
About fifteen days passed after that. The gods traveled slowly in order to help Epona. Ana used the cabin each night so everyone could rest, especially Epona, who tired very quickly, since the goddess barely wanted to eat—despite Loki’s culinary talents, which had surprisingly turned out to be quite good.
Ana never left Epona’s side, not even when going to relieve herself, and she even bathed her. The Celtic goddess increasingly felt like a burden on the team. At times she even considered leaving them behind, but the mere thought of dying in a foreign land without support—and of seeing that monstrosity again—kept her from making that choice.
“S-sorry for being such a burden, Ana,” Epona said one day as Ana bathed her in a river.
“You are not a burden, Epona. You will see—once we find that old woman, you will get better, and you will even see Rui again,” Ana said cheerfully, trying to sound strong.
“But now I look like an old woman,” the goddess said sadly, staring at her reflection in the river.
“He will surely reject me,” Epona said, and began to sob.
“Rui would never reject you, Epona. He is not like that,” Ana said, trying to soothe her.
Ana was the one most affected by Epona’s condition. The goddess could barely sleep because Epona would scream in terror during the night. Sometimes the Celtic goddess would hear a voice that only she could hear, and she would fall into a terrible state. Ana’s own appearance was far from good as well—deep dark circles had formed under her eyes, and she was exhausted almost all the time.
“Here, Ana. Viking energy,” Loki would say, handing her an energizing brew called Posca, which was nothing more than wine mixed with honey and cilantro. But the goddess had become addicted to it just to stay awake.
Fortunately, every tribe they encountered along the way was kind enough to offer them shelter. That had been Menrva’s greatest fear, because during her battle with Anat, her supply of mead mixed with ambrosia had run out completely.
After crossing frozen tundras, they began to see green valleys and mountains full of forests and beautiful lakes. Nearly all the land was untouched, and they delighted in watching the great bald eagles soaring through the sky and the herds of buffalo roaming the plains. Had Epona’s condition been better, the journey would surely have been far more uplifting and satisfying.
However, the farther south they traveled, the drier the air began to feel. The gods then changed into more casual clothing, the sort they normally wore in Europe, though Freyja had never really changed her attire at all, and Menrva wore only a white Roman-style dress.
Loki, for his part, had finally removed his totema. The god now dressed in a dark cloak fastened over one shoulder and an ochre set of tunic and skirt, like many Vikings wore in those days when they were not at war. His long dark hair had been combed back.
Finally, the mountains became increasingly barren, and they reached a vast desert with peculiar rock formations. The gods continued their journey until they finally arrived at Chaco, an enormous city made of round houses all aligned with gigantic desert canyons, carved by erosion.