Daji knows this man. Her smile looks like a magazine model's. "Odin Alfather, how nice to see you. And Mr. Loki and Mr. Thor, looking handsome as always."
A quick glance at the guestbook tells the story. Odin Alfather's elegant cursive handwriting appears frequently. And he always adds the same tagline: "I am growing." Also, what looks like some kind of rune.
Okay. No way this man in a Fortune 500 business suit is THE Odin of Norse myth. And the Gothic-looking college student with the long dark hair doesn't exactly look like Tom
Hiddleston from the Marvel movies. His Mr. Universe brother does bear a slight resemblance to Chris Hemsworth. However, blond, tanned, and buff isn't exactly rare in California.
Hunched over, Loki seems absorbed in his phone. "Why can't I get wi-fi?"
I smile sympathetically. "Sorry, reception can be spotty out here."
Smelling like coconut body oil, Thor hoists their luggage. "If you can't get a signal, you can at least pick up a suitcase."
"You're the brawn, I'm the brains," Loki says in a nasally voice. His dark eyes flick to me. "You know all about that, don't you?"
I flush. "I work out."
Why did I say that?
Loki smirks, as if he's just won some major contest. "I'm sure you do."
"I've got brains," Thor protests. "I know not to hope for wi-fi here. It's supposed to be a place between the worlds."
I feel faint. What?
Loki rolls his eyes. "I'm glad you drew a map for the human. He'll need it. He has no idea what he's gotten himself into." But his tone is somewhat affectionate.
"BOYS."
Odin's voice sounds like thunder, and although the sky has been clear all day, I feel a storm coming on.
Daji hands me two brass keys. I notice her orange-and-white long pointed fingernails are painted with fox's faces. When did she go off to the nail salon? I didn't even know she left the resort—she never goes anywhere. Do we have a manicurist on site that does nail art? Add that to the growing list of things I don't know about my inheritance. God knows my parents won't answer my questions. Maybe they didn't even know about my grandparents opening up a bed and breakfast.
As I give Odin one of the keys, a jolt like lightning passes between us. For a moment, I stop breathing. Loki snatches the other key from my numb fingers and gives me a mysterious smile. "Family bites sometimes, am I right?" he says in a bored trust fund kid voice.
Is he in my head?
"I always wanted siblings."
Okay, that wasn't what I was going to say. I was going to ask for a credit card, but I have the feeling Mr. Odin's card is on file. He's probably an elite member. I glance at the file in the antique computer system with a screen that's barely lit. What do you know? There he is. Odin prefers Mastercard. Bank of Valhalla.
That's got to be a dead giveaway.
Odin's stormy gray eyes pierce right into my soul. "You're quite alone, aren't you? 'Tis not an easy thing you've taken on, but it's the stuff that dreams are made of, as Shakespeare would have it."
My fingers are damp as I tug my collar, which feels like it's cutting off my air.
"You knew my grandparents, I take it," I say. Then, to Thor and Loki, "Your rooms are on the top floor. I'm sure you know our restaurant hours, but breakfast is in the dining room from six to nine. Lunch is served from eleven to one. Dinner is from five-thirty to nine. Happy hour from four to five-thirty. We're thinking about extending it to all night."
As the bickering bros head to the elevator, Odin lingers at the front desk, leaning on the counter. I didn't notice this before, but one eye is permanently shut. I just thought he was squinting because of allergies.
"Mr. Alfather, do you believe in coincidences?"
Daji gives a short bark of laughter, holding her sides with those lethal-looking nails with foxes on them.
In answer, Odin quotes,
"Of the gods and the giants goes;
For all time ever open it flows,
No ice on the river there is." (The Poetic Edda)
I blink for a few minutes. "Wow, that's deep."
"The river is ever flowing, Van Thomas. Take comfort in that. As we say in California, 'Go with the flow.' When you have hung on a tree for nine nights after being wounded by a spear and traded your eye for a drink of Mimir's well, you learn to understand life. Now, my boys and I have had a long journey. We'll have our usual sent up to our rooms. Make sure the mead is just the way we like it. And not too sweet for Thor—he's watching his sugar intake. Oh, and our ravens got sick, so they're arriving later this day. Watch for them, and kindly send them upstairs. Don't let them confuse you."
Odin winks with his one eye and heads for the elevator, looking like a titan of industry, rather than the guy that inspired Norse poetry and superhero movies.
I glance at Daji. "Tell me that wasn't who I think it was."
She places a warm hand on my shoulder. "Odin likes you."
"How can you tell?"
"It took him years to say that much to your grandparents." Her bright black eyes are kinder than I've ever seen them. "But then, he probably consulted the Norns and saw your fate."
I flush. Even though I devoured the myths and legends of the world as a kid and even named my first startup Bellerophon when I was nineteen, I suddenly feel the urge to devour everything on the Internet and the resort's library about mythology.
"I'd better go see about that mead," I say.
A woman's agitated voice stops me cold. Hypnotic and enchanting.
"Not before you move me to another floor! I can't concentrate if those three are going to be thundering, singing loud drunken songs, and swinging hammers at all hours. I told you all this last time. I have a deadline!"
Gray-eyed Athena Delfino parks herself in front of my desk and won't budge. And her owl, ready to do battle, flies straight at me!