“Like why he came back here.”
“Couldn’t it just be because he likes the town he grew up in and wanted to come back?”
“It’s a big world, Delaney. Ordinary, in nature and design, isn’t really a very interesting place, all things considered.”
He was being awfully even-tempered about all this. “You told me Dad waited too long before he chose a side.”
Odin drank coffee, his one good eye watching me over the rim of the mug. I noted the bottom of the mug said: “#1 Beaver Bait”.
I lifted my cup to see what logging slang was painted there. It said: “Ask about my Butt Rigging.”
“Really? No pecker pole jokes?”
“There are more mugs in the kitchen.”
“My dad,” I said. “What did he wait too long to choose?”
Odin put his cup down, and studied me in that way the very old gods do, especially the ones who have known me since I was a baby. It was sort of a mix of patience and concern, like they weren’t sure I was old enough to handle what they were about to say.
“Immortality.”
Okay. That was not what I expected. We Reeds lived a long life. Well, those of us who didn’t drive off cliffs. There was one great-to-the-nth aunt who was said to have hit one-hundred and fifty years of age. I didn’t know if that was true, but most of the Reeds were capable of rolling into the early one-hundreds at least.
It was either gift, curse, or by-product of being a part of keeping Ordinary vacation-ready for the gods.
But immortality? That had never been on offer.
“What’s the catch?”
“Why do you think there’s a catch?”
I wasn’t used to Odin doing the wise-man thing. I was more used to him doing the gruff, crazy chainsaw artist thing.
“Because Dad didn’t immediately say yes.”
“True. But he had lost a wife. Had three young daughters to raise. Death changes every man’s heart.”
“Is that something I will be offered?”
“Immortality is generally only offered to a bridge. That’s you, Delaney.”
“So Myra and Jean?”
“Immortality isn’t their destiny.”
Already I was seeing the downside to this offer. Did I want to live long enough to see my sisters, maybe even everyone that I loved die? Would it be worth it to keep Ordinary safe?
“Who or what will give it to me? If I said yes. Not that I am. Saying yes.”
“A god. Of your choice.”
Something about those words felt ominous.
“And what do I owe to a god who would hypothetically offer me immortality?”
“That would be between you and the god in question.”
“Would you give it to me if I asked for it?”
