TWENTY-NINE
ANNABEL
Loki had sired many a monster. As Hel led me from the throne room and into another dark hall, I was reminded that the goddess beside me had less likeness to a divine creature like Freya, and more to the giant sea serpent we had seen as we flew across the Atlantic.
On each side of the large room and stretching as far into the darkness as I could see, glass cages lined the space. Each one contained a faintly glowing, spectral entity. I didn’t need to ask what they were—I felt it into the marrow of my bones: souls from the siphon, waiting for Hel to break them.
“Tell me then, little soul: What do you wish to discuss out of earshot of all those big, strong men of yours?” The goddess turned to me, that sardonic smile still dancing on her lips as she took me in.
“Your re
