I did have one thing that was mine, something He had given to me. You know how when you were greedy on earth, people would say you can’t take it with you? That’s a lie-you can, as long as your specific deity thinks it’s a good idea. At the bottom of my backpack was a small glass bottle with a wax seal. This bottle had sat in a drawer beside my bed ever since I moved to Tennessee. Kate found it once and asked me what it was-I’d lied and told her that I had picked up some sand from the last vacation my family had taken together.

I shivered – the air had turned thick and chilly, and the road was enshrouded in mist. “Great,” I mumbled, disliking the sound of my voice here; I felt alone even though she was with me.

“Kinda feels far from Heaven, doesn’t it?” she asked, and I was glad for her voice.

“I know. Colder, too. We should probably get going.”

She finished her sandwich and stood up. I squashed a momentary fear of undertaking this mission and momentary guilt about lying to Kate. All right, these were not momentary. But I finally got to my feet and started walking, pulling the chain of the sign of the traveler out of my shirt. I didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Kate, you know all the mythology; what’s this supposed to be?” I asked.

She pulled out her own necklace. “That’s Ygdrassil, the World Tree. A Norse symbol.”

“So we’re headed in the right direction. Good.”

She chuckled. “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“No, you’re wrong, I’m thrilled to be walking straight into Ragnarok, the end of the world. Why would you think otherwise?”

She actually laughed, and my insides unclenched a little.

Voices in the mist caught our attention, but I couldn’t tell how far away they were. They seemed disembodied and yet right next to me, and then thirty feet away, barely audible.

“What are you doing here, Old One?” A young woman.

“I came to learn, Urd. That is all.” An older man.

A shout of laughter from an older woman. “You want to learn? I thought you knew all!”

The man again, amused. “I do not know how to purl.”

“Sit, then. There is a little yarn left,” said a third woman.

“Not much, though. Better hurry.” The older woman again.