Choking, I gasp, "Is ... everyone ... OK?"
A gust of sudden wind buffets my face, and suddenly, the particles in the air stop making me sneeze. I crack open one eye, then the other. The space around us looks clear, and a handsome bearded older man in a tailored pale gray seersucker suit with a vest stands there calmly. His gray hair looks perfectly groomed. But he only has one eye.
"Perfect timing, Odin," Mom compliments.
ODIN? THE Odin? As in the man featured in Wagner's operas and in the Norse mythology they're based on? Also in the Marvel comics?
"Is that the Allfather?" I ask.
Odin puffs out his chest. "Yes. And you are obviously Heimdall's and Eunice's offspring. From what I know, you are enlightened."
Two ravens dance around his head, chattering away. I'm tempted to call them Heckle and Jeckle, but I doubt they'd appreciate it.
"Yes, yes," he drawls with lazy amusement. "I'm to tell you that Thor, although a little too quick with his hammer, did not do this."
