Loki's Gambit, page 117
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Bohdi shrugs and examines the hairpin. “I’m sure there’s lingerie to handle that sort of problem…besides you’re smart, too.” He tries to break the pin in half. With more wiggling than he’d expect it, finally snaps apart. He slips half of it into the lock and applies pressure.
“So, what was up with Gabbar?” says Amy.
The half-pin gives…too much. Bohdi grimaces, pulls it out, and sees it’s hopelessly bent. He looks up at Amy. At least she doesn’t look mad anymore. “Um, well, he said…that if I was an Einherjar, and we were…”
He stalls. Amy lifts an eyebrow.
Bohdi licks his lips. “Together in a serious sense…”
“In a serious sense?”
Swallowing, Bohdi looks away, “As in married… Odin would probably leave you alone. Bros before…”
He stops and meets her gaze. Oops.
“Hos?” Amy supplies.
“Not that you’re a…”
Amy rolls her eyes. “How delightfully patriarchal.”
Bohdi bends the hairpin back into shape and pulls out his lighter. “I was going to say just plain sucky.”
As he holds the pin over the flame, she says, “At least you get a little bit of a choice.”
Bohdi turns to face her. “No I don’t! I can’t…” Abandon her. Spitting on the pin, he mumbles, “You wouldn’t let go of me in Nornheim.” Slipping the pin into the lock, he releases a hiss of disappointment when it gives too much again.
“I don’t want to marry you, either…” he says. And then realizes he might be burning a bridge, to other not-marriage things, that he actually would really like. He turns to her. “Not that you’re not…”
“I think you’re all right, too,” Amy says softly.
“Errrr…right,” says Bohdi, although the word on the tip of his tongue was hot. “But…”
“We’ve only just met,” says Amy.
Bohdi was going to go with marriage is fucking scary, but says, “Yeah, that. But I thought it could be the backup plan…you know…”
“Plan Z, if you will,” says Amy.
“Yeah,” says Bohdi, glancing up at her. She’s smiling. A little. He scowls down at the hairpin. “I don’t think this is going to be strong enough, heating and cooling it rapidly was supposed to…”
There’s a creak from the door they entered, and the sound of boots on stone. All the hair on the back of Bohdi’s neck rises. He’s kneeling on the floor by the door to Odin’s library with a makeshift lock pick in his hand and he has to—
Amy grabs the hand holding the makeshift pick with both of hers. “I accept!” she says, giving a little bounce, slipping the hairpin covertly into her hand and smiling widely. “I accept your proposal!”
Someone claps. Bohdi glances toward the door and catches Gabbar smiling and nodding. And then he realizes what Amy’s done. It’s sneaky and wonderful; but as he rises to his feet, his legs feel like limp noodles.
Amy leans closer and smiles up at him in a very good imitation of adoration. Running a hand through his hair, he looks down and forces a smile in return. It’s only a trick, a fake acceptance to a non-marriage-proposal. Why is his dinner threatening to make an encore?
In Hindi, Gabbar says, “It is a glory to die with honor.”
Oh, yeah. Odin might kill him.
As they leave the room, Bohdi feels like his heart might beat out of his chest. The guards lead them down a short hallway. Too quickly, Bohdi finds himself facing double doors nearly twice his height. Swimming before his eyes on the doors’ obsidian-black surfaces are gold inlay images of people turning other people into shish kebob. The guards bark in Asgardian and then Gabbar holds out his hand. “Your knife.”
Bohdi reaches into his pocket…hesitates…but then hands it over.
He still has his lighter. And Amy has their phones in his vest.
They’re so dead.
Gabbar says something to the guards in Asgardian. They nod at him once, and once at Bohdi. The doors swing open and light spills into the hall, so bright it burns Bohdi’s eyes. The guards fall to their knees and beat their chests. Bohdi thinks maybe that is what he’s supposed to do, but he’s paralyzed.
In the dimming light, he sees a long dining table with seats for at least thirty on either side. It’s decked out in white and red tablecloths and fruit in golden bowls. Instead of butterflies, the room is lit by candelabras, blazing with flames that are too bright and too orange.
At the far end of the table sits Odin, elbows on the table, hands loosely clasped in front of him. The king wears armor but no helmet. His long gray hair is immaculately groomed. On either side of him stand Asshole One and Two. Asshole One leans in and whispers something. Odin doesn’t move, but he speaks, his voice weirdly sounding right next to Bohdi’s ear.
“Ms. Lewis, you have brought your…friend.”
Amy slips her arm through his. Bohdi feels Amy shiver, but her voice is steady when she answers. “Yes.”
Odin raises a finger. Asshole Two leans in and whispers something. Odin does not appear to acknowledge it. He sits perfectly still eyes on Bohdi. Bohdi can hear his heart beating in his ears, all sorts of unpleasant scenarios play out in his mind. But then Odin says, “You may both enter.”
Her arm tightening in Bohdi’s, Amy steps through the threshold. Bohdi manages to make his feet follow. As they walk toward the far end of the table, he hears the doors shut behind them.
Approaching the Allfather, Bohdi drops his eyes, and notices a teapot that looks like it’s made of solid gold, and delicate white china cups. He smells fresh coffee. He hasn’t smelled coffee since they left Earth.
One of the Assholes bows behind a chair right next to Odin. “Ms. Lewis, please sit.”
Amy hesitates, her arm tightening in his again, but then goes and allows herself to be seated. The servant goes to the chair next to hers, and says, “Mr. Patel?”
Sliding into the seat, Bohdi realizes with a start that he and Amy never discussed what plans B through Y were. His eyes slip to Amy; it may be a trick of the light, but the healthy tan she picked up in Nornheim appears to be gone. He looks to the Allfather.
Odin is sipping an amber liquid from a shot glass. Up close, he’s a lot taller and broader than Bohdi remembers. Bohdi bites back a grimace. On his throne, Odin had looked weary and ancient. Now, the way he sits, the easy movements of his arm—he looks like he could deliver a punch.
One of the servants says, “Coffee, tea, something stronger?”
“Something stronger,” Bohdi says. Amy’s eyes snap to him, wide and round.
Lifting a finger, Bohdi amends. “…Would be nice. But I’ll just have coffee.”
“Me, too,” says Amy.
Odin raises an eyebrow but is silent as the servants fill cups for Amy and Bohdi, place them on saucers, and then set them in front of them.
Bohdi stares down into the swirling brown and inhales. It smells really good. Too good. It could be drugged; this could be a trap.
“Cream and sugar?” says one of the servant guys.
Bohdi jumps in his chair. “Errr…” And then he has a daring thought. Giving a sort of half shrug and what he hopes is a playful grin, he says, “So is this poisoned or anything?”
One side of Odin’s mouth quirks slightly. “You are insolent to insult my hospitality.”
Bohdi bites his lip and lifts his hands. “Actually, just completely terrified.”
Odin stares at him. And then the other side of his mouth quirks. “As you should be. But there is no poison in the refreshments—magical or otherwise.”
Bohdi has no urge to sneeze. He opens his mouth to ask for cream and sugar and then realizes that might look too trusting.
He sits back in his chair and tries to look doubtful.
“I just wish for you both to feel at home,” says Odin. He tilts his head. “Which is why I haven’t had you flogged for failing to kneel. Twice.”
“Ah.” Pursing his lips, Bohdi looks hard at the serving ware. “I’ll take cream and sugar then.” As the servant-guy pours both into his cup, Bohdi says, “This smells really good, by the—”
“It’s not our home,” says Amy.
Bohdi lifts the coffee to his lips, eyes going from Amy’s face to Odin’s.
“But it could be, Miss Lewis,” Odin says.
“No, it can’t,” says Amy.
No one says anything for a few heartbeats too long. Bohdi takes a sip of the coffee, slurping a little bit to remind himself that he still exists; Amy’s and Odin’s eyes are so fixated on each other he’s beginning to doubt.
Neither of them spares a glance at the sound. Bohdi thinks he might snap from the tension. And then he does. “They do have good coffee,” he says.
Both Odin and Amy turn their heads to him. Odin’s lips quirk. Amy’s do not.
Bohdi shrinks in his seat. “Just sayin’.” He takes another sip and looks pointedly into the cup.
“I’m glad you like it,” says Odin. He turns to Assholes One and Two and says. “You’re dismissed. We are not to be disturbed.”
Bohdi’s jaw sags a bit. No servants. No guards. Odin must not think he or Amy is a threat. He gulps. Maybe because they aren’t. Beside Bohdi, Amy slumps and slides her hands into the pockets of the vest.
As soon as the Assholes are gone, she says, “We know about your attack on Earth.”
Bohdi starts a little. She may be afraid, but she’s not playing nice, or dumb, either. He sits a little straighter.
Voice firm, Odin says. “I did not attack Earth.”
Bohdi’s eyebrows hike. He has no urge to sneeze.
“I attacked a few rogue nations who were supplying Dark Elves with weapons,” Odin says.
Bohdi’s eyes widen. That’s a reasonable interpretation…
“Those elves were in turn trading those weapons with Fire Giants. I attacked the problem at the source—and saved countless lives in the process.” Swirling his glass, Odin gives a rueful smile. “You have no experience with Fire Giants and so don’t understand. Years ago, I had the gates between the realm of the Fire Giants and Earth destroyed… If they go on the warpath in the Nine Realms, with human weapons, the devastation to elves, Vanir, Asgardians, dwarves, and Frost Giants would be on a scale not seen since Earth’s last great war.”
The Allfather tilts his graying head. “But perhaps, Miss Lewis, you think the lives of humans are more valuable than the lives of the other races of the Nine Realms?”
Amy sags in her seat. Her cheeks flush.
Odin raises an eyebrow. “Of course, you do not. You are a moral creature, and kind.”
Dropping her head, Amy’s eyes rapidly scan the table, as though she seeks to read some secret in the linens. “But…you want to control everything.”
“Want to control?” Odin says, his voice gentle. He huffs softly. “I want peace, Miss Lewis. I am a child of war. I have seen horrors far worse than were inflicted on the Fire Giant you briefly met today.”
Bohdi inhales. His nose doesn’t itch. At all. This isn’t right. This is the point where Odin is supposed to be having an evil monologue. Bohdi grips his coffee cup in two hands to warm them; they suddenly feel cold.
Shaking her head, Amy does not meet Odin’s eyes. “No. You controlled Loki, you deceived him, used him… You never let Loki know what he was and—”
“Yes, I used Loki. Like I use everyone,” Odin says. “For the higher good. And I kept the truth from him, for his own good.”
Again there is no lie. Bohdi’s gaze flicks from the Allfather to Amy. Her head is still bowed.
Leaning toward Amy, Odin says, “Do you think, Miss Lewis, that you are the only person who has loved Loki? He has been my friend, my companion, my right hand, and my brother for lifetimes.” Odin shakes his head. “It is true, in his last lifetime, I did not let him know what he was, but it was an act of kindness.”
Amy finally lifts her head. “You didn’t want him to know he was your equal.”
Bohdi lifts his cup to his lips, but pauses before sipping, eyes flicking between Amy and the Allfather.
Odin’s jaw goes tight. “By hiding his identity, I protected him. Do you know how many enemies he has made over his lifetimes? How many would like to see him die slowly and painfully while they watch?”
Bohdi goes very still.
“You could have told him at least what he was!” Amy says.
Odin inclines his head. “Really? You think it would be better for him to know the truth? The incarnation of chaos is destined to live a life of struggle. He destroys everything and everyone he loves and brings them despair, strife, conflict, and pain. You think it better that he know he is destined to die in agony and fire?”
Amy sucks in a gulp of air too fast, and stammers. “There is no destiny.”
Bohdi feels no desire to sneeze. His hands start to shake.
Odin leans forward. “His first wife killed herself. His first child was so twisted by the strength of her own magic it warped her body. His second wife divorced him, and still wound up taking an arrow to the chest and found herself engulfed in fire. His sons by her—” He shakes his head.
Coffee sloshes over the edge of Bohdi’s cup and onto his hand. Shakily, he tries to gently place it down, but his trembling hands make it clatter against the saucer. His eyes snap to Odin and then to Amy. Neither of them seems to have noticed.
“He destroyed Cera…with his life!” says Amy, and in the same heartbeat, Odin’s words echo in Bohdi’s mind, destined to die in agony and fire.
“Yes,” Odin roars. “Because I let him.” He leans across the table again. “As soon as I realized how dangerous Cera was, I knew the Destroyer was the Nine Realms’ only hope. And I let him do what needed to be done. Do you think I couldn’t have swooped down with a legion of Valkyries and Einherjar and brought him back to Asgard at any time if I truly wished?”
Amy draws back. Voice quavering, she says, “You only did it because you couldn’t use Cera for yourself. I’ve seen—” She stops, her eyes go wide.
It might be Bohdi’s imagination, but he swears Odin’s eye glitters. Sitting back in his chair, Odin says, “Do you refer to your weeks out of my sight?”
Amy doesn’t answer.
“Hmmmm…” says Odin. “A pity you did not see a universe without me…under Loki’s control.”
Amy trembles so violently her chair shakes. Bohdi feels all the air leave him. That…is not a great reaction.
Odin sighs. Kindly, fatherly, he says, “Or perhaps you did. The trick, between Loki and me, is to find the right balance.” He gives a small smile. “I do not always succeed in that. But I endeavor to try.”
Bohdi’s nose doesn’t itch. Amy’s head droops. For minutes that stretch too long, there is more silence…allowing Bohdi to think a little harder on the whole “bringing despair, strife, conflict, and pain to everyone he knows and loves” thing. He remembers Steve fighting with Hernandez about sending him to Gitmo, and then defending him after he hacked into the personnel files. He thinks of Amy, bleeding in the snow…
No…that wasn’t his doing… But the twelve Valkyries that died on Nornheim, that was. And Nidhogg, the baby spiders, and the butterfly…
“What about Hoenir?” Amy says. Bohdi snaps back to the present. Pushing his bangs back from his forehead, he shivers.
“Have you met him?” says Odin, his eye glittering again. “Do you know where he is?”
Amy’s mouth opens, and then she swallows and brings her hand to her forehead. “No…”
Odin stares hard at her, his single eye narrowing. And then he waves a hand. “It is of no matter. When I find Loki, and I will, Hoenir will come. They are always drawn together.” He levels his gaze on Amy. “I think you would like him.”
Bohdi shifts in his seat. “Who is this Hoenir guy?”
Odin and Amy both turn to look at him. Bohdi’s hand slips into his pocket, he takes out his lighter.
“My gardener,” says Odin, eye narrowed.
“The Creator,” says Amy, turning to Odin. “The third in your trinity. The other most powerful being in the universe!”
“Powerful? Maybe, in some ways. But not dangerous,” says Odin. He raises an eyebrow at Amy. “And I heard that you visited the site of his former house. How did you know it was there?”
Bohdi’s eyes slide to Amy. How did she know it was there? His fingers flick his lighter. Does she have another god-like boyfriend? If she does, should he care? Apparently, he is just destined to fuck up her life anyway. Like he does everything. Squeezing his eyes shut, he thinks of the pictures of his parents, their faces smeared beyond recognition. He’d gone to Nornheim with only one goal, and he’d fucked it up. He is a failure, he is…
“Mr. Patel, are you trying to set my tablecloth on fire?” Odin says.
Bohdi’s eyes snap open. He looks down at the flame in his hand. He hadn’t even felt the heat on his thumb. “No…I’m…”
Dangerous.
“Just scared…” he mutters, putting his hand on top of the table. He can’t meet Amy’s eyes. He keeps thinking of her lying in her own blood, dying in the snow.
He’d almost gotten her killed in Nornheim, too.
Odin’s lips quirk, then he turns back to Amy. “What are you hiding, Miss Lewis?”
She lets go a light, fearful-sounding laugh. “I don’t know where Loki is, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No,” says Odin, eye narrowing. “I see you do not. But you are still too interesting to let go.”
And oh, fuck, now Bohdi’s trapped her here. In another universe, Odin had tried to kill her. In this one…
“Don’t worry,” Odin says. “I am not a man that fears what he doesn’t understand… I don’t want to hurt you. You’re too valuable.”
The Allfather leans closer to Amy. She draws closer to Bohdi.
“Twice you’ve escaped my sight. You’ve seen universes and possibilities even I have not seen…”
The Allfather lifts a hand toward her. The edges of Bohdi’s vision go red. He feels his face heat.
“And then there was the pregnancy, that shouldn’t have happened.” Odin says. “What are you, Miss Lewis?”
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