Loki's Gambit, page 153
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Steve sighs. “It’s your code name.”
Bohdi shifts on his feet.
Amy gives a tight smile. “The Goddess who let all the evil loose in the world.”
Curling his toes, trying to keep them warm, Bohdi remembers the story. Pandora was a Titan woman in Greek myths. The gods had given her a box and commanded her not to open it. She did, and every human vice escaped the box just before she shut it. In the legend, she closed the box just in time to save hope.
“I didn’t choose it, and you know you’re not that,” says Steve.
Amy huffs softly. Her breath curls in the air in front of her. Her bottom lip trembles slightly.
Standing as tall as he can in the tent, Steve says, “What are our odds that Odin’s forces will intercept us before we get to the Iron Wood?”
“I’d say about one hundred percent,” Amy says. Outside, Bohdi hears the team packing up: shouts, foot steps in snow, and metal things clanging. Someone says, “Turn the engines on to recharge the batteries,” and the snowmobiles rev up. The hum of the engines is so Earthlike and human that it makes Bohdi’s gut twist. A weight of certainty settles on his shoulders, and he feels his legs get weak again. It’s not just their lives that are at stake—or the SEAL’s precious U.S. of A.—it’s their world that is being overrun by an insidious alien power. Earth has more people, and better tech, but Odin has a power that humans don’t have, can barely measure, and don’t understand. And the only humans who do possess that power are here, cut off from the full potential of human technology. “He’s trapped all the magic humans here,” Bohdi whispers. He meets Steve’s eyes, “So he can slaughter all of you.” And Odin must know about the Dark Elves in Chicago—they’ll be contained soon enough. Ruth and Henry are bound to wind up in the line of fire. In his pocket, he finds his lighter; his fingers ache with cold and he feels impotent rage. They’ll all die, here in the snow, unable to protect Earth, or Ruth and Henry, or Brett, Bryant, Laura, and Dale … and it will be for nothing.
Steve looks down at the table and gives a tight smile. “He will try.” Outside the tent someone shouts, “Captain Rogers!”
“I have to go,” Steve says. He takes a breath. “I know you’re not Pandora, Dr. Lewis.” And then he leaves the tent.
Amy doesn’t respond, but her chin trembles and she looks like she might cry. Bohdi blinks. Amy doesn’t cry … not about danger. He rubs the back of his neck. Before he can ask what’s really wrong, Amy ducks her chin and heads out of the tent. He follows her out into the cold, shaking his feet as more snow slips into his sneakers. He sees Claire with a few other members of the team putting tree boughs and stones over Ruger’s body. One of the guys looks like he’s making a snow tombstone at the grave’s head. Bohdi lifts his eyes. The sunset is backlighting jagged mountains in the distance; they look like a rough maw … a mouth that will take them in and chew them up.
Beside him, Amy starts over to where Mills and Harding are loading comm equipment onto a snowmobile. Bohdi takes quick strides to keep up with her.
They’re almost to the two Marines when Harding says, “Bear meat … Glad we let Brett and Bryant convince us to have breakfast in bed.”
Bohdi’s eyebrows shoot up. He was right, Brett and Bryant were with Mills and Harding. Amy draws to a halt so fast he almost hits her.
“Breakfast in bed?” she says. “With … Brett and Bryant?”
Beatrice, walking over to Ruger’s grave with a large tree bough leans in and whispers, “I think that’s a euphemism, dear.” Amy stands immobilized and slack jawed, as Beatrice takes the bough over to the grave.
Where she’s loading a pack, Harding’s eyebrows go up. “Uh… you weren’t dating one of them, were you?”
“We didn’t know if you were!” Mills says.
“No, no, no!” says Amy, throwing up her hands. “It’s just …” She doesn’t say anything more, but Bohdi can hear her breathing coming fast and loud. She turns around and starts walking back the way they came.
“Well … that was weird,” says Harding. Turning to Bohdi she says, “Is she always so sensitive?”
“No,” he says. Without a backward glance he sprints to catch up with Amy.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bowing her head, Amy smacks her mittened hands together. Her fingers and feet aren’t exactly cold, but a chill seems to have seeped through her gear and all the way into her bones. She isn’t sure if it’s prolonged exposure to cold, or if it’s the knowledge of what’s happening on Earth. She takes a mitten off and rubs her brow. It’s what she wanted, right?
She hears snow crunching behind her, and turns to see Bohdi approaching. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
He sniffs, and stamps his feet. “Is this the Pandora thing?” he asks.
“No,” Amy says. But it is, sort of, isn’t it?
Rubbing his nose, Bohdi says, “Don’t lie.”
Amy puts her head in her hands. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
“Look, trying to protect me from the wrath of Hernandez or the U.S. government isn’t really necessary anymore.”
Dropping her hands, she finds Bohdi very close. The steam of his breath is hanging in the air between them. He gives her a twisted half smile. “We’re probably going to die out here before they can get me.”
Amy drops her eyes.
“A secret can weigh heavily on you,” he says.
She looks up at him sharply. He hasn’t been given a hat yet. Some drops of melted snow glisten in his black hair.
He shrugs. “Or so I’ve been told.”
Her eyes drop to her feet. He’s probably right, they probably are going to die. And she is so tired of holding this in. Amy looks over her shoulder. Everyone is busy packing up. The sound of snowmobiles charging their hybrid batteries will muffle their voices.
“Come on,” Bohdi whispers. “What are a few felonies among friends?”
Amy looks back to him. “I don’t care about felonies—what’s right is right … ” Her voice drops to a whisper. “But I’ve done something terrible.”
Stepping back, Bohdi cocks his head “You? Nah. You’re one of the nicest, most moral people I know … even if you get a little touchy about your theories.”
Amy stamps her foot and feels like she might throw up. “No, I’m not nice.”
“Prove it,” Bohdi whispers. She hears his lighter click. She remembers him hugging her and slipping Squeakers in her pocket. He never told Steve about her little mouse and kept her secret about Loki’s memories, too … mostly. She glances up at him. There’s something in his eyes—faith? Certainty? She hates it, and wants to destroy it, because she doesn’t deserve it. She rubs her eyes, looks at the door to the tent, looks back to him, and then whispers, “Come with me.”
Without waiting for his response she goes into the tent. She hears the snow crunching behind her as he follows.
As soon as they’re both in, and she’s sure the door is shut, she says, “I made the serum contagious.”
She glances up at him again. It’s getting dark outside, and in the tent it’s even darker. Bohdi’s features blend together, and she can’t read his expression. She sees a flash of white and realizes he’s grinning. And then he laughs. “And people think I’m trouble.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, Amy stamps her feet. “Don’t you get it! I’ve unleashed an untested virus with unknown side effects out into the world.”
Flicking his lighter, Bohdi snickers. “No, I think the SEAL team out there unleashed the virus out into the world when they had that night of R and R two days ago.”
“Bohdi, it’s not funny!” she says, keeping her voice hushed.
“No, it’s not.” His grin fades. When he speaks his voice is reverent. “It’s awesome.”
Amy looks down at the ground and almost growls in frustration. “Bohdi, I don’t know what will happen. Maybe most people will be alright, but maybe they won’t. Maybe some will change into other things, like Fenrir. Maybe Odin will hunt them. Even the people who are only mildly affected aren’t going to know what’s happening to them.” Amy shakes her head. “They’ll be alone … with no one to explain.” That isn’t the worst of it, but she can’t bring herself to say the worst part. She finds herself desperately wishing he’ll be clever enough to infer the full extent of the consequences.
Bohdi huffs. “Yeah, it will be like waking up and not knowing who or what you are.” His lighter flares again; the flame’s flare brings out the orange in his eyes. Looking slightly demonic, he smirks. “Can you see where I might not have any sympathy?”
Amy swallows. He isn’t clever enough to figure it out, and she has to say it. “Bohdi,” she whispers, “Eisa died because she was too magical.”
At the mention of the little girl she lost during her miscarriage, Bohdi’s smirk vanishes. The light at his thumb snuffs out.
Amy bows her head. “Maybe babies conceived while their mothers are infected will die … maybe I’ve planted the seeds of the end of the whole human race.”
Bohdi’s lighter flares again in his hand. He stamps his feet, and she realizes he’s only wearing sneakers, and no gloves or mittens. “No,” he says. “No, I don’t believe it.” He shakes his head, and the lighter goes out again. “No, it won’t happen that way. I can’t keep a houseplant alive, and a baku died on my lap, and even when I just want to knock a guy unconscious, I kill him. But you fix things, Amy Lewis. You fixed Steve and Fenrir. You kept me alive in Nornheim, and you saved the baku pups.”
“Bohdi, that’s—”
He puts his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes go to where he’s touching her. She swears she can feel the heat of his fingers all the way through her thick winter parka.
“Amy, I was just thinking how we were all going to die, and Odin was going to win … but he won’t. He may kill every single one of us here in Jotunheim, but it doesn’t matter. While he’s chasing us, magic is spreading on Earth. Humans will win even if we die.” He laughs and it’s low and a little frightening. “Odin loses, no matter what.”
He lifts his hands from her shoulders and brings them to her face, but he doesn’t touch her. Amy’s mouth opens, but no words come out, and she can’t move. Fingers just inches from her cheeks, he makes a sound halfway between a chuckle and a growl. Leaning just a little closer, he whispers, “Amy, the only way you are like Pandora is that you saved hope.”
Amy wants to tell him that he’s wrong, but she can’t speak. There is something in the way that he is looking at her. He looks very serious, and it’s scary.
He’s so close and she expects to feel his fingers brush her cheeks, but he doesn’t touch her. “You’ve taken on Odin, and the military industrial complex, and you’ve won … How could Loki not love you?” She can feel the heat of his breath on her forehead.
She looks down at her feet. She wants to protest, wants to push away, but can’t bring herself to move or even speak. Outside the tent, she hears Steve say, “Lewis, Patel, we need to take the tent down.”
Bohdi leans forward, or his shadow leans forward, Amy can’t bring herself to look up. And then she feels his fingers on her cheeks, warm and sure, and he kisses her forehead, just below the brim of her cap. His lips are soft and cool, but heat floods through her all the way to her toes. Her eyes slip closed, and she almost leans into him.
Outside, Steve clears his throat.
Bohdi pulls away. She opens her eyes. He isn’t smiling. He backs up a few steps and then calls over his shoulder, “Coming right out.”
He inclines his head to the door. Amy walks forward, feeling like her legs may give out at any moment. She stumbles out of the tent, into the cold air, and feels rather than sees Bohdi behind her.
Someone shouts, “Patel, we have some gear for you! Get over here.” Bohdi puts a hand on her shoulder, and then jogs off through the snow.
Amy glances up at Steve. He raises an eyebrow. “Did you have a nice chat?”
“Um … I guess?”
He studies her face for a moment, frowns as though she hasn’t said what he wanted to hear, or doesn’t see what he wants to see. And then he walks away.
Amy blinks. Well, that was weird.
Bohdi slips borrowed boots over his borrowed socks. Maybe it is a good thing that Amy didn’t give him the serum. With the way Bohdi feels he thinks he might set the forest on fire. Maybe it’s adrenaline, or lust. Or maybe it’s purpose. He feels, at risk of being overly poetic, like he has ignited. A few moments ago, he had seen the wilderness of Jotunheim as a trap for them. Now he sees it as a vast hide out.
In Asgard, Odin told Bohdi that the incarnation of Chaos was destined to die in pain and fire. Later, Thor advised him to find something worth dying for. Leading Odin’s attentions astray while Earth has time to figure out World Gates, and hopefully shoving a few nukes up the Allfather’s “throne” … It seems like as good a cause as any. He smirks. The ultimate trick, and a fitting way for a trickster to go.
He squints in the low lights. He sees Amy beyond Ruger’s grave, behind a snowmobile, with Claire, Beatrice, and one of the guys. His elation begins to sink. Claire and Beatrice are wearing borrowed clothes, and Claire in particular looks tiny. Beatrice … she’s an adult and has shown herself to be able to handle herself in these situations. Amy—well, weirdly he doesn’t think Amy can die—she just, no, she can’t. She’s been through too much. But Claire is a child, in body and mind. He feels the bite of helplessness again. He blinks. The serum, Amy has the serum in her pack. He sets off in a lope in her direction—and nearly hits Ruger kneeling beside his own grave.
“Whoa,” Bohdi shouts. “What the—”
Jung Park, passing by carrying a large branch, says, “Redman made that.”
Bohdi looks again at the kneeling form. It’s an exact likeness of Ruger made of snow. “Wow,” says Bohdi. “This is incredible.”
Redman himself comes over, carrying another branch. “Oh, thanks, man. Seemed appropriate.”
“You did this in just a few minutes?” Bohdi says. He takes off his mitten, and before he catches himself, almost reaches out to touch the sculpture’s face.
“I uh… yeah… it was… I don’t know, my hands knew where to go. It was kind of strange.”
The stumbling words make Bohdi glance up. Redman shrugs. Redman, like all the SEALS guys, generally exudes an air of competence and confidence, but now he looks distinctly uneasy.
Jung snorts. “You’re an artist, man! I’ve seen your letters home. Filled with drawings.”
Before Redman has a chance to respond, someone shouts, “Park, Redman! Over here, now!”
Carrying his branch, Redman hurries away, as though he’s grateful to escape.
With one last glance at the statue, Bohdi trots over to where Amy, Beatrice, and Claire are backing the snowmobile with the sled over to a snowdrift. Sigyn and Berry are standing beside four other snowmobiles that look like they’re about to be swallowed by said snow drift. As Bohdi gets closer, he sees the snowdrift is actually a giant white bear. Ropes are tied from it’s front paws to the snowmobiles. “It will be easier to pull if it’s on a sled.” Berry says. “Would be better if we had time to dress it, but can’t be helped.” Several of the guys, Nari, and Valli come over, but the carcass barely budges. Without thinking, Bohdi runs over, slips off his mittens for a better grip, and joins in. Beatrice, Claire, and Amy also join in. Even with a lot of people, the bear’s still really heavy. Fenrir watches the whole proceedings quietly from the side.
As she tugs on the bear, Amy looks at the dog. “Strange. I would have thought she might try to eat it.”
“Fenrir ate something before we left,” says Claire, pushing the bear’s tummy.
“What was it?” says Amy, giving a huff as she lugs on a paw. “She must have eaten a lot.”
“A cake,” says Beatrice too quickly. “A yellow cake.”
Claire’s eyes go wide, and her jaw drops open. Bohdi puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head. No use having Amy worry about that. Claire nods and says nothing.
Harding puts a hand to her chin and says, “We’re going to have to split this beast up between a few sleds. Maybe we could use a machete …”
“How about a magic sword?” says Valli. “It should cut through the beast like butter!”
Bohdi blinks, interested in seeing that show, but from behind, someone shouts, “Patel!” Turning, he finds Lieutenant Larson approaching, holding a rifle in front of his chest. To Bohdi he says, “Can you handle one of these?”
“Handle it?” Amy says with a little humph. “Handle it? He doesn’t even need it. He can kill a giant spider with a toy airplane, a kappa with a stick, and take down an Einherjar with a shovel."
Larson blinks.
Bohdi doesn’t feel the urge to sneeze. But he still feels distinctly uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he looks sideways at Amy, “Um, thanks … but I’d rather have the rifle.”
Even though the light is very low he can see her cheeks turn a little pinker. “Oh, right. Of course.”
Bohdi nods at the Lieutenant.
“Here you go,” says Larson, offering the rifle to him. And then Bohdi’s brain does a little short-circuity thing. He’s heard Larson talking in Steve’s office. Larson doesn’t like him, or trust him, but he’s offering him a very nice weapon … Hesitantly, Bohdi takes it.
As he lifts it from Larson’s hands, the Lieutenant says, “What you did for Ruger … ” Larson’s jaw gets stiff. “Thank you,” he manages.
Bohdi just bows his head, barely able to nod. His stomach twists into a knot. He stares at the rifle. Back at headquarters, he’d never been given permission to carry a firearm. He remembers the guys nodding at him after he carried Ruger over the ice … he’d failed to save their teammate, and yet now they trust him more than he was trusted back on Earth.
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