Loki's Gambit, page 71
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
“I’m Amy,” Amy says, stepping around the statue of rubble that covers Steve. She looks up at him. His single eye meets hers, his eyebrows are high. The muzzle of stone and metal debris covers the bottom of his face. Biting her lip, she gives him a tight nod, and then turns her attention back to Loki, stalking towards her with a snarl on his lips.
“You have to know I’m not lying,” Amy says. Loki can sense lies.
Loki’s head tilts to the side like he has a mosquito in his ear.
Amy feels a rush of hope. He’s still in there. He has to be. “My Loki didn’t do this,” she says, gesturing towards the ruins of the city with a tilt of her head.
Loki’s head ticks to the side again. “What did your Loki do?” he says, taking another step forward until he is just half a body’s length away.
Amy takes another step around Steve. “He saved us. All of us. The Nine Realms,” she whispers.
“Liar!” screams Loki. “Loki destroys everything!”
And then several things happen at once. Snarling, Loki lunges forward, Amy stumbles backwards landing on her butt, and a small gray shape goes hurtling from her pocket through the air towards Loki with a furious squeak. Pausing mid-stride, Loki tears Mr. Squeakers away from his jugular. “We’re impervious to your fangs, you venomous rat!” he hisses. He squeezes his hand and Mr. Squeakers lets out a high-pitched cry.
“No, you gave him to me!” Amy says.
Head ticking to the side, Loki relaxes his grip. He looks at Amy and then tosses Mr. Squeakers at the pile of rubble around Steve. A tiny wire whips out and wraps around her mouse, but Mr. Squeakers continues to squeak furiously as Loki takes a step forward.
Scrambling backwards on her hands, Amy tries to think. Last time it was pain that jolted Loki back into control, but this time around, Loki seems to have no vulnerabilities in his armor. Licking her lips, she says, “I know you’re in there, Loki. You have to fight it.”
Shaking his head, Loki rips the glove from his right hand. “I will strangle you with my bare hands!” With a feral snarl he lunges down towards her. She tries to kick him, but her feet catch under her, instead, propelling her backwards. But not fast enough. Loki’s hands wrap around the waist of her jeans. Gritting her teeth, she lifts her head. Loki’s lips are frozen in a sneer. One hand shoots to her neck as he pulls her towards him. Closing her eyes, Amy tries to scramble backwards with all her might. Gravel goes skidding, but an instant later both Loki’s hands are around her throat. Wrapping her hands around his forearms, Amy gasps for air and tries to wiggle out of his grasp. For a moment he squeezes. Hard. Eyes still closed, Amy gags, chokes, kicks and scrambles.
And then his grip relaxes just slightly.
Amy opens her eyes, gasping for breath. Mr. Squeakers is still chittering madly. She can hear pebbles falling as Steve struggles against his bonds. The troll roars in the distance.
She has to reason with Loki, she—
All words die in her throat. Loki is no longer sneering. His eyes are wide and horrified. Releasing her, he falls back onto his haunches and clutches his hands to his head. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he lets out a strangled scream. “If it hurts you so much, get out! Get out! Leave me alone!” He lifts his head and lets out another scream. The anguish in his cry is so palpable, Amy feels her eyes prickle, and a weight settle on her chest like the pain is her own.
Dropping his hands, Loki bangs his fists against the ground. Rocking on his heels, voice cracking, he shouts. “Stop ... .Get out ... Stop ... .Stop ... everything!”
The sound of the wind stops. So does Mr. Squeakers’ furious tirade. Amy glances at Steve. His eye is closed, as though he’s been caught mid-blink. Even the clouds of black ash wafting in the sky have stilled. In front of her, Loki is bent over so far his head is on the ground; his body and armor no longer have Cera’s eerie glow. With a cry, he wrenches his helmet from his head and tosses it aside. It catches in midair and stays suspended.
Face to the ground, he whispers, “Amy?”
She hesitates only a moment before scooting closer to him. Lifting his head, Loki meets her eyes for an instant. His ginger hair is soaked with sweat and flattened against his skull. Averting his eyes quickly, he whispers, “I hurt ... make it stop.”
“Where?” says Amy.
A bitter smile touches the side of his mouth. Loki chuckles—the pitch too high, bordering on hysterical. “Here,” he says, touching his chest.
Oh.
“I destroy everything beautiful,” he whispers. “I killed Nari, Valli, and Sigyn. It ... everything ... hurts ... ” Clutching his head again, he looks down.
The real loves of his life. Amy releases a breath.
Looking up, he says, “And almost the two of you.” He lifts a hand to her cheek but pulls away at the last moment, as though he is afraid to touch her. Through the grime and soot on his face, there are the tracks of tears. He tilts his head. “I didn’t know, Amy. I didn’t know ... ”
She’s never seen Loki cry. Her Loki faced death with a wink and a smirk.
Amy brings a hand to his arm, not knowing what to say. When he doesn’t react she edges closer, drops her head to his shoulder and wraps her arms around him. Closing her eyes, she squeezes him tight. She swears she can feel his heart beating beneath his armor. But maybe it is her own.
His body jerks away from her. Taking a long breath, Loki lets loose a whine, and begins to rock back and forth again on his heels. “Cera’s coming back ... How do I make her go away? How did I defeat her?”
“With a big bang,” says Amy, laying a hand on his shoulder. The moment has become surreal. Maybe this is all a weird dream? Taking a breath, she says, “You took her into the In-Between and—”
“That ... that might work,” Loki says, his eyes darting side to side as though waiting for something to lunge at them from out of the gloom.
“You killed yourself in the process,” Amy says. “Maybe this time—”
Loki grabs her arm. “I have to get you both out of here,” he says.
“I came through the In-Between ... ” Eyes widening, Amy says, “Maybe you can just drop Cera off in the In-Between and come with me back to my universe?” She likes the feeling of solidity beneath her hand. And if it is a dream, it doesn’t hurt to ask.
Loki looks at her, his eyes unfocused. He nods once, and then staggers to his feet, pulling her up by her arm. “Must be your sword that made you cross ... not much time.”
“What about Steve and Mr. Squeakers?” says Amy.
Dropping her arm, Loki spins awkwardly and nearly falls over. Pulling out his own sword, he strikes the metal and stone crawling up Steve’s body. The heavy bonds crumble but Steve remains suspended in midair, eye still closed. Dropping his sword, Loki darts a hand into the rubble and pulls out Mr. Squeakers. The little mouse gives a squeak and Loki tosses him in Amy’s direction.
As Amy catches her mouse, Loki glances at Steve. “He’ll be alright ... when time starts again ... better even, with me gone ... ”
Amy looks up worriedly, but Loki has his head bent, focused on the sword from her universe.
“Not much time,” Loki says. Scrambling to pick up Amy’s sword, Loki mutters, “The sword in my universe doesn’t cross universes. Has to be something in yours ... has to be ... ”
As he picks up her sword, Loki’s body seizes. His eyes go wide, and his whole body shudders. With a grunt, he shakes himself. Head ducked down, not meeting Amy’s gaze, he catches her around the waist. Pressing Laevithin into her hands, he whispers into her hair, “I would take care of you.”
“Loki—” she starts to say.
“But this is the best I can do,” he says.
The air shimmers and they are weightless, suspended in the vacuum of the In-Between. The glow of Laevithin is the only light in the darkness. Amy tries to press herself closer to Loki, but even as she does, he gives her a violent shove that sends her floating off into the darkness. Drifting alone, Laevithin in her grip, Amy turns her head. Loki is floating away from her in the nothing. The eerie light of Cera is rushing up his arms towards his face. Where Cera’s light hasn’t touched him he’s completely blue.
Eyes on her, he opens his mouth in a silent scream. Only one word crosses his lips and even Amy can read it. Go!
She tries to call out to him in the silence but his eyes have left hers and light is surging through his body. She thinks she sees him smile.
She gives a silent cry of despair. There has to be a universe where Loki doesn’t have to die.
Gravity catches her and she falls, her scream of “No!” ringing in her ears.
Chapter Three
Amy lands with a loud thunk of metal. Something gives slightly beneath her backside, her head falls backwards, there is a crack of plastic, and dull pain where her head connected with ... whatever. Jumping beans are having a fiesta in her tummy again, and Amy has to work to keep from retching. Screwing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath, she concentrates and wills away the nausea. She notes the air smells like exhaust and wet snow, and she hears the sounds of traffic. Her eyes bolt open. She’s facing the back end of an alley. It takes a moment, but she recognizes it—it’s the alley outside the new headquarters.
She laughs aloud, for a moment the horror of the last few minutes vanishing. She made it back!
With a heavy breath of relief, she looks down. She’s landed on top of a minivan. Checking behind her, she sees she’s shattered a light on the minivan’s roof. It’s a minivan cab.
The front door of the cab opens and a familiar face emerges. “Miss?” says Bohdi, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Hadn’t Steve said he’d quit smoking?
“Ummm ... ” His gaze falls to something in her hand. His skin, normally a shade of warm caramel, goes sallow, and he jumps out and takes a few steps back.
She follows his gaze to Laevithin, pulsing faintly in her hand. “Oh,” she says. “Don’t worry, we’ll just take it back to Steve and—”
“Are you a Valkyrie?” he says.
“Pardon?” says Amy.
Holding up his hands, Bohdi backs a little farther away. “Because, you know, there really is no reason a valkyrie would want to have anything to do with me ... ”
Amy’s brow furrows. Didn’t Steve tell her that Bohdi had an odd sense of humor sometimes? Nose wrinkling in disapproval, she shakes her head. “This is no time to joke. I just traveled to another universe and back and watched Loki die all over again and—”
“Loki?” he squeaks.
“—and it sucked,” Amy says, breath rushing out of her.
Bohdi just stares at her, his eyes wide under shaggy black bangs. He looks like a confused puppy.
Amy feels her chest constrict. Oh, no. “Do you know me?” she asks, tentatively.
Bohdi shakes his head.
She touches her chest. “Amy Lewis. Does the name ring any bells? I was ... ” She takes a deep breath, fighting back a wave of panic. “ ... Loki’s friend.”
“Loki!” Bohdi says, taking a step back.
“Yes,” says Amy, looking down at her clothes. She’s covered in ash. “I know you don’t have reason to think fondly of him ... ”
“Errrr ... ” says Bohdi.
“ ... but to me, he was ... ”
“Um ... ” says Bohdi.
A voice with an audible smirk sounds from behind her. “To you, I was what?”
Amy turns her head. Standing in the alley near the street is Loki. He is wearing a gray suit with a pink shirt, no tie, and a long wool coat. His hair is ginger and he’s sporting a tidier haircut than Amy’s ever seen on him. Her eyes widen. Beyond him the buildings are whole, and the sidewalk is crowded with people passing by in business attire. Cera—the battle on LaSalle Street, that hasn’t happened—she’s not home.
In a daze, she slides off the cab’s roof. “You’re alive!” Amy says. Even if part of her mind is screaming, warning her that this is not right, she is not home, after watching Loki die not once, but twice, it feels like a miracle, a reprieve, just to see him again.
Raising an eyebrow, he puts a cell phone to his ear and speaks in Asgardian. “Yes, Skadi, I found the source of the disturbance.” His eyes fall to Laevithin. “I think I’ll question her myself.”
Beside her, Bohdi whispers, “Hop in the cab, there’s still time to—”
Amy begins walking towards Loki. At first slowly, but with every step her feet gain speed, and suddenly she is running towards him, ready to wrap her arms around him as soon as their bodies collide. She reaches him—but their bodies don’t collide—instead she passes right through one of his illusions. Drawing to a halt, she looks frantically from side to side.
Immediately behind her, Loki says, “Were you really just trying to charge me with a sword?”
Gasping, she looks down. She’s still holding Laevithin. Blushing and turning in the direction of Loki’s voice, she turns the blade so the handle is up.
Loki glares at her, cell phone clutched to his ear.
From his phone she hears a feminine voice speaking Asgardian. “Are you sure you can handle this?”
Wincing, Amy holds the handle towards Loki. “Here,” she says. “I really don’t know how to use one of these things.” She’s vaguely aware of Bohdi slinking back into his cab.
Taking the handle, Loki speaks into the phone, “No, I’ve got this.” Snapping the phone closed, he looks at the sword, and back up at Amy.
Bouncing nervously on her heels, Amy says, “It’s sort of yours anyway.”
With a sidelong glance at her, he raises the sword before him. In a reverent whisper he says, “More than my sword, I think. The only thing I’ve seen stronger is Cera herself.”
“Don’t touch Cera!” Amy exclaims. “She’ll kill you! I know it! I’ve seen it twice! Schrödinger’s cat, multi-universes, they’re real!”
Loki looks to her, both his eyebrows raised. “I think you and I may have a few things to talk about.”
“Yes!” says Amy. Maybe this Loki she can save.
He backs towards the wall, sword upraised, and turns his head. “But first to deal with that miscreant you were talking to—”
Amy follows Loki’s gaze down the alley just in time to see Bohdi’s cab jolt into reverse and turn backwards around a corner.
“Oh, he’s fine. I don’t think he knows me in this universe. I don’t think he matters,” says Amy. She blinks. “Not that he doesn’t matter, that sounds bad, I mean, I’m not sure.” Scrunching her eyes shut, she says, “Never mind, Schrödinger’s cat caught my tongue.”
When she opens her eyes, Loki is staring at her, one eyebrow cocked. He glances quickly at the sky and grabs her wrist. Reeling her in so her back is to his chest, Laevithin’s blade uncomfortably close to his nose, he says, “Time to go.”
Her ears pop, there is a rush of air, and they are in the In-Between for less than a heartbeat, and then they are standing in a rather well-appointed room, both taking deep breaths. Amy’s eyes fall on a leather couch with a magazine draped haphazardly over an arm, a free-standing fireplace, and an end table with a glass half-full of water. Her face falls a little. It’s obviously a living room, but it isn’t her Loki’s living room with bright floor-to-ceiling windows. The windows in this apartment stretch only from midway up the walls to the ceiling, and they’re covered in thick drapes. It is impressive, though. Opulent even.
She’s about to pull away from Loki, to look around a little more, and then remembers she probably needs to support him. Placing her free hand firmly on his forearm, she prepares for him to stumble and sway.
Instead he stands unwavering, blade upraised before him, staring down at her hands.
“You’re not tired by the trip through the In-Between?” Amy says.
Loki’s gaze moves to her eyes.
Blinking, she says, “Normally when you take me through the In-Between, it leaves you exhausted.” Her eyes go to the blade. “Oh,” she says. “You used Laevithin as a battery!”
Loki tilts his head to the side and looks down where he’s still clutching her wrist. He meets her gaze again and then withdraws his hand as though she’s burned him.
She runs a hand nervously through her hair. It’s become tangled and—she looks down at her hand—it’s coated with grime. “Ugh, there was fallout in the last universe,” she says, her voice catching slightly.
“You know me, but I don’t know you ... Miss?” Loki says.
“Amy,” says Amy, lifting her eyes. “Amy Lewis.”
“And how precisely do you know me, Miss Lewis?” he says, stepping in front of her and making his body a wall between her and the living space beyond.
Reflexively taking a step back, Amy’s eyes go unfocused and her stomach lurches. “I’m going to throw up,” she says.
With a sigh, Loki spins her around by the shoulders and says, “This way.”
Amy pushes away from the counter, her arms shaking. She’s just spent the last few minutes dry heaving into Loki’s kitchen sink. Her body is still trembling from the exertion. Way to make an impression.
Covering her eyes with her hands, she turns and leans back against the counter. “Sorry,” she says. “I’ve just traveled through the In-Between to two separate universes. The walk through the In-Between with you just seemed to be the final straw.”
Dropping her hands, she sees Loki leaning against the counter, one hand on his chin. At her words his head jerks as though he’s surprised, but he says nothing.
“Strange,” says Amy, looking at her feet. “That we stayed in the same universe when you held the sword ... ”
She looks up at him. “You know I’m not lying but you probably think I’m crazy.”
Tilting his head, Loki says, “Maybe not.” And then he shakes himself and goes to a cabinet. “Where are my manners? Would you like some water?”
“Umm ... yeah,” she says, suddenly feeling the dryness in her throat and lips.
As he pulls out a glass and fills it with water from a tap in the refrigerator, she says, “Maybe I should start at the beginning? In my world we met when Odin tried to execute your sons for political activism.”
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