Loki's Gambit, page 73
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Amy’s eyes go to the column of light. It is steady and unwavering. “You must be constantly fueling Cera’s appetite with something,” she says, a sudden sense of foreboding weighing upon her.
“Yes. We use your nuclear and chemical waste as fuel,” says Loki.
For a moment she just sits there, uncomprehending. And then her brain catches up with his words. “That sounds ... like a good thing ... for us ... .” she stammers. Her face heats. She doesn’t know what she expected to hear. Something vile and evil for some reason.
“Thank you, it was my idea.” His lips quirk and a brow rises. “What were you expecting we’d be using?”
Amy’s saved from having to answer by a knock from down the hall. “Ah,” Loki says. “That will be the ... ” He winces. “The closest translation is witch doctor, but I have a feeling the connotations of that might be off.”
“Witch doctor?” Amy squeaks.
“Person who uses magic for healing?” says Loki.
“Steve said that short exposure wouldn’t be enough to hurt me,” Amy says.
Loki’s face loses all expression. “Steve, Steve who?”
“My boss, Steve Rogers, only he wasn’t my boss, I guess, because it was another universe and ... ”
“Steve Rogers the terrorist?” Loki says, voice sharp.
Amy stares at him a moment. “Steve?” She flicks a hand. “No. Not in this, that, or any other universe.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Loki says, “Not according to Odin.”
From down the hall there is a pounding on the door.
Amy’s nose scrunches. “Steve is too boring to be a terrorist. Wyrm and troll killing aside ... I’ve caught him humming while filling out paperwork. I think he gets some weird satisfaction from it.” Tapping her chin, she looks away. “Which might be its own sort of evil ... ”
Loki stares at her a moment and then says, “It must have been a different human.”
There is another thump at the door. “I must get that,” he says. Hopping up from the bed, he jogs from the room.
Amy hears the door unlatch and then a woman’s voice, cracking with age, begins speaking in Jotunn, the language of the frost giants. “You call me down on this fool errand of yours and then you make me wait! What you have described is completely impossible!”
“I know, but it is true!” says Loki, his voice sounding excited.
“You know, you know,” the woman snaps, her voice drawing closer. “You know nothing about the art of medicine or the science of the body!”
Loki laughs. “I know!”
A moment later, a woman with white hair and skin so pale it is nearly translucent enters the room. A scowl is etched on her face. Her eyes are clear but hard and sharp. Though she is bent over, she’s still very tall. Amy tilts her head at the signs of aging. Of course. Odin doesn’t share the apples of immortality with frost giants.
“Amy, this is Miskunn,” says Loki with a cheery smile. “She handles these matters for us.”
These matters?
Approaching the bed, Miskunn grumbles, “Far be it from the lovely Eir to come to this backwater realm and deal with the half-human whelps left behind after Aesir cavorting.”
Clutching the throw tighter to herself, Amy snaps in Jotunn, “What did you just say?”
Hissing, Miskunn straightens as though she’s been struck.
“You understand Jotunn?” says Loki.
“Yes,” says Amy, eyes still on the old woman.
Regaining her composure, Miskunn sidles up to her. “I’d say you are clever, but since you are cavorting with Loki, I’ll suspend my judgment. Now put your hands down, girl, so I can examine you.”
“I wasn’t exposed to the atomic particles long enough for it to be an issue,” Amy says. She’s not really sure, but at this point she’d rather just see a human doctor. A non-judgmental human doctor.
Miskunn’s hands lift in the vicinity of Amy’s temples. “Well, you’re right about that.”
Amy’s eyes shoot to Loki. “Then you can leave.”
The old woman gives a snort.
“Amy,” says Loki, voice pleading. “Please, let go of the blanket.”
Amy meets his eyes. He looks so earnest. Against her better judgment she lets the blanket fall, clutching her breasts to cover herself.
Miskunn lays a cold, dry hand on Amy’s abdomen, and then draws back with a gasp. “You are right, Loki. She is pregnant.”
Amy’s body goes rigid and cold. Her eyes go to Loki. Beaming, he bounces down on the bed beside her, puts a hand behind her back and kisses her forehead.
Shaking her head, Miskunn clucks. “But half-humans are never magical—and by the magical signature on this one I’d say she is at least four months along.” She eyes Amy’s midriff. “Though that is obviously impossible.”
“She?” says Loki. “It’s a she?” He sounds positively delighted, and far away, like he’s in another room.
“Girl, do you have any idea how far along you are?” Miskunn asks.
Amy stares at Miskunn blankly. This is impossible—she didn’t miss her period ... Amy closes her eyes. Or had she? Her heart starts beating very fast, and her hands suddenly feel clammy and cold. Her bleeding had been very light ... but she’d just attributed it to stress.
Putting her hands to her temples, she thinks back. How long had it been since her last normal cycle? “About seven weeks,” she whispers.
“The baby’s magic is much too strong,” Miskunn says. “Too much magic matter ... ”
“And she’s magically strong?” says Loki, happiness ringing in his voice. “Did you understand that, Amy? Our child is magical and strong!”
But Amy can only focus on the woman in front of her, the sudden shock of discovering she’s pregnant giving way to cold fear. “What do you mean the magic matter is too strong? Is it inhibiting other neural development in some way?”
Miskunn’s eyes lift to hers, and for the first time Amy sees something like respect there. “Yes. If the magic matter is developing too quickly, the white and gray matter won’t have room to develop. It’s possible that the magic matter of your child is just especially powerful, but ... ” Miskunn tilts her head and stares at Amy’s midriff and mumbles. “In fact, I’m certain it’s partially that ... ”
“What can you do?” Amy says.
Miskunn meets her eyes. “I can try to draw off some of the child’s magic. Magic stimulates the development of more magic matter, which ... ”
“Do it,” says Amy.
“Wait,” says Loki. “Don’t you think we should ... ”
Miskunn’s eyes are already closed. A moment later she opens them, pulls her hands away, and nods up at Amy. “It is done.”
Beside her Loki stills.
Amy pulls the blanket back up until it is underneath her arms and then tucks her knees up against her chin. She misses her grandmother. She wants to go home.
Chapter Five
Brushing a stray bang from Amy’s face, Loki says, “Maybe my other self wanted you to come here? Maybe he knew and pushed you in the direction of this universe so I could help you?”
They’re still in his room. Both of them are leaning against the headboard of the bed. The light of the sun outside the window is dimming, and the beam of light above the Board of Trade is shining even brighter in the twilight.
Amy has just finished telling him everything—well, almost everything. She’s left out the part about carrying his memories. Maybe Loki only gave them to her on a whim, but they feel more intimate than sex. Telling this Loki would be a betrayal—of her Loki or herself—she’s not sure.
Everything else she had to say took hours. He’s been very attentive the entire time. There’s a cup of tea by the bed with the dregs of a ginger-smelling concoction in it. Miskunn gave the herbs to Amy to combat morning sickness. Loki brewed them for her and made more toast.
She leans her head on his shoulder. Her eyes are already wet with tears. “But my grandmother, Loki, she’ll be worried about me.”
Squeezing her hand, he kisses her head. “Amy, I’m not sure I know how to send you home. When I held my other self’s Laevithin in the In-Between, we did not hop into another universe.” He shakes his head. “And even if I had a suspicion of how to do it, I don’t know if I could get it right. You could wind up in a universe that is much more dangerous than yours or mine. Surely your grandmother, if she knew the circumstances, would rather you go on living here, where you, and the baby, can be safe?”
And the trouble is, that is true. But it doesn’t mean Amy’s heart doesn’t ache.
She takes a deep breath. “And the baby,” she says, clutching her midriff. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet.
Loki grins. “It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” It evidently has sunk in for Loki, and he doesn’t have the ambivalence Amy does. She just got her life in order. She was going back to vet school. If she was in her own universe she would stick with that plan, have the baby in the summer, go to school in the fall—she and Beatrice would have worked something out, Amy knows it.
Here, her whole identity seems to have been suddenly winnowed down to Loki’s lover ... or something ... and mother of his child. “I have to go back to school,” she says. In this universe or any other.
Her stomach growls.
“You need to eat,” says Loki.
Amy bites her lip and looks at him.
A slight smile on his lips, he catches her chin and his gray eyes meet hers. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
It’s not the “I love you” she wanted to hear from the Loki in her own universe, but she wouldn’t expect that, he’s just met her. Still, the words warm her almost as much. She’s had friends who’d gotten pregnant accidentally. The reception from their boyfriends wasn’t as confident, warm or as loving.
... and she also thinks of the last Earth she visited, blackened by soot and bathed in fallout.
Things could be much worse. She squeezes her midriff and then her stomach grumbles again.
“Let’s go out and get a bite,” says Loki.
Brow furrowing, she says, “I need clothes.”
Wincing, Loki says, “In a fit of anxiety over possible nuclear contamination, I sent all of yours into the In-Between.”
Amy’s mouth falls open. “My wallet ... ” Her phone ...
Hopping from the bed, Loki waves a hand. “Don’t worry about money, Odin gives me plenty ... as for clothes ... ” He opens a closet and disappears. “I’m sure I’ve had one guest or another leave a few things that might fit ... ”
He comes out bearing a black dress in a stretchy fabric that actually looks like it might accommodate her curves.
Amy just stares at it. It’s not that her Loki didn’t have partners when she knew him; it’s just that he never brought them home. She looks up at this Loki, smiling down at her. He doesn’t have to worry about drifting off to sleep and having his partner report him to the FBI—not only does he not turn blue—which startled women in her own universe into reporting him, he isn’t being hunted by the FBI either.
Grateful as she is to the latter, she’s not sure about the former. She likes him blue. She thinks of Loki being blue when he is more quintessentially himself. He was blue when he destroyed Cera. Both times.
Of course, he says he doesn’t hear Cera talking to him in this universe, either. He hasn’t broken off into rough monologues in Russian so she thinks he’s telling the truth.
She looks down at the dress again. He has other women in his home in this universe.
As if reading her mind, he sits down on the bed beside her and takes her hand. Lifting it to his lips, he says, “Don’t worry. This dress is from a passing someone ... a dalliance ... ”
Amy looks down at it. “But if I’m in the way of—” Dalliances. Flings. Whatever. She’s not judging, she’s just not sure she has the strength to be one. Her next breath is shallow and short.
“Amy, look at me.”
She lifts her eyes. His face is deadly serious. “I need to take care of you. I need to keep you close.” He raises an eyebrow and his lips quirk. “I’m not ready to propose marriage ... ”
“I might run screaming through the door if you did,” Amy says, startling herself. It was a passing thought that she didn’t mean to say out loud. But it is the truth. As much as she loved her Loki, this isn’t quite him.
Loki chuckles. “We are in agreement, then. Let’s see where things go, shall we?”
Amy stares at him. It’s not as though she has much of a choice. Still, the way he’s smiling, the good humor, his attentiveness ... the amazing sex they had earlier. She winces inwardly ... what a shallow thought. Biting her lip, she meets his eyes. His lips are quirked. For only having one choice, she sure got a good one.
“Alright,” she says, reaching for the dress and pulling it over her head.
“Excellent,” he says.
As her head emerges from the fabric, his brows go up. “So you like Star Trek?”
Amy blinks at the non sequitur. “Yes.”
He grins. “Fantastic. All Thor wants to watch is Survivor reruns.”
He holds out his hand to help Amy off the bed. She doesn’t need it. She takes it anyway. And even smiles a little.
Except for the light from Cera shining like a beacon in Chicago’s night sky, her dinner with Loki could have taken place in her own Chicago. They catch a cab; they eat and talk about Star Trek and the intersection of quantum mechanics and magic. The only thing that seems a little off is that Loki doesn’t imbibe. When Amy asks about it, Loki just rolls his eyes and says, “Part of a deal I made with Odin. He’s noticed I tend to be a bit self-destructive when I drink.”
On the one hand, Amy can see the wisdom in that. In her own universe, Amy had known Loki to get fall-down, blackout drunk. On the other hand, she’d seen him be funny and insightful while mildly intoxicated. It was while slightly tipsy that Loki had first observed that he wasn’t a “god” of chaos, so much as a figment of the universe’s consciousness, grappling with the concept of chaos, trying to understand itself. Which was probably as close to the truth as any human, or frost giant would get.
... but this Loki didn’t believe Amy when she’d told him that. He thinks, if anything, he might be the “cosmic incarnation of lie detection and misdirection,” which Amy thinks is a bit of a step down. Still, it is kind of nice that Odin seems to be looking out for him.
After dinner, the similarities to her universe break down again. He doesn’t take her to her crumbling little garden studio in Little Italy. He takes her to his apartment in a historic building on the Gold Coast with marble floors, gilt edges, and a doorman who wears a red uniform with gold trim.
As soon as they enter his apartment door, his hands are on her. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he spins her around and traps her against the wall. His lips are on hers a moment later and he’s hoisting her up. Back still against the wall, dress rucking up, Amy wraps her legs around him and pulls him tighter.
“Welcome home,” he mumbles against her lips, and Amy digs her nails into his back. He feels like her Loki, he talks almost like her Loki, and he treats her as well if not better.
He begins worrying her bottom lip between his teeth and she sucks in a breath, wondering if they’ll make it to the bedroom this time.
And then in the darkness a muffled, tinny Darth Vader theme starts play. It takes Amy a moment to realize it’s a phone. Loki pulls back with a muttered, “Damn. I have to get that.”
Releasing her legs, Amy slides down as Loki fumbles in his pocket in the dark. Amy hits the lights. Snapping open his phone, he says, “Hey, Big Daddy.” Chuckling, he meets her eyes. “It’s just Odin. He hates it when I call him that.”
Amy’s eyes widen. There is the sound of someone talking on the other end of the line, and Loki says in Asgardian, “No, I didn’t fulfill the original objective. But I found the source of the anomalous reading. Yes. Yes. No, she’s standing right here.”
Even from where she stands a few feet away, Amy can hear the boom of, “What!?” that comes over the line.
Winking at her, Loki says, “Relax. She is as gentle as a lamb, and wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He turns to Amy, “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you?”
Amy’s shoulders fall. “Actually, the last fly that came into my apartment I caught in a glass and took outside.” She fiddles nervously with a fingernail. That had been a bit on the bleeding heart side, even for her.
Chuckling, Loki speaks into the phone. “Did you hear that?”
And then his face goes serious. “A gate opened up in Wicker Park? And Thor caught a troll?” He tilts his head. “That shouldn’t be happening, I can go there right away and ... ”
There is a gruff comment on the other end of the line. Face grave, Loki nods. “Understood.”
There is more muffled speech from Odin. Loki smiles at Amy and says, “But I like her! We’re having so much fun, she likes Star Trek.” He snickers a little and although she can’t see or hear any response, Amy swears she can feel Odin rolling his single eye.
Loki’s face becomes somber. A moment later he sighs. “Very well. I’ll write up a report and email it to you before your morning.” There is a pause and then Loki groans and smacks his forehead. “Yes, I had forgotten that the Svartálfaheimr morning is only three hours from now.” He nods. “You’ll still have it. Yes, yes, yes, believe me, I know the conditions of our arrangement.”
Amy’s jaw drops.
Snapping the phone shut, Loki says, “So long, Big Daddy.”
“Were you just talking to Odin in Svartálfaheimr ... on your cell phone?” she gasps.
Loki smirks. “Yes. It’s a wonder what can be done with magic and human technology together. I’m surprised it took Odin so long to get involved here.”
Amy goes completely still. “How involved is Odin?”
Loki shrugs. “Oh, he’s not one to micromanage. Don’t worry, Earth is still under regional control for the most part.”
“For the most part?” says Amy.
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