Loki's Gambit, page 75
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Amy lifts her head from her hand. Obey? Oath? She’s known that Loki has been working for Odin, but thought it was because they were on good terms. Her eyes slide to the side at the memory of her first day. What had Loki said? “There are terms ... ”
There is another bark on the other end of the line and Loki rubs his eyes. “No, no, I’ll be at the Bifrost site in three quarters of an hour.” Snapping the phone shut, he sits up without meeting Amy’s eyes. “I need to put my armor on. You’ll be fine for a day without me?”
Amy blinks. “Sure. Of course,” she says. He’s left every time a gate has popped open, but he’s seldom gone for more than an hour.
Standing up, Loki makes his way to the large walk-in closet in his room while Amy slips on his robe. She’s just cinched it at her waist when there is the sound of banging at the front door.
Amy’s brow furrows. She just saw Miskunn the other day; it isn’t time for her next appointment. She takes a tentative step towards the door of the room anyway. From the foyer down the hall there is a crash, and then a bellow from a voice Amy’s heard before, but never in this universe. “Loki!”
Slipping on a pair of light trousers, Loki curses. “Thor, did you rip my door off the hinges again?”
The floorboards outside in the hall groan and then Thor himself barrels into the room. His eyes slide to Amy, but he doesn’t acknowledge her.
Amy cowers in the robe, the lack of acknowledgement strangely more unsettling than the times Thor has looked at her in rage. The comforting weight of Mr. Squeakers falls onto her shoulder.
Training his eyes on Loki, Thor says in Asgardian, “Not ready?”
“What are you doing back here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your father in Svartálfaheimr?” Loki barks in English. Slipping a shirt over his shoulders, he mutters, “Breaking in my door again ... ”
“But I love fighting the Mujahideen!” Thor declares, slipping into English, too.
“Why are you fighting the Mujahideen?” Amy asks.
Thor doesn’t respond. But Loki gives a tight twisted smile and says, “They refuse to accept the constitution Odin has laid out for them. Their government is corrupt. Their holy warriors have launched suicide attacks on the peaceful nations that are friends of Asgard.”
Amy tilts her head. Their reasoning doesn’t sound horrible, and it sounds believable if it’s anything like the Afghanistan on her world. And yet ...
“They treat their women like shit,” Loki says. “If I were you, I wouldn’t feel sorry for them.”
Smiling, Thor says, “But they are the noblest of warriors on the battlefield. And the most challenging! Especially since they have their magical armor-piercing bullets!”
“Magical armor-piercing bullets?” Amy squeaks.
Thor doesn’t even raise an eyebrow in her direction. For a moment Amy wonders if Loki’s made her invisible. She looks down at her hands. She’s still solid though.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Loki says, throwing some pieces of armor on the bed and giving her a comforting smile. “I’ll be fine and back by evening.”
At his words, Thor’s eyebrows shoot up. He looks at Amy, and then says in Asgardian, “Darling? Back by evening? You’ve got a human pet now?”
Amy scowls. “I’m not a pet!”
Thor’s jaw drops and Loki snorts, but for a heart-stopping moment Loki doesn’t contradict him.
Tilting his head, Thor takes a step forward, a smile on his face. “She has spirit. I like that. Will you share her with me?”
“Touch her and you’ll have my knife through your hand!” Loki shouts.
Amy draws back. Her eyes go to Loki. He already has a knife balanced in his fingers. On her shoulder Mr. Squeakers hisses in Thor’s direction.
Thor’s smile drops. A befuddled look replaces it. “You could have just said no,” he says.
Amy blinks at Thor, and then at Loki. “Magical armor-piercing bullets?” she says again, her voice trembling a little.
Thor snorts. “They and the other rabble have a magical accomplice. He calls himself Prometheus.”
Affixing a shin guard, Loki says, “They’re fused bullets with the stuff you call Promethean wire.”
“That’s interesting,” Amy says. “But I’m not asking how, I’m just worried about you.”
Loki straightens. “Oh.” He smiles and shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’m the incarnation of lie detection and misdirection, remember?”
Thor snorts again and rolls his eyes. “Hurry up, get your armor on, and kiss her goodbye!”
Turning his attention back to his armor, Loki grumbles, “Less haste, more speed.”
Voice sounding oddly almost plaintive, Thor says, “I don’t know how you’re not excited. I wish Valli could join us. He’d be keen to go.”
Loki chuckles. “If Valli were here, he’d join the cause of the Mujahideen.” He winks at Amy. “If my son is the universe’s incarnation of anything, it is the spirit of armed rebellion.”
Thor sighs. “Valli is a gifted fighter. I miss him.”
Snapping a piece of metal over his knee, Loki mutters, “Valli without Nari is a psychopath.”
“Without Nari?” says Amy.
Not looking at her, Loki says, “Nari was the peaceful one.”
“Silly scholar,” mutters Thor.
Loki’s mouth twists into a grimace. “His books got him tangled in politics and politics killed him…” Eyes going a little distant, Loki says, “If Nari could declare himself the incarnation of anything, it would be the spirit of democracy.” He shakes his head. “Could have ... Would have been ... ”
Amy suddenly has a memory of Loki and Nari debating the merits of the Magna Carta. Nari in the memory because he was impassioned. Loki just because he liked to shoot ideas to pieces.
Attaching another piece of metal to his thigh, Loki mutters, “Hopeless idealists, both of them.”
“Aye,” says Thor. He puts his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “But we love them both.”
Loki’s jaw goes tight, but he doesn’t correct the tense. Going to the closet, he straps on a scabbard and slips Laevithin into it. The blade isn’t glowing.
Amy’s head jerks in recognition. It isn’t her version of the blade. “Why don’t you use the sword from my—”
Loki’s eyes meet hers. Scowling, he shakes his head. Amy shuts her mouth, her brow furrowing. Thor straightens and looks curiously between the two of them.
“So do you think I should take my Glock and the M-16?” Loki asks.
“Yes, of course,” says Thor, his look of curiosity turning serious. “Don’t be flippant.”
Loki smiles and steps back into the closet, returning with a few heavy reinforced suitcases in his hands. Amy had seen them before but hadn’t really thought to ask about them. Laying them on his bed, Loki opens them to display wicked-looking firearms and ammo. Amy puts a hand over her mouth and her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t say anything. A few minutes later, Loki has a bigger gun over one shoulder—Amy thinks it is the M-16—and another smaller pistol-like gun at his side.
Thor drags Loki from the room by the shoulder and Amy follows them towards the door, arms crossed over her chest. Stopping in the kitchen, Loki puts money and a credit card on the counter. “Go ahead and order food,” he says. Stepping up to Amy, he puts his hand on her stomach and whispers, “And feel free to go crazy online with the credit card and order new clothes.” Kissing her forehead, he adds, “Stay here, be safe.”
Amy nods. She doesn’t like this. Not one bit. But all she says is, “You be safe.”
Clearing his throat, Thor says, “Loki, do you think you can lend me your spare Glock? I think I might like one for close combat situations.”
Loki grumbles but says to Thor, “Wait here.” And then he walks back towards the bedroom.
Thor’s eyes instantly zero in on her. Making a shallow bow, he says, “Please pardon me, my lady, for my rudeness earlier.”
Amy draws back a little. “Um, okay,” she says.
Straightening, Thor says, “It is usually not advisable for us to get attached to humans. Still, I’m glad he has finally mustered the courage to be close to someone.”
“Why isn’t it advisable?” Amy says, her voice a little harsh.
Thor lifts an eyebrow and smiles sadly. “Because you die so quickly.”
Amy suddenly is hit by a flood of Loki’s memories.
Loki was leaning over Amy while she slept in the huge hotel room they shared in Paris. He raised a blue hand towards her. He wanted to stay, to start over. And then before him Amy’s skin, muscle, and tissues melted away until nothing was left of her but clean white bones. Loki’s breath caught in his throat. He blinked, and Amy was real and whole. But he knew the message behind the hallucination. Even without his yearly allotment of the immortality-bestowing apples of Idunn, Loki was magical, he’d live centuries ... He pulled back and away from Amy, trying to rid the image of her sleeping form from his mind. His traitorous mind drifted to the night he’d spent with her at the bar with her university friends, joking about philosophy and quantum physics, and then to Steve laughing in a snowy alley. Loki wanted to stay on Earth, with Amy, with humanity ... Clenching his jaw, he closed his eyes. But there was no future with the short-lived humans he’s become fond of ... Loki’s only future was to see Asgard burn.
The memory is so intense that Amy wobbles on her feet, the edges of her vision going black.
“Miss—” says Thor.
From down the hall, Loki screams. “Amy!” She hears the sound of running feet, but Thor is faster.
“I have her,” says Thor, a hand suddenly at her wrist, another around her back.
“I’m fine,” says Amy. “It was just—”
She doesn’t finish. She still hasn’t told Loki about his memories from another life. She knows she should tell him, that it’s just her paranoia holding her back ... or maybe it’s insecurity. Maybe he won’t believe her, or think she’s imagining things. Maybe she is imagining things. Maybe she just doesn’t want to let go of the idea that her Loki gave her something precious on purpose, even if she doesn’t know why.
“Let her go!” says Loki, wrapping an arm around her.
Thor backs away, a smile of joy on his face. “Loki, she’s pregnant.” He turns to Amy. “Congratulations, Miss—”
It strikes her that she hasn’t been introduced to this Thor. “Amy Lewis,” she says.
Loki is scowling.
Thor is grinning like an idiot. “And the baby is magical. I could feel it, just touching her wrist.”
“Thor,” says Loki, “hush.”
Thor looks at him, befuddled. Amy’s a little befuddled, too.
Loki looks between the two of them. “I’ve been going to a great deal of trouble to hide it from Heimdall.” He winces. “And Odin.”
Thor blinks. Amy’s brows go up. She hadn’t realized they were hiding anything.
“Why?” says Thor.
Loki bites his lip. “Well, for one, you know it’s mine and you know how these things go for me—”
Thor’s face softens. “It will be fine this time. You’ll see.”
Loki’s face tightens all the more. “And the baby is magical, as you noted—”
“It’s wondrous! And strong!” Thor says. “I’ve never heard of a half-human baby ... ” His smile drops. “Ah ... I see your point. Some people might use the child against you.”
Thor drops a heavy hand on Loki’s shoulder. “You have my oath. I shall not speak of it to anyone, even my father. Especially my father.”
Loki visibly relaxes. “Thank you.”
Thor lifts his hand and hits Loki on the shoulder again. “But well done, Loki! Well done!”
Amy feels her brows knit. She’s the one with the morning sickness and the sore breasts, and she’ll be lugging the baby around for the next eight months—why is Loki getting all the praise? And technically it wasn’t even this Loki. It was her Loki that impregnated her. Her eyes narrow.
But then Thor turns to her and bows again. “And my lady, you have my vow, I will bring Loki home safe to you.”
Amy tilts her head. In another life Thor tried to strangle her, suggested Loki keep her as a servant, and also saved her life. This Thor seems just as blundering and oddly noble.
“Thank you,” she says.
“May I have my goodbye kiss?” says Loki. He’s looking down at her, one eyebrow cocked, a slight lift to one side of his lips.
And how can she resist?
A few minutes later, she’s alone. She stares at the money on the counter for all of thirty seconds, feeling sad that she won’t have Loki to herself today.
And then she remembers all the things she said she resolved to do when she decided to stay in this universe—going back to veterinary school for one. How did she let herself get so thoroughly distracted by, of all things, sex? She needs to get to work on fixing this right away.
She taps her chin. All of her high school, undergrad, and MCAT results probably exist in this universe, and her Social Security number is still the same. As long as no one Googles her and discovers she’s dead.
She looks to the office. She can’t go back to the school in Oklahoma, obviously. But she could go to the University of Illinois Veterinary School in Chicago. She’ll need to fill out the application forms and put her John Hancock on them ... but Loki doesn’t have a printer.
She looks at the money on the counter. This Chicago seems far safer than her Chicago. Surely, when Loki said stay here he didn’t mean in the apartment? She taps her chin thoughtfully for all of another thirty seconds, and then bolts to the bedroom to get dressed.
Chapter Seven
Amy gets out of the cab on LaSalle Street, just a block north of the Chicago Board of Trade. It’s not her destination, but it’s close enough, and she hasn’t been able to see the building up close since she arrived.
The building is classic art deco and it’s been a dark and foreboding extra in at least one dystopian movie. Now a blue light bathes the old clock at the building’s front, old brickwork, moldings, and the faceless statue of Ceres. It’s art deco as reimagined by Disney. Just above Ceres’s head the light condenses into a single beam the width of the building’s highest tower. The beam shoots up into the low hanging winter clouds. It’s beautiful and awe-inspiring—magic and human engineering fused together into something better than either.
Absently rubbing her almost non-existent bump beneath her coat, Amy whispers, “Baby girl, you are going to have a beautiful world.” She smiles a little bittersweetly. She’s given up a lot to stay in this world. She misses Beatrice, Fenrir, and her friends. Lifting her head, she squares her shoulders. There isn’t anything she can do about that.
She is cared for. She looks down at her new clothes—an impossibly luxurious pink cashmere coat over an ivory silk sweater and tailored trousers. The Mary Jane flats on her feet alone cost an arm and a leg—although this Loki has as much a fascination with heels as her own, he didn’t want her to trip in ‘her condition.’ Amy is better dressed, and better fed now than she’s been, well, ever. And she has found herself in a new and interesting world. She will make the most of it.
Dropping her eyes, she brings her attention back to Earth. It’s a rare fifty-five degree December day in Chicago. The pavement on the street and the sidewalk is wet with melted snow. Around her men and women in suits walk past, many without outer coats. Amy has an inexplicable urge to smile and say hello to them. It strikes her that she hasn’t really interacted with anyone besides Loki and Miskunn since she’s been here. Her mood darkens slightly. She sees Miskunn twice a week now. Her baby’s magic is too strong; Miskunn is convinced that without someone to siphon all that magic away, the extra energy will overwhelm the baby’s fragile developing body.
Squaring her shoulders, Amy wills herself not to think about such things. She does have Miskunn, and everything will be fine. Taking a breath, Amy forces her feet into motion and walks southward. In a few minutes, her good cheer is restored. It feels good to be on her own and outside. A little jolt of exhilaration courses down her spine. She’s been having a great time with Loki, but she’s always been animated by having a purpose and a goal ... now that she’s on track to realizing that goal she feels lighter and stronger at the same time. She is still herself no matter how everything has changed.
LaSalle Street dead ends at the Board of Trade and Amy turns east there onto Jackson. As she does she notices the pace of her fellow pedestrians picking up, their conversations stopping, and their eyes fixating straight ahead. It’s probably just the end of lunch hour. Nonetheless, Amy finds herself shoving her hands into her pockets and shivering, though it’s a mild day for December, and her coat is more than adequate to keep her warm.
Continuing a few paces down Jackson, she stops in her tracks at what she sees. In her world there is a courtyard between the Board of Trade and the adjacent building to the east. In her world there is also a walkway there beneath a bridge of steel and glass that spans the two buildings. Amy was planning on using the walkway as a shortcut to Van Buren. In this world, the walkway still exists, but the whole courtyard is filled with men in uniforms, reminiscent of human camouflage fatigues, but dark gray. They stand at attention in six long lines of at least ten men each. All have large guns held in front of their bodies.
Amy stares at the soldiers. Loki had told her that the Board of Trade was used as Asgard’s ‘embassy’ on Earth. She expected a few men guarding the doors, but this looks like a small army.
She suddenly feels a hand on her elbow and instinctively spins away from it ... and finds herself facing a businessman she’s never seen before. His blonde hair is tinged with white, he’s not particularly tall or short, he has an aquiline nose, a pair of glasses precariously perched at the tip. Behind his glasses his eyes are wide.
“Miss,” he says. “Don’t stare. You don’t want to draw their attention.”
From across the street comes a shout and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. “You there, woman? What’s your business here?”
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