Loki's Gambit, page 83
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Before Loki, two ropes affixed to either shoulder start to drag Odin out of the saddle. Loki locks his arms around the Allfather’s waist and his legs around Sleipnir’s sides trying to pull Odin down.
“Loki!” Odin screams. “Fire!”
“But I might set you aflame!” Loki cries.
Another bolt of rope shoots from the darkness to Odin’s back just in front of Loki’s nose, and Odin starts to slide from his arms.
Loki gives a cry of rage and fear, sees red, orange, yellow, and blue light before his eyes, and every inch of his skin burns. Beneath Loki, Sleipnir screams, and Odin falls back into the saddle. The heat fades from Loki’s skin, but around him, fires still crackle in clumps of dry grass and dried up husks of bushes on the ground.
In the flickering light, Loki can see the terrain around them for the first time. The earth is almost completely barren, the sky above…He gasps. They appear to be in a huge tent of some kind. Red lights glint amid the eaves. Around him swing warriors and horses encased in hammocks of sticky rope.
He jumps in the saddle as a loud crack sounds to his right. Turning with a gasp, he sees the skeletal remains of a tree burst into flame, fire dancing up its trunk to branches hidden beneath the tent’s white eaves. Close to where the tree burns, a horse falls from the sky and lands on its feet with the sound of splintering bones. The horse screams in pain and tumbles to the ground. A few of the Einherjar fall from above and stumble to their feet. “Grab hold of Sleipnir’s mane and tail!” Odin commands.
Hastening to obey Odin’s words, the warriors run through curled blackened ends of rope to Sleipnir’s sides.
A bolt of the sticky rope lands on the ground before them, and Sleipnir rears. “Steady!” Odin commands, and Sleipnir stills, shaking his head and snorting. More ropes fall around them. To the warriors around him, Odin says, “Sleipnir will slip through time. Whatever you see, feel or hear, do not let go!”
Loki barely has a chance to digest those words before Odin gives a tap to Sleipnir’s haunches. Loki instantly feels lighter. Another bolt of rope shoots from the sky—and then appears to stop in midair. Tossing his head nervously, Sleipnir begins to thread his way through the small clumps of fire and sticky rope pillars.
Staring at the flames, Loki almost falls from his saddle. The flames aren’t flickering, they are just columns of colored light, as though intricately carved and painted statues of fire.
One of the Einherjar mutters a swear and releases Sleipnir’s mane…Loki blinks…and the warrior is no longer at Sleipnir’s side. Craning his head around, he sees the soldier, body seemingly frozen in place, hand outstretched toward them far off in the distance. Odin doesn’t turn Sleipnir around.
The sky above them goes from black, speckled with a few distant clusters of red lights, to navy blue, lit by three moons, and unfamiliar stars. Tightening his arms around Odin, Loki looks back again and sees the tent-like structure they emerged from already far back in the distance. Suddenly around them trees rise. Some look familiar. Others look completely alien, leaves like feathers or dinner plates visible even in the low light. In only a few falls of Sleipnir’s hooves, the forest falls away, and they are standing on a bluff. Odin draws Sleipnir to a halt. Loki’s body suddenly has weight again, and his ears are assailed by the sound of chirping insects. The soldiers still holding onto Sleipnir’s mane and tail gasp and murmur. The hum of insects rises around them.
Gentle mountains covered by forest stretch all around them. Between some of the mountains, Loki sees more tents. From the outside, they glisten white in the moonlight. He squints. Because of the distance, it’s difficult to gauge their size, but he’d guess each tent to be the size of a small city.
Those observations are secondary to the true defining feature of the Nornheim landscape. Scattered about, seemingly at random, are enormous columns. Each must be as wide as Odin’s great hall. Their bases are not smooth and circular; rather, they seem to be composed of many great tree trunks merged together. Near the ground, they are covered with plants, but as they rise into the sky, their surfaces shimmer with color and appear to be lit by inner light. They stretch so high, their tops are invisible, but Loki thinks he makes out the faint shadow of branches slightly obscuring the faces of the moons.
In the saddle, Odin lifts his head and roars. “Hoenir, create a new gate!”
Tense minutes tick by, with Odin saying nothing. Sleipnir stamps the ground and shifts beneath Loki. The buzzing of night insects grows louder.
Odin grunts, and says, “The branches of the columns obstruct Hoenir and Heimdall’s vision. I’ll have to create a new gate myself.”
Loki sits back in surprise. “You can open World Gates?” he whispers. Through clenched teeth the Allfather says, “Not well.”
He turns his head to the side. In profile, Odin’s face is haggard, weary…and it strikes Loki, maybe even fearful.
If Odin is worried, Loki is worried. He shivers.
Patting Loki’s hand, Odin chuckles. “The odds are I will fail…but then again, I have you.”
Loki’s brow furrows. He can’t imagine what could be worse than what they’ve already come through.
Nervously stepping sideways, Sleipnir lets out a nervous whinny.
“Sire, behind us,” says one of the warriors.
Loki turns. In the night sky behind them, he sees a swarm of shadows rising into the air. They look like giant dragonflies, but where he’d expect the bodies of insects, he sees slender, hominid-like forms.
“Adze,” a dark-skinned Einherjar says. “Cursed bloodsuckers.”
Loki’s mouth goes dry. There are hundreds of them.
“Loki, hold tight!” Odin commands. “That goes for the rest of you, too.”
Without further warning, Odin gives Sleipnir a kick in the haunches. Loki feels his body go light, the humming of insects stops, and Sleipnir launches himself down the bluff, leaping in such great bounds that the bones of a normal horse’s legs would crack. But Sleipnir and the Einherjar land lightly. On Sleipnir’s back, Loki would not know the beast had leaped if he hadn’t seen it for himself.
Bohdi pushes his head a little further into the air duct between the two rooms. The back of Steve’s head comes into view and then the rest of the room’s occupants. He sees Amy, looking a little lost in space, staring above Thor’s head. Skírnir is glaring at her.
Eyes on Steve, Thor says, “If it were so easy. My father can create gates, but only at great expense.”
“What does this have to do with us?” says Steve.
Turning to Steve, Skírnir says, “The World Seed’s residual magic is still creating gates in your city. Depending on their proximity to the Norn’s stronghold, it is possible that the Norns have not been able to close them. All we require of you is that you take us to a gate that leads to Nornheim. Then I will open the gate, and Thor and I will be gone and trouble you no more.”
Tilting his head, Steve says, “We have gates, but we don’t know where they lead.”
In the duct, Bohdi’s nose starts to itch. Rubbing his upper lip, he restrains a sneeze. He can’t help but notice that, at the conference table, Amy’s eyes have gone wide as though she’s surprised.
Voice tight, Skírnir says, “Surely your whore Gerðr has told you?”
Steve’s shoulders tighten like he’s restraining the urge to lunge across the table and strangle someone. Which he probably is.
Bohdi feels his skin heat. Steve has worked hard to ensure Gerðr is treated with more decency than the cranky giantess gives any human. She only has female guards. She’s never alone with any one person, male or female, and all her interactions are on camera—precisely because Steve doesn’t want any allegations like the ones Skírnir just tossed into the room.
Steepling his fingers, Steve says coolly, “The lady is not a whore. And frankly, that you suggest she is treated as one under my roof insults me.”
Thor casts a dark look in Skírnir’s direction. “Excuse him. Skírnir does not know your ways. He did not mean to cause offense.”
For his part, Skírnir, the magician guy, looks both annoyed and perplexed. “Indeed, I did not. But she is your prisoner so I assumed you would—”
Straightening in his chair, Steve says nothing. Bohdi’s lip curls. His boss has way too much self-control. If Bohdi were in the room, he’d strangle Skírnir on Steve’s behalf.
Clearing his throat, Thor says, “Gerðr is capable of knowing what realm any World Gate leads to without traversing it.”
Leaning forward, Skírnir says, “Has she not told you?”
Bohdi knows she hasn’t, but Steve does not respond.
Looking pleased, Skírnir says, “If she has not, leave her to me, and I will extract the information for you.”
Voice flat, Steve says, “I’ll have to run it by my superiors.”
Clearing his throat, Thor says, “He means magic compulsion, Agent Rogers. Not torture.”
Skírnir raises an eyebrow in Thor’s direction that clearly says, “Say what?” Bohdi feels a little sick.
“I’ll still have to clear it,” Steve says.
Skírnir’s eyes narrow. “How long will it take?”
“Oh, it could take quite some time, months…” says Steve. He gives a shrug and a casual wave that clearly say “maybe never.”
Bohdi almost snorts. If Steve had a magic power, it would be clearing hurdles of bureaucratic bullshit in the blink of an eye.
Skírnir glares, but Thor grunts and says, “Do what you must.” He gives Steve a tight smile. “We are not authorized to interfere with the internal workings of your affairs.”
“Yet,” says Skírnir.
Bohdi’s fingers tighten at the edge of the grate.
Looking genuinely weary, Thor slumps in his seat. “Enough of this politicking. Agent Rogers, it is truly good to see you again.”
Summoning up more self-control than Bohdi’s ever had, Steve says, “And it is good to see you.”
Thor visibly brightens. “Does your cafeteria still boast the magical chocolate elixir?”
“Yes, it does,” says Steve, and Bohdi can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. Steve can bullshit in ways Bohdi never can.
Bohdi smirks. If Steve can cut through bullshit as well as he can deliver bullshit, does that make Steve the King of Bullshit? He restrains a chuckle. He’s going to declare that Steve’s title…but maybe after a few beers.
“Let us adjourn there,” says Thor, banging his fist on the table. There is a loud crack, the table shudders, sags, and the middle drops to the floor with a bang. Everyone that wasn’t already standing jumps from their seats. Every agent along the room’s perimeter has his Glock out and pointed at Thor or Skírnir.
Thor stares at the table and says sheepishly, “No offense meant.”
Steve steps over, puts a hand on Thor’s shoulder and turns him toward the door. “None taken. I’ll let my people escort you to the cafeteria. I need a few words with Dr. Lewis.”
Thor stares blankly at Steve for a few long seconds, and then his eyes widen. Looking back at Amy, he dips his chin in a gesture that looks respectful. Bohdi almost sighs. No one gives him that sort of respect.
With a final parting nod to Steve, Thor and Skírnir step out of the room with a gauntlet of agents surrounding them, magic detectors beeping as they leave the confines of the Promethean Wire.
And then it’s just Steve and Amy…and Bohdi, if peering through the air duct counts.
Leaning two hands on the back of a chair, Steve says, “Well, Dr. Lewis, do you have any insights into the meeting?”
Amy puts her hands in her pockets and looks down. She prods the table with the toe of her sneaker. Bohdi leans closer. Amy isn’t gorgeous, but she is really, really cute. And she’s a doctor.
There are people at ADUO who say less than nice things about her—how she isn’t very bright to have hooked up with Loki, and how His Mischievousness just wanted someone who was easy to control. Amy’s file is so well protected that even Bohdi hasn’t been able to read it. But gossip isn’t as easily contained. She helped Loki escape from Alfheim, realm of the elves, and ran over Thor with her car on purpose. Bohdi was also there when she opened a portal to another dimension and when she came back from said dimension…by herself.
Bohdi thinks that, super-villainy aside, maybe Loki just had good taste.
The piece of wood Amy was prodding settles with a creak and a bang. Bohdi snaps out of his reverie.
Slipping her hands into her pockets, Amy says, “Well, the Norns know everything that has happened and is happening…and people go to them with questions in exchange for an item of power or a heroic deed…”
Bohdi jerks so quickly, he nearly bangs his head on the top of the vent. His hand starts to slip toward his wallet.
“Any idea what sort of question Odin would find so important that he’d send his son?” says Steve.
“No, I…” Amy’s eyes grow wide. “I think Odin’s still looking for Loki.”
Bohdi’s body stills. Loki is dead. That’s ADUO’s official pronouncement, and Steve’s said it and…
Steve’s eyes widen a fraction. “I think you’re right.”
Bohdi’s body goes cold.
Putting his hand to his chin, Steve says, “But if the Norns and Asgard are not on speaking terms, how does Thor expect to pry any information from them?”
Shrugging, Amy rolls on her feet. And then she says in a small voice, “What about the gate to Nornheim in Loki’s old apartment?”
What? Bohdi leans forward in the duct. How in all his online snooping and offline eavesdropping does he not know there is a World Gate in Loki’s apartment?
Steve waves a hand. “Loki’s apartment is cordoned off and constantly monitored. To get in, you’d need to get past armed guards, fingerprint and retina scans, and a door that would put most bank vaults to shame.”
Bohdi shakes his head but doesn’t sigh. There is a way into Loki’s apartment. But when Bohdi pointed it out, ADUO had deemed it “too preposterous to occur” and “too expensive” to fix.
In a light tone, Steve says to Amy, “How did you know Odin can open World Gates?”
“Oh.” Amy shifts from one foot to another. She gives Steve a small smile, meets his eyes, and says, “Loki told me.”
A sneeze wracks Bohdi’s body before he can contain it.
Steve looks toward the vent. “Damn mice!”
Amy eyes the air vent. “Sounds more like a rat.”
Well that… Bohdi draws back and bangs his head on the corner of the duct and the wall.
Steve snorts. “I think you just insulted it.”
And then Steve looks back to Amy. “Exciting first day back?”
As Bohdi massages his head, he hears Amy say, “Thor…Skírnir…the thong.”
Steve sighs. “Oh, Bohdi is all right.”
Still massaging his head, Bohdi frowns. Can’t Steve say he’s a little better than “all right”?
“Any idea why Loki stole his memories?” Amy asks.
Bohdi opens both eyes to see Steve stop in his tracks by the door. “The only thing that comes to mind is Bohdi flipping Loki off right before it happened.”
Bohdi’s breath catches in his throat. Steve never told him that. That sounds almost…heroic.
Amy rolls her eyes. “So he’s always been kind of an ass, then?”
With an indignant huff, Bohdi pulls back so quickly his head bangs against the metal ductwork.
Amy stands at the coffee dispenser in the cafeteria, finally getting the cup she’d said she’d get after the thong incident.
Beatrice is beside her, umbrella swinging on her arm, eyeing the table where Thor, Skírnir, Steve, and a few other agents sit surrounded by armed guards. Magic detectors are beeping faintly, picking up on Thor’s hammer and Skírnir’s wand.
Skírnir’s not eating, just picking at some food with a plastic fork.
Shaking her head, Amy turns toward the door and whispers to Beatrice. “Steve asked me to talk to Gerðr before I dissect my troll’s anterior cruciate ligament.”
“I’ll come with you,” says Beatrice as they step into the hallway. Amy feels a bright light of pride. “You’ve never been interested in my dissections before! It’s so exciting, I’m working with a veterinarian in Indonesia and we’re comparing the knees of trolls to orangutans and—”
“I meant I’d go with you to visit Gerðr,” says Beatrice. Her grandmother pats her arm. “Not that dissecting a troll doesn’t sound…” Beatrice swallows audibly. “…lovely.”
Amy does not pout at Beatrice’s lack of enthusiasm. At least not very much.
It will be nice to have some company when visiting Gerðr. It’s not that Amy doesn’t have sympathy for the giantess—Gerðr’s been branded a terrorist, even though, when she attacked humans, she was being controlled by Cera. And now Gerðr is trapped here on Earth as a prisoner of ADUO without a way to go home—at least that they know of.
Nonetheless, Amy doesn’t like Gerðr. The giantess is fond of calling humans “the magically retarded worms of the World Tree.” Unfortunately, Amy speaks Frost Giant—courtesy of Loki. Gerðr’s rooms are lined with Promethean Wire, and within them, Gerðr can’t use magic to translate English. Amy is the best worm to visit and talk to the cranky giantess. She sighs.
Beside her, Beatrice says, “So much excitement today. Aren’t you glad you came back to Chicago?”
Amy raises her head at the question. A movement in a dead-end hallway to her left catches her eye. She glances in that direction and sees Bohdi there. His eyebrows go up in surprise. Is it her imagination, or does he look vaguely guilty?
“Amy?” says Beatrice.
Amy blinks. How had Beatrice forgotten the excitement in Oklahoma? “Grandma, Oklahoma was exciting—I discovered a new species of toad in my backyard.”
“Yes, dear, you’ve told me,” Beatrice says, patting her on the arm.
“Bufo laugauz is such a cutie, too,” says Amy wistfully. “…with his black skin and cute little yellow spots.” She named the toad after a version of Laugauz, Loki’s Fire Giant incarnation.
_preview.jpg)
