Loki's Gambit, page 88
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
Smiling, the man puts both hands on the handlebars and begins to peddle again. A woman gets in the way of the scene, her pale face suddenly entering the frame of the camera…
“Bohdi!”
…In front of him is Amy. Her blue eyes are wide and worried. Her hands are on either side of his face.
Grabbing her wrists, he pushes her aside, a cry of abject misery leaving his throat.
He lifts his eyes and sees the milky white surface of the column sparkling with flickers of light from within. And then the flickering solidifies, and he sees the man and the boy again; his heart lifts even as heavy hands land on his shoulders and spin him around.
The man and the boy vanish. Bohdi screams. It feels like he’s lost everything and everyone he’s ever loved.
Something shakes him, and suddenly Bohdi is staring into Thor’s dark blue eyes. Words are spilling from Thor’s lips, but Bohdi can’t make out their meaning. He tries to spin back to the column, but Thor grabs his shoulders and smaller, softer arms wrap around him from behind.
“You must not look at the Columns of Fate!” Thor shouts.
Gasping, Bohdi screams. “I have to! That’s why I came! That’s what I have to know!”
From behind him, Amy’s voice rises, “No, Bohdi, you’ll go crazy if you look into the columns.” Her hands tighten on his chest.
In front of him, Thor’s lips form a hard line. “She speaks the truth. Stare into the columns and you’ll lose yourself.”
“But…” Bohdi blinks. The last few hours come rushing back to his mind.
After arriving in Nornheim, Thor had circled until he’d found a stream. According to the space Viking, all water in Nornheim flows to the Norns. They’d flown down low enough to see the direction of the current, and then returned the chariot to higher altitudes. They’d flown for hours. After a while, even being in an alien realm had ceased to be interesting.
A few minutes ago, Thor had touched down near one of the giant “Columns of Fate.” He’d said the columns would keep some of the predators at bay but had warned Bohdi and Amy not to look too closely at the column surface…and then Thor had walked off to scout for a bit, and Amy had started taking pictures of alien insects with her iPhone…and Bohdi…Bohdi had peeked at the column.
He’s panting. And his eyes are wet. Amy’s still standing behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. She’s shaking. He gulps. No, he’s shaking.
Alien insects trill in a strange mournful harmony. The trees in this part of the forest are white-trunked with fern-like leaves that are such a dark green they’re nearly black. The ground is covered in a carpet of shredded white bark and dead leaves. The undergrowth is thin, but here and there plants with burgundy leaves and lavender flowers peek from the ground. Light blue insects with bat-like baby blue wings dart about.
He stands frozen, the strange surroundings making him feel like he’s trapped in a surreal dream.
He wants to go back to the place he saw in the column. He wants to feel like he did looking at the man and the boy. His brain is screaming at him to turn his head, just to take one more look…
Closing his eyes, he brings his hands up to where Amy’s hands are on his chest. Bohdi can’t bring himself to push them away, and when his hands touch hers, she responds by squeezing them. Bohdi bows his head. It’s pleasantly warm on the surface of Nornheim. He’s only wearing the button-down shirt he’d worn to the office this morning. Amy’s shed her heavy coat and is only wearing a fleece sweater. He can feel the softness of her breasts pressed against his back. The sensation is sweet; it mutes the empty feeling in his gut, softens the edge of the niggling feeling at the back of his brain telling him just to turn around…
“We need to eat,” Thor says, dropping his hands from Bohdi’s shoulders. “Come.”
Lifting his head and opening his eyes, Bohdi stares at him briefly and then nods. He gently disengages his hands from Amy’s. As Thor walks ahead, Amy steps around Bohdi, and her eyes meet his.
He remembers her look of shock and disappointment early this morning, the look of anger when he’d grabbed her in the lab, and her look of incredulity as she’d wrinkled her nose up at the protein bars he’d gotten them from 7-11. Now she only looks concerned. His stomach twists uncomfortably as he looks down at her. In the Marine Corps, he made it all the way through boot camp, infantry training, and had even attended several weeks of schooling before Steve got him out of the Corps with a bogus medical discharge. He should be looking out for her.
Averting his eyes, Bohdi manages to murmur, “Thanks.”
She just shrugs and nods.
Trying to regain some of his dignity, Bohdi calls to Thor a few paces away. “I have some food—”
Thor grunts and says. “Keep it.” He pats a tiny leather satchel no bigger than a wallet and a small flask attached to his belt. “I have an endless supply of food and water right here.”
A few minutes later, Bohdi is sitting with Amy and Thor on boulders by the chariot. They are munching on rectangular biscuits that are savory, delicious, and strangely satisfying. Bohdi’s eyes slide to his companions. They’re both looking apprehensively at the sky. Thor says that Nornheim is full of dangers, but so far, the worst encounter they have had was with a particularly nasty low hanging cloud filled with biting shards of ice. Bohdi can’t bring himself to share their unease. The column rising up behind him dominates his thoughts. Was the little boy him, was the man on the bicycle his father? Their trip down the crowded street loops in his mind.
Maybe if he just tells Thor and Amy he’s going to hit the head, he can sneak back and…
Bohdi sits upright. He’s thinking the same way he did when Ruth wheedled him into giving up smoking. He swallows; he’s thinking like an addict, and he had only stared at the column for a few minutes.
Hands starting to shake, Bohdi reaches into his pocket and feels the familiar shape of his lighter. He closes his eyes, and the images on the column begin to replay.
“Would you like some water?” says Thor.
The words shake Bohdi out of the addictive feedback loop. Nodding, he takes the flask, tips it back, and drinks water as sweet and pure as any he’s tasted.
Handing the flask back, he thanks Thor, and the big man only nods at him then settles back into silence. Amy also eats quietly. The only sound is the drone of the insects. In his mind, he hears the ring of a bicycle bell. Had the bicycle had a bell?
The lack of conversation is suddenly oppressive. Unable to take the silence anymore, Bohdi pulls his lighter out of his pocket and spins the flywheel. Opening his mouth, without really thinking, he says, “So…everyone but me is here to find Loki.”
Sitting up very straight, Amy says, “How did you know about that?”
Bohdi’s face heats up. Whoops.
Avoiding that question, he turns to Thor. “Mind if I ask why? I mean, we’ve had two whole years of peace and quiet. Why not let sleeping dogs lie?”
He flicks the lighter in his hand and feels the burn of flame. The nameless boy and man in the image in the column fill his mind, the memory of the brief sense of contentment flits by him like a will-o-wisp. How many other families had Loki torn apart?
“Did I say dog? I meant psychopath.”
It’s only when Thor makes a loud rumbly noise and Amy makes a startled little hiccup that Bohdi realizes he’s said that out loud.
He flicks the lighter again. Steve always says Bohdi just can’t help stirring the pot. His nostrils flare. “Someone’s got to say it,” he mumbles, because obviously Amy and Thor are too nice to see it for themselves. He’s doing them a favor.
Standing from his boulder, Thor roars. “How dare you!”
Bohdi leans back. Before he can retort, Amy is up and standing between him and the space Viking. “He doesn’t know what Loki did!”
Bohdi’s memory isn’t that bad. “Yes, I do,” he snaps. “He killed thousands of people, turned some of them into popsicles, set cars on fire, destroyed buildings—”
Thor rumbles, and Amy shouts, “Loki wiped Bohdi’s memories—he’s got reason to be upset—and he doesn’t know!”
Bohdi’s nostrils flare. Standing, so he can look over Amy’s shoulder, he shouts, “Doesn’t know what?”
Snarling, Thor meets his gaze. “Loki saved the Nine Realms, including yours!”
Bohdi’s brows furrow as he glances back and forth at them. “By destroying Chicago’s financial district?” Bohdi says, impressed that he mostly managed to keep the sneer out of his voice. He feels the bite of flame on his thumb as he unconsciously flicks his lighter again.
Looking up at him, Amy says, “No. Cera the World Seed did that. She was controlling him. It took him awhile to trick her.”
Bohdi’s eyebrows jog up his forehead in disbelief.
Eyes still on Bohdi, Thor says, “Ratatoskr was there! He saw the whole thing with Dr. Lewis and delivered the message to the Nine Realms.”
With a snarl the big man turns and walks a few paces away. In a voice more anguished than angry he says, “Yet no one believes.”
“Yeah,” Bohdi mumbles. “Who wouldn’t believe a talking squirrel?” Not that he’s met the rodent in question. “Hey, isn’t this the Rat’s home realm or something? Shouldn’t he be here saying hello since he and Amy are buds?” He looks down at Amy, but her eyes are on Thor, her mouth pressed in a thin line.
Thor spins toward him. “But it is true! Loki took the World Seed into the In-Between and tricked it into destroying itself…giving birth to a new universe…and sacrificing his own life in the process!”
Bohdi stares at the large man, lip twitching. He glances at Amy for her reaction to that craziness.
She meets his eyes. When she speaks, her voice is sad. “It’s true.”
“Would that the honor was mine!” Thor rumbles. Bohdi’s gaze shifts to the large warrior. Thor has one fist over his chest, and he looks for all the world like he is about to cry.
Bohdi’s eyebrows hike, and the circuits in his brain start to work again. “Wait, Loki is dead?”
He finds himself looking at Amy, his chest suddenly feeling oddly light. Even in a shapeless fleece, she’s still cute. And she understands magical event horizons.
“Yes,” Amy says. “He’s dead.”
Bohdi’s mental circuits short. “But if he’s dead, why are we looking for him?”
“Chaos can’t die,” Amy says, cryptically.
Bowing his head, Thor says, “He will assume another form.”
Bohdi tilts his head. “Like reincarnation? Are we looking for a baby?” Wait, why is he saying we?
Shaking her head, Amy says, “Maybe…it’s not really like the Hindu concept of reincarnation. It’s more like chaos picks a body and hitches a ride. Or the universe picks a body…or…” She shrugs.
Bohdi squints and looks toward the bubble-gum pink sun a few hours from the horizon. A baby wouldn’t be so bad, but a full-grown Loki in any form…
“So, why exactly the big pressure to find him? I mean chaos…” Bohdi winces. “It’s not something most people want to find, right?” Chaos has a way of finding Bohdi, and he knows.
“He must be brought to Asgard. My father will care for him,” Thor says.
Amy spins to face Thor. “No, Thor! No! Your father will use him—and take advantage of him.”
Thor’s face goes blank.
Dipping her chin, Amy whispers, “You know he will.”
Something mournful enters Thor’s expression, his eyes don’t leave Amy’s, and for an uncomfortable moment, Bohdi feels like they’re having a conversation he can’t hear.
Thor drops his head. “Loki was my friend.”
Bohdi snorts. He does know something about the Norse mythology—having your brain wiped by a so-called Norse god will do wonders to stoke your curiosity.
Flicking his lighter, Bohdi says, “Didn’t Loki once steal a falcon cloak, go on a joy flight to Jotunheim, get his ass caught by some giant, then promise to bring you back to the giant’s castle unarmed so said giant could kill you?” His lips curl in an incredulous smile. In the myth, Loki lied to Thor to bring him to the giant’s doorstep without his hammer. “Didn’t you almost die due to your friend?”
Thor’s nostrils flare. “Do you take me for an idiot?”
Bohdi looks to the sky. “Well…”
Thor lifts his hammer, and Amy lunges to grab the big man’s arm. Practically dangling from Thor’s biceps, she looks over her shoulder and shouts. “It didn’t happen that way!”
Odin sits upon his throne. At Odin’s left, Baldur sits upon a high-backed chair, nearly as grand as Odin’s seat. To Odin’s right there is a small table; a plate of Idunn’s immortality-bestowing apples sits upon it. Odin doesn’t need Idunn’s apples to keep from aging, but he always partakes; he has a fondness for their taste.
As he stands obediently behind the Allfather, Loki’s eyes fall on the apples. Their wonderful aroma perfumes the air. He hasn’t had his share of Idunn’s harvest this year, and his mouth waters obscenely.
From the back of Odin’s seat, Huginn the raven clacks his beak at Loki. “Don’t even think about it.”
Loki scowls at the bird, but tries to turn his attention to the meeting at hand.
Odin’s advisers stand below the raised dais the father’s and son’s seats rest upon. Among the advisers are Heimdall and Thor.
Bowing his head, Heimdall says, “There have been attacks on Jotunn by the World Gates that lead to Asgard.”
Muninn rawks from a chandelier. “We can’t see under the attackers’ hoods!”
“Magic! Magic!” Huginn clacks.
Heimdall nods at the birds. “The attackers aren’t ashamed to use magic.” His eyes flick briefly to Loki. Loki sticks out his tongue.
Gaze snapping back to Odin, Heimdall says, “No Aesir used the World Gates immediately before or after the attacks. I believe the attackers to be Jotunn… Nonetheless, popular sentiment in Jotunheim declares the culprits to be us.”
From his seat, Baldur says, “Perhaps one of the Jotunn kings is trying to sow dissent against us?”
There are murmurs of agreement among the advisers, and Heimdall says, “I suspected as much.” Of course, everyone always agrees with Baldur…although even Loki thinks he has a point in this case. Jotunheim is a mess of warring kingdoms. If they were ever to unite, they would become a serious threat to Odin’s power. A perceived injustice of sufficient magnitude would be just the thing to make the Jotunn leaders cease their squabbling, and turn their spears toward Asgard.
Muninn rawks from the chandelier. “Tricky, tricky Jotunn.” He aims a beady eye at Loki. Loki is a full-blooded Jotunn. An orphan, he was rescued by Odin as a baby and brought to Asgard. Jotunn are normally regarded as the Aesir’s backward kin…though Odin himself is at least half Jotunn, and the mother of Thor is rumored to have been Jotunn as well.
Shaking his head, Heimdall says, “I have not been able to determine the identity of the culprit.”
On the throne, Odin runs a hand through his beard and sighs. “The Jotunn bristle at the increased tolls at the World Gate…”
Loki snorts. “Can you blame them? Their northern hemisphere is in the midst of a famine. It’s hard to use gold to purchase grain from the Vanir when you’ve already spent it to cross the World Gate.”
Several of the advisers grumble.
But Odin waves a hand at them. “Loki is right. Still, we cannot lower the toll for fear of encouraging similar acts of subterfuge in the future.”
Hefting Mjolnir in his hands, Thor says, “Let us declare war on Jotunheim! If the giants’ unrest is so easily incited, it is because in their hearts they are ready to wage war against us!”
Loki winces. He respects Thor…sometimes. Odin’s bastard son, Thor is one of the few Asgardians who doesn’t condemn Loki for allowing his half-blue daughter Helen to live. But sometimes Thor thinks only with his hammer. An Asgardian invasion would be just the thing to unite the Jotunn kings. And a war with a united Jotunheim would only be winnable at great cost—if it could be won at all.
Some of the advisers murmur in assent. Someone says, “Our young men grow restless. It would be a good distraction. And it would be an excellent opportunity for Prince Baldur to lead our armies.”
Loki sees Baldur pale. Clearing his throat, the prince says, “To punish all of Jotunheim for the machinations of a few is not noble.”
Loki doesn’t sigh. Although Baldur’s fear at the prospect of leading armies is very much evident to Loki, he’s sure that to the rest of the men in the room Baldur sounds merely wise.
Tapping his fingers nervously on the arm of his chair, the prince adds, “Nor is it a great victory to slaughter those who are already weakened by famine.”
Loki lifts an eyebrow. He very much doubts that a campaign in Jotunheim would result in slaughter for just the Jotunns. Even starving Jotunns are deadly; they’ll turn to eating their own dead rather than submit quietly to Aesir boots in their lands. And the southern kingdoms are still very strong. Loki smirks. A campaign by the Aesir might be just the thing to unite the kingdoms of Frost Giants—and that would spell disaster for the “stability” Odin prides himself in keeping in the Nine Realms.
“We must weed out the troublemakers,” Odin says.
Bowing his head, Heimdall says, “I will redouble my efforts.”
Huginn and Muninn flutter their wings. “We will fly now.”
Odin nods at the birds and they take to wing, flying through an open window in the great hall. To the rest of the room, Odin says, “Dismissed!”
There are bows around the room. Turning as a group the advisers file out. Thor, apparently upset that he won’t be smashing any Jotunn heads anytime soon, crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t budge; his lips turn down in an obvious pout. Baldur starts to stand, but Odin motions for him to sit.
Hopping down from the dais, covertly palming one of Odin’s apples as he does, Loki pats Thor on the shoulder. “Better luck next time, Thor. Let’s go eat.”
“Stay, Loki,” says Odin. Loki sighs but stops and pulls the apple out of his sleeve. Turning to give it back to the Allfather he says, “It was only a little joke—”
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