by C. Gockel
Drawing to a stop, Amy tilts her head. “What are they doing?”
The elf woman next to her bites her lip. “The orb magic water...used up. They empty. They refill new magic water.”
Amy’s eyes widen. “Are they flushing it down the toilet?” Despite the quaintness of the elf architecture, they do have flush toilets, thankfully.
The elf woman bites her lip again. “Yes. But don’t worry. Dark water goes down to delta. We get drinking water and fish up river.”
Fenrir begins tugging at the leash, and the elf woman pulls Amy down the passageway. Amy follows obediently, but the image of the river churning brown and black towards the dark lands is heavy in her mind.
A few paces later, they are stepping out into the cool night air onto a path of worn stones. The green orbs hover in the air, and light blue fireflies dance around them.
“What is your name?” Amy asks.
“Dolinar,” says the elf woman.
“Dolinar,” says Amy. “Do elves live down river?”
For a moment there is just the sound of Fenrir’s leash in the grass, and Dolinar’s and Amy’s footfalls. And then Dolinar says quietly, “Yes. But only thieves, murderers, traitors...and those who will not obey the life price.”
The night air suddenly feels very chill. Clutching her arms to her chest, Amy says, “That’s wrong. Even if it’s criminals down river, poisoning them is still wrong.”
Dolinar looks quickly to the palace, and then back to Amy. Pointed ears trembling, she whispers, “Yes, I think so, too.”
They stare at one another a moment. It occurs to Amy that even dressed in plain servants’ garb, Dolinar looks more noble than Amy ever will. Dolinar’s hair is a deep walnut brown. Her eyes are hazel, and Amy is sure she sees light flickering in them. Her facial features are so delicate, and so perfect; her body is as small and poised as a ballet dancer.
Dolinar looks away from the palace and into the darkness. “My life mate works in stables. You say you are studying to be animal doctor. Want to see animals?”
Amy’s eyes widen, and she starts walking into the darkness and direction of Dolinar’s gaze. “Let’s go!”
A few minutes later they are approaching a building that is at least four stories tall. Through narrow windows Amy sees the glow of green orbs. There is an enormous door at the front, but Dolinar leads her around to a small door in the back.
As soon as they enter the stables, Dolinar runs forward. Out of the shadows an elf man in drab pants and a simple shirt comes forward. His hair is long and blonde, his eyes are brown. He takes Dolinar in his arms and they begin speaking quickly in their own tongue.
It’s touching, but Amy’s eyes almost immediately go down the row of stalls. Her mouth opens. On one side of the stable are horses. On the other are hadrosaurs. The dinosaurs sit on their powerful hind limbs, their front limbs pulled up, and their beak-like snouts turned on their long necks and tucked against their bodies. They look like nothing so much as roosting birds.
Feet moving of their own accord, she approaches one of the sleeping dinosaur’s enclosure. The creature untucks its neck, brings its large snout around and blinks yellow eyes. Between its eyes and its colorful, nearly iridescent scales, it looks like a giant parrot. A small gasp comes from Amy’s lips.
“She gentle,” comes a man’s voice from behind her. He says something in elvish and then Dolinar says, “You may touch her, if you wish.”
Amy doesn’t have to be coaxed. She holds out a hand. The hadrosaur brings its snout forward and sniffs. Then walking forward on its large hind legs, it drops its snout and begins rubbing the side of its head against Amy’s fingers. Up close, its scales are actually more like feathers, and they are soft as a chick’s down. Amy bites back a laugh of pure wonderment. She doesn’t doubt that the moment is real. She can smell the familiar smells of horses and straw, but there is also the smell of the hadrosaur, very akin to a bird. The animal is making soft huffing noises, and Amy catches the odor of its breath, warm and thick with the smell of half digested vegetation. It’s wonderful. Magical.
Suddenly, everything that has happened — her horrible sickening run-in with a psychopath, her fear, the horrible sensation that her life was just a dream, the elves Amy is beginning to suspect are charming fascists, Loki frightening her in the kitchen, and his terrible come-ons, it is all worth it. Even if she can’t breathe a word of this moment to anyone except Beatrice; she will know it happened. The universe seems to be grinding along with such beautiful perfection, and Amy’s part may be insignificant, but it is still wonderful.
She rubs the hadrosaur’s head and finds a small opening. She smiles; it is the animal’s ear. She scratches just behind it and the hadrosaur lets loose a deep, pleasant, lowing noise.
“She like you,” says Dolinar.
Amy doesn’t say anything. Just continues rubbing a few minutes more, feeling the exquisite, alien and yet familiar softness of the creature’s scales. She can feel her pulse racing just from the sheer joy of it. This perfect moment, it is all Loki’s fault, and that thought almost makes her laugh.
The hadrosaur abruptly pulls itself further upright, shakes its head, and then tucks its snout against its body again.
“Now go back to sleep,” says man.
Smiling, Amy turns to them. “Thank you so much...” She blinks at them standing arm in arm. Her brain disconnects from the moment she’s just experienced. Tilting her head at the lovely couple she says, “How come you speak English?”
Squeezing the man’s hand, Dolinar steps forward. “We do not speak English. We use magic to translate. My life mate, Liddel, and I study magic in secret.”
Face very serious, Liddel draws closer to Dolinar. “We would like to learn more magic. We are both hard workers and we were wondering...”
“We have to leave,” Dolinar says quickly. Amy’s eyes widen and she steps back.
Dolinar swallows. “We haven’t paid the life price. ”
Overwhelmed and confused, Amy says in a small voice, “Life price?”
“I am pregnant,” says Dolinar and Amy’s eyes flash between the two elves. “But no one in family has died so it is not allowed. Balance of elves and other creatures will be disrupted....”
Charming fascists indeed! “They aren’t going to kill your baby?” Amy gasps.
Dolinar and Liddel blink at her. “No,” says Liddel. “They will take him away.”
“Oh,” says Amy. That is better — but not by much.
“Fjölnir,” says Dolinar. “The Frost Giant you came with, we see his magic, he is very powerful...maybe more powerful than queen.”
“Would he take us as apprentices?” says Liddel. “Just me for now, but later...”
From outside there come loud shouts and the sound of horns. Liddel’s eyes widen. “It is the royal messengers. They may be angered if they know I’ve let you both into Queen’s stables. Hide!”
Dolinar takes Amy’s hand and pulls her and Fenrir towards a hadrosaur stall. She opens the latch with trembling hands as Liddel walks to the main door, shouting something. Amy, Fenrir and Dolinar swing into the stall next to an oblivious hadrosaur, and Dolinar shuts the stall door just as the main door of the stables swings open, and green orbs float in above.
There is much shouting and whinnying of horses. Amy scoops Fenrir up and wraps her hand around her dog’s muzzle before she can bark. Wiggling in her arms, Fenrir makes muffled yipping noises anyway.
Outside the stall door, someone says something that sounds like a question. Amy hears Liddel responding. The stall door rattles.
Turning towards Fenrir, eyes wide, Dolinar points a finger at the dog’s mouth just as her muzzle slips through Amy’s fingers. Fenrir opens her mouth, the stall door rattles again, and Amy’s heart misses a beat. Her dog’s jaws open and shut, Amy can see her tiny lungs heave...but then no sound comes out. Amy looks at Dolinar...the elf woman’s brow looks damp and she brings a finger to her lips.
Fenrir blinks and
starts rubbing her muzzle.
The door of the stall shakes, and then someone says something, and Amy hears footsteps going away. Heart pounding in her ears, she lets out a breath and settles into the shadow of the hadrosaur, still sleeping peacefully.
Amy’s not sure how long it is before the elves leave the stable; it feels like an eternity. She hears the sound of livery being readied, and hooves marching out into the night. At last, the stall door swings open, and Liddel’s form appears. Looking perplexed, he says, “The messenger and an armed escort is going to the World Gate. It’s strange so late in the evening.”
“World Gate?” says Amy. “World Gate to where?”
The elves turn to her and look at her as though she has asked a silly question. “To Asgard.”
Amy’s heart leaps to her throat. “I have to get my grandmother...I have to get my car...” She runs forward and takes Dolinar’s hands. “I don’t know if Loki needs an apprentice, but I’m sure he’ll let you come with us.”
“Loki?” say Dolinar and Liddel in unison.
Amy puts her hand to her mouth. The one thing she wasn’t supposed to do and she’s done it!
The elves look at each other and whisper back and forth in their own language. Liddel puts a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “We thank you for your kindness. Perhaps it would be better for you if you come with us to the Dark Lands.”
Amy looks between them. Their eyes are wide and sincere.
“No, no, he’s really not that bad,” Amy says. “He saved my life...and he’s kind, a little pervy, ...but...”
The elves exchange glances.
“Please don’t tell!” Amy says. “Just please don’t tell.”
Liddel’s eyes narrow. “We will tell no one.”
Narrowing her own eyes, Dolinar smiles slightly...and it’s not a kind smile. “Let the queen deal with the breaker of worlds.”
Chapter 9
Loki pulls his neck back instinctively from the sharp bite of his blade. He just needs a moment’s distraction. He glances around the room. Perhaps if he set the curtains on fire...
Hissing, the elf queen steps forward and he feels the point nip at his skin again. His eyes return to the shining piece of steel.
“You should not be awake,” she says. That answers a question at the back of his mind. She’d enchanted him. He searches for something pithy to say, but before he can open his mouth, she shakes the book and shouts, “My lover’s book. You have it! Why?”
The book is Lothur’s journal. Hoenir gave it to Loki centuries ago. Shocked by the question, Loki just stares at her dumbly. She wears only a dressing gown tied loosely at the waist. Her eyes are narrow and too wet, her mouth open and slightly turned down. He tries to parse the emotions he is seeing: anger, sadness, disbelief.
“Can you read it!” she says, pricking the blade beneath his chin. He feels the warm ooze of a trickle of blood.
Loki scrambles backwards on his elbows, the sheet falling away from his bare chest. “Gala—,” he starts to whisper.
“How do you know that name?” the elf queen shouts, sword shaking dangerously in her hands. “Only she knew that name!”
Loki blinks. How does he know it? Amy told him...but it’s more than that. She lowers the blade a fraction. “Can you read the book?” she says her voice a low hiss.
Staring at the gleaming steel, he says, “Yes.”
“Prove it!” she says, throwing the small, ancient volume towards him.
Loki’s heart nearly stops as the book tumbles through the air and opens like a bird. Heedless of the blade, Loki throws up his hands and catches it as gently as he can. Glaring at her, he pulls it to his chest.
“Read,” she says. Taking a step forward, she brings the blade to his neck again.
He blinks and looks down. The book has fallen open. It always opens to the same place; it’s a passage Loki knows well. He makes a move to turn the page, but the elf queen says, “No, read that page. I know that page.”
Loki looks up at her and then down at the book. He doesn’t like reading this passage. There is something about it. It makes his heart fall and a lump form in his throat. He reads it anyway, maybe because of the sword in the queen’s hand, or maybe because with it open in front of him, he can’t turn away.
"And I have dreams of my love, who was not my love, but was. Her father said words low against me, so low that it caused her heart to flame.“
Swallowing, Loki tries to banish the imagery that dances in his mind. The passage is too real. Not like a story, more like a memory.
“Keep going,” says the elf queen.
With a deep breath, Loki reads. “And the flame of her heart spread to the utmost ends of her limbs. My love died in flames..."
There is a loud clang. The vision of flames in Loki’s eyes vanishes. He looks up to see the elf queen has dropped the blade on the ground. She stands before him, her shoulders slouched, her face empty. “Only my lover, and Lothur, could read that book,” she says.
Loki looks down at the pages. There was an entry at the very beginning where Lothur said he’d enchanted the volume to be readable by no one but himself. But Loki could read it; he’d always assumed that Lothur was a touch mad.
Suddenly very curious, Loki says, “But my lady, you have the Gift of Tongues. You must be able to read it.”
Shaking her head and not meeting his eyes, she says, “No. No, I cannot.” Swallowing, she meets his gaze, her eyes red, her ears trembling slightly. Despite the rude awakening, Loki has an inexplicable desire to go to her and comfort her.
He resists on principle. Tilting his head, he says, “This book was a gift. I did not steal it from...” he lets his words drift off.
“Loka,” she says. “Loka...she died over 2,500 years ago. I betrayed her to Odin.”
That is long before Loki’s time, but he feels a ripple of anger on Loka’s behalf. Loki shuts the book sharply.
The queen meets his eyes. Her jaw goes hard. “I sent the royal messengers to Asgard moments before you awoke.” Turning quickly she says, “Gather your armor and meet me at the pool. We have only a little time to find your sons, and for you to make your escape.”
Loki looks around the bedchamber at his blade lying on the floor and his armor strewn about like a jigsaw puzzle. Cursing, he rolls out of the bed, pulls on his breeches, and then yanks a sheet off the mattress. Spreading the sheet out, he tosses his armor onto it, then gathers it up by the corners, throws it over his back, and grabs his sword.
As he paces into the other room, he has half a mind to run the elf queen through with his blade. But she’s standing over the pool. It’s casting white light on her face, and the murderous thought is subverted by curiosity.
He goes to where she stands and looks into the water. Instead of their reflections he sees the front of Hoenir’s hut, its door flung open to the night. Hoenir and Sigyn are standing there and Loki’s eyes widen.
“This is a few days ago,” says the queen.
There is a flash of light outside the hut, and there are Valli and Nari, falling to the ground and gasping for air. Loki squats to the floor in front of the pond and holds out his hand as though to touch them, his mouth falling open in hope and relief. In the pool, Hoenir and Sigyn run forward and pull Loki’s boys into the hut. “They’re alive,” he says running a hand through his hair. “They’re alive.” He feels lighter. Like laughing aloud, like picking up the queen and spinning her around, faithless witch and betrayer though she may be.
The elf queen begins to chant. The scene begins to move too quickly, like a human film played too fast. Dawn glows on the horizon beyond the hut and Heimdall appears with armed guards. Valkyries swoop and land to encircle the small dwelling. Loki scowls as Odin walks onto the scene and stands just within the circle of guards, about ten paces from Hoenir’s door. Loki can’t hear the words, but he sees Odin’s lips moving.
Heart beating too loud in his chest, Loki watches as Heimdall goes forward. He is accompanied by Skaddi, a Fr
ost Giant like Loki and the self proclaimed “goddess of justice.”
The Valkyries begin to raise their spears, lightning flashes on the scene, and all eyes turn. Thor appears. Guards fall back to let him pass. He goes and speaks quietly to Odin and Heimdall. Heimdall scowls and Thor walks forward, turns so his back is to the hut, and holds up his hammer.
Loki’s mouth falls open. “He’s protecting them. Thor is protecting them!”
The guards don’t move, but Loki sees them scowl. Heimdall is saying something to Odin, and Loki can tell without hearing that the gatekeeper is shouting. Loki sees a few Valkyries pound their spears. He can see them shouting, too. Someone shoots a bolt of fire; it seems to go into the sky...
But then at the top of Hoenir’s roof, there is a burst of flame. A swarm of butterfly snakes take to the air, birds with lizard heads take wing. New flames lick at the foundations; Loki doesn’t know how they even got there.
Thor turns and tries to rush into the hut, but Heimdall and Odin hold him back.
Loki’s eyes widen. “What is happening, what is happening!” Loki shouts. In the scene in the pool Thor holds up his arm, and Loki sees the sky darken. Thor’s calling rain. Loki has never been so grateful he gave Thor the damned hammer.
The queen chants more quickly. The scene in the pool is smoky and obscure, but Loki sees the flames leap, even as the rain begins to fall. The flames surround the hut like a curtain. He can’t make out doors, windows or chimney. Odin pounds Gungnir into the earth in front of the hut and leaves it there upright.
The scene is moving incredibly fast. It’s early morning there in the pool...and the curtain of flames is falling. He sees the downpour is now a drizzle
Gungnir is gone...and Hoenir’s hut is not there. Where the hut stood there is only charred ground.
Loki stares at the pool, not really seeing it. He feels as though a weight was briefly lifted from his body and then hurled down upon him. He puts his hands to his head, runs his fingers through his hair, scraping his nails against his scalp with such force it hurts.
