Urban Mythic: Thirteen Novels of Adventure and Romance, featuring Norse and Greek Gods, Demons and Djinn, Angels, Fairies, Vampires, and Werewolves in the Modern World

by C. Gockel

  As though from a great distance he hears the crackle of fire, and screaming — his mind supplying the details of Valli , Nari, Hoenir, Mimir’s and Sigyn’s brutal ends?

  And then another sound comes. Loud and insistent — the sound of a car calling for its master. Loki blinks...Amy and Beatrice...he has an oath to keep to them.

  He wants to stay, he wants to fight Odin and his legions — not to win, to die. Helen, Aggie, now Valli, Nari, Sigyn, and even Mimir and Hoenir. He squeezes his eyes shut. It’s because of him, somehow it is all because of him. Loki knows there is no afterlife, no Valhalla for the valiant, no Hel for the meek. And that is good, he wants the release of nothingness.

  The car calls again — it sounds so close, and the way its call echoes through the palace it sounds almost as though it is inside. Taking a sharp breath he opens his eyes. He doesn’t break oaths.

  That thought is the thread of strength that makes him stand up. He looks around. To one side is the receiving room he entered by last night, to the other side is the elf queen’s bedroom, now in flames. She stands in front of him, haloed by the fire, her face calm. “Once again you leave me for a mortal,” she says.

  Loki has no time for her games. Narrowing his eyes he says, “How long do I have?”

  “I will give you five minutes to leave the palace grounds before I send the guards after you. After that you’re on your own.”

  Loki tilts his head. In the receiving chambers he hears the crackle of more flames.

  “I cannot afford to let Odin think I allowed you to escape,” says the queen.

  “Of course not,” Loki hisses. For a moment the air between them shimmers. Loki wants to see her smooth beautiful body burst into flames. But another part...another part of him feels sorrow, pity and guilt that he cannot understand.

  The queen’s face is as unworried as a Greek statue, and that’s a shame. Such a beautiful face would be more beautiful with emotion on it — even if the emotion were anger or hatred.

  “You don’t have time for this,” the elf queen says. “Run.”

  Loki stares at her a heartbeat more. And then securing his makeshift pack over his shoulder, he backs away from her into the receiving room. The door to the secret passage is open, the covering tapestry nowhere in sight.

  Loki runs.

  Chapter 10

  Maybe it won’t be so bad if the elves alert Asgard, and presumably Odin, that Loki is in Alfheim. Maybe Odin will just take Loki, send Beatrice and Amy home, and be on his way.

  Or maybe he’ll leave Amy and Beatrice in Alfheim forever.

  Amy swallows. The truth is, no matter what mercy Odin might grant to her and Beatrice, Amy’s worried about Loki. Twisted and perverted as he may be, if it weren’t for him she wouldn’t be alive — or have ever seen a hadrosaur.

  Hands shaking, Amy drives up the road to the elf palace. The sky has turned overcast. There is no starlight, just the light of the green orbs that seem to be the elven version of street lights. A light drizzle is in the air. At the top of a staircase of long low stairs, four elf guards stand in front of the wide front door. As she gets closer, they cross their spears. It will take a long time for Beatrice to get down those stairs...and Amy still has to find her.

  Biting her lip, Amy stares at the guards. And then she is struck by inspiration.

  Pressing a button on her keychain, she lets the car alarm shriek. The guards visibly jump.

  From the door the elf in black who had spoken to Loki emerges. “What going on?” he says.

  Turning off the alarm and switching into 4 wheel drive, Amy sticks her head out the window. “My car, he wants to come in — we hurt his feelings leaving him out all night and now he’s worried about Fjölnir and Beatrice!” Hitting the gas, she edges to the stairs. Craning her head out the window, she adds, “Please, open the door! He’ll be good if you just let him in and we find them.”

  The elf in black says something to the guards again. They eye the car warily but open the doors. The man in black runs inside.

  Slipping back into the driver’s seat, Amy puts her foot on the gas and bumps up the steps.

  She hits the horn as soon as she gets into the foyer and then jumps out of the car. Pressing the alarm button again, she says, “Don’t go near him! He might bite!” Then she runs around the car towards the dining hall and her mouth falls open.

  The elf in black is leading four other elves who are carrying a large chair between them. On the chair slumped over asleep is Beatrice.

  Looking visibly worried, the elf in black says, “She drink too much our mead. Beastly chariot not angry?”

  Amy’s mouth forms a small ‘o’. “I think he’ll be fine if we just put her inside and he can see she’s alright.”

  Shaking his head, the elf in black says, “We not mean insult. Not know chariot have feelings.”

  Trying to keep a straight face, Amy says, “It’s okay, I’m sure he’ll understand...” She looks at her grandmother snoring softly. Maybe it’s for the best she won’t be awake. She has a feeling this will be a rough ride.

  Running down the steps of the secret passage, Loki has no idea how he’ll manage to round-up Beatrice and Amy in time to escape the grounds in only a few minutes.

  He bursts into the first private receiving chamber, still lit by fireflies. And then he hears it again. The car...it sounds so close. Could it be?

  He runs through the door, down a passage, and around a corner, and his eyes go wide. The car is parked in the foyer of the palace. Some elves and Amy are securing Beatrice in the back seat.

  “That’s good,” says Amy. “Get out, please. Don’t make the car mad. He doesn’t know you, thank you, that’s good...now we need to find Fjölnir...”

  She turns around and her eyes fall on him and go wide. “Lo — Fjölnir!” The car gives a happy little chirp. “Car is so happy to see you!”

  Loki blinks for a moment. She’s lying; he can feel it.

  Raising her voice above the murmuring of the crowd that is rapidly forming, she says, “Car wants to go home, so we have to go. Now.” She hops into the driver’s side, and motions to Loki to get into the passenger’s side. He hurries to comply, throwing his sack of armor and sword on the floor of the back seat in front of Fenrir and a gently snoring Beatrice.

  Before he’s even closed the door, Amy’s sticking her head out the window saying,“Thanks for everything, everyone!” The car starts to move and she says, “Oh, sorry! Car is anxious! Long, lonely night for him! Got to go!” She pulls all the way into the car, turns it around, and heads towards the door and the stairs. The car gives a few more happy beeps.

  Loki stares at her, stunned. It was all lies. Brilliant lies, on her part and possibly Car’s. How did she know?

  “They sent messengers to Asgard, Loki,” Amy says, as they bump down the front steps of the palace. “I’m not sure...but I thought maybe we should leave.”

  “Good thought,” he says. He owes this girl more respect than he’s given her.

  A look of confusion crosses her face. “Where is your armor? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

  But in some ways...she is really so naive. Normally, he might make a joke, but he feels too empty. “Drive as fast as you can; we don’t have much time.”

  Scowling at the wheel, she says, “Why? What happened? ”

  “Just drive,” he says.

  “Did you get your answers?” she asks.

  “Just drive,” he says. “Please!”

  There must be something in his voice, because she hits the gas. It’s still dark outside. There is the soft patter of rain on the car roof. Ahead, a long shadow is covering the gate of the palace. Loki’s heart skips a beat. At his feet is the army knapsack. Reaching into it he pulls out a grenade.

  “The gate!” Amy cries. “It’s open but the vines are down. Can they hurt the car?”

  Loki has no idea. Before he can say anything, the girl says, “Is that a grenade in your hand? Use it!”

  The to
p window opens. Loki’s not sure how, but he doesn’t have to be told twice. “Stop Car!” he shouts.

  The car screeches to a halt and he stands up in the rain. Blinking to clear his vision, he flings the grenade at the curtain of vines. Pulling back into the car, he pushes Amy down so they are both protected by the dash. There is a boom, the car shakes, but the window does not shatter. They both sit up to see a large hole in the curtain, but long tendrils are already snaking down to close it.

  Hitting the gas without even being asked, Amy grumbles. “I don’t want to be stuck here with these pointy-eared fascists!”

  He looks at her for an instant. She is wearing clothing finer than she probably has ever worn or will ever wear again. Her hair is upswept, with crystal flowers woven into it. She looks radiant and beautiful, and if she stayed here the elves could help her remain so for a time...in her own realm she’ll be doomed to fade and age so quickly. Yet she wants to leave. Part of him wants to smile at her, but he can’t. His face feels frozen into a slight scowl and a frown. He has a lump in his throat that has nothing to do with her.

  He hears a rumble of hooves and heavy feet behind them. “That will be the guards,” he says. He looks up; the top window is already closed. He touches his wet face and looks at the pavement shining beneath the green orbs.

  Amy’s eyes go to the rear-view mirror. “What? Why are they following us? They seemed fine letting us go...maybe we should stop?”

  Loki feels the car start to slow. “No, do not stop! It’s a ruse — the queen cannot let Odin think she let us go too easily.”

  The girl speeds up a little but her eyes dart to the mirror again. “They’re closing in fast...” Turning her attention back to the road, she swallows. “I can’t go much faster than them on the hairpin turns, especially since the road is wet.”

  “Go as fast as you can,” Loki says, bracing himself as she makes a sharp turn.

  “I am, I am!” Amy says, a frantic note in her voice. Car’s wheels screech and Loki hears the shouts and hooves of the rapidly approaching cavalry.

  He scowls. He needs to put on his armor, but their pursuers are catching up to them too fast. Reaching up, he taps the overhead window that now is closed. “Car, open up.”

  Amy looks at him, eyes wide. The window slides open, and Loki stands up.

  “What are you doing?” Amy shouts, her voice just audible over the sound of the rain, the hoof beats of the elves’ horses, and the lowing of the hadrosaurs.

  Not responding, Loki turns to face their pursuers.

  “Halt now!” one cries in the elf tongue. “By order of the All Father!”

  They don’t shoot at him, though some carry bows. Odin must want him alive — he won’t let that happen again.

  Loki thinks of the brief flare of hope he had when he saw Valli and Nari in the pool disappearing into the hut, and then the cold realization just moments later when he saw the flames. Let the elves feel the hollow cold of his heart.

  Car makes another sharp turn, and Loki is nearly thrown out. Righting himself, he focuses on the rain falling on his pursuers, and the water rivulets running down the cobblestone street. He sees the magic between the water and himself and he pulls on it, tugs at it, imagines the magic stilling the water, calming it, deep at the molecular level — so the water’s spinning hydrogen atoms lock together and crystals form on the ground and in the sky.

  Horses scream and the hadrosaurs bellow in terror as the rain turns to snow, and the road behind Car turns to ice.

  “What’s going on?” says Amy.

  Loki falls panting back through the open window.

  “Ice...you turned the road to ice...” Amy says, eyes in the mirror.

  Turning his head, Loki looks back. Where there had been at least a dozen elves on horseback before, and two hadrosaurs, now there are no dinosaur mounts, and only four horsemen are left — but they are pulling out lances and looking very determined.

  Rain is streaking in through the open roof.

  Amy glances at him, eyes wide. “You probably broke the horses’ legs.”

  “Not enough of them,” Loki says, lip curling upward.

  “You can’t do that!” Amy says. “It’s not the horses’ faults!” She twists the wheel as they take another sharp turn.

  He stares at her a moment in disbelief. And then his disbelief turns to rage, red and hot beneath his skin. “Fine,” he says. “I won’t use ice this time.” He stands up again.

  “What — ”

  He can’t hear the rest of what she says. He looks back at the horsemen in the rain. “Stop now, Loki!” one calls. “You’ll never get through the main gate!”

  Loki lets his rage loose in a scream. What he expects to happen, happens. Magic rips the water molecules apart into oxygen and hydrogen, and excites the hydrogen atoms to the point where they burst into flame. But it should have just been a little spark in the air before the horses’ eyes. Instead a wall of flame forms between Car and the riders, as thick and as high as the flames that overcame Hoenir’s hut.

  Loki falls back into the car, his eyes wide. Amy is silent, but he sees her hands shaking.

  He hardly feels as though he’s exerted any energy at all. He looks over his shoulder. The flames still burn — he can’t see beyond them. Something is wrong. He’s not that strong. “Gala...” he murmurs to himself. “It must have been the queen’s doing.”

  “What?” says Amy.

  “She wants to let me escape,” Loki says almost to himself. “But needs it to look like an accident...”

  The flames behind them make the window in front of them reflective for a brief moment. Loki catches sight of his face, slightly blue in the strange light. For an instant he is looking at his daughter Helen’s face, or half her face. He shakes his head. Is he going mad with grief?

  Car’s wheels screech, and Loki’s body bangs into the door as they make another sharp turn. And then they’re at the marketplace. Car’s horn lets out a loud alarm. Some elves part and run in front of them.

  “Ummm...” says Amy. “If she wants us to escape, why’d she lock the front door?”

  Looking at the closed doors of the heavy metal gate, Loki’s heart falls. He doesn’t know any trick to open it — he can move small things with his mind, but this is too large, too heavy, and too fireproof. He looks down at the bag at his feet. There is one more grenade, but it won’t be strong enough...his jaw tightens. He reaches into the bag, and says, “Car, open your top window again!” Loki doesn’t remember when it even closed.

  Hitting the brakes, Amy gives him a funny look. But the window opens. Standing up, Loki pulls the pin and hurls the last grenade. He pulls back into the car. Amy’s already ducking. Loki presses himself down as far as he can, his chest pressing against Amy’s back.

  The blast goes off, and the car rattles. Loki and Amy both lift themselves up. The gate is closed.

  “Oh,” says Amy, her shoulders sagging.

  Loki closes his eyes. “I won’t be taken alive,” he says. “Not this time. I’ll fight to the death.”

  There is a loud creak.

  He opens his eyes and blinks. There is a shimmer of magic the color of moonlight, and then the gate creaks again and swings open. In the open way stands the elf queen, or more likely an astral projection of her, considering she floats above the ground.

  In her own language she says, “Be gone from my realm, and set no more of my people aflame — or not only Odin will hunt you!”

  Loki blinks. He didn’t create that inferno...did he?

  “What did she say?” Amy says, hunching over the wheel.

  In front of them, the projection disappears. “She wishes us well and bids us be on our way,” says Loki.

  Amy puts her foot on the gas. “It sounded more like she was angry.”

  “Mmmm...” says Loki settling back into his seat. “Go quickly as you can. The armies of Asgard will be upon us quickly.”

  “Armies?” squeaks Amy, turning out onto the lane that wi
ll take them to the Border Road.

  “Don’t worry,” Loki says. “I’m sure you’ll be able to convince Odin that you were deceived by the God of Lies and he’ll spare your lives.”

  Car’s lights become even brighter and Amy speeds up. Her voice shaking, she says, “I would rather you not die either.”

  Loki looks over at her, his mouth still frozen in a frown, his brows still knit together. He brings destruction to everything he touches, and everyone he loves. He wants to die.

  Amy casts a worried glance in his direction.

  He cannot die now. He has an oath to keep.

  Without a word he turns in his seat and begins to rummage through the makeshift sack for his armor. Beatrice is still asleep, but Fenrir eyes him curiously.

  He’s got his shirt on and is awkwardly attaching his breast plate when Amy turns onto the border road. She steps on the gas and they surge forward at what feels like dizzying speed. They’re still in a relatively populous region; farmlands line the road on their left. They don’t have to worry about dark elves just yet.

  He tilts his head. Over the elf queen’s lands, the sky is just starting to lighten.

  He’s sure it must be taking all of Amy’s concentration to remain on the road, but then she begins to speak. “You were blue for a few moments when the fire started. Is that your natural color? I thought Frost Giants only turned blue when they were cold.”

  He freezes, his hands on the buckle of an arm guard. “I don’t turn blue.” He isn’t Helen.

  “You looked blue,” says Amy.

  “That was a trick of the light,” Loki says, his voice coming out nearly a hiss. He doesn’t have time for this inane chatter.

  “You looked good blue. Not like in the movies with pointy teeth and a giant horny head,” she says her words running together as though she’s just speaking to hear herself speak. “More like — ”

  “Be quiet,” he snaps.