by C. Gockel
x x x x
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—”
Baldur rolls his eyes and leans back on one elbow. Waving a hand, Odin says, “You can eat the apple. Thor, leave us.”
Shrugging, Loki takes a bite of the fruit. His eyes slide back into his head at his first taste of the season’s harvest. Idunn’s apples are tart-sweet and sour like life. A trickle of juice threatens to escape down Loki’s chin. He catches it quickly with the flick of his tongue, unwilling to let even a bit of the fruit’s magic escape.
Thor does not budge. Uncrossing his arms, he reaches for his hammer with one hand and gestures toward the heavens with the other. “If Heimdall and your ravens haven’t found the instigator yet, what makes you think they’ll find him now?”
As Loki chews on the apple’s crisp flesh, Odin sighs wearily. “I don’t expect them to,” Odin says.
Thor tilts his head. “Then how—”
Leaning back on his throne, Odin says, “Loki will find him.”
Loki almost spits out the bite of apple in his mouth. “Pardon?”
Turning his gaze to Loki, Odin says, “You will leave immediately.”
The tangy taste of apple turns to dust in his mouth. “Surely I’ll have time to say goodbye to Aggie—”
Will his wife believe that he’s leaving on Odin’s orders? Or will she think he’s running from her and Helen? Everyone blames Aggie for Helen’s twisted frame and half-blue skin—though Loki knows it’s his fault. Nothing he does ever goes quite right.
Odin shakes his head. “The sooner you leave, Loki, the less chance Jotunn spies will be able to inform their masters of your visit.”
Loki’s heart drops. He can send a projection to say goodbye to his wife and child…but that isn’t the same.
Thor claps a hand down on Loki’s shoulder. “And I will go with you!” As usual, Thor’s aggressive affection nearly makes Loki fall over, but he’s never been so grateful for the weight.
“No, Thor,” says Odin. “This is a task Loki needs to do alone.”
“Alone?” squeaks Loki. In Jotunheim?
“How will he even survive?” says Thor. “The Jotunn view him as a traitor—” Shaking his great head, Thor says. “You ask him to do the impossible!”
Odin nods at Thor. “Which is why he will succeed.”
“How?” says Loki
.
Odin meets his gaze and gives him a surprisingly warm smile. “I don’t know. But you will figure it out.”
Loki stares at the king, his stomach twisting into knots. On the one hand, the display of faith is oddly touching. On the other hand. “Aggie,” he whispers.
“Will be taken care of,” says Baldur too quickly.
Loki’s head snaps in the direction of his former romantic rival. Thor’s hand tightens on his shoulder.
“Of course, of course, I will assure you of her welfare indefinitely no matter what the outcome,” Odin says, waving a hand absently. His gaze falls hard upon Loki. “But I know you will succeed. You’re dismissed, Loki.”
Loki’s eyes fall on Baldur. The other man is looking at him, his gaze as fierce as a hawk.
“Come on, Loki,” Thor whispers, pulling him toward the door.
“You will not go with him, Thor,” Odin says. Turning, Thor bows once and says, “You have my word, Father.” And then he hastens to Loki’s side.
As Loki stumbles, eyes unseeing, out of Odin’s great hall, Thor says, “How does the Allfather expect you to manage traveling through Jotunheim alone? It’s not just the Jotunn you must fear, it is the yeti and the—”
“Shut up, Thor!” Loki says.
Thor shuts up. For all of three seconds. “I am just worried about you. Jotunheim’s lands are perilous!”
“You’re not helping, Thor!” Loki spits, rolling his eyes heavenward. His eyes catch on some sparrows fluttering in the eaves of Odin’s hall.
“Why would the Allfather give this task to you alone?” Thor grumbles, but Loki’s barely listening.
If he avoids the land of Jotunheim, the journey will be far less perilous…
“Do you think Frigga is wearing her feather cloak today?” Loki asks absentmindedly.
“No, too warm,” says Thor. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason,” Loki says. He suddenly realizes he still has Idunn’s apple in his hands. He takes a bite.
x x x x
To Amy’s surprise, Thor backs away from Bohdi. Suddenly she’s aware she’s holding an arm that has all the pliability of an oak tree. She drops her hands.
Straightening, Thor looks down at Bohdi. Bohdi is tall—but next to Thor, he looks small and positively scrawny. Still, Bohdi grins mischievously. The glazed look Bohdi had when he was watching whatever he saw in the column is gone. Normally, his eyes have a slightly orange cast, but in Nornheim’s pale pink light, they look nearly red, and at the moment, they’re glinting.
Thor huffs. “Of course, you think I’m an idiot.” He smiles bitterly. “Even if Loki did borrow Frigga’s cloak without asking…”
Bohdi snorts and Amy blinks. A memory of Loki defying Odin’s orders, illusioning the guise of a falcon and going to his wife and child to say goodbye, fills her mind.
Thor’s voice continues to rumble. “Why would Loki fly of all places to Jotunheim? It is not a place one goes to for a joy flight.”
Amy winces, remembering the sharp bite of ice on Loki’s skin as he flew over plains of snow covered mountains, and pine forests punctuated by a few primitive forts and castles. He’d found the giant, King Geirod, not by spying on kings—as he knew the ravens and Heimdall undoubtedly did. He’d learned about Geirod’s plans by spying on Geirod’s daughters. Loki, sitting on the gates of Geirod’s castle, still wearing the illusion of a falcon, had overheard the girls describe how they would torture Thor after their father’s plans were fulfilled. Unfortunately, Geirod’s daughters had a bit of magical training; they’d seen through his illusion and called the guards—just as Frigga’s magical feather coat ran out of magic. Loki had been captured and dragged into a dungeon that was cold, wet, and filled with rats. They’d shackled his wrists and ankles and…
Amy’s eyes go wide, and her stomach falls. She gasps for air and wills her legs to remain steady, forcing the images from her mind. Amy turns to Thor. His nostrils are slightly flared, his face is flushed with anger. Even as she sees his barely restrained irritation, she sees another Thor in another time…
When Thor had broken into Geirod’s dungeon, Loki had been in too much pain to even realize who it was. As his shackles had fallen away and he’d been lifted to a sitting position, he’d thought he was due for another torture session. He’d been too weak to fight. When a flask was pressed to his lips and he heard Thor’s voice say, “Drink,” he’d opened his eyes. Thor’s face was framed above him by flickering torchlight, his eyes very soft.
Loki thought he was hallucinating, but he managed to whisper, “I hope you brought Mjolnir…to smash us…out of here…”
Thor just chuckled as he pushed the flask more firmly to Loki’s lips. “No, I left it at home. Geirod wouldn’t allow me to come negotiate for your release if I brought my hammer.”
Loki almost spit out the water. “You idiot! It’s a trap.”
Thor snorted. “But I saved the son of an enchantress on the way here, and she gave me the most marvelous staff…”
Amy swallows. The magical staff had been strong enough to crush rock. Thor had destroyed Geirod’s castle and Geirod himself. All that was left of the king’s forces had scattered.
Suddenly feeling literally and figuratively small, Amy says to Thor, “You marched into Jotunheim knowing it was a trap, didn’t you?” Saving the enchantress’s son had been a happy accident.
Dropping his eyes, Thor shrugs.
Voice hushed, she says, “Did Odin and Baldur know you were going to do that?”
Wincing, Thor puts one of his meaty hands behind his head and scratches the back of his neck. “They were concerned that if I was captured, it would enrage public sentiment and cause a war. Which was Geirod’s aim to begin with so…”
“You went without their permission,” she whispers.
Shrugging again, Thor sighs. “I missed Loki. I always miss him when he’s gone.” Lifting his great head, Thor meets her eyes. “My greatest adventures always came about because of Loki…” He smiles a little ruefully. “I honor and strive for peace, but I have found the most clarity and the truest tests of character come with chaos.”
Amy feels her breath catch…and her heart sink. She thought that this trip would be about battling Odin, and his schemes to use Loki. But really, the true battle will be convincing Thor that Asgard might not be the best place for his best friend.
She bites her lip. She has to let Thor knows she cares, too. Win him over to her way of thinking with subtlety, tact, and—
“So is it true you and Loki dressed up as girls?” Bohdi says.
Amy’s eyes snap to Bohdi. Idly thumbing the wheel of his lighter, he’s giving Thor a mischievous smirk that is so familiar that Amy’s stomach twists.
“Why, you little…” Thor strides toward Bohdi, lifting his hammer. Amy gasps, but then Thor drops Mjolnir to his side with a growl, and pokes Bohdi’s chest with a finger. “If I hadn’t given you my oath…”
The poke doesn’t quite knock Bohdi over, but he just laughs. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Bohdi looks positively delighted…and slightly devilish. Amy’s heart rate speeds up.
Thor stammers. “No! It…No, that story is…was…just silly gossip!”
Bohdi’s smile drops and his eyes cross. A ferocious sneeze wracks through his body…right onto Thor who barely throws up an arm in time.
“Ugh!” says Thor. “Control yourself, human!”
Bending over and turning his head, Bohdi stammers. “I’m…” he sneezes again. “Sorry…I…”
Staggering away, he sneezes twice more, and then proceeds to sniffle piteously.
Amy sighs and shakes her head. Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a packet of tissues. As she does, Thor announces, “We will rest here. The adze swarm at night, but if we are at sufficient altitude by dusk, we’ll avoid them completely. Try to sleep—I will take first watch.” With that, he stalks off toward a bluff a few paces off.
Walking over to Bohdi, she offers h
im a tissue. Taking it, he sniffles. “Thanks…stupid allergies.”
Amy tilts her head. Allergies typically only manifest themselves on second exposure to the allergen, but Mr. Squeakers hasn’t come out of her pocket, and this is an alien world so—
“What’s an adze?” Bohdi sniffs. His eyes are tearing, and his nose looks a little swollen. Amy swallows. He’s just Bohdi. And if he reminded her of anyone else a few moments ago…well, that’s to be expected. She’s trying to find the next incarnation of her…well, of Loki…and she’s carrying his memories, and once carried his child. If she sees “ghosts” of Loki occasionally, it’s probably a normal thing.
Shaking herself from her uncomfortable musings, Amy says, “They’re sort of hominid things with dragonfly wings and a taste for human flesh.”
Amy looks toward the chariot. She suddenly has the desire to wrap herself up in her down coat. “We should sleep.”
“How am I supposed to sleep when you tell me about flesh-eating dragonfly people?” Bohdi says. Amy blinks at him. One of Bohdi’s eyebrows is up, one eye is wide, one eye is narrowed, and his lip is curled in an expression somewhere between horror and disgust. The overall look is so comical, she actually laughs.
He grins brightly. Leaning in close, Bohdi whispers conspiratorially, “So Thor—he totally dressed up as a chick, didn’t he?’
She’s ridiculously grateful for the distraction. Checking to make sure that Thor is out of earshot, she whispers, “Yeah, this is what I heard…”
As she tells the tale, Bohdi interjects with amusing little quips that keep her from thinking…too much. She still has reservations about The Thong incident, but maybe Steve is right; Bohdi is all right.
Chapter 6
Steve is going to kill Bohdi.
Steve rubs one hand over his head as he holds a phone to his ear. He knows why Amy would go to Nornheim, but why would Bohdi do this to him?
The voice of Steve’s father, Henry, comes from the other end of the line. “Any news on Bohdi and Bea’s girl?”
