The God of Mischief had been correct, after all.
“We’ll have to hold hands,” Loki advised. “If the connection is lost, if we break apart, whoever isn’t touching me will appear wherever he stands.” Thor and I both nodded in understanding. “Once I cast the illusion, don’t touch any person. We may be invisible to their eyes, but we will not be phantoms. You will not pass through them. They will meet a solid person and our cover will be blown, especially if they start firing at us.”
“Once we get inside, the small steam car we keep is in a sheltered stable connected to the house. They won’t be able to see us before we get inside,” I murmured, and that was the entire reason we had built it. A family of spies thought ahead.
“How do we get inside without them noticing the door opening?”
I grinned. “In exactly two minutes, the man from the butcher will deliver the week’s meat.”
“So late?”
“We don’t trust anyone really,” I shrugged. “This time, we knew we would be awake, and the butcher has finished all his other deliveries. He also wraps it in a way that we would know if it had been tampered with. We tip him heavily each time for the extra work.”
“Then let us get to work. He should be here quickly.” Loki took out a bottle and swirled it, the orange liquid inside shimmering in the low light. He uncorked it and blew inside, a tiny flame curling above the mixture before being absorbed. Then he tipped the smallest amount out into his hand and touched small wet dots to his forehead in three different places, then in a line down his nose and chin. I watched, fascinated as he did the same to first my face, his fingers almost hot against my skin, before he did the same to Thor. He tucked the bottle away and held out his hand. I happily took it and the hand Thor offered, serving as the connection between them.
As we linked hands, I watched as Loki faded before my eyes, the power slow as it engulfed him, then crawled up my arm to do the same, and then to Thor, until we were all invisible to human eyes. It would have been unnerving if I couldn’t feel their warm hands in my own, if I couldn’t hear their soft breathing. It was a handy trick to have, especially for a spy. How many times had I wished I’d been invisible on a mission?
We stepped from our hiding place and paused, waiting to see if anyone noticed us, but when they didn’t and I saw the butcher coming up the road, I urged us to move. We would miss our chance if we didn’t circumvent the spies casually standing on the sidewalk in the freezing cold blizzard and get to the door.
It turned out to be slightly difficult to run without making noise, without accidentally kicking a pebble on the ground, while also linked to Thor and Loki, but it was not impossible. We made it across the street in record time, just in time to see that the man pretending to read a newspaper on a bench outside the home was none other than Calvin. I tensed, tempted to reach for my knife, but Loki’s fingers squeezed in mine, warning me not to let go. I scrunched up my face and we moved up the stairs just as the butcher stepped up behind us. Holding my breath as we shoved ourselves against the stone railing, we tried our best to not touch the butcher as he pressed the doorbell, keeping ourselves pressed tightly. I hardly breathed for fear that he would hear or feel it, and we didn’t need the butcher screaming about phantoms or oddities.
When my mother opened the door, her eyes took in every person who stood around her house, cataloguing each spy, making her own notes on the matter, before she met the kind eyes of the butcher.
“I have your order, madam,” he answered with a happy smile and a tip of his hat.
“Of course, Ernest. As always, I appreciate the extra precautions.” She took the sack from him and handed him a bill, rather than the coin that was customary. Earnest beamed at her and turned away.
“Mother,” I whispered, and she froze at the door.
“What?” Ernest said, turning back toward my mother in confusion.
“Open the door wider,” I whispered so softly that there was no way anyone but her could hear it, but Earnest was still close.
“You want extra boar?” Ernest wrinkled his brow. “I cannot quite hear you, Lady Kingsford.”
“My apologies,” my mother said, a smile on her face as she opened the door wide. “Yes, next week, I would like an extra pound of boar. Might as well add a duck in there, as well. I find myself with the urge to prepare a feast.”
“Of course, madam. I’ll take care of it.” He tipped his hat and continued down the steps and away from the house while we slipped past my mother into the home. She waited two beats, long enough for someone to step inside, before she closed it and turned in the direction of our breaths.
“What sorcery is this?” she hissed. “Tillie?”
“Is it safe?” I asked Loki and when he said, “Yes”, I released his hand and snapped into appearance. My mother stumbled back as both Thor and I appeared, the connection broken. Shortly after, Loki did the same, wiping the marks from his face.
“The windows,” my mother whispered.
“They’ll only see you move through the house before settling in a chair in the tearoom,” Loki reassured her with a smile.
Her eyes glanced over him, over the man she had already seen, before they trailed over to Thor and took in his muscles. “And you are?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kingsford. My name is Thor.” He bowed his head, tendrils of his hair falling down with the movement, and I smiled at the eyebrow my mother raised in appreciation. The burly God would easily win her over.
“He’s the God of Thunder,” I added helpfully, and her eyes jerked to me. I pointed to Loki. “He’s the God of Magic.”
Mother glanced between me and the two men at my sides, seeing the seriousness on our faces, and of course, the easy smile on Loki’s lips didn’t help matters much. “Are you,” she began, taking a step closer to me. “Have you been drugged, Tillie?”
I snorted and shook my head. “It’s a long story, Mother. I mentioned that the world could end before, but I didn’t tell you why or how.” I grimaced. “You might want to sit down for this one.”
An hour later and we all sat around the various seats in the sitting room, a cup of tea for each of us. I had barely started when my mother had insisted on making the chamomile, saying if there was something this big going on, she was going to take every opportunity to drink tea that she could. I didn’t blame her. Wolves swallowing moons, dark elves, Ragnarök, it was a wonder she believed us at all, but she knew I wouldn’t lie, knew there was a reason why the Guild had treated me the way they had. My mother knew I would never be standing with Thor and Loki if I didn’t believe it.
“And the Raven Wing Guild?”
“Have labeled me rogue because I continued to warn them and because they think Loki and Thor are the threat rather than the elves.”
Mother let out a deep breath of air and shook her head. “You’d think a Guild of spies would at least entertain the thought that there were things not of this world, considering the things we see.”
I frowned. “I think much of the reason they didn’t was because the Director didn’t, and Calvin has no doubt been spinning lies.”
“I never liked that boy,” my mother murmured, shaking her head. “He’s the one out front, isn’t he?”
“He is.” Crossing my arms, I glanced sideways at Loki. “I would have gutted him if someone hadn’t stopped me.”
“Entirely the wrong time.” Loki grinned. “But I still support it.”
Mother took a sip of her tea and I did the same, letting the hot liquid warm me further. Even though Loki’s heat was a staple in warming me, nothing ever hit quite the way that a hot cuppa did. “That answers the most important questions, but I have another one.” When I raised my brow expectantly, she continued. “Why are the two of you,” she pointed to Thor and Loki, “constantly touching my daughter?”
Thor tensed and slowly slid his hand off my knee, but Loki only smiled. “We’re courting her,” he supplied helpfully.
“Both
of you?”
I grimaced, waiting for her to chide me for entertaining the thought of entering a courtship with two men, but she surprised me again.
“Finally,” she murmured and took another sip of tea.
My mouth fell open. “You’re not going to admonish me?”
“It has taken you twenty-five years to find a man who held your attention. It’s just like you to pick two Gods.” She shook her head. “Besides, I can’t really blame you.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me, and I laughed. “But in all seriousness,” she said, looking at Loki, “just because you are Gods doesn’t mean I won’t rip your spleen out with my bare hands if you get my daughter killed.”
Grinning, Loki glanced at me. “I see where you get it from.” He placed his hand over his heart and leaned forward towards my mother. “I swear on Asgard, I will protect Tillie with my life.”
“She doesn’t need protecting.” Mother raised her brow. “She needs someone to watch her back.”
“Of course, and that’s if she even allows me to.”
I rolled my eyes at his words but couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips.
“We have a problem,” I murmured, bringing the conversation back to more serious matters. “Thod can’t circumvent his connections fast enough to meet the Queen that way. And the Raven Wing Guild is no help—”
“So you have to sneak in and tell her yourself.” Mother nodded in understanding.
“Raven Wing thinks it’s all fake, but the stars falling, and this bloody winter are only the beginning.”
“Is there any relationship to Big Ben?” she asked.
“It stopped ticking at the exact time that Ragnarök began,” Thor answered. “We were in the square at the time.”
For a moment, Mother said nothing, studying us, taking in all the information. It was a lot, I knew, but if anyone would believe us, it would be the woman who raised me to be a tsunami, a tidal wave that gathered all its energy and then demolished all that stood in its path.
“I can help,” she murmured. “Get you close to the palace with the steam car, but after that, I’m afraid I’m not as stealthy as I once was. I will be no help otherwise.”
I stood and wrapped her in a hug, thankful that even with all the far-fetched details we had told her, she believed me, believed in me.
“We’re going to do our best to stop it,” I reassured her.
“I know you will, dear. I have full faith in you.”
She pressed her lips to my forehead and then stepped back, her eyes growing calculated. “Now, let’s devise a plan to get past the arseholes outside.”
And just like that, we were planning to kidnap the Queen of England.
SKADI
I tried my hardest not to react as I read the words on the page, for fear that Hugin and Munin would notice and take off to alert their master. I was not sure if Odin would order me to dismiss the nonsense I searched for, since Midgard was inconsequential to him, but I didn’t want to take the chance of having to disobey an order. Odin’s orders came with weight, and when disobeyed, they were so painful, they could kill.
I read the sentence again, burning it into my memory, making sure I remembered it exact as it was written.
Poetry and power pours from Odrorir, the depths of its reach unknown, and when it tips, all time will stop, all the world will settle, and poetry will heal the land.
Odrorir, I repeated to myself. I knew it for one of the cauldrons the dwarves made, but past that, I knew nothing else. I repeated the lines in my head, seeing the similarities to the single line that spoke of something to stop Ragnarök. Could it be this cauldron?
I closed the book with a thump and stood, stretching my arms as if I was simply tired and planned to retire, a gesture for the sake of the ravens roosting behind me.
. . . when it tips, all time will stop, all the world will settle. . .
A cauldron could be a cup, I surmised, and it was the only information I had found with promise. I had to tell Thor and Loki, and we would need to make a trip to Svartálfheim.
I turned and froze, Ulf and Tove growling low in their throats at the God that stood behind me, the God that was supposed to be wary of his surroundings. He was a clever man, could hardly ever be tricked, but somehow, he was being taken for a fool, and whoever was playing games, took me for one, too.
“Hodor,” I sighed, recognizing the sheen on his skin yet again. Whatever was causing the enchantment, whomever it was, was targeting me specifically with the one God I would hesitate to harm. There were plenty of options of Gods that could enchant Hod but only a handful that could get close enough for him to drop his guard around.
“I cannot let you leave, Skadi.”
“What are you talking about, Hod?” I placed my hands on the tops of my wolves, keeping them beside me. I wouldn’t order them to attack, not this God. We would have to escape without such tactics. “This can save the nine realms.”
“Nothing can save Midgard from their fate.”
He lunged so suddenly, I had little time to do little more than brace myself. He slammed into my middle, throwing me backwards, but I used his momentum to roll and throw him backwards over my head, before springing to my feet again. He was already running for me, prepared to fight.
For a blind God, he still moved incredibly fast.
I jerked to the side and pulled my dagger. I didn’t want to hurt him, not the one God I cared for, but with him attacking, there was no way I could attempt to breath my ice into his face again. “Hodor, stop!” He ran harder and I narrowly avoided his hands. “Stop! Please stop!”
His muscles twitched, as if he fought the enchantment, but it was too strong. He flicked a knife into his hand, and I could tell that he planned to use it, could tell that the enchantment was too strong for him.
“I’m sorry,” I cried, just as he charged me again, his blade prepared to slice into my stomach, but I slid mine into his instead. He stumbled one step, two, and looked down at where his blood welled, where my knife stuck him. The sheen shimmered and disappeared, and Hodor’s eyes met mine. Even though he couldn’t see, not truly, it felt as if he looked into my soul. Guilt clawed at my throat.
“Skadi?” he croaked, and then his knife clattered to the ground when he realized he was pointing it at me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, kissing his forehead. He would heal within a day’s time, but the pain was still there. “I have to go.”
“You found it,” he sighed, slumping to the ground. I blinked at tears in my eyes while I made sure he didn’t hit his head on the wooden floor. “Was I attacking you?”
“You weren’t in control of yourself.”
“I attacked you.” His face twisted with shame.
I took his hand. “Grind your teeth,” I said as a warning before I jerked the knife from his stomach. He grunted in pain, but I clamped my hand over the wound, for no other reason than habit. I was not always from Asgard. I did not always have the power to heal.
“Go!” He grunted. “Before you’re stopped. Go warn the others!”
“I can’t,” I shook my head. “I don’t think I can leave you like this.”
“I’ll be able to stand in an hour, and I’ll hide myself away in my hut as soon as I’m able.” His eyes flicked towards the ravens. “Go, now, Skadi. The nine realms are depending on you.”
A tear rolled down my cheek at the thought of leaving him defenseless. I thought of offering to leave Ulf but Hod would refuse. I knew he would. My lover reached up and wiped the tear away.
“Don’t cry for me, Winter Goddess. I’ll be fine.”
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, one that lingered, and he kissed me back, even through his pain, we seared ourselves into memory, just in case something else happened, just in case the world ended before we next saw each other.
“I love you,” I whispered, the words one I had been afraid to speak before. It was not because I feared loss; it was because I feared the emotion altogether. Love
was dangerous, but I loved this God, loved him for his shadows and darkness and kindness.
“And you have always held my heart,” he replied. “Now go!”
I kissed his forehead once more and stood, forcing myself to turn away from the man I had finally found, the one who finally loved me even with the ice in my veins, and began to run. In the back of the library, there was a door, and I headed for it. My wolves ran beside me, their white fur like beacons in the darkness.
When I threw open the door and began to climb the branches of Yggdrasil, I felt the certainty that laid heavily in my veins.
The nine realms would never be the same, even if we slowed Ragnarök, even if we stopped it.
The gears had already been turning and it was long-passed time for the thrones of Gods to crumble.
Chapter Twenty-Three
THOR
Lady Kingsford was a force to be reckoned with, even with her age, I thought as she gunned the steamcar and rammed through the wooden gates that had protected it from outside eyes and the weather, sending the spies who had been standing in the freezing snow scattering. I didn’t think they were very great spies. It was so cold, no one was braving the ice and the weather, and yet here were these random men standing outside after midnight, reading the newspaper.
“Do they not teach your comrades to fit in?” I asked Tillie, frowning at the man with an umbrella. I supposed it would come in handy for the snow, but it was so cold that ice hung from the edges of it. I caught just a glimpse of his red face before Lady Kingsford threw ice on him as she cranked the wheel to the left and sped away.
“They do,” Tillie grimaced. “But not all of those watching the house are meant to be in the field yet. I recognize a few from different departments who have not once worked outside of an office. There are even a few uncleared recruits. I’m not sure what is happening with the Guild if I were being honest.”
Gears of Mischief (The Valhalla Mechanism Book 1) Page 15
