“Not yet,” she said.
An awkward silence fell between them. Just as Anna was feeling compelled to fill it, Vali brightened.
“I heard you’re a programmer, too,” he said. “Maybe you’d like me to show you what I’m doing to find Mist’s Sisters. You know, the other Valkyrie.”
Anna weighed the offer. She didn’t by any means trust Vali, Mist’s ally or not—he looked far too much like a frost giant—but this might be a chance to learn something from a completely different perspective.
“That sounds very nice,” she said.
“Then I’ll come up and get you when I have something interesting to show you, okay?” He practically bounced up from the ground, light as a child. “I hope…” His face grew serious. “I hope we can be friends, Ms. Stangeland. We’re all going to be working together to save this world.”
“I hope so, too,” Anna said, standing away from the door.
With a strange little bow, Vali backed out of the room.
“What do you think, Orn?” she asked once he was gone. “You want me to trust Mist. Does that extend to him, too?”
Orn cocked his head. After all these years, she still couldn’t guess what he was thinking. But then again, she’d really never thought of him as “thinking” at all, not in the way apparently he was now.
She drifted out the door and to the window on the other side of the empty space that made up most of the second floor. She’d been told that two teenagers occupied the other room, but she hadn’t seen them yet. She was relieved that she hadn’t needed to add still more people to her list of new—and very strange—acquaintances.
Orn flew off Anna’s shoulder to land on the narrow sill, clinging like a gecko. The sky outside looked almost inviting with the early afternoon sunlight breaking through the clouds for what seemed like the first time in weeks. Anna’s feet were itching for a walk … a regular, completely innocent walk, without the threat of giants or red-haired godlings getting in her way.
I won’t be here forever, she reminded herself. “I guess you’ll have bigger fish to fry than hanging around with me,” she said to Orn wistfully. “You were never anyone’s pet, were you?”
He craned his neck around to look at her. “You stay with me,” he said in a perfectly clear if high-pitched voice.
Anna started. It wasn’t just that he’d said it—it was the way he’d said it. Like a command. She would stay with him, not the other way around.
“Orn,” she said quietly, “it’s time to drop the act.”
He croaked, shed his red and gray feathers, and studied her with ebony eyes. “You have purpose,” he said. “Stay.”
Purpose, Anna thought. When had she ever really had any purpose but going through the motions day after day, getting up and going to work and coming home and spending yet another quiet night with Orn and a glass of wine?
Was this what she’d been waiting for? A reason to live, to fight for something bigger than her very ordinary existence?
She met Orn’s gaze as if she were facing Odin himself.
“I’ll stay,” she said. “As long as you need me.”
“So what happens next?” Rick asked.
Mist glanced around the table at her council. Only Vali wasn’t present; he’d shown up soon after Mist had taken Anna to her room, and she’d filled him in on her conversation with the young woman before he returned to his work with the computers.
Vali had been astonished by the whole situation, but he hadn’t seemed angry. He was obviously puzzled by the fact that neither he nor his brother had known of the raven, but he’d agreed to keep the knowledge to himself and put off seeing Orn while Mist sorted things out with Anna.
Luckily, Vidarr still hadn’t made any attempt to claim Gungnir. A small favor from the Norns, but Mist was grateful. It seemed more important than ever to keep Odin’s Spear now that Orn had arrived.
“It all depends on Anna,” she said, belatedly remembering Rick’s question. She briefly and sketchily recounted the story of her and Bryn’s work with the Norwegian Resistance during World War II—most of which the Einherjar already knew—the raven’s likely connection to the pendant Mist had given to Rebekka, and what she knew of Anna’s family and Orn’s previous life with her and her grandmother.
She left out the parts about her relationship with Geir and the massacre of those she had sworn to protect.
“There are good reasons why we think this could be Odin’s messenger,” Bryn said. “Since we know now that Odin didn’t die at Ragnarok, he could have sent this bird to keep an eye on Midgard as Huginn and Muninn did in Asgard, when they flew out every day to gather information about the world and returned each night to share it with Odin.”
“It’s possible that Odin may have known at least part of what’s been going on here ever since he and the other Aesir were somehow flung into Ginnungagap, even before Freya made contact with Dainn,” Mist said. “We have no idea how much, but since Loki has—”
“Odin entrusted you with this pendant,” Tennessee said, sitting in a chair with his splinted leg stretched out before him. “You gave it away. How does that fit in? What’s the connection?”
“We don’t know what Odin intended,” Mist said, swallowing her guilt. “We don’t know why Orn waited so long to find me after the war, or how he found me. If Freya had anything to do with it, she isn’t around to tell us.”
She glanced at Dainn, instinctively looking for support. As usual, he stood leaning against the wall, listening and observing but speaking very rarely. He had been even quieter than usual since their last conversation, and she knew something was eating at him. Not just the difficulty of having to reveal a painful truth to a friend, but something very personal. Something he wouldn’t share with her.
“We are still lacking vital information,” he said, breaking his silence.
“And Orn isn’t saying much,” Mist said. “I don’t think we should push him, or Anna. But we do need to protect them.” She swept each face with her gaze. “I’ve already mentioned this before, but I can’t emphasize strongly enough that no one outside this room is to know what’s really going on.”
“Loki knows Anna’s here, right?” Bunny asked.
“He’ll probably assume we’ll keep her here. We can’t send her anywhere else until we have concrete answers. Loki ran, so he must not think his magical energy is up to another try for Anna, at least not right away.” She looked at Bryn. “We sent Vixen and Roadkill to check out Anna’s apartment. There’s some evidence that Jotunar have been searching it.”
“But we were able to pick up some of Anna’s belongings and make sure the landlady thinks she’s coming back,” Bryn said. “Her rent will be paid on time, as long as necessary.”
Mist nodded, as if the gesture itself meant that everything was under control. “Keep your people on their toes,” she said, “but no one is to engage with the enemy, or anyone who looks like an enemy, under any circumstance. The rule is return and report. Bryn will stay here to keep an eye on Anna while Dainn and I take care of some business. You all know to call me immediately if there’s any suspicious activity near the loft.”
“What about that giant you captured?” Rick asked.
“He’s dead,” Mist said flatly. “I doubt anything like that is going to happen again. One more thing … if any of you see Edvard, let me know.”
“Got it,” Bryn said, planting her hands on the tabletop as she stood. “It’ll be another long day, Einherjar. Let’s move.”
“Thanks,” Mist said as Bryn headed for the door. “I’ll try to make sure you’re not stuck doing this alone much longer.”
Bryn flashed an enigmatic smile. “I know. Look, there’s something I want you to see. Think you can spare a few minutes and come across the street?”
“Okay,” Mist said. “Just give me a second.”
Her Sister left. Mist glanced at Dainn, who returned her gaze with an entirely neutral one.
“I’m going to give Tash
iro another call,” she said, “try to pin him down, and then see what Bryn wants to show me.”
“She seems untroubled by Edvard’s continued absence,” Dainn said.
“I guess she knows him well enough not to be worried.” Mist frowned. “Something bothering you about that? I didn’t know you’d seen him except when Bryn brought the Einherjar to help me track the raven.”
Dainn shrugged. “Merely curiosity.”
Mist had good reason to doubt that kind of answer, but she let it pass. “I’ll meet you in the driveway in about an hour,” she said.
Once he was out of the room, she called Tashiro. He didn’t pick up. She left a message and went out into the cold, her breath frosting the air like a Jotunn’s spell.
It was snowing again, lightly, when she reached the factory. Inside the central open area, several of the Einherjar were clustered around a single motorcycle.
She recognized a few of the Einherjar, though she’d barely met them: Fatty, a small, thin man with a cherubic face; Headlights, tall and bespectacled; Harry Lime, a bald, heavyset man with striking green eyes; and Roadkill, unusually hairy and blessed with a very thick and very long black beard. Vixen was absent, as were Bryn and Rick, though Tennessee was leaning on a crutch against the nearest wall.
Bunny was just standing up, a polishing cloth in her hand. She stepped back to give Mist a clear view of the bike. “Do you know what this is?” she asked with a grin.
“It’s a Valkyrie,” Tennessee said, hopping to adjust his position. “Honda Interstate, 2001. One of the last off the line. Bryn did all the modifications and detailing, but she decided you should have it.”
Mist flushed. “I can’t—”
“Don’t argue,” Bunny said. “You know she won’t let you refuse. She’s out shopping for a new bike right now.”
Bunny was right, Mist thought. Bryn wouldn’t let her refuse. And it was a handsome machine, she had to admit, all chrome and purple and black. The modifications were subtle, which made it seem more practical than merely decorative.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Come and take a look.”
Almost as if she were approaching a dangerous wild animal, Mist circled the bike, examining the detail and discovering that it was still possible to take joy in pleasant surprises. Tonight she’d return the little bar hopper with a note and ten hundred-dollar bills in payment for the inconvenience she’d undoubtedly caused the owner.
“What you gonna call her?” Tennessee asked.
“Silfr,” Mist said without hesitation. “That was the name of my mount when I … when I and Bryn and my Sisters were still in Asgard working for Odin.”
“Hi-yo Silver,” Fatty said. He winced at the disgusted looks the others shot in his direction. “Well, what d’ya expect?”
Mist laughed, cheered by the unexpected generosity of people she hadn’t even known existed a few days ago. But then again, the real generosity lay in their willingness to give their lives to save Midgard.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank Bryn,” Bunny said. “You should go try it out.”
“I will,” Mist said. “In fact, I have a very specific trip in mind.”
13
Loki was in a rather good mood, all things considered.
He kicked at the nearly fleshless corpse, listening to the hollow thump with a degree of satisfaction. Most of the remaining captains of crime, including the newest additions, were cowering in their chairs or against the walls, stark terror in their eyes.
“Perhaps I have not made myself clear,” Loki said. “You are not only to accept my Jotunar, but follow their instructions exactly as I have presented them. This is not simply a matter of joining forces to increase profits. It is far greater than that … gentlemen.”
“But my lord Loki,” said Barker the outlaw biker, looking far less rebellious than he had several days ago, “we can give you what you want without them—” He shuddered. “Without the giants.”
“You cannot give me what I want,” Loki said. “And you will not get what you want without my help. I gave you a choice before, and I give you one last chance now.” He nudged at the corpse again, drawing all eyes to his boot. “Leave, if you wish. Remove yourself from our association, but understand that those who are not my friends or loyal servants are my enemies.”
Barker swallowed. A few who looked as if they might have spoken said nothing. Even the toughest, who still occasionally dared to give Loki lip and pretend to defy him, were not about to push him now.
Except one, the boy recently released from some prison in the southern part of the state—ostensibly Chavez’s new lieutenant—who showed no evidence of having been reformed by his experience behind bars. Or by what he had just witnessed when Nacho Chavez had challenged Loki one too many times.
“I get that your hombres have some kind of powers,” Ramon Garcia said from the back of the conference room, lifting his scarred, stubbled chin. “But it won’t be so good if you try to push us out. We still got the numbers.”
Stupidity and courage, Loki thought, so often went hand in hand. He was inclined to believe that this mortal’s chief characteristic was the former.
“And I have the magic,” Loki said. “But I would prefer not to ‘push you out.’ You have the operations already established, and the men to carry out our plans. You will simply have to trust me.”
“I don’t trust no one.”
Loki sighed. “You are new here, my young friend,” he said, “and so I will give you the benefit of the doubt this one time. I could easily see to it that you lose whatever status you have won during your brief stay in this city, and put you on your competitors’ ‘most wanted’ list. But since you obviously have talent enough to reach the top of Chavez’s chain of command so quickly, I will allow you to retain your turf. For the time being.”
Ramon looked as if he would very much have liked to spit. Loki would have enjoyed roasting him, as well. But the boy had sense enough to hold his tongue, though his dark eyes were flat with anger.
“Excellent,” Loki said, clapping his hands together. “You will each consult my Jotunar before any major operation or transaction. They will report your progress to me. Once I am certain you are competent enough to follow my advice, it may no longer be necessary to supervise you quite so closely.”
Dead silence. Loki smiled jovially and indicated that his minions could leave.
They did, filing out without any of the usual jostling for preeminence. As far as Loki was concerned, they were all the same … tools, to be discarded once his Jotunar had taken over the criminal factions in San Francisco. Those who didn’t resist their loss of power might be allowed to live, and of course Loki would still need flunkies to carry out the menial work.
Turning his back on the stragglers, Loki strode to his smaller private conference room where four of his Jotunar were waiting for his instructions. They snapped to attention as Loki entered the room.
“Our priority now,” he said, taking his seat at the head of the table, “is to confirm that the bird is, indeed, Odin’s messenger. I want every detail of the girl’s past, from her childhood to the present.”
“We’ve already searched her apartment,” Hymir said.
“And found nothing. Question her associates and neighbors, but don’t unduly harm them. I have no desire to attract the attention of the police … yet. You,” he said, pointing to Grer, “dispose of the body in the main conference room. The rest of you go, now.”
Hymir and the others bowed and turned to leave, moving with almost admirable haste for creatures of their size. They knew how badly they had failed their master. And what said master would do to them if they failed again.
Loki leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin, and pondered the events of the recent past. He had been right in believing that Danny’s sketch of a raven was significant. It hadn’t simply been taken from his parent’s mind.
So how had Danny had known?
That would be among the many questions he would ask the boy when he went downstairs. But an even more vital question remained unanswered: What did the raven’s appearance portend, and what message did it have for Mist?
Surely if Odin had previously been capable of directly intervening, he would have revealed himself far sooner. And his messenger—if messenger it truly was—had hidden itself away for many decades … or so it would appear.
If its sudden arrival, as Loki had speculated, was directly related to Freya’s unexplained absence, that turn of events was not the matter for mockery he had presented to Mist. It could mean that Freya had failed to contain the other Aesir, and Odin had discovered the scheme.
But Odin was not here yet, and the creature certainly seemed to lack any special power. There was still time to deal with the problem before things got out of hand. And now Loki would have help from an entirely new and very felicitous quarter.
Loki’s thoughts turned to Mist, and he smiled, savoring his new knowledge. In spite of the raven’s interest in her, the Valkyrie was evidently ignorant of its purpose, or its origins. That ignorance had provided Loki with very useful information, and once he had obtained a few of Orn’s feathers he’d had no qualms about letting Mist win the skirmish.
He had wondered how much Mist relied on her mother’s influence to wield her magic, but now he had his answer. What she’d done in the abandoned storefront had been impressive, and it had felt distinctly unique to her in a way he had not expected.
He wasn’t yet sure how to define it. Or properly counter it. If he hadn’t felt several earthquakes before the battle, he might have suspected that Mist had caused the last one.
But there would be a flaw in that magic, one he could exploit. Surely she had not simply stumbled across these powers by herself,—nor, considering her plans for Mist, would Freya have taught them to her. Dainn, however, might certainly have had some part in her magical development.
But Dainn still had many personal difficulties to distract him. Though Loki wasn’t certain how much Mist knew about the beast or its true, physical form, she had left the elf behind when she’d come after Anna.
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