One of the horses lifted its head. Loki took another step. A bitter wind caught him across the face, and intense pain bit into his wrist. He snatched it back, his feet once again firmly planted on the floor of Danny’s room.
And none too soon. The moment he stepped away from the wall, the portal began to contract. It shrank with considerable speed until the view of the other side vanished and the circle of light was a mere pinprick.
Danny walked across the bed, his body perfectly balanced, and touched the wall. The pinprick closed, and nothing remained but paint and plaster.
The boy turned to Loki and smiled, the sweet and innocent smile that concealed so much power.
“My brother,” he said.
Sleipnir, Loki thought. Sleipnir was somewhere on that plain, almost within reach.
“Hurry,” Vali whispered, opening the side door with a furtive glance toward the street. None of the Valkyrie or Einherjar, watching Asbrew from the front entrance, had seen Dainn slip behind the building and into the side alley, wreathed in falling snow and a touch of cautious elven magic.
“Come on,” Vali said, grabbing Dainn’s arm as he stepped into the short corridor leading to the back office. “Vidarr’s still gone. We have time—” He stared from Dainn’s hand to the burns on his torso and hastily released him.
“Let me see Anna and the bird,” Dainn said. “I have no reason to trust you, and if you’ve set a trap for me, I will act accordingly.”
“I know. She’s right in here.”
He opened the door at the end of the corridor. Anna was sitting at Vidarr’s scarred desk, half hidden behind the computer and a high stack of paper trays. She looked up, her eyes bleary with exhaustion. Several bruises marred her delicate skin.
“Dainn?” she said in a barely audible voice.
“Are you well?” Dainn asked, approaching the table.
She straightened. “They haven’t hurt me, but Orn—”
“Orn’s with Vidarr,” Vali said.
Dainn glanced at Vali, his heartbeat thudding in his throat. “You led me to believe Anna and Orn were together.”
“Would you have refused to come if you knew it was just Anna?”
“You lied.” Dainn circled behind Anna, never taking his eyes from Vali’s face.
“Orn,” Anna moaned, sinking her head into her hands.
Vali moved closer to the desk, spreading his hands. “Please believe me, Anna. I didn’t want this to happen.”
“We can retrieve the raven later,” Dainn said to Anna. “We must go.”
“Do you really think it matters what happens to me?” she whispered.
Dainn took Anna’s arm and gently pulled her to her feet. “We must go.”
“But you just got here!” a deep voice said behind them.
Vidarr strolled into the room, releasing the Rune-ward that had disguised his presence from Dainn’s senses. Dainn looked at Vali, and Odin’s younger son backed away as far away as he could without leaving the room.
“After all these centuries,” Vidarr said, “after all you’ve suffered, you still trust those who have already betrayed you.”
“I never trusted Vali,” Dainn said calmly, concealing his despair. “I knew he might betray me.”
“The betrayer betrayed.”
“Where is Orn?” Anna cried, trying to pull herself free of Dainn’s grip. “What have you done with him?”
“Oh, he’s safe,” Vidarr said. “We still have a lot to talk about.” He looked Dainn up and down. “You didn’t tell Mist you were coming, did you? Think you could spare her the danger of confronting me?”
Dainn pushed Anna behind him. “The Lady Mist doesn’t need my protection, least of all from you.”
“No. She understands how weak you are, like a dog on a chain.” Vidarr checked his watch. “Oh, yes, I know all about it, that thing you become.” He gaze lingered on Dainn’s burns. “My observers tell me that she left here not long ago. Why? Going to check up on you?”
“Your observers,” Dainn asked, “or Loki’s? How long have you been serving him?”
Vidarr’s forced good humor vanished. “I only took the bitch because I wanted a little chat with my father’s messenger. Now that I have what I—”
“What would Odin not freely give his own son?”
“Orn didn’t tell you anything!” Anna shouted at Vidarr. “You were there during the war, looking for the pendant because you believed you could control Orn if you had it. But it isn’t working for you, is it?”
For a moment Odin’s son looked genuinely surprised, touching his neck with his thick, half-Jotunn fingers. “The messenger should have to come to me in the first place!”
“Liar!” Anna shouted. “You were ready to kill to get that pendant, and the Treasures. You tortured—”
Abruptly she went limp, and Dainn barely caught her before she hit the floor. Vidarr shook his head.
“She’s insane. Why the raven chose her as his companion I’ll never understand.” He grinned. “She’s of no further use to me now, but I still intend to make you pay for her, Dainn. Oh, yes.”
“Why did you have Vali bring me here?” Dainn asked, standing between Anna and Odin’s son.
“Because maybe we can work out a deal. Maybe.”
“If you mean a deal with Loki, you are the one who is mad.”
“I don’t make deals for Loki,” Vidarr snarled, balling his substantial fists.
“Then what do you want?”
“Your surrender for the girl’s release.”
“But not to deliver me to Loki?”
“I’ve been thinking about killing you for a long time. Slowly. Because what my father did to you wasn’t enough.”
“You clearly have no idea what was done to me.”
Vidarr grunted. “I remember when you showed up at Valhalla, all mysterious and powerful. My father took to you right away. But you wouldn’t tell anyone where you came from. You put Odin under some kind of spell.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “I used to be his closest advisor—closer than Thor or Mimir. And then you just stepped in and pushed me out.”
“That was never my intention,” Dainn said, frozen in the grip of uncertain memory. “I did not know where I had come from. Not then, and not now.”
“But you were everything the noblest of elves should be,” Vidarr said. “Detached but generous, cool but compassionate, always believing you could be objective because you were never quite one of us, not even one of cursed Alfar. Believing you could stop a war prophecy had foretold centuries before you showed up.” He barked a laugh. “You thought you could reason with Loki. Instead, you let him seduce you. You robbed us all of our honor. You prevented the rebirth of the world, the new paradise.”
Everything Vidarr said was true. Everything. Dainn tried to concentrate on Anna’s safety, knowing that Vidarr might well attack when he was most vulnerable.
“And you,” he said, “so inappropriately named the Silent One, were to rule over that ‘paradise’ after Ragnarok. Is that what most infuriates you, Lord Vidarr? That you find yourself a bartender on a world of mortal inferiors, when you should be a king?”
“I will kill you, you cursed—”
“You will not. Whatever has driven you to work with Loki, you intend to give me to him. I only wonder what you receive in turn, hraumi.”
Vidarr’s face turned crimson at the insult. “Loki will never get the better of me, no matter what tricks he plays.”
Dainn smiled. “Do you truly believe you can ally with him and then betray him?”
Dainn was prepared when Vidarr swung at him, and leaned sideways just enough to avoid the blow while keeping a tight rein on the beast. Vidarr lost his balance and stumbled forward, righted himself quickly and turned again.
“Your behavior is not wise,” Dainn said softly.
“You won’t let it loose,” Vidarr rasped, “because the thing inside you is the only part of you that isn’t soft, and you piss yourself whenever
it gets too strong.”
“And what will make you piss yourself, Vidarr Odin’s-forgotten-son? Mist facing you in honorable battle?”
Vidarr charged. Dainn swept Anna up in his arms and danced aside. Vidarr spun with surprising grace and stood with his feet planted apart and his head sunk between his shoulders. Anna began to stir in Dainn’s arms, and he shifted his grip, prepared to push her behind him as soon as she could stand again.
“Look at you,” Vidarr sneered, circling Dainn slowly. “A nidingr like you has no honor. You disobeyed Mist by coming here, didn’t you? You knew you’d probably be betrayed, but you’ll give yourself up because you keep making mistakes that are slowly robbing her of everything you want for her.” He grinned. “I think you want to die, Lord Elf, because staying alive is too hard for a spear-pointer like you.”
Dainn held Vidarr’s stare. “Permit the girl to leave, and I won’t fight. But Loki must have no part of it.”
“Oh, he won’t,” Vidarr said, cracking his knuckles.
“Vidarr—” Vali began.
“Shut up,” Vidarr snapped. “You take the girl to the door, and when I’ve finished you can let her go.”
“No,” Dainn said, distantly aware that his wound had opened again and was dripping blood on the floor. “You will give your oath as Odin’s son and heir to release the young lady without hindrance by you, your brother, or any of your followers. We will go to a public place, where you will call to inform Mist of Anna’s location, and then I will surrender myself to you.”
“That’s quite a mouthful of conditions,” Vidarr said. “But I don’t have to agree to any of them. I have every advantage.”
“Except one,” Dainn said. “You assume I won’t release the beast because I fear it too much.” He lifted his burned wrists. “You are wrong.”
“I know you won’t risk the girl,” Vidarr said. “Let her leave with Vali, and I’ll give you a clean death.”
Suddenly Gungnir was in Vidarr’s hand, gleaming with purpose.
“No!” Anna cried, freeing herself from Dainn’s hold. She spun to face Vali. “You son of a—”
“Silence!” Vidarr roared. He aimed the Spear at Dainn. “Mist ain’t gonna win this one.”
“You sure about that?” Mist asked, striding into the room. She glanced at Vali dismissively and turned her gaze on Vidarr. “You didn’t really think I’d wait around for you to kill either one of them, did you?”
With a grunt of rage, Vidarr hurled Gungnir at her. Dainn tried to step into its path, but he found himself frozen. His paralysis only lasted for a few seconds, but when he could move again Mist was still there, unharmed, and Gungnir was stuck in the door exactly as it had been at the end of Mist’s first battle with Loki in Asbrew.
“You’ve made a mistake,” Mist said. “Vali warned me what you were up to. I already had plans in place to stop you. Dainn was just a distraction.”
Dainn stared at her, trying to make sense of her words. Was it really possible that she’d known he would break Gleipnir and come after Anna?
“I’ve been working magic centuries before you were born,” Vidarr said. “Do you really think you can match me?”
“I saw you surrender to Loki,” she said, tearing Gungnir from the door as if the wood were as flimsy as paper.
“I never—”
“You couldn’t even use your own father’s weapon,” she said, balancing the Spear in one hand. “I don’t understand how you ever thought you could get away with this.” She smiled. “Let Dainn and Anna go, give me the bird, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Vidarr laughed. “Give it your best shot, bitch.”
She nodded to Dainn. “Take Anna outside.”
Dainn’s vision blurred as if he had received a powerful blow to the head. Vali was gone. The air grew thick with magic.
“Anna,” he said. “Come.”
She blinked at him with a dazed expression, leaned on his arm, and let him lead her out of the room. The cold night air slapped him the face, and he shielded Anna from the bitter chill as best he could. A dozen Einherjar were visible beyond the mouth of the alley, their motorcycles sending clouds of condensation that thickened the air like heavy fog. Dainn considered leaving Anna with them and surrendering to his overwhelming desire to join Mist in her fight.
But she would win without him. She was Vidarr’s equal, half Jotunn and half divine. And more.
She must win.
“What’s going on?” Anna whispered. “Isn’t Mist—?”
“Wait,” he told her.
No more than a few minutes passed before Mist walked out of Asbrew, Gungnir dangling from one hand like a walking stick.
“Well,” she said, “that’s that.” She grinned at Dainn. “You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t figure out what you were up to?”
“Where’s Orn?” Anna asked, searching Mist’s face with a look of bewilderment.
“Apparently he’s escaped,” Mist said. “He took the pendant with him.”
“He wouldn’t leave without telling me!” Anna exclaimed.
“Oh, I’m sure you can lure him back,” Mist said. “He wouldn’t really want to see you hurt, after all.”
Dainn tried to focus. There was something wrong in Mist’s voice, in her manner. An overconfidence, a carelessness utterly unlike her.
And no anger at him for escaping, only a jovial camaraderie he would never have expected.
“Vidarr?” he asked her.
“Oh, he’ll be incapacitated for a while. No real harm done.” Mist gestured behind her, and Dainn followed her glance. Five of the Einherjar, including Bunny and Rick, stood at the mouth of the side alley. “Anna, go with Bunny. Dainn, I’d like to have a few words with you. In private.”
Now it comes, Dainn thought. But Mist’s smile didn’t fade once they were alone. She dragged him toward her by the nape of his neck and kissed him without inhibition, nearly biting into his lip.
He broke free, staggering backward. The Einherjar in the alley—no longer mortal, but shapeshifting Jotunar—had slipped by Dainn and were dragging Anna behind the building. Mist seemed to melt and reformed into someone equally beautiful and utterly familiar.
“Surprise,” Loki said. He slid his hand down Dainn’s arm, and Dainn was frozen again. “I should have known Vidarr wouldn’t play ball. Vali, at least, had the good sense to warn me of his brother’s intentions.”
“Then I was right,” Dainn said, barely able to move his lips. “This was a trap for me.”
“Hmmm.” Loki cocked his head. “I’ll give Vidarr this much. He did a good job of keeping you distracted.” He turned Dainn’s bloody hand palm-up. “Now, how did that happen? Let me help you.” He produced a strip of ice-woven fabric out of the air and wound it around Dainn’s palm.
“Where is Mist?” Dainn croaked. In spite of Loki’s spell, the beast was rising in his blood, unrestrained and ready to kill.
“I wouldn’t do that, my Dainn,” Loki said softly. “You might—”
“Papa,” a high voice said from the street.
Danny was standing barefoot on the slushy sidewalk, wearing only pajamas printed with prancing horses. The snow swirled about the boy like protective wings. He stared unblinkingly at Loki with a little pout of disapproval.
“I don’t like this,” he said very clearly.
“Danny!” Loki snapped, dragging Dainn toward the boy. “I told you—”
Danny turned around and ran into the street. The roar of a motorcycle engine drowned out Loki’s shout, and he and Dainn arrived at the sidewalk just as Mist rode into the alley, forcing them to stumble out of the way. There was a squeal of tires, and moments later Mist returned with Anna on the back of her bike and the shapeshifting Jotunar barreling after her.
The true Einherjar in the street rode to meet them as Mist raced past them. The bikers ran down two of the giants and gunned their engines, speeding after Mist.
She cast one final glance over her shoulder,
her gaze meeting Dainn’s. He could feel the unspoken message, a brief touch of minds, the sorrow of a final parting.
He had made his choice in breaking Gleipnir and ignoring Mist’s orders that he not go to Asbrew. She must realize now that he was too dangerous to remain with the allies, and that his life and freedom were not worth the cost she might have to pay.
And perhaps she hoped that this time—if he found his wits and courage—he might do Loki some damage from within.
“Ah,” Loki said, scowling at the mangled Jotunar whose blood was freezing even as it spilled onto the asphalt. “A pity about Anna, but I’ll find the raven. With your help.”
“That is unlikely,” Dainn said, his mouth as dry as Ymir’s bones.
“Oh, I think it’s very likely I’ll be able to persuade you,” Loki said. He looked beyond the dying Jotunar to the other giants, who had formed an outward-facing circle like Musk-oxen protecting their young. Loki pushed Dainn ahead of him as he went to join them.
“No!” Danny cried, squirming through the wall of giants. He ran straight to Dainn and took his hand.
Everything vanished.
25
Dainn doubled over, barely retaining the contents of his stomach. Danny clung to his hand, looking straight ahead and clearly not in the least disturbed by the sudden shift from one location to another.
The boy had done it. Loki’s son.
Lifting his head slowly, Dainn followed Danny’s gaze. Lefty O’Doul Bridge looked almost exactly as it had the last time he and Mist had examined it, save that all signs of Loki’s magic had vanished, to the eye and to every magical sense.
And the first light of dawn was tinting the sky. When he and Danny had “left” Asbrew, it had been closer to 2 a.m.
Where in slavering Fenrir’s name had they been for six hours?
Dainn knelt to meet the child’s eyes. “Why did you bring me here?” he asked.
“Family,” the boy said, gazing at the bridge with rapt attention.
“Where, Danny?” Dainn asked, touching the boy’s surprisingly warm cheek. “What family?”
Black Ice Page 29