Black Ice

by Susan Krinard

  Dainn’s laugh was no more than a hoarse bark. “You do nothing out of kindness, Laufeyson,” he said.

  His words stung, though they should have meant nothing to Loki at all. “One might say I do nothing out of cruelty, either, but I can be very cruel.” He resumed his seat and snapped his fingers again. Scarlet hurried away and returned with the tray she had offered Loki earlier.

  “Magnier Grande Champagne Cognac, 1893,” Loki said, as Scarlet poured with her usual expertise. He picked up one of the glasses and sipped, closing his eyes as the smooth liquor spilled into his mouth. “I strongly advise you to try it.”

  Dainn only stared at him, his hatred beating against Loki like a dozen Jotunn clubs. “You drink too much,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “So you are concerned for my welfare as well. As I am with yours.” Loki set the half-empty glass on the side table and settled back into the cushions. “It’s not only the magic that’s gone, is it?”

  The elf went very still, but there was no surprise in his expression.

  “The beast is gone, too,” Loki continued, leaning closer to Dainn. “You lost them both somewhere on the steppes. How did it happen? Did Freya have something to do with it?” He smiled. “Of course I recognized the Lady when she arrived in San Francisco, in spite of her inadequate disguise. Since she came through the portal, I presume she also entered Midgard with her Alfar from the other side as well. I would have liked to have seen how she managed it, given the distance from this fair city.”

  “Even you are not omniscient, Scar-lip.”

  Loki tutted. “I have never cared for that appellation.” He waved his hand. “No matter.. We will speak of these matters later. You need rest and time to recover.”

  “Danny opened both bridges and portal,” Dainn said abruptly.

  If Dainn had expected that to come as a surprise to Loki, he was to be sorely disappointed. “I was there when the portal appeared,” he said, “as you may have cause to remember. And it had occurred to me that Danny might have had some influence on my ability to open a bridge on this side without the usual preparation.” Loki picked up his glass again. “But you said ‘bridges.’ Do you believe that Danny also assisted Freya and the Alfar, his parent’s enemies? Or did you urge him to do it?”

  ”I did not,” Dainn said, his voice still utterly stripped of emotion.

  “Curious,” Loki said, leaning back to display his unconcern. “We will have to look into the matter. We should certainly not like to see him doing that again. But in his defense, Danny is still unaware of what he does much of the time.”

  “But he created the portal to escape from you.”

  “Or to retrieve Sleipnir, in whom he had expressed considerable interest. Or perhaps, most of all, to save you.”

  “He believed I could help him.”

  “And you did. You wanted to protect him from me, from all danger. Why, my Dainn? Why are you so devoted to a child you have met only three times, and he to you? Why does Mist feel bound to follow your lead in ‘protecting’ my son?”

  Dainn’s legs tensed, and he began to rise. He never made it to his feet. Nicholas stepped in to ease him down before he could fall.

  “Go,” Loki said to the mortals. “Both of you.”

  Scarlet and Nicholas hurried out. Dainn bowed his head, his eyes tightly closed.

  “Mist bears many heavy burdens,” Loki said, “but Danny, like you, is no longer one of them. Our Valkyrie will have enough to deal with, considering her mother’s plans for her. Which, once again, you failed to warn her about. Just as you failed to do more than temporarily separate them after our little contretemps at my former apartment.

  “She is too strong for Freya now,” Dainn whispered. “She cast the Lady out during the battle.”

  “Is that what you observed,” Loki said, “or are you merely guessing because Mist is still with us?” Loki shrugged. “Perhaps Mist has the means to resist, but that is no longer your concern. You can never return to her again. You have nothing to give her—no magic, not even the dubious advantage of an uncontrollable beast to fight her enemies. Once Freya turns her against you, she’ll have wished you dead a hundred times over.”

  Dainn was on him in an instant, but Loki was ready. He pressed his left palm on Dainn’s chest, froze the top layer of his skin—temporarily paralyzing the elf—and pushed him to the floor. Dainn lay still as Loki rose to stand over him. Loki reached down, offering his hand.

  Shaking off his paralysis, Dainn rolled to the side and pushed himself to his knees. His face was gray. “Would you let me go if I chose to leave now?”

  “But would you?” Loki crouched beside him. “In all our time together, I have only once seen you so helpless. I could do anything to you now, and you would not be able to prevent it.”

  Dainn looked into Loki’s eyes. “Then do what you will,” he said.

  “I want you willing, my Dainn.” He ran his finger down the elf’s cheek. “Your compassion is your weakness, skatten min. You will not leave the boy with me. And I will never keep him from you.” Loki dropped his hand. “You have already changed him. Perhaps you can help him understand what he is, and then he can choose whether or not to do my will.”

  “You would never give him the choice.” Dainn almost smiled. “Even though you forced him to send manifestations against us, you can’t control him. Do you believe I can keep him here, or would if I could see him safe elsewhere?”

  “But he will be quite safe with you,” Loki said, getting to his feet. “Your instincts have been correct, my Dainn.”

  “The instincts that tell me that your son will never be like you?”

  “My son?” Loki stroked Dainn’s hair as if the elf were a favorite pet. “Not mine. Ours.”

  30

  Loki sighed with real regret as Dainn’s expression altered from one of hatred to disbelief and horror. It was not the reaction he would have wished for, but it was what he’d expected.

  “Perhaps now you’d like that drink,” he said, strolling back to the end table.

  Dainn rose awkwardly, listed to one side, and found support against the wall. “It isn’t possible,” he whispered.

  “How is it impossible?” Loki asked, pouring two glasses of Cognac. “We were together a more than sufficient time.”

  “I don’t believe you.” “But you do, because it all makes sense now, doesn’t it? Your obvious feelings for him, and his for you.” He pressed the screen on the wall next to the bedroom door, engaging the intercom. “Nicholas,” he said. “Call Miss Jones. She is to bring the boy.”

  As usual, Nicholas was laudably quick to obey. Five minutes later, during which time Dainn remained absolutely still, Miss Jones walked into the room, her fingers clutched tightly around Danny’s hand. The boy seemed unaware of the others in the room.

  “Miss Jones,” Loki said. “Please let Dainn see the child.”

  The nurse spoke softly to the boy and led him closer to Dainn. The elf continued to stare out the window.

  “Look at him,” Loki said. “His hair is mine, to be sure. But his face, I think, is almost entirely yours. And his eyes…” He nodded to Miss Jones, who lifted Danny up in her arms. “Do you notice how dark they are? Elven-dark, the color of a twilit sky.”

  “This is some illusion,” Dainn said, briefly glancing at Danny before returning his attention to the cityscape outside. “A trick, typical of your—”

  “Papa?”

  Dainn started and looked down again. Danny’s gaze was fixed with perfect awareness on his father’s face.

  “Oh, my God,” Miss Jones whispered.

  Slipping his hand from the nurse’s, Danny held it out to Dainn.

  “Papa,” he said again. Slowly Dainn sank to his knees.

  “Danny?” he said.

  Loki smiled. “I thought he ought to have a name similar to his father’s,” he said. “Of course he will carry my name, Lokason, as I carry my mother’s, but you have some claim on him. If you choose
to accept it.”

  “You have coached him,” Dainn said hoarsely. “You have lied to him.”

  “Look inside yourself,” Loki said. “Tell me he is not your flesh and blood.”

  Watching intently, Loki recognized the precise moment when Dainn believed. “When?” he asked.

  “Do you remember how you hesitated when you almost killed me just before the Last Battle?” Loki smiled sadly. “I can see you do. He was already growing in my belly. You sensed it even then, and you could not harm our child.”

  Dainn was pale enough, but what was left of the color in his face seemed to drain away all at once.

  Slowly he closed his arms around the boy, and Danny buried his face against the elf’s shoulder.

  Dainn looked up at Loki with that fierce hatred he no longer had the ability to back up with anything but words.

  “I will not let you keep this child,” he said.

  “Already the devoted father,” Loki said, swallowing his jealousy. “Though I think I posited that you won’t leave him alone with me, and you have no means of taking him away.”

  With a very unelvish grunt of sheer misery, Dainn pulled Danny closer, his hand cradling the back of Danny’s head as if he could literally pull the boy into himself. “Why?” he asked. “Why tell me now, and not when you brought him to me at the loft?”

  “I wanted this revelation to come at a time when your only choice would be to stay with me. You have no other options, my Dainn.”

  Dainn buried his face in Danny’s hair. Loki saw the surrender in the lines of his lithe body and in the angle of his head, heard it in the shortness of his breath and the pounding of his heart.

  The elf—Loki’s elf—knew he was trapped.

  “You have other children to serve you,” he said, his desperation almost tugging at Loki’s heart. “Fenrisulfr and Hel and the real Jormungandr—”

  “None of them have half the ability this child does. After so many centuries, I have finally begun to recognize his full potential. The potential you and I have bequeathed him, and something greater.” He inclined his head. “Yes, even I am compelled to admit it.”

  Dainn jerked up his head. “I will not let you use him as a tool to summon monsters,” he said, his voice shaking.

  “So you refuse to help me?” Loki glanced at the side table and regarded his nearly empty glass with regret. “It would be a great pity if our son were to suffer permanent damage because of my clumsy efforts to gain his cooperation.”

  “You are the basest creature that ever sprang from Ymir’s armpits.”

  “Oh, my tender feelings,” Loki said, pressing his hand over his heart. “I know you too well, Dainn. I said you might have some influence with me where our son is concerned. I will still have my victory, but the manner in which I make use of Danny’s talents is ‘up for grabs,’ as they say. Par exemple, there is no reason he cannot help me obtain the other Treasures by reasonably peaceful means. But again, that is up to you.” He waved his hand. “Miss Jones.”

  The nurse approached Danny and held out her arms. Dainn let the boy go, despair on his face. Danny turned to his nurse, gazed at her with a frown, and then looked at Loki. He didn’t speak; the very air began to tremble, and something huge and shadowy appeared between them. It had the shape of Dainn’s beast, but ghostly, as if only half of it existed in this world.

  “Stop, Danny,” Loki said. “Stop at once.”

  The shape wavered and then became solid again. It opened its mouth to expose rows of razor teeth.

  “Danny,” Dainn said quietly.

  The boy stopped, turning to look over his shoulder at Dainn. The phantom beast vanished.

  “He took that from your mind,” Loki said, trembling with anger and shock. “Control your thoughts, my Dainn, or we shall quarrel. And I generally win my quarrels.”

  But Dainn’s attention had turned back to Danny. “It’s all right,” he said, somehow managing a smile that was halfway convincing. “Go with Miss Jones.”

  Danny cast another long, all-too-aware look at Loki, took his nurse’s hand, and walked out of the room. Loki exhaled and sank back onto the couch. He knew Dainn had seen him at a disadvantage, and he was furious.

  But he still held all the cards. Every one that mattered.

  “There is one more question I did want to pursue before you go to your rest,” he said. “A rather important one. Did Freya see Danny?”

  Loki could see that Dainn was carefully weighing his answer, afraid he might lose some illusory advantage. But instinct saved him.

  “She saw both of us,” he said, his voice breaking oddly. “She knows who he is. She would have killed him.” “Yes. And thus you can shed any remaining loyalty you might believe you owe to the Lady. And to Mist, should she choose to turn against—“

  “Mist defended him,” Dainn said, though he nearly choked on the words.

  “Ah. A pity she isn’t on our side, then. It would be very awkward for you if you should ever have to choose between her life and our son’s.” Loki rose, standing toe to toe with Dainn, and curled his hand around the nape of Dainn’s neck under the midnight fall of hair.

  “You will have a very comfortable life here, I assure you,” he said. “I will not expect you to encourage Danny to work any direct harm on those for whom you have developed affection. But there are other things I will expect.”

  He ground his mouth against Dainn’s. Dainn jerked back and dragged the back of his hand across his lips. Loki raised his hand, preparing to strike, and dropped it again.

  “Not an auspicious beginning to our new domestic life together,” he said. “I shall give you one more chance to walk away. But you will never see our son again.”

  Dainn stared into Loki’s eyes. “If I stay, you will let me see Mist one last time.”

  “Why?” Loki said mockingly. “Perhaps so that you can give her a belated warning about Freya’s intentions—a warning she is unlikely to believe once she learns you’ve come to me? Or, like any proper star-crossed lover, will you simply confess your deep and abiding devotion to Freya’s daughter, in spite of every barrier that stands between you?” He shook his head pityingly. “Do you think anything will change?”

  “I will stay only on that condition.”

  “I know you only bluff, my Dainn, but I will permit it. On my condition that you tell her nothing of what has passed between us or anything else you think you know of my plans.”

  “I agree.”

  “And I accept. But the next time I choose to bestow my affections on you, I expect you to be a little more cooperative.”

  Dainn laughed. It was not a sound of defiance; he had accepted his defeat. Still, Loki knew whatever he did to the elf, he would never break him.

  But he would certainly try.

  It took nearly six hours to get all the wounded back to the factory and arrange proper bedding for the new mortal arrivals. Freya set a kind of anti-glamour ward around the entire region of the loft, repelling trespassers or the those who might show the slightest interest in what went on behind it. Though in the past Mist had done a fairly decent job of deflecting the attention of the mortals who lived near the loft and encouraging them to avoid the area of Twentieth and Illinois, she was reluctantly glad to have more powerful magic at work.

  Even though she couldn’t make herself trust her mother farther than she could toss Thor’s Hammer. Which, of course, they had yet to locate.

  While Eir, still very weak, did her best to work with the wounded—Gabi beside her, observing her techniques—Rota stayed with the new recruits and Bryn resumed regular patrols with the uninjured Einherjar. Mist dealt with the Alfar, who were understandably disoriented, standoffish, and insistent upon dealing with their own dead and making their separate camp on one of the abandoned factory parking lots. They were stoic in the wake of their sacrifices, and Mist found that she couldn’t look at a single elvish face without thinking of Dainn.

  It was worst with Lord Konur, the Alfr who had une
xpectedly offered her support after Harald’s return with the news of Dainn’s disappearance, He looked nothing like Dainn, and was no more related to him than any of the Alfar, but Mist was drawn to him for reasons she couldn’t explain. And in spite of his elvish pride, he was surprisingly kind, respectfully and formally acknowledging Freya’s daughter as if she were his undoubted superior.

  Mist didn’t believe it for a moment, and the Alfar would obey Freya in any case. But it was a relief to know she’d have their leader on her side.

  Before she had a chance to visit the new recruits, who had suffered higher losses than any of the other fighters, she found Koji Tashiro’s Prius parked on the curb outside the loft.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Tashiro said, concern in his voice as she met him near the door. “I’ve had people out looking just as you asked, but—”

  “Do you have any idea where he’s gone?” Mist asked, planting herself between him and the loft.

  “I personally went to Benicia to see if he’d learned about his aunt’s house and had gone there. There was no trace of him.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from hers almost as if he was hiding something.

  As Dainn had so often done, she thought bitterly.

  But Tashiro wasn’t Dainn, and he had no reason to lie.

  “We won’t stop the search,” Tashiro continued, meeting her eyes again, “and I’ll expand beyond the city if we don’t locate him the next few days.”

  If Ryan should be found, Mist thought, going over the same thought for the umpteenth time since the kid had disappeared. He’d never have left Gabi if he hadn’t had a powerful reason to do so. Without the constant pressure of exposure to magic and the looming threat to Midgard, he might revert to a “normal” teenager again.

  Except he’d never been a normal teenager. The visions had always been with him.

  At least he doesn’t know that Dainn—

  “I really am sorry,” Tashiro said, cutting into her thoughts. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  “I’ll think about it.”