by T. G. Ayer
I reached for the spear and as I grasped it I knew something was wrong. The weight felt off, and even the golden gleam seemed dull, not as alive as used to be Gungnir.
A fake spear?
I frowned. Why would Loki want a fake Gungnir? Had he been trying to replicate the spear? Was he trying to provide his Jotunn army with free rides to the Nine Realms? But, there wasn't time to try to figure out how the god's mind worked. I pushed the thought aside and paid closer attention to the papers strewn across the table. Many of the sheets had scribblings in the margins and rings circling specific locations. On closer inspection what I saw made my heart tighten with fear.
Plans.
City maps and building plans for various important places in the States as well as a few prominent buildings around the world. A lot of museums were on the list, the Louvre included.
What was Loki up to?
Was he planning to break into these buildings? Or destroy them? Considering no door or lock had ever held Loki out of a place he wished to enter, my gut leaned toward destruction. But with Loki, you just didn't know. He liked to go big. And he'd need access for his frost giants if he meant to make an entry with more than just his awesome self.
I grunted, annoyed we now needed to investigate another of Loki's plans in Midgard. Just a day ago, we'd thwarted Loki's scheme to bomb Midgard with a vicious airborne poison. Thankfully we'd managed to get the virus away from him in time.
But here he was, at it again. And from the looks of it Loki seemed to have his fingers in many pies, probably orchestrating a dozen different ways to kick Midgard in the gut. Was his plan to take over the human realm? Or did he have something more sinister in mind? I knew his ultimate desire was to relieve the All-Father of his power, what if he wanted to kill him too?
With a sigh, I gathered up all the paperwork, rolled them into a tight scroll and tied the lot to the now empty sheath which used to hold Odin's spear. My gut hardened. This fake spear was just a way for Loki to taunt me. I'd lost Gungnir. I couldn't imagine what Odin would say if he knew. But again I had to wonder if it really was as simple as that. If he just wanted to taunt me or if there was something more.
A glance around the room revealed nothing else of interest. Bare, un-painted walls, with wallpaper peeling everywhere to reveal the wood beneath. An armoire with its doors hanging open, no possibility of hidden drawers and hiding places.
Done in the room I headed back into the passage to find Nita walking toward me, shaking her head. "It is empty," she whispered so softly that I had to rely on lip-reading to make out what she said.
I gave a brief nod and pointed back at the kitchen. With the elf ancient close behind me I re-entered the kitchen. Just as we set foot onto the cracked linoleum, the kitchen door flew open. We remained still as a Jotunn ambled inside, holding a plastic bag of supplies.
More junk food. Pity I didn't have time to let them die from their terrible diet.
I pulled my glamor over me, a blanket of invisibly which had never failed me.
Until now.
The Jotunn looked up from his bag and saw me instantly. I struggled to understand why the glamor magic hadn't worked, but with the Jotunn now racing at me I didn't have time to think.
He was an inch away. I had to move or get pulverized. Pushing off my feet, I surged up into the air, grateful for what little space I had above my head that allowed me to fly over him. As I swept past I kicked him hard in the chest, then turned to hover to the other side of the room.
The frost giant let out a frustrated roar, then ran at me again, his own glamor no longer in play either. I saw ice-blue eyes, gray skin, and fingers that began to slowly grow icy blades.
He stopped in mid stride as roots sprouted suddenly, spiraling themselves around him, winding tightly around his arms. His momentum pulled Nita further into the room, firmly attached to the other end of the roots.
The more he struggled the more the roots grew around him, snaking down to loop around his ankles. We had him. My widening grin was cut off when the Jotunn let out a blood-curdling yell, alerting his two partners of our presence. I wanted to wipe the twisted smirk off his ugly mug.
I glanced at Nita. Her expression was urgent, worried. My attention had left the frost giant only for a second but in that time he'd twisted his hand and face, the rough-edged blades of ice that masqueraded as fingernails shifting until they were against the ropes of tree roots.
He began to saw, making easy work of the dried roots, paying no attention as the sharp edges of the blades bit into his chest and drew inky blue blood. Nita gasped as she saw he'd soon be free, then sent out a stream of what looked like ivy complete with gleaming black-tipped thorns.
The Jotunn struggled, looking like he was being swallowed by a blood-sucking purple plant, growled his anger as the black thorns bit into his skin. The strange purple ivy proved much harder to cut through. This Jotunn was toast.
But even if he was, the pounding of feet outside the house announced that at least one of the other two guards was on his way. I flew forward and grabbed the frost giant by his collar, carrying him to the basement door as Nita flicked her fingers and detached herself from the roots.
I shoved the struggling Jotunn through the remnants of the burnt down door and down the stairs, taking too much enjoyment from the sound of his body hitting each riser, and the howl of fury as he hit the hard-packed ground.
The silence that followed was satisfying.
CHAPTER FOUR
Landing beside Nita I asked, "Can you do something to ensure he can't leave, at least until we can handle the other two?" I felt a lilt of relief when she smiled. I left her to her magic and faced the kitchen, waiting only moments until the second frost giant flew through the door.
As he paused and glared at me, I drew my sword, enjoying the shiiing as the metal sang.
I lunged for him before he was able to move his sword. I thrust hard but he backpedaled fast and slammed against the door. Unable to withstand the weight of the Jotunn, the door gave way with a loud crunch. Light streamed inside the kitchen as I flew at the fallen frost giant. He was fast on his feet, already rising as I closed in on him.
He staggered back as I reached him, swinging his sword at the very last minute. I wasn't sure if he was smart enough to know that sun reflected on metallic surfaces, but luck weighed in on his side this time. The flash blinded me for a few critical moments and the Jotunn swung his blade.
It took a chunk of my hair off, his blade slicing too close to my neck for comfort. I paid little attention to the falling strands, or the burning heat of pain, just jumped out of the way, curving myself outward even as his blade swung close to my waist. Not the way I'd prefer to lose inches to my waistline.
I straightened, and my wings fluttered at my back, a little reminder to the frost giant that I could escape his reach at any time. But he didn't seem to be bothered by them. Instead he lunged again, his sharp, jagged blue-white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.
I rose higher into the air, escaping the reach of his sword by inches. As I toyed with him, his increasing fury told me that he was well aware of my tactics.
"Where is Loki?" I asked, hovering in the air ten feet above him. "Tell me and I'll be on my way. I don't have any quarrel with you." As I spoke I realized I spent way too much time with people who hadn't spent enough time in the modern worlds. I was beginning to sound like a girl out of time.
Then the giant's snort drew me from my thoughts. "Forget it, bitch. Even if I wanted to tell you anything, you think I'd do it when all I'd get is my tongue ripped out?" His lip lifted in a sneer, revealing blackened gums filled with dozens of icy teeth.
I laughed tonelessly. I wasn't going to get anything from him. "Maybe I like you better without you head?" I asked as I raised my sword and flew at the Jotunn, swiping hard at his neck. I felt the blade connect with frost giant muscle and bone.
When Nita came rushing out of the kitchen she found the Jotunn's head rolling to a stop at her fe
et. Her eyes went from the head, oozing blue blood at the open wound, to my face.
One eyebrow curved as she nodded, smiling. "Well done, Bryn."
I grinned. "Two down, one to go."
She nodded and as I rose into the air she made for the barn, flitting into and out of reality as she went, as if she used some long forgotten route of travel that circumvented normal movement from point A to point B.
I lowered myself to the ground beside the open barn door, out of sight of the Jotunn occupant. Nita appeared beside me, trailing glowing air as if a breeze drifted past blowing the colors of her skin and hair and clothes away.
Then she was solid again.
"Ready?" I asked, but from the pink in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, she was clearly enjoying the intrigue and danger as much as I did. Although, as experiences went, getting caught by Loki, being drained of all my blood and having my head bashed in were not experiences I'd like to repeat.
Ever.
I slipped inside the barn door, and was assailed by the odor of straw. As I slid forward, inching between bales of hay and forks with tines as long as my hand, I wondered how Loki had known we'd come right to him. Had my arrival been a happy coincidence?
Or did I have to question Derek's loyalty?
I filed away the thought as I spied the frost giant sitting on a bale, picking his great, rotting teeth with a lengthy piece of wire. Beside him on the bale, sat a familiar friend.
Gungnir.
And this time the mere sight of the spear confirmed it was real.
But the sight of the spear also bugged me. Why had Loki left it here, guarded by a lone Jotunn. Did he really find the spear so useless as to leave it unprotected? Why had he abandoned the farmhouse, and left all those plans where I could easily find them? Loki's capricious nature was endlessly unpredictable so this could be a total trap, or I could just be a pawn in the Tricksters game, every move I make at his will.
I paused to wait for a while, watching the Jotunn. Then I crept forward slowly. He didn't see me until I'd come so close I could easily have swung my sword and lopped his head off. Maybe my shadow had tipped him off. Maybe he had a better sense of smell than his friends, or maybe it was just his lucky day.
He sprang to his feet throwing himself into a lunge. But this time I was ready for the frost giant, swiping hard at his midsection and drawing blood in one smooth moved. I pushed into the air then swooped around to strike at his back, my blade carving a deep line of blood on his upper torso. His dark shirt glistened wetly and I gave a silent whoop.
He growled again and this time even the pigeons roosting in the eaves took flight, streaming their way out of the loft door above us in a flurry of feathers and bird dust.
I hovered above him, feathers flexing and pulsing in order to maintain my buoyancy. "Are you done?" All I got was another growl. And I thought I was being polite. "I'm sorry, I don't understand Growl. Anyway, we want to leave so let us pass and you can keep your head."
The Jotunn raised his eyebrows then gave the door a fleeting glance. Nita took that as an opportunity to laugh softly. "Yes, I'm afraid that does mean your friends over at the house have been relieved of their heads."
For a moment I thought I saw fear flicker in the frost giant's eyes. Usually they were of the type to kill now and ask questions later.
"Look, let us pass and we'll give you no trouble. Or, if you like, you can come to Asgard with us. We will offer you asylum." A glance in Nita's direction confirmed she was as surprised as I that I'd made such an offer. I didn't expect him to accept, though and so when I turned my gaze to the worried Jotunn I was shocked that he was actually considering my offer.
Then he shook his head. "No. Loki will find me if he thinks I've betrayed him. I'd rather die by your sword than submit to Loki's anger."
I nodded. "I bet he has creative methods to convey his disappointment. And what will happen if we leave you alive?"
He drew his sword. "I'm better off dead." Then he widened his stance, planted his feet and curved his fingers, beckoning me to meet him head on, showing a little bravado in his final moments.
I paused for a second to consider this Jotunn's fear of Loki. Fear great enough for him to fall on his sword. And I figured he'd do just that if we left him alive.
Shaking my head I said, "No. I think I'll take you with me. I'll send Loki a message that we have his 'assistant' and when he turns around and says we should just kill you then you can 'die'. He'll never find you. Not if he thinks you are dead."
The frost giant tilted his head and seemed to consider the proposition, but I was long past being patient. Summoning the Bifrost, I waited only until I saw the shimmering rainbow of the bridge of the gods.
Then, with a glance and a short nod at Nita, I swooped down and reached for the spear, reveling in the familiar feel of it as I weighed it in the center of my palm. Then I gave it a solid shake and smiled as it began to lengthen until it was five feet in length, with a deadly golden point. Then I grabbed the frost giant by the collar and lifted him with ease, carrying my burden straight into the shimmering portal. I felt Nita follow close on my heels.
Then, within seconds, I breathed a sigh of relief as my feet touch Asgard ground.
CHAPTER FIVE
As soon as the warmth of the Transport Room fire enveloped my body I felt the sting in my neck. Had the Jotunn managed to injure me when he'd taken a hank of my hair off? I'd paid little attention to the near miss with the Jotunn, passing the slight sting off as close but no cigar, and had forgotten it completely.
Until now.
My fingers shot to the side of my neck and I stifled a hiss, hoping my pain would go unnoticed.
But, I should have known that Nita would somehow sense my condition even though she was still behind me, unable to see my expression. She came around to my side as two einherjar, in charge of looking after the new arrivals to Asgard, drew closer to take my sword, cloak and bag. After handing them over, I gave the spear a shake, and allowed it to collapse until it was short enough to slip into the sheath on my back. Papers rustled as I moved, reminding me of the maps I'd taken from the cottage.
I pointed at the Jotunn who stood stock-still behind us, staring nervously around the room. Not too long ago, Fenrir has insisted we install a spell at the Bifrost that would divest any arriving person of their glamor.
As a precaution against the arrival of one of Loki's loyalists, the spell revealed the true nature of our asylum-seeker, all eight feet of white-haired, blue-skinned, ice-eyed frost-giantess.
The warrior's eyes went wide at the sight of the frost giant, something that wasn't a common spectacle in our Transfer room. "Get him to Fenrir. Tell him the Jotunn is seeking asylum and he has agreed to help us out with Loki." My voice was strong, and held the tone of a leader and I wondered when I'd become so comfortable with the role that I was barely conscious of it anymore.
The warrior nodded sharply then reached for the Jotunn's arm, grabbing him tightly and tugging him forward. I grunted, glaring at the redheaded warrior whose cheeks were pink from either the warmth of the room or the presence of the Jotunn.
"No need to be rough with him. He came of his own free will and he'll be no trouble."
The Jotunn stared at me, not caring to hide his surprise at my words but fortunately the guard wasn't paying attention, being far too embarrassed to look anywhere but the Jotunn's shoulder. "What is your name?" I asked the frost giant.
"Arn." His cheeks were now as red as the guards as he shuffled from foot to foot, like a kid needing the toilet.
I glanced at the einherjar. "See to it that Arn meets Fenrir immediately, and that he comes to no harm in the process."
Flushing again, the warrior gripped the pommel of his sword then nodded and waved a hand at the Jotunn, bidding him to follow. I watched their progress as the strange pair left the room, one slim, stocky, and human, the other tall and bulky and clearly not.
Beside me, Nita clicked her tongue and shook her h
ead sharply as the second warrior stepped to her and raised his hand to take her satchel. He raised his eyebrows at her movement but his expression change when he looked at me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, annoyed as he tried to look elsewhere. Nita placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You look like you've been frolicking in blood, Bryn. He is just concerned."
I frowned and then nodded before raising my hand to my neck, feeling it slick and warm with fresh blood.
"It's deep," I said, knowing I would likely be unlucky enough for the wound to be deadly.
Nita's eyes darkened. "It was more than just a cut Bryn. The incision was filled with poison. Loki's been giving his followers a drink filled with poison. The Jotunn are immune but the poison collects in the nails and in other excretions like tears and saliva."
My ears began to ring. "There is poison in the wound." My tone was dead as I said the words.
"I didn't say anything before. I didn't want to worry you. The poison is strengthened by any form of stress."
"Oh." I wasn't able to come up with more of a response.
Nita nodded but her expression showed she was concerned. "Come with me." She walked off out of the door and for a moment I was so surprised that I stayed where I was, unmoving.
But more than anything, I desperately needed to see Joshua. I wasn't a simpering female when it came to our relationship, but we had a strong connection, and I'd found lately, that I'd begun to count on seeing him every day. Maybe it was losing Sigrun that did it, but her loss had made me realize that sometimes, if you wait too long you may end up losing everything.
I shook the emotions off and jogged out the door. "Wait, I have a few things to do before I go anywhere. I have to tell my team I'm back." Good thinking Bryn, tell them after the damage is done.
"You won't be of much use if you are dead," she retorted and continued walking, leading me deeper into the palace of Asgard. The palace was built into the side of a mountain, surrounding us with the carved stone of the walls and floors that bore the slight uneven telltale that it was hand-hewn rock.
