by ST Bende
“Why didn’t Odin see through that?”
“Odin can be unfortunately shortsighted. Loki has behaved erratically before, and he took this as another isolated instance. Besides, Odin had control of the demons, or so he believed, and he was confident this could mark the end of the Ragnarok prophecy. Others merely saw it as a stopping block. And many of us have been keeping a close eye on Loki, the offspring, and the giant, ever since.”
“What happened to the kids?”
“Hel was cast to Helheim, and given dominion over its occupants. Protections were set so she could not leave the realm, but it would appear she has broken free. Jörmungandr was sent to the ocean of Midgard, where he grew so large he bit onto his tail. A rather fortunate curse of lockjaw has kept him there until now. And Fenrir…he was given a second chance. But he never changed his spots.”
The wolf, the snake, and the demon. Loki’s kids had haunted my dreams for years. They had killed me a hundred times while I slept. And now they were trying to destroy everyone and everything we loved.
“I have to get out of here. I have to know Gunnar and Inga are okay.”
“I have to know that too. They have been my best friends all my existence. And there is nothing I would not do for them. But there has to be another way. I am sorry, Kristia. I cannot let you go back there. Hel and her mother are force enough, but combined with the ikkedød…”
“I know. But they’re all alone. They only have Anders with them.”
“Then we shall call for reinforcements. It is too dangerous for us to be apart right now.” Ull eyed the closed laptop that sat on the dining room table along with our abandoned mugs of tea. “Except…”
“Except everyone’s fighting. There aren’t any reinforcements to call.” I shook my head. “Listen, we have two choices. Either you take the Bifrost and go help them yourself—”
“I am not leaving you alone,” Ull growled.
I continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “Or you let me go back there and see if they’ve gotten things under control. If things don’t look good in the next three minutes, grab my body and come after me. And then we can help them together.”
“Are you trying to destroy me?” Ull tipped his head back.
“I’m trying to save us. Please, let me go. Three minutes. I’ll set a timer.” I started to pull my phone out of my pocket.
“Flip phones do not come with timers, Kristia. We really need to update your device.”
“Come on, Ull. Please. Meet me in the Dark Forest in three minutes if I’m not back. But I swear I won’t take that long. If they’re in trouble, I’ll know it right away.”
Ull’s sigh let me know he’d seen reason. “Fine. But be quick. I cannot have you out of my sight any more today.”
“Used my quota, huh?” I gripped his bicep and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Something like that,” he muttered. But I was already gone, grounding my body and releasing my spirit.
Chapter Twelve
THE FOREST HAD DROPPED another few degrees in temperature by the time I returned. A light mist swirled across the ground, and the firm pressure worked to force me out of the space. I fought against it, staring at the scene below. If I only had three minutes, I needed to take in as much as I could.
Four figures shifted position in the mist. Angrboða stood at the base of a tree, her head whipping from Gunnar to Inga to Anders. The three gods had formed a triangle with Gunnar running point, and they were slowly advancing on the giantess. Inga’s swords were drawn, her rapier held at eye level and her dagger clutched firmly at her waist. Anders tossed a mace lightly between his hands. And Gunnar’s crossbow was lined up to shoot. Hel was nowhere in sight—they must have already taken her out, although I didn’t see her body anywhere. Regardless, with three-on-one odds, the giantess didn’t stand a snowball’s chance.
Except that she did.
Before Gunnar could fire off a shot, a half-dozen ikkedød rose from the mist. They surrounded Angrboða in a protective circle, blocking the gods’ path to their intended target. My heart lurched as the forest was filled with an overwhelming sense of desolation; the ikkedød were exercising their mood-altering power.
Gunnar swore. “No matter. Close off your minds and ignore whatever they’re trying to make you feel. We’re doing this. On my mark.”
He fired off two quick shots. The arrows pierced the undead, their corpses exploding into a gaseous mist that absolutely reeked of decay. He fired again, and two more shots eliminated two more creatures. Angrboða let out a roar, her pointed, yellow teeth flashing against her dark-purple lips. She wrapped her arms around a tree and uprooted it, then threw it at her assailants. Inga dove out of the way, but Gunnar ducked half a second too late. The tree nicked his shoulder, knocking him off balance. He went down hard, and when he pushed himself up there were sparks in his eyes.
“Now!” Gunnar shouted. He charged for the opening in the demons’ defenses. The remaining two ikkedød moved in front of Hel’s mother, taking the form of massive boulders. Inga ran around Gunnar and delivered a fierce front-kick to one of the rocks. A small fissure formed in its center.
“Arugh!” Inga let out a cry and kicked again, a forceful hitch that deepened the crack. “That’s for hurting my husband.” A front-kick. “That’s for messing with my friends.” Another front-kick. “And that’s for making me use my best dagger on a rock, for Helheim’s sake!” With that she delivered a swift strike to the center of the break, driving her dagger deep into the stone. The boulder dissipated at the contact. “Great Odin, that stench is wretched.”
“Sorry, doll,” Gunnar called over his shoulder. He and Anders pummeled the remaining boulder with bare fists while Angrboða lumbered toward another tree. “I promise we’ll get you a nice, long bath when this is over. With that smelly stuff you like to put in it.” Gunnar delivered another blow and the boulder crumbled, its dust blowing straight at Inga’s face. Angrboða froze, the tree still rooted in the ground. She whipped her head back and forth as she took in her destroyed protectors. Her guards may have been down, but I knew better than to count her out. She crouched down and let out a growl.
“Seriously? A bath? You’d better promise a heck of a lot more than that,” Inga grumbled.
“A back rub, then? Anything you want, babe.” Gunnar let out a snarl as he moved for the giantess. He pulled his crossbow off his back and aimed for her leg. Angrboða dropped to one knee as the arrow pierced her flesh. A spray of blood shot from her thigh as she let out a shriek and lunged for Inga. Inga turned to run, but she wasn’t fast enough. Enormous hands clasped around her tiny waist, and Angrboða pulled my friend off the ground.
“Put me down, you filthy troll!” Inga jammed her dagger into the giant’s hand. It pierced the flesh between Angrboða’s thumb and forefinger, sending a stream of blood shooting straight for Inga’s hair. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Angrboða let out a howl. She shook her hand back and forth, probably hoping to ease the pain. The motion sent Inga flying. She landed in a crumpled heap at the base of a tree. My stomach clenched, sending a wave of nausea up my throat. A blow like that should have broken her spine.
Good thing Inga was made of tough stock.
“Anders, end the monster. Mace to the other kneecap.” Gunnar shouted his order at the same time as he sprinted for Inga. He scooped her into his arms, gingerly touching the cut at her forehead. “Can you see me?”
Inga winced as she opened her eyes. “Yeah, I see you. All four of you.”
“Excellent. How many fingers?” Gunnar held up his hand.
“Just one. I’m okay, Andersson. Just covered in giant blood. I think I want that bath after all.” Inga let out a chuckle, then grabbed her ribs. “Ouch.”
“You’re not okay. You stay here while I finish this off.”
“Not a chance. She made me use my dagger on a bloody rock. Chick is mine.”
Gunnar shook his head but he held out his arm. “After you, my lady
.”
Inga pulled herself up, then adjusted her weapons. “On your count?”
Something glinted in Gunnar’s eye. “One…two.”
“Three!” Inga shouted. They turned together. As Anders delivered another blow with his mace, Gunnar fired an arrow at Angrboða’s temple and Inga flew through the air, driving her rapier into the giantess’ stomach. It pierced all the way to the hilt before Inga withdrew the blade and darted back. Angrboða’s eyes rolled in her head. She swayed from side to side, then fell face-first into the dirt. Gunnar fired one last shot and the monster let out a low groan. Her leg twitched, and then she was still.
“Well, that was fun. Too bad the daughter got away.” Gunnar slapped Inga on the behind. She turned to him with a huge smile and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Anders exhaled, his hands on his knees. “Where did Hel go?”
Inga shook her head. “No clue. We’ll track her eventually. Nobody scratches my rapier and gets away with it.”
“Gods, I love your vindictive streak.” Gunnar grabbed Inga’s ponytail and pulled her face to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. He stumbled back a step, catching himself on the trunk of a tree. He palmed Inga’s behind and whirled one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, so her back was against the bark. I averted my gaze when I heard her low moan. My three minutes were up. And from the looks of things, our friends would be just fine on their own.
“Guys.” Anders’ voice broke the awkward moment. “We have to get out of here. Odin needs to know what happened.”
“We just need one more minute.” Gunnar waved his hand.
“Speak for yourself,” Inga mumbled.
With a smile I let the Dark Forest push me up. I soared back to my body, biting back a laugh the entire way.
“Thank Odin you are back.” Ull let out a heavy sigh as I re-entered my body. “I was about to come for you.”
I shifted in his arms as his face came into focus. His jaw was set and the V between his brows was back. My fingers traced it lightly until it disappeared. Ull might have been divine, but there was no need to encourage wrinkling.
“What happened? Are they all right?”
“They’re great.” I giggled. “But they’re a little distracted at the moment. I wouldn’t expect to hear from them any time soon.”
“Should we send for reinforcements? I can get Thor on the line and—”
“Ull.” I paused. There really wasn’t a tactful way to put it. “They killed the giant so they’re, uh, celebrating. Alone.”
“Oh.” Ull’s eyes widened as surprise settled on his face. Then he scowled. “They pick the least appropriate times to do that. Why are you laughing?”
“Because. You’re cute.” I scooted up to kiss his cheek, then settled comfortably back into his lap. “The giantess is dead. The minions are too, though one scratched Inga’s blade and she’s seriously ticked. Hel seems to have gotten away, though. Is that bad?”
“It is not ideal.” Ull stared out the window, watching the sheep in the meadow behind Ýdalir. “But it is not necessarily an imminent problem. With the ikkedød depleted and Angrboða out of the picture, Hel’s defenses are not at their strongest. She will most likely have to sit the rest of the confrontation out while she regroups. She has never been one to fight her own battles when she has servants to do it for her.”
“That’s good, at least.”
“What is good is that you are safely back with me. I do not like when you are gone—even when you leave a part of yourself in my arms.” Ull rubbed one palm along the side of my jeans. The chill of the forest evaporated as warmth spread throughout my lower extremities.
“Can we take a break?” My voice sounded embarrassingly hopeful.
“Of course. You must be hungry. I can make us lunch.” Ull stood without putting me down, moving toward the kitchen.
“Or we could do something else?” I hinted.
Ull gave me a look that bordered on shock and pride. “You are as bad as Inga. I will feed you lunch. There will be plenty of time for ‘something else’ after we deal with Loki.”
Loki. Right. For the tiniest moment, I’d actually forgotten. “Tonight then,” I acquiesced.
“Odin willing.” Ull set me on the barstool at the kitchen island, then opened the refrigerator. “I have a feeling we are in for a longer day than we had imagined.”
By late afternoon, we still hadn’t heard anything from Sif and Thor, which worried us more than we were willing to admit. They should have killed the animals by now. Olaug was keeping herself busy in the kitchen, and Ull and I had moved outside to the garden. Ull sat on the chair by to the window, and I sat nearest the foxgloves.
We were trying to play a game of gin rummy, something I’d learned so long ago I’d forgotten completely, when we heard it. The unmistakable “pop” of a visitor’s entry to Earth. Entry through the Bifrost was silent, but coming by any other means produced a distinct sound.
“Olaug,” Ull called softly. “Send a message to Odin. Tell him Loki is here. Send the reinforcements.” I heard her scuttle downstairs as Ull took my hand. “Do you remember what I told you?”
I nodded. We would fight as a team. I was no warrior like Sif—I would probably never be to Ull what she was to Thor. But I would stand next to my husband and defend our existence with everything I had. It was all I could do. I clasped his hand as we rose to meet our fate.
“Olaug, wait!” I cried. Her footsteps stilled; she was listening. My vision blurred violently, and I grabbed my head as I bent over.
Tyr waved an arm forward, then crept across the dock toward the boat. Odin followed his command without question, following the war god directly into a trap. Neither of them noticed the nine creatures—three jotuns, three dwarves, two trolls and a sea monster—emerging from black waters to defend the vessel.
My sight returned and I leaned on Ull, gasping with effort. “They know about the boat. They’ve sent guards to defend it. Make sure Odin brings warriors of his own.”
Olaug nodded before she scurried off, and I could only hope that Odin would get this message before he left Asgard. The future of our worlds depended on it.
Ull helped me stand, gently massaging my aching temples and staring at me with awe. I was getting better at controlling my abilities. Ull kissed the top of my head and my mind briefly sifted through the happy memories we had shared in our home. Would we be here again when darkness fell? Or would we be somewhere very different?
The footsteps of our unwelcome visitor brought me back from my thoughts. With his arms extended as if in welcome, Loki walked toward the gate of our blossoming garden. The flowers swayed as if trying to shirk away from him. The sky dimmed from a clear blue to a murky grey. And my heart froze as I stared at the monster whose very existence made my world a living nightmare.
Chapter Thirteen
“ULL, OLD FRIEND,” Loki growled. He didn’t look quite the way he had in my dreams. He was more refined today; his dark hair was slicked back, and his brown eyes pierced from beneath well-groomed brows. His ears weren’t pointy anymore, either. That must have been a ruse for my benefit, to throw false light on the elves, in case I was smart enough to catch on. I wasn’t. He was impeccably dressed and would have been downright attractive if I didn’t know the evil inside him.
“So sorry to have missed the wedding. My invitation must have gotten lost. I was unaware you married the human.” The word came out as a hiss, and I stepped back. Loki was quick to collect himself.
“Hello, poppet,” he keened in the voice I remembered all too well. “Have you missed me?” He reached in my direction and I pulled back. The cloud over his coffee-colored eyes betrayed a dark soul.
“Long time no see, Loki.” I held his gaze. Loki was unfazed.
Ull stood protectively in front of me on the cobblestone courtyard. I was next to the table under the window, holding onto the back of Ull’s shirt. Fifty feet separated us from th
e low stone fence, and Loki stood just on the other side. Ull’s fury was well contained, though the flex of his muscles reminded me that at any moment he would be prepared to strike. He planned to play this as coolly as Loki did until violence became absolutely necessary.
“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?” Loki taunted.
I knew this was the trick. He couldn’t cross the threshold of the low stone fence—Ull’s enchantments protected us from unwanted visitors. But if we asked him inside the garden all bets were off, and I’d be reliving the nightmare where he strangled me.
Somehow, Loki knew he needed an invite. His eyes brewed with rage when Ull sat down and pulled me onto his lap. This was part of our plan, too. Stalling would keep Loki around long enough for our reinforcements to arrive. The warriors would be here soon, and thanks to the Bifrost’s silent entry we would have the element of surprise. As terrifying as this was, I was glad Loki had come. It was our best chance to capture him.
“It is far too nice a day to be indoors,” Ull drawled. He twirled his finger in the air, conjuring a table and chair on the opposite side of the garden wall—just outside Ýdalir and right in front of Loki.
“Have a seat, enjoy a refreshment.” Another twirl and a glass appeared on the table. Gravity of the situation aside, I was impressed. Manners and magic could commingle quite nicely.
“What brings you to Ýdalir, Loki?” Ull kept his voice calm. “One of Olaug’s famous apple pies, perhaps?”
“Enough of the pleasantries, Ull.” Loki stormed toward the gate, knocking the chair to the ground but stopping short when Ýdalir refused to let him in. “You know why I’m here. Your wife will be radiant spending eternity as a jotun bride. I told you I’d take you if it came to it, didn’t I, poppet?”
