Dead Radiance

by Ayer, T. G.

  Among the deeper shadows of the room, in the far corner of the lab, a red spot glowed. It reminded me of a cigar. The spicy aroma teased my nostrils. I squinted. A shadow moved, ever so slightly. Instinct said scream but common sense countered with silence.

  "I wouldn't scream if I were you," a man said, almost as if he could read my mind, and far too nonchalant for my liking.

  Aidan's seat went rolling across the tiled floor, and he stood by my side in two seconds, staring at the shadow. "Who's there?"

  "Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot." And he stepped from the shadows. He smiled. A mischievous smile, bordering on charming. An oily, practiced, all too self-aware charming.

  "Who are you? How did you get in?" Aidan demanded. He'd locked the door behind us when we entered, a small precaution. Not wanting the open door to attract a curious late-night staffer. No other doors or windows offered entry. It seemed impossible that the intruder had been hiding in here in the shadows all along. Watching us.

  "I can go where I wish, when I wish." He left the shadows, strolled toward us and had the audacity to blow cigar smoke at our faces and smile serenely. His bright blue eyes sparkled and white blond hairs stuck up in a multitude of angles at the top of his head. Broad-shouldered, tall and entirely too good looking to be trustworthy. His demeanor was designed to put us at ease, but I wasn't buying it. And it seemed, neither was Aidan. He tensed beside me.

  "Who are you? And what do you want?" Anger edged Aidan's voice. Anger at this man who'd followed us here and who'd no doubt get us caught.

  "Don't worry, my dears, I'm only here to help you." He affected a quick bow. "My name is Loki."

  "Loki?" I blinked, first shocked then dismayed to discover who our stalker was. Even I knew the stories of Loki and all the nonsense he got up to. Aidan's hands curled into fists. I could almost feel the energy flow off his body.

  "Don't look so excited to see me, Brynhildr." Loki seemed put out by my lack of enthusiasm.

  "My name's Bryn," I shot back. "So how do you plan on helping us? And why?"

  "I have an item which might be of interest to you." His eyes glittered.

  The more he talked, the more the gem at my throat warmed beyond its usual comforting heat. Much like when I'd been close to Freya herself. I watched Loki, eyes narrowed, as he withdrew a small cloth package from his pocket.

  He unfolded it, his hands graceful, mimicking those of a magician, as if mere gestures would throw us at his mercy. But what he unwrapped was the last thing I expected. An amber stone lay in the middle of the silky black cloth, so similar to mine it was undoubtedly part of a set or part of something bigger.

  Loki held a piece of Brisingamen in his hand.

  ***

  Both amber jewels glowed as if each sensed the nearness of the other piece. I imagined Brisingamen, once put together, would be a sight beyond beautiful. But as much as I wanted to reach for it, I didn't trust Loki. The God of Mischief, the god not known for playing fair. Something about his eyes gave me visions of Shylock, demanding his pound of flesh. Or my heart on a silver platter.

  I held back, but Aidan reached for the gem, holding it in his palm as if it were a fragile seashell, as if it would disintegrate if you even breathed on it. "Where did you get this?" Aidan asked, his voice harsh. No respect for this god.

  "Well, boy. That counts as information, doesn't it?" Loki grinned.

  I had no patience for his fun and games. "What do you want? You bring part of Brisingamen to us and then tease us with it? That doesn't sound much like help to me."

  "Oh no. Now don't you go making me out to be the bad guy here. I'm not the one who sent you on this near impossible mission, am I?" Loki wagged a finger at me, teeth gleaming in the dim light. But his eyes glowed, bitter black coals. Funny, I could have sworn they'd been an icy blue when he'd first emerged from the shadows. "I want to help you. Because I'm such a nice guy."

  How was it that Loki spoke with such a modern accent? Perhaps he had spent a few years in Midgard then. I didn't really care to waste time thinking about it. I asked, "And in return?"

  "Nothing. I don't want payment for helping you. It's time Freya got her damned jewels back. She's had to live without them for far too long. Takes the fun out of teasing her, you know."

  "So where did you find this?"

  "It was given to me by someone. As a gift."

  "Who is this someone?" Aidan bit out the question, impatient with Loki as he drew out each answer.

  "His name is Nidhogg, and—"

  "And he lives in the frigging Underworld!" Aidan spat. I was grateful he, at least, knew his Norse mythology well. "How do you propose we get there?"

  "Oh, I can help you get there if you agree to go." Loki leaned against a table and withdrew a slim metal knife to clean his fingernails, while he puffed away at his cigar. He had no problem making himself comfortable.

  "On one condition," Aidan said. I scowled, annoyed he'd made the decision without consulting me. Annoyed in spite of knowing I would have agreed myself.

  "Well, boy, let's hear your condition, then." Loki cleaned the tiny blade, inspected the grit he'd removed, then flicked it away, not caring where it would land. I cringed, disgusted, and watched the swirling blue cigar smoke snake around the room, wondering if it would set the fire alarm off.

  Aidan raised his chin with attitude. "Give us three days. Then we'll agree to go."

  "Why not go now?" Loki's eyes narrowed, now simmering a catlike green.

  "Because I only just got out of Asgard. That's why. I'd rather not go running back there just yet." Aidan shrugged, appearing nonchalant, buying time with the only excuse that might sound believable to a god who hadn't exactly had fun in Asgard.

  "Ah, the Warrior doesn't like his new accommodation. If you must know, Freya's place isn't much better, although it's not much worse. But then, you probably won't go there either way." Loki looked at me, held my gaze and grinned. Not a hint of maliciousness in his cheerful smile, but I could feel his meaning reaching out to me from his eyes.

  He knew.

  "We'll go back as soon as we find Brisingamen," I said. "But we need the three days. There are a few things we need to do first. Going back is really a one way trip for both of us." I pretended I'd missed his underlying malevolence, smiling coyly as I spoke.

  "Very well. Three days. Don't worry, I'll find you, kiddoes."

  We blinked and he was gone.

  ***

  Aidan handed me the pendant, and I frowned, turning the piece over and over in my hand. Unlike my stone, this pendant had no silver filigree around it and I guess that perhaps it had been treated differently from the main stone. I untied the cord around my neck and slipped Loki’s gift beside it’s sister. Together the two stones glowed like a pair of shimmering suns.

  We completed gathering information, or rather Aidan did, as he knew what he was looking for and how to retrieve it. I felt unnecessary, wondering for a few minutes why I'd even come along.

  Then I thought about Loki and his intentions. The god gave me the creeps, and I was grateful Aidan had the presence of mind to hold him off for a few days. My stomach did a trio of flip-flops when I recalled his subtle threat. Somehow, he knew that Aidan was ignorant of Freya's curse on his health. I battled my demons, waiting for Aidan.

  A few minutes later, he powered the workstation down, and I grabbed the icebox. We left the building the same way we entered, joined Hugin outside and returned to the motel at the outskirts of the city. Hugin flew through the open door, right before I closed it. I sneaked a look up and down the passage, pretty sure the motel owners didn't allow pets, furred, feathered or otherwise.

  We swallowed a dinner of burgers and fries. Still not as satisfying as Asgard's dinners but it filled the hole inside me, at least for a short while. I sprinkled a few fries onto the nightstand and beckoned Hugin, but he just thanked me with his usual glossy stare and didn't move. I studied Aidan as he munched. It made sense that we shared a room. Safety, company
and planning dictated it was the best option. Not to mention dollars. Although I had money, it wouldn't last long if we were careless.

  We sat on our beds, facing each other, eating and talking, coats discarded and armor glinting in the mean light of the motel room. It was so easy to forget we still wore the armor. The beauty of their construction was that although they were solid, impenetrable metal, they molded to the skin and adapted to the temperature of the wearer's body so well that soon you forgot you were even wearing cold metal. Amazing.

  I watched Aidan, still a little annoyed that he'd made the decisions for both of us. I wanted to know why. "Now what? Why'd you buy time?" I asked.

  "I wanted to make sure we had as much information as possible. We need to go to the museum too, retrieve those records." He glanced at the thumb drive on the bed, now filled with data from the lab's computers.

  "Why bother when Loki said Brisingamen is with this Nidi person?"

  "Because Loki is a liar and because Nidhogg is a dragon, for God's sake." Aidan sighed, exasperated, and challenged me with one raised eyebrow.

  "A dragon? Wow, I thought those were purely imaginary creatures." I glanced at Hugin who perched on top of the TV set. He inclined his head as if in agreement with Aidan. Well.

  Aidan snorted. "Clearly they're not. We've just had the reality of Asgard, Valhalla, Valkyries and Freya shoved down our throats."

  "Not to mention Fenrir," I added.

  "Fenrir? What do you mean?" Aidan's eyes widened.

  "You've met him. Fen. Fenrir." What did I have to do? Spell it out to him?

  "That was Fenrir? The Fenrir?" He rubbed his hair, tossing curls every which way and still managing to make it look like it was meant to be that way.

  "Yes, Fenrir. How many Fens do you know of?" I was starting to get annoyed with him. "Why the hell is this bugging you so much?"

  "Well, if he really is Fenrir, he's also a wolf." I raised both eyebrows, as if to say duh. Aidan blushed. "So you know that too," he said. "Do you know he's supposed to cause Odin's demise in the Great War? And what the hell is he doing in Asgard anyway? He's supposed to be in chains."

  "He pledged his services to Odin. He's vowed he has no intention of killing Odin, and that's how he ended up training the Warriors and the Valkyries."

  "Okay, this just keeps getting better." Aidan rubbed a hand through his hair and shook his head, clearly bewildered by this strange twist to the original myth. I decided to throw him another one.

  "He also trains his entire army of Ulfr, who are all based in Asgard too." I paused. "They will fight for Odin."

  Aidan's jaw dropped. "Why didn't I get to see that before we left?"

  "Because you were still in recovery." I popped the last fry into my mouth, squashed the wrappings into a ball and threw it in the wastebasket beside the TV. Neither of us was remotely interested in the television. The drama of our immediate life was much more invigorating than watching some reality show.

  "Bet Loki loves that," Aidan muttered.

  "Why?"

  "Because Fenrir is his son," said Aidan with about the same emotion as if he'd just said the Earth was round.

  "What?" I shook my head. Fenrir and Loki? Unbelievable. "I swear, if this is all a dream and I wake up back in Craven, I promise I'll study harder at Norse mythology. Any mythology, in fact."

  Aidan laughed.

  I lay back, staring at the ceiling, tracing the water stains that spread across it, marking irregular circles in a pattern from the doorway toward the bare light at the middle of the room. My eyes drifted closed and I was almost asleep, breathing so even. . . .

  "What was it like?" Aidan's voice entered my sleep haze.

  "What was what like?" I mumbled, turning to him, pulling the covers over me.

  "Seeing me dead by the stream."

  Damn you, Aidan!

  I was just about asleep, and he had to go and ask me a question of paramount proportion. I sat up and looked straight at him. He lay on his stomach, propping his head onto folded arms. His eyes said the question was serious. Not a joke. Not a test.

  I swallowed a sad and weary sigh. "It was a shock. I was so angry with you, first for leaving and then for coming back with your mob-men. But one look at your body and I forgot I was there to retrieve you. Forgot you would be okay. Fenrir had to give me a good shake and remind me what I was there to do."

  "Fenrir came with you?"

  I nodded. "Every Valkyrie has an Ulfr to accompany her. It was too soon for me to have trained with one. So, as the General, and as my trainer, Fenrir came with me." I lay back against my pillow. "I went to see Ms. Custer first. She told me you'd called and said you were coming, but you never arrived. I guess I found out why."

  "I remember being hit in the head. Then nothing."

  "They would've had to knock you out. You didn't look like you put up much of a fight either."

  "So how did they kill me? I definitely remember pain in my head when I woke up in Valhalla." Aidan fingered his forehead.

  A frigid wave of shock washed through my blood. Aidan had no idea how he'd died. I wasn't sure how to tell him. I decided to tell the whole story. He was a Warrior, after all. He could handle it.

  "You were lying beneath the old bridge in the reserve behind the park. You had one foot in the stream and your eyes were open." I swallowed as tears gathered in my throat. "You still had your black leather jacket on, but it was stained with mud and probably blood, too. I think I recognized it, but I didn't pay any attention to it at first. Only when I got real close. They executed you, Aidan. A bullet in the middle of your forehead at close range."

  The tears fell and neither of us moved.

  Aidan's fingers still traced his forehead, now wrinkled with a frown, darkened with anger. He was so silent for a while I thought he wasn't going to talk about it anymore. That the thought of his violent death was too difficult for him. But when he responded I was surprised.

  "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said. "You know it was probably worse for you than for me. I felt nothing more than a thump on my head and then it was lights out for me. No pain. Nothing. Next thing I knew I was waking up in Valhalla. Feeling as if I'd drunk a whole bottle of whiskey."

  He rose, as if he was about to get up and come to me. Just the thought of him offering me comfort made me want to bawl my eyes out. I rolled over, turned my back to him, and burrowed under the covers. To hide the tears that slipped so quickly down my cheeks, hide the ripe emotion in my eyes.

  I lay there, listening to him listening to me. It took us both forever to fall asleep. Much later I heard the fluttering of wings and the rustle of the curtain as Hugin flew from the TV stand to the window, looking outside at who knows what.

  When I finally slept, I dreamed of Loki and cruel laughter and bright colored eyes. Of dead eyes and icy blood coating my hands. And of Freya standing beautiful, perfect with her glowing circle of suns around her graceful neck.

  Chapter 35

  The next afternoon Aidan rose from a fitful sleep, with purpling bruises beneath his eyes and a tired, strained look pulling his face tight. But it was the faint bruise in the middle of his forehead that made my heart slam against my ribs. I contemplated telling him about the curse right there and then, before he could commit himself any further. But it wouldn't be worth it. He'd just be forced to come with me, if only to save his own life. And he would hate me for it.

  I gave him half a glass of Mead.

  "Wow. Whatever is in this drink is potent."

  I glanced up at him as I zipped up my boots. "You feeling better, then?" I tightened the belt around my waist and slung the pack over my shoulder. Thankfully, with the wintry weather we didn't stand out too much, all dark coats and boots.

  "Absolutely. I feel brand new." Aidan's eyes shone. I silently kicked myself, certain I must have given him too much. The last thing we needed right now was for Aidan to be high on Mead.

  "Come on then, Mr. Brand Spanking New. We have a museum to visit."
I grabbed his arm and pushed him out the door, smiling as he chuckled and made his way out.

  We checked out, grabbed a bus into the city center, then another into New York. The rest had done us well. In body, if not in mind.

  ***

  We lurked around the park across the street from the museum until well after closing. I studied the old building, with its towering columns guarding the museum's entrance, an impressive structure, built to awe those who passed over its threshold. Old stone meshed with modern architecture and landed on perfect.

  Again, the back entrance was our route, and Aidan's access cards still worked. The museum no doubt had no idea he'd "died." We slipped into the darkened building, bypassing the alarmed museum area, making our way upstairs to the offices and cataloging rooms. We passed standard issue offices ensconced amid intricate architrave work, and beautiful old prints on the walls. Aidan knew his way around and led us to a room in the far corner of the floor.

  Aidan made himself comfortable before the closest workstation, tapping away at the keyboard. Soon a printer hummed in a corner by the window, and I went to gather the papers for him, stuffing them into a large plastic envelope.

  The air conditioner would have shut off hours ago and the room was stuffy. I stood by the window, looking out at the thick darkness of the park, at the slight movement in the branches of the nearest tree where Hugin waited.

  It was so dark outside that the window reflected my face back at me. A young woman stared back, one who looked unaffected by the trauma and the stress and the guilt of the last few weeks. Was it the Valkyrie blood that made me this way? Strong in the face of adversity. Eyes still bright and alive, hair as hideously red as ever.

  Aidan's voice broke through my thoughts. "Right, got everything."

  "So what were you looking for?"

  He rustled the envelope in his hand. "A report listing all the items found at the original dig site and another one, which is a catalog of everything the museum has in its collection."