* * *
Dark. Lots of dark. Lots of dark and lots of headache and very little up and down. Conrad really would have preferred a few directional markers at the moment. He tried to say as much, and also mention that Mimir was trying to pull something funny with his head again, but Lily shushed him.
“Move your leg,” Loki told him from somewhere very close.
Conrad sort of flailed around, but he didn’t see legs or Loki, either one.
“Which one is mine again?”
“Oh great,” Hothe muttered. “You’ve broken him.”
“He better not have broken him,” Lily snapped.
“That… would be unfortunate,” Conrad agreed distantly, feeling like he might be sick, but feeling equally sure he didn’t have a stomach at the moment.
Loki chuckled. “Ah, you wouldn’t notice. A little builder’s putty…”
“Is this the crack my head open like a clam part?” Conrad asked and managed to get most of the words in the right places.
“Yup. So shut up, kid,” he said fondly, and Conrad felt gentle fingers in his hair.
A long moment passed. More dark. More headache. No sign of an up or down.
“Nothing’s happened,” Lily announced.
“Because it’s not all one, two, buckle my goddamned shoe, alright?” Loki snapped. “Takes effort.”
Hothe sighed. “We’re doomed. Oh, no, wait. Never mind. There it goes.”
“A pair of pants would have been nice,” Mimir muttered.
“Quit your whining, would you?” Loki said, peeved. “You’ve got a sheet.”
The Trickster Edda Page 13
