by Kendall Grey
I say, “Huginn, how do we get in touch with Muninn?”
“I severed my connection to Odin,” the bird says. “I used to go through him to find my brother.”
“Can you give it a try? Ask him if he’s willing to come over and help. Don’t tell him it’s for me, or he won’t do it.”
Huginn looks warily at Freddie, Alex, and Darryl Donovan. “Are we sure we want to do this here?”
Through the peephole, I see Gunnar Magnusson exiting our room and heading toward the elevator.
“Darryl Donovan,” I say, “would you be so kind as to help Gunnar Magnusson find my cakes? I’m sure if you ask nicely, he’ll locate a vegan shop for you.”
Darryl Donovan lifts a dubious brow. “You buying?”
I dig out a Ben Franklin from my purse and shove it into his hand. “Go wild.”
He opens the door and hollers, “Hold up, Gunnar.”
Excellent.
“Wait until they’re gone, and let’s give it a try, Huginn,” I say, peering through the cracked door after Gunnar Magnusson and Darryl Donovan. “Freddie and Alex are aware of what’s going on.”
Huginn nods. As soon as the coast is clear, he utters an incantation in Raven that I don’t understand. Then we wait.
Nothing happens.
“Try again,” I urge.
He does.
Nope.
“You think he’s still mad about me throwing him in the trunk?” I ask.
“You did what?” Huginn demands.
“I may have been a little rougher than necessary, but he’s immortal. I figured if anyone could survive a few hours locked in a car, it would be him.”
“Loki! That’s cruel and unusual punishment,” Huginn scolds.
“Well, I know that now.” I pause. “You don’t think he’s still stuck in there, do you?”
Huginn shrugs angrily. “Maybe. Where did you leave him?”
“Who remembers?” I say. “But Odin mentioned something about me not being able to stop him despite me locking Muninn up. He must’ve recovered the bird by now.” I hope.
“Honestly, Loki. You’re terrible. Makes me wonder when you’re gonna do that to me,” Huginn mutters.
“I would never,” I vow solemnly. “Well, not anymore.”
“Let me out. I’ll go find him.” Huginn groans and plumps his feathers.
Opening the door, I stare at him, unsure of what he has planned. “What are you gonna do? Cluck around in the parking lot and draw a spell circle to call him?”
“No,” Huginn says, lifting the foot with the metal bangle and shaking it. “I’m gonna do what I was born to do: become my namesake.”
“Thought?” I ask. Worry niggles the back of my brain. “How’s that going to work?”
He takes three steps across the threshold into the hallway, flaps his wings, and disappears into a whorl of color, slipping under the door to the stairs at the end of the corridor.
“What the shit?” Freddie squeals. “Since when does he fly like that?”
My mouth drops. Then I remember the time when Thor, a boy called Thjálfi, and I met a giant named Utgard-Loki, the king of a castle in Jotunheim. Utgard-Loki said we would be welcome at his table if we could complete certain trials. Thor tried and failed at three of the king’s tasks. He couldn’t out-drink a giant, nor could he pick up a cat, nor defeat an old nurse woman in a wrestling match. I was challenged to a goat-eating contest, and I would’ve won if my opponent Logi hadn’t devoured not only the goat’s meat but also its bones. Finally, Thjálfi, a star runner, lost three races against Hugi.
When we were set to leave the next morning, we were humiliated. Utgard-Loki asked Thor what he thought about the contests. Thor admitted he underperformed and was quite ashamed of it. That’s when Utgard-Loki revealed the truth.
Utgard-Loki was actually the giant Skrymir, and he had cheated. During the drinking contest, Thor’s drinking horn had been pulling liquid from the ocean, and the three gulps he swallowed had drained enough of the sea to create tides across Midgard. The cat Thor tried to lift was actually my son, Jormundgandr, the Midgard Serpent that encircles the entire earth. The elderly nurse was in fact Old Age, which no one can best. Logi, who consumed the entire goat in the eating contest, had been literal Wildfire, a major player in the chaos realm from which I hail. And Hugi, to whom Thjálfi lost his race, was Thought, which no mortal can outrun.
Hugi was Huginn. And Huginn is Thought, which can outrun any man or woman in Midgard.
Methinks Huginn’s rune had something to do with this sudden transformation. Me also thinks I’m glad I gave it back to him. It also explains how Huginn evaded the cats before I gave him the armor I crafted.
Mad respect, my avian friend!
Not a minute after Huginn leaves, he’s back with Muninn in tow. I slip into the hall to greet the brothers and shut the door behind me.
Muninn smacks me across the face with his tiny wing, which shouldn’t hurt, but a little thing like that flapping 200 miles an hour is like sharpened fan blades whirring an electric jig.
“Gods damn it!” I shout, and swipe at the spot. My fingers come away red.
“Cut the whining, bitch,” Muninn yells in his Samuel L. Jackson voice. “Do you have any idea how long I was stuck in that car? You don’t. So I’m gonna tell ya. Two days. In the dark. Without food or water. That’s animal abuse, bitch. I’m fixin’ to call the ASPCA and throw your ass in jail. You don’t lock a hummingbird in a trunk like it’s some kinda sensory deprivation tank for the immortal. That was torture. But you wouldn’t know nothin’ about that, would ya? You sittin’ up in here with your fancy clothes and your WeedPops and shit, looking down on your little kingdom like you own Midgard. Well, lemme tell ya somethin’. You don’t own shit. Get right with the Norns, bitch. They coming for you. I’ll make sure of that.”
I say quietly, “Not that I need to remind Memory of anything, but yes, I have in fact been a torture victim if your definition of the word includes being tied with your own child’s entrails to a rock while a snake continuously spits venom in your face for a few years.”
Muninn backs up.
“I’m sorry for locking you in the trunk of that car,” I say, “but you know I couldn’t risk you telling Odin where I was or tipping off my friends about who they are. I should’ve found another way to keep you away from them. It was my mistake.”
He’s lost some of his bluster. “Damn right it was your mistake. Now what the Hel do you want, trickster? I’m only here because Huginn asked me to come. You’re lucky I didn’t turn around and head straight to Allfather with news of your reemergence. He, Frigg, and Heimdall have been looking for you since last week. And don’t think for a second I won’t tell them exactly where you are, now that I’ve found you.”
Good to know Alex’s spell is working, at least.
I fold my hands in supplication. “Please, Muninn. Don’t tell.”
“Give me one good goddamn reason why I shouldn’t,” he barks.
I lift my eyes to him and turn on the waterworks, which is slightly overdramatic, but also slightly genuine. “Because I’m going to die tomorrow.”
He pauses and squints at me as if trying to determine whether I’m lying. “I was exaggerating about the Norns coming after you.”
“I wasn’t,” I say. “Skuld told me my time is up. Tomorrow’s my last chance to find Othala and Ihwaz, and I’ve only got a line on the former. Without Ihwaz, I’m done.”
“I’m not in the business of doing favors for people who try to kill me.”
“I never tried to kill you,” I correct. “The goal was to … contain you for a little while.”
“Please, Muninn,” Huginn says softly. “What would it hurt to help Loki if she’s going to die tomorrow anyway?”
Muninn looks at me and huffs. “What do you want?”
“My friend Freddie is Freya. I gave him the rune that belongs to her, but he doesn’t remember anything of his past. I thought maybe you could
help him wake up.”
“So, now you want me around? That’s a hell of a flip.”
“It’s important,” I say. “Freya might have the magic I need to retrieve my runes.”
“Might?”
“I won’t know for sure until she awakens.”
“She’s gonna be even more pissed at you than I am. Where is she?”
I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “In here.”
He huffs. “Lead the way, bitch.”
I open the door, stick my head in, and say, “Are you ready for this, Freddie?”
“How bad could it be?” he asks. “Hurry up. I’m eager to remember how mad I am at you.”
“Think about the prank you pulled on me at the Brazilian wax place,” I remind. “Might take a little of the edge off.”
“I doubt it,” Freddie retorts.
We go in. Muninn flits over to Freddie and lands on his shoulder. Freddie instantly drops to the bed. His eyes roll back in his head.
Shite, that was fast. I run over to him. Alex and I try to drag him out of his apparent trance, but he won’t budge. His eyes twitch behind their lids with frenetic jerks. Alex smacks his face a couple times, but it doesn’t help. Freddie is no longer home. Worse, I’m not sure who is. Doesn’t look like the Freya I remember.
I whirl on Muninn. “What did you do to him?”
Hovering in the air above Freddie’s knee, he shrugs. “I just give them their memories. I can’t control what they do with ’em. Not my problem.”
He buzzes to the cracked door, and with a wing, shoves it open just enough to get through. He targets me with eye missiles that destroy me before they even launch. “You’re on your own from here. If you’re still breathing by the stroke of twelve tomorrow night, all bets are off, and I’ll tell Odin where you are,” Muninn says. He pauses before taking flight. “A word of advice. If I were you, I’d hope for death by Norn. What Frigg has planned for you will be far worse.”
With that, he zips away in a blur of red, green, and gold.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Come on, Freddie. Wake up,” Alex says, tapping his partner’s cheeks. His motions are calm and measured, but his coal eyes widen with worry.
Freddie’s body is straight and rigid as a tree trunk. His shallow breaths rush like pants. Wiggles jumps up beside him and gently nibbles on Freddie’s fingers while Sparky kneads his chest as if performing CPR.
“Please, mistress.” Strain mars Wiggles’s voice. “Come back to us.”
“Freya,” Sparky caterwauls with ears drawn. “Freya!”
Freddie’s lids flutter for a few seconds and part to reveal a pair of glittering fawn-brown eyes. They didn’t look like that before. The color is right, but there’s an otherworldliness beaming from within them.
“Freya?” I say, cautiously sitting beside him.
He focuses on Alex and reaches for him. “What happened?”
Alex brushes Freddie’s dark locks out of his face and runs a trembling hand down his cheek. The relief streaming off him is palpable. “Muninn woke you. It’s me, Alex. And look. Here are Glitra and Sveifla, your cats. And there’s Loki.”
Gripping Alex’s arm like a cane, Freddie tries to sit up. The cats tumble onto the mattress. I run to the sink, unwrap a plastic cup, fill it with water, and give it to him. He nods his thanks, then does a double take. “Loki?” he—she squeals. “You’re Loki?”
Oh boy.
I brace myself for the onslaught and ease out of striking range. Freddie’s body may be in a weakened state, but he can still hit me, and my rib isn’t up for more jouncing. Nor is my messed-up heart, which is currently ticking at the speed of a Viking-metal double bass drum roll.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Don’t be mad.”
Wiggles shakes his head at me. “Oh, you done done it now.”
Freya swings Freddie’s legs off the bed and leaps to his feet, throwing the water from the cup into my face. Laguz’s reflexes are fast enough to turn my head, but I remain still and take it like a god. I totally deserve her—their ire.
I can already tell this is gonna get real confusing, real fast.
Freya thrusts Freddie’s finger under my nose. “How dare you drape yourself in a woman’s guise, pretend to befriend me, and use my money and connections to further your own pitiful goals! You kicked off Ragnarok like it was just another day at the office. You killed everyone. You’re a liar and a cheat and I’m not sure how I know what an office is—” She pauses and seems to pick through the myriad of thoughts and memories that must be ransacking Freddie’s mind.
She lifts an arm and stares at it. “Why am I so hairy?” She touches Freddie’s lips. “Why is my voice deep?”
Alex turns her around and marches her to the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. “You’ve been reincarnated. You’re a man now. We call you Freddie.”
Freddie’s jaw swings open as Freya takes in her new body. She inspects his face, poking at his goatee. Her gaze skims slowly down. She rubs his chest, pokes a leg, and pats his package. Eyes wide, she turns to Alex. “Who are you?”
Alex winces and quickly smooths his wrinkled expression flat. “Your … friend. Alex. I used to be a dark elf named Kolatoframadr.”
Freya furrows her brow. “I don’t remember you.”
“You don’t remember me because I never approached you, despite being madly in love with you, goddess,” Alex confesses.
“Then, we’re lots more than friends.” That sounds like Freddie.
Fascinating. Freddie and Freya are both in there. If they ever forgive me, I’m totally picking their brain about this transformation. So many questions. Who decides who’s in control? Do they both remember the other’s past? Does it all just blend together? And perhaps most importantly, WHICH PRONOUNS SHOULD WE USE?
“Why didn’t you tell me you loved Freya?” Freddie asks.
Alex lowers his head. “I was afraid you’d—she’d reject me. I couldn’t deal with missing the opportunity of knowing you twice. I figured I’d give Freddie and Alex a try since Freya and Kolatoframadr were never meant to be.”
“You big jerk.” Freddie swipes a palm over Alex’s cheek and dissolves into him. The two kiss for a long, sweet moment. Their mouths are one, and their bodies unlock each other’s secrets in a language only they understand.
I should look away. It’s rude to stare. But despite Freya being angry at me, Freddie is still my friend, and I care about him. It makes my broken heart happy to see that love isn’t bound by silly constructs of time or space. Love is eternal. There’s hope yet.
When their lips part, Freddie presses his forehead into Alex’s. They gaze into each other’s eyes. Now I do turn away, wiping a tear under the guise of clearing the water Freya flung from my face. I head for the door.
“I’m not done with you,” Frey-ddie calls after me.
I halt my steps and turn around. “What can I say? I was awful to you, Freya. If I could take it back, I would. I’m not the man I used to be.”
“Well, that’s obvious.” Her eyes slip down to my lady lumps. “You called me a whore. On multiple occasions.”
I dip my head. “I did.”
“Slut shaming is a bad look,” she continues, “and you had no right to trash me for bedding anyone. You were the biggest slut of all, dallying with horses and monsters. You make me sick.”
“You’re right,” I say. The truth burns across my skin. “But I wasn’t always terrible to you. I saved you from being married off to the frost giant Thrym, remember? I accompanied Thor, who was dressed in your likeness, to Jotunheim and played the role of your handmaiden. With my silver tongue, I tricked Thrym into giving Mjolnir back to Thor. It was no easy task keeping that brute from smashing the giant before the hammer was returned, by the way.”
She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms defiantly. “What about the time you stole my necklace and gave it to Odin?”
I blurt, “Well, I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t boffed tho
se—”
She straightens, stiff as a spear, her nostrils flaring and upper lip curling. “Excuse me?” The high note of incredulity in her voice pierces my ears.
I slam my lips together with a pop. Reminding Freya about sleeping with four dwarves to get that necklace is probably not in my best interest at the moment. I lower my chin deferentially and try another tack. “Apologies. I was simply doing Odin’s bidding.”
“Pfft,” she hisses between her teeth. “At my expense. Just as your nature drives you to mischief, mine is bent toward pleasures of the flesh. We cannot help who we are.”
“Perhaps,” I agree. “But I’ve changed. You helped change me. If not for you and Gunnar Magnusson, I’d be the same fool Loki, wearing a new body, but still looking for trouble under rocks and in shadows.
“I understand your anger toward me. I deserve it. I know now that I was wrong. I’m doing my best to make up for it. Give me a chance. Please.”
Freya disentangles herself from Alex’s arms and approaches me, accusation spread across Freddie’s face. She takes me in from head to toe, analyzing every feature, line, and curve. “I’d be lying if I said my feelings weren’t hurt. I need to think about what’s happened and to assimilate this new information. I don’t even know who I am, let alone any of you.”
Freya looks down the length of her new body and plucks at a speck of lint on her shirt. “This is like waking up from a coma. Like I lost track of portions of my life, and a foreign entity filled in the gaps. Except he’s not foreign. I have his memories, his hopes, his dreams.” She glances to Alex on the last word. Then Freddie seems to take over. “I know who you are. The character you’ve revealed to me over the last month is different from the one we knew before, but our shared past is going to be difficult to overcome.”
I nod. This is the best I could’ve hoped for under the circumstances. Freya needs to heal. Freddie too.
“I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of both of your friendships.” I pick up Huginn and head for the door.
“Loki,” Alex says behind me. “What’s next?”
I shrug. “I hoped that if we woke Freya, she’d remember at least some of her magic and could help me retrieve my rune from Angrboda.”