“Thiassen,” Loki choked, then coughed, then swallowed the blood he tasted on his tongue. “You’re probably the last . . . person I expected to meet here this evening.”
Loki paused, frowning. Somewhere in the back of his mind swam a memory of upheaval and battle, of punishment and ice. There was a reason this gargantuan should not—could not—be standing before him. But Loki's vision began to dim again, and he lost the thread of his thought.
Instead, he smiled vaguely up at Thiassen. “In fact, your face never sprang to mind at all these last days, since receiving your note.”
The giant loosened his grip and then grabbed Loki by both shoulders when the old god’s knees started to buckle. “By the Nine Realms, Loki, what is wrong with you? Can you not stand?”
Loki gripped Thiassen’s elbows, weakly. He attempted a smile. “I’ve been feeling a bit unwell.”
Thiassen walked him over to a damp park bench and sat him down. Loki collapsed in what was not quite a heap, but close. Loki leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He stared at the pavement and tried to get his eyes to focus.
“You got skinny,” Thiassen grunted. “Like a weakling calf. Look at you, with your manufactured garments just hanging off of you.”
Loki pressed his fingers against his throbbing temples. Finding and securing the Yggdrasil was supposed to have restored them all to health and vitality. But not even Frigga and Freya’s fussy ministrations, herbal compresses, and weed-based salves had made the slightest difference. He kept getting worse.
Thiassen leaned back, and the bench groaned in complaint. “You need the apples, do you not?”
Loki looked up at him through his stringy hair.
Thiassen sniffed and nodded. “How long has it been for you, since the last harvest? Four centuries, at least.”
Loki rested his body carefully against the bench and breathed deeply. Iduna’s apples, from the sacred grove behind the mists, in the sunlit region where the land of the gods and the land of mortals touched. He remembered meeting the cargo ship in Virginia after the trees last produced, spotting Bragi in that ridiculous colonial costume as he unloaded dozens of wooden chests after months at sea.
Loki hadn’t envied him that duty—languishing on the open water with a gaggle of religiously fervent and enterprising mortals making the crossing from the Old World, and having to artfully evade questions about his own purpose and cargo. Maybe Bragi had told them his crates contained hand-lettered Bibles by which to teach the local savages to read—but in truth he’d been escorting a vital shipment of immortal apples.
Loki smiled at the memory of the reinvigorating feast Odin’s clan enjoyed that season.
Had it been four hundred years already?
“Is it going as badly with the All-Father and his lot, then?” Thiassen asked.
Loki studied Thiassen’s face. All-Father. That was a title he hadn’t heard applied to Odin in a very long time. How was it this particular immortal came to be sitting here with him now?
Loki remembered the note in his pocket. “You need my help with something?”
Thiassen chuckled. “My apologies for the vagueness of my request. I had to get you out here somehow and could not risk the consequences should my missive fall into enemy hands.”
Loki frowned. Enemy hands.
Thiassen looked out over the water. “I had thought of forging a ransom note regarding your son.”
Loki sat sharply upright and tried to ignore the vice-grip of his migraine on either side of his skull.
“No, no,” Thiassen waved off his worry. “Fenrir is safe. Or I assume as much. In truth, I have no idea where he is.” He paused. “And I assume you do not, either?”
Loki looked away and focused on the winged monument instead.
“I was surprised to find you so close to Odin and his clan.” Thiassen leaned over the side of the bench and spat the bitter taste of Odin’s name out of his mouth. “I would have expected you to remain closer to home, and far away from that nefarious lot.”
Loki started to defend his often-estranged kin, but stopped himself when he caught the conspiratorial glint in the giant’s eyes. Loki managed a wan smile instead.
“So, you want to tell me why I’ve traveled all this way, in my weakened condition, to sit with you on a wet bench in the middle of the night?”
Thiassen lifted his eyebrows in genuine surprise. “I would have thought the mere sight of me would have been clear enough.” He studied Loki’s face in the dim light. “You are dangerously close to the edge, indeed?”
Loki shrugged.
Thiassen stood up and stepped in front of Loki. “That is no matter at this stage. I have come to convey you home.”
“Home?”
One corner of the giant’s mouth ticked upward. “You have stayed far too long in this foreign land. It is no wonder, with so much busy-ness, so many bright lights, and too much noise.” Thiassen surveyed the street lamps and the illuminated monument. “A couple of centuries of this strange madness could disorient anyone.”
The giant shook his massive head and wrinkled his nose. “And the close, pungent scent of mortal beasts! How do you stand it?” Thiassen shivered.
Loki leaned forward and caught him with a hard stare. “You’re cold?”
Thiassen smiled but didn’t make eye contact. “Millennia of ice, my old friend.”
Loki inhaled sharply. Ice.
“I’m guessing you weren’t suddenly released on your own recognizance?” Loki thrust his hands into his jacket pockets and crossed his ankles. “Time off for good behavior?”
“The Earth herself has mercy on our kind.” Thiassen reached a hand down to Loki. “And as such, it is time for you to return to your homeland. To take your rightful place at the head of the new Frost Giant Army.”
Loki started to laugh. “You think so, do you?”
He struggled to get up. Thiassen reached out to help him, but Loki fell back to the bench. His heart pounded and his head was swimming. He looked first to the sky and then to where the trees should have been, but all he saw was stars.
And then everything went black.
Elements of Magic (Rune Witch 2) is available now on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
Also by Jennifer Willis
Rhythm
The Rune Witch series
Moon Dog Magic
Elements of Magic
Black Pool Magic
Raven Magic
Chaos Magic (coming spring/summer 2018)
Twilight Magic (coming spring/summer 2018)
Mars Adventure Romance Series (M.A.R.S.)
Mars Ho!
Lovers and Lunatics
Mars Heat
For news of future books, occasional freebies, and other updates, please visit jennifer-willis.com and/or sign up for my readers list.
Acknowledgments
I would like to offer my heartfelt thanks to . . .
Jeff Robinson, for telling me how cool the story sounded and lending his expert design assistance on the series’ first covers.
Tuffy Black for being a long-distance cheerleader and one of my best beta readers.
Laurel Standley for Tuesday morning write-ins, random brainstorming and sound-boarding, and being a good friend through it all.
The Masked Hucksters—Rebecca, Wendy, and Dale—for fishbowl sessions, mastermind energy, and general pervasive awesomeness.
Terri Kleinberg for listening patiently to my thinking out loud about mythology, plot points, and character conflicts, which eventually all somehow fell into place.
The Coffee Coven for helping me name The Cauldron & Crumpet, and just for being so awesomely witchy.
Chris Baty and the team at National Novel Writing Month and the Office of Letters and Light—and, heck, anyone who’s ever done NaNoWriMo, particularly those who are active on the online forums. Moon Dog Magic (originally Valhalla) began as my NaNoWriMo project for 2008, and without the framework of this annual month of literary insanity
, there’s really no telling how long it would have taken to write the first draft. (Seriously, if you want to write a novel, give NaNoWriMo a shot!)
The City of Portland and surrounding counties for being so delightfully eclectic and open.
Bryan Cohen, for pushing me to rebrand and relaunch this series, and for an amazing and productive couple of days in Chicago.
Mike—who snagged the dedication but deserves additional recognition—for believing so strongly in the story that he became something between an evangelist and tyrant in pushing me to publish, staging spontaneous readings for anyone who walked into the living room, being my model for Loki, and giving me a soft place to fall.
The many friends, family members, and even acquaintances who listened to me talk about this story ever since I started the first draft. Moon Dog Magic has come a long way since then, and your enthusiastic response let me know it was a story that needed to be told.
. . . And, I suppose, the Norse gods and people themselves, for lending their mythology and legends to the telling of this tale.
About the Author
Author photograph by Rachel Hadiashar.
Jennifer Willis loves tales of magickal mayhem, unlikely adventure, and playful intrigue.
An admitted sci-fi nerd and urban fantasy fan, she is the author of the Rune Witch urban fantasy series and the M.A.R.S. science fiction romance books. When she’s not hiking, knitting, baking, star-gazing, or reading like a fiend, she spends her time trying to bring enchantment to the world. She is the writer behind the Northwest Love Stories feature in The Oregonian and has a byline in the Hugo Award-winning Women Destroy Science Fiction anthology from Lightspeed.
She lives in Oregon with her dude, their dog, a quartet of cats, and possibly a family of raccoons residing under the house.
For more information . . .
Jennifer-Willis.com
Moon Dog Magic Page 33