Loki kept quiet.
“She didn’t want me to invite you, either.”
Loki nodded. Heimdall would reveal more if Loki held his tongue.
“I thought this would be a good opportunity for everyone to come together and make peace,” Heimdall said. “Or at least start trying.”
He patted Laika again, leaning down to scratch behind her ears. “It’s been a rough adjustment for everybody.”
Heimdall pulled up a footstool and sat. Laika lay down at his feet.
“Ted shared some disturbing news, as the Valkyries were arriving.” Heimdall leaned close. “No one’s heard from Frigga or Odin.”
Loki sat up a little straighter. This was curious. By now, one or more of the Valkyries would have had the dream of escorting the departed Odin and Frigga from the living world of Midgard through Helheim and to the Halls of Valhalla. A delay of a few weeks wasn’t unheard of, but it had been four full turnings of the moon since Odin and Frigga had shrugged off their nearly immortal bodies.
“What do you think it means?” Heimdall was petting Laika harder, sublimating his worry into comfort. Laika wasn’t at the point of protest, but Loki could see in her eyes that she wasn’t keen on Heimdall’s heavy hand.
“I can’t remember anything like this.” Heimdall ran a hand across the back of his neck, giving Laika a break. “Naturally, Thor’s bent on launching a raid on Helheim.”
“Your brother is uncomfortable with inaction.”
Heimdall’s laughter was strained. “He’s not the only one. Maggie says we should give it more time, but she doesn’t have any experience with this. She doesn’t understand the significance of pretty much everything that’s going on around here.”
“You might say the same of us all,” Loki mused. He was the oldest of them, and he had no experience with the loss of the Lodge holders, either.
Loki watched Sally. She stood at the bar and smiled, engaged in conversation with two of the younger Valkyries. He made a mental note to inquire about her personal life. He knew how pervasive any form of magick could be, but chaos in particular rarely left a single aspect of a wielder’s existence untouched.
He’d tried to warn her, but she’d already experienced it herself from the moment she cast her ill-fated spell of Odin’s Return when she was just sixteen. She’d had chaos in her even then. If she was to accept the burden now before her . . . Loki stopped his own line of thinking. He’d been around and around this spiral many times. It didn’t matter what her attitude was, or whether she liked her training. She didn’t have a choice in who and what she was.
“I’m trying not to rock the boat,” Heimdall said. “For anyone.”
Loki was intrigued by Heimdall’s hasty addition. He surveyed the room again and paid special attention to the generous table. Maggie was already responsible for the apple grove and the sacred well. No one expected her to duplicate Frigga’s sumptuous feasts, too, but Maggie hadn’t actually tried. Rather, she’d made a bold attempt at bending the Lodge to a new authority.
“Maggie wants to be the Goddess of the Hearth,” Loki said. “And Lady of the Lodge.”
Heimdall blew out a long breath and dug his fingers into Laika’s ruff. She let out a small whine.
“Sorry, girl.” Heimdall rested his hands in his lap. “I have no idea what to do. I don’t know what I can do.”
There was more Heimdall wanted to say but there were too many ears to overhear, too many pairs of eyes watching Heimdall consult with Loki in the first place.
But then came the blustering entrance of Thor balancing three boxes of roasted poultry in one arm and a broad metal keg in the other. Trailing behind him was his wife, Bonnie, laden with overflowing bags of vegetables and breads.
The promising aroma of turkey and spiced fruit almost made Loki forget about the casseroles of canned tuna and fried onions on the table.
A small man brought up the rear as he steered a dolly stacked high with boxes of cider, fruit, and smoked meats. Loki hadn’t seen the Pakistani groundskeeper since the epic battle with Managarm, though Tariq and his wife Afra sent the occasional greeting card. He looked even more fit now, and Loki wondered what he had been up to.
Teaching at the Raven Dojo, Loki remembered. Freyr was probably never coming back from his new home atop Mt. Bachelor, and Freya was helping him adjust to life as a volcano god.
“Heimdall!” Thor’s bellow echoed off the walls, as though his imposing frame wasn’t enough to get everyone’s attention. “I brought everything you asked for. And more! Let the feast begin!”
Loki watched with some sympathy as Heimdall’s shoulders slumped and storm clouds broke across Maggie’s face.
“What is this?!” Maggie pointed at Thor with one hand and clenched a kitchen towel in the other.
Thor was nearly twice Maggie’s weight, but he shrank back as she stalked toward him. He knocked over an empty dining chair, a side table, and a lamp until his back was flat against the wall. The boxed turkeys shook in his grasp.
“Did you think you needed to come prepared not to enjoy my cooking?” Maggie demanded.
“Uh, no? I just, I thought . . .” Thor scanned the room for help. Heimdall moved quickly to come to his brother’s defense, but Sally got there first.
Loki sat back, warmed by the fire, and watched.
Sally laid a hand on Maggie’s wrist. “I don’t think anyone means any insult to anyone else. You’ve set a generous table. Maybe Thor wanted to do his part, as a gesture of appreciation?”
Maggie considered Sally’s words, which was a feat in itself. Maggie openly preferred Opal to Sally and seemed to believe Frigga’s passing meant she could steer the direction of the Lodge and choose her own Rune Witch, too. Loki tried to remember a time he’d been so naive. It was an amusing exercise.
“That’s really what you think?” Maggie had softened her tone.
Thor took the opportunity to peel himself away from the wall and head into the kitchen with his turkeys and beer. Bonnie set down her grocery bags and moved to stand beside Sally. Loki smiled.
“It’s because no one thinks I can take Frigga’s place,” Maggie said without a trace of self-pity. “Because no one can accept that the world marches on, and maybe it’s a good thing when things change.”
There was a collective intake of breath. Loki waited to see who would take the bait first.
Maggie had challenged pretty much everyone in the room to dispute her claim to Frigga’s titles and offices. There was something pragmatic about the way she’d stepped forward to fill the gaps despite the household’s grief and resistance. But she hadn’t wasted any time pushing Sally out the door.
Bonnie placed a steadying hand on Maggie’s shoulder, and Maggie visibly calmed at her touch.
“This is hard for everyone.” Bonnie’s voice soothed the room. “No one is saying or thinking anything uncharitable. Like Sally said, we’re just trying to help. We don’t have to put out any new food if you don’t want to.”
Maggie offered no resistance as Bonnie pulled her into the kitchen. Loki wondered when Bonnie had gotten so good at lying.
“Like hell they’re not putting out those turkeys. I’m starving,” mumbled one of the Valkyries.
Sally glanced at Loki from across the room. She was pale and flustered and wearing plainly on her face the angry acknowledgment that he had been right—neither she nor Loki should have come to the party. Their presence was making things worse.
Saga blundered in from the main hallway. She teetered beneath a stack of sheet cakes, an equal number of pies, and at least a half-dozen fruit loaves.
“This was all they had left by the time I got to the store,” Saga announced to no one in particular. She shoved a few casseroles aside to make room on the table, and Maggie’s spam jelly hovered precariously on the edge. “If we scrape off the icing, the cakes should be okay. Maybe save all the sugary stuff and take bets on how much we can get Thor to eat before he pukes.”
Saga looked up.
Her cheerful expression evaporated when she locked eyes with the Rune Witch. “Hey, Sally.”
Saga shrugged and didn’t say anything more. But Sally rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Loki rose to his feet.
“Yes, Saga. I had the audacity to show my face here.” Sally took a step forward. “So here’s your big chance. There’s hell to pay, and I’ve got it coming, right? Tell me how I’m just rubbing it in. How I’m lording over the rest of you how superior and special I must think I am.”
This was why Sally had come to the Lodge for Winter Nights. Had she been so sullen in the corner because everyone was leaving her alone instead of having it out with her?
She’d mumbled to Loki about her few interactions with Heimdall and Thor after that terrible weekend in the woods, and how no one would admit to her face that they blamed her for Odin and Frigga. This was the first time she’d seen Saga since then, and she was an easier target. The expected onslaught hadn’t materialized, so now Sally was manufacturing one.
Saga made a motion to head toward the kitchen, but Sally had her cornered. “But you are special, Sally.” Saga’s arms hung loosely at her sides. “And we’ve all been in shock.”
“You can do better than that. I’m not even kin. I’m just a mortal. So why did it have to be me?” Sally was in Saga’s face now, her hair trembling and twisting with every angry breath.
No one else in the room breathed.
Saga blinked back tears. “They chose you for a reason. They wanted to die with you, alone. I’m not happy about it and I don’t understand it. But I’m not going to fight you, Sally.”
Saga slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and left herself open to Sally’s fury. Loki was impressed.
“But I’m not a shaman or an elder or anything!” Sally shouted. The overhead lights flared and whined.
“Careful there,” Saga said with a gentle smile.
“Careful?” Sally spat. Two of the LED bulbs popped and electricity arced in blue lines from the broken bulbs. “How can you be so freaking detached? Do you even care about what happened? You’re just standing there like this is no big deal. Those were your parents. Your own parents didn’t want you around when they breathed their last breaths.”
Tears spilled down Saga’s cheeks, but she didn’t step away. “This isn’t you, Sally. You’re not cruel.”
“No?” Sally’s voice was hoarse, and four more LEDs sizzled out as she balled her hands into fists. “Why did it have to be me? I didn’t ask for this. I’m just a witch. I’m just a kid.”
Taking his cue, Loki walked toward her. The other guests eagerly parted to let him pass.
“We’re all grieving.” Saga wiped her cheeks, touched Sally on the shoulder, and slid past her.
Loki stood behind Sally, confident she knew he was there. The mingling conversation and tentative food tasting rose up around them again. The room was dimmer thanks to Sally’s temper, but laughter floated more easily. Sally had loosened a valve for everyone else, though the set of her shoulders told Loki that she wasn’t feeling much relief.
Frigga and Odin hadn’t been Sally’s parents by blood or circumstance, but they had been her teachers, her advisors, and her protectors. The Lodge had been a second home as she made peace with her new life. That was gone now. Everything was in flux, and she didn’t know if she was welcome anymore.
“They put you in an awful position,” Loki said quietly. “And no one blames you.”
“Maybe they should.”
“You are blameless in this.” Loki rested a hand on top of her head. “You must not hold yourself responsible for forces and decisions outside your control.”
“You, on the other hand . . .” Thor plowed toward Loki. “You dare talk of blame?”
Loki had barely enough time to step away from Sally and face the thunder god before Thor punched him square in the nose.
Chaos Magic (Rune Witch 5) will be available in June 2018 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
Twilight Magic (coming summer/fall 2018)
Mars Adventure Romance Series (MARS)
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
This book sat and waited and went through endless revisions and waited some more and got picked apart and put back together over and over again over the course of several years. That madness was all thanks to dysautonomia and the chronic daily headache/migraine. So cheers to chronic illness and pain for that adventure.
However, this book and my so-called writing career would in all probability not exist without the support and patience of some really great people:
The Masked Hucksters, because truly no more exceptional writers group has ever existed. Dale Ivan Smith, Wendy Wagner, and Rebecca Stefoff, you are my tribe. You are more dear to me than my pomodoro timer and as essential as punctuation and maybe even Scrivener.
The Raven Quest beta readers: Tuffy Black, Rebecca, Mike, and Laurel Standley, some of whom valiantly read through several different versions of the manuscript over the course of about three years.
The readers who approached me at Orycon 38 to demand to know precisely when this next book would be released. I’m sorry I made you wait! But it was a delight taking friendly abuse from every one of you. And my thanks to Orycon for putting on a fantastic event year after year. I am so very lucky to have you as my home con.
The members and officers of the Northwest Independent Writers Association. Yes, I could blame some of this book’s delay on my service to NIWA, but that’s no one’s fault but my own. I continue to be inspired by our little community and how we encourage each other to reach higher.
Everyone who asked, “But what happens next?” Now you know. And yes, there are more books coming—with luck, much sooner than this last interval might suggest.
As always, Mike Volk, who reads these manuscripts much earlier than most and who remains the Rune Witch series’ biggest cheerleader.
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
Raven Magic Page 30