“Do you wish for me to come with you?” she asked as she put away the pain meds and poured me a cup of tea.
“I would prefer you stay and talk to the watch for us,” Ben told her, putting on a black leather fedora that matched his distressed jacket. “They will no doubt be here in the next hour.”
“What do you want me to tell them?”
“Just that we’ll be back later. We have to find where Miranda is staying, and then David will no doubt wish to locate Naomi.”
“I think you should leave her to the watch,” Imogen said, her face tight with worry as she reached out, like she was going to touch Ben’s shoulder, but stopped, casting me a sidelong glance.
Why is she acting like I’m the queen of jealousy? She has to know I’m not going to get mad if she touches you.
You are my Beloved now, in deed as well as name. Moravian women do not, as a rule, touch Dark Ones who have a Beloved.
Why?
It is a sign of disrespect.
“Imogen,” I said, interrupting Ben as he started to explain that David would not tolerate allowing the watch to mete out the justice David felt was his. “I am not jealous of your relationship with Ben. I am not a typical Beloved. If you want to pat him on the arm, or shoulder, or kiss him on the head like you always used to do, then you go right ahead and do it. We might be a couple, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be his big sister.”
“Oh, Fran!” she cried, hugging me with a strength that belied her petite size. “Thank you for accepting Benedikt! You are the best thing that could ever have happened to him. To us. I’m so happy!”
“That’s why you’re crying?” I said, laughing as I hugged her back.
“I always get weepy at this time of the month,” she answered, sniffling, then reached out to hug Ben. “I will stay here and handle the watch for you. Go and find Miranda. And you will call me if you need my help, yes? ”
We promised to do just that. The drive to the farm where Tesla lived could be a bit hairy at times, since Ben didn’t have a helmet to protect his face from the sun, although he did have leather gloves to keep his hands from being burned. But his face . . . I worried about that until Imogen bestowed on him a black silk scarf and pair of wraparound sunglasses. He wrapped the former around his lower face, slid the latter into place, and with my arms firmly around him, we headed off on his motorcycle to a farm region north of Munich.
Tesla was an elderly white horse, a Lipizzan I had saved from being turned into whatever it is people turn horses into these days—dog food, I presumed. Just how Tesla came to be with me is an odd story, and even odder is the mystery that surrounds him, a mystery I never did have time to fully investigate. But strangest of all is his relationship to Loki, one that I would never have imagined in a million years if Loki himself hadn’t explained it to me.
“Mikaela!” I greeted the woman with short black hair as she emerged from a neat little house surrounded by pastureland. She was followed by two little girls, both of whom had inherited her husband Ramon’s copper hair and quiet, studied demeanor.
“Fran! And Benedikt! What a surprise. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? What am I thinking—you must come out of the sun, Benedikt.”
“It’s been a long time since that summer when Circus of the Darned joined up with the Faire,” I said, following her back into the house, picking up the littler of the girls and giving her a kiss on the head. “So this is my namesake? ”
“Yes, that is our Fran. And this is Abigail, our older. You remember me telling you about Fran, don’t you, girls?”
It took a bit to conduct all the greetings, admiration of Mikaela’s girls, and exchanging of news, but at last Mikaela put little Fran down for a nap and ushered us out to a gently sloped pasture.
“Do you and Ramon still do the sword swallowing?” I couldn’t help but ask, noting she was apparently early on in another pregnancy.
“Ramon does sometimes, for special events, but me . . .” She patted her tummy. “My sword-swallowing and chain-saw-juggling days are over. I don’t regret the decision, though, so you needn’t look so sympathetic. We are very happy here with the horses, and we are finally starting to make some money, so all is good.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I certainly have been grateful you decided to run a horse farm, because I know Tesla is in good hands with you.”
“He’s been no trouble. He’s quite the gentleman, and has even allowed Abigail to ride him a few times. Walking only, because he is so very old, but she loves him, as you can see.”
Ahead of us was a pasture with a clutch of horses dozing in the sun. Abigail, who my mental arithmetic worked out to be almost five years in age, had clambered through the fence and was stroking the face of a dirty gray horse.
“I’m sure Tesla will be happy to see you, although Ramon will be annoyed he has missed you. He went into town to pick up feed. And oh, we have not had time to bathe Tesla so he would be clean for you!”
“That’s okay,” I said and laughed. “I don’t demand cleanliness in horses.”
Tesla seemed to remember me, although it had been many years since I had left him in Ramon and Mikaela’s capable hands. He snuffled my chest, then my hips, evidently looking for treats, blowing out a sad breath when he found nothing.
“I’m sorry, old guy. I’ll bring you something later,” I murmured in his ear, stroking the still thick-muscled curve of his neck. He looks the same, doesn’t he? He looks like he hasn’t aged at all. Just a little creakier, maybe.
He is Loki’s descendant. I suspect that gives him a bit more staying power than other horses.
True, although you know, I really do prefer not thinking about Loki going all wild and wacky and turning himself into a mare. It’s bad enough that his descendant is a horse, but to know he was once a mare who got knocked up? Just a bit too freaky for comfort.
Ben laughed. There are many things about Loki that are too freaky for comfort.
Amen to that.
I’m surprised that you’re not more ecstatic about seeing Tesla. In fact, I assumed that would be the first thing you did when you got here.
I peered at Ben over Tesla’s gently bobbing head as I scratched the base of his ears. I would have, if I wasn’t in weekly contact with Mikaela via e-mail . And she sends me lots of pictures. And sometimes videos of Tesla wandering around, or of the girls and Ramon with him. Last year, she put a Christmas wreath over his head and sent me an MP3 of the girls singing Christmas carols to him.
There is something wrong with the fact that you are more concerned about your horse than me, he said in a disgruntled tone as he walked around to stand at my side.
I licked his lower lip.
“If you can wait, Ramon should be back in another hour,” Mikaela said. “I do not like the idea of you trying to deal with Loki with just the two of you. He is the trickster.”
“We have backup coming. In fact . . .” I squinted toward the house, where a large, colorfully painted bus pulled up. “I believe they just arrived. Monkeys flinging poo, does that say what I think it says?”
“Flying Maraschino Brothers,” Ben read the psychedelic letters painted on the side of the bus, which was covered in neon-bright peace symbols, flowers, and strange, half-animal, half-people creatures.
“It’s like a bad acid trip on wheels,” I said, watching with amazement when the door to the bus opened and people poured out of it whooping and squealing and turning somersaults and backflips all the way out to us.
“It’s like a bad acid trip, period,” Ben said, his eyes wide as he took in the bright red and black costumes the people wore, some sort of odd Gypsy-belly-dancer-Cossack hybrid with voluminous trousers that were tucked into boots that ended at the knee, gold sashes around their waists, and little red bolero jackets edged in black fringe that spun and whirled as the acrobats—they couldn’t be anything but acrobats—whooped their way out to us.
I eyed three of the booted, trousered, boleroed people as the enti
re group stopped in front of us with a yell and dramatic pose.
“Goddess! We have come. And these are our friends, mummers who are here to help us.”
Chapter 19
“Eduardo Maraschino,” one of the acrobats said, with a deep bow. “These are my brothers, Herve, Manuel, and Itzik.”
As he spoke each name, the men bowed. I raised an eyebrow at the last one. He was black, and wore a yarmulke. He grinned, and said in a heavy Bronx accent, “The others were adopted.”
“Gotcha. You guys are performing in Brustwarze for the big celebrations?”
“Yes, we have three shows a day,” Eduardo said, twirling the big mustache that curled up in dramatic fashion from either side of his upper lip. “We are the acrobats most popular, and many womens crave our bodies.”
“Not as many as want our rods,” Finnvid said with an insouciant little smile.
“Aye, we won the wager,” Eirik said. “We had eight lusty wenches, and you only had five.”
Eduardo’s smile slipped a notch. “That is because Itzik was sick. If we had had him with us, he would have brought in many more womens.”
“Ahh, so that’s how you guys met Eirik and his men,” I said, nodding when Mikaela, with a long look at the acrobats, took her daughter and returned to the house. “Well, I really appreciate you bringing them up here, but I wouldn’t want you to miss any of your performances. Or attentions of the many women who apparently lust after you.”
“No, no, we have made the wager most profound with the Eirik Redblood, and we always pay our wagers—do we not, my brothers?”
Herve and Manuel mumbled something in Spanish. Itzik grinned again. “Taking out this Loki sounds like fun. Let’s have at him.”
I looked from Itzik to the other three men. “You guys know about Loki? You’re not wigged out by the idea of an ancient Norse god?”
“We know of him,” Eduardo said with a little head toss. “We had dealings with his son, Nori, a few years ago.”
“It will be a pleasure taking care of him,” Itzik added as he cracked his knuckles.
What do you think? I asked Ben.
He gave a mental head shake. I don’t suppose they will provide any assistance against Loki, but they can’t hurt, either.
Loki can be unpleasant, though. And I hate to involve innocent people in something that could be dangerous to them. I think we should do this with just the five of us.
It is your decision, Beloved.
It took some doing to convince the acrobats that Loki posed too much of a threat for them to remain, but once Ben pointed out that they wouldn’t be able to perform—acrobatically or sexually—if Loki injured them, they gracefully withdrew, waving farewell and wishing us luck.
“What odd sorts of people you know,” I told the Vikings as the eye-popping bus drove off.
“Odd how?” Eirik asked, genuinely puzzled.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s get going.”
Ben led Tesla over to a section of the pasture where we would be alone.
You’ll watch over him while I do this?
No. I’ll watch over you.
I let him feel just how much that irritated me. I want him protected from Loki. I love Tesla!
Not as much as I love you.
Irritation vanished in an instant, its place taken by the warm glow of Ben’s love. That is not playing fair at all.
Perhaps not, but it’s the truth. Tesla will be fine, Francesca, so long as you are safe.
He had a point, drat him. “Everyone ready? Good. Here we go.”
Ben stood beside me, not touching me, but the tense air about him, and the watchful look around his eyes, told me he was ready to spring into action should the need arise. Behind us stood the three Vikings, their weapons in hand.
I placed one hand on Tesla’s neck, the warm solid-ness of him giving me a measure of comfort, while Ben’s presence provided me with confidence. “Fire burns thee, earth feeds thee, air hides thee, Vikingahärta holds thee. Deceiver, slayer, trickster, bet—”
I didn’t even get the last word out before Loki was suddenly there, in front of us.
“Loki Laufeyiarson!”
The tall, thin man with fading red hair turned astonished brown eyes on me as I spoke. The astonishment quickly turned into calculation as his gaze flickered to Tesla.
“I bind you to the honor of the Vikingahärta, which you yourself created.”
“You!” he said in a manner that made me think of a cat hissing. “Why do you torment me so?”
“I am tormenting you?” I gawked at him in an outraged sort of way that he totally missed.
“You taunt me with the presence of my own descendant! That is a torment which I cannot tolerate! Begone, Beloved!”
His image started to fade. Ben! What do I do? He’s leaving!
You have the power to summon him, Francesca. You have the power to keep him here. Use the valknut.
I clutched the Vikingahärta in a hand that was still slightly numb and pulled hard on its power, willing Loki to remain.
“You think you have power over me, little human?” he said, laughing, but an indescribable look crept over his face as he stopped fading. He looked like he was standing in a dense patch of fog, his figure kind of wispy and indistinct, but after a few seconds of that he solidified again and marched toward me, his jaw tense and his hands fisted. “The Vikingahärta has the power to summon me, not keep me. What have you done to it?”
I held it up. “I did nothing to it. But it got zapped by an Agrippan and the triangles shifted.”
He stared at it for a moment, then turned a haughty scorn-filled gaze upon me. “I begin to regret my leniency on you earlier. Very well, since you have summoned me, what sacrifices have you made in my name?”
“Er . . .” I tried to think of what I had with me at the moment—other than the Vikingahärta and Tesla—that Loki might be willing to accept as a sacrifice. “I didn’t know I was supposed to bring one. That is, I know we’ve used them in the past, but I wasn’t aware they were mandatory.”
“No sacrifices?” His red eyebrows rose.
“Don’t have any on me at the moment, no.”
“No boons meant to sweeten my favor?”
“Er . . . sorry.”
“No gifts to honor me as the greatest of all the Aesir?” His hair stood on end as he spoke.
Tesla suddenly flicked his head up and snorted at him.
“I’m afraid I don’t have—”
“We have the sacrifices, goddess!”
Loki sniffed in an irritated manner, his jaw set pugnaciously as Eirik stepped forward, pulling out of his voluminous shirt a purple plastic object. “O father of lies, O bale-smith, O Loki the sly, in the name of the goddess Fran, the goddess Freya, and Odin All-Father, we bring to you these highly valuable sacrifices, which we gladly make in your name that you might bestow your favor upon us.” Eirik lovingly caressed the purple vibrator, then laid it at Loki’s feet, bowing three times as he backed up to where the other Vikings stood.
Oh dear goddess. Not the sex toy! Loki is going to go ballistic!
Loki spared it a brief glance. “Have one. What else have you brought me?”
He has one? I asked Ben, astonished.
I really think it’s best you don’t ask.
Agreed. But still . . . Loki has girl toys? Who’d have thought?
You are speaking of a man who was a pregnant mare at one point in his life.
Point taken.
“I bring unto you captured images of many large-breasted women,” Isleif said, presenting the magazine.
“Bah,” Loki said, looking down his long narrow nose at Isleif. “I have many such magazines.”
“This one has twin double-D cups in the centerfold,” Isleif pointed out.
Loki’s lips pursed as he took the magazine. “I accept this gift. What else have you brought me?”
Okay, that’s it. I’m just going to stop being surprised by anything he says from her
e on out.
Ben laughed in my head.
“We have the chocolate most fine, hewn by many peasants in the Toblerone province,” Finnvid said as he offered up the now yard-high stick of chocolate.
Loki looked at it, then at Finnvid. “Someone has eaten half of my chocolate sacrifice.”
“Turks,” Finnvid said without batting so much as one single eyelash. “Turks tried to take your fine sacrifice, many Turks, clad in the finest steel, riding elephants, and with legions of bowmen, but we slayed them and retrieved your sacrifice before they could completely consume it.”
“Turks love chocolate,” Loki said darkly, taking the giant candy bar. “All right, I accept your offerings. Since it is clearly your wish to humiliate me before my descendant, you will tell me now what it is that you desire of me.”
“I’m not humiliating you before Tesla!” I objected. “He’s not even awake! He’s dozing!”
We all looked at the horse. It was true his eyes were half open, but he had that dreamy look that told me he was enjoying a little horsey nap.
“It is true that my descendant looks well,” Loki admitted. “But I expected nothing else when I arranged for him to be taken into the care of a high priestess of Ashtar.”
“Mikaela?” I asked. “You arranged for it? I don’t think so. I had her and Ramon take Tesla when they decided to leave Circus of the Darned to become farmers.”
“Who do you think urged them to do so?” Loki asked with a self-satisfied smirk. “I did not trust you, a mere child, to see to the welfare of my descendant. But a priestess of the Asatru is a different matter. Tesla is well. I am content to have him remain here.”
“Good, because that’s what I arranged,” I snapped, then remembered that it wasn’t good to lose one’s temper with a god. “We’ve gotten off track. You asked what I want of you, and I’ll tell you—I want my mother back, so you can just stop seducing her now.” I straightened my shoulders in an attempt to look like the sort of person who routinely summoned gods to do her bidding. “And don’t tell me you haven’t done so, because I know for a fact you’ve been stirring up all sorts of trouble, like trying to kidnap me, but getting my roommate, Geoff, instead.”
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