Shoots and Tatters

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Shoots and Tatters Page 2

by Sara C. Roethle


  Loki watched us curiously. “The Morrigan, you say?” He stroked the reddish brown stubble on his chin. “Now it all makes sense.” He paced across the sand, flicking up granules with his boots. “I was debating whether or not to come at all, then I sensed the big glowing death ball,” he gestured to me, “and had to see what it was.”

  I looked down at my round belly, wondering if he was making a pun. Did gods make puns?

  Loki turned his gaze out toward the ocean, watching it thoughtfully.

  As Mikael fully released me and Alaric sidled up next to us, I realized someone was missing. “Where’s Silver?” I whispered to Mikael.

  “Cowardly bastard,” Mikael sighed, flicking his gaze to Loki, then to the beach behind us, boasting the tell-tale footprints of Silver’s escape.

  I tried not to laugh. It probably would have come out hysterical given my anxiety at having a god who might want to kill me standing before us, but it was funny. Silver had high-tailed it when I’d summoned my banshees too. It was no surprise he’d take off in the presence of someone like Loki.

  Loki turned back to us, aiming his eyes at me. “You know, we should probably leave this place before one of the other gods senses you. There are some who would debate you should not exist.” He looked me up and down. “You’re just so shiny.”

  Crap. We were right after all. I was an anomoly, a freak of nature. I wasn’t supposed to exist and each of the gods would know it as soon as they saw me.

  “But you believe she should?” Mikael questioned.

  Loki tilted his head as he continued to observe me. “Well she’s interesting, and doesn’t immediately make me want to squash her like a bug.”

  I took a step back. Maybe I should have run while I had the chance.

  Loki crossed his arms and tapped his foot in the sand, seeming to ponder keeping me alive.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said after a moment, unfurling his arms. “Let’s get off of this desolate beach and back to civilization, have a nice meal, and we can discuss your existence over a nice glass of wine.”

  I gulped. He seemed to be speaking just to me, so it was probably my job to answer.

  I didn’t relish the idea of taking him back to civilization, but if we could convince him to be on our side . . . “Umm,” I hesitated, “Okay?”

  He clapped his hands together. “Brilliant. Now let’s be off before the other gods catch us.”

  He walked past us in the general direction of the truck.

  I glanced at Mikael, then Alaric.

  “Okay?” Alaric mouthed, clearly not pleased with my decision.

  “What else was I supposed to say?” I hissed.

  “Perhaps we should follow him,” Mikael interrupted, gesturing further down the beach to where Loki walked.

  We started forward at a brisk pace to catch up with him to show him the way, but there was no need. Following my previous footprints in the sand, he veered toward the truck concealed in the trees.

  Mikael and Alaric matched my slow pace. Even so, I was a bit breathless by the time we reached Loki to find him leaning against the silver exterior of the truck.

  “Not my first choice in vehicles,” he muttered, clearly offended by the truck.

  “I’ll drive,” Mikael offered, holding out his hand for the keys.

  “Yes,” Loki agreed, “then the death ball and I can sit in the back.”

  “I’ll sit in the back with Madeline,” Alaric stated, boldly arguing with a god.

  I held my breath. I didn’t want to sit in the back with Loki, but I also didn’t want to anger him.

  Loki simply smirked, looked Alaric up and down, then replied, “As you wish, Kitty Cat.”

  I nearly choked on my own spit at the name. It was exactly what Mikael liked to call Alaric, mockingly.

  Mikael didn’t seem to notice, however, and simply took the truck keys I’d pulled out of my pocket and unlocked the vehicle.

  I glanced at Alaric, then climbed into the back seat behind Mikael, scooting over to make room for Alaric to climb in after me.

  Loki walked around the vehicle, opened the front door, then situated himself in the passenger seat, delicately shutting the door behind him.

  As soon as Mikael started the ignition, Loki began to fiddle with the temperature and radio knobs.

  “How do you even know what a vehicle is?” I asked, unable to help my curiosity.

  Loki turned to arch a red brow at me. “I reside in an alternate plane, not Middle-earth.”

  I narrowed my gaze as I thought over his answer.

  Mikael carefully backed the truck out between the trees, snapping small branches and fir needles beneath the tires, then began driving back the way we’d come. I didn’t see what vehicle he and Silver had arrived in, but assumed Silver must have taken it when he fled.

  Loki turned back around to fiddle with the radio knobs some more, flicking through the stations before finally turning the music off altogether.

  Soon enough we were back on the highway. Alaric and Mikael were both acting like we didn’t have a god in the passenger seat. Maybe they’d both lived long enough that it wasn’t exciting, but I still couldn’t quite contain myself.

  “So you said you live in an alternate plane?” I blurted. “How exactly does that work?”

  Loki turned in his seat to look at me, while Alaric gave me a what the hell are you doing? look.

  “I’ll answer one of your questions,” Loki teased, “if you answer one of mine.”

  “No, thank you,” Alaric answered for me.

  I scowled at him, then turned back to Loki. “You ask your question first. If I don’t want to answer, then you don’t have to answer mine.”

  “Deal,” he agreed, as Alaric let out a heavy sigh.

  Still turned toward me, Loki tapped a finger against his lower lip, thinking, then asked, “Where did you come from? Were you born . . . normally?”

  My shoulders relaxed. He already knew I wasn’t normal, so answering that question wouldn’t be giving too much away, especially since I didn’t actually know the answer.

  “I always thought I was born normally,” I replied, “but now I’m not sure. I grew up in foster care, not knowing I belonged with the Vaettir. Now that I’ve found them, no one seems able to tell me who my parents are.”

  “Interesting,” he replied, his blue eyes thoughtful.

  I shrugged. “If you say so. Now, my turn.”

  “The plane I live on is more primitive than this one,” he explained, “but only because we have access to more magic. There is less need for technology,” He seemed to think for a moment, then continued, “I’m not sure how to explain alternate planes to mortals. There are many worlds you do not know about. The beings in these worlds exist in this same span of time . . . and not. Time is anything but linear. You are, in fact, existing in the same time as your ancestors, just in a marginally different plane.”

  I nodded. I’d come to accept I’d never truly understand time and different planes after traveling back to meet the Vikings, then even further back to see the World Tree where it originally stood. Perhaps I hadn’t traveled back at all. Maybe I’d gone parallel.

  “That’s interesting,” I concluded, “but I’ve changed my mind about my original question.”

  He smirked. I’d assumed he’d wave me off and say my first question still stood, but he only gestured for me to go on.

  “Okay,” I breathed, thinking my words through before I said them. “You claimed some gods would want to destroy me. I’m assuming you don’t, since I’m still alive. My question is who will want to destroy me, and why?”

  “Good question,” he encouraged, making me feel more relaxed as Mikael sped down the highway. “The who isn’t terribly relevant, and I cannot say for sure. All I can say is that your odds with any god are about fifty-fifty. As for the why, you’re a bit of an abomination. You should not exist in a world that is mostly devoid of magic. Some will stop with the reasoning right there. It is the t
ask of the gods to maintain natural balance. Threats to that balance,” he gestured toward me, “must be eliminated.”

  I bit my lip, then pressed, “But you don’t want to eliminate me?”

  He shook his head. “No, at least not yet. I’d rather like to see how this all plays out. Plus, for any who argue that you upset this balance, there will be others who say you keep it. That your energy belongs on this Earth.”

  “So half the gods won’t want to destroy her,” Alaric interrupted, “because maybe she belongs here?”

  Loki flicked his gaze to Alaric. “She regrew Yggdrasil, at least, I assume it was her. The tree now reeks of her magic. Some might presume that fact means the gods and magic should return to this plane. If we are meant to return, then perhaps she’s supposed to be here.”

  I mulled over his words, then asked, “So you want to help us because you want the gods to return to this plane?”

  He tsked at me. “Now, now, you’re not playing fair. I’ve only gotten to ask one question this entire conversation.”

  “Well, ask your next one quickly,” Mikael advised, “we’re almost home.”

  Before Loki could ask anything, Alaric interrupted, “Are we sure we want to take him home?”

  Loki rolled his eyes. “I’m housebroken, I assure you.”

  I snorted. “There are more of the Vaettir at . . . home. If we bring you there, we’ll have to reveal to everyone that one of the gods has returned. They might panic.”

  Loki turned his attention to Mikael. “That sounds tiresome. Take me somewhere nice to eat instead.”

  “Fine,” Mikael answered simply.

  He was being unusually quiet, and I wondered why. I could sense his tension, but heck, we were driving down the highway with a god in our vehicle. All three of us were tense.

  “I should at least call Sophie,” Alaric muttered.

  “And tell her the truth?” I questioned.

  He leaned to the side and pulled his cell out of his pocket. “She knows how to keep her mouth shut.” He smirked. “At least when I ask her to.”

  “So we won’t be telling anyone else?” I asked.

  Loki had turned back around to watch our conversation curiously. Alaric glanced up from his phone to him, his thumb on Sophie’s name in his contact list.

  “Is that alright with you?” Alaric asked, seemingly unable to interpret Loki’s gaze.

  Loki nodded. “Keep me a secret if you please. We can concoct an identity for me over lunch.”

  It was all well and good to make Loki a new identity, but there was still one issue. “I think some of the others might be able to sense his godly…magic,” I shared. “He doesn’t feel like one of the Vaettir.”

  There was a shift in pressure in the car, though no one moved.

  Loki asked, “There, how do I feel,” he drew out the word to make it sound dirty, “now?”

  I glared at him. He really was cut from the same cloth as Mikael. Entirely incorrigible.

  “You feel like a human,” I stated blandly. “I don’t sense unusual energy from you at all.”

  Loki pursed his lips, clearly displeased. “I’ve never had to disguise myself as one of the Vaettir before. You only exist on the timelines of this particular plane.”

  He placed his hand on my knee, then his energy shifted again.

  I turned my legs to the side, pulling them out of his reach. “I’m not even truly Vaettir. Touch one of them,” I gestured between Alaric and Mikael.

  “Fine,” he pouted, turning further to place his hand on Alaric’s knee instead.

  Alaric tensed beside me, but did not pull away.

  “Better?” Loki asked, retracting his hand.

  I focused on him, letting his energy seep into my senses, then nodded. “Better. You feel like one of the Vaettir now, although, some can tell our race through scent.” I turned my gaze to Alaric.

  He rolled his eyes. “He smells like one of us now too.”

  Loki laughed and clapped his hands together. “Marvelous. You are a perceptive lot.”

  He turned forward in his seat as Mikael entered the lunch time traffic heading toward Hillsboro.

  Alaric turned his attention back to his phone and dialed Sophie’s number. After a brief argument where Sophie was obviously irate over not knowing what was happening, even though it had only just happened, he pulled the phone away from his ear.

  “Where are we going to eat?” he asked, his attention on Mikael’s back in the front seat. “Sophie wants to meet us.”

  I rubbed my belly as it growled. “Angelo’s?” I suggested, though no one was asking me. “I think I might die if I don’t have pasta,” I paused, focusing my thoughts on food, “and a grilled cheese,” I added. “And ice cream.”

  “That sounds delightful,” Loki agreed.

  Alaric sighed, then pressed the phone back against his ear, relaying my choice to Sophie.

  I relaxed against my seat as he hung up the phone, hoping that Loki finding us was a good thing. Surely someone who seemed so laid back wouldn’t just suddenly change his mind and kill me.

  I glanced at Loki out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be preoccupied with reading the street signs as we entered the outskirts of Hillsboro. I went over everything I knew about him, wondering if we could trust him. I knew he was a trickster god, and if he shared the same energy of Dolos, he was a master manipulator and diplomat.

  The only question was, why would he want to manipulate us, and to what end?

  Twenty minutes later we’d parked the truck and were walking into Angelo’s, a quaint Italian bistro in downtown Hillsboro. Their food was always good, yet they were somehow never too busy.

  As soon as we entered the dimly-lit establishment filled with old world decor, we were seated at a large booth with a heavy wood table. Alaric immediately slid into the booth after me, leaving Mikael to sit beside Loki.

  I watched Mikael’s somber expression, looking for some sign to the why of his sour mood. He’d been trying to summon a god, after all, and he’d gotten one. I didn’t see what difference it made which god we got, as long as it was one who didn’t want to kill me.

  Our waitress, a teenager with shortly cropped blonde hair and a nose ring, came to take our orders. I didn’t miss the way she looked each of the men at the table up and down, though there was a hint of apprehension to her energy. I supposed they were quite the trio, all tall with long hair, and with Loki dressed in his fine, but dated, garb.

  I was about to order a grilled cheese with a side of spaghetti, then thought better of it and ordered mushroom ravioli and garlic bread, coffee too. Loki ordered half the menu, along with a bottle of red wine, and the other two men ordered nothing.

  We all sat in silence for several minutes as Loki peered around the establishment, his gaze lingering on the bar at the other side of the restaurant.

  “So,” Loki began, shifting his gaze to me, “let us continue this question game. I believe I’m owed at least two prompt answers at this point.”

  I stared at him, not sure if I should continue the game or not.

  Seeming to take my silence as an answer, Loki began, “You claimed to have interacted with the Morrigan in the past. Have you had any contact with Hecate, or any of the other death goddesses?”

  I glanced at Alaric, wondering if I should tell the truth.

  “I suppose it can’t hurt,” he muttered.

  I bit my lip, wishing I had a glass of water or coffee to fiddle around with, but the waitress was yet to bring them. She’d probably been too busy deciding whether she should ask one of the men for a date, or run the other way. “I haven’t had any direct contact,” I explained, “but at one point I was in contact with one of her descendants. He helped me regrow Yggdrasil, at Hecate’s behest, then disappeared soon after.”

  The waitress finally appeared at our tableside with a tray of drinks, setting down four glasses of water, one mug of coffee for me, and the open bottle of wine along with four glasses, though none o
f the rest of us intended on drinking. She gave me an odd look as she set the coffee in front of me, and I realized she’d probably caught a few words of our conversation. I just stared back at her. I’d gotten over my desire to keep up public appearances a long time ago.

  With a final confused look, the waitress departed.

  Loki poured himself a glass of wine, then asked, “So Hecate wanted you to regrow the tree, but has not ventured fully into this realm?” He took a sip of his wine, made a sour expression of distaste, then set his glass back on the table. “Perhaps she’d prefer you visit her instead.”

  “Come again?” I asked, wondering if he was truly suggesting what I thought he was suggesting.

  “I think we’ve had our fill of traveling to different realms,” Alaric interjected before Loki could answer.

  “Agreed,” Mikael muttered.

  Loki smirked. “So you’re just going to sit here and wait for the less benevolent gods to find you? Don’t you want to know why you were truly created?”

  “Of course,” I replied, fiddling with my mug of coffee. “But I don’t see how Hecate is going to help with that if you don’t even know.”

  Loki tsked at me. “Foolish girl. If Hecate knew enough about you to help you regrow Yggdrasil, then I guarantee she knows more. You share the same energy, after all. She likely knows more about you than anyone else.”

  “But Mara—” I hesitated, “I mean the Morrigan, didn’t know exactly how I came to be like this, and she and I were even closer in energy. The first time we tried to summon a goddess we got the Morrigan, not Hecate.”

  Loki rolled his eyes. “The Morrigan was practically a human woman. Hecate was never anything close to human. She’s as old as time itself.”

  “So, say we do try to find her,” Mikael cut in, “what does any of this matter to you?”

  Loki smiled. “I have my reasons, reasons I have no intention of divulging. Regardless, the fact of the matter is that I’m the only one who can show you how to use Yggdrasil to locate Hecate’s realm. You’ll simply have to trust me.”

 

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