Arvid thought for a moment, then shrugged. “By their eyes,” she said then. “But I don’t know why. Your eyes were quite different, but I recognized you anyway.”
“The eyes are a window to the soul,” said Loke. “It is not the eyes you see. You only look into them. It is what lies behind them that is important.”
“You mean… it’s the soul you see?”
“In a way. To recognize individuals by their soul is a gift all shapeshifters are born with, and you have the good fortune to possess this gift, too. Thanks to this gift, I could see that a part of your soul is like mine—a little bit at least.”
“Is that why you help me?” said Arvid. “Aeldjarn said that you don’t help anyone out of sympathy. He warned me about you.”
“Everyone you ask about me will warn you,” Loke said. “You really shouldn’t trust me. I’m a murderer and a traitor with scarily great power. I bring death and chaos and unscrupulously deceive everyone, if that helps my plans.” He gave her a quizzical look. “Is there more to say?”
Arvid looked at him coldly. “You’re a liar,” she said then.
“That’s right, I almost forgot.”
“I guess my advantage is that you want something from me,” Arvid said. “What kind of favor do you expect from me?”
“I have a plan. For its implementation I need someone who has a certain gift. By now you should know which one. It is a very rare gift.”
“Time bending,” suspected Arvid.
Loke nodded.
“If I’m not mistaken, you have this gift yourself,” Arvid said. “What do you need my help for then?”
“You are right,” said Loke. “But even I can’t be in two places at once. I can’t explain it in detail, but I need someone with the same gifts as me. A white mage who is able to bend time.”
“And this plan,” Arvid said suspiciously, “will it have the consequence that people get hurt?”
“Probably not,” Loke said lightly. “At least, that is not planned.”
Arvid wasn’t sure whether she liked that answer. Loke had something about him that she couldn’t express in words, but instinctively made her believe that he could be dangerous indeed. Perhaps this feeling had to do with the gift that Loke had mentioned. When their eyes met, she was able to catch a whiff of his soul. It was just an impression, a feeling, something that she felt but couldn’t see. She was unsure whether it was good.
“How do you know that you can trust me?” she asked finally. “I’m not as clueless as I was half a year ago. I could deceive you.”
“Oh, you will not, however,” said Loke. “Without my help, you’ll be stuck in the shadow world forever. To deceive me would mean to gamble away your only chance.”
Arvid stared at him in disbelief. “So you know a way,” she said. “It’s still possible to travel to the Light World.”
“Yes, it is,” Loke said. “And I’ll help you—once you have helped me.”
“And you’re sure that it will work?” A tingling excitement had taken hold of her at once.
“Of course I am,” Loke replied testily. “I know a lot more about the world transitions than you might think. Three times I was stranded in your world, just like you are in mine right now. I can’t say I was overly impressed.”
“That’s why you speak my language,” realized Arvid.
“Yes,” Loke said, grimacing, “and you almost made sure that I was stuck in that disgustingly bright and far too warm place a fourth time.”
“What, me?” Arvid asked blankly. “What do I have to do with all this?”
“You destroyed my portal,” Loke said. He glared angrily. “With a ball of paper. But I guess you have already paid the price for your brazenness.”
It took a moment before Arvid understood. Just before she came into the Shadow World, she had found something in her pocket and thrown it into the strange flickering that would prove to be a world transition. And that could only mean…
“You were the woman who warned me!”
“Indeed. Fortunately, I managed to get through the transition with you. It would have taken me months, perhaps years, to find and reach a new one in time.”
“The man at the river,” Arvid excitedly continued, “That was you, too!”
“It was,” Loke confirmed coolly. “You should probably thank me.”
“You should probably apologize! You insulted me and purposely frightened me even more.”
“You deserved to be insulted!” Loke flared up. “You were lucky that I was in a good mood, otherwise I might have killed you. I can’t say that I have a lot of patience for small humans who stand in the way.”
Arvid was speechless. His words sounded like a bad joke, but the way he looked at her made her doubt that. “You’re crazy,” she blurted out.
“That’s quite possible. But we deviate from the topic and it’s getting late. I’m here for a reason.” He opened a small leather case on his belt and pulled an envelope out of it, which he handed to Arvid. “There is a being that is called the Oracle of the North. Odin is the only one who is able to consult it, but he only does so in urgent cases, since his body falls into a deep sleep when he does. Nearly two hundred years ago the oracle sent Asgard a warning. It predicted that one day a woman from another world will appear, a woman with a dark soul and the power of a god. The oracle prophesied that this woman will play a decisive role in the conflict between us and the demons. In what way she didn’t say, but Odin is convinced that her actions will trigger a huge disaster.”
Arvid frowned. “Why?”
“There are other prophecies,” said Loke. “Some are known only to Odin. He is headstrong, arrogant and stubborn. If he decides not to divulge anything, nothing and no one can change his mind. Something makes him believe that this woman is our ruin—or at least his.”
“I understand. And then what?”
“The gods are afraid. Especially Odin. Any woman who gets here from another world is a potential threat.”
“What?” Arvid said incredulously. “Does Odin think I’m this woman?”
“He fears it.”
“Nonsense!” Arvid said vigorously. “I’m just a simple woman. I just want to leave this world as soon as possible.”
“Like I said, Odin is very stubborn. He doesn’t want to take any chances, and I can’t convince him. That’s why you were originally sent to Horalf’s farm. They wanted you… let’s say… out of the way. But of course, without putting the gods in a bad light.” Loke snorted. “Odin wastes a ridiculous amount of energy on preserving his and Asgard’s reputation.”
“So he knew… he knew what’s going on on Horalf’s farm?”
“It was known to the Council. The farm has been chosen carefully. Many of Horalf’s servants have disappeared over the years. It was thought that life there would break your will. A precautionary measure, if time should reveal that you are, in fact, the woman of the prophecy.”
Arvid stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. She thought of the terrible weeks she had to endure on Horalf’s farm, and for a moment she didn’t know whether to be shocked or just angry.
“I… I don’t believe this,” finally burst out of her. “Because of such nonsense… because of a fairytale… something that an oracle once foretold… that’s why I was sent to this farm?” Her heart was pounding. She thought of what Gyda and Hagen had to endure there, and the thought almost made her sick. “If it was up to the Council, I would have had to spend years under the roof of a tyrant and a rapist, and all this because… because of a prophecy?”
“Well, I guess you’ve elegantly solved this problem. Neither the Council nor the two farmers had expected such behavior from you—quite obviously.”
“They crossed the line,” Arvid said harshly. “I may be just a simple woman, but I w
ill not let people pick on me without defending myself!”
“You’re right,” said Loke. “They deserved to die.”
Arvid felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her head. “They… they’re dead?” she asked, horrified.
Loke rolled his eyes. “You honestly think anyone would survive such a large amount of rustnettle? Half of it would have sufficed.”
“My god,” whispered Arvid. “I… I didn’t want that.”
“Oh, please,” Loke said scornfully. “They were ordinary people, the worst kind. Measly worms that take delight in the misery of the even weaker, believing they have power. Putting them away was one of the few things that you have done right.”
Arvid had no words. She had placed her hand over her mouth and looked incredulously at Loke, who seemed unimpressed and was obviously serious about what he just said. Her heart felt like it was squeezed by an iron fist. Yes, she had been angry, demoralized, exhausted, tired and deeply shocked about what Egil had been doing to Gyda. She had wished him many things, but not death.
“You can’t be serious,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “They were people, not insects. I am also a human being!”
Loke sighed deeply. “I see you still have this exaggerated respect for human life, which is so celebrated in your world. You must learn to accept that you stand above them.”
“I’m not above them!” shouted Arvid. She wanted to get up, but Loke quickly grabbed her wrist.
“Sit down and calm down,” he said sharply, looking at her intently. “We don’t have time for this nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” cried Arvid and felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I killed them!”
“My goodness, so what?” he hissed. “These men have been dead for months. Shedding tears won’t help them, and it most definitely won’t help us!”
Arvid looked at Loke, stunned. In his eyes there was something dark, icy, something that might have scared her, had it not been so familiar the same time. She didn’t know what to think or feel. She was overwhelmed by the horrible idea that she had wiped out two lives, deliberately and in full awareness. The fact that she had not known about it until now didn’t make it any better, even if Loke tried to tell her that she had had the right to kill these men.
“How about this,” Loke went on, “you pull yourself together and listen to what I have to say. After that you can get hysterical, run around and shed pointless tears as long as you want. That sounds fair, right?”
Arvid frantically forced herself to breathe deeply. A numbing helplessness spread inside her, but she was so upset and confused that she didn’t utter a word. Just what had she gotten into? Loke was completely out of his mind.
“The incident wasn’t your fault,” Loke said. He sounded almost soothing. “Asgard’s Council sent you to this place, quite deliberately. They thought it would break you, but you were stronger. One should never feel guilty for his own strength—never.”
“The Council,” Arvid said in a trembling voice. “This cursed Council!” She clenched her fingers around the envelope in her hand, trying to continue to breathe calmly.
“I too am a member of the Council,” Loke said, “but my vote alone doesn’t count much. It’s still Odin who has the final word. It is fear that drives him. He believes in this prophecy.”
Arvid didn’t know what to say to that. She felt the rough paper in her hand, and for the first time in a long while this comforting and immensely alluring feeling of darkness inside her. It concealed the pain and the horror about what she had just learned, leaving an almost soothing cold and emptiness.
“What is in this envelope?” she said flatly.
“A map,” Loke said.
Arvid opened the envelope with cold, trembling hands and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
“Since our meeting in the town hall, I’ve been trying to convince the Council that there’s no way you’re the woman of the prophecy,” Loke continued. “Unfortunately, with little success. Noldir has raised the assumption you could have the gift of time bending. Master Coth has also reported that your magical skills don’t develop normally. All of this matches the prophecy of the oracle.”
“So Odin really thinks I am that woman.” Arvid had unfolded the paper and looked blankly at the hand-drawn map, without perceiving what was on it. “And what will happen now?”
“I don’t know yet,” Loke said. “Odin has not yet reached a decision. I was hoping that he would wait and see, but the last few weeks he’s seemed unsettled. I suspect that he will consult the oracle again to obtain clarification.”
“About what?”
“Your identity. But the oracle never makes clearly understandable statements. I know Odin. It’s not his way to make quick decisions, so it will probably take months before he acts. Nevertheless, I don’t wish to risk too much.”
He pointed to a spot on the map. “This shows our current position,” he said, then drew a line up to another point. “This is Asgard, just to the north. And over here,” he tapped his finger on an empty spot to the right of it, “is my house. I need you to remember the location. I have no interest in anyone knowing my whereabouts.”
Arvid nodded weakly. “Why do you show it to me?”
“So that you can find me in case of an emergency,” Loke said. He took the envelope and the map from her fingers. “In an emergency,” he repeated stressed. “By that I mean, in case of an unexpected event, if your life should be in danger.” He put the map back in the envelope, handed it to Arvid and rose. “I’ll come back when the time is right,” he said, holding out his hand. “Until then, you stay here and learn as much about this world as you can. My plan is still as immature as your powers.”
Arvid grabbed his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Got it,” she said flatly.
On the way back Arvid was so cold that she couldn’t prevent her teeth from chattering. She walked shakily and stiffly beside Loke, who was apparently left untouched by the cold, and racked her brain about everything that he had told her. When they finally arrived back at the main entrance and Loke paused, Arvid felt as if she were waking from a long, dark dream.
“I should warn you,” Loke said.
As Arvid looked up at him, she winced. He had changed his appearance and again looked the same as when they first met in the town hall.
“People know me in this form,” he continued. “Better stay away from me when we’re back in the hall.”
Already in the corridor the bystander’s glances followed them, but after the grueling events of the last few hours Arvid felt as if she was wrapped in cotton wool. It was hot and stuffy in the hall, the air filled with smoke and the smell of beer and cold food. There was a wild tangle of voices, penetrated by music that was quieter than a few hours earlier.
At first no one seemed to notice them as they entered the hall, but that changed with every step. Heads turned to Loke, talk abruptly fell silent, people nudged each other with their elbows and whispered things. When they were at the height of the dance floor, Borgarr also discovered Loke. His face turned into a mask of pure anger.
“Excuse me,” sighed Loke.
Arvid automatically slowed her steps and looked after Loke, who was heading at the table at the end of the hall. Borgarr had jumped up from his chair. The other gods and masters turned around, some surprised, others angry.
Arvid forced herself to look away. At a table in the back, she discovered Gerdur, who was watching her in worry. Opposite him sat Nod. He stared at her blankly as she approached. Neither said a word as Arvid poured a cup of water, emptied it in one gulp, and immediately went over to fill it again. She sat close enough to the table of honor to vaguely overhear what was going on. From the bits she could understand, she snapped up that Loke’s long absence was seen as an insult. He seemed little impressed by the
indignant voices and angrily flashing eyes though.
“If you don’t believe me that I was here the whole time, that’s quite frankly your own problem,” she heard him say. Borgarr replied in a low voice, so that Arvid couldn’t understand the words, but his bald head was almost as red as his beard.
“What business do you have with Loke?” Gerdur asked suddenly, tearing Arvid from her observations.
“Business?” Arvid asked, frowning. “We were just talking.”
Gerdur looked at her calmly, but his whole posture was stiff and resistant. “Just like that? About what?”
Arvid looked at Nod, who was looking at them directly but still showed no emotion. “All kinds of things,” she replied. “I think that’s my own affair.”
“I guess it is,” he said. “Just what would Loke, a god with no hint of respect for people without any extraordinary talents, discuss with a simple student like you?”
His open distrust made Arvid angry, but she forced herself to reply calmly. “I don’t know,” she said, “but that’s just the way it is. Is this a problem for you?”
“Do you have any idea who Loke is?” Gerdur asked insistently.
“Of course I know who he is!”
Gerdur sighed deeply and nervously ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Arvid, but I don’t think you know,” he said. “You might believe you know, but if you knew the truth, you would never have exchanged a single word with him.”
Arvid’s eyes narrowed. “Well, the truth then,” she said. “What is the truth?”
“He’s a monster,” said Gerdur heatedly. “Sometimes he helps us, because he has obligations towards Asgard, but he is ruthless and cruel. He couldn’t care less about the life of an individual, and if he can save thirty people by killing ten others, he does so without hesitation. Do you know how many lives he has on his conscience?”
Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) Page 20