Illusion

by C. L. Roman

  He faced her. "I saved your life, you owe me."

  "I hardly think Admiral Conroy planned to kill me." She tilted her head to the side, studying him. "Nor was it something his men planned on until you attacked them."

  "Do you have any idea what they do to prisoners suspected of terrorism in this country? Ever heard of Guantanamo Bay?" She gave him a blank look and he swore, spitting a stream of epithets into the warm apartment. "Does the word 'torture' ring a bell?" he asked in Semitic and her skin lost a shade of color.

  She swallowed. "Conroy does not seem the type to allow such things."

  "He is a military officer concerned that terrorists are attempting to steal nuclear weapons. Under those circumstances, they are all that type."

  "Even if what you say is true, I cannot leave with Cole in such a condition. I must be here to..."

  "To what? What can you do here?"

  "Nothing but —"

  "Gwyn, there's something else." He sat down next to her and she pulled further into one end of the couch. "The other night, at the banquet, Jotun said something to me —"

  "What? You spoke to him?"

  He sighed. "The man I was talking to when you interrupted us? That was Jotun, disguised. I think he was trying to get close to Conroy."

  "But you recognized him and I didn't?" Pained disbelief shadowed her expression.

  Grabbing her shoulders, he gave her a light shake. "Gwyn, focus. I would have missed it myself if it weren't for his scent." She frowned but he rushed on. "Yes, I followed him out of the banquet hall and talked to him. He seemed to know my history and he said some things that I've been trying to figure out ever since. So I did some research."

  Gwyneth pried his fingers from her shoulders and leaned away from him. "I'm sure you did."

  Sitting across from her, he leaned in, elbows on knees, hands clasped. "If I'm right, your husband's delusions have reached a critical level. If we don't help him soon, we may not be able to help him at all."

  The remaining color drained from her cheeks. "Tell me," she said.

  "From what he said, he believes he is on a mission to destroy the Earth. He called it Ragnarӧk, which is the term used in an old Norse legend about the world ending in a sea of fire."

  "Don't be ridiculous. How would he manage such a thing, even if he wanted to?"

  "I didn't want to believe it either. But then I found out that Admiral Conroy isn't just here to squire his wife around Fashion Week. He is leading secret disarmament talks with no less than five countries, two of them in the Middle East. If he can get them to agree, it will be a major coup."

  "So you said at the hospital. What does this have to do with Jotun?"

  "Conroy is leading the talks because the United States has one of the largest stockpiles of nuclear weapons in the world. If anyone got access to that kind of firepower, they could destroy the Earth in a matter of hours. My guess is Jotun is trying to get close enough to Conroy to get access to the missiles."

  Gwyneth jumped to her feet and began walking in agitated circles around the couch. "It is impossible. Jotun would not do this."

  "Maybe the Jotun you knew wouldn't, but, from what you've told me, he wouldn't abandon his wife either. Yet he has." Loki stood as she came around the end of the sofa for the third time, blocking her path and taking her hands in his. "Gwyneth, I think we both know that his illness has changed him, at least temporarily. You need to come with me and find out how to heal him. If we don't, there is a very real possibility that he will succeed in his mission, if he lives long enough."

  She jerked her hands free. "What do you mean?"

  "Do you really think Sabaoth will allow Jotun to destroy the Earth? Annihilate millions of people?"

  Tears filled her eyes and she raised shaking fingers to cover her lips.

  "He won't. He keeps such prerogatives for himself alone," Loki said. "If we don't take steps to snap Jotun out of this, Sabaoth will destroy him."

  "No," she whispered. "Ahba wouldn't..."

  Loki stuffed his hands in his pockets and backed up a step. "Wouldn't he? Isn't that how you got here in the first place?"

  She closed her eyes and sank down onto the couch. "Where do I have to go?"

  He drew a deep breath and crossed to the bar. Drawing out a wine bottle he opened it and poured two glasses. "I know someone, she used to be a healer. Smartest one I ever met." He held out a glass to her.

  "Someone? You mean a demon?"

  "Call her what you like, she won't mind." Loki shrugged. "Point is, she can't make house calls. We'll have to go to her and she doesn't live in a very nice part of town."

  Her eyes drifted from the wine glass to Loki's face and back again before she accepted it. "And where is this place?"

  He downed half his glass of wine and turned to refill it. "It's called Niflheim." The word fell cold and foreboding into the air. Gwyneth had never heard it before, but it sent a chill up her spine causing her hand to jerk. The burgundy swirled in the glass and a swallow escaped over the rim, cascading onto the white upholstery. It landed in three blood-red drops and sank indelibly into the cloth. She stared at it for a moment and then up at him.

  "I'm sorry," she said, her voice wooden. "If you have some cleaner, maybe I can get it out."

  "I doubt it. Some stains never come out."

  She stood and handed him the full glass. "If we are going to do this, it may as well be now."

  "All right." He held out his hand. "Promise me this though. While we are in there, stay with me. Getting separated could be lethal."

  She forced a smile. "For you or for me?"

  His lips flattened into a grim line and he gripped her fingers with in a crushing hold. "Both," he said, and stepped into the Shift and out again before the lights had a chance to orient on them.

  The pair emerged into a black wood, the trees leafless and stark against white snow and a midnight sky. The moon rode full and faintly green directly overhead but the stars were hiding, as if afraid to see the events below. The wood crouched around the base of a mountain and crawled up its steep sides, the trees growing more gnarled with height and age.

  She jerked her fingers free and stepped away from him. "You could give a person warning before you rip them out of the world."

  Loki looked at her. "You'll want to give me a little space. I have no intention of going in there looking like this."

  Gwyneth stepped away from him and Loki closed his eyes. His skin glowed faintly and his body stretched, broadening and lengthening until he was as tall as Jotun in his natural form. Loki's hair flowed over his shoulders in ebony strands, stirring with the cold wind of his transformation. His clothing rippled and settled into a new form — soft knee boots, a belted tunic and a cloak that brushed the forest floor.

  "Gungnir," he whispered, and a spear formed in the air next to him, trembling on the brink between visible and invisible, suddenly snapping into reality as his fist closed around the shaft. The leaf shaped blade glittered oddly, its surface engraved with runes that appeared to writhe in the moonlight.

  Gwyneth stared at him and he faced her, one eyebrow raised in sardonic question. "What?" he asked. "You didn't expect me to enter such a place unarmed, did you?" He looked the spear over and frowned. "However, I don't see the need to carry it around." He concentrated and the weapon shrank to the size of an eating knife, which he slipped into his boot.

  "No. But it occurs to me that I wouldn't mind having a weapon of my own."

  Loki pulled a dagger out of his belt and held it out to her, hilt first. "Careful, the edge is tainted." She reached for it and he pulled it back, reversing the blade and holding it beyond her reach. "On second thought, I'll hold onto it. With my luck you'll stab yourself and then where will we be?"

  She struck like a snake, slamming her fist into his bent elbow. The knife flew up and she snatched it from the air. Tipping the blade in his direction she beckoned. "Give me the sheath from your belt."

  He rubbed his jaw and frowned. "Will s
urprises never cease with you?"

  "Jotun is a weapons expert and a training officer. What did you expect?"

  "Not that he would teach his wife to fight."

  She rolled her eyes. "Are we going to stand here all night?"

  Handing her the sheath, he waited while she attached it to her belt and slid the blade home. "Careful!" he hissed. "I wasn't kidding about the poison. You cut yourself with that and you'll be dead before you can say oops."

  "I'll keep that in mind." She gestured toward the cave mouth. "Don't you think it’s time you told me who we are going to see?"

  "There is only one person besides the creator himself who might know how to heal Jotun. The trouble is, she lives very close to some very dangerous people. Her most dangerous neighbor is...I think your husband calls him Lucky?"

  Gwyneth's eyes went wide. "You cannot mean Lucif —"

  Loki clapped his hand over her mouth. "Do not say his name this close to his front door unless you want to meet him right now," he said. She nodded and he released her.

  "I did not agree to come to hell," she said. "Take me back right now Loki."

  "Just listen. We will not be seeking Lucky himself. The one I believe may be able to help us is Eir. She was a medic and trainer in Par-Adis. The only trouble is, Lucky keeps her close. His sycophants keep getting themselves injured and it seems that, since taking their leave of the creator, they have a lot of difficulty healing on their own."

  "I thought demons healed themselves by drinking human blood." Gwyneth made a face and Loki shrugged.

  "They do. Unless the wound is caused by celestial steel. Then the results tend to be a little more permanent. Hence Lucky's fascination with Eir's work in enhanced healing elixirs."

  "You mean blood magic."

  "Have it your way. Eir knows things about angelic biology and psychology that no one else knows. If we are to save Jotun, we need her help."

  "And it sounds like we'll have to go through Lucky to get to her." Gwyneth folded her arms across her chest. "I am not dealing with the devil, now or ever."

  "There is no choice." He grabbed her arm and shook her.

  Stomping her heel on his instep she twisted aside, using her momentum to drive her stiffened fingers into his throat. Loki let go and danced out of reach. He held up his hands, palms out, in surrender. "Fine," he said. "But how, exactly, do you plan to save Jotun without Eir's help?"

  "It doesn't matter," she said. "If she is Lucky's servant, she isn't going to help me, or if she does, one of them will demand a price I cannot pay. Take me home Loki."

  Pulling his cloak around him against the damp chill, he sat down on a rock. "Fine," he said. "But then you must resign yourself to widowhood. The creator banished Jotun and his companions from heaven for abstaining," he ground the word between his teeth, "from a war that he already knew he would win. You cannot expect his help in this — and there is no one else who has the knowledge you need."

  Gwyneth bit her lip. "I have nothing to pay Lucky with except myself. And if I give up my soul, Jotun will hate me, healed or not."

  "It will not come to that." Loki stood up. "If we do this right, he doesn't even have to know you're here. I can..." he trailed off as her brow crinkled. "Look, this is never going to work if you can't manage to trust me, at least a little bit. Believe me, I never do anything without a plan."

  "Very well, then what is this plan of yours?"

  A rumble sounded in the distance and Loki cast a nervous glance into the darkness. "The first step is to get you inside without him knowing you are here." He held out his hand. "Will you trust me?"

  She eyed him narrowly and shook her head. "Not even a little bit. But I don't see any other choice but to follow you." Inhaling deeply, she pushed out a whoosh of air from between pursed lips. Sliding the knife free, she turned it in the moonlight and gave him a dark look. "But if you betray me, I will gut you with your own knife."

  He grinned. "Fair enough. Shake on it?" He held out his hand and she slowly did the same. They clasped palm to wrist, but when Gwyneth would have pulled away, Loki gripped harder. "I'm sorry, my dear." Green-orange light glimmered where their skin touched. "There is no other way, and if I had asked permission, you would never have agreed."

  Frozen in place, Gwyneth watched the world around her fray into black on white patterns, the trees, grass and boulders soaring to massive heights around her while the ground rushed up, threatening to bury her. Loki shifted his grip, grasping her around the waist now. Her legs fused together. Her skin turned silver, her body flattening, sharpening, hardening.

  "What have you done?" she screamed and her voice sounded like the shrieks of a trapped mouse, furious and ineffectual.

  "I told you, he can never know you are there, or you will never escape."

  "I cannot move," she said, her minuscule voice sharp with rage. She tried without success to turn her head to look at herself. "What have you turned me in to?"

  "You shouldn't complain. You gave me the idea yourself."

  "What. Am. I?" She forced the question from between tight lips.

  He grinned like a self-satisfied little boy. "It is genius if I do say so myself. I turned you into a dagger. I am especially proud of the craftsmanship on the hilt. The detail is amazing." His eyes widened. "You're even holding my knife! It looks just like you and you keep your ability to see and communicate. That was terribly difficult, you know."

  "Oh I am certain it was. And in this form I can't run away or defend myself, knife or no."

  His lips formed a sullen line. "I'm starting to regret not fusing your lips together."

  "Not to mention I'd make a great gift for Luci —" Loki blanched and she paused. "Lucky. He can keep me on his belt as a permanent trophy, use me —" She clamped her lips closed.

  "Well, that is a concern. I guess you'll just have to keep your mouth shut and hope for the best, right?" He held her up so that they were face to miniature face and stroked the back of her head. "Meanwhile, this should make you a little more comfortable."

  She felt a tingle in her neck and was able to turn her head and move her arms. Her hand was suddenly empty. She looked down. There was the knife in its carved sheath on her hip. Her legs had melded together and flattened into a smaller version of Loki's spear tip, leaf shaped and lethally sharp on both edges. From her hips to her shoulders, she was carved jade, the lines of her green dress delineated in exquisite detail. Her skin was white jade and her hair was gold.

  She looked up at him. "Don't do this Loki."

  A fleeting spasm pinched his brows together, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if she had imagined the regret in his eyes. "I'm afraid there may be very little choice, for either of us. He is not someone you say no to and expect to survive the effort." He pulled a wooden case from some hidden pocket and opened it. The inside was lined in velvet and he laid her in its soft folds. "Now, in you go."

  "You are an evil man."

  He paused. "Evil is a matter of interpretation. But I am most definitely not a man." He stood up. "Time to go. There is something I want you to see."

  They tramped along the narrow, faded trail for several minutes until an outcropping of stone pushed the path into a scimitar shaped curve. At the apex of the curve, Loki stopped and held Gwyneth up in front of him as he faced the mountain.

  She gasped. A wicked, avaricious face stared back at her from the rock wall. It’s snout and pricked ears were carved from living stone, and the beast had sword sized fangs curling up from between his closed lips. Resting above cheeks easily twice her normal height, its eyes glowed a sick, malevolent white in the dark and she felt a chill along her surface.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "A dragon. Lucky — made them, from some species of extremely large lizard."

  "Like you made me?" Bitterness spilled from her silver lips into the air and he stiffened.

  "Similarly, yes. But I only changed your form. He changed their very nature. This one is stone, but it..." he trailed o
ff and looked back down the trail. "Someone is coming. If you value your sanity and your health, you will be quiet."

  He slipped into the deeper shadows of the surrounding forest until the foliage hid them from the newcomers. It was several moments before she heard the voices that had alerted him. It was several more before she could see what made them.

  Three hunched shapes hobbled up the path, arguing sharply in a language she did not understand. She risked a glance at Loki and he stared down at her, with his finger over his lips.

  The trio stopped in front of the dragon's snout. The one in front barked out a series of words and then waited. Nothing happened and he cuffed the nightmare on his left. The creature loosed a short burst of guttural speech and the third ghoul voiced his own words before the leader could force him to with another blow.

  The ground trembled, sending an army of small stones and terrified forest life scurrying across the mountainside. The rock face groaned and the giant jaws shuddered, grinding together as if the thing was chewing fresh meat. The snarling lips of the beast drew back to reveal a double row of sharp teeth. In a few moments its mouth had opened big enough to swallow them all down the black hole that was its throat.

  The three demons tramped into the maw, across the tongue and out of sight down the throat. The echo of their boots had not faded when Loki started moving.

  "Why did you want me to see this?" She lay face up in the open box, cradled in his hand so that she had a clear view of his face.

  He kept his gaze on the stone mouth in front of him. "So that you would understand."

  "Understand what? Why you lied to me, lured me with false promises?"

  "The promises were not all false. The answer to Jotun's illness is here and I will find it and help him. You have my word."

  "And why should I believe you?"

  He stopped just inside the mouth of the dragon and slanted her a look she could not interpret, shuttered and bleak, but determined as well. "I do not want the Earth destroyed any more than you do. It is a hateful, seething mass of backbiting, dim-witted mortals with whom I have less than nothing in common." He stared into the dark for a moment. "But it is my home, and I will not lose it to a maniac's diseased vision without a fight."