by C. Gockel
“I still can’t believe you found it so quickly,” Larson murmurs. “It seems impossible …”
Bohdi’s eyebrows jump at the word impossible. “Let him off the hook; there was magic involved, wasn’t there, Captain?”
Steve hears the clink of silverware as the remaining Frost Giants finish their meals. His mother’s voice echoes in his mind, Choose your battles. He takes a deep breath. “Alright, magic was involved.” His magic, or Bohdi’s, or both, Steve’s not sure. “I’ll let you out of the bet, Larson.”
“Good,” says Amy, sitting back down.
Larson says nothing.
“We better get to work,” says Berry, standing up.
The two remaining Frost Giants shout from their table. “Don’t work too long, humans! There will be another feast, and you make our feasts exciting.”
Steve unconsciously surveys the ceiling, still sagging from the loss of load-bearing branches the night before.
“Sounds like fun, we’ll be there!” says Bohdi with a cheeky grin and a wave. The Frost Giantess at the table blows Bohdi a kiss. Grinning, Bohdi spins around as though it’s knocked him over, which makes all the Frost Giants laugh. Lewis’s face goes blank, and Steve sighs at the prospect of more drama and mayhem. Did he think he could channel Chaos? The best he can do is hold on.
Chapter 16
Amy and Beatrice are the only ones in the room the team shares. “Where did you get these dresses, Grandma?” Amy says, gazing down at the Frost Giant gown she’s now wearing.
“Oh, you know, around,” says Beatrice. She’s wearing a baby blue dress herself, but Amy notes it’s more modest than hers. Amy’s is soft pink, it’s cinched at the waist, has a gold-embroidered girdle, and a low-dipping bodice that laces up the front. She’s got coordinating red leather boots that are lined with wonderfully soft fur.
Amy peers around the team’s laundry, hung up on wires strung from the walls. “I wonder where everyone else is?” By everyone, she means Bohdi. Part of the team had spent the day building a shelter over the fox-size hole beneath a tree that she’s positive is the entrance to Gullveig’s cavern, but Bohdi had gone off on some secret mission that involved him hanging out with Frost Giants and Thor and drinking.
“Still taking a bath, I’m sure,” says Beatrice.
Amy straightens her skirts. Her own bath, or rather, dunk in water, had been much warmer tonight. Today she’d helped Harding create an improvised wood burning stove with old pipes. The tiny Marine is very mechanically inclined; she spent the day telling Amy about growing up with her grandparents and working with her grandfather on old cars, lawnmowers, and all sorts of small engines they’d pick up at local junk yards.
Holding up Amy’s parka, Beatrice says, “Here, put this on.” Amy holds up her arms, but Beatrice merely drapes it over her shoulders. Amy blinks. Beatrice seems rushed. “Let’s go now,” says Beatrice. “We’ll meet everyone else there.”
From above comes a cheep. It’s Mr. Squeakers, in a cozy little cocoon of silk on the ceiling. “He can stay here,” says Beatrice.
“Um … okay?” says Amy, wondering what’s taking everyone else so long.
Grabbing her arm, Beatrice practically drags Amy through the clotheslines to the door … but at that exact moment it opens and Nari steps in. “Oh, Nari! There you are, and you look fine!” Amy tries not to look at him, but can’t quite manage it. He’s wearing Frost Giant attire, too, brown leather trousers that look good rather than cheesy, and a dark blue leather coat with creamy fur edging. As usual, his scabbard hangs at his side.
“As do you, ladies,” says Nari, giving a bow.
“Yes, doesn’t Amy look lovely?” says Beatrice.
“I’m glad the garments fit you so well,” says Nari. “I had to guess at your measurements.”
Amy blinks, but Beatrice smiles, eyes twinkling. “Oh, yes, you have a good eye.”
Nari chuckles. “In a few hundred years you learn a few things.”
Smiling too brightly, Beatrice pats his hand. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Oh, no trouble at all,” says Nari, “I called in a favor with Magi and Modi.”
“Mmmm,” Beatrice says, nodding her head. “Shall we go?”
Amy would rather wait, but Nari says, “Certainly,” and Amy finds herself dragged out of the door.
They step out between Gerðr and Cruz on guard duty. Cruz nods at them, lifting his rifle a little as he does. As his shoulder’s rise a ripping sound comes from his parka. His face gets red, and he looks behind his back. “Ah, I ripped it …”
“I’ll fix it,” Amy says, taking pity on the big guy. They’ve all had to repair their clothes from time to time, and his big meaty fingers are painful to watch with a needle and thread.
“No, no, no,” says Beatrice. “I’ll take care of it. You go along.” With that Beatrice gives her a shove that propels her a few steps down the road. Amy blinks up at Nari, her cheeks getting red. She looks back at the shanty-hut, and back to him.
“Shall we?” he says. It feels awkward to say no, so she keeps going, but she feels her cheeks getting redder and redder with every step.
They turn the corner where the alleyway they reside on intersects the walkway to the dining hall.
“What’s troubling you?” Nari says.
Amy winces. “I think my grandmother might be trying to play matchmaker.” She looks down at her dress. Wait, is Nari in on it?
At that moment Rush walks by; he’s covered in grime, probably from playing among the pipes underneath the Keep all day. Nari looks down his nose at Rush, and Rush narrows his eyes at Nari … and for a moment Amy doesn’t exist.
And then Rush is gone, and Nari turns his attention back to her. As if guessing her former thoughts, he says, “I had no idea of her plans; my brother merely suggested the greatest revolutionary of our time and her grandmother should have some proper clothes, and I facilitated.” He winks at Amy. “Although I think Valli expected me to get you armor.”
That actually makes Amy feel marginally better. She lets out a breath of relief.
“But I’m flattered,” says Nari, “and not opposed to the idea.”
Amy’s mouth falls open, but no words come out. What? Wait? Why?
His blue eyes search hers. His slightly red hair has grown longer, and a few stray bangs have fallen forward. He looks so much like Loki, but his lips are fuller, his jaw is stronger. He is really pretty … but maybe being with Loki has given her some resistance to pretty near immortals.
“You were insulting me, just a few days ago,” she says, remembering some of his flippant comments about her and his father.
Even in the dim light of the torches, Amy can see his face visibly darken. “Well, that was before I realized you were on our side.” He reaches toward her and touches her forehead. “There’s something about you …”
Amy takes a step back, the gerbil in her brain hopping off its wheel. Of course, it wasn’t her he was ’not opposed to;’ it’s what he thinks she could possibly bring to the cause. And she supposes, with Loki’s memories lodged in her noggin, she could probably help a lot. She’s seen a world without Nari, where democracy was dead. It wasn’t a nice place, but, “I’m not on your side, Nari.”
“What?” says Nari.
She’s saved from having to explain by the sound of Frost Giant jeers. She turns and sees a small figure slipping in the snow down the street—it’s the tiny dwarf lady from the first day. She’s running between the Frost Giants, carrying a dim pink orb, eyes glowing nearly the same color. When she sees Amy, her wide eyes go wider still. In English she says, “Dr. Lewis, Dr. Lewis, please will you help me?”
Catching the small woman as she slips to a stop, Amy takes in her frantic expression. “Please, take a deep breath,” Amy says, “and then tell me what’s wrong.”
“My sister-in-law,” the dwarf says, “she is … it is bad … I don’t know what to do.”
Amy feels a cold breeze sweeping from
the direction of the mountains. “I’m not that kind of doctor.”
“Please,” says the tiny woman, “I have no one else to turn to. It’s whispered around the Keep that you made humans magical—you can do anything, I know it.”
Amy doesn’t know it, and she wonders how that rumor got to spreading—probably with the help of alcohol. She gulps—she knows what her answer to the dwarf will be. “I’ll help you any way I can,” she says.
“We must go to my inn right away,” says the dwarf.
Nari puts a hand on her shoulder. “Dr. Lewis, this is a bad business. You don’t want to be involved in this. It will be very unpopular with the locals.”
Amy looks up at him. This is why, even if she didn’t have an unfortunate crush on a commitment-phobic human, she can’t be with him—he’s a coward.
“Please, Doctor,” the dwarf says, dropping a hand on her arm. “We must hurry.”
Amy doesn’t bother to ask for what—she only has one set of tools anyway. She just nods, slipping her radio headset over her ear and her parka on properly. “I need to get my gear first. Wait here,” she says, realizing even she can outrun the tiny woman.
Sprinting back to the shelter, Amy nods at the guards—Cruz is now in only a sweater. She slips inside, and sees Beatrice still sewing up Cruz’s coat.
“Amy, what are you doing here?” her grandmother asks.
“Helping someone,” Amy says, skin heating and not meeting Beatrice’s eyes. She grabs the med kit, lugs it onto her back, and then spins to the door. She’s out in the cold a moment later, running between the guards, Beatrice’s voice echoing behind her. Amy rounds the corner and finds the dwarf woman waiting alone. The woman takes her arm, and they run down the street, the light of the pink orb just barely lighting the way.
The inn is just coming into view when Amy begins to feel trepidation. She touches her headpiece, just to give her grandmother and the team an update … and realizes that her headset is completely dead. She’s not wearing the boots with the chargers in the soles. either. For a moment she slows.
“Doctor?’ says the dwarf.
Amy shakes herself. Nari will tell the team where she is. Quickening her steps, she sees the shadows of Frost Giants beyond the pink orb’s glow. They look angry. “Nothing,” says Amy. “Take me to your sister-in-law.” But the angry faces of the Frost Giants stay in her mind.
x x x x
Entering the dining hall, Bohdi rubs a hand through his wet hair. He goes directly over to Steve and whispers in his ear, “Confirmed indirectly with Thor, Heiðr, and several other Frost Giants … western mountains impassable until spring.” They’re stuck here until then. Bohdi spins his lighter in his hand. If Odin hasn’t figured out how magic is transmitted, that might not be so bad. As long as Odin focuses on the team, he may not be focused on what’s happening to other carriers … but if he focuses on Brett, Bryant and Dale ... Bohdi flicks his lighter in agitation.
As if reading his thoughts, Steve says, “There’s nothing you can do about it. Sit down and eat.” He pats Bohdi on the shoulder. “Hey, we’re going to start digging out those toilets tomorrow.” Bohdi blinks at the code for Gullveig’s cavern. Steve gives Bohdi a smile. “Something to look forward to.”
Gullveig’s mirror ... Taking a deep breath, Bohdi nods and slips onto the bench. Stabbing a drumstick of some kind with a fork, he looks around for Amy, but he doesn’t see her. About twenty minutes later, he’s finished up three such drumsticks, something called moss bread, and some mashed tubers—and Amy still hasn’t arrived. He raps his lighter on the table and scans the room. Behind him he hears Larson say, “I just don’t see you and Loki together,” and then Sigyn says, “He was a good husband. He treated me as his equal, and by the standards of Asgard, he was even faithful.”
Thor grumbles, “By the time of your marriage, he’d dallied with all the women of Asgard. He was done.”
“True,” Bohdi hears Sigyn say, but he doesn’t look in her direction. Food and drink are being passed around the tables, and the floor is vibrating with the noise of conversations in Asgardian, Jotunn, and English. Still no Amy, Nari, Valli, or Beatrice.
Behind him, he hears one of the team say, “Thor, I still don’t get it, why does Odin want Loki? I mean, besides to wring his neck?”
Someone else says, “We would like to wring his neck, after Chicago.”
Thor’s voice is a low rumble. “It is not Loki he seeks, it is his most recent incarnation. But why do you hate Loki? He saved the Nine Realms.”
Someone snorts.
Thor’s voice becomes more heated. “Loki is not the enemy of humankind. Your own myths give Coder, an older incarnation of Loki, credit for creating the human race alongside Hoenir and my father. Hoenir gave humans flesh, Odin gave them reason, and Loki gave them fire.”
Bohdi looks down at his lighter.
“Like Prometheus, the Titan?” Steve asks, and Sigyn says, “They think that fire is actually a metaphor for feelings and passion, but the myths are vague.”
Bohdi shakes his head and looks over the crowd again. He taps the radio in his ear and thinks about calling Amy, but then he sees Rush leisurely walking over to the table.
“Hey, Rush,” says Bohdi, as the man gets closer, “have you seen Amy?”
“Nah,” he says.
Bohdi puts his hand beneath his nose just before he sneezes.
Looking out at the room, Rush says, “But why settle for the brown bag lunch you brought when you’ve got a whole smorgasbord here?”
“You’re lying,” Bohdi says, his lip curling. “Where is she?”
Rush winces. “Look man, I just didn’t want you to get upset. She’s with Nari. Just forget about it. Look at those girls over there—they’re smiling at us.”
Bohdi’s brain reels for a moment. It’s true, there’s nothing explicit between him and Amy …
Rush puts a hand on Bohdi’s shoulder. “Don’t let her get to you, you know how women are. And hey, Nari may be better looking, but you’ve got the whole exotic thing going for you. Cash in.”
Bohdi blinks. Rush is being completely honest, but in his gut he feels like his honesty isn’t adding up to truth. His heart pounds in his ears. Somehow he just knows Amy is in some sort of trouble. He sweeps Rush’s hand from his shoulder. “You’re an idiot,” he mutters.
“No man,” Rush says, “don’t embarrass yourself.”
But Bohdi’s already up. He hears Thor behind him. “Friend Patel?”
“He’s just off to find Lewis,” Rush says, and then the talk at the table is drowned out by the roar of other conversations as Bohdi pushes through the crowd. A few moments later, he’s stepping out into the cold night air. He hits his radio and says, “Amy? Amy?” It’s a shared frequency, and it’s Steve that answers. “Rush says she’s with Nari.”
Bohdi doesn’t answer. He hears Valli and Nari’s laughter. Spinning, he sees them in the light of a few dim torches set up outside the hall. They are walking down the snow-packed alley with Magi and Modi. But Amy’s not with them. Jogging over, he shouts, “Nari, where is Amy?”
Beatrice’s voice buzzes over the radio in his ear. “Wait, she isn’t with Nari?”
Bohdi doesn’t respond—his eyes are trained on Loki’s son.
“I don’t know,” says Nari, sounding unusually pissy. Bohdi ducks just before he sneezes all over them. Walking by him, Valli laughs, “He sneezed. He’s still human!” Which isn’t funny, but it makes all of them laugh for some reason. Bohdi’s vision goes red. He doesn’t have time for this. His rifle is on his back, but it’s useless. Nari can’t be hurt when he wears his scabbard, so it has to come off. Bohdi feigns a chuckle and jogs to catch up with the group, slipping his mittens into a pocket, and his knife out as he does. He puts the hand with the knife behind Nari’s back and smiles at him. “Yeah,” he says, “Maybe someday I’ll be as cool as you.”
“Well, you are in Jotunheim, where it is very cold,” says Magi or Modi, sounding vaguely co
nfused.
Bohdi slides his knife down, catches the scabbard belt with the blade, slashes … and only manages to nearly rip his shoulder out of joint.
Nari spins and Bohdi drops his knife just before Nari catches his wrist. Bohdi lunges for the collar of Nari’s coat, hoping to throw the bastard and rip off the belt.
“You fool,” says Nari, as Bohdi’s hand latches around the leather and fur collar, brushing Nari’s jugular.
“Brother!” screams Valli, as Bohdi throws Nari over one leg and into the snow. Loki’s son sprawls on his back, but he doesn’t let go of Bohdi’s wrist, and Bohdi goes down with him. Latching his free hand around Nari’s throat, Bohdi snarls in frustration. Nari’s throat feels like warm marble under his hand. Nari’s free hand shoots up and grasps the wrist of the hand around his neck. His grip is warm against Bohdi’s skin. Tree limbs whip and snap at Nari’s waist—Bohdi curses—the magical scabbard is trapped between their bodies and the tree limbs can’t get to it.
“You?” Nari whispers.
“I’ll kill you,” Valli snarls, and then Bohdi hears the ring of steel as Kusanagi leaves its sheath. He tries to pull away from Nari, knowing he’s about to be run through, but Nari’s hands are vise-like on his wrists.
Valli grunts, and Nari flips Bohdi over. The air is whipped out of Bohdi’s lungs, and snow is falling over the edge of his collar. He sees the glinting arc of Kusanagi as it plunges toward Nari’s back, and watches as it connects with Loki’s son’s spine. But the scabbard is still trapped between them, away from the branches, and the sword reverberates like the string of a guitar. Nari seems unhurt. More tree branches whip down like snakes—
Valli pulls back the sword fast. “Brother! Get out of my way!”
“Get back Valli!” Nari shouts, eyes locked on Bohdi.
Bohdi doesn’t have time to think about why Nari saved him—he knows Amy is in trouble. “Where is she?” Bohdi demands—as though he is in a position to demand, not flat on his back in the snow. “And don’t lie! I hate it when people lie to me!”
“I know,” Nari says, still holding Bohdi’s wrists, his grip very warm. “Forgive me.”