Ragnarok: I Bring the Fire Part VI (Loki Vowed Asgard Would Burn)

by C. Gockel

  Eyes widening in alarm, Steve calls out, “Bohdi! Let it go.” But Bohdi only struggles more. Pulling himself free, Steve drops to the ground and runs over to the kid, trying to ignore the whimpering of Cannonball and the rapidly approaching Asgardians.

  x x x x

  Amy looks through her supplies in the mudroom. The light catching in the filaments of her “special penicillin” sparkles from the shelf above her. Steve’s command echoes in her ear. Do not leave the inn. They’ve made a stretcher for Bjorna, and she’s on her way. She hears Harding’s voice outside the back door, and Fenrir’s whine.

  Amy throws open the door, expecting to find Bjorna on a stretcher, but it’s Bohdi and Berry. Bohdi’s not looking at her. As he comes in, she touches his arm, but doesn’t ask him questions. Glancing down at his boots, she notices that they’re stained with blood. She bites her lip. What would she have done if she’d seen someone trying to stone a mother and baby to death? She scowls. What would she have wanted to do? Her wrath is as immaterial as a breeze.

  Berry says, “Patel, take off your boots and then keep out of sight.”

  Sitting down heavily, Bohdi mutely does as he was told. Amy wants to speak to him but hears a commotion in the front and the sound of Cannonball’s cries. Heading into the main room, she finds Gem cradling Cannonball, trying to quiet him and at the same time sobbing. “I told her it was too dangerous … I told her it was too dangerous …”

  Amy knows the guys checked him for head trauma, and his wail sounds more furious than pained, but she says to Thomas, “Unswaddle him and check for any signs of bruising.” Thomas obeys, and Amy is glad they’ve all received basic medical training, and that at least in one way they don’t question her.

  Tucker and Cruz file through the door, carrying Bjorna between them. The Frost Giantess is cradling one knee. The rest of the team follows behind them, which she expects. What she doesn’t expect is Ullr to be there, along with Thor, a few other Asgardians, and Ralf, one of the Frost Giant warriors smitten with Harding.

  As soon as the guys deposit Bjorna close to the fire, Amy rushes to her side. “Cannonball,” the Frost Giantess whispers.

  “I don’t see any bruising on him,” Thomas says. “Pupils look good … follow my finger; that a boy.”

  “He is going to be fine,” Amy says, and almost on cue, the baby’s cries die down.

  Tucker towers over Amy as she kneels on the floor. “Give me your knife,” Amy says. It’s part of their standard kit. He obliges, and she takes the blade and begins slicing the leather trousers Bjorna wears beneath her skirts.

  As she does, Ralf says, “His eyes glow. You can say that he is human, but of course people are afraid.”

  All ambient noise in the room stops. Amy, peeling back the leather from Bjorna’s kneecap and what she is almost positive is a patella fracture, freezes in place. She bites her tongue. She wants to reply to that—loudly and forcefully—but she doesn’t want to tip any diplomatic scales.

  From where she stands at the door with Sigyn, Gerðr, and her father, Claire roars. “He’s a baby!”

  As Claire says the words Amy’s sure everyone wants to say but can’t, Amy feels like an atmosphere of collective relief settles on the room.

  “As humans say, from the mouths of babes,” says Ullr. Amy’s eyes go to Thor’s adoptive son. It may be the lighting, but he looks more like Thor than even Magi and Modi. The look he’s giving to Ralf could kill. Steve had mentioned that Ullr had run off to help find Claire—that’s why he was witness to Tucker’s “incident.” She remembers Loki’s memories of retrieving Ullr’s child from a Dark Elf. Ullr understands the plight of a lost child—the hurt of it.

  Bjorna hisses in pain, and Amy turns back to the Frost Giantess and takes her hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to touch your knee. It will mostly likely sting.” Bjorna nods, and Amy gently runs her fingers over Bjorna’s bruised kneecap with wrongly dimpled skin. The Frost Giantess hisses again, but louder than that is the sound of her patella fragments, grinding together. Amy almost gasps … she can see in her mind’s eye the multiple fragments, radiating from a point just below the patella center. Her skin heats. No, she’s having a hallucination; she could not have possibly heard Bjorna’s bones grind. The rafters of the iron wood tree groan above her head … she looks up at the ceiling. That’s what she heard, the branches.

  Thor sits down on his heels on the opposite side of the Frost Giantess. “May I?” he asks.

  Suddenly needing reaffirmation she’s not crazy, Amy nods. Thor reaches forward, and Amy realizes her fingers are still hovering over Bjorna’s knee. Just before she draws them back, Thor’s fingers brush her own. He snaps back his hand.

  Caught off guard by his strange behavior, Amy mumbles her diagnosis, “Patella fracture. Multifragmented, undisplaced.”

  Thor raises an eyebrow. “That would be my diagnosis as well.”

  “It’s the dimpling in the skin …” Amy says, trying to explain how she knows, though she isn’t sure how she knows. “You can see it.”

  Thor does not respond.

  In the background she hears Ralf saying, “There will be a blood feud now, but they are only peasants … you don’t have much to worry about. The warriors of Jotunheim are still your friends.”

  “And with friends like these …” someone mutters, maybe Tucker. Amy doesn’t turn to look. Thor is staring at her. His expression is calculating, but not cruel.

  “I will report events as they happened to Heiðr,” says Ralf, and the floorboards creak as the team parts to let him pass.

  It’s only when the door slams shut that Thor speaks again, gaze still steady on Amy. “I’m afraid if I use magic to treat this it will bring the house down on our heads.”

  “It’s alright,” Amy says, snagging a pillow and gently putting it under Bjorna’s leg. “I’ll splint it.” She takes an instant ice pack from her kit and gently puts it on the kneecap to reduce the swelling. They have all-purpose splints as part of their medical gear—she’ll put it on so that when the guys haul Bjorna to the cavern for Sigyn or Nari to work their magic, her leg will stay immobile. She tries to give Bjorna a reassuring smile.

  “I can do something for the pain perhaps …”

  All the wheels in Amy’s brain start spinning. She doesn’t have much in the way of painkillers that will be strong enough for a fractured kneecap and safe for a nursing mother. “Please!” say Amy and Bjorna at once.

  Thor reaches toward Bjorna and murmurs, “Sleep.” He uses his fingers to gently close her eyes. The inn creaks and groans, but Bjorna begins to breathe deeply. When Thor pulls his fingers from her eyes, they stay closed.

  Thor returns his gaze to Amy, and Amy has a weird sense of déjà vu, but she can’t figure out why. She has an impossible-to-ignore urge to fidget. Ducking her head, she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear … and becomes aware of the goings on in the rest of the room. Someone is pacing, their footsteps are too loud—almost as if they’re stomping in a temper tantrum. She hears the sound of impact, and turns to see Rush, standing in the little hallway between the main rooms and the kitchen. It takes a moment, but she realizes that he’s banged the wall with the flat bottom of his fist. His face looks anguished. “They were going to stone Cannonball! Rapist butt fuckers and baby killers! What is wrong with these people?”

  Amy suddenly feels lightheaded. She had never thought she had a lot in common with Rush; he’s a misogynistic, passive-aggressive creep who only laid off his “subtle” advances when he decided Bohdi was a worthy teammate. But she’s more like him than the Frost Giants.

  “They only respect violence,” Ullr says, walking over to Bjorna. “They have no respect for those women of gentle grace like Bjorna, or for children.”

  Amy looks to Gerðr. The Giantess does not refute Ullr’s statement. Amy bows her head; the Asgardians are more human than the Frost Giants. No, that isn’t quite right. Her brow furrows, remembering stories she’s read of places in the third wo
rld where stoning is a punishment for adultery or for marriages not approved by parents. Such things don’t exist in Asgard; the death penalty is reserved for traitors. Her eyes flit to Nari and Valli … although the Asgard definition of “traitor” is a loose one.

  “What will happen to them after we leave?” Tucker says.

  His words invite the proverbial elephant into the room. Amy tenses, and her eyes flick to Steve. She can see the muscles in his jaw working. She looks around the room. Asgardians and humans shift uneasily on their feet; everyone looks pained.

  Ullr bows his head. “The Allfather is merciful to women and children. If she surrenders to us, she might bring her child to Asgard and find gainful service as a household servant. The child is unusual … but a lesser house would be accommodating.”

  “What about Gem?” Amy says. Her eyes go to the small dwarven woman.

  “The dwarf woman would be welcome,” Ullr says. He nods at Gem. “The industriousness of your people is well known.”

  Where she is gently jiggling Cannonball in her arms, Gem says, “Thank you. But the Allfather has repatriation agreements with my realm. He would send me back.”

  Amy’s mouth falls open.

  Gem’s gaze stays fastened on Ullr’s. “Do you think any proper Black Dwarf would live in this cold-bright realm? I’m a member of the resistance movement in my home realm. Do you really blame me?”

  Amy remembers Loki’s thoughts on the puppet monarchies of the Red Dwarf and Black Dwarfs—they were venal toward their people, profligate in their personal ways, and they granted the ordinary dwarves much less legal protection than the lowest Asgardian.

  Ullr raises an eyebrow. “Perhaps not.”

  Amy looks around the room. The SEALs are staring at Gem. The Asgardians are shifting on their feet, looking bashful. At that moment, Amy realizes there is one Asgardian who has been very quiet. Her eyes slide to the normally very vocal, boisterous Thor. He’s still gazing at her, expression somber.

  “We will leave you now,” Ullr says.

  One of the other Asgardians says, “Perhaps we can resume the game when you’ve finished here.”

  There is an awkward beat of silence. But then Tucker says, “Sure.”

  The Asgardians begin to file toward the door, but Thor doesn’t budge. “Father?” says Ullr.

  Thor smiles up at him. “I’d like to speak with my friend Bohdi Patel.”

  Ullr draws back but says, “Very well.” He takes a step toward the door, but then stops. “Is one of your number perhaps gifted in fire?”

  In her own language Gerðr snaps too quickly, “They are all gifted in fire.”

  It’s an exaggeration, and too obvious a coverup; Ullr’s eyes narrow at the Giantess. And then Larson waves a hand, and the few real candles in the room spring to life. Steve draws himself to his full height, his eyes flash purple, and a fire springs to life in the hearth. Amy blinks, and Tucker snaps his fingers—a spark flickers in the air and then vanishes. The building groans, and the plaster in the walls cracks as the rafters bow.

  Looking up at the ceiling, Tucker mutters, “We are a danger to ourselves and others.”

  Ullr gapes and Gem snaps, “Don’t destroy my home!”

  Ullr’s eyes slide to Thor, wide with alarm. Thor shrugs and stands up. “I’m used to the company of chaotic fire wielders. I’ll be fine.”

  “As you say,” Ullr says. He nods at Steve, Larson, and Tucker, and then leaves the inn. There is a moment when all is silent, and then everyone starts talking at once.

  Thor turns back to Amy and says, “Do you know?”

  Amy stares blankly at him, and then figures out what he’s really asking. “Oh, we all know that Bohdi is … you know … Chaos.”

  Thor’s brows draw together. “Hmmmmm…” he murmurs. And then he says, “I’d like to see your splint, Dr. Lewis.”

  Amy takes a breath, a little surprised, but then she shrugs. “Want to see the primitive way to do it?”

  Thor gives her a bemused smile. “You said it, not me.”

  Lifting the ice pack from Bjorna’s knee, Amy blinks. “That’s weird, the swelling has gone down much more than I expected.” And then she shakes her head. Of course, Thor probably did that! It was probably too small a magic to crack plaster. She almost says thank you, but then a thought occurs to her. She has to have been infected by the virus by now. Maybe it wasn’t Thor’s magic, maybe it was–

  Amy crumples at the waist, pain flashing behind her eyes.

  “Doctor Lewis,” Thor whispers. She feels his hand on her forehead, surprisingly cool. Amy shakes herself; she can’t have a headache now. Bjorna needs her. The pain recedes enough for her to open her eyes. “Thank you,” she mumbles to Thor.

  He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment as she shakily takes out the splint. The military splints are actually kind of cool. They are essentially rolls of metal tape covered in a thin foam for comfort against the skin. They can be placed over just about any sprain, fracture, or break, and secured with tape or bandages to immobilize the injury site. Amy slips one splint behind Bjorna’s leg and molds it to keep the knee slightly bent, the tremor leaving her limbs as she focuses on her task. Then she takes tape and creates straps above and below Bjorna’s kneecap, being sure to leave room for an ice pack. When she’s done, she sits back and admires her handiwork.

  “I thought you were an animal doctor,” Thor says.

  “Did I set it wrong?” Amy asks. She was sure the fragments were still together and that the angle of Bjorna’s knee was correct. Not that she’s done this before, but she has this strange memory —

  “No, you did it perfectly,” says Thor.

  Amy sighs with relief, and from the hallway comes Bohdi’s voice. “Of course she did!”

  Thor lifts his head and grins. “Mr. Patel! There you are.” Laughing, he stands up and heads toward Bohdi with huge lumbering steps, his honest, wide open face like a ray of sunshine. He smacks Bohdi on the back so hard, he nearly falls over.

  “Wait,” whispers Redman. “I thought we were supposed to keep Asgardians away from Patel.”

  “He knows,” Amy whispers back.

  “You lied to your people?” Larson growls.

  Thor stops mid-stride. He’s no longer smiling, and Amy feels like the sun has gone behind a cloud. “I did not lie,” Thor says to Larson. “And I kept my first and most important oath: to protect Asgard.” He smiles tightly. “Sometimes, we protect what we love by disobeying orders. Doesn’t your military, in fact, command you to disobey orders if a superior’s orders contradict the laws of your people?”

  The tightness in Larson’s jaw softens, but he does not speak.

  Steve rumbles. “Yes, we are ordered to obey only appropriate orders.”

  “You understand our oaths right,” Berry says. Harding and Cruz nod. Rush cracks his knuckles. Park and Tucker are staring at the floor, both looking lost in thought.

  Thor steps back from Bohdi. Putting his hands on Bohdi’s shoulders, he squints at the empty air around Bohdi’s head—looking at Bohdi’s aura, Amy realizes. “You are starting to show.”

  “It’s not like I’m pregnant, Thor,” Bohdi snaps.

  Pulling back his hands, Thor roars with laughter. Wiping away a tear, he says, “You know, there is a very entertaining myth about Loki and a horse …”

  “Don’t even go there!” Valli roars.

  “No, please do,” says Larson.

  Putting a hand to his chest, Bohdi flutters his eyelashes. “I, for one, am very proud of Sleipnir.” Thor’s jaw drops. Bohdi bounces up and down on his feet. “But I’d rather tell them about the time we both dressed up as girls!”

  Thor snarls, “Why, you little …”

  But Bohdi is already sprinting for the kitchen, cackling maniacally. Thor chases after him, and Claire tears after Thor, and Nari, Valli, and Sigyn follow Claire. The SEALs blink at each other for a moment, and then the normally calm, rational Berry says, “I gotta see this.” He breaks into
a run and the rest of the SEALs follow.

  Gaping, Amy sits in place, overcome by déjà vu. It is so much like the interactions between young Thor and young Loki. She feels hope flare in her chest.

  “This is not good.” Steve’s voice makes her jump. Turning, she sees him by the door. His eyes are glowing purple. A branch from the rafters uncurls and twists toward his neck. Steve slaps it away with a grimace. “Too many people know,” he says.

  Amy bites her lip. Trying to be positive, she says, “Even if Odin finds out, he can’t open a World Gate here … and the Asgardians’ magical armor doesn’t work. Our—your—rifles will work.”

  “No,” Steve says. “Odin will find a way.”

  With that he storms from the room, calling for Larson and Berry.

  Chapter 24

  Bohdi sits on the staircase in the inn, flipping quietly through Lothur’s journal. There are so many tantalizing tricks to try on its pages. He stops on a page that describes the In Between. Hyde, author of Trickster Makes this World, said that tricksters are the master of the In Between and the crossroads. In Lothur’s journal, the In Between is described as the ultimate crossroad, a step between anywhere on a given world and anywhere else. The journal uses a metaphor to describe how to get there—and so far Bohdi’s had only limited success. Gerðr says he is as powerful as an Asgardian or Frost Giant now; she says he’s only held back by lack of experience and control. He scowls. His lack of control may stem from the fact that he doesn’t meditate to harness magic … he thinks of sex or destroying things. He thumps the pages with his thumb. He’s sure if he knew the hard science behind the In Between he could master it faster.

  Below him just out of his line of sight he hears Steve sigh. It makes his nose itch—Steve is acting—and Bohdi is supposed to be monitoring the act. Reluctantly putting the book to the side, he tilts his head to hear better. Tucker’s voice rises from the room below. “Sir, what’s wrong?”