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

by C. Gockel

  Bohdi hears the tiny chair of Gem’s small desk creak and Steve begins his standard script. “There are just too many players in this game, Mr. Tucker. Someone is going to slip up, and Odin is going to learn the new incarnation is with us.”

  “Every one of the SEALs and Harding are patriots, Sir. None of us would work for Odin.”

  And that is really defensive considering that isn’t what Steve asked directly. It was, of course, the indirect question, and Bohdi’s nose doesn’t even tickle. Steve’s gone through this routine with everyone in the past three days since Bjorna was injured. Bohdi’s been listening; none of the SEALs or Harding has told a lie.

  “I don’t drink, Sir,” Tucker says. “I won’t slip.”

  “Of course not, Mr. Tucker,” Steve says.

  Bohdi hears a floorboard squeak and then Tucker says, “It’s snowing outside. Will you still be taking Bjorna to the cavern to treat her knee?”

  It’s been three days since Bjorna’s “accident.” They’ve been waiting for things to cool down a bit before moving her. Bohdi leans down so he can peek out one of the tiny windows. Large flakes are drifting down, making the just-past-noon hour seem later.

  “We still have every intention of taking Bjorna to the cavern,” Steve says, “As soon as the sun sets and we can go without attracting attention.” There is a pause, and then Steve adds, “I see you have guard duty here tonight—I can have you on the team that brings her to the cavern.”

  “No, Sir, that’s alright, Sir.”

  Bohdi’s ears perk up. His nose doesn’t tickle, but Tucker sounds nervous. He’s kind of crazy about Bjorna, so why wouldn’t he want to go with her?

  “Really?” says Steve. The surprise in his voice genuine, according to Bohdi’s nose.

  A floorboard creaks and Tucker clears his throat. “I think that all my attention may be making her uncomfortable.”

  Amy had voiced a similar opinion to Bohdi just a day before. So Tucker recognizes it too, and is voluntarily stepping back? Bohdi shakes his head. Tucker can be an uptight-rule sticker, but Bohdi feels bad for the guy.

  When Steve speaks, his voice rumbles with sympathy. “She’s been through a lot.” Bohdi lifts an eyebrow; Steve may not be able to sing, but when he is speaking he has perfect pitch.

  The chair squeaks again, and Bohdi hears Steve’s footsteps, Tucker trailing behind. He stands up quickly and tries to look like he’s casually descending the stairs.

  Steve comes into view and says, “Patel, Lewis is back. Let’s go get her,” and Bohdi snaps to attention.

  x x x x

  “Well?” Steve says, a few minutes after the interview with Tucker in the hallway.

  Bohdi shakes his head. “Tucker wasn’t lying.” His eyes go back to Amy. They’re having a meeting in Steve’s tiny room. She’s very close, and Bohdi’s finding it hard not to wrap his arms around her. Consummating their relationship hasn’t made him want her less; if anything it’s made him want her more.

  Steve clears his throat. Bohdi’s eyes remain locked on Amy. She’s wearing a new linen shirt that looks like it was made for her. It’s cut generously in the chest and nipped in at the waist. She’s also wearing some new brown leather trousers. They have an interesting drawstring closure. He wants to untie it.

  Amy’s cheeks flush and she smiles a little shyly. “Loot,” she says. “The Frost Giants gave it to me—my clothes got messy.”

  While everyone else was at PT she’d helped with the delivery of a warrior’s baby. The locals are beginning to believe she’s good luck to have around during birth. She finds it ironic, and he knows it brings back bitter memories for her. Which makes him want to pull her tight even more—that wouldn’t be selfish, would it?

  The past few days she’s told him a lot about her time in the other universes, about the other Loki’s: one that destroyed the Nine Realms, and one that tried to essentially enslave her. He understands why she reacted the way she did that first night … and he is overwhelmed that despite everything, she still wants to be with him.

  “Bohdi,” Steve says, “did you find any World Gates between Niflheim and Earth in Loki’s book?”

  Bohdi blinks, looks to Steve, and shakes his head again.

  “There is a World Gate there that Hoenir made later.” Amy’s words make Bohdi and Steve’s heads snap toward her.

  Tapping her lip, she adds hastily, “Between Asgard and Niflheim … not Earth and Niflheim. After Helen died Loki was … well, I think Hoenir didn’t want him to have to go through the main Gate, so he created one from her grave that opens in Asgard near Loki’s home.” She scuffs the floor with her foot, and Bohdi slides closer to her and hooks his hand in hers.

  “Sigyn knows about it,” Amy says. “Guess it doesn’t matter though.” Squeezing Bohdi’s hand, she looks up at Steve. “I mean, we’re not thinking of going to Niflheim, are we? In the Dark Lands we’ll have allies, and the magical runoff of the Delta of Sorrows will distort Heimdall’s gaze and make it difficult for Odin to create a new World Gate.”

  Steve sighs and leans against his dresser. “Odin expects us to go through the Dark Lands; I was hoping we could surprise him.”

  Bohdi’s free hand finds his lighter. Steve’s been tense the past few days, and it’s putting Bohdi on edge.

  “Hey,” Bohdi says. “Even if Odin figures out I’m here, he can’t swoop down and take me—the trees keep him out. And even our M4s can pierce steel armor when it’s not magical. We’re safe for now, and we have plenty of time before spring to think of a way to get to the Dark Land’s World Gate.”

  Steve’s jaw twitches.

  Amy steps closer to Steve, releasing Bohdi’s hand. “If that Daevas guy brings some magical objects, Bohdi might even be able to use them to walk the In Between.”

  Steve rubs his temple. “Bohdi can’t walk the In Between yet—even if Daevas comes.”

  “But I did look into the In Between!” Bohdi says, trying to be encouraging to Steve, or himself, he’s not sure. “I think—it was dark and cold and felt like I was in a vacuum.”

  Steve raises an eyebrow. “You passed out immediately after you did that. You could have been hallucinating.”

  Bohdi spins his lighter between his fingers. That might be true, but he feels like it’s not. He’d been so hungry afterward and so tired. He’s hoping he can try it again tonight in the cavern, after Bjorna’s leg is better.

  “Bohdi is getting better at creating illusions, too!” Amy says.

  Bohdi’s lips purse. At the moment, he can create tiny will-o-wisps of light, not really illusions per se.

  Steve raises an eyebrow at the exaggeration.

  Amy lifts her chin. “We’ll think of something. We have to stay positive.”

  “Of course,” says Steve. But he doesn’t sound positive. His eyes fall to where Bohdi has slipped his hand behind Amy’s back.

  Steve straightens. Very quietly, he says, “I know you have to be infected with the virus now, Dr. Lewis.”

  Amy’s back stiffens beneath Bohdi’s hand. Bohdi looks at her worriedly. She always gets nervous when her magic is discussed.

  “Do you remember anything of your missing hour yet?” Steve says.

  Amy takes a step back, and her hand goes to her head. Bohdi shoots a glare at Steve. Steve knows better than to go there. Ignoring him, Steve takes a step closer to Amy. “Dr. Lewis, I’m sorry, but I have to ask. I’m almost positive it was Hoenir who saved you. We need the Creator’s help, he’s the last piece of the puzzle—”

  Bohdi blinks. Steve hadn’t told him that. He looks to Amy. Ducking her head, Amy says, “I can’t tell you where the Creator is.”

  “You can’t? Or you won’t?” Steve takes a step closer. “This is important, Dr. Lewis.” Steve’s voice is soft and soothing, but Amy whimpers and bends. She’s so tiny, even compared to Bohdi, but especially compared to Steve.

  “Stop!” Bohdi hisses.

  Steve draws back. His eyes flash to Bohdi. They’re glowing pur
ple, and a branch from the rafters is uncoiling and waving cautiously toward the back of Steve’s head. “We have to know,” Steve says. “Our lives may depend on it.”

  Bohdi’s lip curls, but Amy says, “I know, I just can’t.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Bohdi snaps. Steve meets his gaze, and then looks back to Amy; she’s still shaking.

  Steve’s shoulders fall. Footsteps sound in the hallway outside the door. Bohdi hears someone opening up the ladder to the attic and the creak of the steps.

  “Are we dismissed?” Bohdi says.

  Steve nods, his eyes on the window.

  “Come on, Amy,” Bohdi says, leading her to the door, but she stops before he opens it.

  She turns to Steve, her lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Steve,” she says. “I know it’s important.”

  Bohdi’s jaw grinds. Why does she have to be so nice?

  Steve lets out a long breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, but …”

  Bohdi’s nose doesn’t itch. Steve’s not lying, he’ll give him that.

  “Everyone is depending on you and you feel responsible for all of us,” Amy says, nodding, her eyes wide and sympathetic. “I’ll try, I’ll try and remember, I promise.”

  Steve’s frame relaxes, and he lets out a long breath. “Thank you.” Bowing his head, Steve says, “Would you do something else for me?”

  Amy takes a step forward. “Sure.”

  Not raising his head, Steve says, “You two have more experience with these things than anyone.” He looks at Bohdi. “And you have the best luck. If I don’t make it … will you look out for Claire?”

  All the hard angles have left Steve’s face; he looks vulnerable and open. Bohdi gulps. Steve isn’t just looking out for the team, he’s looking out for his kid—who’s practically the whole team’s kid sister. Bohdi nods. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Amy nod, too.

  Steve puts a hand through his hair, and then pulls out his phone and scans the screen. “Why don’t the two of you take the afternoon off?”

  Bohdi stands up straighter. He’d been on kitchen duty this afternoon—which he really had not been looking forward to. The mudroom still smells like vomit—Rush got drunk again last night, and his inebriated clean-up efforts were less than exemplary. Meeting his eyes, Steve says, “Rush can take over for you. He should have done a better job of cleaning up his mess.”

  Amy gives a timid smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Bohdi says, gripping his lighter. As an apology for freaking Amy out, it’s generous. Bohdi spins the wheel on his lighter. What did he expect? Steve has always looked out for him, for both of them.

  “Just be at the cavern by sunset,” Steve says. “I know Bjorna will want you there when her knee is repaired, Dr. Lewis.”

  Bohdi’s eyes slide to Amy. She’s not trembling anymore. “I’ll be there.”

  x x x x

  A few minutes later, they’re alone in the hall. “I want to get out of here,” Amy says, voice just audible over Rush’s lumbering footsteps on the stairs.

  Bohdi’s eyes slide to her as Rush passes by. Amy looks like she has the Frost Giant melanin impairment. She worries about other people, just like Steve. Maybe Bohdi’s job is to make the worriers not worry for a while?

  “We could go to the cavern,” Bohdi suggests; it’s the only other place he’s allowed to go that is warm. He glances again toward the attic. The stairs are down, and he hears Gem and Berry’s voices above. He can think of some ways to make Amy forget to worry up there.

  “That sounds okay,” Amy says. She doesn’t sound excited.

  Down the hall, Steve’s door opens. “Rush, get in here,” Steve roars.

  “Aren’t you supposed to stay inside?” Amy says.

  Bohdi huffs. “If I’m expected to run seven miles of PT in the snow, I can go outside for R and R.” It was only supposed to be five miles but then Larson added two more when Bohdi stopped to look at what he is sure are some ancient ruins of the old Keep. Larson had said he was just stalling. Which he had been, partly, but he is very curious about the ruins.

  Amy bites her lip.

  “We’ll avoid Asgardians,” he says.

  She nods. They’re just at the stairs when Amy whispers. “I don’t really want to go to the cavern. I’ve just had enough of everyone …” She looks at him quickly. “Except you.”

  Bohdi looks to the attic. That’s really the only place in the inn to even be barely alone. He hears Gem laughing at something Berry says. Bohdi scowls—and then he has an idea.

  Chapter 25

  A knock sounds at Steve’s door. He lifts his head from the map he is surveying. Sigyn is standing in the door frame. “Time to go, Captain,” she says.

  He glances toward the window. Sure enough, the sun is setting. From the attic above comes the sound of rhythmic thumping. Sigyn’s gaze lifts, and her lips part slightly.

  Steve rolls his eyes. “Lewis and Bohdi—I keep telling myself at least I know where they are.” They have been at it for hours. He frowns, and his eyes slip to Sigyn almost unconsciously. As always, she looks put together. Their clothing has started to disintegrate on their bodies. Like everyone else’s, her sweater has patches on the elbows, but on her they look like a fashion statement. He picks up his own sweater and scowls. Bohdi has said Steve’s patches look like they were sewn by an inebriated spider.

  “They have the right idea,” Sigyn says, as the noise above ceases.

  Steve grunts in assent, shrugging on his sweater. He knows what she means. Their chances of surviving past the winter are very slim. If he could, he’d make the most of every moment. He longs to have a partner, to have some vent from the fear—and some comfort. His eyes slide to Sigyn again and then he quickly looks away. “They have time.” The words rumble out of him with more bitterness than he intends.

  Sigyn closes the door until it is open just a crack. “Perhaps you should make time.”

  Where he is zipping up the front of his sweater, Steve’s hands freeze. He’s not startled by the suggestion; he’s felt the attraction between them. Still, the implications of her words make his skin heat and his nerves sing. He almost expects the tickle of a branch on his neck, but none comes. She’s being very diplomatic, opaque and transparent at once. He likes it, he likes her, and he wants, but there isn’t much he can give.

  And then he meets her gaze. Her almost-violet eyes are steady and unfazed. She looks like she’s fifteen years his junior—and alluring as that might be to some men, to Steve younger than thirty just means trouble: sentimentality and immaturity. But she’s older than him by several centuries; she has to know he can’t give her grand gestures or consuming adoration.

  Closing the distance between them, Steve says, “I only have a minute.”

  The corner of Sigyn’s lips turn up in a smile. “Perhaps you should make the most of it?”

  Steve finds the air leaving his lungs in a long gust of relief that he doesn’t expect. He’s become so accustomed to the weight of what they’re trying to accomplish, he’s startled when it lessens. Reaching to touch her cheek, he wishes he could make the moment last, but he hears Claire’s footsteps rapidly approaching. He kisses Sigyn, despite his daughter’s rapid advance. It’s a quick kiss, barely a brush, but it’s been so long it’s like electrical jolt down his spine, more heady than magic. The footsteps get closer, and Steve and Sigyn break apart. Without words, he knows they have a promise, not of forever, just for now. He feels muscles in him uncoiling and hope rising in his chest as Claire bounds in the door. Steve blinks. Instead of little puffs of pigtails, on either side of her head her hair has been twirled up into little unicorn-shaped horns. She grins wildly. “Do you like them? Sigyn did them for me!”

  Steve’s eyes go to Sigyn. She shrugs. “Some of my friends among the Valkyries had the same hair texture. I told Claire of their hairstyles … she chose this one.” Steve’s eyes narrow at the woman. Over Claire’s head Sigyn mouths the words, choose your battle
s.

  She’s right. Raising an eyebrow at his daughter, Steve says, “You won’t be able to wear a hat with those.”

  “But I look fierce!” Spinning, she says to Sigyn, “Can I go to the cavern, too? I want to practice being the strongest again.”

  Sigyn looks to Steve. Steve looks at Claire. “Yes, but behave.”

  Claire jumps and turns 180 degrees in the air. “Yippee!” Then she dashes from the room, leaving the door wide open.

  “And put on a hat!” Steve shouts after her.

  Backing up, Sigyn says, “I’ll find a hat that will work—or at least earmuffs. Thank you for that minute of your time, Captain.”

  “My pleasure,” he says, keeping his voice flat as Larson emerges in the doorway. She winks outside Larson’s line of sight. And that almost makes him smile. She understands.

  To Larson he says, “We’re ready?”

  “Yes, Sir, Bjorna is loaded on a stretcher,” he replies.

  Steve looks toward the ceiling and hears the faint sound of footsteps.

  “Go on ahead,” he says. “I’ll follow. I want to escort Patel and Lewis.” Bjorna may only want Lewis there, but if Lewis is there Bohdi will come, too, even if he stays above ground for fear of “jinxing” anything.

  Larson nods. “Yes, Sir.”

  Steve finishes putting on his gear. Below him, he hears Sigyn talking to Bjorna, promising to carry Cannonball and stand right next to her the entire time during the journey; Larson ordering Redman to take point; Harding grousing happily about finding an empty shell casing for Fenrir; and Claire shouting cheerfully that she’ll hold the door.

  Moving to the hallway, Steve stands beneath the attic trap door and clears his throat. Below him he hears the team exiting the inn, Claire’s footsteps among them. Above he hears scuffling, but the trap door to the attic doesn’t budge. Beatrice steps out of the room she shares with Harding and Lewis in full gear. Looking up at the trap door, she says, “You can come down now! We know you’re up there.”

  All scuffling above ceases. The trapdoor opens, and Berry’s ruddy face peers down at them. Steve’s jaw drops in shock. The iron wood branches had been throwing fits earlier—he was sure it was a sign of Bohdi and Amy dancing between the sheets.