Magpies & Moonshine

by Heather R. Blair

  “Star magic?” My eyes go wide. “You think I can walk into Helheim, just like Styx.”

  “Yes, I do. In fact, I’m counting on it.” He leans forward, those eyes blazing. “I want you to take the Eitr into Hel and dump it out.”

  I stare at him. “You want me to end the world?”

  He smirks. “Oh, told you about that, did he?” The smirk fades. “And yes, actually, I have wanted the world to end for quite a long time. But because I’m a sporting guy, I believe in letting chaos have its shot. I want your vow, witch.”

  He opens his hands again, the image of my mother still shining there, hovering so close I can almost touch her. “Vow you’ll do as I demand or I’ll let you watch her die.”

  I bite my lip, wishing Styx would come outside, wishing someone would, anyone. “If I destroy the realms, she’ll die anyway.”

  “Yes, but the second option offers more hope, doesn’t it?” He sneers knowingly. “Humans and hope. You can’t resist thinking it may work out in the end, no matter how often your shitty lives prove otherwise. Your mother is proof of that.”

  “What do you know of my mother?” I stare at her image in the air. Even with tears running down her face and the heartbreak I can see in her eyes, she makes me calmer. Stronger.

  “I’ve made a study of her, you could say. A long-term one. You can ask her all about it when you get back from Hel.” He laughs softly and I know the god doesn’t believe I’ll return. Neither do I. But he’s right. The chance is better than the certainty.

  “Why though? Why destroy everything?”

  His voice is quiet and cold. “I think you know.”

  And of course, I do. His children.

  “This won’t bring them back.”

  “I’m bitter, not delusional, witch. I know that.” Those eerie eyes glow in the darkness. “Odin destroyed everything I ever created. Now I’m going to do the same to him.”

  “What about the rest of us?”

  He shrugs. “You will all die anyway, eventually. Mortals, gods. It doesn’t matter. No being is truly immortal, not even your monster.”

  “Take the Eitr and make new worlds of your own.” I take a step toward him, desperate. “You were tempted before. I saw your face when I offered you the bottle in Asgaard.”

  He turns away.

  “Make a better one where Loki is the god of all and no one can hurt the people you love.”

  He laughs, but the sound raises the hairs on the back of my neck. “There is no such place. You think I haven’t thought about that? But like you said, it wouldn’t give me back what I lost . . . and you forget who I am, witch: a student of chaos who knows nothing is certain and that no matter how hard you try, you can never truly protect anyone.”

  “My mother’s done a pretty good job,” I say, my throat dry.

  “Has she?” He smiles again. “We shall see about that. Enough stalling. Choose: Your mother or the world? Come now, surely it’s not such a difficult decision. We both know you think he’ll save you. Or perhaps you even think you’ll save yourself.” He cocks his head, but I say nothing, my face as blank as I can make it, thinking hard. But in the end, he’s right.

  There’s really no choice at all.

  With my eyes on my mother’s face, I promise I will walk into Hel tomorrow at dawn with a bottle in my hand.

  Smiling grimly, Loki vanishes. Styx steps through the open door a heartbeat later. He turns on the light. I can hear the frown in his voice as I stand there blinking, trying to figure out what I’m going to do. “What were you doing standing out here in the dark?”

  I turn, forcing a smile on my face. “Waiting for you, of course.”

  His eyes narrow as he steps toward me. “If you changed your mind, Carly, I get it. We don’t have to do this now.”

  “Oh yes we do. I’ll be damned if I die a virgin.” I’m trying for gallows humor here, but it must be too out of character. Styx frowns again, lifting my chin and studying my face.

  I hold my breath, wondering what he sees. But whatever it is, he must put it down to nerves because he lets my chin go and tugs me close.

  “You’re not going to fucking die at all. It will be okay, Carly. Never say never, isn’t that what you always say?”

  “Yes,” I choke out in relief against his chest. “But . . . just in case.”

  He sighs and opens the door of my sister’s Volvo. “Come on then.”

  I push away from his chest, remembering something. “Give me one second.”

  I’m gone before he can protest, running back into the house and up to Ana’s room. Tyr is already there, kneeling in front of the chest. He looks up and freezes as I shut the door quietly.

  “What are you doing, Tyr?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” The Fetters are in his hand, glowing softly. When my eyes widen, he gets to his feet with a sigh. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s just a precaution.”

  “You knew who he was all along, didn’t you, Tyr?”

  He’s good. Damnably good. There’s almost no reaction to my words. Only a faint tightening around those black eyes gives him away.

  I swear softly. “You did. That’s what you were warning me about. You knew Styx was Fenrir.”

  He doesn’t flinch at the accusation in my tone. “I didn’t know. I suspected. It fit.” The assassin ticks off the points on his fingers. “Fenrir disappeared a few thousand years ago. Not too much later, a monster took up residence in the Great Lakes area, one with odd, unexplainable powers, keeping a very low profile. When I got a call from the Old World a while back asking some leading questions about Styx, it got me thinking.”

  I bet it did. “A call from Cyril Mikhailov.”

  Tyr nods. “Yes.”

  “What else did he want?”

  He considers a moment, then shrugs. “The Fetters, of course. Not exactly subtle, that one.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him I had heard a rumor they were in the Firebird Prince’s possession. I saw no reason to advise him I had already stolen them.”

  “Of course. Did you warn Styx someone might be looking for him?”

  For the first time, he looks uncomfortable. “No, I didn’t. A vow of confidentiality is part of most contracts, and the duke was more through with language than most. But I also didn’t think Styx had anything to fear from a nitwit like the duke, and I certainly didn’t want him to know I suspected his identity. Though I did try to warn you,” he points out. “For all the good it did.”

  I frown at him. “So now you’re going to hand him over to Odin?’

  He blinks. “I don’t think it will come to that.”

  “But if it does?”

  His look tells me all I need to know. If Tyr has to choose between making sure Ana is safe and Styx, there is no question who will win.

  “Do you think the Fetters will even hold Styx?” I whisper, then I qualify, “If you had to guess.”

  “I think Styx disappeared after they were created for a reason,” he says finally, running his fingers up and down the glowing strands. “And I can feel the power here. Say what you will about Odin, but he’s smart and he knows more about Styx’s kind than anyone. He commissioned these with very detailed specifications. So yes, Carly. I think they will work.”

  I hear the snick of a blade being drawn, but I chew on my bottom lip, thinking it through. Then I realize, what choice do I have anyway? I lift my gaze and Tyr goes still, his sword half drawn. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers, his sword hand shaking.

  His eyes are black as pitch, but his soul is surprising, a pure, bright silver with only a hint of tarnish.

  I’m trying to be careful, but he whimpers and goes to his knees. It twists my stomach. “Tyr, let go of the Fetters.”

  “I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he whispers.

  Out of the corner of my eye, the blade flickers in the light. “I know. But I can’t let you hurt him either.”

  “They all underesti
mate you, don’t they? Even him.”

  I don’t answer, too intent on our staring contest, knowing one false move could tear his soul in two. Gently, I reach forward and tug the Fetters from his slackened fingers.

  With my other hand I reach into my pocket. A handy bit of spellwork I had no need of in Norway rustles at the same time I shut my eyes, breaking my hold on his soul. When I open them again, Tyr is curled up on his side, snoring softly. He’ll sleep for exactly eight hours, which should be perfect.

  “Looks like you underestimated me, too,” I murmur at him before looking down at the Fetters. My fingers tingle. It’s the weirdest sensation, like trying to hold on to a rope made of Pop Rocks. I shove them in my own pocket on top of the used spellwork and look down at the sleeping assassin, hating the guilt in my chest, but there’ll be time enough for regrets later. At least, I hope so.

  First I need to clean this mess up. Taking a deep breath, I call my magic. “One for sorrow . . .”

  “All set,” I tell Styx brightly a few minutes later. I shut the passenger door and fasten my seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

  19

  “What would happen to a human that wandered into Hel?”

  “Hmm?” I don’t really hear the question, too preoccupied with my own thoughts. So she repeats it.

  I eye her through the growing shadows as we wind up Highway 61. “It’s not possible for the living to cross, Carly. Not without me to guide them, anyway.”

  “Without your power, you mean,” she corrects almost absently.

  “What was that?” My tone is sharp.

  “I just meant, another being with your power could guide a living soul into Hel, right?”

  Oh. “Like one of my people?”

  “Yes.”

  “Certainly, they’d be fine. Like I told you, my people are so close to the stuff of true creation, things like your underworld don’t affect us the way they do you, or even your gods.”

  “But what would happen to a living soul?” she persists. “Like me?”

  “Well, like when I pulled you into the underworld to escape Asgaard, not much. If the exposure was brief. You’re a witch and the amount of time we spent in the underworld was negligible. During just a brief stay, you’d barely feel any negative effects.”

  “But if we had remained for say . . . hours.”

  “Hours?” I look at her aghast.

  She sits there calmly, waiting for it.

  “You’d start to die.”

  “Immediately?”

  “Yes, though it’d be slow since the living soul and body are together. But the separation would start almost immediately, then grow faster and faster, until your soul was ripped from your body. It would be a horrible way to die.” Maybe the most horrible. Though anyone unlucky enough to fall into such a circumstance would be insane long before death. I shudder once. “What puts such things in your head?”

  “Oh,” she says softly, “just wondering if it would be possible to hide there, if Odin really does come for us.”

  There’s something odd and tight to her voice. “That’s not going to happen,” I say firmly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “But war,” she breathes, looking out into the night. “It isn’t right, Styx. Not if it can be avoided.”

  Unfortunately for all of us, if Odin continues to threaten Carly and her family, it can’t be.

  A good hour later, I finally pull Ana’s Volvo into the cabin driveway. We’re a few miles outside of Grand Marais, not far from the Canadian border.

  Carly is dozing, but she rouses as soon as I cut the engine. The stars are just beginning to sparkle.

  I use this cabin a lot when I need to get away. It’s rustic, but comfortable. I’ve never brought Carly here. The idea of being alone with her, far from prying eyes, was far too much temptation. It still is.

  I get out of the car and open her door, then grab her bag while she looks around, eyes wide. The cabin is small, a wooden V tucked back against a copse of trees. It’s pretty, but that’s not what has her so impressed. It’s the cliff.

  There are lots of cliffs on Lake Superior, but mine is one of the most picturesque, a craggy red-and-gold-banded sheer drop to the churning water below.

  “Wow,” she breathes when I tug her back from the edge a minute later. I wrap her in my arms as we look out at the silver-blue expanse. A hint of autumn hangs in the air, smoky and sweet.

  “Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” I ask one last time, my lips against her ear. “There’s no rush.”

  “I know that, but I’ve waited long enough.” She turns in my arms, the melancholy replaced with a look of determination. A look I know all too well.

  “Carly, you know exactly what I am now. I’m still not certain that I won’t lose control.” I swallow hard, voicing my darkest fear. “I could hurt you.”

  “I don’t think so, but I brought something that may ease your fears.” She takes a small glowing coil of rope from her pocket, the sight of which sends a cold shiver down my spine. It shimmers with the colors of a dark rainbow: crimson, burnt umber, gold, emerald, purple and midnight blue. I haven’t seen them in a millennium or more. I thought them lost, rather like the Eitr.

  “I borrowed these from Tyr.” She answers my unspoken question and gives me a bright smile that looks a bit forced. “They’ll hold you, won’t they?”

  I raise an eyebrow after yanking my gaze from what Odin commissioned to be my eternal chains. “You want to tie me up?”

  Her eyes darken and her voice goes husky. “I want you. However I can have you.”

  “I want you, too.” She has no idea how much. If she did . . . Well, knowing Carly, she’d probably ask what the hell we were waiting for. I glance at the Fetters in her hands. If they really do work, she’s right. I won’t have to worry about hurting her. “Let’s test them first. I sure hope you know how to tie a good knot.”

  She smiles again. “I checked out wikiHow on the way up.”

  I choke back a laugh. We’re entrusting her safety to an internet diagram.

  And my ability to control myself.

  Neither option inspires confidence.

  I take a step toward the cabin but she grabs my arm.

  “Tell me something,” she says, her voice low and surprisingly urgent. “What did you feel the day we met? What made you come over to me and pull me out of there?”

  “You know.”

  “No, I really don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know what I felt and I know what I think you felt, but you’ve never told me. I want to know.”

  “I told you my kind are obsessed with energy, in all its forms. Souls are so tempting because they are the most complex form of energy, made up of the very essence of a being, each one incredibly unique.”

  She nods slowly.

  “I don’t have to eat a soul to feel the emotions it contains.” I clear my throat, wondering how she will take this but knowing it’s time to come clean. “In fact, I can see a lot about a person from one glance.”

  “How much?”

  “Everything.”

  Letting out a slow breath, Carly says, “Oh. Wow.”

  I cup her cheek with my hand. “Yeah, wow. I fell in love with your soul with that first glance. With everything that you are and will be.”

  Her eyes are bright, too bright, and her face is suddenly so pale her freckles stand out starkly. “And what do you see in me now, Styx?”

  “You’re terrified, but determined. Sad, but hopeful.” I brush her lips with my thumb, feeling her tremble. “I didn’t think I could keep you. I’m still—” I glance down at the Fetters in her hand. “I’m still not sure it’s possible. I thought I could keep you safe by staying close. Instead, I’ve already gotten you kidnapped and placed in the crosshairs of the gods. It would have been better if I had left that day and never looked back.”

  “But you couldn’t,” she whispers.

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “I love you, Styx.” It�
��s not the first time she’s said it, but it’s the first time I’ve answered her.

  “I love you, too.” Her eyes widen. “Now, let’s go inside so you tie me to the bed before it’s too late and I take you right here and now.”

  She blinks, then nods once, grabbing my hand. “Okay, yeah, I . . . It’s going to be okay.” When she looks up at me, her gaze is fierce. “I promise.”

  20

  “Guess that wikiHow needs updating.”

  “Guess so,” he mutters in a strangled voice. “Be very still, Carly.”

  It’s not hard to obey. His body is pinning me to the bed, the hard, thick length of him pressing against me. I’m slick and wet, wetter than I’ve ever been and it feels good to have him there, but a tendril of fear uncoils inside me. He’s so big. And I’m not. I didn’t tie one of his hand securely enough, obviously. And now things have gotten …interesting.

  “Are you scared?” he breathes.

  I force a smile, but my lips feel suddenly numb. “Maybe you should be.”

  “Oh, I am.” He traces my lips with a finger, his eyes darkening. “I’m going to hurt you.”

  “Styx. Did you ever consider that when it comes to you, maybe I’m okay with a little pain?” Because the reward will be worth it; I have to hold on to that. I have to.

  He sucks in a breath. “Baby.”

  “Shh. Just do it. And Styx?”

  “Yes?” The word is guttural and low.

  “Don’t stop.” My look is fierce. “Promise me you won’t stop.”

  He closes his eyes, opens them again. My heart is pounding. Finally he nods once, his lips pressed so tightly together they’re pale at the edges.

  With his eyes on mine, he thrusts. Steady and slow. The muscles in his chest and arms thicken and roll under my hands. My back tries to come off the bed, but he holds me still as the thick weight of him starts to fill me.

  Oh. It does hurt. A stinging pressure that goes on and on. My stomach starts to knot. He’s too big, too hard and it’s all too much. My eyes fill with tears.

  “Carly,” he says softly. “Look at me.”