Loki’s face curdled. “An unpleasant one.”
“But, that must have been before you asked if I wanted to do this. I might have backed out.”
A breath of wind moved across the water. Little waves slapped the wooden hull of the boat. Loki tilted his head up and pulled a rope. The sail swung above us.
“Yes. Well. You didn’t back out, did you?”
I frowned. “I still don’t understand why you’re doing any of this.”
Loki sighed, and the first pale tendrils of dawn began to stretch across the sky behind him. The wind gusted again, more forcibly this time. The sail above my head stretched and filled. The little wooden boat creaked as it slid forward across the dark waters of Lake Amsvartnir.
“Of course you were going to come,” Loki said, raising his voice to be heard above the splash of the waves as we skimmed through the gloaming. “You’ve got no sense.”
“Excuse me?” I snapped.
Loki grinned. The wind pulled his hair back, snapping the long, red strands behind him. “You’re in love,” he said, as if that explained his earlier comment.
“Screw you,” I muttered.
Loki smiled at the sail above us as if he hadn’t heard my comment, which was probably for the best. Waves crashed over the bow of the boat; a trickle of cold water found its way through the fur and down the back of my neck. Water sloshed around my ankles, creeping up the hem of my dress, as dawn streaked the sky in brilliant bands of gold and pink, illuminating the rows of jagged black mountains that ringed the massive lake. Nothing else moved on the shore or the waters. As far as I could tell, we were the only living things in this entire Realm.
“You should eat something,” Loki said, breaking the stillness. “There’s food in the bow. Rest, if you can.”
I forced myself to mumble a thanks.
“Anytime,” Loki said, with a shrug. “Even if we survive this, chances are good it’s going to be the worst experience of your life.”
I reached for a canvas bag that had been shoved in the narrow bow and pulled out a hard loaf of bread. As I gnawed on the cold crust, hoping it would still the fluttering in my gut, I realized Loki still hadn’t answered my question. Why was he doing this? What did he expect out of us in return? I glanced up at the Lie-smith as he watched the sail swell with wind. For a moment, in the thickening light, his high cheekbones and brilliant, ice-blue eyes reminded me so much of Fenris that it hurt, like a shard of glass embedded in my chest.
But he wasn’t Fenris. Loki belonged to the world of the Æsir; he was the oath-brother of Óðinn, damn it. Everything in his Realm seemed to revolve around obligations and debts, promises and exchanges, deception and sheer, brutal strength. What was it Loki had just said about sending me to the world of dreams? I made a deal.
What kind of deal were Fenris and I making, working with the Lie-smith?
“You still haven’t told me why,” I said, forcing myself to speak above the hiss of the water.
“What’s that?”
Loki glanced distractedly at me as the lake rushed by beneath us. Brilliant tendrils of sunshine lit the world above his head; soon, the entire flaming orb would crest over the horizon.
“Why are you doing this? You’re risking your own life, and Sigyn, and your sons.” I cleared my throat, then pushed on. “What are you going to want in return?”
Loki laughed, but it came out as dark and cold as the water beneath the boat. “What do I want in return? Stars damn it, Sol Eriksen, what in the Nine Realms do you think this is?”
His pale eyes burned as they fixed mine. I flinched against the rough planks of the boat.
“You think you and Fenris have something I want? You think I’m going to start acting like Angrboða and demanding your unborn child?” Loki turned and spat over the side of the boat. “Fuck you.”
He fell silent. The smile had vanished from his face, which was now as carefully composed as a mask. The sun broke over the horizon, gilding the waves. Loki squinted at the light and tugged on the tiller, turning the little boat slightly toward the west.
“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I just—You’re taking such a big risk.”
“It’s only a risk if we get caught,” Loki replied.
One of the twins stirred inside me, and I ran my hand along the fur, smoothing the bulge of my stomach. Loki sighed, then pulled his hand through the long tangles of his hair. In the brilliant light of the direct sun, that hair burned like the fire in Thrym’s caves.
“Don’t worry about Sigyn,” Loki said, in a softer voice. “She’s very capable. As are Nari and Vali. And so are you, for the record.”
I dropped my eyes to the water sloshing around my ankles. The words I’d spoke earlier burned in the air between us, and I wished I could swallow them again.
“Maybe, when you have your own child, you’ll understand why I’m doing this,” Loki finished.
I shrank into the ice bear fur as if it could absorb the weight of the guilt pushing down on me. I’d spent my entire life ignored or disdained, and then I’d come to Asgard to face treachery and deceit.
Nothing in my past had prepared for kindness.
“HOLD ON,” LOKI ANNOUNCED, after we’d spent the morning slicing across the black waters of Lake Amsvartnir in more or less awkward silence.
I looked up from my nest in the furs, but saw nothing. The water around us was as flat and featureless as it had been since we arrived. No matter how much I strained my eyes against the shimmering expanse, I’d seen no islands. But now Loki was turning the little boat toward the wind until the sail luffed loudly.
“What—” I began.
The hull hit something. I flew forward, smacking my head loudly against the wooden bow. I sat up, wincing at the sharp pain in my skull, and looked around. Nothing. I pressed my fingers to my scalp and pulled them away, relieved to find no blood.
Loki raised his hand and moved his fingers in some intricate pattern.
“Go on,” he whispered, waving at the front of the boat.
I turned to find a spit of black rock had just appeared in the featureless lake. Fear rose inside me. Was Loki still upset over what I’d said? Was he planning on abandoning me in the middle of the lake?
“Go!” he hissed.
I climbed awkwardly to my feet and pulled the fur around my shoulders as the boat rocked beneath me. Bracing myself against the rough wood, I threw my leg over the side. I half expected the ground to vanish before me, but my toes met the cold solidity of stone. I backed away from the boat, watching to see if Loki was about to cast off. Instead, he jumped out in a smoothly fluid motion which put my awkward clambering to shame. And the boat vanished. I gasped.
“It’s not gone for good,” Loki said, with a grin. “Just hidden. Still, I have to admit, it is pretty impressive.”
He raised his palm, pulled at something—
—And the island snapped into place around us. I raised my hand to my mouth to smother my cry of astonishment. There were the jagged black rocks. The charred remains of a torch lay at my feet, and the harsh rasp of heavy breathing echoed across the stones.
Breathing.
Slowly, as though my entire body were encased in ice, I turned toward the far side of the island. My heartbeat felt heavy and solemn, and every stone on the thrice-damned island seemed to stand out, highlighted in the unforgiving light of the morning, brilliant and indomitable with their crowns of hoarfrost. Frost from breath, I slowly realized. The breath of a great, massive beast.
A monster who still lived.
Oh, stars! The shock of it washed over me like the bitter cold of the lake after Týr pulled me under. What I’d taken for the far side of the island was not black and broken stone.
It was Fenris.
His massive body lay half submerged in the water and crossed with the nearly invisible strands of Gleipnir. As I watched, his black bulk rose and fell slowly as the hiss of his breathing filled the air around us. I turned again, following the bristling co
ntours of his prone body, and I saw the bone-white swords of Fenris’s teeth gleam against the horizon. The sword which had been thrust into his mouth glinted malevolently in the sun, its brilliance only somewhat marred by the black and hardened blood which streaked the blade.
I didn’t realize I’d moved until Loki’s hand clamped around my arm.
“No,” he whispered. “I’ll talk to him first. Seeing you would only be—”
“It’s about damned time,” a woman snapped from behind us.
I jumped and spun around to see Angrboða standing where we’d left the boat, her hands on her hips, her generous curves barely covered by a long, brilliant white dress.
“I thought you were going to stand me up, Lie-smith,” she said, with a flawless smile.
“Is everything ready?” Loki asked.
“You know, you should be showering me with praise,” Angrboða continued, ignoring him. “For me to do something like this in my current, delicate condition.”
She pressed her hands against her flat, white clad stomach. My gut roiled. Oh, by the Realms. I guessed Loki had come through with his part of the bargain after all.
“I expect you’ll survive,” Loki growled. “You haven’t tried to talk to him, have you?”
Angrboða rolled her eyes. “Not for the past several decades, no.”
“And the island is hidden?” Loki pressed.
Angrboða’s kohl-smudged eyelids narrowed. “Are you doubting my ability?”
“Just answer the damn question!” he snapped.
“Yes,” Angrboða replied, tossing her raven hair. “The island is completely hidden. It might as well have been wiped off the face of the Nine Realms. And your little... friend thinks he’s still in my palace.”
“Good.” Loki’s face tightened, and he looked as if he were in pain. “Thank you.”
Angrboða’s lips curved. “You’re quite welcome.”
“Let me talk to Fenris,” Loki said, turning to me. “Stay here.”
I nodded, unable to tear my eyes off the slow rise and fall of Fenris’s teeth as he breathed.
“Don’t be stupid,” Angrboða interjected.
“Excuse me?” Loki said.
“Don’t. Be. Stupid,” Angrboða answered, enunciating each word with painful clarity. “Fenris hates you, Loki, darling.” She lowered her dark eyelids at Loki in an expression of disturbing sensuality. “Take the girl with you, you bloody idiot. Remind him of his reason for losing the wolf.”
I blinked as the strange logic of Angrboða’s words sank in. Loki frowned, looking for a moment almost like his son.
“But, if Fenris sees Sol and thinks she’s been caught—”
“Well, tell him she hasn’t been caught. Honestly! It’s like I have to think of everything here.”
Loki’s jaw tensed. He turned back to me. “Sol. Care to accompany me?”
“Please,” I managed to say.
Loki took my hand. Together we picked our way across the ice-slick stones until we stood before Fenris’s open jaw. His muzzle was flecked with blood and foam. His eyes were squeezed shut, almost as if he were trying to block out the light of the rising sun.
“Fenris!” Loki called. His voice was so loud that I flinched.
Fenris’s jaw trembled. His breath stopped. My hands clenched at my side until the bite of my nails into my palms became painful. Fenris exhaled slowly, and his jaw sank back to the stones. His eyes remained shut.
“Fenris!” Loki called again. “It’s your father!”
No response. His breath wheezed over the stones. We were close enough now to see the paths great tears had cut across the fur of his muzzle.
“Sol is here,” Loki said, almost conversationally.
Fenris’s entire body seized. The water roiled around us, stones screamed and rattled, and his great jaw rose into the sky. His eyes opened, revealing pale irises shot with red. A low, pained moan came from between his jaws; fresh blood began to course down the gleaming steel blade between his teeth.
“Don’t!” Loki called.
Fenris froze.
“Blink twice if you can understand me,” Loki said.
Slowly, Fenris closed his pale eyes. Once. Twice.
“Good. Now, Fenris, we have a plan. We can rescue you.”
Fenris shifted. Stones scraped against each other beneath his paws. Loki raised a hand in the air, motioning for silence.
“But. It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker, and it might kill you. Do you understand?”
The pale light of Fenris’s eyes vanished beneath his dark lids. Once. Twice.
“If the plan works—and that’s a big if—you’re going to lose the wolf form. The wolf will stay here, on this island. You will leave. Understand?”
I met Fenris’s eyes, waiting for them to close. He hesitated. A low whine shook the ground around us. Blood and saliva fell from his open mouth.
“I’m not asking you to agree to it. Just, do you understand the plan?”
Fenris lowered his jaw. His great eyes closed. Once. Twice.
“Good. Okay, then. If I do this, you might die. Or, you might leave this island, go home with your wife, and raise your children in peace.”
Fenris’s gaze shifted, falling on me. His eyes widened. The light caught the shimmer of tears pooling beneath his thick lashes. Without thinking, I stumbled across the stones until I touched the thick fur of his shoulder.
He felt warm beneath my hands. I fell against him, breathing in his scent, pressing my entire body to him. His heartbeat thudded beneath his skin, and his muscles tensed at my touch.
“Stars, I’ve missed you,” I choked.
He cried above me, a high, pained whimper.
Loki cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve gotten that sorted out. Fenris, do you want me to pull you from your wolf form and take you off this stars damned island?”
I turned to meet Fenris’s eyes and held my breath. He pointed his head toward the sky, and his brow furrowed in an expression so familiar it made my heart ache. I knotted my hands in his fur, as if I could pull my husband free by myself.
“Please,” I whispered. “Fenris, my love. Please.”
He turned to look directly at me, and the tears fell from his eyes, splashing at our feet. He closed his great, black lids. Opened them. And then, with a massive sigh, he closed his eyes a second time.
Loki stretched his neck and flexed his arms. “Good. Very good. Fenris, we’ll begin in a minute. Try to sleep, if you can. Sol, with me.”
Slowly, I untangled my hands from Fenris’s thick pelt. Loki’s words rang through my mind. This could kill you.
My vision blurred with tears as I stepped back, and only Loki’s arm on mine kept me from stumbling on the rocks. Numbly, I let him lead me over the stones, back to the spot where the boat had vanished.
Back to where Angrboða waited.
THE MONSTER FREED: CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Angrboða stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her brilliant white dress blazing in the light.
“Well?” she asked.
“He agreed,” Loki said, his voice flat.
“And not because of you,” Angrboða replied. A little half-smile curved her blood red lips. The expression was oddly reminiscent of Fenris.
Loki sighed. “No. Not because of me.” He ran his hands through his hair, then shook his head as if he were trying to be rid of something. “Let’s get started. If you would be so kind as to show me to Ratatoskr, my dear, I’d be forever indebted.”
I watched Angrboða to see if she sensed the thick layers of sarcasm dripping off Loki’s words, but she didn’t seem affected. Instead, she gave a little bow and waved her long fingers in the frosty air.
A door appeared. After all I’d seen since Fenris and I traveled the Æsir’s legendary Bifröst to the fabled shores of Asgard, a solid wooden door blinking into existence on an island of stones in the middle of a desolate lake really shouldn’t have bothered me. But I still flinched as reality s
hifted around me, and the sudden urge to run rose up inside me with the force of a large, half-crazed, wild animal panicking against its tethers.
Sinking my fingers deep into the fur I’d pulled across my shoulders, I forced myself to breath. Angrboða opened the door, then waved into the darkness beyond.
“I’ll wait here,” she said, her tone clipped and courteous.
Loki entered the door, then turned back to see if I’d followed. Swallowing the incessant drumming of my own heart, I stepped across the threshold.
And I found myself in an elegantly appointed room, with large, open windows. A cool breeze swirled the scent of fresh flowers through the open, sunlit space.
“Ah, Loki, you bastard!” someone called, their voice almost a chuckle.
“Ratatoskr,” Loki replied. “Always a pleasure.”
Loki fell to one knee in front of a couch. I followed his gaze, then recoiled as a brilliant bolt of disgust surged through me. There, on the plush velvet cushions, was an enormous rodent. He was sleek and black, and as large as a beaver. He sat like a man, with one arm on an embroidered silken pillow.
“Do you have it?” the creature asked.
“Of course.”
Loki reached into the folds of his heavy cape and pulled out a small, translucent vial. Inside, something thick and oily gave off a faint light. The rodent creature reached for the bottle, but Loki pulled it away from his grasp.
“You go first, my old friend,” Loki said.
The creature chirped in annoyance. A long, bushy tail twitched above his head. “We’re friends now?”
Loki didn’t respond, and the creature turned to me.
“What’d you think of that?” it said. “Me and the Lie-smith. Friends.”
I smiled politely. My skin crawled beneath the fur clenched around my shoulders. We’d found a nest of squirrels once in the barn, and I’d helped Da and Egren clean it out. The damned beasts had fouled the heifer’s winter oats. I still remembered the scent of their shit and piss as we hauled their wreckage outside to burn. Ever since that day, I’d had little tolerance for the creatures.
The Complete Fenris Series Page 59