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He hung up, made another quick call, and tried to relax on the couch. The news personalities on television were still jabbering on about the protest and how remarkable it was that it had ended with no casualties of any kind. Reporters were shown interviewing people who claimed to have been mere “observers,” but none of them could account for what had happened.

It was possible, Loki mused, that Freya had fomented the protest merely to lay a trap for Mist, knowing that her daughter would inevitably become involved and might leave herself vulnerable as she attempted to stop it.

Irritated by the lack of information, Loki turned on the hastily repaired monitor in the living room to watch Miss Jones prepare Danny for sleep. The boy showed no sign that he remembered what he had done, and Fenrir was now confined to an isolated area of the house, where he wasn’t apt to make any trouble. No one, not even Loki’s most trusted servants, knew of his arrival, and Loki wasn’t inclined to let Danny and the Wolf meet again until he knew what had triggered the boy’s welcome but unexpected behavior.

As for Dainn … everything had changed. Again. Loki had watched the beast return to life suddenly and unexpectedly, between one heartbeat and the next—still trapped in an elven shape, but very near to breaking free.

That didn’t mean that Dainn couldn’t be of great help in taking Sleipnir. In fact, he might be far more useful than Loki had anticipated. It seemed that several disparate goals were converging all at once, and Loki intended to take full advantage of the possibilities.

He was still considering the next step when Nicholas informed him that Edvard was on the way up. The
berserkr
gave a slight nod as he walked into the room—the most respect Loki ever received from him—and seated himself in one of the armchairs without asking permission.

Unfortunately, the man was necessary as long as he possessed the herb that “controlled” Dainn’s beast … a substance Loki had been unable to reproduce by conventional or magical means. During the time when he had ostensibly worked for Mist’s Sister Valkyrie, Bryn, Edvard had offered the stuff to Dainn when the elf had been desperate to rid himself of his darker half. For a while, it had seemed to ameliorate the beast’s savagery.

Until Dainn had consumed the last of his portion in a final, desperate attempt to destroy the beast. And along with it, his elven magic.

But whatever had become of Dainn’s magical gifts, his bestial half wasn’t really dead. And since Edvard had come to Loki, the mixture had been used to keep it out of sight and out of mind.
Dainn’s
mind.

“You said it was urgent,” Edvard said, scratching at the scruff of his week-old beard.

“It is,” Loki said tightly. “Dainn’s beast has broken through.”

“Oh?” Edvard raised a shaggy brow. “Well, we knew that might happen.”

“It happened in front of Danny.”

“Bad timing. The herb acts like a drug, and you’ve been dosing him for months. He was bound to develop resistance sooner or later.”

Loki examined the bear man with distaste. “I believe that Dainn’s fear for the Sow’s daughter triggered its resurrection.”

“Mist?” the
berserkr
asked. “What’s happened to her?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Loki said. “How much of the herb do you have left?”

“Depends on what you want.” Edvard eyed him thoughtfully. “You sound pretty pissed off, but you’re not as mad as you make out. Why is that?”

“I will tolerate a certain amount of impertinence from you,” Loki said, “but not insolence.” He brushed off his sleeve, as if the bear man had shed on his eight-thousand-dollar suit. “It may be that the timing is not so bad after all.”

“Oh, so you can use the beast now? As a weapon?” Edvard shrugged at Loki’s glare. “It’s the obvious reason you’d keep that part of him alive instead of finding a way to destroy it.”

“And likely destroy Dainn as well. No, I want it to remain under my control.”

“Has he regained his magic as well?”

“The elf-magic?” Loki said. “No. But if it returns, he may attempt to hide it. I will know.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch. “Regardless of his magical status, I wish to present the creature as the entertainment at a very special event in two days’ time.”

“O-kay.” Edvard dropped his chin to his burly chest. “It’ll take a bit of finessing to make sure he’s ready by then, but since he’s already breaking free of the herb’s influence, it can probably be done … if you’re willing to take some risks.”

“Such as?”

“First, stopping the herb cold turkey—completely cutting it out of the food you’ve been giving him—could do one of several things: kill him, make him too sick to move, destroy his mind … or, if you’re lucky, release the beast without either one of you losing complete control of it.”

“What are the odds?”

“No way of knowing. But he’s strong. If you’re lucky, you might be able to use small doses of the herb to help keep the beast in check. But it’ll be pretty hard to do that without telling him what you’ve been doing to him.”

“I don’t need your advice on how to handle my elf,” Loki said, dropping onto the couch. He continued to explain his plans for Dainn, and Edvard’s eyes widened in the first real expression he’d shown in the past fifteen minutes.

“That’s a little more complicated,” the
berserkr
said. “But maybe your magic will be enough, if you work with the herb when you create your spells. I suggest you halve the dosage tonight. Tomorrow—”

“I will want instructions, as precise as you can make them, ready by tomorrow morning. You will remain here in the house to assist me for the next two days.”

“Just so long as I don’t have to see him.”

“Ashamed?” Loki said, flashing his teeth. “Or just afraid he’ll kill you?”

“I told you that giving him the drug when I rode with Bryn was a test to see if he was worthy. He failed. There was nothing personal about it.”

“He may not see it that way, especially since you have decided that I will benefit your people more than Mist and Freya will.”

The
berserkr
heaved himself to his feet. “If that’s all for now…”

“Speak to Nicholas on the way out. He’ll arrange quarters for you here until this experiment is complete. Oh, and one more thing.”

Edvard stopped halfway to the door. “What?”

“You will personally attend the event I have arranged.”

“Why?”

“You are involved in this up to your hairy neck,” Loki said. “It’s only right that you should be there to share my triumph.”

Edvard swallowed and looked longingly at the door. “It’s really not necessary. I’m sure you—”

“You
will
be there.”

Three soft knocks announced the arrival of Scarlet, dressed as usual in her tight and very short skirt, open blouse, and spike heels. She ambulated into the room and inclined her head.

“My lord,” she said, “Vali is here.”

“Send him in,” Loki said, sitting up quickly. “You can go,” he said to Edvard, who shuffled out of the room much less impassively than he had entered it. Vali was looking over his shoulder as he passed through the door.

“Well?” Loki said.

“I saw Vidarr while I was at the plaza,” Vali said, his broad, blunt features more than a little pinched.

Loki shot up from the couch. “Where was he?”

“Heading north on Powell Street, right after the protest.”

“You told me he’d fled!”

“I thought he had, after that beating you gave him. He sure never contacted
me
.”

“Did you follow him?”

“For a while. Then he just … vanished.”

“Vanished, as in magically?”

“Looked that way.”

After Edvard’s provoking behavior, Vali’s phlegmatic attitude was beginning to tell on Loki’s patience. “Do you believe that Vidarr had something to do with the protest?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But unless he’s really been practicing up on his skills, I don’t think he could control a whole mob of mortals that way.”

Vali was right, Loki thought. Vidarr had once been a powerful god in his own right. But centuries among mortals had blunted his abilities, and he’d been helpless against Loki after he’d attempted to claim Dainn to satisfy his own desire for revenge.

No. That Vidarr had been present near the plaza was no coincidence, but he hadn’t caused the problem by himself. If he’d been hiding in San Francisco all along, he’d certainly have been aware of the web Loki had been spinning across the city, and he was just smart enough to realize what would happen if he interfered.

His desire for vengeance would go unfulfilled, unless he had help.

Unless he serves a greater enemy
.

But that wasn’t possible. Odin’s messenger had never been found again. And the Aesir were still safely tucked away in the Void.

“Listen well, Odin’s son,” Loki said. “If you have any doubts about our agreement, or hold any lingering loyalty toward your brother or father, you will be of no use to me.”

“Mist would never take me back,” Vali said, shifting from one big, booted foot to the other like a child called to account before his elders.

“But ‘neutral’ is not an acceptable position,” Loki said.

“I know that.” Vali glanced at the ground and then met Loki’s gaze. “Nothing’s changed. You offered me a chance to be something more than a tool of the Aesir and my brother’s lackey. If you stick to your part of the deal, that won’t ever happen again.”

“Oh, I intend to stick to it. But I won’t hesitate to act lethally if I sense you might renege.”

“You got nothing to worry about.”

“Excellent.” Loki rose and returned to the stairs. “It is time to make another move against Freya and her allies.”

10

Anna rolled over to look at her watch, lying on the crate that served as a bed table. For a moment, her vision was blurred … not by sleep, but by that sense she’d had for so much of her life: that she was looking through someone else’s eyes.

Oddly enough, she hadn’t felt that way nearly so much since she’d met with Orn again. She couldn’t really remember most of the conversation, except that he’d given her three tasks: to touch the two Treasures, to locate Sleipnir, and to watch Freya.

Mist, too,
she thought, yawning in an attempt to clear her head. But she knew that Mist would never betray the All-father. Just like
she
wouldn’t.

She turned her head to look at Hrolf. The elf’s unusually pale hair was spread across his pillow with a natural kind of artistry, making her want to run her fingers through it again. One arm was draped over his head, the other across his chest, his wrist covering the mark Anna’s hand had made.

Even with all the elven-magic Hrolf possessed, not to mention his extremely keen vision, he hadn’t been able to see it. The design of interlocked Rune-staves Orn had pecked into her hand had transferred perfectly and painlessly to the elf’s flesh.

She leaned over Hrolf’s face to kiss him. He stirred with a low groan of contentment, and she felt a renewed sense of wonder that she was lying in bed with a being who shouldn’t have looked twice at a little brown mouse like her.

And that hadn’t even been part of the spell, though it could have been. She could have used the Runes to get him interested, the same way she’d tried to make him tell her where Sleipnir was hidden. But he’d responded to her overtures willingly, and it hadn’t really mattered to her at the time if he wanted
her
or just the sex.

I don’t want to do this,
she argued with herself.
I don’t want to use him, just as a means to an end
.

But Orn had called her his Valkyrie. And Valkyrie didn’t give up.

Hrolf opened his eyes and stretched, his arm sliding off the invisible brand.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I kept having the same dream, over and over again.”

“About what?” he said, beginning to sit up.

“About Sleipnir,” she said.

His expression grew guarded. “In what sense?” he asked.

She pushed him back down and draped herself across him, tucking her head under his chin, and traced the staves on his chest with her fingertip. “Orn was trying to tell me something about Odin’s horse … that there’s a secret hidden inside him that could make all the difference in the war.”

“But Orn is gone.”

“Before he disappeared, we believed that he was sent with a message from Odin. Maybe a part of me glimpsed what he was trying to tell us, and now it’s coming back to me in my dreams.”

The elf’s frown deepened. “But you cannot define this message?”

“I know it’s important, Hrolf.” She took a deep breath and propped herself up to look into the elf’s face. “I just keep thinking that Orn knew Sleipnir was going to be found soon, and that I was supposed to … I don’t know, find out if the horse had a message for me.”

“Sleipnir cannot speak.”

“But I know that I have to see him to understand the dream.” She traced the staves again and again. “What if there is a way of communicating with Sleipnir, and he knows how to get in touch with Odin himself?”

The elf began to shake his head, but he never completed the motion. His eyes drifted half-closed, and his muscles went limp.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Where would be the harm?”

“You know I’d never tell anyone,” she said, kissing him again.

Suddenly he reared up, pushing her back, and stared into her eyes. “No,” he said. “It is not possible.”

Cold anger stiffened her body. “I serve the All-father,” she said. “And all the Aesir and Vanir, including Freya, serve
him
. If you serve Freya, you must do as Odin commands.”

“Odin is not here,” Hrolf said, rising lithely to stand over her. “And until I receive orders to the contrary, I cannot tell you where Sleipnir is hidden.” He tugged on his pants. “I have neglected my duties too long.”

With short, almost angry jerks, he pulled on his pants and shoes and slipped away. Anna stared after him, shamed by her failure. A failure Mist would never have permitted herself.