Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (47 page)

“What am I to you, Loke?” Arvid asked. She was terribly scared of the answer, but inside she was already numb with grief anyway.

Loke was silent for a moment, then he frowned. “You seem to expect a certain response.”

“I can only tell you how I feel,” she said flatly. “Like a toy. Like the toy of a cat, and this cat is you. You enjoy playing with me. But your games are cruel. You take pleasure in hurting me, but… someday… one of these games will kill me… no matter how hard you try to keep me from breaking.”

Again Loke remained silent. As Arvid looked at him she suddenly knew what she had to do. The thought was even worse than the pain she felt over Gyda and Hagen’s death, but she knew there was no other way, if she didn’t want to go under.

Byleist had been right. Loke was a hurricane, and his power so impressive, his vision so fascinating that Arvid was completely under his spell. But for too long she had just been standing there. She had come so close to him that he almost devoured her. It was about time she began to run.

It took all her willpower to withdraw  her hand from Loke. She pulled off the covers and got up, then she took a few steps into the room and stopped again.

“I want you to leave me alone, Loke,” she said in a trembling voice. “I want you… to stay away. Don’t try to touch me… or… kiss me. Never again. Never again, Loke, I… I don’t want… to talk to you… if it’s not necessary. I don’t want to see you. You are cruel. You’re constantly hurting me. You torture me… I just don’t want this pain anymore.”

Silence fell. Arvid just stood there and stared at the shelf in front of her that blurred behind a veil of tears. After a while she could hear how Loke rose and shortly afterwards stepped beside her.

“Does our trade still count?” he asked. His voice had changed, and Arvid noticed that he had taken the form of a giant again.

“Yes,” she said. She just wanted to go home. It was the only thing that ever should have mattered.

Loke said nothing. He simply turned around and left.

The Month of Never-ending Festivals

Several days went by, in which Arvid didn’t get to see Loke. He was not in their quarters, nor did she see him in other places in the fortress. There appeared no open books or unfinished sewings or embroideries in the rock niches anymore. When messengers with answers from the dwarven realm arrived, it was Byleist or Katta who informed Arvid about it. They couldn’t tell her where Loke had gone either. He had not told anyone where he was going and when he would return. Not even the guards at the gate had seen him leave.

Even though Arvid was still haunted by Gyda and Hagen’s death, she felt a little better. For so many months her joy had been smothered in dashed hopes and pain. Her irrational love for Loke had made her blind and deaf to all the voices that had been trying to warn her. She was here because Loke could bring her home. He was considerate of her, because she could help him reclaim Isvirndjellen’s lost lands, but she meant nothing to him.

Arvid again started to spend a lot of time reading books and regularly visiting the gardens, where she sometimes met dwarves, who were guests in the fortress. Quite often she was asked about her plans regarding the position of the human servants, and Arvid played along so self-confidently, as if these changes were her intention from the very beginning.

It was good to feel needed.

She spoke with Byleist, who promised her to take up this issue as soon as king Farbaute had returned from Borkh and had dealt with the missed urgencies. Her time here in Sölunnir, even in this world, was very limited. Maybe she had less than a year, but she was determined to use this time to do something good—even if it only was on a small scale.

One morning Arvid sat in the gardens and read. Loke had been gone for eight days. Although Arvid tried not to think about him, she wondered yet again where he was. Had he left for Asgard without telling anyone? His brothers thought it unlikely. Helblindi just said that Loke often retired, sometimes for several weeks, and then suddenly reappeared and acted as if nothing had happened.

As Arvid just turned another page, she perceived a movement from the corner of her eye. She lifted her head and saw a giantess heading straight towards her. It was Naal.

A queasy feeling spread through Arvid. Although Loke’s mother had treated her halfway decent in the past few days, especially when dwarves had been close, the atmosphere between them was still cool and tense.

Her breath for a greeting she also saved today.

“I don’t suppose my son has turned up yet?” she asked bluntly.

Arvid put down her book. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “Since the gods were here, I’ve not seen him anywhere.”

Naal snorted and then did something unexpected. She sat down on the stone bench beside Arvid and held an envelope under her nose.

“This letter has just arrived,” she said. “It’s for Loke, from his daughter Hel. The messenger said it’s urgent, but… well, Loke’s not here, right?”

Arvid hesitated, then took the letter from Naal and indecisively turned the envelope in her hands. It was of brownish paper and bore no seal. On the front Loke’s name was written.

“Why do you come to me?” she asked finally. “The letter is for Loke and… it’s none of my business.”

“He’s trained you well,” Naal noted pointedly. “No one should ever know anything about his life, right?” With an impatient movement she tugged the envelope from Arvid’s fingers and simply put it into her lap. “The message really is of great importance. It would be foolish to wait for Loke.”

Arvid understood Naal’s argument, but she had no desire to read Loke’s post. In fact, the sole emergence of this envelope woke feelings in her that she’d rather banish forever, and from which she had finally had some peace the past few days. She didn’t understand why Naal came to her anyway. Officially Arvid might be Loke’s wife, but after all, the old giantess had also ignored this fact so far.

“Why don’t you read it yourself?” said Arvid, reaching out to return the envelope to Naal. “You’re his mother. I’d… rather not have anything to do with it.”

“I would do it, if I could!” Naal said indignantly. “But I can’t. Do you think I would come to you otherwise?”

“Why can’t you?” said Arvid, slowly getting angry herself. At the same time she now opened the envelope anyway and pulled out a sheet of paper. Naal watched her with a sour expression.

She unfolded the paper and saw a blank page. Surprised, she turned it over, but the back was also completely empty. It seemed not to have come in contact with a single drop of ink.

“Whimsical, isn’t it?” asked Naal, but Arvid knew exactly what the secret of this message was.

“Move aside,” she asked her mother-in-law. “I heard giants dislike fire…”

Naal looked confused, then did as she was told. Arvid held out the paper and left the normal flow of time. Shortly after the handwritten message appeared, as the illusion of the paper dissolved and then reoccurred. It was ridiculously easy, and Arvid wondered how something like this ever had caused her trouble.

As the illusion flickered the next time, Arvid saw the misty cloud of resting energy. It was only a small amount, and as Arvid ignited it, she could watch the flames slowly spreading, swirling and eventually dying as twitching, orange tongues of fire.

She felt a hot, fiery breath when she returned to the normal flow of time. Next to her Naal gave a little scream. A small corner of the paper had caught fire, but Arvid simply blew it out and held the letter out for the old giantess.

“Now you can read it,” she said, in a strange way satisfied by the ease of her success. “You know how to read, don’t you?”

Naal looked at her sharply and then tore the paper out of her hand. Arvid had not read the message and had not intended to do so. But now that the short text was right in front of her, she did it nevertheless.

Loke,

I have the found the shard. Seek me out at once. It won’t withstand the stream for long.

Hel

Arvid didn’t know what this message meant, and she only had to look at Naal’s face to realize that she didn’t either. But this was not her affair. Whatever this letter meant, it didn’t concern her.

“Do you need anything else from me?” Arvid said with feigned politeness.

“You don’t know…”

“No,” Arvid interrupted her quickly. “I don’t know what the message is supposed to mean.”

Naal looked at her gloomily, then she nodded and rose to leave. Arvid had just picked up her book again, when the old giantess stopped again and turned back to her.

“Thanks,” she said, although it was obvious it cost her quite an effort. “You know, maybe… you’re not that much of a shame for our house after all.”

Arvid couldn’t manage to concentrate on reading anymore. Her thoughts inexorably kept wandering back to the letter. Eventually she realized that she couldn’t remember a single word of the last five pages she had read, and so she closed the book in an angry movement and threw it on the bench beside her.

Her anger was directed at herself. Had she not decided to stay away from everything that had to do with Loke? She would no longer serve as his toy and let him push her around like a piece on a chessboard. But if she didn’t distance herself from everything about him and his tangled life, he would always have a certain power over her.

This letter was such a thing. It came from Loke’s daughter and was addressed to Loke. This was not her affair. She simply had to stop thinking about it.

Arvid returned to her quarters, but there was nothing for her to do. Finally, she went to Loke’s study and began to tidy up. She collected parchment and paper, ordered books and sorted letters. She wrapped up scattered threads to small clews, picked up needles and fabric remnants and put everything in the large chest. She missed Loke terribly, and so she continued in the living room.

Several hours later she had sorted all the books by title, beaten furs and carpets, washed tables, chairs and shelves and picked up the clothes that had been scattered here and there. Eventually her feet and her back hurt so much, she exhaustedly sat down in one of the niches to rest. Of course, her thoughts went back to the letter again, and this time Arvid no longer resisted it.

Wasn’t it strange? The message sounded so insignificant and yet it seemed immensely important. Why else would Hel protect the letter with an illusion? It could only mean she didn’t want anyone else to know.

Yes, but what? They shouldn’t know she had found the shard. But what did she mean by that? A shard of what? And if this shard was so important to Loke, why didn’t Hel just bring it here? It wouldn’t withstand the stream for long, she had written. Was she referring to a river? Was it was already too late tomorrow? And what if Loke only returned in a few days?

Arvid forced herself to rest. She couldn’t do anything—no, she
wouldn’t
do anything.

When she turned to one side, she suddenly felt a sting on her hand and gave a little cry of pain. She quickly withdrew her hand, then she saw what had stung her. It was a needle. It was sticking out of a crumpled piece of fabric that was half buried under the skins.

Arvid looked at it and felt her heart beating faster. She knew what it was, even before she pulled out the cloth and gently unfolded it. It was the embroidered image of the farmhouse at the river, which Loke had completed ten days ago. He had worked on it the day he went away. A piece of the ornament, which would frame the picture later, was already visible, but more than half of it was still missing. The whole piece had been crumpled so firmly and ruthlessly that the stitches had come loose in one corner, and the wrinkles in the fabric wouldn’t disappear, even after Arvid had tried to flatten it with her hands several times.

She had to swallow when she saw that the white fabric had a dried bloodstain. Loke must have pressed it together with the needle and hurt himself, but she didn’t understand why he had done that.

Had he been angry? But Arvid knew Loke when he was angry. He would have expressed his anger openly. She looked at the picture, the house, the tower, all the small, colored details and remembered the story that Loke had told her.

I imagine that each thread conceals the scar a little more, and sometimes I feel better then
, he had said. Then she remembered something else, and the thought sent a cold shiver down her spine:
Grief makes me helpless.

The evening she had sent Loke away she thought her words had left him untouched. But what if this wasn’t true? Was it really possible that she had hurt him, and that his silence and his quiet retreat had been helplessness? At first glance, it was inconceivable. But Arvid had hurt Loke before without meaning to.

There was one thing Arvid had learned since she had come to Sölunnir: Someone that didn’t mean anything to you couldn’t hurt you. If you loved someone, however, each and every hurtful word was like a stab in your heart.

As Arvid came to the main gate shortly after, Byleist was about to see his mother off.

“Wait!” Arvid shouted, panting, because she had run the entire way. Byleist, Naal and the guards turned around with astonished faces.

“I’ll come with you,” Arvid gasped breathlessly as she arrived at them and slowed her pace. She was wrapped in cloak and gloves and had made Desrei hastily pack her provisions, even though she didn’t know how long her journey would be.

“That’s out of the question,” said Naal and measured Arvid with a hostile look. “Your life is tied to my son’s. I won’t allow you to put it in danger in any way.”

“Loke is already out there anyway,” Arvid said, “and in case you have forgotten, my life depends on his, just like his on mine.”

“That’s hardly the same thing,” snapped Naal. “Loke has great power. Power you could only dream of.”

“And you could only dream of the power I have,” Arvid retorted angrily. “I am a goddess! I could turn this gate to ashes while you’d still be trying to light a candle!”

“Stop!” Byleist interfered forcefully. “Arvid, do you even know where my mother is going?”

“To Hel,” said Arvid. “At least I hope so, because it may be of great importance that we visit her, since Loke can’t.”

“Now it’s suddenly ‘we’!” sneered Naal. “I don’t see why you even interfere. It is enough if one of us seeks out Hel. First you didn’t want anything to do with the letter. I almost had to beg you to take a look at it.”

“I know!” cried Arvid. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, you are right,” she said then, “I didn’t want to know what the letter said because… a week ago I swore myself to stay away from Loke and everything that has to do with him.”

“That would probably be better,” hissed Naal.

“Wait,” Byleist interfered again. “What do you mean, you wanted to stay away?”

Arvid hesitated. “I… asked him to leave me alone. Forever,” she said haltingly. “We had… a few problems. I rejected him and… I told him that… I wanted nothing more to do with him.”

Suddenly there was silence. Both Byleist and Naal looked at her silently. Arvid swallowed. She was not proud of what she had done, but what happened couldn’t be undone. She had been blinded by pain. She had been so blind that she had made the same mistake as the whole world out there that thought Loke wasn’t capable of any feelings except anger, hatred, malice and gloating.

“May I ask why you did that?” Byleist asked softly.

“It’s hard to explain,” Arvid said, and stared at the ground. “Sometimes he came to me, then he pushed me away again. It hurt and… I just had no more strength left for his games. I was… at the end. I was convinced that he couldn’t care less about me.”

“He does care about you,” replied Byleist excitedly. “You don’t know how he was before you came here.”

“How could I know?” Arvid asked, half desperate, half angry. “I’ve only known Loke—no, this whole world—for one year!”

“I know,” Byleist said, then he sighed deeply. “Then believe me when I tell you that he cares a lot about you.”

“I do,” whispered Arvid, “and I regret what I did. I just… can’t make it undone.”

Again there was silence, but then Byleist nodded, resigned. “I understand,” he said, then he turned to Naal. “She’s coming with you, Mother. You better hurry. I,” he turned to the castle gate, “will go looking for Loke with a few people.”

Arvid started. “Didn’t you say you don’t know where he is?”

“After what you’ve just told me, I believe I know. There is a place he visits when he’s feeling down.”

“Let us go then,” Naal said indignantly. “It’s getting late.”

“Wait,” Arvid said quickly.

Byleist, who had already turned away, stopped and looked at her questioningly.

“If you find Loke,” Arvid said, “then please tell him that I’m sorry… and that I love him.”

“If I find him,” Byleist said softly and smiled, “you should tell him yourself. From me it’s not worth much.”

The descent down to the Black Waters where Hel lived was long and exhausting. Naal told Arvid that they would arrive late and stay there for the night. Apart from a few words about their way, the old giantess was extremely taciturn.