Loki (13 page)

These were mere stories, but Tyr had witnessed the Thunderer’s strength in real battle, and he had never seen its equal. Thor was virtually a giant himself, and Tyr had seen him lay waste to entire armies. He had felt the earth shake with a stomp of his foot. The unleashed fury of Thor was a thing more frightening than all the armies of Niflheim.

He witnessed this unleashed fury as Mjolnir was hurled from Thor’s hand with a force that was unequaled throughout the Nine Worlds. As the giant staggered to his feet, the hammer hit him in the forehead with a resounding wave of force and continued through his head, only to emerge in an explosion of bone, blood, and brain on the opposite side. The giant’s head was jerked backwards as if someone pulled it with invisible strings, before snapping forward and sending his entire body sprawling after it. The crash of the giant’s body on the broken floor of Gladsheim shook Asgard.

Mjolnir flew back to Thor’s outstretched hand as he approached the downed giant. He had a look of grim satisfaction on his face as he strode around the massive body, Mjolnir gripped tightly at his side. Even in death the giant’s size was impressive. Its head was at least twice Thor’s height, and it almost seemed absurd to Tyr that the giant had been felled by something that was so much smaller.

The injured Aesir scattered throughout the hall slowly rose to their feet. Hundreds of Einherjar lay dead around them, some so badly mangled that Tyr could not imagine that they would rise again with the morn, or at least he hoped they would not. He could not imagine how such mangled and damaged beings could continue to exist, and they would certainly be useless in battle.

Tyr climbed down from the roof. His strength was returning and his wounds were healing quickly. He headed past the massive corpse to see Odin.

The Allfather was standing in the exact spot where the giant had pummeled him, looking only slightly weary. Dried blood encrusted his face, but all signs of injury were gone. One of the remaining Einherjar brought him his spear, Gungnir, torn from the stomach of the giant and still dripping with gore. He held it like a staff and surveyed the scene of the devastation around him, a look on his face that Tyr thought might even be grim amusement. But he could never fathom Odin’s thoughts, and he knew enough of his self-sacrifice to realize that Odin did not always exist completely in the present with the rest of them. He was often elsewhere, other times and places, while still physically anchored to the present. He probably knew that he would be struck down by the giant, but made no move to prevent it from happening. It was his way, Tyr thought, to know what would happen and to make no move to change events.

He ceased pondering the thought. No one could fathom the mind of the Allfather, and it was folly to try. It was enough to relish this hard-won victory, the defeat of an impossible enemy, although thoughts must eventually turn to how the mason had accomplished this feat, this trickery.

He had fooled all of the Aesir, where his true nature should have long ago been detected. It was unfathomable that the mason had fooled Heimdall, he who could hear the wool growing on sheep, who could feel the reverberations of crunching grass underneath the feet of a distant traveler. Once in Asgard, both Frey and Freyja had likewise been unable to pierce the veil of his disguise. The Vanir were well-known for their sorcerous abilities, and yet neither had seen the mason's true nature. It did not bode well that two of the Vanir could be so thoroughly fooled.

Tyr was also surprised that Loki could be tricked by the mason. And not only had he been fooled along with the rest of them, he had made the bargain possible by whispering advice to the High One. Tyr suddenly realized that he had seen no sign of Loki during the battle. As the wounded gods healed from their injuries, and the bodies of the dead Einherjar were taken from the hall, he confirmed that Loki had not been in Gladsheim while the mason attacked.

Balder would surely make much of his absence, and Tyr was not at all sure that he would argue the point. It was suspicious at best that the Sly One was not there at such a time. He wondered where he might be, and what words he might use to lessen the blame upon himself when he returned.

Chapter Eight

Thiazi looked away from the pool. The mason was dead, his brains scattered across Gladsheim. Even though Thiazi knew it would end in such a way, he was still surprised that they had bested the mason. After he flattened Odin, Thiazi had held out a small hope that the mason would not be killed, that he would destroy all the Aesir in Gladsheim, and then continue on a path of destruction across Asgard. He could easily envision the mason, with the hall crumbling around him as he grew even larger, absorbing the energy from the gods he had killed. He would go from there to crush Valaskjalf, Valhalla, and all the other halls of the gods, stomping the Einherjar and Valkyries into the dust on the way, while the Aesir could do nothing but rail against his assault. It was amusing to imagine, even if such an outcome was unlikely.

He had relished the looks on the faces of the Aesir. Even though he watched from Thrymheim, their expressions were no less satisfying than if he had been there to see them in person. Their fear was palpable, their hesitation in those last moments of his transformation speaking volumes.

But it was over, and the end result was as he knew it would be, despite the power of the giant. When Thiazi had seen the lightning that heralded Thor's return, he knew short work would be made of the mason. The hated Thunderer was the strongest being in the Nine Worlds, and nothing could stand against him.

But that would change soon enough.

The mason had fulfilled his role. He had caused the gods to feel fear, to worry about what may soon follow. If the giants could send one like the mason, could they send dozens? Hundreds? Such a threat could not be ignored, and Thiazi knew that it would not be. They would not send armies to Jotunheim—not yet, anyway. Some would argue for that course; Thor would be one of them, certainly. But Odin would not be persuaded to take rash action by his hot-headed son. He would want to know the threat first before committing to action. He would send one who he could be certain would not attack, one who would discover what needed to be discovered and then return.

And he would send him alone. That would be the key to their downfall, for once Thiazi had ensnared Loki, the eventual death of the gods would not be long in coming. The one-eyed one would think himself clever and cautious, but he would discover that even he could be outmaneuvered. As wise as he may be, he still failed to realize his most dangerous enemy had been in Asgard for ages.

At the foot of Bifrost, Heimdall could hear the steady sound of horse's hooves striking dirt. He had first heard the sound hours ago, as the animal made its way towards Asgard, led by a lone male traveler by the sound of his gait. At first he thought the man led two horses, but the hoof beats sounded odd. They were spaced too close together, as if one horse were nearly on top of the other. As the beast came closer, almost within sight, he realized that it was one horse, not two. But how to account for the multiple hoof beats? He wasn’t certain, and didn’t like to hazard guesses too soon.

He could first see two small specks coming toward him on Bifrost, one larger than the other. Soon enough he recognized them as man and horse, although he could not make out the particulars of either. The horse was large, but the awkward, unpracticed gait marked it as a foal. He smiled to himself when he realized why it had sounded like two horses, but his face quickly turned sour when he recognized who led the horse.

Half a stone’s throw away, Loki stopped short, weighing his welcome back onto Asgard. Heimdall folded his arms and stood at the edge of Bifrost, cutting an imposing figure. He was almost as large as Thor, well-built and powerful, and he was very nearly the perfect guardian for Bifrost, the only way to reach Asgard.

Loki took several more steps forward. “Am I still welcome here?”

Heimdall’s expression did not change. “That is not for me to decide.” It was clear to Loki that Heimdall did indeed wish it was for him to decide, and it was just as clear what the answer would be.

“
You think me at fault for the mason,” Loki said.

Heimdall did not answer.

“
Maybe you are right to blame me. It was on my advice that the Allfather accepted the bargain, and the mason's price as well.”

Heimdall's lip curled up. His hatred of Loki was legendary. “Do you seek to give me further reason to scorn you? There is no need. You can sink no lower in my estimation. A worm can only burrow so deep into the muck.”

“
You do me wrong. Look on Asgard and see the wall that now stands. When the giants march at Ragnarok, remember that the wall is there once more because I proposed the bargain. And the cost was nothing more than a few thunderbolts from Mjolnir.”

Heimdall sneered. “You risk much when it is not your own hide at stake. Where were you when the mason attacked?”

Loki ignored Heimdall's accusing tone. Much as he desired to explain what he had sacrificed, he knew that his role in defeating the mason could never be revealed. Savior of Freyja or not, they would kill him if they knew giant blood ran through his veins.

“
I am not here to argue. I seek only to bring this foal to Odin, as a gift.”

“
So that we can forget how you bargained with one of our hated enemies?” Heimdall narrowed his eyes at the horse. “Where did you get it?”

I birthed it myself after coupling with the mason's horse,
he thought. He would have relished the look on Heimdall's face, but that moment would be cut short when the guardian withdrew his sword.

“
It is the spawn of the mason's horse. It will be a fitting steed for the Allfather.” It was a partial truth, at least.

“
That explains little. Why does it have eight legs?” Heimdall's tone was laced with suspicion.

“
I didn't ask.”

Heimdall sneered. “Your mocking words will be your undoing one day.”

Exasperated, Loki abandoned any attempt at conciliation. He adopted Heimdall's tone instead, striking him where he knew it would hurt most. “You seem to have healed well from the battle. Perhaps you could tell me your role in slaying the mason?”

Heimdall's teeth gritted and he let his arms drop down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You know well enough that I could not leave Bifrost.”

“
Oh yes, there may have been some other danger.” Loki nodded in mock understanding. “And what threat did you repel while your comrades were being pounded into the floor of Gladsheim?”

Heimdall's quiet seething gave Loki some satisfaction, but not much. Mocking him only partially assuaged his irritation, but he took some solace in the fact that he had at least shut him up.

Heimdall took a step closer, hands still gripped tightly into fists. “I would not be surprised to discover that this was all your doing. Your schemes know no bounds. I honored my duty at Bifrost to keep Asgard safe from the likes of you.”

Loki shook his head. “Heimdall, you are ever the brilliant tactician. This lone foal and I did indeed plan to take over Asgard by force. Unfortunately, we could not realize our plan because of your unwavering duty.”

Heimdall glared at him.

“
Since my evil scheme to destroy all that is good has been thwarted, I suppose I will make my way to Gladsheim, unless you feel the need to draw your sword and end my terrible threat.” He paused, palms up in a gesture of supplication. “No? Then I suppose I'll abandon my evil plans for now. Maybe next time we meet I'll be leading an army of giants across Bifrost.”

Loki led the foal around Heimdall, who merely stood there. After a few dozen steps, he turned and looked back. “Are you certain that I am not a giant in disguise, Heimdall? I would hate for you to be fooled by the same trick twice.”

The guardian did not turn, but Loki could see the corded muscle on the back of his neck stand out with the strain of containing himself.

After Heimdall’s reaction, he knew he could expect no better from any of the others. They would see only what they wanted to see, and would fail to listen to any words to the contrary. Still, there was little choice but to face them. He would explain what he could, present his gift to the Allfather, and hope for the best.

He made his way to Gladsheim. The hall had been rebuilt since the attack, and from afar it looked as well-constructed and intact as it had ever been. Einherjar stared at him as he passed, but did not interfere. He was surprised to recognize the bald one who had threatened him months ago. The warrior stared at him blankly, but Loki ignored him as he led his gleaming white foal through the meandering streets of Asgard.

The massive wooden doors of Gladsheim slowly opened, and he entered the hall with the foal in tow. He walked confidently towards the Aesir seated around a large table near the front of the hall.

Odin was at the head of the table, and also seated were Tyr, Balder, Frey, and Thor. The other seats were empty. The remains of a large meal was scattered across the table and on the floor around them, and servants scurried to and fro cleaning up the mess.

Odin’s ravens squawked and flapped at Loki's approach. Odin looked up and brought the attention of the others who sent sour looks his way. They remained calm and seated, but Loki could see the anger and resentment. It was plain that they blamed him for the mason’s attack, and it was just as plain that they ignored the rebuilding of the wall and the saving of Freyja.