Mist (45 page)

“By then it was under my control again.”

“Well, now I know you were lying when you suggested I wouldn’t pay a price for magic.”

“I had no idea what that price would be,” Dainn said.

She looked up at the sun as if it were some foreign object instead of a tool she had used in her battle with Loki. “I guess I’d better keep you around to tell me what I do next time I ‘lose myself in the magic.’ Just don’t try that particular tactic again, okay? It isn’t good for either one of us.”

“No,” Dainn said, closing his eyes.

Mist sighed. “What did happen with Freya? I felt her for a short time, and then she was gone.”

“She still lacked the physical presence to fight Loki effectively, regardless of her desire to protect you. He was able to send her away.”

“I hope she makes a little more progress soon. I don’t think I can keep this up much longer. Dainn, look at me.”

He obeyed her, and she gazed out of eyes as bruised as her body had been. “There’s one more thing I need to know. Before I stopped Loki, you bargained for my life.”

So, Dainn thought, it was to come at last. “Yes,” he said.

“You would have traded—” Her throat worked. “The things he said to you—”

“As if we had been lovers.”

She pressed her lips together, refusing to continue. Forcing him to tell her.

“We were,” he said harshly. “When he convinced me he was Freya in order to use me against the Aesir. He took on her shape. He learned my weaknesses and how to manipulate me. When I discovered his tricks, it was too late.”

“Then you
did
love Freya. Who you thought was Freya.”

“I believed I did.”

“You turned on him, but he . . .” She glanced at Dainn with an almost helpless expression. “He wants you back. He . . .
feels
something for you.”

“No. It is only submission he desires. He would have done the same to you if he had taken you.”

“And you’d have chosen that for me instead of an honorable death?”

“I had hoped—” He broke off, well knowing he could never tell Mist of his bargain to teach Loki the Alfar magic. He knew it could no longer be considered in effect. “You are too important to this world, Mist. I would go to Laufeyson again if I thought it would save Midgard.”

“Forget it.” She hopped off the motorcycle and strode to stand over him. “You hate him. You hate what he did to you. I’d never let you make that sacrifice. Not even for Midgard.”

“Perhaps it is not your choice.”

She turned and marched to the edge of the pier, glaring down into the cold gray water. “The beast is just waiting for another go at Loki. You
have
to stay away from him. You have to avoid any violence if you want to stay sane and not hurt innocent people. That means leaving the fighting to me, no matter what kind it is.”

“Would you not be better off without me?” he asked softly.

“Quit it with the whining,” she snapped. “You still have to teach me, remember?” She brushed a tendril of hair away from her lips. “Or is that too dangerous, too?”

Water slapped against the nearest piling, reminding Dainn of the small sea-magic he had used to send Loki his message. She was right. Even that could become deadly now.

“I can only know what is safe through trial and error,” he said, staring out at the increasing turbulence of water and sky.

She must have heard the despair in his voice, for she crouched near him again and reached out as if she might touch him. She didn’t.

“We’ll just have to be very careful,” she said.

“And you must set aside the Vanir magic for the time being. Once you have gained complete mastery of the Galdr, you will be ready to try it again.”

“But it
worked,
Dainn. I got rid of those Jotunar in the gym. I stopped Loki.”

And somehow, Dainn thought, it had given Freya full and apparently permanent access to Mist before Dainn had believed it possible. It had opened Mist’s mind, shattering all her unconscious defenses.

As long as Mist avoided such magic, Freya might be held at bay until Mist’s defenses were fully restored again. But when next the Lady spoke to him-—and she would undoubtedly do so very soon— she would have many questions.
She
was unlikely to have forgotten the kiss, and how it had restored Mist to her body. Unless he could convince Freya he’d had a very good reason . . .

Such worries were pointless now. There was no going back. There hadn’t been since he had chosen Mist over her mother.

“Your talent with the Runes can be developed to a level almost as powerful as the elemental magic you used today,” he said, “and with far less risk.”

“But—”

“Do you wish to lose your mind?”

Her face relaxed, and Dainn knew she was more relieved than she would ever admit. “Then we’re pretty much back where we started. Except now Loki
knows
I have power of my own.”

“No. I am certain his beliefs in that regard have not changed.”

“And Freya? She came when I called her, but I still can’t hear her.”

“She will contact me again when she is ready.”

“What did Loki mean when he said she’d never cared for anything or anyone she couldn’t use for her benefit or pleasure?” she asked. “I know she ignored me in Asgard, but—”

“Can you still doubt that Loki would employ any lie to increase his advantage, physical or psychological?” Dainn said. “Would he not try to plant suspicions in your mind at every turn?”

She met his gaze. “Did Freya think the beast would be a weapon for her all along?”

“I cannot believe so.”

“And what about this Eitr stuff Loki mentioned?”

Dainn had known he would have to explain about the game sooner or later, but now he could risk only part of the truth. “It is a particular power Freya is holding in reserve,” he said, “but she cannot risk spending it until there is no other choice. The price for wielding it could destroy Midgard. We must hope its use never becomes necessary.”

They both fell silent, intently studying everything but each other. A light snow began to fall, settling on Mist’s fair hair and lingering there like dew on ripe wheat. “At least we have Gungnir back,” she said after a long interval. “Where did you find it?”

“In a knife block.”

“And Loki’s supposed to be the clever one.”

“Cleverness does not preclude stupidity.” He shifted his weight, stretching cramped, aching muscles. “There is more to discuss, but perhaps we should be returning to the loft.”

She glanced toward the street, clogged with sluggish traffic as commuters struggled to negotiate icy pavement. “You’re right,” she said, sensible and pragmatic again. “I need to make sure the kids are safe. And Tashiro—”

“Vali said he would be no trouble.”

“I don’t think he will be. His memory is—” She broke off, flushing again. “He still wants to talk to Ryan, and maybe I can convince him to take Gabi away as well. We need to raise much better wards around the loft. And then we’re going to decide how I can help you with the beast without . . . without setting you off.”

Dainn held his peace. It would do no good to protest now, and he was too weary to think of an alternative.

“Skita,”
Mist said suddenly, snapping her fingers. “I forgot that I was supposed to call Vali. The Jotunar took my cell phone.”

“It is easily replaceable,” Dainn said.

“Unlike a lot of things.” She rose and returned to the motorcycle. “Let’s go home.”

22

They were halfway home when Mist realized they were being followed.

Dainn knew it, too. His arms tightened around her waist, and she could almost feel him pricking his ears as he looked over his shoulder. She wondered if he was using the beast’s superior senses or only the extremely good ones any elf was born with.

“See anything?” she said over the roar of the bike and surrounding traffic.

“Nothing,” Dainn said. “But I do not believe they are Jotunar.”

Maybe human minions, then. She hadn’t seen any of Loki’s mortal followers yet, but she was sure he’d already recruited a number of them by now.

“I’ll take some side roads and try to shake them,” she said.

The bike responded to her hand like her old Valkyrie steed. She veered and dodged down narrow streets and between apartment buildings, through the Mission District, Dolores Heights, and back around via Cesar Chavez Street.

“We aren’t shaking them, are we?” she asked Dainn.

“They are still following,” he said.

“I’m not taking them back to the loft.” She looked for a place public enough to discourage their pursuers from direct attack. If they looked as if they were going to try, she’d lead them away. She’d have to attempt the Galdr again, and she wondered how she was going to find the energy when she could barely keep the bike moving in a straight line.

“Whatever you do,” she said to Dainn, pulling over into a rare empty parking space along the curb, “leave any fighting to me.”

He didn’t answer, and she didn’t press him. They remained on the bike, watching and listening, but no one showed up. After about an hour, Mist decided they should try moving again. She pulled out of the parking space and drove as slowly as she could, choosing bigger streets as a test.

“They are gone,” Dainn said.

Expelling her breath, Mist turned for home. She stayed on the alert, but she was sure Dainn was right. Either they’d both been paranoid, or their pursuers had given up.

Still, she didn’t hurry. When she reached Third, she pulled over again to watch the nearly empty street. After another hour, she finally accepted that they were safe.

She rolled into the loft’s side driveway and dismounted. The place seemed quiet, every sound in the neighborhood muffled by the soft, heavy snow.

“Let me go in first,” she said.

Dainn gave her a long look, and she shrugged. They went in by the outside door to the gym.

It was empty, as Mist had expected. Dainn’s gaze swept over the room. He stood very still, as if the memory of what he had done there had assumed a physical presence that bound him as he had tried to bind the beast.

“You did very well,” he said.

She knew she should have been far more angry with him. He had no right to talk to her as if she needed his approval. But his praise felt like a rare and precious thing, a gift she couldn’t afford to accept.

It was also comfortingly mundane, as if everything had gone back to normal.

Maybe someday there would be a new kind of “normal.” But she wasn’t counting on it happening anytime soon.

They continued across the gym toward the door to the hall. Dainn stopped suddenly, tensing like a hound on the scent.

“Someone is in the house,” he said.

Mist reached for Kettlingr. “Who?”

“Vali. And the young mortals.”

“Nidhogg’s teeth! I told Vali to take them away!” She strode through the door and along the hall, narrowly avoiding a pair of very animated cats, and burst into the kitchen without giving the occupants a whisper of warning.

Vali shot out of his chair at the kitchen table, knocking it over. Gabi and Ryan looked up from their plates, Ryan with a sandwich suspended in midair. He dropped it, and his face lit with joy and relief.

“You’re back!” he said, rising almost as quickly as Vali had. “Are you okay?”

“It’s about time,” Gabi said with some asperity. “Did you get Loki?”

“We can discuss that later,” Mist said, staring at Vali. “I told you to get them away.”

Vali shoved his hands in his pockets like a boy who’d been caught playing with Mama’s swords. “I did,” he said, “but—”

“He got away from you.”

“Uh—”

“He’s very good at that.”

“The kid did say he had to be here when you came back.”

“I knew you would,” Ryan said softly. “Come back, I mean.”

“Did you have another seizure?” Mist asked him.

“Do you think we’d just be sitting here if he had?” Vali asked indignantly. He took a step toward her as if he would have liked to hug her. “You’re . . . you’re not hurt?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?”

“He—” Vali glanced furtively at Dainn, who seemed not to hear them. “He
was
going to kill Loki, wasn’t he?”

“That was his plan. It didn’t quite work out that way, but we got something out of Loki before we left.” She took Gungnir from inside her jacket.

“Hey,” Vali said, his open face breaking into a grin. “Good job, Mist. Wish I could have seen Loki’s face.”

Mist tucked Gungnir away again, remembering her promise to Vidarr. “Nothing’s really changed,” she said, her legs beginning to shake. “But Loki’s going to be a just a little more careful from now on, I think.”

Vali searched her eyes. “I believe it,” he said. “I’ve never seen you look this way before.”

I’ve never felt this way before,
Mist thought. “Magic has a way of changing a Valkyrie,” she said. She stared down at her scuffed boots. “I never wanted this, Val.”

“I know you didn’t,” he said, tentatively laying a broad hand on her shoulder. “I’ll always be here to help you, Mist. Whatever you need.”

“I know.” She smiled and covered his hand with hers. “Right now the first thing we have to do is reset the wards. I don’t know how much use Dain’ll be to us right now.”