Loki (24 page)

“
Bring he . . .”

“
of the single . . .”

“
wolf-joint . . .”

Balder’s mind spun, trying to grasp the meaning of the Norns' message. Balder had not heard that expression before.

“
Who is he of the wolf-joint?”

“
You . . .”

“
will . . .”

“
know . . .”

He clenched his jaw.
Damn these witches,
he thought. Who were they to thwart the will of Asgard? And yet what could he do but unravel their riddles? Odin had sent him here for advice on what should be done about Loki's children, but they revealed next to nothing. Besides, what did he need advice for? He knew what should be done, but his father did not want the Aesir to go to war with the giants yet.
It is not yet time,
he had said, but he had revealed nothing further.

“
You must tell me more.” He tried to keep the irritation from his voice. The mist shapes swayed, but remained in place. He took a hesitant step forward, and they collapsed upon themselves, losing all coherence and drifting to the ground.

“
Your fame will . . .”

“
wane in life and . . “

“
wax in death, only . . .”

“
to wane and wax . . .”

“
once more upon . . .”

“
the Ash . . .”

He waited for further communication, but the Norns were silent. After a time, he turned and headed back out the way he had come. He did not know the exact meaning of the Norns’ words, but he would not wait till all the riddles were unraveled before he struck out for Jotunheim and sought out Loki’s children.

Chapter Fifteen

Sleipnir's back looked only wide enough for one rider, but Balder, Frey and Tyr discovered that there was ample room as they mounted the strange horse. He would take them, Odin had said, in between the Nine Worlds, but they were unprepared for the bizarre journey.

Sleipnir had taken off much as any other horse, although the gods were impressed with his speed and obvious strength. Odin's steed galloped with little effort, and the three gods felt no slackening of pace as he continued. Before they left the Nine Worlds completely, they marveled at the unearthly rate of speed the horse had attained.

Then Asgard faded. In its place was only a blankness. It was as if they had been struck blind, but they could still clearly see Sleipnir beneath them, the muscles on his back and neck rippling as he continued pounding his eight powerful legs on no surface whatsoever.

Shadows slowly became visible, and they thought they could detect a mountain range looming over them while grass and dirt materialized under Sleipnir's hooves. They passed by shadows of enormous structures with large figures scattered about.

They knew this place. They had been here many times, although it was always with swords flashing. This was Jotunheim, the land of their ancient enemies, the giants.

Sleipnir did not slow down, and they moved far too fast for any of the giants to even notice them. A few heads turned, but it was only to marvel at the unknown thing that raced past. With astounding speed, they crossed through Jotunheim's villages and towns, their ultimate goal somewhere ahead.

The sheer face of a mountain lie ahead, directly in their path, but Sleipnir did not stop or even slow. They had little time to fear the collision before they hit the wall and went through it as if there was nothing there.

Sleipnir slowed drastically, and the world jerked back into view.

They were in a tall chamber that had been carved from the rock of the mountain. It was lit by torchlight, and several corridors led deeper into the keep. They dismounted, and Sleipnir faded, leaving the three alone in the large room.

“
He will return when we have the children,” Balder said.

Tyr nodded, looking around at the oversized dimensions of the room, the tables that were above their heads, the bowls large enough for them to bathe in.

Frey said, “I have never seen giants as existing anywhere other than the battlefield. It is strange to be in one of their halls and see such . . . normalcy.”

Balder said, “Yes, I had not considered them sitting at a table and eating a meal. But we are not likely to be invited to dine if we are caught. We had best be swift. Can we be seen?”

Instead of answering, Frey closed his eyes and chanted while his fingers drew runes in the air. Blue-white letters glowed briefly, hovering before them, and then faded.

“
We are mostly unseen.”

“
What does that mean?” Tyr asked.

“
If we stay to the walls and are quiet, we will not be noticed. Anyone who looks at us directly will likely see us, so we should take care to avoid that. Any confrontations or loud noises will allow us to be seen.”

“
What if we encounter giants?” Tyr asked.

Balder replied, “My father said to avoid any fighting unless there was no other way. We are to find Loki's children and return with them—unharmed—to Asgard.”

He remembered the oddness of the conversation. Odin had spoken, and then suddenly had seen something else beyond view.

When you exit the Ash, you will live again,
he had chanted. Balder was unnerved, but Odin would not respond to his questions or explain what he meant.

“
And if we encounter Loki?” Tyr asked.

Balder brought himself back to the present. “We will not see him.”

The three made their way through the winding corridors of the mountain keep. Occasionally they saw giants, but they were not detected. Still, they were awed at the size of these creatures as they walked past. They had met giants many times on the battlefield, but to be so close, to be able to observe them nearby, was unusual.

Frey led them to a large door, the handle just slightly above his head.

“
They are here with one other.”

“
Who?” Tyr asked.

“
Their mother.”

Balder nodded, realizing that this would be difficult. He did not relish attacking a female, even if she was a giant, but was not sure of how they were going to take the children without harming her. For a brief instant he wished that Loki was there; he would be able to craft a scheme that would get the children without any fighting. He half-smiled to himself when he realized again whose children they were.

Tyr asked, “If we open the door, will she see us?”

Frey said, “It is difficult to tell. If she is looking in that direction, then it is likely she will. If her attention is diverted, then perhaps not.”

“
Is there any way to tell before we enter?”

“
Not now. We are too far from Vanaheim for me to work any other spells.”

Balder said, “Then we go in slowly, and hope that we do not draw her attention.”

He reached up and grasped the handle, pulling it down slowly and as silently as possible. The door swung inward and Balder looked in before entering. He stuck his head out and nodded to the other two. The three slipped into the room.

The room was Angrboda's bedchambers. Much like any of their own, it was filled with all the requisite items: fireplace, bed, chests, and other items. Near the large bed there were three cradles, and sitting on a chair nearby was a female giant with a swaddled baby in her arms, suckling.

The giant was in her bedclothes, and they could see her lean musculature. This was no nursemaid, but a warrior. Angrboda paid no attention to the three gods, and it was clear that she was not aware that they had crept into her chambers. She rocked the baby at her breast slowly, lost in the timeless ritual.

Balder looked back at Tyr and Frey, but was met by blank stares. None of the three were certain about what to do, although their directive to gather the children was unequivocal. After long minutes of waiting, Balder made a decision. He gestured to Tyr and Frey to stay by the door, and then strode slowly and quietly toward Angrboda.

He stopped at the three cradles and peered into the first one. The infant was asleep, but it looked like no baby Balder had ever seen before. Its skin was scaly and tinted brown, and the child was hairless and reptilian. He considered drawing his sword and slaying it right then, but remembered his father's admonition that the children be brought back unharmed. Still, it took some effort to choke down the grotesque sight of this vile child. What kind of god could produce offspring like this?

He glanced first at Angrboda, still feeding one of the infants, and then back over to Tyr and Frey who stood ready by the door. They had curious looks on their faces, and he realized they had no idea what he planned. He was not sure of it himself, but he thought it preferable to simply slaying the giant mother.

At first he had considered letting himself be seen and then issuing her an ultimatum: give over the children or die. He realized quickly that neither she nor any mother would willingly give up her children, and that such a command would only begin a fight in which she and possibly one or more of the children would die.

Instead, he would use her protective instincts against her by threatening to kill one of the children if she did not hand them over to Tyr and Frey. She would be furious, and would seek to find a way to avoid giving up her children. But she might give them over temporarily, thinking that she could get them back once her hands were free and Balder's sword was away from the infant. By then, Sleipnir would reappear, and Balder could hold her off or kill her—in battle instead of in a cowardly way—while Tyr and Frey made off with two of the infants. After he dealt with her, Sleipnir would return for him and the last child.

He was not sure it was the best plan, but he felt an urgency to do something before they were revealed. In time, Angrboda would notice them—she might leave the room or simply turn her head in their exact direction, or they might make some noise that would give them away. Something needed to be attempted soon, or the entire scheme was at risk. He wondered what Loki would have come up with if he were in their party.

He stepped over to the second child asleep in the next cradle. Unlike her sibling, this infant did not look unnatural, aside from the fact that it was about as large as he was. Though he did not relish doing it, he drew his sword slowly and held the point over the infant's throat. When Angrboda saw the perilous position of her child, she would surely not be so foolish as to attack. He looked over to her, still unaware that they were there. Just as he was about to speak, he heard a quiet cooing from the child.

He turned back and saw that the infant was stirring, although the eyes were still closed. He nearly turned away before he saw something strange. The face began to change color, to grow pale and gray while the skin shriveled and withdrew, and black lines of decay shot across the face. The lips withdrew from toothless gums. The eyes opened, and they were empty sockets with flies crawling out of them.

In shock and horror he struck out, driving the sword into the grotesque infant. It stilled all movement, and he stepped back, barely grasping what he had done and forcing down a wave of nausea.

Tyr yelled, “Balder! Behind you!” but he did not turn in time. He was struck across the side of his head with something very hard, and he flew across the room, crashing into the stone wall of the chamber.

There was an unholy scream of rage and anguish that shook the room as Angrboda looked down upon her dead infant. She turned to Tyr and Frey with her fists clenched around a wooden cudgel, and the most horrible rage on her face that either of the gods had ever seen. The cudgel dripped with Balder's blood, and he lay unconscious against the wall.

She stared at Tyr and Frey with hatred and fury, and then charged, cudgel high and jaw clenched tight.

Both drew their swords, although they were unsure of this battle. Tyr could not get over seeing Balder stab the infant in its cradle, and it had caused his hesitation in warning him of Angrboda's attack. Still, they could not change the fact, nor could they ignore that they were being attacked by an enemy who wanted them dead, one who was at least twice their size.

Tyr turned to Frey before she reached them. “See to Balder.” Frey nodded and dashed off quickly while Tyr took several paces forward to meet the giant's attack.

Angrboda swung the cudgel hard and low, but Tyr deflected the blow with his sword. She recovered quickly—she had obviously been in battles before—and swung it again on a downward angle. Tyr side-stepped the blow and sliced his sword through her weapon, cutting it in two.

She surprised him by dropping it instantly and grabbing for him. He stepped backward, but not far enough to completely avoid her grasping fingers, and he was suddenly hoisted off his feet and then thrown. He struck the wall with his back and fell to one knee before she was on him again.

Frey had roused Balder and used the runes to speed up his healing. Recovering from the blow and from the shock of the infant's change, he pointed toward the first cradle and the bed where they saw that Angrboda had set the other child down. Glancing to see how Tyr fared, they could see that he kept her occupied and allowed them the time necessary to secure the children.