Carefully Dainn made his way to a section of the room well apart from both Mist and Vali. He eased himself to the floor, crossed his legs, and breathed rhythmically until he had shaken off all traces of sickness and fear. Sense returned, and with it the sure knowledge that he could no longer expect to complete his task by creeping about inside Mist’s brain like a thief casing a house and slipping out again unseen. He had no idea when she might become aware of his attempt to identify and eventually neutralize her native magic.
“You must discover the extent of her abilities and make certain she has the necessary instruction to accept me,”
Freya had said.
“ You must be sure that there will be no resistance.”
Dainn laughed deep in his throat, though the attempt left it raw and burning. Mist’s unconscious reaction went well beyond mere “resistance.” He must not only keep her from inadvertently killing him, but also find a way to breach her defenses. As long as Mist’s power was uncontrolled, Freya’s plan would fail.
But the more he pushed, the more magic he used, the closer the beast came to escape.
For now, there was still one task Dainn had to complete. He trained his fragile focus on the Jotunar across the room and called up the Rune Raiho, the chariot—safe enough—along with the image of a vast sirocco blowing the defeated giants into the middle of a bleak desert halfway around the world. A gust of searing wind knocked him sideways. He braced his hands on the floor and pushed himself back to his knees.
When he looked up again, Mist was staring at him, as wideeyed as a child she most assuredly was not.
“What happened?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
Dainn rose carefully. “I am very well.”
“That must be why you look like a snowflake could knock you over.” She stretched her arms above her head and frowned. “I don’t remember a thing. Are we finished?”
The Fates, Dainn, thought, had done him some small kindness in the midst of their punishment. “See for yourself,” he said.
She turned her head toward the place where the Jotunar had lain. Only a few dark blue bloodstains marked the spot.
“Where did you send them?” she asked, pushing loose tendrils of damp hair away from her forehead.
“
We
sent them to a place largely uninhabited by mortals,” he said. “They will be bound to that place for at least a few days.”
“Good,” she murmured. But her expression was troubled, and Dainn wondered if she remembered more than she let on. “Did you keep your promise not to meddle in my head?”
“Does it feel otherwise?” Dainn asked cautiously.
She lifted her shoulders and let them fall again. “I don’t know
what
I feel, but it’s different from last time. How am I supposed to know what’s normal?”
“The sensations are unique to each practitioner of magic. In time, you will become accustomed to your own reactions.”
“In time,” she echoed, meeting his gaze. “Look. I understand what you said about needing someone to help you and teaching me how to use whatever I have, but you can’t expect—”
“I expect you to become what you were meant to be, Mist Freya’s-daughter. You must learn to wield and control your magic, just as you wield your sword.”
She stood up, facing him with legs apart and hands on hips, looking for all the world as if she intended to turn an entire blizzard against him. “I assume we’re not only supposed to find the Treasures, but also keep Loki occupied until the Aesir show up, whenever that is. Not to mention finding out what’s happened to the bridges Loki and Hrimgrimir used.”
“Keeping Loki occupied is not your primary task.”
“But getting Gungnir back
is.
Did you get in touch with Freya while I was in the other room?”
Dainn started. Had she heard or felt him speaking with the Lady? He had been too distracted at the time to set up proper wards, and if she had any idea what they had discussed . . .
“I did contact her,” Dainn admitted, matching her offhand manner. “I made her aware of the situation. She believes the problems Loki had with the bridges are an anomaly.”
“What does that mean?”
“That it may be Loki’s problem alone.”
“I hope that’s true, since otherwise he could bring more Jotunar through anytime, right?”
“Now that the Lady knows that Loki is here and what he attempted in contacting you, she will better be able to counter his actions.”
“How? Loki said she can’t do much without her body, and she’s still working on getting our allies to Midgard.”
“She will send them soon,” Dainn said, feigning certainty he was far from feeling.
“You never told me how many Jotunar Loki actually has here,” Mist said, brushing aside his reassurances.
Dainn knew he still couldn’t afford to tell Mist about the game or its rules—especially since Loki had already broken several of them—but she had given him another opportunity to dissuade her from taking unnecessary risks.
“Perhaps two dozen,” he said, “perhaps as many as fifty. But he will move cautiously, since he obviously believes that Freya was acting through you and is capable of fighting him on his own terms.”
Tugging her braid forward over her shoulder, Mist began to unwind the heavy blond plaits. “Loki may move more cautiously,” she said, “but since what he believes isn’t true—”
“What matters is that he
does
believe,” Dainn said. “He is blinded by his feelings for Freya, both love and hate. He will continue to be deceived if you keep your distance from him as long as possible.” Mist gripped her half-undone braid tightly between her hands. “How are we going to stay away from him when we’re both looking for the same things?”
“Loki will sacrifice any number of Midgardians in reckless or even hopeless ventures and use them to distract us and aid him in his search. Now we, too, must find mortals to fight on the Aesir’s behalf.”
“You mean put ordinary people in danger.”
“Even with full access to your magic, you will not be omnipotent, and I certainly am not. It will be necessary for mortals to take their part in saving their world.”
Suddenly all Mist’s vulnerability and uncertainty were plain in her eyes, striking Dainn more surely than any magic she could throw at him. Fear, not of being hurt or dying, but of failure.
“Okay,” she said, her eyes reflecting a painful memory of the necessities of war. “How do we go about finding these allies?”
Dainn permitted himself a moment of relief. “Loki will naturally seek the corrupt and greedy,” he said. “We will find those dedicated to the good.”
“Oh, of course.” Mist finished unbraiding her hair and combed it through with her strong, slender fingers. “The ‘corrupt and greedy.’ Gangsters? Politicians? Terrorists? Serial killers?”
“I can only guess at Loki’s choices, but he will use anyone who can serve his purpose.”
“So you’re talking about criminals and murderers and amoral public figures, some of whom have whole arsenals of guns and bombs and gods know what else? And you expect decent people to face that?”
“Conventional Midgardian firearms and similar weapons will not be effective in this war.”
She stared at him. “Why not?”
Because, Dainn thought, it was another one of the “rules” of the game. “Freya has told me such weapons are
nidingsverk
to the Aesir— dishonorable, the tools of cowards who are unwilling to face their enemies in personal combat. No Alfr, Jotunn, or member of any other race involved will be permitted to use them.”
“Why should Loki care about honor?”
“There are certain actions even he will not take if it will bring him bad luck, and his
gaefa
will surely vanish if he casts aside every law of the gods.”
“So everyone will be fighting with swords, knives, and axes? That should work well.” She snorted. “You do realize that the people of Midgard haven’t believed in us for hundreds of years? We can’t just stick an advertisement on Craigslist: ‘Wanted: fighters for the Aesir, must believe in giants and be skilled with the sword. Oh, by the way, you’re probably going to get yourself killed. Want to join up?’ ”
“You are forgetting that there are some mortals who possess a limited degree of magical ability. Some will surely become aware of what has come into their world.”
“The kind of mortals you’re talking about are as rare as—” She grimaced. “Snowstorms in San Francisco. Sure, there are a few who claim to have mastered the Galdr, but most of them are quacks. Even if a few do sense that something is going on, what makes you think they’ll find us, or even want to help?”
“Call it a feeling.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I seldom jest.”
“You don’t say.” She flipped her hair back behind her shoulders in a thick, golden wave. “I hope you’re not thinking of using some kind of summoning spell?”
“I do not believe it will be necessary.”
“I don’t like any of this. And I’m not satisfied with what little you’ve told me. But we can only do one thing at a time, and I’m most concerned about finding my Sisters. I don’t know how far off the grid the other Valkyrie have been living, and obviously magic won’t be enough to locate them.” She frowned, lost in her own thoughts for a good minute. “We’ll need access to every kind of data that might reveal their whereabouts. Computers, and people who know how to access records all over the world. Loki will be on it himself if he hasn’t started already.”
“I bow to your superior knowledge of Midgardian technology,” Dainn said.
“Where
have
you been living, under a rock?”
There were times that he had been doing almost exactly that, entirely by choice. “I have often traveled where there are few such means of communication,” he said. “But if you believe I must master these machines, I will do so.”
“Do you even have a cell phone?”
Dainn spread his arms to indicate that all he possessed was fully visible to her. Mist rolled her eyes.
“Let’s stick with the experts,” she said. “Vali used to be good with computers. In fact, if I remember right, he was one of the earliest hackers, the ones who helped expose just how vulnerable electronic data could be.” She looked toward the table, where Vali was lifting his head to display slack features and bloodshot eyes. “But he only did it for kicks, and he gave it up some time ago.”
“Will he assist us?”
“We always got along pretty well, and he did help me today.” She frowned, a distracted look in her eyes. “I have to admit I didn’t think he was capable of doing what he did. Vid’s always dominated him. Maybe Vali’s finally ready to stand on his own two feet again . . . if he can stay sober.”
“Do you think he will be prepared to tolerate my presence?”
“He’s much more the forgiving type than his brother.” Her gaze sharpened again. “What about the bridges? What if Freya’s wrong about Loki’s access to them?”
“She will monitor the situation and contact me if it becomes necessary.”
Mist threw him a wary glance and nodded slowly. “It would probably be a good idea to put a warding spell around my loft in case Loki works himself up into a fighting mood again.”
And helping Mist create such a spell, Dainn thought, would give him another chance to probe her mind again. Very carefully.
“I doubt Loki would dare attack your home,” he said, “but it would be a wise precaution. Surely he will have Jotunar watching you at all times.”
“Right. And once that’s taken care of, I’m going after Gungnir.”
“You must learn to control your magic if you are to be effective against him.”
“But he thinks it was Freya who faced him at the end of the fight. Now is the best time to act, when he’s still worried about her returning.”
Dainn laughed silently at his assumption that he could prevent Mist from taking risks. “Where do you expect to find him?” he asked.
“Mist?” Vali croaked. With considerable effort, Odin’s son levered his head and shoulders off the table. “Wa’s happenin’? Where’s Vid?” His bleary gaze slid to the center of the room. “Where’s th’ Jot’nar?”
Mist went to join him. “They’ve been taken care of,” she said.
Vali sighed and slumped over the table again. “ ’S bad, isn’ it?”
“Very bad.” She sat in the chair opposite his, her legs straddling the seat. “But you can help do something about it.”
“Me?”
“You were very brave today, and I’m going to rely on that courage a lot more from now on.”
He blinked. “You wan’ . . .
my
help?”
She reached across the table to lay her hand on his arm. “You’re Odin’s son, Vali. Baldr’s avenger. I haven’t forgotten, even if you have.”
“I . . . don’ wanna remember,” Vali said, resting his cheek on the worn wood of the table top.
She squeezed his arm. “You need to get sober, Vali. I know how smart you are when you want to be. If we’re to have any hope of finding my Sisters before Loki does, your skill with computers will be essential. You can help save this world.”
A tear rolled over Vali’s ruddy cheek. “I . . .” He looked up at Mist. “Okay.” He tried to stand up, staggered, and righted himself again. “Wha’ d’ya wan’ me to do?”
“Dainn and I have to make some plans, so we’ll go home for a while. I want you to come to my place when you’re steady enough to drive, but I need it to be soon. Can you do that?”
“Sure.” He grinned. “I’m glad you . . . beat Loki.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“ ’N’ him,” Vali said, waving in Dainn’s general direction.
Mist rose. “If you get a chance to talk to Vid, maybe you can get him to speak with me again.”
“Doubt it,” Vali muttered. “Once he’s made up ’is mind . . .”
“Try. He should know better than anyone what’s at stake.”
Vali nodded, threw back his broad shoulders, and wove his way toward the bar door. Mist returned to Dainn.
“I guess you don’t have any money,” she said.
He shook his head.
“No wallet? No ID?”
“I seem to have misplaced it.”
“Anything socked away in Switzerland or the Cayman Islands?”
“I have a little, but I have not touched it in years.”
“Then you’d better think about accessing it. I have a feeling we may need it.” She patted the rear pocket of her jeans. “I have more than enough to pay for a hotel room for you until we can arrange something else.”