Lies, Knives, and Apples

Nine World Chronicles Book 0

Lyra Wolf

Copyright © 2020 by Lyra Wolf

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Ravenwell Press.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Ravenwell Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-944912-26-0

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-944912-29-1

First Edition

1

Don’t Have a Cow

Asgardian Year — Twelve Hundred and Four, Sixth Age

Midgardian Year — 807

Midgard

(Switzerland, to be exact…)

“Hiking perpetually uphill was not exactly what I had in mind when you promised me battle, wine, and unhallowed pleasures,” I said to Odin and Tyr. “I should be decently drunk by now, not annoyingly sober.”

Odin’s lips pulled into a wry smile, and his one blue eye sparkled as it stared into my sharp green ones.

“How else did you expect me to get you to agree to accompany us on this mission?” Odin asked.

I prided myself on how many trips to Midgard I had wriggled out of. He got me this time, and it filled me equally with awe and depression. Odin always was a first rate con.

“You’re a monster,” I said. “You know those are my three favorite things, and to use them to trick me…I’m impressed.”

He laughed. The wind tousled his dark russet hair in the same languid waves as the grass in the surrounding meadows. Odin was a man in his prime. Attractive, broad shouldered, and defined face accented by a silk eyepatch. He was all strapping and dynamic, where I was all lean muscle and charm.

“Regardless, you will at least get battle,” Tyr assured.

Dark blonde hair fell in front of his kind, angular face as he turned to catch my gaze. He adjusted the strap of his satchel with the iron hook he used in place of his missing left hand. Nice guy, but a banner killjoy.

“Don’t tease me. I’m not sure I can handle my heart broken a second time today.”

“A dozen reports have come in describing all manner of Jotuns terrorizing humans for sport across the alps,” he continued. “This breach of our treaties will not go unpunished. We just have to find the bastards first.”

Jotuns loved being a nuisance. Of course, it fell on us to do something about it. As Odin continually reminded me, it was our duty to ensure the safety of Midgard. I suppose it was the decent thing to do seeing they worshipped us. One couldn’t always be a no show to their prayers.

We kept on.

One hour.

Then two more.

My heels slipped across the gravel of an excessively narrow and rough path. We hiked up grassy slopes so steep a good breeze would topple over the grazing cows. But the cherry on top was the tang of manure imbedding itself fiercely into my nostrils.

I’d never forgive them for this.

My hunger grew along with my annoyance. Things I usually enjoyed started to irritate me. The sun shone too bright, the brooks babbled too loudly, and all the little joyful alpine life rubbed its beauty in my face.

My stomach grumbled. If I had to endure one more green valley…

“Are there any scheduled breaks for this death march?” I asked, patting my pockets for any spare nuts or seeds.

“I have some dried venison in my satchel, if that will shut you up,” Tyr said.

Oh. About that…

“I already ate that three hours ago.”

He stopped, and I almost ran into his back. Tyr was solid, like a very muscular whale built out of bricks.

He turned stiffly until he faced me, his chest heaving. Red blotches exploded across his face and neck.

“All of it?” He pulled open his bag and rummaged through its contents, checking. “Dammit Loki! That was all our rations for the day! Could you be any more selfish?”

Was he seriously blaming me?

“Don’t take your inadequacy for packing enough snacks out on me,” I said. “This is hardly my fault.”

“Hardly your fault?”

I crossed my arms.

“See, you wouldn’t be so irritable if you’d packed enough food.”

Tyr shook as if straining to hold back a tidal wave of violence. This was going to be amazing. Nothing brought me greater joy than when I got beneath his skin.

Odin put his hand on his shoulder.

“Let it go. It’s time we make camp anyway,” he said, eyeing me with all the sharpness of a dagger. “We don’t have much daylight left.”

Camp? I couldn’t let it come to that.

“Well, you both tried your best, but if the snacks are gone, I’m out,” I said. “If you excuse me, there’s a big bottle of claret and some roasted pheasant waiting for me back in Asgard, and with any luck, a woman or three.”

What was I saying? There were always women. And men.

I turned on my heel and started off.

Unlike them, I didn’t need Bifrost to travel back to Asgard. I had the power to simply shift into my falcon aspect and fly back to the comfort of my rooms. My magic was delightfully convenient in situations like this.

Odin grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him. His breath was hot against my cheeks.

“My, aren’t we feisty today!” I said.

“Do you always have to be so difficult?”

A delicious spark of annoyance stiffened the lines of his face. I loved how his jaw fluttered as he clenched his teeth tight. His anger brightened his eye.

“No, but it’s more fun this way.”

He tightened his grip. I felt his element of ambition, the very energy that made him a god, rush cold through my veins.

He was like a summer storm, beautiful, ruthless, deadly…I loved every bite of him pulling me down into his depths. Sucking me dry. Chaos and ambition was a volcanic mix.

“Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Can’t allow it. Not going to happen.”

I chuckled, seeing through him.

He couldn’t hide the slight timbre of desperation in his voice. He needed me. An intoxicating thrill rippled down my spine, but it didn’t compare to the thrill of denying him.

I pulled out of his grip, rising back to the surface as his ambition faded from my body.

“You can hardly force me,” I said.

He tilted his head. A crooked smile pulled at his lips.

“True,” he said. “But I can remind you of your promise to me.”

He tugged up my sleeve. A thin, pink scar marked my wrist, identical to the one on his own. Proof he and I had sworn fealty to one another by mixing our blood.

“We made a blood oath,” he said. “You can’t abandon me. Not when I need you to remain by my side now more than ever. Unless, of course, you wish to be an oath breaker? And we all know the cost of that choice.”

I didn’t need to be reminded of the punishment that carried. All that pain and screaming and gnashing of teeth wasn’t particularly enticing. Best to avoid.

“You always love to play that card,” I said. “If conning me doesn’t work, coercion is always a nice backup. You never change.”

A devious glint shone in his eye, and a self-satisfied smirk curled his mouth.

“You are our only chance to negotiate with Jotunheim. They still listen to you. Only you. When we find them, and after they’ve seen enough of their comrades fall at our feet, you can ensure they agree to our new treaties.”

He was rich.

I sneered.

“There’s a problem with that lovely little scenario,” I said. “I don’t appreciate being bullied to perform like some trained monkey. I do have feelings. And this hurts me deeply.”

He crushed me against his chest. I wanted to push him back, I craved pushing him back, but then how could I feel his heart race beneath his wool tunic?

His scent of clove and sage rose from his hot skin.

“Must you constantly irk me?” he said, his gaze darkening.

“It brings out the color of your cheeks.”

He clenched his jaw, but his cheeks flushed deeper.

A spark of excitement.

A desire for more.

“Will you both shut up?” Tyr begged. He rubbed his temples. “You two are like a bickering old couple. I’m going to go out and catch us some dinner before this headache you gave me gets any worse.”

Tyr always could be a diva.

Odin and I gathered stones the size of human skulls and placed them in a circle making a sufficient fire pit. I snapped my fingers and sent an ember from my element into the center. It erupted into a crackling flame.

So practical.

I loved being me. Chaos. Fire. Potential.

It’s widely believed gods exist outside birth and beginning, but that’s not completely accurate.

We are made.

Odin searched for others like him who contained pure elements. Energy. And he found us. Beauty, law, strength, love, war, and of course, chaos. He collected us like precious jewels for his kingdom of Asgard.

Pulling out a small piece of his element he pushed it into our bodies, transforming, charging, our own and making us gods.

Making us immortal beings like him.

Pebbles crunched beneath heavy boots. Tyr hiked back up the hill towards us, the muscles in his arms and neck straining as he lugged an entire ox behind him.

He laid it in the grass. Its pink tongue lolled outside its open mouth. For a heartbeat, pity grasped and squeezed me for the poor creature, but my building hunger chased it away.

“When you said ‘catch us some dinner,’ I expected something…smaller,” I said, taking out my small knife and setting to work skinning the animal.

He shrugged.

“Does it bother you?” he asked. “I didn’t think you so soft.”

Me? Soft? Never.

“I’m not. I just prefer my food without a face to look at me.”

He gave a wry smile and gripped the horns. He twisted. Sharp and quick. Pop and crack. Off snapped the head.

My guts lurched.

Ok, I’ll admit, that bit did always make me cringe.

We set to work preparing the cuts of meat, and I tried not to think about how its flesh was still warm with its blood. Cutting it into sections, we hoisted the beautiful marbled beef over the raging fire.

I commanded the fire to burn hotter, eager to eat as soon as possible. Yellow and orange flames licked the ribs, brisket, and round, searing the meat until it blistered and crackled.

The sun dipped below the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and crickets started to chirr and trill. Facing the snapping fire, glorious heat warmed my face and chest. A stark contrast to the cold sinking into my back.

My skin prickled.

We weren’t alone.

I turned, looking out into the black wilderness behind me. For a second, I swore something stared back at me…

But as the savory scent of roasted beef filled my nostrils, my stomach growled. I brushed the feeling of being watched away. It was only my hunger playing tricks on me.

No one was there.

Although, the raised hairs on the back of my neck refused to believe it.

“Should be done by now,” I said. I already imagined biting into the juicy tenderloin.

Tyr pushed himself off the ground, the squashed grass slowly resurrecting three blades at a time. He took out a small knife. The steel flashed in the firelight, and cut into a thick slab of sirloin.

His eyes narrowed.

“Odd,” he said.

“What is?” Odin asked.

He stuck his finger in the cut, and bewilderment filled his features.

“The meat is stone cold!”

“Impossible,” I said. “That meat has cooked in scalding fire for an hour.”

I stood and inspected the gash he made. Blood drained out, the meat as raw as he claimed. My stomach rumbled in outrage.

“Your fire must be losing its edge,” Odin said, a soft chuckle beneath his words.

“I assure you, I do not suffer from performance issues,” I snapped.

“The rawness of this carcass begs to differ,” Tyr added. “It was bound to happen at some point. Don’t take it personally.”

He smirked.

I sent a fresh wave of fire into the pit. A roll of flames erupted towards the sky and caught Tyr’s beard, and eyebrows alight. He cried out, dancing and hooting as he smothered his singeing whiskers.

Odin cackled.

“As I said, nothing is wrong with my magic. Unless you’d care for another demonstration?”

Tyr glowered at me and made a rude sign. I found it adorable.

Grumbling, he sat back down in the grass and raked his fingers through his beard, brushing away the burnt hairs.

“We will have to wait longer,” Odin said. “In another hour, it will surely be cooked.”

Hunger gnawed at my insides.

And that sensation of being watched returned…

The scent of succulent meat strengthened with every slow, agonizing, irritating minute. Fat glistened in the firelight as it dripped down the browned crust. My mouth watered fantasizing about the meaty flavor, the buttery texture, the pleasure…

I would do unholy things to this steak once it was done.

Once the hour had passed, I leapt to my feet, pushing Tyr out of the way. I would not be deprived of my dinner one second more.

Cutting my blade into the flesh, I smiled eager for juice to flow out the clean gash.

Blood.

My heart sank into a bucket filled with my boiling tears.

I put my finger inside, not wanting to accept it.

Ice cold.

I ground my teeth. I wasn’t sure if I would survive this.

“This is bullshit!” I shouted.

“It’s still not done?” Odin asked.

“Not in the slightest,” I growled. “But it will be. So help me, this bastard will roast!”

I swelled the fire until the flames wrapped around the steaks, loins, and ribs. The meat crackled, and the fire spit. The intense heat prickled my cheeks.

I made the blaze hotter.

The flesh bubbled and charred until a thick, black crust encased the meat.

Odin walked to the fire. He put out his hand, the firelight coating his fingers in gold.

He cursed.

“You can stop. This is fruitless,” he said.

I turned to him, absolutely shocked how he could even utter such a thing.

“Can you not sense it?” he asked.

He took out his knife and sliced into a block of chuck, the burnt outside cracking.

Blood trickled out.

I wanted to die. Or did I want to weep? Both.

I dug my fingers into my scalp, trying to contain my rage. Trying to hold it together.

“Magic,” I said.

Of course.

How did I not realize it sooner? I, who taught Odin most about magic and its intricacies. This day kept getting better and better.

The chitter of the crickets grew louder. It turned into laughter.

“You figured out my trick,” a voice said from the darkness. “I suppose you aren’t the wisest of all the gods for nothing, Odin.”

2

Rock, Meet Hard Place

A burly, Jotun man stepped out into the firelight. His black beard glistened in the firelight, and his crooked nose added texture to an unfortunately plain face.

Thiazi. A distant cousin of mine, more muscle than brains, with a lovely disposition made entirely of poison.

Thiazi walked towards Odin, his thick soled boots grinding a clutch of edelweiss beneath his heels.

Odin betrayed no hint of intimidation as the two men stood eye to eye.

A misconception of Jotuns is that they are all colossal monsters wanting to grind bones into their bread. Sadly, the truth is not quite so dramatic. They looked as any other Aesir or Vanir, just a touch more blood thirsty. That’s not to say true giants didn’t stomp across the Northern tip of Jotunheim, but most were as Thiazi.

A man.

And soon to be a dead one.

“Sorry to be a buzzkill, but I’m going to murder you now.” I dropped my hands to the daggers at my hips. “This crossed a line.”

He chuckled.

“And I thought you could take a joke better than anyone,” he said. “You really have changed since you left Jotunheim.”

“Enough!” Odin shouted, his voice shaking the pines. “I suggest you leave, or you will feel my steel in your gut.”

Thiazi’s lips curled behind his dense beard. A flash of white teeth.

“Midgard is not yours to command who can come and go,” he seethed. “We have an equal right same as anyone else.”

“Except for the dozen treaties you agreed to stating otherwise,” Tyr said. “Are you so dishonorable you break them without concern?”

Thiazi laughed. The mixture of light and shadow playing across his face made him look exceptionally dangerous.

“Dishonorable? At least I am honest about what I am. I don’t bathe in blood and say it’s in the name of peace.”

I sensed a lecture, or worse a grand soliloquy, coming from him. I sank my forehead into my hands, over it.

“Get to the point, Thiazi,” I groaned. “The sooner we can get through all your rambling, the sooner I can eat.”

He glowered at me, then turned his gaze back to Odin. Odin’s knuckles pulled white as he tightened his grip on his staff.

“You pretended treaties and accords between our two realms would benefit Jotunheim. You lied. They only ever benefited you. We are done answering to any Aesir.” He pointed his calloused finger at Odin’s chest. “We are done being cheated by ‘The Mad One’.”

Odin scoffed, but I noticed the small grin hiding behind his lips. He loved that nickname, and the unease it struck into any that met him. I told him I found it theatrical.

“And this is how you take a stand?” Odin asked. “Is this the bravery of Clan Alvadi, Thiazi? Terrorize a few Midgardians and stomp your feet like a child to get my notice? Your father knew when he was beat. This will not end well for you.”

Thiazi pulled out his broadsword. The steel caught the firelight, and it flashed with the same malice in his gray eyes.

“The only end shall be yours.”

Twigs snapped behind us in the dark. Gravel skittered beneath heavy steps.

Jotuns slunk out of the gloom into the firelight, men and women warriors pulling out maces, broadswords, and battle axes. I counted twenty in all surrounding our little band of three.

Finally. Something exciting!

Odin, Tyr, and I ground our heels into the grass. My blood flowed hot and ready making my pulse beat against my dagger hilts.

They wasted no time.

Three warriors attacked Odin with axe and sword. He removed his glamour spell from his walking stick, transforming it instantly into his great spear, Gungnir.

The muscles strained in his forearms as he thrust the tip into the face of a warrior. A grisly crack echoed out as steel scraped bone and cartilage. He swung around and butted the end of his spear into the throat of the second, crushing their windpipe and sending them toppling over backward. He spun. Blocked. Struck the third.

He was a master with such a peasant weapon, and I loved how he twirled the spear effortlessly within his fingers before skewering a fourth Jotun right through the liver.

Tyr caught a female warrior’s blade in his hook. He circled her hand. Caught her weapon. Tossed her blade to the ground. Sliced her throat open wide, dropping her in five seconds flat.

He turned, shoving his boot into the chest of a man with a scarred lip. Steel flared. Tyr grunted as he swung his broadsword in front of his face in time to block a fresh attack from a Jotun as wide as an oak.

I grounded my steps, smiling as five warriors surrounded me. Delight lanced my core. Their daggers were made of Dwarven steel. Swift and cold, it was the only metal capable of killing a god.

Another misconception. Just because we were gods didn’t mean we were invulnerable.

Two lunged at me with their Dwarven steel blades, and excitement rushed through my veins. If there wasn’t any risk, this wouldn’t be any fun.

I crossed my daggers, blocking the blow of the first. I shifted, hooking the knife of the second.

I wrenched his arm downwards.

Taking his weapon from his sweat soaked fingers, I stabbed him in the heart with his own blade. A little insult to injury.

I twisted again catching the arm of the first.

I circled her hand until I caught her dagger. She growled, struggling to free herself, I only laughed as I disarmed her and kicked her into the fire pit. Orange embers exploded out into the darkness from beneath her.

“You could have at least made this challenging,” I said, combing my copper hair out of my vision.

Three more raced towards me, their feet pounding into the ground.

I struck one with a map of scars across the face. They blocked me, catching my blade with theirs. They sneered thinking they had me. How cute.

Wrapping his arm with mine, I pulled them down. I struck his chin with the pommel of my dagger, then buried it in his chest. The steel grated against his bones as I pushed it in deeper.

“Who's next?” I asked, sinking my steel into the skull of a blonde haired woman.

They kept coming, and I couldn’t get enough.

Every hot spray of blood lit my own. Every broken clavicle sent a thrill deep into my thighs.

Nothing beat this.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” I asked, chasing two warriors who tried to scramble away from me.

Something hard and solid hit my right arm and torso. I fell to the ground, my elbow scraping across grass and primroses.

Apparently it wasn’t. Thank gods.

Looking up, a warrior, seemingly crafted out of pure brawn and anger, smiled at me. He dug his chipped fingernails into the leg of the roasted ox, preparing to strike me a second time.

“Now this is creative,” I complimented.

“Say goodbye,” he replied.

He hurtled the massive leg towards my shoulder. I jumped out of the way, missing his attack by inches. He clenched his jaw, murder in his eyes, and stepped towards me. He whacked the leg at me again. I ducked, his bludgeon of beef skating across the top of my head.

Ok. The novelty was wearing off.

I scrambled back into the core of the fight with him fast on my heels.

Odin still spun and thrusted his spear, digging the point into the guts of three warriors making a Jotun shish kabob.

Tyr jumped off a boulder, yelling and slicing his sword through the neck of one, and jabbing his hook into the eye of a second.

A mad scream cut through the fight as the brawny Jotun rushed through the battle towards me. Anger lit his eyes as he swung back the leg, accidentally hitting his comrade against the chest and sending him flying against a tree.

His muscles rippled as he drove the solid meat and bone towards my skull.

Time slowed as I calculated each second.

I smiled.

I stepped back, the leg grazing my tunic, and plunged my daggers into the ox leg, catching it. His eyes widened with annoyance as he tugged on the bone, trying to free it from my hold. I pulled back, digging my heels into the dirt for any leverage I could get.

“Get off!” he screamed.

“With pleasure,” I replied.

Pushing out all of my strength, I twisted my arms and wrenched the beast from his hands. It slid off my daggers and fell to the ground with a thud.

Shock overcame his face, followed by crushing disappointment. I understood. Poor dear. But it would all be over in a flash.

He drove his small axe toward my head. I fell to my knees, the sharp edge only severing the tips of my hair.

I grasped his other wrist and jerked him towards me, burying my blade into his armpit where his armor could not help him.

Blood spattered hot over my chest and face. His head slumped, and he collapsed into a pillow of snowdrops.

I grimaced at the state of my stained tunic. Today I might be the hero, but tomorrow it would definitely be the laundress getting his blood out of my clothes.

Odin cried out.

I spun around.

Thiazi cut his broadsword across Odin’s torso, severing deepening into his flesh. Blood gushed out and down his abdomen.

Odin clasped his stomach and tried to thrust his spear at Thiazi’s wide chest. He was too weak. Thiazi easily blocked Odin’s attack with his blade and twisted the spear from his grasp. With a solid kick, he flung Odin on his back.

Odin winced, pain twisted his face as he dug his fingers against his wound. He stretched for his spear with his free hand. Blood rushed between his fingers clamped on his stomach. The spear remained out of reach, not that it would do him much good anyway.

No.

Fear iced my veins as I raced to his side. If Thiazi laid one finger on him...

I picked up the spear, and stood between Odin and Thiazi, pointing the lethal end at Thiazi’s nose.

Resolve beat with every strike of my heart, and my breaths deepened.

“Step away,” I growled. “Unless you want your death to be agony.”

His knuckles tensed on the hilt of his sword as he held it out at my chest. Held it out as if he truly believed he could scare me away from Odin’s side.

“Such devotion is truly moving,” he said. “I didn’t think you capable.”

“You’ll find I’m capable of much,” I said. “Like ramming this spear through that small piece of brain lodged in your skull.”

Laughter filled his eyes.

“I like the confidence, but we both know you couldn’t pour piss out of a boot even with the instructions on the heel.”

My right eye twitched, and I ground my teeth.

Threatening Odin’s life was one thing, but doubting my aim? That was one step too far.

I tightened my grip on the spear and thrust it directly at the delicious point between his eyes.

But he didn’t have a face anymore. He wasn’t even a man anymore.

I stared into the pale, yellow eyes of a gigantic eagle. Thiazi’s wingspan spread out further than the length of two men, and his talons were sharper than tiger claws.

I should have known. Thiazi never passed up an opportunity to shift into his eagle aspect. Show off.

I grunted trying to impale his legs or chest.

Thiazi cawed. His blaring voice pierced my ears. He latched his black, gleaming claws around my spear. His wings cracked through the air, whooshing cold down my face and back.

In two seconds, I was off the ground.

I was in the air.

We were flying.

Shit.

My fingers burned holding tight onto the spear, trying not to think about falling. Trying not to think about my body breaking against the teeny tiny hills and mountains we soared over.

“Let me down!” I bellowed. “Or I swear I will make you wail for mercy!”

He dove back towards the ground, the trees and boulders racing up towards my feet. My heart stilled slightly, hoping for a nice, soft pile of hay to land in.

A sturdy pine came at me fast.

He quickened his speed. My clothes flapped around my torso and legs. My hair caught in my mouth and webbed across my vision. The pine grew bigger. Closer.

Sweat beaded my brow.

“Anywhere is good. Just drop me here. No. Here. HERE!”

My ribs and forehead struck the rough bark. He pulled me through the branches, twigs snapping and lacerating my skin. That was nothing to the mouthful of pine needles I spit out. Pungent, fresh, disgusting.

Broken legs would be better.

Bracing myself for the fall and the inevitable split of pain, I let go of the spear.

I remained glued to the metal, stuck thanks to another blasted charm.

Lifting my legs, I pushed my boots against the spear and tugged my hands back with all my strength.

“That won’t help you,” Thiazi said, his voice rough and shrill as he spoke with a bird’s throat and tongue.

“Let me go,” I spat, letting my body fall slack again.

“Not until I get what I want.”

He had to be kidding.

“I’m not in a bargaining mood,” I said. “Something about being kidnapped doesn’t put me in the generous spirit.”

“Sorry to hear that. Maybe some persuasion would help?”

Before I could answer, he swooped down again. I flailed as he dragged me against a forest floor, my entire body bobbing and twisting against rocks, dirt, and grit. My knees were bruised, and elbows battered.

My shoulder struck a stump, sending a shock of agony tearing through my right side.

“Ok, time out, time out!” I cried.

“Are you begging?”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I rasped, spitting out sand and pebbles.

Again, he rose back into the air, soaring at an even pace.

Anger boiled my blood. Anger that he had bested me. Anger that he riddled my perfect skin with nicks and cuts. He would pay dearly for both.

“Give me the goddess Idunn and her golden apples, and I will let you go.”

I laughed. He was hilarious.

“You really do have rocks for brains if you think that possible,” I said. “Why don’t you ask for something reasonable? Like a recipe for strawberry trifle?”

“I want Idunn,” he repeated. “I want eternal life, same as you and Odin.”

Of course he did.

Idunn’s golden apples were quite wondrous. They could provide mortals with immortality and heal gods on the brink of death with a single bite.

I saw now. This entire tantrum had never been about Midgard. It had only ever been about Thiazi achieving life eternal.

I couldn’t blame him. Eternal life was pretty fantastic.

“Sorry, not going to happen,” I said. “Do you want a handkerchief for your tears?”

He dove a third time, ripping me through sharp brush and briars. He increased his speed, his wings flapping like thunder over my head.

My every muscle ached, my eyes stung, and my breath stuck in my throat as thorns cut and tore my cheeks and arms.

“Give her to me, or I’ll drag you across all Midgard grinding away your skin until you beg me to run you through with Dwarven steel to end your misery.”

He buried me deeper into the vines and brambles, bites of pain making my entire body feel on fire.

I almost refused him out of spite, but I realized that might be a tad petty given the circumstances.

Maybe it was wrong of me, but I was rather fond of my life, and Idunn rarely appeared in Asgard’s halls…In fact, it was possible no one would ever even miss her.

Thiazi aimed my head directly at a massive boulder.

Yeah. Idunn was so not worth this.

“Ok!” I shouted. “Ok, I’ll bring her to you!”

He rose up high and fast, the soles of my boots scraping the top of the stone.

“You have three days time to bring Idunn to me in this spot,” he said. “If you trick me, I will find you, and I will hack your ribcage from your spine, and pull out your lungs through your back to make you your own eagle’s wings.”

“It’s always gore and death with you, isn’t it?” I asked.

“I know nothing quite motivates you like your own skin being on the line, Loki.”

I couldn’t deny that.

He lowered me to the ground and dropped me in a meadow.

“Three days,” he cawed, soaring away into the night sky.

I brushed dirt and grass off my elbows and knees, calling him every obscenity I could think of in multiple languages and dialects.

“Loki!” Odin’s voice called.

I spun around. Tyr and Odin walked towards me. My stomach lurched at his blood drenching his tunic. At how much worse it could have been…

I sniffed hard and rubbed my nose, chasing the gooey sentiment entangling my heart away.

“Still alive?” I asked. “I’d thought you died back there, what with half your guts spilling out of you.”

He chuckled.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said.

It was.

He lifted his tunic, revealing a small cut where once had been a deadly gash. His flesh was quickly healing itself.

I breathed out in relief, surprised I’d held my breath at all.

He gave a small smile. He reached out and gripped my shoulder.

“If you hadn’t stepped in when you did…” he let his voice trail away.

We both knew, but couldn’t say it.

I never considered myself particularly feeling, but with him, I felt the entirety of the worlds. His every sigh, his every heartbeat, crushed me beneath its weight. I wanted it to crush me harder.

“Yes. It’s unfortunate,” I said. “Guess I’m still stuck with you.”

He chuckled, letting his hand fall back to his side.

“I know it must be truly devastating,” he said.

Tyr cleared his throat.

“What did Thiazi want?” Tyr asked. “You look a mess.”

“How kind of you to notice,” I said, brushing pine needles out of my hair. “As it is, he wanted nothing more than to toss me around for fun. You know how he can be.”

He eyed me.

“I know how you can be, too,” he said.

“What are you inferring?” I asked. “Spit it out and stop keeping me dangling on your riddles.”

He crossed his arms.

“This doesn’t feel right,” he said. “Thiazi doesn’t do anything without reason.”

“So you suspect me? Yes. I’d definitely throw my lot in with the one who just dragged me through a briar patch. I’ll be picking thorns out of my ass for weeks,” I said. “Wonderful detective work, Tyr. Top notch.”

He ground his teeth.

“Regardless, there is something fishy about all this,” Odin said. “Until it is clear what led Thiazi to these actions, we must remain on our guard. I will set up a Watch immediately upon our return to Asgard.”

I forced a smile.

“Excellent idea!” I said. “What could be wrong with that? Nothing at all.”

3

An Apple a Day Keeps Liars Away

Asgard

One day remained before I had to deliver Idunn to Thiazi in Midgard.

I was not usually one to keep my word, but Thiazi always fulfilled his threats. I really preferred my lungs to remain inside my body.

I spent every available minute calculating and plotting how to pull off this little scheme. It wouldn’t be easy, which suited me fine. I enjoyed deception as an exhilarating sport. The ritual. The risk. It all sent an addictive rush through my veins.

I didn’t earn the title of the Sly God for being an honest man.

Sometimes a small voice in the back of my mind would beg me to reconsider. To do better. To be a good person. I found whacking it with a sturdy shovel and piling another thick layer of dirt overtop shut it up nicely.

I pulled my finest navy tunic of Elven silk over my head and smoothed the gold embroidery around my neck. I rubbed cedar and musk oil thoroughly onto my arms. I ran a flat-toothed bone comb through my copper hair, ensuring it waved like flames.

Damn I looked good.

I only had one shot, and if I wanted my plan to work, I had to sell it.

Leaving my rooms, I slunk through grand halls of marble and carved oak. Footsteps echoed up into the vaulted ceiling. They weren’t mine.

I stopped and pressed my back against a pillar. Sneaking a glance, I cursed softly.

A group of five warriors marched beneath the iron chandelier. The Watch. Thank you Tyr for this splendid wrench. I usually loved nothing better than a game of cat and mouse, but I was sadly on a tight schedule.

I held my breath until their steps dissolved into silence. Slipping out behind the pillar, I went left, cutting across a courtyard brimming with roses, daffodils, and humming bees. Jumping over a hedge, I started down a brick path that led straight to the orchards.

Idunn preferred to live among her beloved trees and plants. Court life did not interest her, and for that I was grateful. She’d cornered me one too many times before she moved out permanently.

She spoke only of botany, poetry, and music. After an hour trapped in her chitter chatter, I knew every intricacy and mystery of the pea pod. Enduring such trauma made me resolve to avoid her at all costs, lest she pull me into a very detailed discourse on beets.

And here I was. Going right into the belly of the beast.

Gods. I swore I’d never let myself down like this again.

The Asgardian Sea roared in the distance, crashing against the jagged rocks beneath the cliffs. I pulled in full breaths of salt and orchids walking the path toward Idunn’s. Twice I peeked over my shoulder if anyone followed me.

The flagstone path remained clear, weaving back towards Asgard’s halls without a soul to be seen.

Lovely.

Nestled between dense pine and a striking view of the ocean, Idunn’s perfect bungalow came into view.

Bright red paint covered the clapboards and white slathered every shutter and scalloped trim. Finches trilled and flapped their itty-bitty wings in matching itty-bitty red and white birdbaths. Forget-me-nots and buttercups made the entire cottage pop.

My stomach churned from all the cuteness.

Entering a white picket fence, of course there was a white picket fence, the smell of raspberry tarts wafted in the air. Idunn’s husband, Bragi, sang ballades in his high tenor voice.

All the gods praised how his songs filled their thoughts with peace and warmth. They only ever filled my head with thoughts of murder.

To the left of the house twisted six gnarled apple trees up from the earth. Their branches were barren of fruit, but that didn’t matter. A basket laden with golden apples from last year’s harvest laid in the lush grass beside Idunn’s feet. Their hard skins gleamed in the sunlight.

She leaned into the spider-like branches, inspecting the waxy leaves. A purple silk gown flowed down her narrow hips, and a teal sash tied around her waist. A mess of elegantly pinned braids of deepest chestnut crowned her head.

Idunn was like a swan in her movements and appearance. Graceful and beautiful to look at, annoying and squawking if you dared get too close.

She met my gaze. Joy lit her hazel eyes, and her pink lips pulled into a big smile. She jumped and waved at me, her delicate face stiffening with crazed, unbridled happiness.

A bit of me died inside.

And so it began.

I forced a smile and waved back.

“You kept your promise to visit me!” she squealed.

She constantly invited me. I was constantly busy.

“How could I possibly stay away from you, Idunn?” I said. “We always have such riveting conversation.”

“I was beginning to doubt. You know what they say about you.” She lowered her voice for that last bit. “But here you are! As you said. I am so excited you’ve finally come. There’s so much we need to catch up on! Wait, first you must try a raspberry tart!”

Idunn rushed to a whicker table snatching a porcelain, periwinkle plate piled high with tarts.

“You’ve never tasted anything quite so delicious, I promise you,” she said.

I opened my mouth to protest, but she shoved one between my lips.

Her eyes widened with anticipation watching me chew. Butter, fruit, and a delightful zing from a hint of lemon coated my tongue.

Dammit. They were good.

“I apologize for how long it’s taken me to call. I scarce have a moment to myself with all these battles and political missions.” I leaned against the apple tree. “Just the other day I journeyed to Midgard.”

I snatched a second tart and snarfed it down hating how much I loved the damn things.

She smiled softly, sincere understanding tugging at her features. Reaching out, she laid her hand over my own and squeezed.

“And we are so grateful for all you do to protect the Nine Realms,” she said. “You’re like a petunia! Protecting us from invasion, as the petunia protects other plants from aphids. Did you know they can reach a height of four feet? It’s amazing of what plants are capable.”

It took everything in me to resist pulling my hands down my face. Maybe I’d been to quick in writing off a painful death from Thiazi…

The muscles in my face and lips began to ache as I kept them frozen in a pleasant expression.

“But you do so much for Asgard as well, Idunn,” I said.

Her cheeks flushed a vibrant pink.

“I only tend the gardens and orchards,” she said, looking at her feet. “It’s nothing special.”

I placed my finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to meet my own. I stared into her eyes.

“Idunn, you have the most important job of anyone in the Nine Realms,” I said, my voice smooth. Convincing. Sincere. “You devote your very life to this orchard. We would have all died a thousand deaths had it not been for your sacrifice in ensuring these apple trees bore fruit year after year.”

She blushed deeper, but from my touch or flattery I wasn’t sure. I lowered my hand back to my side.

She turned to the apple trees, looking at them with love and reverence as if her own children.

“They are miraculous,” she said. “A true gift. Only these six exist in all the worlds. Did you know, they say the first seedling grew from the tear of the first soul to suffer a broken heart?”

I did, actually. Because she had already told me this story a million times over.

“I am honored to be their keeper.” A sadness softened her features. “However, I do long to step outside of Asgard. Just once. The stories Thor and Freya tell me make me yearn to experience something more.”

There it was. My in.

A thrill rushed to my toes.

“Funny you bring that up.” I pushed off the tree and stepped before her, destroying the space between us. “I found something quite curious on Midgard.”

“You know what’s curious? The daisy!”

Keep it together, Loki…

“I’m sure you have a delightful little anecdote about that, but this was something more curious than a daisy,” I said. “It’s why I wanted to see you. No, needed to see you.”

I enjoyed how she quivered against my chest as I leaned in closer. Lavender and lilac rose from the crook of her neck.

“Idunn, I found another apple tree,” I whispered, letting my lips skate across her ear.

She gasped.

I pulled back.

“An apple tree?” she asked, her voice dry. “That can’t be possible! As I said, only six exist.”

She was going to make me work for it. Excellent. I loved when they made me work for it.

I grasped one of the knobby twigs, pretending to admire the waxed, pointed leaves.

“But its leaves were scalloped just as this one.” I ran my manicured fingertip over the ridges. “And the trunk was crusted in the same, hearty bark. And…a small, golden apple was growing on the highest branch.” Her mouth opened. “But, I’m no botany expert, which is why I sought out your advice.”

Her eyes lit.

“This is exceptional news,” she said. “If it’s true.”

I feigned a frown.

“You doubt me?” I asked.

She shook her head and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Of course not!” she said. “It’s only I would need to see this tree for myself before I can make any sound judgment. I don’t want to announce this discovery and it turn out we are mistaken. That’s all.”

“Then let me take you to it at once.”

I stepped back, enticing her to follow. Fanning the flames of her curiosity.

She only bit her lip. Remaining stubbornly in place. I twisted my silver and onyx ring around my middle finger. Everything rode on her answer…

“I’ve never left the garden before. I can’t leave my basket of apples unattended. It’s too dangerous.”

“That’s the wonderful things about baskets. They are highly portable,” I said. “Bring the apples along. I dare say it will make identifying the tree all the easier.”

“I don’t know…”

I sighed and stitched my face with the gravest of concern.

“I didn’t want to tell you before, but this tree is at risk.”

Her brow shot up towards her hairline.

“What do you mean?”

“Humans love to chop trees down for kindling for their fires, Idunn, and right now it’s winter there. The Midgardians are cold. It would be terribly tragic if some ignorant human drove their axe into this tree’s tender, fragile trunk.”

She shrieked, horror befalling her face.

“No!” she cried. “They wouldn’t!”

“They would,” I said. “I won’t keep you away long. We will pop down to Midgard and pop back here before supper. You told me you wanted to experience the world beyond your garden gate. This is your chance Idunn. A poor, innocent little tree’s life depends on you.”

There was that pang of guilt in my chest again. That small voice telling me I was a rogue.

I beat it back deep, deep down.

Pulling my lips into my most devastating smile, I held out my hand to her.

“What do you say?”

4

If it’s too Good to be True

Midgard

Switzerland

“Midgard is more wondrous than I ever imagined!” Idunn said.

Her eyes darted from the tops of the pine down to the thick moss covering the stones and boulders we passed.

“Everything is so green! And big. I didn’t realize how big this realm was…oh my gods!”

She screamed.

My heart thrust up into my throat.

I turned, tearing out my daggers, expecting a wolf or a bear. Maybe even an Ibex. Those could be quite testy.

“What?” I gazed sharply through the dense trees.

“Lily of the valley!” she screeched, her voice rising into decibels only a dog might hear.

She pointed at a patch of white flowers peeking through the pine duff. A smile tugged at her mouth as she fell to her knees and gently stroked one of the fragile, white bells on its slender stem. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply.

I raked my fingers through my hair and pulled in a calming breath.

Was she actually stopping to sniff the flowers?

The journey had been as I feared. Nonstop lessons on black-eye peas, dandelions, and the varied and numerous methods for repotting basil.

I would need a stiff drink after this to recover.

I sheathed my daggers back at my hips.

“My dear, remember what we talked about? We can’t keep having these interruptions every time you see a new sprig of ivy, or larch sapling,” I said. “We must reach the apple tree before nightfall when the forest wakes with hungry lynx’s.”

Before my time runs out with Thiazi…

I flexed my shoulders, trying to erase the burning sensation from already imagining Thiazi chopping through my back with his axe.

He better have the decency to sharpen it first, otherwise I would be highly peeved.

I walked on. She raced behind me as a puppy, her basket of golden apples bouncing at her side. Shards of light cut through the canopy and danced across our path.

“Did you know lily of the valley are not lilies at all? They actually belong to the asparagus family!”

“You don’t say?”

Did this woman ever stop to breathe?

We finally entered a clearing, hiking through soft grass sprinkled with deep blue gentians, purple lupines, and yellow globe flowers. I knew their names because Idunn identified each one as we carefully maneuvered between them, lest we squash one.

Hills of darkest green surrounded us, their tops lost in the mist sinking betwixt the pines.

I stopped.

We were here.

And it was show time.

“There!” I said, pointing at no spot in particular. “Can you see the apple tree?”

She squinted at the rippling field of silken grass.

“I only see cows.”

I scratched my chin.

“How odd. I can see the little tree from here. Way out near the horizon. Maybe getting a tad closer would help?”

She lifted her skirts, careful to avoid stomping on a clutch of rock jasmine and ventured out into the meadow.

I shot my gaze to the sky, searching for any hint of Thiazi in the blue that stretched far out to the snow capped mountains.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, breaking me from my concentration.

“I’m checking if a storm is coming, of course,” I lied. “The weather here is frightfully temperamental. I wouldn’t want you and your apples to get soaked in the rain.”

She smiled.

“How kind!” she said. “You really are more considerate than people give you credit for.”

Her naivety almost made my heart hurt from the adorableness.

She kept walking through the grass.

She didn’t notice the black shadow of an eagle following her.

I looked back to the sky. Thiazi soared high above in languid circles, his wings stiff against the wind. I smiled, happy to be done with this chore.

“Are you sure we are in the right place?” Idunn asked.

I waved at Thiazi, directing him straight to his prey. He swooped down towards her, his dark shadow nipping at her heels.

She still didn’t notice.

“Oh, I’m sure,” I said. “It’s right beyond that obese cow. I can see one of the tree’s twigs clear as day behind it.”

She headed for the cow, jumping every so often trying to see over its massive frame.

“I still don’t see it,” she said.

She spun around and faced me.

Her confusion melted into shock.

Thiazi cawed, opening his great talons.

She cried out and took off running. He was faster. He swooped down and grasped her shoulders tight.

She kicked and flailed, fighting him with delicate fists. Her basket slid down into the bend of her arm. She wouldn’t let it go.

Thiazi’s great wings cracked through the air. He lifted her and her basket off the ground, her feet dangling.

“Loki! Help me!” she begged.

I shrugged.

“Afraid that’s going to be a no,” I said. “You’re Thiazi’s headache now.”

Idunn’s face turned as red as one of her beloved beets, finally understanding.

“You tricked me!” she screamed. “You really are as bad as they say! You son of a bitch!”

I slapped my hand over my heart, honored. I was the first to ever get that woman to curse. This was the most I ever liked her.

Thiazi raced East towards Jotunheim with Idunn and out of my life forever.

“Have a lovely trip!” I called out after her.

Satisfaction pulled at my lips. Victory rushed through my veins.

Yet, annoyingly, I couldn’t shake the feeling this would somehow come back to bite me.

But that was silly.

Wasn’t it?

Asgard

Slender fingers slipped beneath my tunic, their nails grazing my skin in thin lines of fire. Laces snapped, and seams popped.

A second set of hands joined in. These stronger.

Open mouthed kisses crushed across my bare shoulders. Tumbled down my sides.

Desire tightened in my core, lost between the writhing muscles of a man and the cradling softness of a woman’s breasts.

What better way to celebrate saving my own skin than by throwing a simple party? A delicious mix of friends for fun, and enemies for sport. All debauched, all extravagant, all unrestrained.

Giggling filled my ears, mixing with the pounding of vibrant music. Recorders wailed over strumming lutes, fluttering tambourines, and hammering drums.

Curious, I broke my kiss with an exceptionally chiseled man. A gaggle of women raced around us playing cat and mouse with a woman with fire flushed cheeks. Her blue eyes spoke of salacious secrets, and when she wet her full, red lips…

She darted towards me, jumping into my open arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist, knocking over a bowl of pomegranates. They split against the marble floor in an explosion of glittering seeds.

“I’m yours, if you desire,” I said.

She kissed me in reply, diving her tongue into my mouth.

What can I say? They always wanted me.

She tasted of oranges. Heat built. Want deepened.

She dove her fingers into my hair. I ran my hands along the curves and arcs of her body. All my blood rushed from my head down to my, well…

The cacophony of passion and excess swelling in my ears faded as I carried her outside to my balcony. The air was cold as I sucked it into my lungs.

I pressed her back against the stone railing. Wind tore through her hair. The ocean crashed below her, rough and torrential.

That would be the only thing rough and torrential tonight.

I held onto her hips, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. She moaned as I filled her, and I bit my lip as she dug her pointed nails into my back. Those sweet bites of pain always careened me towards the edge…

Crack!

The door to my rooms burst open.

I looked over my shoulder through the open archway.

Thor stood amidst a sea of writhing bodies. His mouth fell open behind his dense, fiery red beard.

I don’t know why. It’s not like this was the first time he ever walked in on one of my little parties.

He covered his eyes as he walked around men wrestling on the bear fur rug, their chests naked and backs glistening with sweat. Entangled couples moaned on chairs, tables, and whatever sturdy surface they could find.

The woman pulled out of my arms and slunk away as Thor approached me.

“You really have excellent timing,” I said.

He crossed his muscled arms over his broad chest and stared with his small eyes at some place behind me. He was such a prude.

“Must you always do everything to excess?” he asked. “The poor maids will have to give the room a good scrubbing.”

If ever there was a party pooper.

“Excess? I’ve not had such a soirée since three days ago! That’s positively shameful,” I said. “But, I’ll be sure to keep the noise down, so you can go on your merry way.”

I shooed him away.

He stepped towards me, his steps heavy. He rubbed the back of his neck, still not meeting my eyes.

“That’s not why I’m here,” he said. “And by great Odin’s ravens, put on some clothes!”

He picked up one of the myriad of tunics on the ground and threw it at me. I sighed, holding it in front of me. He finally looked at me.

“You’re really are annoying when you get in such a tizzy!”

He bared his teeth, shocking white against the deep red of his hair.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Love to, can’t,” I said. “As you can see, I’m rather indisposed.”

I walked past him, but he pushed me back.

“Ok, this is getting rather rude now,” I said.

“Odin has taken ill,” he blurted. “He’s…he’s dying.”

The ocean roared in my ears as noises blurred and swelled and I felt myself plunged in its icy depths.

5

Only a Flesh Wound

Odin’s yellow skin looked coated with a sheen of wax. His cheeks sank between his jaws, and bands of gray circled his eyes. If I didn’t see his chest rise with shallow breaths, I would think him a corpse.

Frigg sat beside him on a bed thick with wool coverlets and bear furs. Fire raged in the hearth behind them, outlining her hand in gold as she stroked his hair. She whispered words to him I could not hear.

I spun my onyx ring on my middle finger. I usually prided myself on my unshakeable composure. On possessing a petrified heart that could not be troubled by emotion and sentiment.

But this…

It reminded me I did have a heart after all, and that it could break.

A servant rushed in and placed a collection of salves and herbs on the table next to Odin. The delicate clinks of glass proved a welcome distraction to not think of the emotions threatening to consume me whole. To not think of the suffocating stench of death and rosemary.

“He was a picture of health not yesterday,” I breathed to Tyr.

“He took a turn in the night,” he replied.

“How?” I whispered. “From what?”

He grimaced and stepped next to Odin’s side. He lifted back his blanket.

Odin’s shirt lay open and a sheet of sweat glistened over his skin. My eyes trailed down to the wound from Thiazi’s blade across his abdomen.

My breath caught in my throat.

The slice festered and flesh rotted where steel had met muscle. Spreading out from the wound raced spider webs of black veins up his chest and around his stomach.

“Thiazi’s blade was poisoned,” he said.

I swallowed. The weight of it all crushed me.

I’d seen this before.

Poisoned blades were a favorite of the Jotun’s. They delighted in experimenting on prisoners and criminals to perfect the most painful and lethal brew.

“Once it reaches his heart…” I trailed off. Unable to say it.

He’ll die.

I couldn’t stop looking at Odin’s pale face. I’d often wished him dead in moments of anger. Imagined him with broken arms, broken skull. And now that I might truly lose him…

Shame heated my skin for having ever taken him for granted.

“Balder has gone to fetch Idunn,” Thor said, his voice far away though he stood next to me. “Only one of her apples can save him now.”

Oh…

This was awkward.

An odd sensation pulled at my guts, twisting and gnawing. I believed it guilt.

He’s going to die. He’s going to die, and it’s all your fault! You gave away the only thing that can save him!

I had to get Idunn back from Thiazi before it was too late.

And, I’ll admit, it would be a nice bonus if I could find her before Balder returned with the news she wasn’t coming and they started asking questions…

Best to avoid that nastiness.

I made to leave.

“Loki…” Odin’s voice rasped.

I stopped. I turned, wishing I didn’t have to. Also wishing to see nothing else than his face staring back at me.

“You are a lazy bastard still in bed at this hour.” I had to force each word. I hated it. I hated everything about this.

A weak smile tugged at his thin lips.

“Poison will do that to you,” he replied.

Silence.

He slid his hand out towards me.

“Stay with me,” he said.

I slowly reached out and took his hand. My muscles tightened. His hand felt like someone else’s. Cold and foreign.

“You are always so needy,” I said, not knowing what else to say. Not knowing if I was even capable of saying the truth.

I believed myself drowning.

I was so good at many things, and so bad at this.

I traced his knuckles with my thumb, memorizing every arc and dip. He pressed his fingers softly into my palm.

You always hurt everyone, Loki.

His hand weakened and his eye closed as he drifted away somewhere I could not follow.

Resolve pounded with every strike of my heart. I would not let Odin die.

“You!”

Shit.

Balder stood in the doorway seething and pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me.

Balder the beautiful. Son of Odin and Frigg and the jewel of his mother’s eye. Perfect hair, perfect complexion, perfectly horrid.

“What did you do?” He squeezed each word through his straight teeth. His dark blond hair fell across his forehead.

Frigg stood up from the bed.

Thor took a step toward me.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” I said. “As it is, I’m utterly in the dark.”

Rule number one. Never admit to anything until the charges are laid at your feet. And even then lie. Lie until your pants are on fire.

“My father will die because of you!”

I hated the bite of truth in his words. Technicalities could always be a bitch.

“The only thing killing your father is the poison from Thiazi’s blade,” I growled. “Now stand aside.”

Rage flashed behind his vivid blue eyes, and he lunged at me. He wrapped his hands into my tunic and pulled me against him. I did like him all riled up, but right now, he was in my way.

I kicked him in the groin and shoved him off me. He grunted. I might have enjoyed the pain etching his face from his throbbing balls a bit too much.

“What’s gotten into you, Balder?” Tyr asked.

“Idunn is gone, as are her apples,” he rasped. “Bragi told me the last he saw her she was with Loki, arm in arm, walking towards Bifrost.”

They all glared at me. They all moved in closer.

This was a particularly sour pickle.

“I’d really love to stay and have a chat about this, but afraid I have an errand to run.”

I made for the door. I would not let them stop me from saving Odin.

“You aren’t going anywhere before I break your bones first!” Thor shouted.

Thor gripped my belt and tossed me against the stone wall. Why did he always have to resort to physical threats? Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

Tyr unsheathed his sword. Frigg pulled out an extremely sharp knife, although, that didn’t surprise me. She always waited for any moment to skin me alive. I guess you could describe our relationship as complicated.

Thor pressed me harder into the wall.

“What were you doing with Idunn?” he asked. “If you don’t spit out the truth, I will…”

I yawned.

“Wring me neck?” I interrupted. “Break my bones? You really must find something new one of these days. This ‘you grab me and threaten me thing’ got old a millennia ago.”

His eyes burned with anger and his teeth shone white behind his red beard.

“You want something new?” he asked.

“If it isn’t too much trouble.”

He threw me on the ground so hard I thought the stone broke beneath me. Or was that my spine?

He sat on my chest and squeezed the breath out of me. He gripped his great hammer, Mjolnir, and hovered it an inch above my forehead. I could feel the chill from the steel sink into my skin.

“Maybe an adjustment of that sharp face of yours would better suit you?”

He pressed Mjolnir’s against my nose until the delicate bones threatened to snap.

“Yes, I think a nice, crooked nose would suit you well. Then we can move on to the cheeks, and after that, the chin.”

Second rule. When it comes to the face…

“Let’s not get too hasty,” I mumbled beneath his hammer. “It’s really quite funny when you think about it. You’re all going to get a big laugh when I tell you.”

He lifted Mjolnir away.

“Then why do I feel like I want to smash your brains out?”

Tough crowd.

“You have to understand. Thiazi was quite persuasive, and his threats detailed and vivid if I didn’t give him Idunn.”

“Thiazi has her? You bastard!” Frigg cried. Her excruciatingly pinched face tightened. “How could you do that?”

“It’s not like he gave me much choice in the matter.”

“Of course. How convenient,” Tyr said.

I rolled my eyes.

“Actually, it was very inconvenient. He dragged me across half the damn alps until I conceded. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone would even notice her missing.”

“Typical you,” Tyr said, cutting me off. “Do you ever think about consequences?”

“Not if I can help it,” I replied.

Thor lifted his hammer, as if preparing to smash it into my skull.

“As it is,” I blurted. “I’m the only one that can rescue her.”

He lowered his hammer again.

“I know Thiazi’s fortress better than any of you. I can get Idunn back,” I said. “Let me fix this.”

“You’re damn right you will fix this,” Thor said.

He got off of me.

I stood and brushed myself off.

“I’m glad you’ve seen reason. I will be off and return with her by evening.”

Tyr laughed.

“You? Go alone? That’s hilarious,” he said. “Thor and I will accompany you.”

Ok, now this was a threat that seriously got my attention.

“How about you don’t and say we did?” I said. “You’ll only get in my way.”

“After this stunt, do you really think we can trust you?”

Point made.

“Probably not, but this time is an exception.”

“How so?”

I paused. I tried to push down the emotion that threatened to rise up again.

“Because, this is about Odin.”

Thor nodded. A gravity I’d rarely seen in him set his jaw.

“And that’s why Tyr and I are going with you.”

6

A Sticky Situation

Jotunheim

I pulled my cloak and furs tighter around my chin as we hiked through a dense forest of pine.

The wind howled down from the north after racing through desolate and high mountain ranges. It gave Jotunheim that particular chill that made you question why you even submitted yourself to such weather.

“No wonder Jotuns always have a bug up their butt,” Thor grumbled, tugging his furs closed around his chest. “My cheeks are raw and eyes nearly frozen solid.”

Pinecones dropped from the scraggly branches around us, plinking off each twig before landing softly in the pine duff beneath our feet.

“You just need thicker blood,” I said. “This is a warm summer’s day!”

Jotunheim was a realm of extremes. Summer was glorious. Lush valleys of green. Lakes of deepest blue sparkling beneath a sun that refused to set.

But winter made you pay dearly for it. The snows were deep. The cold set in your bones, and the darkness never ceased.

“Just be glad Thiazi doesn’t live in the far north with the titan clans,” Tyr said. “Those Jotuns grow so large they could crush any of us between their fingers.”

Thor snorted in indignation.

“I’d like to see them try,” he said.

Please.

He nearly wet himself the last time we traversed through their harsh lands. There we heard whispers of ice giants being sighted. These monsters were more legend than fact, but one never knows, and I didn’t want to find out.

I stopped.

“There.” I pointed at a massive fortress of limestone far in the distance. “I’d say another twenty minutes and we will be at the gates.”

“Then let’s move it,” Tyr said.

He started down the hill.

“Hold up. You realize if we go through with your idiotic plan, we will be dead?” I said. “You can’t just knock on the door and jab your swords into their stomachs.”

He turned to me and glared.

“We agreed to this plan before we left,” he pushed through gritted teeth.

“You agreed. I told you it was shit. This requires stealth and cunning. Let me go ahead…”

“So you can get out of our sight to betray us for the hundredth time?” Thor asked. “That is a capital joke.”

He really did hold a grudge.

“We keep to the plan,” Tyr said, eyeing me.

I shrugged.

“It’s your funerals. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We continued down the forest path towards the fortress.

My skin tingled. A rush of cold air swept down my back.

We weren’t alone anymore.

I put out my arm, stopping Thor and Tyr.

“What in the blazes…”

“Shhh…”

Twigs snapped around us. Thor held out Mjolnir, and Tyr took out his broadsword.

I heard the nock of an arrow and the stretch of a bow.

Twang!

An arrow flew through the pines right towards my chest.

I snatched it out of midair, a breath before the arrow head pierced my flesh.

I smiled.

They never failed to welcome me home.

“Must we do this every time?” I asked.

I snapped the arrow in half and threw it into the pine duff.

“One of these days your reflexes will falter and I will finally kill you,” a familiar voice replied from the woods.

I chuckled.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jorg,” I said.

Jorg stepped out behind a large spruce, reindeer furs draped over his broad shoulders. Though middle aged, his skin was weathered from years of ice fishing and hunting.

He ran his fingers thick with silver rings down his brown, wiry beard, shaking his head at me.

“You dare trespass on our lands with those two?” he asked, pointing at Tyr and Thor. “We barely tolerate you.”

Good ol’ Jorg. Always a peach. Always fussy about territory.

I looked at my nails, inspecting the smooth edges.

“Pay them no attention,” I said. “I must see Thiazi.”

Thor pushed past me.

“Yes, I need to crack open his skull in recompense.”

I pulled him back, staring daggers into him to shut up or else.

I turned back to Jorg and forced a laugh.

“What he’s trying to say is, well, we ran into a little snafu with a deal Thiazi and I made. If we can come to an accord, we will be on our way and out of your hair.”

Laughter shook the forest.

Thiazi stepped out behind another tree and stood beside Jorg. A twisted smile tugged at his lips, making me feel like punching him in the face. But now wasn’t the time for that.

“I’d knew you’d come,” Thiazi said. “The poison must be nearing Odin’s heart by now. Pity you have no apples to save him.”

I narrowed my eyes. Something devious lingered behind his words. As if he were quite proud of himself.

“Yes, it is a great pity,” I said. “You’ve had your fun, but I know Idunn must be making your ears bleed by now. Call it a day, and you give her back to us. Trust me, you’re getting the better end of this bargain.”

“Why would I do that when Odin’s just how I want him?”

“Explain,” Thor said.

Laughter glinted behind his eyes as he stared at Thor.

“I never wanted the apples for immortality. I wanted the apples to ensure my poison killed Odin. Without Idunn, he is vulnerable. He is finally able to be slain.”

Tyr stepped forward, his grip hard on the hilt of his sword.

“You will pay for this injustice,” he growled.

Thiazi laughed.

Thunder cracked over our heads as Thor strengthened his hold on his hammer. Wind gusted through the branches, splitting more pinecones off twigs.

“Injustice?” Thiazi repeated. “I think it very just after what he’s all done. After all the blood he’s spilled. No, if anything, I’ve done you, and all the Nine Realms, a big favor.” He turned his gaze to me. “Especially you, Loki.”

I ground my teeth.

He did it now.

Unsheathing both my daggers at my hip, I pointed my right blade at Thiazi’s throat.

“Give us Idunn,” I spat. “And after, as a mercy, I will make sure your death is quick, instead of slow.”

He chuckled.

“Still the spitfire I remember,” he said. “But it’s too late for Odin. It’s too late for all of you.”

Pounding echoed in the distance. The ground quaked beneath my boots as it drew closer. Sticks cracked and gravel crunched beneath trampling feet as nearly fifty Jotun warriors flooded out of the forest and attacked us.

Shit.

I brought my blades up over my head in time to block the blow of a burly warrior woman with a mace. I kicked her back in the stomach. Her grunt melted into the clashing and scraping of metal and battle.

I told Thor and Tyr this was a stupid plan.

But damn! The rush of certain peril was amazing.

I dropped one warrior to my right. I turned and sliced the throat of a second to my left.

Thor’s eyes flashed white as he called upon his element of thunder. Lightning raced down his arms, sparking and spitting over Mjolnir.

He screamed, lunging at a group of ten Jotuns, whacking one in the jaw, and another straight through the chest.

Pulling back his hammer, he swung it again, striking three warriors and sending them flying against a solid pine tree.

Pinecones fell like hail, and the split of broken tibias and clavicles lit my blood.

A man raced me with a double handed sword, his heavy armor shining in the light. I jumped to the left, letting him fly past me and bury his sword into a rotten stump instead of my flesh.

I grounded my steps, hungering for his blood.

“Any day now,” I said. “Or are you going to keep teasing me?”

He clenched his teeth, his jaw flexing. His annoyance might as well have been a glass of fine wine to me.

He twirled his sword towards my head.

Catching his sword between my daggers, I twisted my right arm with his. We wrestled as he tried to pull free. My shoulders struck against a spruce, and his back whacked a fir. More pinecones fell on us.

He would not give up!

Thank gods!

I loved a decent fight, and the more they struggled, the more it only promised to heighten the satisfaction when I finally plunged my blade into their chest.

A woman snuck up from behind, swinging her mace and taking advantage of my current situation.

Keeping he and I tangled, I braced myself against him. In a second, I wrenched his sword around. His blade slid into her chest as she ran herself through. In another second, I released him and lunged my left dagger into his chest.

He fell at my feet.

Pine and blood filled my lungs.

Nothing beat this.

I ducked as a Jotun flew over my head and landed against a rock. Thor continued to whack Mjolnir through the throng of warriors.

Tyr sliced his broadsword through the stomachs of three men, only to spin around and stab the arteries of another in the leg. Blood sprayed out, drenching his tunic and furs.

The deafening snap of tree trunks cut through the roar of death and metal and everything amazing.

I turned on my heel.

An immense boulder barreled down the hill towards us, splitting pine and spruce. I scrambled away and fell to the right, narrowly avoiding being flattened as it thundered on by. A rather gnarled warrior was not so lucky. A pop and a squish and gone she was.

I tried to get up, but Jorg was already on me. He nocked another arrow and drew back the string. The sharp arrow pointed right at my chest. Sweat and blood covered his face.

“Let’s see you catch this now,” he said.

“Oh dear,” I said. “I am petrified.”

He grinned and pulled the bow tighter, the wood groaning beneath his fingers.

I called up my element. Fire spread through my body and seared down to my fingertips. Flames blazed within my eyes.

I forced out a spiral of fire through my palms, directing the twisting conflagration at his gut. I blew him back in a beautiful arc of pain and surprise. His arrow shot into the air.

Standing, I let my fire flow down my daggers, every inch of me flickering in flames.

I smiled as I cracked the bones in my neck ready for more. I set my sights on a group of wide eyed Jotuns.

They attacked, and I sliced one’s throat, their flesh searing from the glowing metal of my blade. I sent a fireball at another. A dagger came down. I locked my blade behind the warrior’s wrist, scalding his skin. He screamed, and I pulled his arms down, allowing me to pommel his jaw and stab the delicate flesh between his neck and shoulder.

They dropped at my feet as I worked my way through them, burning and cutting.

Thor slammed Jotuns left and right. He jumped and brought his hammer down, lightning ricocheting off of their chests.

Tyr buried his blade into the guts of a Jotun twice his size.

It was not in a Jotun’s nature to give up. They’d keep coming until they were all dead. Or we were. And I really didn’t feel like dying today, not when Odin’s life depended on us succeeding.

My stomach twisted as his gaunt cheeks formed in my mind. At the black poison racing towards his heart…Time was running out.

I looked out at Thiazi’s fortress where Idunn was imprisoned. We were so close. But no, Thor and Tyr insisted I follow their idiotic plan, and now we were out here fighting Thiazi’s best warriors, while the fortress remained mostly unguarded.

Hold up.

I smiled at the boldness of the opportunity facing me clear as day.

This was almost too easy.

7

Hazelnuts and Bruises

I hated leaving a fabulous fight, but I had to do what as necessary to save Odin’s life.

Making sure Tyr and Thor were distracted slicing through Jotun flesh, I snuffed out my fire.

Snapping my fingers, I stepped out of a perfect mirror image of myself. Illusions were a speciality of mine. Always handy in times like this to keep the others off my trail.

I couldn’t help admiring how my hair moved like flames as my duplicate jabbed and parried. I truly was a masterpiece.

I dashed through the forest. Twigs popped beneath my boots as I wove between the packed pine.

My heart raced from the exhilaration of it all, determination surging with every thunderous pulse.

I made countless sacrifices for Odin. Endured aggravation. Suffered pain.

And I’d do it all again. And again. For him.

For us.

A thought I didn’t want to admit fluttered by. If I failed, this would be the last thing I ever did for Odin.

I ignored the tightness in my throat.

I ran faster.

The fortress rose higher above my head the closer I got. I smiled knowing it well, and knowing Thiazi better. The man had a devastating weakness. He was a poseur.

He only used one room for any special guest and stuffed it with all his best furnishings. Gaudy chairs, heavy tapestries, silk quilts, and velvet everything else. He loved to show off.

Sadly for Thiazi, he had no taste, and all his decorating only proved him to be a country boy pretending to be a sophisticate.

If Idunn was anywhere, it would be in that hideous room. He wouldn’t take this chance to miss showing off his best to a goddess.

Approaching from the West, I slipped out of the forest and onto the green surrounding the fortress. I spent much of my youth in his keep, which allowed me to learn all the entry points. And which were weakest.

I slunk towards the wall covered in moss and ivy.

A guard.

I crouched low in the grass. He pissed on a rock and yawned.

Thiazi’s brightest and strongest hard at work.

The guard distracted, I kept moving towards my intended target.

Standing before the West wall, I craned back my neck, taking in the towering, solid structure.

Well, this wall wasn’t going to climb itself.

I gripped the stone, grinding my nails into the mortar. I scaled my way up the wall to the window at the highest point. Because, of course, the room where Idunn would be was the highest one. It had the best view, after all.

Wind beat against me, rippling through my clothes as I clambered upwards. My heel slipped on a thick pad of moss.

My legs flailed beneath me as I clung to the stones, the biting edge of the rock digging into my fingertips.

I looked down.

All the way down.

I could already feel the wind against my face, and the crack of my neck breaking.

I loved collecting any and all experiences, but this one was a hard pass.

Finding a small ledge, I pressed my boot into it and regained my hold.

I climbed higher.

Birds flew past me as I could see over the tree tops, out over the lakes, valleys, and mountains.

Gripping the windowsill, I hoisted myself up and opened the leaded window. Heat from a crackling fire warmed my cheeks as I searched the room for Idunn. I only saw dusty tapestries covering white plaster walls, and heavy, gilded furniture crammed in every available inch.

Where was she?

I walked across a bearskin rug towards a massive, inlaid oak wardrobe. I peeked inside. Then behind. Empty.

“Idunn?” I whispered, scanning the long shadows from the ornately carved chest and lacquered table.

One of the shadows moved.

Pain split across my skull, followed by the twang of twisting strings and splintering wood.

My star studded vision steadied on Idunn’s shocked face. She held the neck of a broken lute. I was beginning to have serious second thoughts about this entire rescue mission.

“Is this how you greet all your rescuers?” I asked.

I rubbed my head. A bump already emerged. If this made my hair not lay right…

“Loki? I thought you were one of Thiazi’s men,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought that obvious. I’m here to bring you back to Asgard.”

Her expression hardened with anger. She slapped me across the face. A dizzying sting spread over my cheek. I smiled, impressed by this new her.

“As much as I enjoy this vicious side of you, we really must be going.”

I gripped her arm and pulled her towards the door.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She wrenched herself free.

I frowned.

“You never make anything easy, do you?” I asked. “I’m your only choice of freedom, unless you prefer to remain living with these garish furnishings.”

I pulled my lips back in disgust catching sight of the lace doilies beneath every vase and candlestick. That look was so a thousand years ago.

She crossed her arms and sat on the sheepskin rug.

“No. Because I know you’re only here because you got caught. I don’t want to give you the benefit of having returned me. I won’t help you.”

I narrowed my eyes. I hated the seed of desperation she grew in my gut. Few made me feel desperate, and the fact it was her was the cherry on top.

Fine.

“Odin is dying,” I pushed out. The words burned my mouth.

Her eyes widened.

“Dying?”

“He has been poisoned. He needs your apples. Thor and Tyr are here, too. If you won’t come for my benefit so be it, but come for Odin.” This next word hurt. “Please.”

I didn’t like how my voice turned into gravel. Bloody emotions. Stupid things I had no use for, yet something deep and fierce tugged at me, pulling me down somewhere I could not escape.

Sympathy filled her face. Defiance soon chased it away.

“You say Thor and Tyr are with you?”

I cleared my throat, forcing myself back to the surface.

“Yes.”

“I will wait for them.”

“Did you not hear me? We don’t have the time,” I ground out. “They are in the middle of a battle.”

“I don’t know why, but something about you handing me over to Thiazi doesn’t fill me with much confidence in what you say.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Done.

She had to be kidding me. Although, I suppose I couldn’t really blame her.

I guess I had to move on to plan B.

I needed her more portable.

Most needed runes to perform magic, like Frigg. It was the only way she could focus her powers. Odin was somewhat skilled at charms. Especially the dark ones.

As for me, I didn’t have to rely on a bit of carved bone or lengthy spells to channel my magic. Another point that made me rather unique.

I stiffened my hands, concentrating on imagining her as what I desired her to become.

She backed away. Too late.

A yelp. A pop. The click of a hard shell falling to stone.

I should have done this from the beginning.

Bending down, I plucked a small hazelnut off the floor. I cradled her in my palm.

“I asked nicely,” I told her. “This is on you, really.”

I dove her deep into my pouch.

The door swung open.

“Loki Laufeyjarson,” a voice I’d not heard in ages said.

Shit.

I turned. Skadi. Thiazi’s daughter.

She walked in, a devious smile on her red lips. Her black hair was pulled back severely and twisted in a tight braid. Vibrant gray eyes laughed set deep beneath her elegant but defined brow.

“Skadi! Lovely to see you again, but afraid I was on my way out.”

I walked towards her aiming for the door behind her rigid frame. She stepped directly in my way.

Cheeky.

“I’ve not seen you since you ran off to Asgard,” she said. “Is everything still peachy with you and Odin?”

“Always rainbows and kittens.”

I tried to step around her. Again, she blocked me. I didn’t know if this little game annoyed me or excited me more.

She raised her perfect eyebrow towards her hairline.

“Really?” she asked. “Funny, then, that your fighting can be heard across the entire Nine Realms.”

“What’s wrong with keeping things spicy?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Tell me, was selling yourself to the Aesir worth abandoning your clan?"

“I can’t believe you’re all still so bitter about that,” I said. “You know I had no place in Jotunheim.”

Another pang of emotion struck me. Damn, I had to work on that.

“And you do there?” she asked, tilting her head. “No one can trust Odin. I don’t understand why you do.”

I sneered, running my fingers through my copper hair.

“Is this concern, Skadi?” I asked. “Are you afraid for me? How cute.”

Her features turned serious.

“You know he doesn’t do anything without a reason,” she said. “And that includes sharing each other’s blood.”

“Yes, you were very vocal about this in the past,” I snapped. “Maybe the reason is that unlike you lot, he saw something in me. My potential. My chaos.”

She looked at me as if I were a sweet fool.

“Or maybe it’s simply because he saw something in you he fears. Something you are unwilling to see…”

She was walking on dangerous ground. I didn’t like her words, because I knew they could be true. No. They weren’t. They were only ridiculous.

Weren’t they?

“He and I are bonded by blood. Odin might be a son-of-a-bitch sometimes, well, most of the time, but I will not break my oath to him, nor he to I.”

She shook her head.

“Your fealty is inspiring,” she said. “I hope it won’t ever bite you in the ass.”

I chuckled.

“What is life without a little risk?” I asked. “Now, if you excuse me.”

I approached the door. She pressed her open hand against my chest, and pushed me back. Heat sparked where her fingers touched my flesh. Still a brazen vixen. I liked it.

“I can’t let you leave with Idunn,” she said. “I know you have her concealed somewhere on your person.”

“It could be our little secret.”

I reached for her arm, trailing my hand down her cool skin until I grazed her fingertips with my own.

We’d shared many a night together. It all came back to me in a rush of heated memories. The sweating, the clawing…until she’d flip me over and off we went again. The woman couldn’t get enough of me, and I couldn’t blame her. I was exceptional.

“As a favor to me,” I said. “For old time’s sake.”

“You seem to think I enjoyed the old times.”

She smiled a deadly smile. All my blood rushed between my legs.

I leaned in.

“Funny,” I whispered in her ear. “I recall you screaming out ‘fantastic’ after I did that thing with an artichoke and a drinking horn.”

Her eyes flashed. In a second, cold steel pressed against my quickening pulse at the base of my throat. I smiled, loving the bite of the blade.

“Give her to me,” she said. “Or I will slice you open and drain you dry.”

“When you put it that way…”

I gripped her wrist, wrenching her dagger away from my neck and raced my own blade towards her chest. She unsheathed a second dagger with her free hand, blocking my blow.

The clang of metal filled the room as our blades struck and scraped against one another in a frenzy of jabs and thrusts.

She locked my arm within hers and pulled me tight against her. I could feel her pulse. It matched the pounding of my own.

She was marvelous with blades. It set everything in me ablaze.

“You didn’t use to be so easy to catch,” she said. “You really are losing your touch.”

Now that was insulting.

I turned in her hold, twisting my arm around hers. I disarmed her, tearing her dagger out of her grip and throwing it to the ground. It clattered across the stones spinning out of her reach.

I straightened my tunic.

“Now, if you do excuse me.”

She narrowed her eyes. Her cheeks were bright crimson.

“I’ve not given up yet,” she said.

She pulled out a sword from above the fireplace and pointed the gleaming tip at my Adam’s apple.

“Good, otherwise this would have been a dull fight.”

I crossed both my daggers over my head blocking her strike as she brought her sword down. I kicked her back. She rushed me again.

Sharp edges kissed our flesh as we fought, each promising gore and death.

The excitement of it all coiled heat deep within me. The thought of her piercing one of my kidneys was glorious!

I brought my dagger up, aiming for her side, but she got me first. Her sword cut through my tunic like butter, leaving a thin red scrape on my skin.

“Respectable,” I said. “I hope you can do better, though.”

I tore the tunic off. Cold air chilled the sweat dripping down my back.

Lunging at her, our blades crossed. We leaned into each other, pressing our weapons together until they quivered.

Her eyes trailed down the hard and lean muscles of my stomach.

“Now this is much more enjoyable,” she said.

Circling my arm, I locked her blade and closed the distance between us, destroying it inch by inch as I backed her against the wall. The tapestries let out a puff of dust.

I cut my dagger through her stays, revealing a thin smock beneath. Her eyes darkened.

“Well, fair is fair,” I said, leaning closer into her, our lips but an inch apart.

Her breath rolled hot over my naked shoulders. Sweat dampened her hair at the nape of her neck.

She leaned closer in, anticipation tingling my blood wanting to feel her lips against mine.

Pain shot through my gut instead. She kicked me back, sending me stumbling over the broken lute and falling unto the bear skin rug.

My body burned hotter for her.

But two could play this game.

I swung my leg around, catching her ankle, sending her crashing to the ground next to me. I stood over her. She pointed up her sword directly over my heart.

I pressed her sword between my daggers, moving her blade past my shoulder as slowly knelt over her. My daggers scratched down the length of her sword.

Skadi’s eyes sparked, and a devilish hunger took root in them.

She thrusted her sword in an arc, breaking free and scrambled to her feet.

She twisted her arm and latched her blade behind my wrist, pulled down, and brought it back up with vicious speed pommeling my jaw. A nice crack filled my head.

I broke free, tasting hot copper on my tongue. Excitement flushed down me. Not many had ever made me bleed.

Our blades met again, clashing over our heads, pressing against each other we brought them down between us, our faces inches apart. Heat coursed through my veins. Her gaze darkened further.

Our lips met, consuming the other in heat and roiling passion. Our blades fell at our feet. Our hands found each other’s bodies.

Sensible? Not really. But being sensible always gave me a headache.

Her fingers burned my naked flesh as she ran them down my chest. And then lower.

We fell onto the four poster bed, sinking into layers of feather and straw mattresses. She straddled me, pressing her knees into my sides and scraping her ringed fingers down the length of my arms. I had no more blood in my body except for one place…

Skadi gripped my wrists in her one hand and pressed them into the feather pillows. Her nails dug into my skin, each granting a dizzying prick of pain. I loved where this was going.

She lowered her face to mine. I readied to take her mouth a second time, but she whispered in my ear instead.

“I thought you stronger than to fall for this.”

The sharp bite of a knife pressed into my jugular notch.

I looked into her eyes. Murder reflected back at me. We could have had such fun.

“You aren’t enough to tempt me to forget my loyalties, Loki,” she said.

I chuckled.

“Ditto.”

I was sorry to burst her bubble, but she was right where I wanted her.

I only had seconds. She raised her arm and drove her weapon towards my stomach. I snapped my fingers.

Creating another illusion, I split myself and rolled out from beneath her, leaving the fake me between her thighs.

Scrambling to my feet, I shot for the door before she had time to notice how her dagger drew no blood. I let the illusion dissolve, and she collapsed into the mattresses.

Her brow squeezed together with confusion.

“What the…” she breathed.

“I know, a nasty little trick,” I said. Her eyes snapped to mine. “But definitely worth it for the look on your face. Priceless.”

Anger stiffened her muscles. I drank it in. I loved the outrage.

She screamed and jumped off the bed and ran towards me. I laughed, jumping outside the door. I slammed it shut and locked her in. She pounded against the wood, causing the hinges to creak.

“You’re dead!” she yelled.

“Maybe next time,” I said.

I took a few steps down the hall, celebrating my victory.

“You think yourself so clever,” she said. “You should know you just can’t take Idunn. My father put a spell on her. He will know when she leaves the fortress. I wish I could see it when he rips you apart.”

Now that was a problem.

8

Birds of a Feather

I sprinted towards the great hall. Two guards spotted me. I knew them. Rollo and Sigmund. Unpleasant at best. Cruel at worst.

I made a mad dash for the kitchens instead.

I skidded to a stop, nearly barreling into a hefty woman holding a loaf of bread in one hand, and a hunk of blue cheese in the other.

“Stop him!” Rollo shouted.

I didn’t have time to deal with any more fun filled reunions.

Light poured in from a high, open window. I smiled.

What was a brave escape without a little flourish?

The woman growled and dropped her goods, trying to grab at my trousers with thick knuckles. Rollo and Sigmund barreled behind me, their armor clattering against the flagstones.

In three seconds I shifted into my falcon aspect, sprouting wings and a beak, and slipping right between the woman’s grubby fingers.

Out the window I flew, racing back to Asgard with Idunn.

I had to make speed. If what Skadi said was true about Thiazi’s enchantment…

I had minutes before he was alerted.

Wind tore through my feathers and trees sprinted beneath me as I kept pushing forward. The great river Ifingr sparkled as it curved and bowed in the distance, dividing Jotun and Asgardian lands.

I raced towards it.

As did the shadow behind me.

I dared a glance back. Thiazi came up on me fast and wicked, flying in his eagle aspect. He cawed, his wings cracking through the wind currents like thunder.

My throat dried.

Usually such things would have excited me, but this was about Odin.

I pushed myself harder. Faster.

My muscles burned, but I didn’t care. I leaned into the air for more speed, forcing all I had out of myself.

Thiazi gained on me. He nipped at my tail feathers. The bastard. I dove, spinning, putting any and all distance between us I could.

He followed, swooping towards me, his great wings snapping the air.

We crossed the river. We flew in Asgardian lands. I kept my vision firmly before me.

Fatigue started to work on me.

I was slowing.

The Asgard’s grand halls came into view.

Thiazi plucked out one of my tail feathers. I started to tumble.

One more attack and…

I dove between the pine trees, hoping to lose him within the tangle of branches. He followed.

For two heartbeats, I thought I might fail.

Fail?

I didn’t fail.

I just found another way.

The orange flash of a spark caught my eyes. A farmer struck a flint over a heap of dried wood.

I aimed right for it, only needing good timing and for Thiazi to not notice the spray of sparks shooting from the farmer’s flint. One ember was all it would take...

Thiazi followed, trying to grab more of my feathers. To sink his extra sharp talons into my back and pull out my liver.

The farmer kept striking the flint.

A fan of sparks. A burst of a flame.

Twisting flames tore through the dry brush and rose into the air. It was glorious. Thiazi squawked behind me and tried to stop. To turn back. But it was too late. The fire exploded out and up into the sky consuming us both in a blaze.

The fire grazed my feathers, doing nothing more than giving me a delightful tickle. Fire was of my element, after all.

Thiazi was not so fortunate.

His eagle scream pierced my ears. Flames seared his feathers and burnt his wings, wrapping him in fire. He crumpled and fell into the heart of the blaze. I exited the fire unscathed in the slightest.

The caws of the eagle turned into the screams of a man.

Then, there was only the roar of the fire.

But there was no time for self congratulations, even though I deserved it.

I endured on speeding towards Odin’s balcony. Reaching it, I dropped down and skidded across the marble and shifted back into my devilishly handsome self in one grand entrance.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I ran through the open archway and into Odin’s rooms of dark wood and shelves crammed with books.

I hope I’m not too late.

An invisible hand clamped down my stomach.

His gaunt face would haunt me forever after this.

His shirt laid open. The black webs of poison were barely an inch from his heart. I scrubbed my face with my hand.

“Where in the blazes did you come from?” Balder asked. “And why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

Whispers filled the heavy grief of the room. All questions, declarations, and judgements.

I ignored them all and went directly to Frigg who mixed dried herbs in a brass mortar on an oak table at the foot of Odin’s bed. I hated I needed her, but she was the only one who could reverse the spell I placed on Idunn.

She stopped pounding the plants and met my eyes. Her face twisted with annoyance.

“Where’s Idunn?” she snapped, wiping her hands on her apron. “You failed us, didn’t you? Typical. My husband will die now because of you.”

She always was a joy.

I pulled the hazelnut from my leather pouch and placed it on the floor between us. Her eyes widened at it.

“She’s here,” I said. “But I’m too exhausted to undo the spell myself.”

She sniffed hard and nodded stiffly.

“Stand back.”

Dipping her hand into her bag of runes at her hip, she pulled out Dagaz, transformation, and threw it at the hazelnut.

The hazelnut vibrated and shook and quaked.

In two heartbeats, Idunn transfigured back into herself. I let out a sigh of relief. The basket of golden apples was clutched firmly in her hand.

Confusion filled her face until her gaze found mine. Her features sharpened with the most exquisite rage I’d ever witnessed.

She bounded towards me.

“I’m not a violent woman, but for you I will make an exception…”

I put out my hands, stopping her.

“You can lash out at me all you want, but first, you must save Odin.”

I spun her around, forcing her to look at him.

She clapped her hand over her mouth, finally understanding the gravity of what I had previously tried to convey to her.

“My gods,” she whispered.

Tears streamed down Frigg’s face. I didn’t think her capable of such emotion. Perhaps her heart was not completely made of ice.

“Please, Idunn,” she said. “Only you can save him.”

She nodded and touched Frigg’s shoulder.

“Of course,” she said. “You must excuse my behavior. I was tricked by an idiot.”

That hurt, but it was deserved.

She took one of the golden apples from her basket. Its skin gleamed, reflecting shards of light from the windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

Odin’s chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths.

I wanted to go to him. To take his hand. To tell him I loved him.

That it would only ever be him.

I stepped into the shadows instead.

I pressed my back against a wall, far away, as I floundered trying not to sink in the fear of what it all meant. What it meant to be without him.

Cold swept up and over me. I tried to stay afloat.

He’s leaving us.

Everything got colder.

He’s leaving me.

Colder still…

Idunn sat on the bed beside him. She took out a small knife and cut into the apple. Juice ran down her fingers as she sliced a perfect wedge.

She lowered the fruit to his lips.

“I can’t,” he rasped.

“You must,” she said.

His eyes found mine. Hollow and far away. I wanted to break.

You must do as she says, I begged him. For us.

He closed his eyes.

I held my breath.

He took the smallest bite of apple. Sweetness filled the air, and with it, hope.

My heart thundered in my ears.

His breaths deepened.

Color returned to his face.

Idunn smiled.

“Take another bite,” she said.

He did. A bigger one.

Another rush of honey and spring filled my lungs.

The black infecting his veins retreated. Disappeared.

Odin grabbed the apple from Idunn and took three more bites. And three more. He feasted on the fruit as if a ravenous man having not eaten for a week.

Frigg rushed to his side.

“You’re saved,” Frigg cried. They all cried. Cheered.

He nodded.

Relief doused me. I swallowed hard, trying to rid myself of the small prickles of emotions running down my throat. I really was a worry wart sometimes. Getting all worked up over nothing.

I was not used to experiencing such emotions. It would take me at least a week to recover.

Frigg wiped her cheeks wet with tears and looked at Idunn.

“Thank you,” she said. “Because of you, my husband will survive Loki’s foolishness.”

Odin pushed himself up in bed. His eyes found mine again.

“It’s only because of Loki I am saved,” he said. “If he hadn’t risked his own life to retrieve Idunn, well…”

Frigg’s face turned red. I loved it. Truly. The whispers of the others grew in sharpness, and their features lengthened with annoyance.

I never could catch a break.

“Please,” I said. “I do what I can. No need for applause.”

Odin put out his hand to me, and I took it, kneeling beside him.

“I was rather looking forward to you kicking the bucket and finally enjoying some peace for once.”

He chuckled.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said.

I made to stand.

He drew me back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, so only I could hear.

Those pins scratched down my throat again.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” I replied, my voice rough. “I only saved your skin because I was bound to our oath. I had no choice really.”

He laughed softly.

“Of course,” he said. Knowing.

We both knew what the other could not say.

I brushed my thumb over his knuckles.

“I wonder what excitement tomorrow will bring?”

Excerpt from “Truth and Other Lies”

(Nine World Chronicles, Book 1)

Present Day

Basel, Switzerland

He stood naked on the altar, staring at the crucifix.

He claimed he came to destroy the world.

This wasn’t the first deranged man I encountered inside the Münster Cathedral, but he was the most tenacious in his ravings.

When I called the police, the woman on the phone sighed. A naked man inside a church did not constitute an emergency.

I strongly disagreed.

She sighed again, then said an officer would be here in twenty minutes, if one was available.

I cleared my throat, wanting to alert the man of my return.

He turned and met my gaze. Sharp eyes of green cut into my core, almost into my very being. I didn’t know if they wanted to love me, or end me.

I forced myself to speak.

“I found this suit in the rectory. It might be a little short for someone of your height, but it should do the job.”

He tilted his head, his eyes trailing to the pressed suit in my hands. A wave of energy from him struck me, kicking me in the chest like a mule.

Fierce, raw, alluring…

He descended the red, sandstone steps, each stride determined and powerful. Feline. I knew I should run, but I also, inexplicably, wanted to stay.

Flicking back his head, he ran his elegant fingers through shoulder length copper hair. His every muscle and movement tensed with careless danger, though his air remained at ease. He possessed a sublime and menacing beauty I’d only ever seen captured in the Lucifer of Liège.

I hoped he didn’t notice me tremble at that thought.

Taking the suit from me, he caressed the fabric beneath his thumbs. He smiled, a wry, devastating smile. For a heartbeat a torrential thrill lit my blood.

“You people never were fond of public nudity,” he said.

His voice. Soft, yet lethal. His every word resonated within the buttresses.

Who was this man?

He pushed his arms into the shirt and flicked each button into the little slits as if savoring each step, though he grumbled at the lack of gold embroidery.

I checked my watch.

Ten minutes more to wait. Damn. He would leave before the police arrived. For his own safety I couldn’t let that happen.

“I…I would be remiss if I didn’t ask why you intend to destroy the world?” I pushed out.

A frown tugged his lips, as if I had caused him great insult.

“No, not the world,” he said, shaking his head. “All worlds. All universes. I will shatter everything. Is this suit silk?” He shoved his legs into the pants and zipped the fly. “I’ve missed the sensation of fine clothes against my skin.”

I didn’t like the deadly flash in his eyes, the irreverent laughter behind his pupils.

I rubbed the back of my neck, my fingers gliding over cold sweat.

“Isn’t wanting such destruction extreme?”

“I only know extreme.”

He smiled that smile again.

Where the hell were the police?

Smoothing out the creases of his suit, he glanced over his shoulder at the side vestibule. Anger hardened his lips, erasing any hint of their seemingly constant amusement.

He flickered. Flickered?

Two overlaying images raced between each other. They flipped back and forth, over and over until the one beneath flashed to the surface, fierce and vivid.

Pinpoint punctures surrounded his mouth. A map of scars stretched across his face. Twisting in thick red lines, the marred tissue traveled down his neck, disappearing beneath his white oxford shirt.

My breath stopped. A sickening chill gripped my stomach. This couldn’t be real?

I blinked, hard.

His beauty returned, unobscured by the horror. Unobscured by anything. He was, once again, perfect.

The low lighting, alongside my nerves, played with me. That was the explanation.

It had to be.

“Where are they?” he growled.

He walked to the plain cross standing beside an open Bible. A single, white candle sat to its right. He curled his hands into fists, the skin pulling white over his knuckles.

“Where are what?”

“The beeswax candles. The trays of sand.”

His rage crashed against my chest in violent waves. Why should he be this upset over a Catholic superstition?

“There haven’t been prayer candles in the Münster for five hundred years. Not since the Reformation. You must be confused with another church,” I said.

His shoulders dropped. His skin paled. For the first time, he appeared fragile. Fatigued.

“Five hundred years?” he whispered. Pain lanced each word.

He neared the candle, his footing no longer anchored. He stared at the wick, his gaze lost somewhere, someplace.

“I’m sure there is someone out there looking for you. Is there a phone number I can call?” I wanted to divert him. It all started to unnerve me more greatly.

“Five hundred years?” he yelled. No, screamed. “I’ve been imprisoned in that hell for five centuries?”

The arches shook, and the ground quaked. My heart pounded in my throat, and a fresh crack of terror split through me.

He sunk to the floor. Broken. Defeated. He buried his face in his hands and flickered a second time.

Webs of deep scars laced between his fingers and over his hands.

I blinked again.

And again, he returned to his nearly divine form.

Twenty minutes had now passed. Still no police.

Pity overtook my fear, and I reached out to touch his shoulder. He might as well been marble. For a second, I believed he was the Lucifer of Liège come to life.

“What’s your name?”

Searing heat burned through his clothes and scorched into my palm. I yanked my hand back.

I stepped away.

The candle wick ignited on its own. He rose to his feet, lengthening and seeming much taller than I first recalled. The flame blazed hotter, brighter, throwing him in shades of gold. Even the red of his hair burned.

But his eyes…

Fire, an absolute inferno, exploded within them.

This was no man.

And the police weren’t coming.

My pulse thundered in my ears and terror, cold, bitter terror, consumed me. I took another step back.

He took one towards me. And another.

I made to run, but I stumbled and fell into the timeworn, oak pew.

In a second, he was on me as if I was his prey. He leaned over my trembling body, the heat rolling off his skin broiling my cheeks.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with, mortal man,” he said. “I am Loki. Loki of the Aesir. Loki of the Jotun. The god of mischief. The god of lies. The trickster. The evil-doer. The sly one. The father of wolves. The breaker of worlds. I am chaos.”

Dread pounded in every beat of my heart. My every vein went ice.

“But, that’s…all a myth,” I stammered.

He chuckled, as if I told him a hilarious joke. His eyes returned to their normal green, and his skin cooled.

“I am no myth.”

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked.

His lips pulled into a charming smile. It sickened me how much it made me want to like him, despite my fear.

“Yes, but at another time. Please don’t take it personally. I will kill you as I will kill every living creature. It’s quite fair, I assure you.”

He held out his hand, offering to help me back to my feet.

“But why?”

I pushed myself out of the pew, refusing his help. He shrugged and let his hand fall back to his side.

“For the same reason your God destroyed His own creation with a flood. Judgement.”

I shook my head and swallowed down my panic despite all reason and good sense. I would not shrink. I would not waver. I couldn’t. Not when everything was on the line.

“This isn’t judgement. This is extermination. Whatever grievances were committed against you, you must forgive.”

The laughter in the lines of his face faded, a bleak emptiness taking root instead.

“You don’t know what they did,” he said. Almost whispered. “After what they’ve done, they deserve no forgiveness.”

He stared once more at the candle beside the open Bible. At somewhere in the past.

The intensity of his gaze sent cold sweat trickling down my back.

“What have they done?”

Chapter Two — A Wedding to Die For

Five Hundred Years Earlier

Asgardian Year — Two Thousand and Eight, Sixth Age

Midgardian Year — 1526

Jotunheim

(Somewhere in the middle of nowhere)

“I will never forgive you for this, Loki Laufeyjarson,” Thor told me.

A set of grinding teeth gleamed through his thick beard.

I forced his head to the left and stuck an orange blossom in his wild hair. It complimented his fiery red mane quite nicely, as well as his blue eyes that grew with hatred for me by the second.

“Do you want Mjolnir back or not?” I said, powdering his nose, struggling to lighten his ruddy complexion.

Tyr pushed back his blonde hair from his angular face, trying to stifle a snicker. He crossed his brawny arms over his firm chest and leaned against a boulder, enjoying our spectacle way too much.

I should have known better than to bring him along. The god of nobility and justice. Nice guy, but a banner killjoy. But no one wielded a broadsword so expertly as Tyr. I didn’t anticipate bloodshed, but this was a prickly situation.

Thrym, the warlord of Thrymheim, stole Mjolnir, Thor’s beloved hammer and the very safety of the Nine Realms.

The brothers Brokkr and Sindri forged the hammer in the hearths of Svartalfheim. Made of Dwarven steel, it never missed its mark and always returned to the hand of its owner after being thrown. It could also crush giant skulls quite adeptly.

Odin did not find the loss of such a weapon particularly pleasing, and so, once again, it was up to me to save the day.

Now I was stuck in Jotunheim, where there were only pine forests and thicker pine forests, and a lovely biting cold that raced down from the Northern mountain ranges making the climate simultaneously freezing and humid.

Digging my fingers into the blue silk of Thor’s gown, I adjusted his bodice until it hugged his massive chest smoothly. No creases, no puckers. Still, something remained off.

Perhaps it was the muscles.

And the beard.

Jotuns liked a woman with some meat on her bones, but this was a touch ridiculous. All the orange blossoms in the world couldn’t mask the truth. But, Thrym demanded a bride in exchange for the hammer, and a bride I would give him.

“Are you sure you won’t let me cast an illusion to give you a more, uh, feminine form?” I asked. “He’s expecting the goddess of beauty and fertility. I don’t mean to be rude, but you make an ugly Freya.”

Thunder cracked overhead, and his eyes lit white with lightning. I took that to mean a no.

“You leave all my bits and pieces as they are,” he spat. “I don’t trust your magic, lie-smith.”

I sighed. They never forgot.

“I turned you into a salamander one time.” I tried not to smile at the memory. “If you had protected Mjolnir better, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. This is all on you.”

He cursed beneath his breath as I stuffed his fierce beard behind a thick veil. It kept springing back out of the fabric.

“I will break every bone in your body if you tug my beard again…”

“Now that is language very unbecoming a goddess.”

I ducked just in time to miss his fist slamming into my nose.

Stepping back I admired my good work, though “good” was a stretch. Thor’s broad shoulders forced the seams of his gown to their breaking point, while his waist reminded me of a tree trunk wrapped in a tent. But, the true travesty was how stupid the delicate silk appeared against his burly hands.

I scrounged through the pine duff for wild flowers until I collected a modest bouquet of blue monkshood and rampions. I pressed them in his grip, arranging the blossoms to better hide his chunky knuckles and the tufts of hair on his wrists.

It would have to do.

Besides, it was my turn now.

Casting an illusion over myself, my waist thinned, and my eyes widened along with my hips. My lashes lengthened, and my legs curved. I arched my back and stretched my arms as I grew an exquisite pair of breasts. At least one of us would be a true beauty, and it might as well be me.

Tyr couldn’t hold it together anymore. His broad chest heaved and a crack of laughter escaped his lungs, causing the pine trees to shake around us. Pine cones dropped like hail at our feet.

“By Odin’s ravens, you both look ridiculous!” he exclaimed.

He wiped tears from his small eyes. Thor’s lips stiffened and stretched tight across his teeth.

“Shut up!” Thor growled.

He stomped towards Tyr, the hem of his gown almost getting trampled beneath his heavy boots. He was most definitely not graceful in a dress.

I pulled him back. Tyr only cackled harder.

“It’s not worth breaking your laces, Thor,” I said. “We’re only an hour’s trek from Thrymheim, and you want to look like the goddess he anticipates.”

“Yes, don’t break your laces, Thor,” Tyr mocked.

Thor glared at him, and his right eye twitched.

“I’ve never been more humiliated in all my millennia,” Thor said. “Everyone will think me a fool.”

I dragged my hand down my face. Did they not already think that?

“There are worse things to be thought as,” I said. “One of them being a coward because you aren’t willing to do what it takes to get your property back.”

His nostrils flared.

“But…”

“This should be a fairly simple deception, if you don’t lose your head,” I interrupted. “I will be by your side the entire time as your maid servant. There’s nothing else worth fretting about.”

Thor’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Tyr shoved off his rock and circled Thor. He gave a hard sniff in approval.

“This plan of yours better work, Loki.” He scratched his trimmed beard with the tip of his iron hook he used in place of his missing left hand.

If only he knew the truth. There was far more riding on this mission than just getting Mjolnir back.

“It will.” I smoothed my own gown of deep purple. “A sacred object such a Mjolnir is necessary to bless Thrym’s marriage to a Vanir goddess. He is a Jotun man, and she is unattainable to him in any other circumstance. Don’t you think he will bring Mjolnir out of hiding to make this union valid?”

“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Tyr said. “I don’t like when you negotiate with Jotunheim on your own. If I catch one whiff of trickery…”

His gaze narrowed, and his knuckles pulsed as he gripped his sword hilt. The message was clear.

As I said. Killjoy.

Crossing my arms I sighed, unimpressed.

“My skin is in this game just as much as yours.”

“I know, but I still don’t see why you had to go by yourself,” he said.

I rolled my eyes.

“Because I’m the only one that hasn’t completely burnt my bridges with Jotunheim. You need to learn to trust me.”

His grimace turned into a smile. A laugh belted out from deep within his gut.

“Trust you, lie-smith? Now that is a capital joke!”

Pain spread across my jaw from clenching my teeth together. I hoped he didn’t notice. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having gotten beneath my skin.

I turned my attention away from Tyr and back to Thor. He nibbled the rough edge of his thumbnail. He almost spawned pity in me for him.

Almost.

“I’m sorry I called you an ugly Freya, Thor. Blue really is your color, and you look positively radiant!”

He looked positively absurd. Luckily for us, Thrym had a broad taste in women.

“Let’s get this over with,” Thor said. “And when we return to Asgard, not a word to anyone.”

“Cross my heart,” I lied.

“Loki: Truth and Other Lies” is available for pre-order on Amazon!

Thank You!

I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, I would greatly appreciate a short review on Amazon or your favorite book website, such as Goodreads! Reviews are crucial for any author, and even just a line or two can make a huge difference.

Acknowledgements

First, I’d like to thank my coffee maker for supplying me with the liquid energy I needed to complete this story.

Oreos also deserve a shout out. Actually, all sugar in general.

I suppose I should also thank my husband for putting up with me when I’m lost in my revision cave of despair…And to my parents who put up with me writing books that could never be made into Hallmark movies…And to my friends who put up with me asking questions about grammar as if my life depended on it. I mean, it does, but still. Anyway, I digress.

Finally, I must thank you, the reader, for making this author’s job, and all the accompanying torment of being a writer, worth it.

About the Author

Lyra Wolf is an author caught between worlds. Ours, and those of the characters that won’t stop pestering her.

A lover of travel, Lyra has lived all over, from the cornfields of the Midwest, to the rugged mountains of Switzerland. Now, she calls the swamps of Central Florida, where “The Mouse” rules as supreme overlord, her home.

When Lyra isn’t at a theme park, listening to classic rock, or otherwise procrastinating, she writes about fantastical places and the complicated people who live there.

Lyra has earned a B.A. in History and M.A. in English.

You can connect with Lyra on her website, or by simply clicking the social media links below!

lyrawolf.com

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