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Chapter 24
October 9, 2013, Iceland
There had always been an old hermit living in the hills beyond Kjalvegur. The locals never really thought about the fact that he'd been there when their grandparents were young. He was a huge man with a craggy face. Long auburn hair and a bushy beard framed ice-blue eyes and a large, once-broken nose. He would come down to the nearest farmsteads once every couple years to trade game or mutton or occasionally gold for iron or ale or wood, and then vanish again into the hills near the glacier. About as often an adventurous young lad would try his luck at finding the hermit's gold mine. Usually they would return empty-handed. Once in a while they would return with tales of guesting for the night with the hermit, who would tell them sagas of the Vikings with all the skills of the skalds of old, and of hearing howling in the night outside the walls of the hermit's farm. And occasionally one would not return at all – but the ice and the wilderness of Iceland have never been the safest of places.
The New Year of the White God's calendar meant little to the hermit. He preferred to live by the old ways as much as he could, and the old religion did not celebrate the returning year until the sun stayed above the horizon for more than a few minutes at a time. His powers returned slowly when the world changed, and it was autumn when the raven arrived at his farmstead. He'd been keeping an eye on the sheep, and scowled at the bird suspiciously as it fluttered in to land on the fence rail beside him. “Morrigan. What do -you- want?”
The raven shimmered, leaving an apparently young red-haired woman perched on the top rail where it had been. “The world changes, Thor. It will soon be time for honorable battle once more. I would have my old enemies back, but first we must be sure that the White God's followers in Vinland do not ruin things.”
The hermit twitched his eyebrows up. “Ruin things? How would they do that?”
The woman sneered. “They have become soft and fat, striking at their enemies from afar rather than facing them properly like warriors should. They are even proud of this. They let their metal monsters fight for them.”
The old hermit scowled. “So much magic already, Morrigan? If they have gotten so strong in the first months of the Change, how can we hope to stop them?”
She stared at him and then shook her head. “Have ye no been paying attention to the world at all, Thunderer? They use no magic. They use machines, and more skillfully than e'er Merlin or the Priest-Kings of Atlantis used spellcraft. But they are wedded to their devices, and now try to convert what they know into spells that will do the same as their technologies. T'would be the Lemurians all over again, but from the beginning of the Change.”
“Truly?” Thor stared at his visitor. “You were nearly as bad as Loki for twisting the truth around until it would not recognize itself, if you got a battle out of it in the end. How do I know this is not another of your schemes?”
She sighed. “Thor, when was the last time you left this farm of yours?”
He frowned, considering the question. “Two years ago, I think. High summer.”
“And how far did you go?”
He pointed. “Between those hills, and five leagues more along the river. There is a farmstead there, whose people still adhere mostly to the old ways. It is good to see the Hammer given a place over the fire even after all this time.”
Morrigan nodded. “And the last time you went down to Reykjavik? Or even the Althing?”
“Not since they accepted the White God, Morrigan, and abandoned the Greenland. It has been some time.”
“Some time? If it's been that long, it's been eight hundred years, Thor! T'is long past time. Come with me, and see what they do without magecraft, and consider what they might do -with- it if they are allowed to proceed with their plans.”
Thor was troubled as they rode toward the city in the back of a pickup truck whose driver had stopped to offer them a ride. “The roads, this wagon – none of this is magic?”
“Naught but machines, Thor. They have harnessed your lightning and broken it to their will. The Vinlanders have killed two of the Old Ones already, before their powers had returned strongly enough to resist, simply to prevent them from challenging their supremacy in the years ahead.”
“Already? Who?”
“The Kraken and the Feathered Snake. Coyote has thrown in with them.”
“And the Horned One? He had no love for either of those. He could have arranged for the Vinlanders to do this through Coyote and kept his hands clean.” He frowned at his riding companion. “Ever has it been dangerous to oppose him. Wotan tried, and look where it got him.”
Morrigan sniffed. “Wotan was always headstrong. Clever, yes, but not deep enough. He never thought far enough ahead, and that is something you cannot risk against the Eldest. But he has not been seen since the Change started. You know how he is. He sits back and watches things unfold. If we strike early, he will accept the wyrd as he always does, and wait until the next time. And that is assuming he had aught to do with this. There is no proof.”
An airliner passed overhead as they approached Reykjavik, the turbines howling as it climbed into the sky bound for London. Thor watched it in horrified fascination. “More machines? I never saw one close by before.”
“Aye. And some of them carry weapons that can kill from leagues away, or even obliterate entire cities with one strike.”
Thor glared at her. “I am no foolish child to believe such wild tales, Morrigan. Do not make sport with me.”
Morrigan glared back. “I would not make up such a tale, Thunderer. How else could they have destroyed the Snake in his own lair? I speak sooth, and swear so by my own heart's blood. When we come to Reykjavik, I will show you the records they have of such things. You have been too long out of touch with the world.”
Thor stared out at the landscape hurtling by as the truck headed for the city. "If they seek to preserve such evil knowledge across the Change... You are right, Raven. this cannot be allowed. Loki is still in the world somewhere. This is just the sort of foulness that he would try to take advantage of. We will do what we must to stop this." He lifted a shaggy eyebrow in her direction. “Providing that you speak sooth.”
The raven glided over the rock-strewn waste of the Burren, angling toward the tiny entrance to a cave unknown to any mortal humans. Once she’d landed and made her way inside, she stretched her wings and made her way deeper to where a miniature dragon and an oversized wolf waited in a much larger chamber.
The dragon raised his head as she entered the cavern. “And how went your mission, Morrigan?”
The raven clicked her beak in amusement. “He fears what he does not understand, and he understands nothing of the world that is not a thousand years out of date. The world wars frightened him beyond all reason. Though by the end, I suspect he would have believed it had I shown him Star Wars.”
The little dragon chuckled, and blew a smoke ring from his nose. “He understood little of the world-that-was, for that matter. He has power, power in plenty – but no real comprehension of how it works or how best to utilize it. He'll make an apt weapon for us. Aim him and set off his sense of honor, and he's a bull in a china shop. And you gain the ear of the Americans.”
The wolf nodded his head to the drake. His speech was not human, but more a thing of gestures and stances. <And you think they will help my people?>
“They will if anyone will, Alpha. They acknowledged, even before the Convergence, that humans share this world rather than own it.” The dragon shimmered into the shape of a red-headed man. “As for me? I've had my revenge on Wotan. But Thor still has not paid for what they did to Nalfi.” He nodded to the raven. “Our thanks for your assistance, Morrigan.”
The raven shimmered as well, and the red-haired woman leaned against the man's shoulder. “T'was my pleasure, Loki. This will be interesting days, indeed.”
“Director? I have just gotten a request for, quote, ‘an audience with thy mistress.’ I’ve put him on hold for the moment.”
Lowe twitched her ears. “Seriously? Who talks like that?”
“He says that he is Loki of the Aesir. Are you interested?”
“He got the direct number for my office, somehow. Might be the real thing, Ev. Go ahead, put him through.” She switched her phone to speaker and started the recording function. “Good afternoon.”
The voice on the other end had a hint of a Scandinavian accent, but the archaic phrasing sounded stilted, more an act than a reality. “A good afternoon in truth, milady Director. Yet I fear I bring tidings of dire import for thy realm.”
Lowe chuckled. “And you have to talk like a bad movie dialogue to tell me about it? None of the Immortals with whom I have spoken so far have failed to keep up with the times, Loki - if that truly is who you are. While I might believe that -some- of the Aesir would be that slow, -his- reputation is just a bit better than that.”
The pause went on long enough for the wolf to wonder if she’d offended him – or scared off an imposter - before ending in a burst of laughter. “Fair enough, Diviner. But you have to admit, it did cut through the layers of underlings.”
It was Lowe’s turn to pause before responding. “And again with that title. Do -all- of you elders know it?”
“What you are is an open book to those with the wit to read it, milady. You need to learn to shield yourself better.”
The wolf nodded to herself. “And you can help me with that, I suppose?”
“I -could-, though with my reputation you would perhaps be better off letting someone else assist. I am well aware of how legend paints me. But I can be at your office within a half hour if you are interested in what I have to tell you.”
“I am -always- interested in meeting with Immortals, Loki. Would an hour be good? I have a few things to deal with first.”
“That is fine. We shall be there at two, milady Director.”
The intercom buzzed at five minutes to two. “Director?”
“What is it, Ev?”
“Your appointment is here. There’s a bit of a complication. You said there might be a guest with him?”
"He did use the plural. I take it that he has one?"
“The guest appears to be a dire wolf. Four-footed, not a Changeling. Security’s not happy.”
Lowe flicked her ears at that. “Interesting. Tell security to pass them, but move the meeting to Conference A. Set it up like I said, but add a few raw steaks to the refreshment table. And tell John he should bring someone along for backup.”
Conference A was one of the larger meeting rooms that the Director of NSA had available. Lowe arrived just as the staff was finishing setting up the refreshment table. She nodded to them as they scurried out, and Whitford and a human agent took up their positions behind her chair. A minute later, the other door opened and she stepped forward to greet her visitors.
Loki was a tall red-haired human with a wiry build and a mischievous grin. The black-furred wolf accompanying him was huge, standing well over a meter high at the shoulder, and intelligence gleamed in his golden eyes. Lowe nodded to them as they entered. “Welcome to the United States, gentlemen.” She looked at the wolf appraisingly. “This would be the one reputed to be your offspring? Fenris, or Fenrir, depending on who tells the story?”
Loki chuckled. “So they told it, but the truth is, I’m actually -his- descendant.”
The wolf glanced at her, then sniffed the air. <As are you, cub. You and your mate share my blood as surely as he does.> He tilted his head and looked at his companion. <You did not mention that she was one of us. Perhaps they -can- be pack.>
Lowe stared at him in surprise. He hadn’t spoken, not in any human language - but she had understood his meaning. “One of you?”
The wolf trotted over to the refreshment table, grabbed one of the raw beefsteaks, and then sprawled across an entire sofa, glancing back at Loki expectantly. The implication of <You tell them> was clear even to the human standing with Whitford. Loki chuckled and settled into a chair of his own. “Humans are not the only ones affected by the cycle of magic, you must realize. My ancestor here is the Eldest of his kind, as surely as Cerrunos is the Eldest of the humans. Long ago, they formalized an alliance - one which had informally existed for many years already by then - to safeguard both our kinds. And in the course of things, with the assistance of what some would call magic and others might call genetic engineering, a few of their descendants had half-breed children.”
“You are telling me...”
“That you, your guardian there, Coyote, myself... we are not pure human in our lineage. I assume you have read the tales, since you know the Alpha by the names of the Norse, so you are aware that I am a shapeshifter. My true form...” He melted, features flowing like soft wax for a moment before settling into another shape - a red-furred anthropomorphic wolf. “...is this.”
“Interesting.” Lowe twitched her ears forward. “So the other mixed forms have a similar origin...?”
Loki nodded. “In many cases, yes. When the success of our alliance became obvious, some of the others attempted the same thing, if only to be sure to leave descendants with the winning side. In other cases, it was merely shape-shifting. The Eldest is obviously not part unicorn - he was the first there ever was, and he did not take that shape until he -was- the Eldest. It’s his signature.”
“Very well. And my next question is... why are you here? Surely not just to pass on this bit of information?”
Loki shook his head. “No, nothing so simple. I came to give you a warning. Thor has become aware of you Americans, and he seems not to approve of your Project Mirror plans. He has always been a warrior rather than a thinker, and while I doubt that he really wants to sacrifice half the population of the world, he’s got it into his head that he doesn’t like your machines and he likes the idea that you’re hoping to put together spellwork that can duplicate their abilities even less.”
Lowe frowned, her ears flattening out. “And what is he capable of doing to stop us?”
Loki shrugs. “If he can figure out where you are doing your research, he can do quite a bit. He was always the most powerful of the Aesir. He commands the weather, he is physically formidable, his armor is proof against all but the strongest magics or physical damage... if he takes it into his head to attack your research sites, he could cause quite a lot of damage.”
Whitford chuckled from behind her. “And he’s even got a public relations benefit at the moment. Remember the movies? They portray him as a hero. And Loki here as a villain.”
Both Loki and the Alpha growled at that. “He is no hero. He lives to do battle, and he doesn’t much care who he fights, or who gets hurt in the process. He’s got an honor code, of sorts, but he considers machinery and high magecraft to be cheating, and he possesses no tolerance for those who use either.”
Lowe sighed. “Wonderful. Another Immortal who doesn’t want to be challenged. But if he doesn’t like magical or technical assistance, how is he planning to get here? And where is he, for that matter?”
“Iceland. He’ll probably come by longboat.” Loki grinned. “I can’t imagine him buying an airline ticket.”
“He can’t fly on his own, then? Or teleport, for that matter?”
“No. Mjolnir is real enough, and a very dangerous weapon, but he can’t use it to fly.”
Lowe nodded, then leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and her muzzle on her folded hands. “And what aren’t you telling us?”
Loki nodded. “Very good. May I ask what gave me away?”
Lowe grinned. “You may ask, but I’m not telling.”
Loki chuckled. “Can’t blame me for trying. To rephrase your question, what do I get out of this?”
“That will do for now.”
“I want him taken down. You Americans have dealt with two of the Demon Immortals already, and I want him punished for what he did to my Nalfi.”
Lowe sat back again. “You wouldn’t happen to have ... arranged for him to take a dislike to us for that purpose?”
“I... may have asked a friend to bring you to his attention.”
The Alpha snorted from his perch on the sofa. <We had Morrigan talk to him about it. He considers the Stormcrow to be a peer.>
Lowe looked at the pair of them, her ears down. “So you deliberately stirred him up.”
Loki shrugged. “Morrigan stirred him up about it while it is still early in the cycle. We are hoping he’ll try something before his powers are fully restored. But rest assured, Diviner, he would have discovered what you are doing sooner or later, or merely decided that he needed to test himself against your champions. All we have done is make this attack come earlier than it might have otherwise.”
Lowe sighed. “This is not my decision to make, and the President is not going to be happy about having another Immortal oppose us, particularly one considered a hero by the popular culture. Is there a way I can reach you?”
Loki grinned. “Light a fire, and speak my name. I will hear.” He stood and bowed. “And for now, we will take our leave.”
October 9, 2013, Iceland
There had always been an old hermit living in the hills beyond Kjalvegur. The locals never really thought about the fact that he'd been there when their grandparents were young. He was a huge man with a craggy face. Long auburn hair and a bushy beard framed ice-blue eyes and a large, once-broken nose. He would come down to the nearest farmsteads once every couple years to trade game or mutton or occasionally gold for iron or ale or wood, and then vanish again into the hills near the glacier. About as often an adventurous young lad would try his luck at finding the hermit's gold mine. Usually they would return empty-handed. Once in a while they would return with tales of guesting for the night with the hermit, who would tell them sagas of the Vikings with all the skills of the skalds of old, and of hearing howling in the night outside the walls of the hermit's farm. And occasionally one would not return at all – but the ice and the wilderness of Iceland have never been the safest of places.
The New Year of the White God's calendar meant little to the hermit. He preferred to live by the old ways as much as he could, and the old religion did not celebrate the returning year until the sun stayed above the horizon for more than a few minutes at a time. His powers returned slowly when the world changed, and it was autumn when the raven arrived at his farmstead. He'd been keeping an eye on the sheep, and scowled at the bird suspiciously as it fluttered in to land on the fence rail beside him. “Morrigan. What do -you- want?”
The raven shimmered, leaving an apparently young red-haired woman perched on the top rail where it had been. “The world changes, Thor. It will soon be time for honorable battle once more. I would have my old enemies back, but first we must be sure that the White God's followers in Vinland do not ruin things.”
The hermit twitched his eyebrows up. “Ruin things? How would they do that?”
The woman sneered. “They have become soft and fat, striking at their enemies from afar rather than facing them properly like warriors should. They are even proud of this. They let their metal monsters fight for them.”
The old hermit scowled. “So much magic already, Morrigan? If they have gotten so strong in the first months of the Change, how can we hope to stop them?”
She stared at him and then shook her head. “Have ye no been paying attention to the world at all, Thunderer? They use no magic. They use machines, and more skillfully than e'er Merlin or the Priest-Kings of Atlantis used spellcraft. But they are wedded to their devices, and now try to convert what they know into spells that will do the same as their technologies. T'would be the Lemurians all over again, but from the beginning of the Change.”
“Truly?” Thor stared at his visitor. “You were nearly as bad as Loki for twisting the truth around until it would not recognize itself, if you got a battle out of it in the end. How do I know this is not another of your schemes?”
She sighed. “Thor, when was the last time you left this farm of yours?”
He frowned, considering the question. “Two years ago, I think. High summer.”
“And how far did you go?”
He pointed. “Between those hills, and five leagues more along the river. There is a farmstead there, whose people still adhere mostly to the old ways. It is good to see the Hammer given a place over the fire even after all this time.”
Morrigan nodded. “And the last time you went down to Reykjavik? Or even the Althing?”
“Not since they accepted the White God, Morrigan, and abandoned the Greenland. It has been some time.”
“Some time? If it's been that long, it's been eight hundred years, Thor! T'is long past time. Come with me, and see what they do without magecraft, and consider what they might do -with- it if they are allowed to proceed with their plans.”
Thor was troubled as they rode toward the city in the back of a pickup truck whose driver had stopped to offer them a ride. “The roads, this wagon – none of this is magic?”
“Naught but machines, Thor. They have harnessed your lightning and broken it to their will. The Vinlanders have killed two of the Old Ones already, before their powers had returned strongly enough to resist, simply to prevent them from challenging their supremacy in the years ahead.”
“Already? Who?”
“The Kraken and the Feathered Snake. Coyote has thrown in with them.”
“And the Horned One? He had no love for either of those. He could have arranged for the Vinlanders to do this through Coyote and kept his hands clean.” He frowned at his riding companion. “Ever has it been dangerous to oppose him. Wotan tried, and look where it got him.”
Morrigan sniffed. “Wotan was always headstrong. Clever, yes, but not deep enough. He never thought far enough ahead, and that is something you cannot risk against the Eldest. But he has not been seen since the Change started. You know how he is. He sits back and watches things unfold. If we strike early, he will accept the wyrd as he always does, and wait until the next time. And that is assuming he had aught to do with this. There is no proof.”
An airliner passed overhead as they approached Reykjavik, the turbines howling as it climbed into the sky bound for London. Thor watched it in horrified fascination. “More machines? I never saw one close by before.”
“Aye. And some of them carry weapons that can kill from leagues away, or even obliterate entire cities with one strike.”
Thor glared at her. “I am no foolish child to believe such wild tales, Morrigan. Do not make sport with me.”
Morrigan glared back. “I would not make up such a tale, Thunderer. How else could they have destroyed the Snake in his own lair? I speak sooth, and swear so by my own heart's blood. When we come to Reykjavik, I will show you the records they have of such things. You have been too long out of touch with the world.”
Thor stared out at the landscape hurtling by as the truck headed for the city. "If they seek to preserve such evil knowledge across the Change... You are right, Raven. this cannot be allowed. Loki is still in the world somewhere. This is just the sort of foulness that he would try to take advantage of. We will do what we must to stop this." He lifted a shaggy eyebrow in her direction. “Providing that you speak sooth.”
The raven glided over the rock-strewn waste of the Burren, angling toward the tiny entrance to a cave unknown to any mortal humans. Once she’d landed and made her way inside, she stretched her wings and made her way deeper to where a miniature dragon and an oversized wolf waited in a much larger chamber.
The dragon raised his head as she entered the cavern. “And how went your mission, Morrigan?”
The raven clicked her beak in amusement. “He fears what he does not understand, and he understands nothing of the world that is not a thousand years out of date. The world wars frightened him beyond all reason. Though by the end, I suspect he would have believed it had I shown him Star Wars.”
The little dragon chuckled, and blew a smoke ring from his nose. “He understood little of the world-that-was, for that matter. He has power, power in plenty – but no real comprehension of how it works or how best to utilize it. He'll make an apt weapon for us. Aim him and set off his sense of honor, and he's a bull in a china shop. And you gain the ear of the Americans.”
The wolf nodded his head to the drake. His speech was not human, but more a thing of gestures and stances. <And you think they will help my people?>
“They will if anyone will, Alpha. They acknowledged, even before the Convergence, that humans share this world rather than own it.” The dragon shimmered into the shape of a red-headed man. “As for me? I've had my revenge on Wotan. But Thor still has not paid for what they did to Nalfi.” He nodded to the raven. “Our thanks for your assistance, Morrigan.”
The raven shimmered as well, and the red-haired woman leaned against the man's shoulder. “T'was my pleasure, Loki. This will be interesting days, indeed.”
“Director? I have just gotten a request for, quote, ‘an audience with thy mistress.’ I’ve put him on hold for the moment.”
Lowe twitched her ears. “Seriously? Who talks like that?”
“He says that he is Loki of the Aesir. Are you interested?”
“He got the direct number for my office, somehow. Might be the real thing, Ev. Go ahead, put him through.” She switched her phone to speaker and started the recording function. “Good afternoon.”
The voice on the other end had a hint of a Scandinavian accent, but the archaic phrasing sounded stilted, more an act than a reality. “A good afternoon in truth, milady Director. Yet I fear I bring tidings of dire import for thy realm.”
Lowe chuckled. “And you have to talk like a bad movie dialogue to tell me about it? None of the Immortals with whom I have spoken so far have failed to keep up with the times, Loki - if that truly is who you are. While I might believe that -some- of the Aesir would be that slow, -his- reputation is just a bit better than that.”
The pause went on long enough for the wolf to wonder if she’d offended him – or scared off an imposter - before ending in a burst of laughter. “Fair enough, Diviner. But you have to admit, it did cut through the layers of underlings.”
It was Lowe’s turn to pause before responding. “And again with that title. Do -all- of you elders know it?”
“What you are is an open book to those with the wit to read it, milady. You need to learn to shield yourself better.”
The wolf nodded to herself. “And you can help me with that, I suppose?”
“I -could-, though with my reputation you would perhaps be better off letting someone else assist. I am well aware of how legend paints me. But I can be at your office within a half hour if you are interested in what I have to tell you.”
“I am -always- interested in meeting with Immortals, Loki. Would an hour be good? I have a few things to deal with first.”
“That is fine. We shall be there at two, milady Director.”
The intercom buzzed at five minutes to two. “Director?”
“What is it, Ev?”
“Your appointment is here. There’s a bit of a complication. You said there might be a guest with him?”
"He did use the plural. I take it that he has one?"
“The guest appears to be a dire wolf. Four-footed, not a Changeling. Security’s not happy.”
Lowe flicked her ears at that. “Interesting. Tell security to pass them, but move the meeting to Conference A. Set it up like I said, but add a few raw steaks to the refreshment table. And tell John he should bring someone along for backup.”
Conference A was one of the larger meeting rooms that the Director of NSA had available. Lowe arrived just as the staff was finishing setting up the refreshment table. She nodded to them as they scurried out, and Whitford and a human agent took up their positions behind her chair. A minute later, the other door opened and she stepped forward to greet her visitors.
Loki was a tall red-haired human with a wiry build and a mischievous grin. The black-furred wolf accompanying him was huge, standing well over a meter high at the shoulder, and intelligence gleamed in his golden eyes. Lowe nodded to them as they entered. “Welcome to the United States, gentlemen.” She looked at the wolf appraisingly. “This would be the one reputed to be your offspring? Fenris, or Fenrir, depending on who tells the story?”
Loki chuckled. “So they told it, but the truth is, I’m actually -his- descendant.”
The wolf glanced at her, then sniffed the air. <As are you, cub. You and your mate share my blood as surely as he does.> He tilted his head and looked at his companion. <You did not mention that she was one of us. Perhaps they -can- be pack.>
Lowe stared at him in surprise. He hadn’t spoken, not in any human language - but she had understood his meaning. “One of you?”
The wolf trotted over to the refreshment table, grabbed one of the raw beefsteaks, and then sprawled across an entire sofa, glancing back at Loki expectantly. The implication of <You tell them> was clear even to the human standing with Whitford. Loki chuckled and settled into a chair of his own. “Humans are not the only ones affected by the cycle of magic, you must realize. My ancestor here is the Eldest of his kind, as surely as Cerrunos is the Eldest of the humans. Long ago, they formalized an alliance - one which had informally existed for many years already by then - to safeguard both our kinds. And in the course of things, with the assistance of what some would call magic and others might call genetic engineering, a few of their descendants had half-breed children.”
“You are telling me...”
“That you, your guardian there, Coyote, myself... we are not pure human in our lineage. I assume you have read the tales, since you know the Alpha by the names of the Norse, so you are aware that I am a shapeshifter. My true form...” He melted, features flowing like soft wax for a moment before settling into another shape - a red-furred anthropomorphic wolf. “...is this.”
“Interesting.” Lowe twitched her ears forward. “So the other mixed forms have a similar origin...?”
Loki nodded. “In many cases, yes. When the success of our alliance became obvious, some of the others attempted the same thing, if only to be sure to leave descendants with the winning side. In other cases, it was merely shape-shifting. The Eldest is obviously not part unicorn - he was the first there ever was, and he did not take that shape until he -was- the Eldest. It’s his signature.”
“Very well. And my next question is... why are you here? Surely not just to pass on this bit of information?”
Loki shook his head. “No, nothing so simple. I came to give you a warning. Thor has become aware of you Americans, and he seems not to approve of your Project Mirror plans. He has always been a warrior rather than a thinker, and while I doubt that he really wants to sacrifice half the population of the world, he’s got it into his head that he doesn’t like your machines and he likes the idea that you’re hoping to put together spellwork that can duplicate their abilities even less.”
Lowe frowned, her ears flattening out. “And what is he capable of doing to stop us?”
Loki shrugs. “If he can figure out where you are doing your research, he can do quite a bit. He was always the most powerful of the Aesir. He commands the weather, he is physically formidable, his armor is proof against all but the strongest magics or physical damage... if he takes it into his head to attack your research sites, he could cause quite a lot of damage.”
Whitford chuckled from behind her. “And he’s even got a public relations benefit at the moment. Remember the movies? They portray him as a hero. And Loki here as a villain.”
Both Loki and the Alpha growled at that. “He is no hero. He lives to do battle, and he doesn’t much care who he fights, or who gets hurt in the process. He’s got an honor code, of sorts, but he considers machinery and high magecraft to be cheating, and he possesses no tolerance for those who use either.”
Lowe sighed. “Wonderful. Another Immortal who doesn’t want to be challenged. But if he doesn’t like magical or technical assistance, how is he planning to get here? And where is he, for that matter?”
“Iceland. He’ll probably come by longboat.” Loki grinned. “I can’t imagine him buying an airline ticket.”
“He can’t fly on his own, then? Or teleport, for that matter?”
“No. Mjolnir is real enough, and a very dangerous weapon, but he can’t use it to fly.”
Lowe nodded, then leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and her muzzle on her folded hands. “And what aren’t you telling us?”
Loki nodded. “Very good. May I ask what gave me away?”
Lowe grinned. “You may ask, but I’m not telling.”
Loki chuckled. “Can’t blame me for trying. To rephrase your question, what do I get out of this?”
“That will do for now.”
“I want him taken down. You Americans have dealt with two of the Demon Immortals already, and I want him punished for what he did to my Nalfi.”
Lowe sat back again. “You wouldn’t happen to have ... arranged for him to take a dislike to us for that purpose?”
“I... may have asked a friend to bring you to his attention.”
The Alpha snorted from his perch on the sofa. <We had Morrigan talk to him about it. He considers the Stormcrow to be a peer.>
Lowe looked at the pair of them, her ears down. “So you deliberately stirred him up.”
Loki shrugged. “Morrigan stirred him up about it while it is still early in the cycle. We are hoping he’ll try something before his powers are fully restored. But rest assured, Diviner, he would have discovered what you are doing sooner or later, or merely decided that he needed to test himself against your champions. All we have done is make this attack come earlier than it might have otherwise.”
Lowe sighed. “This is not my decision to make, and the President is not going to be happy about having another Immortal oppose us, particularly one considered a hero by the popular culture. Is there a way I can reach you?”
Loki grinned. “Light a fire, and speak my name. I will hear.” He stood and bowed. “And for now, we will take our leave.”
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 52.7 kB
Listed in Folders
Heh, has 
Karno seen this? ^.^
Wise to have fresh meat for direwolves. I wonder if you could get one to live in a NYC apartment.
Karno seen this? ^.^Wise to have fresh meat for direwolves. I wonder if you could get one to live in a NYC apartment.
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