CHAPTER SEVEN

THE CELEBRATION had been going on strong for the last few hours, and there wasn’t an end in sight. Asgardians strolled through the streets, rejoicing the fact that the Nine Realms were safe at last.

Friends laughed, kids played, and warriors recounted their many victorious battles. At one particular pub, Thor and the Warriors Three were holding court, with Volstagg as the master of ^{ceremonies—and the master storyteller—even if his stories tended to be somewhat exaggerated and partly fabricated. Still, his yarns kept everyone entertained, particularly his wife and children, who were on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear how they escaped the latest death-trap and insurmountable odds. Across the room, Fandral sat with a bar wench on each arm, while Thor stood in the background, alone but amused.}

“I threw the beast off, but six more beat me to the ground, crushing my sword as if it were paper!” Volstagg continued to the captive group. His children jumped onto his lap to hear the story’s big dramatic ending, and momentarily distracted him. “Where was I?” he suddenly stopped and asked.

“You were surrounded,” Thor answered.

“By the most vile criminals the Nine Realms had ever produced,” Volstagg continued, without missing a beat. “One thousand strong marched upon us!”

“One thousand?” Fandral quietly questioned to Thor.

Thor smiled at Volstagg’s elaboration. “One thousand each,” he said to Fandral, kidding.

“And who was there to face this horde but Fandral the Dashing, Hogun the Grim, and Volstagg the—”

“—Voluminous!” a wench yelled from across the table.

“Fat!” Fandral immediately corrected.

“Invincible!” Volstagg stated. “To our left, savage beasts. Their fangs like knives!” he said, scaring the young children. “To our right, soldiers of fortune, blood dripping from their blades. I don’t mind telling you, I feared for Thor’s life.” Thor raised an eyebrow, surprised at where this story was headed.

“But with steely courage, inspired spirit, and an ax…” Volstagg said as he slammed his battle-ax onto the table. The kids jumped as the ax sank into the wood and stuck out of the tabletop. “Victory was ours!” Volstagg yelled, ending this story to the cheer of the crowd.

“Truly a tale for the ages,” Thor remarked with a smirk.

“By the time the night is through, we’ll have defeated Surtur himself,” Fandral said, referring to the fire demon from Muspelheim, who was one of the most heinous enemies of Thor and the Warriors Three.

Thor watched as Volstagg kissed his wife and cuddled with his children before beginning his next story. He then looked over at Fandral, who now had three giggling maidens at his side. Trying to revive his old enthusiasm, Thor threw his stein to the ground and yelled for another. There was a roar from the crowd as they did the same. With everyone cheering and drinking, Thor quietly made his way to the exit.

“There was a time when you would celebrate for a week,” a voice said from behind him. It was Lady Sif. She smiled at Thor, and he smiled back. “There was a time when every battle came down to us, you and me, back to back, fighting for each other.” Sif took a long drink and watched Thor’s smile fade. “Stay. We will celebrate like old times. Surely the Allfather will have no further tasks for you tonight,” Sif said. But Thor was in no mood for celebrating.

“This is one I set for myself,” Thor told her. And without saying the words, Sif knew just who and what Thor was talking about.

“There are more than Nine Realms,” she said. “The future king must focus on more than one.”

“I have always been grateful for your words and your counsel, Lady Sif.” And with that, Thor turned and walked off into the cool Asgardian night, alone.

Back on Earth, in the abandoned industrial complex in London, Darcy, Ian, Maddie, and Navid were playing a game of Disappearing Shoes. They would find whatever object they could—be it bottles, shoes, or even car keys—and throw them into the void, waiting to see which ones returned and which ones disappeared.

“Were those our car keys?” Darcy asked after Ian’s latest throw.

“Maybe,” he sheepishly replied. They were, and unfortunately, they never reappeared.

And while the interns and the kids played, Jane continued on through the complex, her phase meter pinging wildly as she searched for clues.

At that same time, back on Asgard, Heimdall, the all-seeing keeper of the Rainbow Bridge, stood at his post at the edge of the observatory, scanning the cosmos. He did not turn when Thor approached, but spoke as soon as the prince was behind him. “You are not celebrating,” Heimdall said.

“Merriment can sometimes be a heavier burden than battle,” Thor replied.

“Then you are doing one of them incorrectly,” Heimdall observed. Thor couldn’t help but smile.

“How fare the stars?” Thor asked. “Let me guess: shining?”

“Play the fool all you like,” Heimdall began. “But when I taught you of the cosmos as a boy, you hung on my every word. Do you recall what you learned of the Convergence?” the sentry asked.

Thor remembered a little of its history. “The alignment of worlds…it approaches?” Thor asked.

“The universe has not been host to this marvel since before my watch began,” Heimdall replied. Thor thought back to the darkness he felt on Vanaheim.

“Have you noticed anything strange?” he asked.

“From here, I can see Nine Realms and ten trillion souls. You don’t know the meaning of the word strange,” Heimdall replied. Thor would have to be more specific.

“On our last campaign, I sensed something. We had won our battle, but a greater turmoil lay just outside my sight,” Thor explained.

Try as he might, Heimdall could not see any disturbances. But Thor did not take his leave. There was something else on his mind, and he knew that Heimdall knew why he was really there—but Heimdall was going to make Thor ask.

Finally, after several long seconds of awkward silence, Thor gave in.

“How is she?” Thor said at last.

Heimdall turned his gaze toward Midgard, then finally responded. “She is well. She studies the Convergence as you once did. Even as we speak, she nears the truth.”