No one goes up against Loki, Norse god of mischief. It just isn’t done.
Imagine my surprise that someone has dared to make a play against me. Now, like pieces on a chess board, it’s my turn. I only wish I could make my next move a grand one. Unfortunately, it’s more important that I presently secure my position.
So let’s play.
“I have a bridge to sell you,” I say into my phone as I stand outside what was once my home and sanctuary. My Rolls Royce Phantom, the year’s newest model, sits in the brick driveway. I don’t think the realtor on the other end of the line is getting my point. “No, really, I have a bridge and I need to sell it along with the ten acres surrounding it. Do you have a dollar?”
I think she is about to hang up on me.
“Trust me, Mrs. Falsworth.” Only to a being of Midgard can I say those words and get away with it. Everyone else in the Nine Realms knows better. “It’ll make a great investment property for you and your husband. The bridge itself makes an artistic statement. The property is landscaped and ready for you to build a house. Or even if you just flipped it, you’d make a profit.” Dollar signs always entice someone still attached to their skin.
I take a long, blond Valkyrie hair in my hands and snap it in half. As the released, pink tendril of magic floats into the air, I regretfully whisper in a voice too soft for a human to hear, “Transform into a bridge.”
“Are you totally sure there’s nothing wrong with the property?” Mrs. Falsworth asks. “I mean, nothing sells for only a dollar.”
I wish I’d said a thousand dollars. That probably would’ve been more believable and less likely to break my charm spell. “Mrs. Falsworth, I have all the money I need. That’s why I can afford to own a piece of property with a brick driveway leading to a bridge. I mean, really, who else is eccentric enough to have that?”
I look at the newly materialized bridge transformed from what had once been my house. The foundation is gone, along with pipes and power lines, and the landscaping has rearranged to fill in the gaps as if the fabric of the Midgard knew I’d one day need to manipulate it exactly like this. The structure itself looks like a shorter version of the Brooklyn Bridge, but as I look closer, I notice that the bridge is white with flashes of rainbow-colored fire running through it. I almost wish it were night because the sight of it would remind me of home. My home on Asgard that is. My home here on Midgard is now a bridge. I shake my head. Couldn’t I have been a little more creative than that?
“And you said you had a contract all drawn up for the closing on your property?” the realtor asks.
“Straight from my attorney’s office this morning,” I answer, knowing that hadn’t been a lie. I’d woken him at home last night and told him I needed to sell my property fast. I’d made it worth his while to lose a few hours of sleep. “All I needed was the right buyer.”
“I’m on my way.”
Her line disconnects. I put my phone back in the case and stare at the bridge once more. I still don’t know who has broken into my sanctuary or why they are stalking me, but should they try to return to my house, I hope they end up in one of the bridge’s steel girders. Speaking of which…
I pull out another Valkyrie hair and break it. This time the wafting tendril is white. “Entrapment,” I whisper. The wisp disappears, but I see the bridge take on a white glow for a moment.
That made five hairs for five spells I’ve had to use since I’d banished the Minotaur back to his own realm. I really don’t like that I have to use them for my own protection. That isn’t how this game is supposed to be played.
It’s too bad my invisible foe didn’t ask an Asgardian what I do to my adversaries. I am, after all, paroled to Midgard for allegedly committing the murder of another god – let me ask you what’s wrong with that picture? Even a human can understand that. My penance is to save humanity, as if that were possible.
A black SUV turns into the driveway and crawls toward me. Mrs. Falsworth parks behind my Rolls then gets out, her black high heels clicking on the bricks, while her gaze is locked on the bridge.
“This really is quite impressive, Mr. …” She suddenly seems to realize that I hadn’t given her my name.
“Loki, please call me Loki.
“Like Loki from those movies?”
I force a charming smile. She seems to do a double take. I know what she is doing, what everyone had been doing since the movie, Thor, had been released. She is checking to see if I really am a certain actor who portrays me. I can’t help the chuckle. Okay, so he’d done a good job playing me. Wasn’t it only a little fair that I get to play him for a while? I come as close to him as he did to me. Just close enough to not quite be right. I am the great deceiver after all.
“Yes,” I say slowly. “Like Loki of the Norse mythology.”
She already has in her hand a dollar bill. She unfolds it now. “A dollar, you said.”
“A dollar.”
“You’ve got the paperwork?”
“Closing statement is right here. I’m sure you’ll see everything is in order.” I lay out the paperwork on the trunk of my Phantom. Reaching beneath my suit jacket, I pull out a pen, which I hand to her. “My attorney has marked the spots where you need to sign and initial.”
She doesn’t even glance at the contract itself, just flips to the pages tagged with little yellow sticky flags and writes her name. When she’s made it through the document, she hands my pen back to me.
“My turn to sign,” I say. I tuck the pen in my pocket and flip to each marked spot in the statement. I’ve grinned in amusement as I’ve watched humans lick an envelope and grimace from the taste of the sealing gum. Never have I performed the mundane act of licking an envelope, but it is similar to what I do now. I run my tongue over the paper where I am to sign, then blow across the lightly moistened page. Loki of Asgard appears in blue letters on the lines.
I look up to see Mrs. Falsworth staring at me. She is totally aghast, beside herself even. I smile, delighting in her shock.
Tauntingly, I turn the paper and show her my signature on the lines. “It is perfectly legal,” I tell her. “Did I mention that my attorney uses a special stamp which only my saliva can activate?” Now that part is a bold faced lie, but it sounds plausible. I wait a moment to see if the snake venom taste is going to fill my mouth. It doesn’t, but of course I wasn’t trying to run mischief with my words and bend her will to mine. I was simply lying. Sometimes the distaste backfires though as if to prove that it can and it’s best to be sure.
I finish my signatures throughout the document. Mrs. Falsworth is still watching me as if I’m going to turn green and sprout antennas. For but a moment, I am tempted to give her that vision. But seriously, I cannot delay here any longer. I must be going.
“I did say that I am rich and eccentric, did I not?” I say as though calmly restating a fact to a child.
I pull the duplicate closing statement from the first and start to hold it out to her. “It’s all yours,” I began, then I pull the statement away as she starts to reach for it. “After you hand over your dollar.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Once again she straightens out the dollar, even partially folding it lengthwise as though that would help stiffen the crumpled bill.
I take the dollar from her and give her the documents. “Enjoy your new property.”
“I will. I’m glad you called me and let me know it was for sale, Loki.” She seems to look at me with confusion for a moment. Is it a hint of recollection about our previous dealings? “Why did you call me?”
“If I’d put out an ad that said, ‘Bridge for sale, call Loki,’ would you really have answered it?” I climb into my Phantom and start the engine. It’s best that she does not remember receiving my help in the past. Some are never meant to recall those events. Before I draw the door closed, I look at her once more. “I just knew you were the one to own the property. Call it a gut feeling.” I pull the door closed and shift the Rolls into gear.
As I exit the driveway listening to the tires hum over the bricks for the last time, I look at the snowman totem in the seat beside me. I am now on the run.