A TOUCH OF BLUE

 

 

Loki could not stop looking at his arm. It looked normal now, but during the fight against the Jotuns there had been a moment when their icy blue coloration had spread across his flesh. Not as an infection, but as if the touch of one of Laufey’s Jotun warriors had awakened something in Loki that only his body remembered. The blue color, and the chill that had come with it, were gone as soon as the Jotuns broke physical contact with Loki. He had told no one.

“We should never have let him go,” Volstagg said. His normal boisterous spirits had given way to gloom.

“There was no stopping him,” Sif said.

Fandral agreed. “At least he’s only banished, not dead. Which is what we’d all be if that guard hadn’t told Odin where we’d gone.”

“How did the guard even know?” Volstagg asked.

There was a pause. Then Loki said, “I told him.”

“What?” Fandral was shocked.

“I told him to go to Odin after we’d left,” Loki said. “Though he should be flogged for taking so long.”

Volstagg grew angry. “You told the guard?”

“I saved our lives!” Loki said. “And Thor’s. I had no idea Father would banish him for what he did.”

Sif, as always, was already looking for solutions. “Loki, you’re the only one who can help Thor now,” she said. “You must go to the All-Father and convince him to change his mind!”

“And if I do, then what?” Loki asked. “I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is. He’s arrogant. He’s reckless. He’s dangerous. You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its king?”

None of them wanted to admit it, but Loki had a point. He waited for them to say something. When they didn’t, he left the room. Sif and the Warriors Three watched him go.

“He may speak about the good of Asgard, but he’s always been jealous of Thor,” Sif said.

“True, but we should be grateful to him. He did save our lives,” Volstagg pointed out.

Hogun, who spoke rarely, spoke then. “Laufey said there were traitors in the House of Odin.”

“Why is it every time you choose to speak, it has to be something dark and ominous?” Fandral complained.

“A master of magic could easily bring three Jotuns into Asgard,” Hogun said.

The other three looked at him, understanding what he meant. Loki could have done it. Who else in Asgard had more reason?

But it was unthinkable. “No, surely not,” Volstagg said.

“Loki’s always been one for mischief, but you’re talking about something else entirely,” Fandral added.

Sif tended to agree with Hogun. “Who else could elude Heimdall’s gaze with tricks of light and shadow?”

Volstagg thought of something else. “The ceremony was interrupted just before Thor was named king.” That was suspicious timing.

“We should go to the All-Father,” Sif said.

“And tell him what?” Fandral wanted to know. That his son betrayed the throne? Oh, and by the way, he should go back on his banishment of Thor just because we want him to?”

“It’s our duty,” Sif insisted. “If any of our suspicions are right, then all of Asgard is in danger.”

Down in the Vault, Loki thought he probably knew what Sif and the Warriors Three were talking about. They would suspect him by now. They had never trusted him. Few Asgardians believed Loki had the realm’s best interests at heart—but they did not know him. He had only ever wanted to please Odin and prove himself worthy.

The Casket of Ancient Winters stood on its pedestal before the steel gate hiding the Destroyer. Loki walked to the pedestal and grasped it with both hands.

As he did, the blue color he had first seen in Jotunheim spread up his hands and arms. He felt it, a deep chill in his body, as though something inside him was being awakened by touching the Casket.

The gate hiding the Destroyer began to fold away into itself. The Destroyer stepped forth, its Odinforce flames beginning to glow. Loki ignored it. He felt the chill spreading with the blue color, all over his body. It covered his face, and he felt something change, even in his eyes.

“Stop!” came a commanding voice from the far end of the chamber.

Loki turned to see his father. Behind him he heard the Destroyer stop and step back behind the gate. It reformed in front of the gate, hiding itself away again.

There was pain in Odin’s eyes, and regret.

“Am I cursed?” Loki asked. He needed answers. What was happening to him?

“No,” Odin said. “Put the Casket down.”

Loki did, replacing it on the pedestal. As he let it go, he felt warmth flood through his body again. He watched the blue color fade away from his skin.

“What am I?” he asked.

“You’re my son,” Odin answered.

“What more than that?” Loki demanded. He thought he knew the truth, but he wanted to hear Odin say it.

But Odin could not reply. Loki would have to do it for him. “The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim the last day of the war… was it?”

Odin looked Loki in the eye. “No,” he said. He sighed, knowing he would have to tell the whole story. Leaning on Gungnir for support, he began.

“In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant’s offspring—abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey’s son.”

Loki was stunned by this revelation. He was not just a Jotun, but the son of the Jotun king? The same king he had bargained with for his friends’ lives?

“Laufey’s son…” he repeated, as if by saying it aloud he could begin to make sense of it. “Why? The temple was littered with Jotun bodies. You were at war. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child,” Odin said—but Loki, so skilled in the arts of persuasion and lying, knew there was more to it.

“You took me for a purpose,” he said. “What was it?”

Odin did not reply.

“Tell me!” Loki cried out, begging to know the truth. Everything he thought he had known about himself—and about the All-Father—was crumbling away.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace… through you,” Odin said. “But those plans no longer matter.”

“So I am no more than another stolen relic,” Loki said bitterly. “Locked up here until you might have use of me.”

Odin shook his head. “Why do you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn’t you?” Loki asked.

“You are my son. My blood. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”

Overtaken by anger and hurt, Loki said, “Why? Because I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?”

“Don’t,” Odin said.

“It all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years,” Loki said. He took a step toward Odin, growing more and more angry. “Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Jotun sitting on the Throne of Asgard!”

Odin began to shake. Loki knew Odin was weak, but right now he did not care. He had been deceived. He had been a pawn of Odin’s for his whole life. He wasn’t even a real Asgardian.

Very well, Loki thought. Now I know the truth. Soon enough, so will the rest of Asgard. But first he had a few more plans to lay.

He walked past his father, toward the door that would lead up and out of the Vault.

“Listen to me!” Odin cried out behind him. “Loki!”

Loki heard a thump. He turned and saw Odin slumping against the wall. He slid down the wall and sprawled on the stairs leading up to the door. Strange trails of light swirled behind every motion, a sure sign that the Odinsleep was beginning.

Loki ran to him, all of his anger suddenly overcome by fear. He loved Odin. Even though Odin had lied to him, that love was still stronger than his hurt. He knelt next to Odin and gathered the sleeping All-Father in his arms.

“Guards!” he shouted.