When Bohdi’s eyes open, he’s still lying in the spider web hammock, but instead of it being slung to the forelimbs of the dragon, it is now suspended between what looks a lot like palm trees—only with branches. Pink sunlight is filtering through fronds above him. Mr. Squeakers is making snoring sounds as he swings at the end of a bungee line of spider silk. The breeze smells like water and fishy things. He hears the sounds of waves close by and cries that might be from birds above his head.
He inhales…and feels a twinge of pain as air enters his lungs. His stomach is clenched in hunger, and his left arm is tingling uncomfortably.
He glances down. Amy’s head is pillowed on his shoulder. One of her legs is tangled with his.
Even with tangled hair and no makeup, she looks really cute, and where her body presses against his, he’s warm. She’s soft, and it’s…nice. He’s not sure he wants to wake her, even if his arm hurts.
Every muscle in his body tenses. Maybe he should wake her. He has no idea where they are, and every near-idyllic moment on Nornheim seems to turn bad fast. He turns his head, and sees a beach with sparkling pinkish sand, tiny birds darting through the waves. Looking the other way, he sees a shorter stretch of sand punctuated by ankle-high, succulent plants with purple flowers. A path winds through the succulents to a palm forest with thin underbrush.
No dragons, kappa, adze, alligators, or spiders… Something is obviously amiss.
Amy stirs against his shoulder and then sits up with a gasp, the hammock swaying with her motion. Not moving, she stares at him wide-eyed.
There is something to say in this situation, something funny and flirty—or maybe something suave and suggestive—but all words leave him. Amy straddling his thigh brings the strangest sense of déjà vu.
“Hi,” she says quietly.
Bohdi licks his lips, about to reply, when there is a whoosh of air, the sound of footsteps in sand, and a cheery feminine voice says, “Oh, you are awake!”
Bodhi looks up. Standing among the purple flowers is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She has caramel skin, huge brown eyes, a tiny perky nose, and lips like a bow that stretch into a radiant smile at his gaze. Her glistening black hair is pulled back from her face. Her clothing resembles traditional Indian attire. Her smooth, curved, belly peeks from between a low-slung orange silk skirt, and a short, sleeveless, yellow silk top. The very sheer orange sari she wears draped over her shoulder does nothing to hide…anything. Bohdi lifts his eyes so as not to stare at her belly button—and finds himself staring at the neckline of the top instead. It reveals a lot more than is traditional—partly because the top is small, partly because there is a lot to reveal. His mouth waters; he feels his eyes growing larger against his will. Steve says Bohdi’s “type” is breathing. It is true that Bohdi sees beauty in a wide range of ages, shapes, and sizes. That said, he does like voluptuous and this woman…
Flushing, he drops his eyes again, this time to her feet. Tiny toes bedecked with gold rings poke from beneath the skirt, and staring at them feels just as wrong, right, and good as staring at her breasts and hips.
The woman laughs, light and musical, and claps her hands together below her chin—snapping Bohdi’s attention back to her face. And then another set of hands comes from behind her back and rises to her ears. Bohdi’s jaw drops…just as a third set of hands clasps in front of her breasts.
Bohdi’s eyes widen. Six arms. Huh. Actually…his mind starts wandering down a path where he imagines what all six of those arms could do at once. He licks his lips and swallows.
Bouncing on her heels, the woman says, “It’s so wonderful to meet you both.”
Both?
Bohdi’s eyes slide to Amy. She's sitting at the edge of the hammock, legs slung over the side. He hadn’t noticed that she had moved. But her eyes are still on him. Is he imagining her shoulders slumping just slightly? It’s hard to tell in that damnable shapeless tee shirt.
“Errr…” says Bohdi.
Biting her lip, Amy turns quickly away.
Taking hold of her skirt with a delicate brown hand, the woman gives a deep curtsy…revealing more of her ample assets. Bohdi’s skin goes hot.
“My name is Chloe.” Standing, she gestures with two arms toward the trees. “My sisters and I have prepared something for you to eat. Won’t you follow me?”
Amy slips off the hammock a little hesitantly.
Bohdi sits up…too fast apparently. His vision goes black, the world spins, and he feels his pulse pounding in his ears. When light and gravity return, Chloe’s head is cocked to the side. Four hands are on her hips. Her other two arms are crossed over her chest, and she is tapping her chin with an elegant finger.
“Are you all right?” Amy says.
Bohdi sits up straighter, remembering she is there. Throwing his legs over the side, he says, “Never better,” even though every time he inhales, he can feel the path of air burning its way into his lungs.
Crawling out of the hammock, Bohdi steps out from beneath the palm fronds with Amy. They both stop, look up, and gasp. About a quarter of a mile away, the biggest silvery column they’ve yet to see rises from the trees. There is an enormous cavern in its base. Bohdi can see daylight through it. There are also small steps that lead up to what looks like a dwelling carved into the column itself.
“Our home,” says Chloe. “But for now, this way.” With that, she turns and vanishes into the trees.
Amy and Bohdi follow her. They’ve barely stepped away from the beach when Chloe stops in a small clearing. Behind her a gentle waterfall gurgles into a crystal pool. Holding up all her arms she says, “And now you will eat.”
Before Bohdi can even process her words, there is another gust of wind from behind him, and then there are two other women standing in the clearing. Both of them have six arms like Chloe, and both are wearing clothing that could be described as vaguely East Indian. But one woman is African in appearance, her skin darker than Bohdi’s ever seen on anyone, her eyes Asian, her hair orange-red and tied in braids that fall halfway down her back. Where Chloe’s frame is soft, hers is taller, lean and athletic, but still gorgeous. It would be impossible to turn his eyes away from her if her companion wasn’t equally beautiful, and just as different. The last woman is pale and Caucasian in appearance. She has youthful, finely chiseled features, and bright blue eyes, but her hair is silvery white. Her frame is as thin as any runway model.
“My sisters,” says Chloe.
The tall, African-looking woman bows her head. “I am Lache.” Her voice is deep and rich, and a small smile pulls at her lips. Gesturing with three arms, she says, “And this is Addie.”
Addie dips her chin slightly, but otherwise her face has no expression.
Beside Bohdi, Amy says, “Errr…nice to meet you.”
Addie’s lip curls in Amy’s direction, and her expression turns so openly hostile both Amy and Bohdi take a step back.
“I cannot say the same,” Addie hisses, her eyes locked with Amy’s.
“Addie,” Lache snaps. “She is our guest, as is Bohdi. Behave.”
Addie scowls and crosses all six of her arms over her front.
Bohdi looks between the three women, and takes a wild stab in the dark. “Wait…are you the Norns?”
Addie’s eyes narrow, Lache smiles, and Chloe laughs. “Of course!”
Bohdi suddenly feels as though a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Well, I have a question for you—”
Lache steps forward, her hips swaying mesmerizingly. “And we will give you an answer…if you fulfill the task we have chosen for you.” Chloe giggles. Addie smiles, and all the hairs on the back of Bohdi’s neck stand on end.
Lifting her hands, Lache says, “But for now, eat.” At those words, she steps aside. There is a gust of wind and where she stood a table and chairs appears. The table is laden with a riot of shapes and colors that can only be fruit. There is also something that might have been a bird, but is now cooked to a golden brown. There is a plate with small slightly charred fishes, and a basket with loaves of breads of every sort.
“Oh,” says Amy, taking a step forward.
Bohdi’s mouth waters.
“One more thing,” says Addie. The thin woman waves her hand and a centerpiece appears on the table: an elevated platter with a dead snake coiled into a pillar. Stuffed in the snake’s fanged maw is an apple.
“Since you enjoy destroying my creatures!” Addie hisses at Amy.
Amy takes a step back, right into Bohdi. He puts a hand on her shoulder. Addie’s eyes follow the motion and her nostrils flare.
“Addie!” Chloe says. “That isn’t nice!” With a wave of her hand, the snake centerpiece disappears. Rolling her eyes, Addie disappears, too.
“I’m sorry,” Chloe says, stepping toward Amy, eyes soft, and leaning forward just slightly, giving Bohdi a rather nice view. His fingers tighten on Amy’s shoulder, and he squeezes his eyes shut. It’s not like he’s getting anywhere with six-armed, gorgeous goddesses, and something about all this just feels wrong. Lifting his head, he opens his eyes and focuses on a seagull-like creature skimming above the trees.
“She’s not happy with you right now,” Chloe says. “But of course, it’s understandable, isn’t it?”
Bohdi’s eyes snap down to the Norn.
Drawing closer to Bohdi, Amy says, “No, not, really…”
Bending further at the waist, revealing even more, Chloe reaches forward with two hands to touch Amy’s cheeks, her other hands come forward to stroke her sides. “But I like you.”
Bohdi’s brain disengages from the conversation almost completely at that point. But he’s vaguely aware of Chloe saying, “Have you ever thought of being a boy?”
Bohdi tilts his head. Chloe appears to have a birthmark just above her left…
“Errrrr…” says Amy.
“Enough, Chloe!” says Lache.
Bohdi’s gaze slips to the tall woman. She meets his eyes and smiles, showing all her teeth. “Eat now. You’ll need your strength.”
Bohdi swallows. His hand tightens involuntarily on Amy’s shoulder. Reaching up, she takes her fingers in his.
Chloe giggles. “So cute!” And then she and Lache disappear in a gust of wind.
One of the gull-like creatures cries above their heads. Amy says. “Well, I guess we should eat…”
There is a swirl of wind, and Addie’s voice comes from behind them. “Yes, fatten up!”
Bohdi and Amy turn just in time to see Addie’s smirking form disappear.
“That was…” Bohdi starts to murmur.
“Oh!” says Chloe.
Bohdi and Amy turn again to see Chloe standing by the table, a large basket in her hands. “Soap and towels,” she says with a smile, setting the basket down.
Lache appears beside her sister, another basket in her arms. Looking Bohdi up and down, the dark woman says, “You really need to bathe.” Setting her own basket down she says, “And I’ve brought clean clothes.” She gives Bohdi a broad, gleaming white smile. “Don’t worry, there are no kappa, alligators, or snakes in the water.”
“Bon appetite!” says Chloe.
“āp kā khānā svādiṣṭa ho,” says Lache, in the Hindu equivalent.
Chloe looks at her sister and giggles. “Getting in the mood?”
“Shhhhhh…” Lache says with a smirk in her sister’s direction. And then both women disappear.
“Well…” says Amy, her hand still in his.
“That was different,” says Bohdi. Getting in the mood? He knows what he’d like to think that means.
They look at each other, and then on some unspoken agreement, they cautiously approach the table and sit down. With trembling hands they reach toward the food, Bohdi for something that looks comfortingly like Ruth’s Sunday biscuits, and Amy for an orange, triangular-ish, shaped fruit.
As they start eating, all hesitation vanishes. Amy seems to know every fruit on the table. Bohdi doesn’t ask how. He doesn’t want to start her on the subject of her ex.
It’s not until Bohdi’s hands stop shaking that he realizes that his pink shirt is still tied around his wrist. As soon as he notices it, he has to see if his phone is working and has to see the picture of his parents. Still chewing a Svartheimer root pear, Bohdi lifts the bundle, unwraps it on the table, and gingerly touches the components. Everything feels dry. Hands shaking again, he hastily puts his phone back together, Amy watching quietly from the side.
Pressing the power button, he closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for it not to work.
“It’s on!” Amy says.
Sighing in relief, Bohdi enters his passcode and navigates to his photos. The touch screen must be damaged, because it seems too responsive. Biting his lip, he still is able to pull the picture up.
He stares at the smiling man, woman, and baby that maybe is him, and an odd sort of emptiness overcomes him. He’s on an alien world with six-armed women, eating fruit from yet another realm, and it’s the picture in front of him that feels unreal. He stares at it for a few more minutes and then passes the phone to Amy.
“That’s why I came to Nornheim,” he says.
“Is that your girlfriend?” Amy says, staring down at the phone.
Bohdi’s brain sputters. “What—”
Amy holds up his phone revealing a picture of Bohdi on leave during MOS. He’s with Nat at a bar. They’re kissing. It’s on the lips, but their bodies are far apart.
He shakes his head and smiles. “Oh, no. That’s my friend Nat from MOS. She’s a lesbian.” She was Bohdi’s best friend in MOS.
Amy’s eyebrow hikes up.
Laughing, Bohdi says, “There might have been alcohol involved.” Leaning close to Amy, he whispers conspiratorially, “But she tells me, if I were a girl, she’d totally do me.” Giving Amy a wink, he says, “If I were a girl I’d totally do her, too.”
He’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but he thinks Amy’s cheeks have gone a little pink.
Waggling his eyebrows, Bohdi snatches the phone from Amy. And then scowling at the wonky scroll feature, he tries to navigate back to the photo of his parents. Almost to himself he says, “I don’t know why every man doesn’t have a lesbian friend. They’re the most underutilized source of priceless information.” And Nat was just plain cool. He looks up at Amy and says wistfully, “She’s how I know women’s underwear is so comfortable.”
Amy’s cheeks do go very red at that—which makes Bohdi snicker.
Narrowing her eyes, she says, “If she is a lesbian. How—”
Bohdi nods. “Had to borrow hers. I woke up in the back of her car with my underwear draped over a potted cactus.” Seeing Amy aghast at the visual, Bohdi waves a hand and says, “There’s a long story behind it…”
“Do tell,” says Amy.
“That, I’m sure, would be very interesting if I could remember it,” Bohdi says. Finding the picture of his parents again, Bohdi hands the phone back to Amy.
She takes it and her eyebrows go up. “This is your girlfriend? She looks familiar…”
Bohdi snatches the phone from her again. It’s a picture of Marion and him at a Cubs game. She’s beaming, perky, and cute—as usual. He shakes his head. “This is Marion, you probably saw her at headquarters. We’re just friends.”
Actually, the polite term for it might be friends with benefits. But Marion asked him to keep it quiet, and he likes Marion, even if out of the sack he finds her as exciting as well…baseball… He’s sure Marion’s feelings about him are pretty much the same, even if baseball isn’t the metaphor she’d use.
“Are you drunk in this picture, too?” Amy says, leaning over to take another look at the photo. Bohdi snorts. His eyes are half closed in the picture and he has a beer in his hand. “I wish,” he says. “I was just half asleep. I don’t know how anyone stands baseball. It’s a lot of foul balls, time outs, and crotch grabbing.”
Amy groans. “I know!”
Bohdi sighs and shakes his head. It isn’t that Marion isn’t clever, or interesting… It’s just that they don’t have any interests in common.
Bohdi scrolls to the picture of the happy Indian family. Handing the phone to her, he says, “I came here to find them.”
“Oh,” says Amy taking the phone from him.
Bohdi swallows. “I think they’re my parents.”
Amy’s eyes meet him over the phone. “You don’t remember anything…before?”
Bohdi looks down at the ground. “No. Not about them. Not about my culture—I’m a blank slate.” He rubs his jaw. Even his accent has faded. And he has a low tolerance for spicy food. Asha, an Indian girl he’d dated for a time, thought that was the saddest thing ever.
“They look like such nice people,” she says as she looks back down at the photo.
The honest response would be, I know. But the conversation is getting too heavy. He gives his best cheeky grin and says, “You say that like you’re surprised.”
Amy lifts her eyes to meet his.
Putting his hand over his chest, he gives her his best hurt puppy dog look and says, “You think I’m not nice?”
Amy’s eyes narrow. “Nice isn’t the first word I’d choose,” she says.
Bohdi sits up straighter. “Hey!” But he feels the affront melting away.
Handing the phone back to him, she says, “Still, you’re all right.” She gets up and walks over to the baskets the Norns left. Popping a top off a vial tucked between some towels, she says, “I am so tired of smelling like water moccasin.”
“You don’t smell like water moccasin,” says Bohdi.
Smiling, she says, “You just don’t notice because you smell like dead fish.”
“I…” Bohdi lifts his shirt, inhales, and winces. “Thought that was the surf…” he mumbles.
Joining Amy, he begins picking through the contents of the other basket. Pulling out what looks like a bunch of bright purple silk fabric, he says, “I think this is for you.”
Regarding it a moment, Amy says, “No, it’s too long. I think it’s for you.”
“But it’s a skirt,” says Bohdi, blinking a little as his vision goes blurry for a moment.
“Nope, just poofy pants,” says Amy.
Bohdi holds the fabric up in front of him. They are pant-like, but… Turning his head and lifting his nose, he sniffs dismissively. “I refuse to dress like a giant grape.”
Amy giggles and he can’t contain his grin of triumph. Dropping the pants to hold them against his waist, he whispers to Amy, “Maybe they think I’m Aladdin…you know, ’cause I’m brown.”
Amy puts a hand to her mouth and laughs. She has a cute smile and a cute laugh…and he wants more. Bohdi begins to sashay his hips and sing. “Daaa-da…Dot-dot-da-da-daaaa…Daaa-da…Dot-dot-da-da-daaaa…”
Amy laughs, “That’s the I Dream of Jeannie theme song!”
Flicking a wrist, giving a Bollywood-worthy hip shake, Bohdi says, “I don’t know the Aladdin theme! Da-da…Dot-dot-da-da-daaaa…”
Amy laughs so hard she looks like she’s about to fall over. Bohdi’s laughing, too, somehow able to ignore the pain in his lungs. And then there is crack from the sky behind him, a boom, and the whole world shakes. Bohdi falls face first to the ground, coughing and spitting dirt from his mouth.
Thor’s voice rages through the trees. “What is the meaning of this?” Rolling over, Bohdi lifts his head. Amy is immediately at his side. Thor’s hammer lies in the sandy loam just beyond his feet. Bohdi raises his eyes. Thor’s chariot hangs in the sky. It’s coated with black soot and bloodstains and is missing a wheel. Lashed to the front of it is a military drone.
Bohdi swallows, and exhales in a raspy wheeze.
The chariot starts to descend. Bohdi meets Thor’s eyes. The space Viking lifts a hand and the hammer flies up into it. Swinging the hammer in the air, Thor roars. “I have searched for you—through fire and in forests! I have fought winged dinosaurs, and giant spiders, and I find you here—making jests!”
Thor leaps from the chariot before it’s even met the ground. Lips curling into a snarl, he strides toward Amy and Bohdi, hammer raised.
Amy’s hand tightens on Bohdi’s shoulder. There is a whoosh of air. Bohdi blinks and finds himself staring up at the back of the silvered-haired Addie. “Easy there, Gilgamesh,” she purrs. “No one dies on this island except by my command.”
Thor stops in his tracks. His nostrils flare. His gaze locks on the Norn.
From beside Bohdi, Amy shouts at the now very red-faced warrior. “Oh, yeah? We fell into a nest of giant spiders! We fought big spiders, baby spiders, fire, kappa, alligators, adze, and snakes! Bohdi caught a fever and nearly died!”
Bohdi blinks. Nearly died?
Thor’s eyes slide to Amy. He snorts. “You embellish.”
There is another rush of air, and Lache is suddenly beside Thor, idly stroking his hammer. “No, Beowulf, they don’t.”
From behind Amy and Bohdi comes a giggle. Bohdi turns to see Chloe pressing four hands to her mouth. “Sorry, Master Skywalker, but it’s true. They had a more exciting adventure than you.”
Lache tsks. “Chloe, this isn’t Skywalker, you are getting your heroes confused.”
“Indeed, I am not,” rumbles Thor, pulling his hammer away from Lache. “Skywalker is…was…one of Loki's names." He eyes the other two Norns. "Nor am I Beowulf, or Gilgamesh.”
Giving a light laugh, Addie says, “Forgive us. You heroes are all alike…” Turning her head to Chloe, Addie says, “This is obviously Hercules…Loki’s sidekick.”
“Loki’s what?” shouts Thor, lightning whipping from his hammer.
All three of the Norns break into laughter.
“I am Thor!” the space Viking bellows.
Waving a hand, Lache says, “Whatever. When you’re ready to talk in a civilized manner, you may walk up to our home and ask your question, Hiawatha.”
Walking over to Thor’s chariot, Chloe says, “Don’t bring this thing.” She sniffs. “It’s filthy.”
And then all three of the women disappear.
Thor spins in place with a growl. He looks up at the towering column, his eyes narrow, and then he starts beating a path through the trees in that direction. Growling to himself, he reaches out with his hammer and knocks down a few trees—apparently just out of spite.
Still sprawled out on the ground, Bohdi watches him go. When Thor’s disappeared from view, Amy sits down on the sand beside him.
“Are you all right?”
“Sure,” Bohdi lies. He rubs his forehead and gets slowly to his feet. “Why don’t you take the first dip?” He mumbles, tipping his head toward the pool of water. “I think I need a nap.”
He stumbles in the direction of the hammock, and Amy follows, just behind him.
“I’m too tired to sneak a peek if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bohdi says snippily.
“That isn’t what I’m worried about,” Amy says, but Bohdi’s only half aware.
He falls into the hammock a few moments later and closes his eyes. He’s dimly aware of Amy’s hand on his forehead. What seems like just a few minutes later, she’s shaking him. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.”
Bohdi swats in the general direction of her voice. “Go away!”
Amy catches his hands. “Bohdi, wake up! You’re scaring me!”
Something in her voice makes him shiver, even though it feels like the day has gotten much warmer.
He opens his eyes and sees Amy sitting sideways beside him. She swallows. “Your fever is back.” She bites her lip. “This happened when Beatrice caught pneumonia, too. Her fever would go away, and then come back…”
She motions toward the trees. “The pool is cool. It will help keep your temperature down.” She raises an eyebrow. With what sounds like forced cheeriness, she says, “You don’t need anymore brain damage.”
Bohdi snorts at the joke. And then for the first time, he realizes that Amy’s hair is wet, combed back, and pulled into a neat ponytail again. She doesn’t look beautiful like Addie, Chloe, or Lache, but she looks real and human. She’s wearing her jeans and a too large linen shirt. The shirt wouldn’t be flattering, except it’s almost sheer, and from this angle, he thinks he can see the outline of her form beneath it. It might be the cut of the shirt, but her breasts look fuller, her waist finer, and the slope between her hips and belly button the perfect place to rest his hands, pull her in and just…snuggle.
Oh hell. He’s dying.
He sits up so quickly his vision goes black. Before she can say anything, he stands and heads back in the direction of the pool.
x x x x
“What do you think?” Bohdi says, buttoning a small navy vest over his bare chest. He’s sitting on a towel, with his back against a boulder. On his bottom half, he’s wearing his pants from work.
Sitting in front of him, Amy studies his appearance. “Well…”
Bohdi waggles his eyebrows. He’d like to stand up and strike a pose, but even though the dip in the water made him feel better, he still feels…off. Light headed. A little too warm.
“It’s flattering…” she says.
Bohdi adopts a bored expression, and casually flexes his biceps. When he turns and sneaks a peek at Amy, she’s blushing.
His lungs are burning and he feels like falling over—but he can’t help grinning. It’s true, he’s not precisely huge, but Steve’s forcing him to work out has definitely kept him toned. Amy’s blush is worth every boring moment at the gym. He is so buying Steve a beer when he gets back.
Amy regains her composure and says, “But it’s kind of Chippendale-ish, isn’t it?”
Bohdi’s watched Chip and Dale with Claire. He blinks. “Chipmunks?” He looks down at the vest. It isn’t striped like a chipmunk.
Amy snickers into her hand. “How is this the one cultural reference you’ve missed?”
Bohdi snips. “What? When it comes to cultural references, I’m only two years old. I haven’t watched every Disney cartoon…”
Amy laughs aloud. “No!”
“Well, what then?” Bohdi says, skin prickling.
“Strippers, Bohdi,” Amy says, face almost straight. “Male strippers.” She puts a hand over her mouth, obviously stifling another laugh.
Bohdi just stares at her. He hates it when he doesn’t know stuff like that. Lifting his chin defiantly, he bats his eyelashes. “Are you saying I could be a male stripper?”
Amy’s mouth makes a small “o.”
Breaking into a grin, Bohdi says, “Because if you are, I think I…”
Love you. A cough wracks through him, cutting off the last words. And maybe it’s good, even if he was just fooling.
“Bohdi!” Amy says, crawling over to his side.
And he doesn’t mean to, but he’s suddenly leaning on her. Holding a hand to his mouth, tears coming to his eyes—because of the force of the cough, or because he’s furious at his body for being so weak, he’s not sure. How the hell is he supposed to climb up to the Norns like this? He came all this way, and he can barely sit up.
The fit seems to last forever.
When he finally regains himself, he feels hotter, less lucid. It takes him the span of a few wheezy gasps to realize a shadow has fallen over them.
Lungs rasping, Bohdi lifts his head
…and finds himself staring into the face of Thor.
The space Viking is staring down at him. He doesn’t look angry. Just confused. Maybe even concerned.
Thor’s fingers flex on his hammer. “I…” The large man takes a deep breath. “…Overreacted earlier.”
Amy exhales softly.
“You must understand…” Thor says. “I thought I had failed to protect two weaker beings in my charge. I mourned your deaths…” Thor swallows, his eyes flit between Amy and Bohdi. “I apologize for my outburst.”
Bohdi feels Amy shift beside him.
Thor falls to one knee before them. “You are dying,” he says to Bohdi.
Bohdi sinks against the boulder he’s leaning on. Amy grabs his hand. “No, if we get him home, and get him a round of antibiotics, he’ll be fine.”
Thor shakes his head. “The pneumonia is not what’s killing him…It is his own body’s over-reaction to it.”
“Oh…” says Amy. Bohdi hears her swallow.
“How do you know that?” Bohdi wheezes, leaning into Amy. He would much rather believe her assessment…and yet…
Thor bows his head. “The Lord of Chaos can feel lies… I can feel sickness…and injury.” Raising his head, looking a little bashful, he shrugs. “It is not a particularly manly ability. But it is so.”
Little alarm bells go off in Bohdi’s mind. The Lord of Chaos can sense lies… Why is that important?
Amy squeezes Bohdi’s hand. “It’s true…” she whispers. “Thor can help you. I remember…”
Thor stretches a hand toward Bohdi’s chest. Bohdi scrambles backward in the sand, and presses himself against Amy, instinctively.
“Let me help you,” Thor says.
Amy squeezes Bohdi’s hand again. “Let him.”
Bohdi coughs. “If I let you…will I owe you something?” He doesn’t know why he asks. The words just come out.
Thor’s shoulders slump, as though Bohdi’s wounded him. “No. This I offer in friendship.”
Bohdi blinks. When did he and Thor become friends? He almost wants to say he’ll wait for the antibiotics. Something is wrong here, and yet… He looks up at the column. He won’t be able to walk those steps if he keeps feeling like this. So he nods and coughs out, “Sure, do your worst.”
Thor presses his hand against Bohdi’s chest, just above the V of the vest. His fingers are cool and calloused. He says nothing. Just holds his hand there.
Bohdi is starting to feel silly…and then Thor’s fingers start to warm. The warmth spreads to Bohdi’s skin, and then inside to his lungs. At first, it’s comfortable…and then it’s not. His lungs feel like they’re burning and he gasps.
Pushing hard on Bohdi’s chest, Thor says, “Exhale!”
Bohdi does. The air that rushes out of him is a heavy cloud of moisture and blurs the world around him.
“Again!” barks Thor.
Bohdi gulps down some air and then exhales. The same thing happens—though the moisture in the cloud is lighter this time.
“He’s clearing the water from your lungs,” Amy whispers.
The big man nods. He presses his hand more firmly against Bohdi’s chest and closes his eyes. “And now to still his immune system…”
The heat in his chest dissipates. Bohdi feels only warmth. He inhales…and smiles in awe and relief. “There is no more pain.” And he feels like he can stand up.
Nodding again, Thor pulls his hand away. Standing, he gestures at the still blinking drone attached to the chariot. “Although we’ve lost the magical wire that helps you open gates, it appears your allies are opening them anyway. Perhaps we can use the metal bird to contact them somehow?”
Bohdi tries not to look surprised at Thor’s foresightedness.
“They must be periodically checking in…” Amy says.
Bohdi meets her eyes. “We could probably give them a time when we’ll be at the gate…”
“Or…” says Thor.
Amy and Bohdi turn to him.
Putting a hand on his chin, Thor says, “It is true this realm is dark in Heimdall’s eyes. However, if there is a magical event large enough, it can act like a beacon… He would be able to see where we are…and my father could create a new gate to Asgard.”
“Uh…” says Bohdi. Amy draws closer to his side, if that were possible.
“As my faithful companions, you’d both be my honored guests,” Thor says.
Bohdi’s brow furrows. They hadn’t been companions that long…
“And able to stay as long as you like…” Thor says. “It is a beautiful realm, filled with wonders of magic and science.”
“No,” says Amy, her voice quavering.
Thor’s eyes slide to Amy. Her gaze is traveling between Bohdi and the space Viking. Standing up, she clears her throat. “And won’t you be off right away to find the new Loki anyway?”
Thor’s eyes don’t stray from her face. After a long moment, he says, “Aye, my father’s first orders upon my return will be to bring the new Destroyer to Asgard…for good.” His voice is almost a whisper.
Amy licks her lips nervously. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me where he is?” She shrugs. “Obviously there’d be no way for me to get to him before you…”
A long moment of silence stretches after her words. Bohdi swears he can hear every insect on the island cheeping. The tension is a little too much. Clearing his throat, he says, “The Destroyer…that’s one of Loki’s names, right? Doesn’t exactly sound like the guy you’d want to invite to the party…”
Both Amy’s and Thor’s eyes swing to where Bohdi sits against the rock.
“Errrrr…” says Bohdi. He pats his pockets frantically. Scrambling to his feet he mutters. “Where is my lighter?” Did he leave it at the table?
As he walks over to the table, he hears Amy say quietly, “You gave us your oath, Thor.”
His lighter is with Amy’s phone guts. He picks it up, gives it a flick, and is rewarded with a small burst of flame. “Hey, it still works!” He tries to sound cheerful, because obviously, something weird, tense, and unhappy is going on. Someone has to be the glass half-full guy.
Thor rumbles. “What about you, Son of Patel… Do you wish to return to Earth?”
Surprised by the question, Bohdi takes a tiny step back. Is Thor serious? The giant hammer-toting alien is leaning forward slightly, his eyes on Bohdi. Bohdi blinks at his seeming earnestness. He considers the offer… Asgardian culture seems kind of shitty. However, there are lots of shitty places on Earth he wouldn’t mind going to. The Congo, North Korea, to name two—just to say he’d done it.
Flicking his lighter, Bohdi looks between the space Viking and his companion of the last few days. Thor looks extra large standing so close to Amy—or she looks extra small. She’s brave and smart and cute…but there are a lot of cute girls in the world. Or worlds…and it’s not like they’re a thing…
Thor’s armor is blackened by soot—but it’s still impressive, in its video game, cool way. To go to a whole new world—with cool armor, weapons, and tech…without creatures trying to eat him at every turn.
Amy sucks in a breath. Bohdi meets her eyes. She looks afraid. More afraid than when they’d been chased by spiders, or a swarm of adze had been about to attack them. She could have left him with the spiders. Or let him drown. And he’s pretty sure she kissed him when they were on the log, trying to wish him better. Which is sweet. Even if it didn’t work. Or maybe only worked for a while.
He almost sighs. He’s so going to regret this. Clearing his throat, he says, “Ummm…if it’s all the same, I’d rather head back to Earth…”
Thor’s shoulders slump. “As you wish.”
Mouthing the words, “thank you,” Amy closes her eyes.
Bowing his head, Thor says, “We can be off at once.”
“No!” say Bohdi and Amy.
Lifting his big head, Thor blinks.
“I have a question to ask the Norns,” Bohdi says. He rolls his shoulders, and smiles. “I feel up to climbing the stairs.” He looks up at the dimming sky. “I’ll make it before it gets too dark.”
“You have a question for the Norns?” Thor asks sounding a bit incredulous.
Bohdi’s smile drops. “Errr…I thought they’d answer anyone’s questions in exchange for a task…”
Thor gives a hearty laugh. “Indeed they will, Son of Patel! And whatever task they ask of you, you can count on my aid.”
“And—” Amy starts to say, but Thor claps a hand on her shoulder so hard she almost falls over.
“And what, pray tell us, is your question? Do you seek a magical weapon? A map of the known worlds? The source of magic, perhaps?”
Bohdi shifts on his feet. Amy is rubbing her shoulder scowling at Thor.
“I uh, actually just want to find my parents,” Bohdi says.
“Your parents?” Thor says.
Bohdi shrugs. “I don’t remember anything before Loki—” He points a finger to his head, and gives a rueful smile. “Not even my real name.”
“Nothing…” says Thor. His shoulders slump and he looks like a kicked puppy.
Going to the table, Amy says, “Maybe you’d like some fruit for the climb?”
“Yeah,” says Bohdi, turning quickly away from Thor’s hurt. “That would be great.”
“You can take my flask,” says Thor, as Amy wraps up some food in Bohdi’s pink shirt.
“Thanks, man,” says Bohdi.
Thor beams, and presses it into Bohdi’s hand.
Since he has Thor’s attention, Bohdi asks, “So, if I don’t like the task the Norns give to me…do I have to do it?”
Frowning, Thor scratches his head. “Why would you come all this way and not accept the task?”
Bohdi shrugs.
Rubbing his chin, Thor looks up at the sky. “Aye, I suppose you could. But it might be unwise.”
For some reason, Thor’s words make Bohdi shiver.