Chapter 3

“...and then he ate most of the chocolates on the after dinner chocolate cart thingy,” Miss Lewis says. “I’m fairly certain that even in humans it would have been enough to cause theobromine poisoning. It would have put an English mastiff in the emergency room.”

It’s the kind of off-the-wall comment that Miss Lewis has occasionally made during her debriefing that reminds Steve there is a very clever mind buried beneath her youth and naivete.

“Theobromine?” says Steve.

“It’s an alkaloid found in chocolates.” Glancing up at the ceiling Amy says, “The wire mesh is on the ceiling, too. Why?”

“That, Miss Lewis, isn’t important.” Actually, it is the same wire mesh used for Promethean Spheres, and it’s very important. Steve’s tech guys have covered the ceiling, floor and walls of the conference room with it, hoping to keep apparitions of Loki out. In some places they’ve stretched the mesh tightly; in other places it hangs awkwardly. They ran out of staples toward the end and used duct tape. The tech guys think it’s great. Steve thinks it looks like he’s wandered into the den of a mad spider. He suggested he wear a tinfoil hat, too — no one seemed to find that funny.

He looks at the screen of the magic detector by his side. The mad spider Promethean web seems to be working. No sign of Loki in here, and they were reasonably sure he’d sent one of his ‘apparitions’ into the building with Miss Lewis this morning.

“Why don’t you tell us about the rest of the evening?” Steve says.

Amy looks back down at them. “He took me home. I asked him in the cab if he really got Thor to dress up as a woman to get his hammer back from the giant, and he said it was true! Loki even managed to convince Thor his magic wasn’t enough on its own to disguise them, so Thor put on a real dress and makeup!”

She grins.

Steve and Bryant stare at her.

Looking embarrassed, she says, “It’s funnier if you’ve seen Thor.” Looking down at the table she adds, “He’s big and has a beard.”

“Uh - huh,” says Bryant.

“Did he get the hammer back?” says Steve, smiling and trying to look interested in this part.

“Yes,” she says. “And then the cab dropped us off at home. He noticed you guys took his guitar.”

Bryant and Steve look at one another.

“Had to,” says Steve. “Evidence.”

“Did he seem upset?” Bryant asks.

“No,” says Amy looking between the two of them. “Are you going to give it back? I mean, it’s just a guitar, right?”

“We won’t give it back,” Bryant and Steve say in unison.

“Geez,” says Amy.

“You’re dismissed,” says Steve.

A few minutes later Bryant and Steve are walking down the hall.

“She belongs in a witness protection program,” Bryant says. “She’s obviously infatuated with him.”

Steve squeezes the styrofoam cup in his hand and it cracks with a pop. “I’ll give her that option,” says Steve.

“Don’t give her the option. Make her take that option,” says Bryant.

Steve’s jaw tenses. “I’ve got a conference call with Merryl,” is all he says. Stepping into his office, he nearly collides with two agents who are starting to put up Promethean wire.

“You guys can hold off on that for now,” Steve says.

Nodding at him, they exit the room, closing the door and leaving a rolled up bundle of wire. As they exit, Steve notices that the “magic detector” next to him has started to glow. He sits down at his desk and pretends to be absorbed in some paperwork.

He’s barely raised his pen when a familiar voice says, “You stole my guitar case and the money I owed Miss Lewis, Steven. I am very disappointed.”

Steve doesn’t even look up, just clicks the pen and starts signing some papers on his desk. “Yep.”

“Are you going to give it back to her?” says Loki, or the apparition of Loki, leaning over Steve’s desk.

“Nope,” says Steve.

“Tsk, tsk, and I thought one of the loveliest things about this country was its respect for property rights.”

Steve pushes back in his chair. Loki is wearing a dark gray suit with a mint green shirt. His hair is ginger again, and too long. He’s got an obnoxious smirk on his face.

Meeting the apparition’s gaze, Steve says, “I don’t think Miss Lewis would accept the repayment if she discovered you stole it from a drug lord and ignited a turf war.” They identified the white powder on the guitar case. It came from a den on the west side where over $100,000 in cash had disappeared — only a few grand of it actually had been in the case, so Loki’s got a wad hidden somewhere. The gang in charge of the den blames a rival gang, of course.

Loki smiles. “Brilliant, wasn’t it? I repay my debts and help rid your city of its criminals all at once.”

“Yes, it’s brilliant,” says Steve. “Two children have already been hit in the crossfire.” And this is why Steve really should insist that Amy Lewis go on the witness protection program. Anyone who incites this kind of chaos is bound to bring pain to everyone in their orbit.

The apparition lifts his head. For a moment his eyes go completely black, and he stares down at Steve with an emotion Steve can’t place.

“But I guess that wouldn’t bother you,” says Steve, looking back down at his papers.

His papers are suddenly rising up to his nose, and he hears carpet tear. Looking up he sees Loki tip the other side of the desk upwards. Steve tries to move, but the edge of his desk already has him trapped in his chair, and he’s flipping over, chair, desk and all. His head hits the thin carpeting on the floor and bounces, and the edge of the desk knocks the wind from him. He’s pinned. Loki springs over the tipped desk, a dark shadow silhouetted by fluorescent lights.

A hand, solid and real, grabs Steve’s collar. “I am not like your friend Odin!” Loki screams, so close Steve catches a whiff of peppermint and soap.

Steve’s hands go to Loki’s. But he’s already gone. Disappeared...Steve turns his head. The little magic detector is on the floor beside him and it is glowing brightly and beeping like mad. Grabbing the device, he pushes the desk off him and climbs unsteadily to his feet. The machine’s beeping slows and the light dims. He hears running footsteps outside his office. He feels a gust of air, like his door has just opened, but he doesn’t see it move.

And then all of a sudden Bryant bursts in. “What happened?”

“Block all the exits,” Steve says, knowing it’s too late. But he also feels better about not putting Miss Lewis on the witness protection program.

He’s following Bryant out of his office when he notices that the roll of Promethean wire mesh that had been sitting by his door is gone.

x  x  x  x

Love is a tease. When you first fall in love with a woman you think you will never be able to get enough of her, that your passion will never be sated. That is how Loki felt through the first early years of his marriage to Aggie. But of course, eventually the passion in their relationship did wane. It wasn’t as though Loki hadn’t been warned. Odin always said, “Show me the most beautiful woman in the nine realms and I will show you a man tired of fucking her.”

But the true inconvenience of love, Loki decides, is that even as passion wanes, love is still there. If anything, his love for Anganboða grows stronger over the years. Maybe it is from sharing books, and making jokes at Baldur’s expense. Or maybe it was her forgiveness when he wagered their house on a ‘sure thing’ and lost — though he promptly won their home back on a long shot. Afterwards he put their small hall in her name so that their short experience of homelessness didn’t happen again.

And even if the sex most of the time is by rote, there are times when after a lull the fires are stoked again, and it is better than anything Loki has experienced with anyone else.

Loki knows that tonight will be one of those times. He is standing on the boat Skidbladnir afloat on the seas of Asgard with Odin, Frigga, Baldur and Thor. With them is Frey, leader of the Vanir, his sister Freyja, guards, and ladies of the court of Vanaheim.

Anganboða is also there, playing maid to Frigga. Anganboða is no maid, but one of Frigga’s ladies was sick. Though Anganboða is married to Loki, she isn’t considered truly a woman; she has borne no children — and not by lack of trying. The court blames Aggie — it is always the woman’s fault. But Loki knows it is him, that’s why Odin doesn’t like him mucking about with Hoenir isn’t it? Loki makes life go wrong.

Right now Loki is not at fault though, even though people on the boat are screaming. The ladies are to one side, being ‘guarded’ by Baldur and a few other cowards. Thor, Odin, Freyja and Frey stand at the other side with Loki and Aggie. Freyja has her sword ready, Thor has Mjolnir in his hands. But Odin only looks bemused; Loki knows there is nothing to fear.

Typically, lost in her own world, Anganboða did not hear the cry from Baldur for all the ladies to retreat to his side of the boat. Or maybe she did and chose to ignore him. Either way, her calm, the wonder on her face, her heedlessness to the crown prince; they are all making Loki remember what he first saw in her.

The water next to the boat swirls and a serpentine body, nearly as wide as the boat itself, with dark green scales rises up, a blue fish-like-fin at its top.

“It rises again,” says Freyja, as the body and the fin disappear beneath the waves.

“It is Jörmungandr, the world serpent,” says Aggie breathlessly, and Loki recognizes the fins and the scales from a book they borrowed from Hoenir just recently.

Not looking at her, Odin says, “Yes. We are in no danger.” If there was a slight bit of tension between Loki’s shoulders, it disappears instantly. Jörmungandr patrols the seas around Asgard, and is a servant of Odin as much as he; but neither Freyja nor Thor put down their weapons.

The fin and body disappear and there is a collective sigh from the boat, but then out of the water shoots an enormous head, as wide as the boat, as tall as a man. The boat rocks and people scream. The serpent has a huge maw, with glistening sharp teeth. But what is truly startling to look upon is its forehead. It is high and flat, directly above its jaws — almost hominid. Its eyes are to the side and small, where its gaze falls is difficult to tell. Magic hangs in the air around it, thick and as green as the dark seaweed in its teeth.

From its mouth comes a voice like the roll of thunder. “All Father,” it says. “And I see you, Thor...is that the lovely Freyja...and Loki?”

“Begone, beast!” shouts Thor.

Jörmungandr huffs. “So rude is your son, Odin. But who have we here?”

The beast lowers its head so that its bottom jaw is level with Aggie’s face, long whiskers that sprout from its chin coiling at her feet. Loki’s heart stops. But he is not so foolish as to show anger or fear. “My wife Anganboða, Sea Thread.”

“Pleased to meet you,” says Aggie, holding up a hand as though to touch its face but catching herself.

The boat creaks and rises a little, and then Jörmungander rubs his mighty whiskered chin against Aggie’s hand. There are intakes of breath from across the ship. To Loki’s immense bemusement, Aggie just laughs with delight even as Baldur shouts, “Leave her alone, foul serpent!”

Loki is sure to aim a self-satisfied smile in Baldur’s direction and lay a possessive hand on Aggie’s hip.

“Pleased to meet you, little mother,” says Jörmungander. Mother is something one would call any wife in Asgard. Of course Aggie isn’t a mother. But Jörmungander’s words are heard by all present, and before Aggie has borne a child, she becomes ‘Mother of Monsters.’

After several decades, Aggie does, eventually get pregnant. Loki is frantic and wonders if he should go on some sort of quest with Thor for the duration to be on the safe side. But times are distressingly calm, and he remains in Asgard.

Aggie goes into labor on a day when Loki is helping Odin craft new terms for World Gate access for the dwarves. The dwarves have ‘kindly’ acquiesced to withdraw from Midgard — under threat of war. Odin’s never fully explained to Loki why the withdrawal was decreed, only that it was so that ‘Midgard be for humans.’ Now it is done, and Odin is seeking to soothe short trading partners.

Loki doesn’t leave Odin’s side when he hears news that labor has begun. It just isn’t done by men. He sends apparitions of himself to wait outside the delivery room. He doesn’t go into the room, even in astral form. It just isn’t done. Beside the door also waits Fenrir, a giant wolf that followed Loki home from Jotunheim one day — Aggie took a fancy to the beast. In the court they whisper Fenrir is another one of Aggie’s ‘children.’

Loki has been dismissed by Odin and is walking home very quickly when Aggie begins to scream. He breaks into a jog. Before he even reaches his home, Aggie has quieted, and there is the wail of a babe and Loki is running. He is just entering the front door when Aggie begins to scream again. This time there are words. “What are you doing? Give me my baby! Let me see! Let me see!” and then frantically, “Loki!”

By the door to the bedroom, Fenrir starts to whimper. A midwife passes through Loki’s apparition shaking her head, a wailing bundle covered in a sheet. She runs into the real Loki and drops the bundle with a scream.

Catching the wailing, writhing, tiny form flailing against the cloth, Loki shouts, “What are you doing?”

“It’s for the best,” says the midwife. “I’ll take care of it for you...”

“Take care of it?” says Loki, yelling to be heard above the wailing. But as the words spill from his mouth, he knows. The midwife means to kill the child, his child, the one whose lungs are exploding with ear-splitting effect. The one she’s already draped in a funeral shroud.

“Get out!” Loki screams. Beside him Fenrir begins to growl. The woman’s face goes white and she runs.

Frantically, Loki casts the sheet aside and looks down. The wailing ceases as though by enchantment, and the babe no longer struggles, just gasps air hard and fast. It...she...has limbs that seem bent at erratic angles, too thin, too spindly, and he knows somehow they are wrong. But he can hardly look at that, because what he sees first and foremost is his baby’s skin. On one side she is pale, jotunn, with a gray eye like Loki’s. On the other side she is blue, like the horizon of the Midgard sky on a cloudless day, and her eye on that side is completely black, like he is staring at the infinity of the void. Though she is only a few minutes old, the air around her is thick with magic of the same blue. Her magic is so strong where Loki’s skin touches her, his own fingers turn that same color.

He does not know how a creature like himself could be part of a creation so beautiful.

x  x  x  x

Valli and Nari weren’t as magical as Helen. But Loki loved them, too. And he lost them all. There is something about losing a child; it seems to tear against the order of the universe. Maybe that’s why it keeps happening to him.

His apparition, standing across the street from the dilapidated house where he stole the drug money, grits his teeth. There are men coming and going, and women he’d recognize as whores in any realm.

He feels sick to his stomach and he wants to set the whole building on fire. Maybe that will end the ‘turf war’ he’s started. He looks down. Or make it worse. Nothing he plans works out quite the way he intends.

He hears gunfire in the dilapidated house and lets his projection fade.

He blinks and his physical form takes a sip of coffee in the small cafe near Amy’s apartment. Since the neighborhood is Little Italy, he’s taken the disguise of an elderly Italian grandmother type for the occasion — though beneath the disguise he wears his armor and his sword Lævatein is at his hip.

Amy was right. ADUO will confiscate anything he gives to her. Nor, he suspects, would she want the money if she knew where it came from.

Red mist curls around his feet.

“Why must you repay her?” Cera says. Loki just scowls. Because he knows the danger of lies, how one can lose track of what is truth...that is why he always, always, keeps his oaths. But he says to Cera, “She gives me access to ADUO, and to you.”

“You are wise!” says Cera, and she slips into the air and away.

Loki lifts his head. Where is Miss Lewis? He sends an apparition to her home, just a few blocks away.

It is dusk, and the TV at the front of Amy’s apartment is on, but Amy is in the kitchen by the back door. She is dressed in black. Giving a hasty pat on the head to Fenrir, the girl takes a deep breath and then darts outside. She runs through the tiny backyard and slips quietly through a back gate, looking quickly from side to side as she does so — as though she’s trying to run away from someone.

Loki tilts his head. She is running away from someone, the agents who are charged with observing her. How curious. Ignoring the stares he stands a little too quickly for an old woman, walks to a nearby alley, and then down another, and lets himself fade into invisibility.

In his invisible form he slips behind Amy just as she pokes her head around the corner of a house.

“Coast is clear,” she mutters.

“Actually,” says Loki, not bothering to make himself visible, “there is an agent in that car just to the right, though you can’t see him at the moment.”

Amy jumps around with a yelp and narrows her eyes in not-quite Loki’s direction.

“Oh, there he is,” says Loki as the agent’s head pops up into view. “He must have dropped something.”

Putting her hands on her hips, she says, “Well?”

He tilts his head. Have they told her about the money and its source? It would be the sort of thing she’d upbraid him for. And she might take Bryant up on the ‘witness relocation program’ offer Loki’s apparitions have heard about.

She’s staring at a point just below his collarbone, which is disconcerting. He lets himself become visible again. “Well, what?” he snaps, prepared for the worst.

Bouncing a little on her feet she says, “Are you going to help?”

She doesn’t know about the drug money. He actually feels relieved.

Waving an arm, she snaps him from his reverie. “Make me invisible!

And suddenly, everything is a fun game. He smiles and taps his chin. “Why should I help you escape from your masters? Were you another girl I would suspect a tryst with a lover you wished to keep hidden, but since it’s you —”

She holds up a small beige device that has a faintly glowing face at the end of a handle. “So I can get to the micro lab at UIC’s med school in the next ten minutes and put the glowy-organic looking stuff inside this thing under a scope.”

Loki draws back. He’s seen these devices at ADUO but he hadn’t divined their purpose. “Humans can’t detect magic,” he says.

Scowling a little, Amy says, “Really?” She pushes it closer to Loki and it glows brighter. She smiles. “I think we can.”

Loki stares at the glow. They’re using Vanir technology to restrain magic — he’s investigated the wire mesh they used to attempt to contain Cera, and it is definitely Vanir in origin. In attempting to escape from it, Cera had panicked and fused part of herself with the mesh, ironically, making it physically stronger and more difficult to get her out.

Of course, to contain magic you have to know it’s there. Loki is suddenly very curious about this little device. Smiling, he puts a hand on her arm and lets invisibility fall over them like a shroud. “Let’s go,” he says.

x  x  x  x

The stairway of the main building of the University of Illinois Chicago’s Medical School is dark and too hot. A heater is clicking. It smells like burnt dust.

Loki’s arm is on hers. He held her arm the same way last time he made her invisible, when they slipped by the ADUO agents to get to the restaurant.

Amy’s grateful for his arm. You don’t realize how much you see of yourself until you can't see yourself. Glimpses of hands and feet, breasts, and the tip of her nose are little signals to her brain that she exists. Without them, it is disorientating.

Amy bites her lip. “I think you can make us visible now.”

She doesn’t feel anything, but she blinks and the tip of her nose comes into focus — or unfocus, rather. She sighs with relief.

“Come on,” she says, pulling Loki toward an elevator bank. They pass some med students on the way. They don’t even glance at Loki and Amy. Amy swallows. She misses veterinary school. She knows her job with ADUO is only for a year, but sometimes she feels like everything she learned is slipping away. That her brain is turning to mush. She is so bored, except for present company. She squeezes Loki’s arm.

She catches herself as they step into the elevator. Dropping his arm, she smiles up at him apologetically. Loki is focused on the numbers above the door and doesn’t seem to notice. He was ‘wearing’ a suit when he first popped up behind her this evening, but now he’s wearing jeans, a gray V-neck tee shirt, and sneakers. She blinks — exactly what one of the med students had been wearing. As if aware of her gaze, he turns to her and smirks.

She rolls her eyes.

The elevator stops at the Microbiology Department and they step out. There is a long white hallway with locked lab doors on either side. Loki peeks into the windows of one of the doors.

“Microscopes!” he says. Looking pleased, he turns to her. “Your people put a lot of effort into educating your healers.”

Amy peers into the little window and sees lab tables lined with scopes. Nothing special. “I guess.”

“Hoenir had the only microscope in Asgard. You have dozens here!”

“Yeah, ummm....and we have them in some elementary schools, most junior highs and almost every high school, too,” says Amy.

Loki turns his head to her, his eyes wide. “So much general access to the magics of your world,” he says.

It takes a moment for Amy to process that. School was always an escape for her, a place away from her mother and her revolving door of husbands and boyfriends. Someplace where there was stability and order. Math and science were her favorite subjects because they were so much less subjective than history and literature. In particular she loved biology because of its connection with living things. Her veterinary school education had taken her deeper into microbiology and histology, and she found she loved those subjects, too — even though the critters didn’t come with cute furry tails and whiskers. Life, on whatever scale, is fascinating to her.

She stares at Loki. “I have a feeling I’d hate Asgard.”

Loki draws up and tilts his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.

At that moment a familiar voice booms from down the hall. “Amy! It’s great to see you!”

Amy turns and smiles. It’s her friend James from her undergrad days. Amy has been called an “over achiever” in her life, but James puts her to shame. Just a few years older than her, he’s just finished his Ph.D. in microbiology and has a bachelor's in computer science. He’s healthy, tall, handsome...and married. Her eye catches at the flash of his ring. In typical perfectionist fashion, he’s managed to find a wife who is a beautiful, brilliant neuroscientist.

Laughing, James slaps a hand on her shoulder, nearly knocking her over. “Great to see you here. Katherine and I were so sorry you couldn’t make the wedding.”

“Yes, well...” she says.

He turns his eyes to Loki. “And who have we here?”

Before Amy can answer, Loki holds out his hand and smiles. “Loki.” There’s something a little bit challenging in his tone.

If there is a challenge there, James doesn’t see it. He takes Loki’s hand and pumps vigorously. “Ha, ha, ha! Your parents are mythology buffs! Mine are literature buffs! I was a coin toss away from being named Rudyard after Kipling. Are you studying veterinary medicine, too?”

Loki tilts his head. “No, my area of interest is...physics.”

Amy winces. Oh, no, he’s going to talk about physics with James.

Dropping his hand, James beams and gives a covert wink at Amy. “Really, my brother is a physicist working for NASA. Where did you go to school? What is your specialty?”

“I went to Oxford,” Loki says, chin high, and sounding far too pleased with himself. Amy winces again. Of all the schools...

“I went to Oxford on a Rhodes scholarship,” says James, happily leading them down the hall to his lab. “Who did you do your thesis with?”

Amy bites her lip, but Loki is saved from having to answer by a young man walking up to James, book in hand. “Dr. Swanson, I really don’t know why I need to know what bacteria survives in space to become a surgeon!”

For the first time, James’ smile drops. Amy hears him mutter, “Med students.” Turning back to Amy and Loki, he says, “I have to get to my lecture. Amy, you know where to go.”

Amy and Loki watch as he starts back the way they came, the med student next to him, saying something Amy can’t make out.

“You know, Amy,” Loki says quietly, “I never thought I’d see the disadvantage in the ease of modern Midgardian air travel.”

At that moment James turns around and calls down the hall. “Remember, in return for this favor, you’re going to tell me where you got that feather!”

Loki looks sideways at Amy, a glint in his eye.

With a gulp, Amy runs into James’ lab and hustles over to a counter with a microscope hooked up to a television monitor.

Loki follows and shuts the door behind them. With a too knowing grin on his face, he says, “Feather?”

Putting the ‘magic detector’ on the lab counter, Amy doesn’t meet his eyes. “I may have sent James a picture of a hadrosaur feather. He might have a slight interest in dinosaurs, a slight familiarity with comparative anatomy and avian and reptilian histology, and a general burning curiosity...and might have recognized it as being not quite feather like, but definitely not scale like.”

She swallows. She was on strict orders from ADUO not to talk of her trip to Alfheim, or about Loki, to anyone. Technically she didn’t talk about anything, though. She just sent a picture.

“Mmmmm-hmmm,” says Loki, walking over to join her, the magic detector glowing brighter as he does. She takes a nail file out of her purse. There is a seam in the plastic that runs along the side of the detection device. If she runs the nail file through it, she can loosen the outer casing and open it. She’s already done it once at her desk when she was being ignored...as usual. Swallowing again, she looks up at Loki.

Biting her lip nervously she says, “Ummm...so I’m really not supposed to be doing this. This little thing is supposedly worth 30 grand and it doesn’t even have the fancy gadgets and meters on it. It’s one of the prototypes.”

Bending close, Loki whispers, “I won’t tell.”

Amy lets out a breath and relaxes a little — but not too much. Loki is really close, leaning over her shoulder and making her nervous...or something. Running the file along the seam she says, “Bryant just gave it to me because he said I had a right to know if you were spying on me while I was in the shower or dressing.”

Pulling the nail file out of the seam she blushes. “Of course, I know you’d never do that.”

Loki says nothing, but he draws back a step. Amy hazards a glance at him.

One eyebrow cocked, Loki purses his lips. “You know, Amy, sometimes I think you’re very clever.”

Smiling, she turns back to the gadget in her hands.

“Other times,” says Loki, “I think that you are just a child with breasts.”

Amy scowls, then shakes her head. “Ha, ha, ha. Very funny.”

He sighs, but she’s not really paying attention. The device is coming apart. Other detectors may have fancy electronics and gizmos inside, but this one is surprisingly low tech. There are just two glass plates in the top above the handle; sandwiched between them is what looks like agar. On it is a light blue substance covering the plates in an irregular pattern. Well, it is light blue most of the time. Now with Loki around it’s glowing and almost white.

Loki steps close again.

Holding the plates up to the light she says. “See that, it looks organic. Now to grab a sample...”

As she preps a slide, Loki leans in so close his nose is inches away from the mystery substance. The plate flashes brightly, and he pulls back.

Amy grabs a Q Tip, swipes a bit of the mystery substance off a plate, dips the Q Tip onto the slide she’s prepped, and puts on the cover. Slipping the slide beneath the scope, Amy peers into the lenses and focuses. And then she backs away from the slide and puts her hand to her mouth.

Loki looks over to her, his eyes slightly wide. “What is it?”

Shaking her head, Amy stares at the long thin bacteria on the screen. They look like blades of pale blue-colored grass with striations crossing them horizontally. “I thought it would be something exotic — that’s why I wanted the monitor, so I could take pictures...”

She thought she might have to spend hours trying to find a near relative.

She bites her lip. “But this is so obviously Cyanobacteria. What species I have no idea, but definitely Cyanobacteria.”

“Cyanobacteria,” says Loki slowly. “Does it have another common name?”

“It’s most commonly known as algae...blue green algae,” Amy says.

Loki blinks. “Little organisms that float on water?”

“Yes,” says Amy. “They feed on sunlight.”

“These don’t feed on sunlight,” says Loki looking down at the glass plate. “They feed on magic. Light is their waste product.”

Amy’s eyes go wide. “Like midichlorians! Like in Star Wars! ”

Loki turns to her and blinks. “What are midichlorians? And what do these little organisms have to do with your country’s space defense system?”

She didn’t make him watch Star Wars! She’ll have to remedy that later. But now she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, incredibly excited. “You’ve got little organelles in your body that feed on magic and they allow you to convert it into energy!”

Loki scowls. Then he snickers. “A fine hypothesis, but no. Not right. Trust me, I don’t shit light.” He snickers. “Or fart rainbows.”

At that he doubles over laughing and has to sit down on a chair. “Though my wives would have preferred it if I did!”

Amy stares at him. What is with men and potty humor?

Getting annoyed, Amy puts her hands on her hips. “So how do you use magic? And why can’t I?”

Loki straightens and wipes his eyes. “Oh, because you lack the proper neural tissue in adequate quantities. It’s called...it’s called...”

He looks away. “Well, you don’t have a name for it...I suppose that makes sense. You might not have discovered it since you have so little of it.” Turning, he gives her a look that is almost sympathetic. “Your species is retarded.”

Deciding to let that insult drop in the interest of science, Amy takes a step closer to him. “Where is it? In the frontal cortex? In the brainstem? Maybe in the subventricular zone?”

Loki stares at her. “In my species it is everywhere there is neural tissue.”

“Is it part of white matter?” says Amy. “Gray matter?”

His mouth drops a little, and then he shrugs. “I don’t really know. Biology isn’t my thing.” The side of his mouth quirks up. “I never did get into the soft sciences.”

Amy’s eyes go wide. She wants to say something biting about maybe if he knew a little more about biology he might be able to heal things instead of just blowing things up. But something tells her that would go badly. Instead, she just stands glaring at him, nearly blind with rage.

Seemingly oblivious to the violence in her glare, Loki wanders over to the plate again. “But these little critters — they do eat magic. They’re from Vanaheim. I’ve heard of them, though I’ve never actually seen them...”

There is a flash of light from the plate, and Loki takes a deep, strangled breath. Amy looks over with alarm. He’s trembling.

“Loki?” she says, moving quickly to his side. He starts to fall backwards and Amy whips a lab stool around for him to sit on.

He falls onto it, his weight pushing it back and its feet scraping the floor.

“Loki?” Amy says again. But he’s staring into space seemingly oblivious. And then his pupils blow out wide until there is no color at all in his irises. The skin around his eyes and his fingers starts to turn blue — and then the blue spreads across his face, and up his arms, like a wave rolling over sand. Where the blue meets his hairline, his hair begins to turn black; where it meets his clothing, the t-shirt and jeans turn to his armor. He’s actually wearing his sword. Some pieces of the plating on his left arm seem to be missing and she can see his limbs are turning blue, too.

He stares ahead. Perfectly still. And Amy catches her breath. He just looks so...magical.

x  x  x  x

He is with a man and a woman, young, familiar and unfamiliar. They are by a river, beneath the stars; and from the constellations Loki knows they are in Vanaheim. The man turns to Loki and says, “No ale shall pour, unless it is brought to us both.” They have no torches, and no fire, but it doesn’t matter because the slow water of the river is glowing.

And it would be mesmerizing if the woman weren’t more so. She is, he supposes, beautiful. But there is more to it than that. The softness of her form is an oasis Loki wants to dive into. Her eyes are soft, too, as soft as her magic, pale and gold — but abundant, full, and generous. As generous as her lips that are spilling into a smile. She turns, goes to the river, and brings back three crystal goblets full of the shining water. In her hands the water in the goblets swirls as bright as the sun. She passes one cup to Loki and one to the other man. “In lieu of ale,” the water fetcher says.

He is almost afraid to take the goblet for fear the light will dissipate. But the light only grows brighter as he tilts it to his lips...almost bright enough to burn through the dark velvet magic that swirls around the other man, his eyes piercing, his face smiling, his own goblet a star in a dark night.

x  x  x  x

A hand touches his cheek. The woman with the pale gold magic ...

“Loki?”

Loki blinks, and Amy pulls her hand away as though she’s been burned.

“What happened?” she whispers, her brows drawn together.

His jaw tenses. He’s hallucinating now? As the Midgardians say, oh fuck.

He rubs his face with his hands. “I think I’m just hungry.” Although he actually doesn’t feel particularly hungry. He doesn’t have that horrible gnawing feeling in his stomach at the moment. And his head is clear.

He meets Amy’s eyes and smiles.

Her brow relaxes, her lips turn up, and her chest heaves as she takes a breath. “You should have said something! We’re right by Little Italy. We can find a place where you can eat enough for an army.”

She’s wearing the most atrocious heavy black sweater that makes her look boxy and fat. But still, his memory can supply the details of the outline of her breasts, the narrow curve of her waist, the gentle slope on her side as her belly flows to her hips. He feels a buzz underneath his skin and his body goes hot; it’s almost a shock. He’s felt so dead for so long, and now, suddenly for no reason he can quite account for, he is, in the local vernacular, extremely turned on.

He stares at Amy and remembers her blushing at the restaurant when she thought he was praising her. It would be so terribly easy...

“Loki,” she says, holding out a hand toward his face.

Catching it in his own hand, he kisses her palm.

She gasps and takes a heavy breath. He looks up at her. Her lips are wet and parted, and she brings her other hand up toward his temple but doesn’t touch him. The look in her eyes is as though she is under some sort of spell. It’s been too long since anyone has looked at him like that.

With a gentle exhale of breath, she puts her hand to his temple and whispers almost reverently, “You’re blue.”

Loki goes cold. For the first time, he notices the hand holding hers. Why didn’t he see it from the first? He is as blue as...as...Helen. But he isn’t blue; why is this happening?

Dropping her hand he closes his eyes, concentrates, and lets his skin wash back to its normal color. He makes the Midgardian clothing reappear, too.

“Better?” he whispers.

Tilting her head, Amy, says, “You know, if you’re naturally blue, because you know, you’re an alien — it’s okay. I don’t mind, it’s kind of —”

Wrapping his hand around the hilt of Lævatein he clenches his teeth. “I’m not blue!”

She jumps back.

Closing his eyes, he says, “I’m sorry. I’m...I’m just hungry.” And it’s true now.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll just clean up. I mean, you can go if you want...”

He takes a deep breath and tries to look benign. “Actually, I would prefer your company. I get rather bored eating alone all the time.” And that is also true.

“Oh, okay,” she says. “Just a minute.”

He smiles as kindly as he can and walks to the corner of the lab and stares at the window. It’s dark now, and he sees little beyond his own reflection. His ginger hair is back, his eyes are light blue.

Cera swirls around him. “What happened? I thought you’d left...Did you learn anything?”

“Dah,” he mutters under his breath.

Humans have access to Vanir magical devices and have adapted Vanir species to their own technology. But how?

He narrows his eyes at the mist. The Vanir are after the World Seed.