“I hesitate to think about how horrible it must have been inside those walls. To be at his mercy. Sigyn must have had nerves of steel.”
—God of Lies Revealed
The sun was up by the time I woke, curled up in bed. Loki’s whole body was tucked so tightly against mine that I didn’t dare move. My hair tickled the back of my neck as his breath grazed my skin, his chin snuggled into my shoulder.
“Good morning,” he whispered against my skin, his arm tightening around my waist.
“I thought you were asleep.” I turned to face him, resting my hand on the sharp angle of his bare hip.
“I didn’t want to wake you. You snore.”
I covered my face with my hand, blushing. “I do not.”
“You do, just a little. It’s adorable.” He reached up and pushed a stray lock of hair back from my face. “I like waking up next to you.”
A thought was bubbling up in me, one I’d had again and again. And it was so hasty, but it was overwhelming. So I just said it. “Then don’t go back to Valaskjálf.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Do you mean that?”
“I want to keep doing this.” I ran my palm across his chest. “Waking up together, cooking together, coming home to you. I don’t want to go back to living here alone, only seeing you sometimes. I don’t think I could stand it.”
A thin, cautious smile found its way to his lips. His fingers traced the curve of my shoulder. “If you’re sure.”
I took his face in my hands, pulling him down for a long, reassuring kiss.
When we parted, he pressed his forehead against mine. “Well, what can I do but say yes?”
I walked my fingers down his bare chest, biting my bottom lip. He drew in a breath as my hand reached his stomach, his mind clearly already lost on delicious pursuits. “You can say you’ll help me.”
He grabbed me and flipped me onto my back, kneeling over me. His sleep-tangled hair fell around our faces, his lips hovering just above mine. “Oh, I can help you,” he growled.
“I need to break into the archives.”
The confusion on his face was priceless. “I’m sorry, come again?”
“Later.” I wiggled out from under him. “First, there’s something I need.”
Loki fell onto his side, still bewildered—and clearly disappointed—at the change of pace. “Well, it’s not as if they charge admission.”
The pitiful look on his face coaxed a hint of guilt from me. I took a section of his hair and began to work at the tangles with my fingers. “I want access to the rare texts, and they still keep them under lock and key.”
“Wouldn’t Hod just let you in? He trusts you.”
“Odin only gives permission to a small list of people, and you’ll be absolutely shocked to know I’m not one of them.”
He peered at me. “Sigyn Odindottir wants to do something against the rules. If you’re not careful, you’re going to make it into a habit.”
“I want another chance at my title.” My fingers nimbly braided a section of his combed hair and moved on to the next. “I don’t want to give up on it, and maybe something in that room can give me the edge I need.”
“Aren’t I the edge you needed?” He chuckled and pulled me against him, prying the half-finished braid from my hands. “You don’t need a title to be worth something.”
The words bruised me. I turned away. “I don’t know what I am without all this. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, and if I spent all those decades working toward it for nothing…How do I just give up on it?”
His palm found my cheek and gave me no choice but to look at him. “It’s not for nothing. No one can take that experience from you. All the things you learned, the power you have. That’s yours.”
The familiar bitterness rose in my chest, willing itself to the surface. I stared him in the eyes as it poured off my tongue like poison. “That’s easy for you to say. You have yours.”
He withdrew his hand, like I’d burned him. “Are you jealous of my title? God of Lies? Because that would be a very stupid thing to be jealous of. You don’t know what it took to get it, and you don’t want to.”
I sat back, unable to look him in the eyes. “Could it really be any worse than what I’ve done?”
“Sigyn. There’s always worse. Always.”
When I dared to look up, his eyes were glistening. A knot twisted in my stomach, and I pushed back the bitterness, reaching a hand out to him. “I’m sorry. You can tell me.”
He sat up, elbows on his knees, picking the skin from around his nails. “Everything comes at a price with Odin. He took me in, made me feel like I owed him for it. Taught me how to spy for him, bring back the information he wanted. Before I knew it, I was sneaking into rooms, stealing things, flirting with important people, killing. Sometimes he needed someone to change their mind, so he sent me. I could change shape, become whatever would appeal to them. Get the job done. Whatever it took.”
I knew what he was alluding to and I wished I didn’t. “Loki, that can’t be true.”
“It is. I’ve taken emissaries and councillors and princesses to bed and changed their minds with the flick of a tongue or at the point of a knife. Whatever Odin needed.”
“He sold your body for favours?”
He reached out and took my hand. “Odin will never stop taking. Do you think you’re the only person he’s used at the price of a title? Do you think I am? What price do you think the rest of the gods paid?”
I hardly knew what to say. How long had I been blind to it? How many things had I done for him in the last half a century, hoping it would be enough? “But you got your title. How?”
He laughed, bitter. “He exiled me and gave it to me as he pushed me out the door. It didn’t come with a council seat or any of the perks. Just a dagger in my back that I can’t dig out.”
I sighed, deflated. “I’m sorry.”
He pulled my hand, bringing us both back down to the mattress. I tucked myself against his side, my palms on his chest, and he buried his face in my hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
We laid in silence for a long while, my head pressed against his skin, his heartbeat in my ear.
“I’ll help you.” He tucked his finger beneath my chin and tilted my head, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “You deserve a title, and if this is the thing that gets you there, who am I to say no? But Sig…he can burn your life to cinders.”
“Let him try. I won’t let him ruin this. One last try, and then it’s finished.”
Half a smirk appeared on his lips. “You never give up. I love that about you.” He rolled over suddenly, playfully pinning me beneath him. I squeaked, laughing at his change of mood. He dipped his head for a longer kiss, and I melted under his touch. He spoke against my lips. “But we have a whole day before sundown. How will we ever keep busy?”
◦ ● ◦
Most of Asgard was asleep by the time we arrived at the doors of the archives. This was by design, naturally. Hod and Eyvindr would need to be fast asleep. Both of their living quarters were in the archives themselves, and we needed to get in and out without being seen.
It wasn’t as if the building was locked up tightly; we were probably the only ones in the nine realms eager to break into a place where they kept books. All it had taken was a small boost through an open window leading to a storage room, and we were inside.
Excitement mingled with fear inside my chest, both fighting for dominance. I’d never broken into anything before, and despite recent events, I still wasn’t used to breaking the rules. Not that Odin had explicitly forbidden me to go in there. He just hadn’t given me permission.
The main hall of the archives was low-lit, most of the seidr lanterns having faded over the course of the day. We padded down the room, weaving our way between the stacks until we came to the back of the building, where the private quarters were located. It was an effort to make no noise at all; my mouth was dry, and my heart skipped every time my shoes made the slightest scuff.
We stopped outside Hod’s door. Loki slowly turned the handle, but nothing happened. He’d promised me that he could get the key but hadn’t explained how. Now that we were here, he put a finger to his lips and motioned for me to stay put. In the dim light, I couldn’t make out the runes he whispered. Eventually, the air around him shifted, blurring before my eyes until I was forced to shield them. When I turned back, he was gone.
I looked over my shoulder. He wasn’t behind me either. He had shapeshifted of course, but into what? Something buzzed next to my ear, and I nearly raised my hand to swat at it.
Oh.
I squinted until I could follow the path of the fly in the dim light. It swooped down and landed on the handle of the door, then skittered down around the knob and into the keyhole. Curious, I knelt down and peered inside. There was nothing blocking the way, and other than a beam of moonlight, the room was black. Then the shape of a man stepped into view, skirting around the room.
That sneaky fox. It had always driven Freya mad, not knowing how he’d gotten into her room in the first place. What a handy, devious trick.
I backed away from the door, keeping watch around the corner. The archives were always quiet, but now, every second of silence was full of that guilty anticipation of being caught. Of having to explain myself and watch the disappointed look in everyone’s eyes. The moments crawled by, every second timed with a dozen thumps of my heart. How long could it take him to find a key?
The smallest click came from behind me. The door slid open. Loki crept out and closed it gently behind him. Clasped tightly in his other hand was a ring of keys. He came to me and showed them off, but the panic under my skin was too loud for me to be impressed. He cocked his head at my lack of enthusiasm, so I pressed his empty hand against my chest, so he could feel the drumming.
He leaned in to whisper. “You are brave and bold and beautiful.” He nipped at my ear, distracting me, and for just a moment, the thrill drowned out my fear.
He took my hand, and we tiptoed to the gated section of books. Loki examined the lock and chose a key that seemed to match. After the third attempt, the lock clicked. The gate creaked open, setting me on edge again. They would’ve heard that. I stood still, eyes darting in all directions, trying desperately to see our inevitable captors.
“Sig, hey.” Loki grabbed my shoulders, staring me down. “If you don’t calm down, you’re going to knock into something and really get us caught.”
I drew a breath. I could do this. I could be a petty thief.
We left the gate ajar and stepped into the tiny room. Loki took one side, and I took the other, skimming the spines of the books with my fingers. The ones closest to the front were dull, most of them private journals of important figures from around the realms. There wouldn’t be anything tempting where the common eye could see it. The real goodies would be in the back.
The process was a long one. Over and over, I picked up a book based on its title and skimmed its contents only to decide it wasn’t anything special. Lists of poisons and curses, risky imbalances of nature like raising the bodies of the dead. Nothing I needed or wanted. Loki passed me books he thought were worth considering, but none of them felt right.
I stopped to stretch and yawn, wondering how long we’d been inside. When I turned to him, Loki was skimming through a ratty old book, eyes wide. There was the slightest tremble in his hands.
He noticed me looking and cool composure slid over him.
“What’s that?” I whispered.
“Some old stories about the realms. Nothing special.” He cleared his throat.
“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I’m not lying.”
“Loki.”
“Fine,” he hissed. He took a deep breath, pushing down whatever anger I’d stirred up. “It… there’s something about my mother.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. “What does it say?”
He closed the book and ran his hand over the cover. “I’m not sure. I didn’t read much, but there was a picture.”
“Oh, Loki.” I took his hand. “Can I see it?”
“I—” His grip tightened on the book. There were tears in his eyes. “I’d rather not. It’s just… I just found it. I’d like to keep it to myself for a little while.”
“Of course.” I took the book from his white-knuckled grip and slid it into the bag over his shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”
He gave me a weak smile and straightened his shoulders. “Have you found something?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. Let’s keep looking.” I knelt down next to him, looking over the shelf near his feet.
He was quiet for a moment. “What do you know about Ragnarok?”
“The same as everyone else. Why?”
Loki bent to look at the shelf above my head. “Let’s call it a distraction.”
I sighed and gave in, careful to keep my voice low. “I know what everyone knows. First comes the Fimbulwinter, three endless winters that will have the people of Midgard killing each other to survive. The enemies of Asgard will march on us, and Heimdall will blow the horn that calls the gods to battle. And we’ll die. Every single one of us.”
Loki huffed. “You take all the joy out of storytelling.”
“Fine.” I stood to get a better look at the top row, reciting the prophecy the way it had been told to me. “Thor will fight an enormous serpent, bigger than anything the realms have ever seen. He’ll slay it but die from its poison. Odin will fight a wolf so large it makes the realms tremble with its step. The wolf will eat him alive. Frey will be killed by the fire giant Surtr. Everyone else goes unnamed in the prophecy. Is that detailed enough for you?”
“Seems odd they haven’t learned anything new since I was away, that’s all.” Loki passed me a book about increasing the growing speed of plants, and I quickly dismissed it.
I made a face at him. “I don’t think that’s how prophecies work. They don’t evolve over time.”
“Maybe, maybe not. What about that?” He pointed over my shoulder.
The book was bound in red leather and detailed with inlaid gold. The spine read Intention.
It was incredibly heavy for its size. I flipped it open and whispered the introduction. “The contents of this book are delicate. If you’re reading this, then you are one of few, as this volume will be locked away upon its completion. Intention is a subtle art, and one that has only existed in small doses before now. Many call it a sixth sense and have only a dash of it in their blood, but I have gone too far and learned too much. Choose carefully what you learn from this book. You may wish you’d never found it at all.”
“Well, that’s ominous.” Loki rested his chin on my shoulder, his hands clasped around my waist.
“The Source of Intuition. Body Language. Avoiding Poisoned Food. Whoever wrote this was truly paranoid. But look, runes for sensing intention. If I could understand what exactly is going on in Odin’s mind, maybe I could turn things in my favour.”
“Are you sure this is the right book? It’s not all that impressive on its own.”
I kept shuffling through the pages. “It doesn’t need to be. Think how useful it would be to know if someone was lying, if you were about to be taken advantage of.” I snapped the book shut and turned to tuck it into Loki’s bag. “This is the one.”
“If you insist.” The words trailed into a yawn. “Does that mean we can go to bed?”
We locked up the gate and reversed our steps, putting the keys back where Loki had found them and leaving back through the window. There wasn’t a single soul still awake as we made the short trek back to my hall. We went straight to bed, where I curled up in Loki’s arms, his hand stroking the top of my hair until I fell asleep and dreamed of the future.