“No man should ever reproach
another man for his love;
they often snare the wise,
what cannot catch the fool:
the loveliest looks of all.”
—Hávamál 93
“Mama?” Narvi looked up at me as I piled his arms with firewood. “Everyone is talking about Father. What did he do?”
I loaded Váli’s arms and then my own. “It’s difficult to explain.”
“Someone said he kidnapped Aunt Idunn. They’re saying he’s evil.” Váli clambered to keep up with me as I strode toward Asgard’s wall. Around us, dozens of others were doing the same, stacking wood against the inside of the stone. This far away from the city centre, there were trees to be cut for wood and farms to borrow from. Debts could be repaid later; who knew how much time it would take for Loki to fly to Jotunheim and back? Night was falling, and the logs and kindling were already piled like a snowdrift, as tall as we could manage.
I let my armload fall and helped the boys empty theirs. Then I knelt down in front of them. “Your father isn’t evil. He’s like you and me. We make choices, and some of them are better than others. Your father made a very terrible choice.”
Váli kicked a rock. “But it’s real? He did it?”
I took a deep breath. A large part of me wanted to lie, to spare them, but they were bound to spend the rest of their lives listening to stories of this day from lips more cruel than mine. “It’s true. I wish it wasn’t. Your father didn’t take Idunn, but he helped the person who did, and that’s just as bad.”
Narvi pouted, looking around. “Everyone hates him.”
Pulling him into my arms, I spoke gently into the top of his head. “I know. Sometimes people do unforgivable things, and anger is all there is to feel.”
“Are you mad at him?” There was venom in Váli’s voice that I didn’t recognize. Everything about him seemed hard, his lips pursed and his shoulders tight.
I made room for him in my arms as well. My own fury was all-encompassing, burrowed in my gut and burning a hole in me. So I chose my words carefully. “Yes. But we’ll get through tonight, and then we’ll get through tomorrow, alright? I love you both, and your father loves you, and nothing will change that—”
“Tired already? Shouldn’t you be more eager to prove yourself?”
I sighed. Freya was the last thing I needed.
I stood up to face her. “Please, leave us alone. Wasn’t this enough of a comeuppance for you?”
She put her hands on her hips. Some of her vigour had returned, likely through some act of seidr her students had concocted. She was still as old and grey, but alive enough to be an annoyance. “It is a bit satisfying, I’ll admit. You had so many chances to walk away, but you didn’t. We told you over and over.”
“Freya, for a Goddess of Love, you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of it.” I really wanted to refrain from saying caustic things, but gods help me, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
She laughed. “Do you call what he does love? Is that what makes a man betray his oldest, most loyal supporter? Have you still not managed to comprehend that what he feels for you is convenience? He loves that you’re accommodating. He loves that you’re an easy place to stick his prick once in a fortnight—”
“Freya!” I pulled Narvi to my side, where he whimpered against my leg. “Can you at least wait until my children aren’t listening?”
Váli stepped toward her, fists balled at his sides. “Don’t talk about my parents like that.”
She laughed and ruffled Váli’s hair. “You’ll be fierce someday. Maybe even convincing. But not yet.” She skirted past him, looking me in the eyes. “Sigyn, hate me all you want. You might think I’ve been mean, but I’ve tried to make you see him for what he is. This is your chance to leave. To change things. You don’t need to clean up after him anymore. You’ve lost everything because of him.”
“How can I lose everything when none of you let me have anything?” I pressed toward her, my face as close to hers as I dared. “What I do is none of your business. Leave us alone.”
She threw up her hands and turned to leave. “Alright.” But before she’d gone more than a few paces, she yelled over her shoulder, “Better move faster. You’ll need to save him again tonight.”
◦ ● ◦
A line of völur stood inside the wall of Asgard, watching the sky. Word had spread, and the people of the city had gathered behind them, parents holding their children, couples consoling each other with silent gestures. The only sound was the brush of the wind through the trees and the crackle of the torches that lit the night. Everyone knew what was at stake if Idunn didn’t come home.
The city was waiting.
A shriek sounded in the distance, and the völur came to life.
“Ready, ladies!” Freya swung her sword into the air, holding it for all to see. “Wait for them!”
I held Narvi and Váli to my sides, drawing long, deep breaths. I didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to move a muscle. Even after what he’d done, I needed to see him come back.
A small eternity passed.
A falcon bolted past the stone wall, a flash of feathers in the dark.
“Now!”
The völur reacted as one, their lips moving, hands outstretched. The wood caught, exploding skyward in brilliant colours, as varied and beautiful as the Bifrost itself. The wildfire burst past the edge of the wall, illuminating the dark. Something else flew through the flame.
An enormous bird screamed out, its body engulfed. It crashed to the ground, dragging rock and dirt with it, thrashing to put out the fire. Its voice was torn between the cry of an eagle and that of a man.
I pulled the boys closer, trying to shield them from the sight.
The city looked on, waiting for the bird to be still. And then it was.
I knelt down. “Are you alright?”
Narvi was crying, but he nodded. Váli was peering around my shoulder, his eyes glued to the einherjar approaching the charred, flaming mass. The air reeked of burnt game and cooked human flesh.
Freya strode past us, away from the fire. Toward a lone falcon sitting on the ground.
“Come on.” I herded the boys forward and followed her. She stopped a few paces from the falcon and so did we. She looked at me and I knew she was thinking the same thing.
Where was Idunn?
The falcon shook itself and hopped forward on one foot, an acorn held tightly in the other. It put the acorn down and backed away. Whatever he had done was fading, the air in front of me distorting. I blinked, and when I looked back, Idunn was lying on the ground.
She was curled into a ball, her dress filthy and her once-beautiful hair matted like old sheep’s wool. Where she’d once been supple, her skin clung to her bones, and her cheeks were sallow. She wasn’t old like us. She was broken, half-starved, abused. Shaking like a leaf in the storm.
I rushed forward, sinking to the ground next to her. I tried to gather her into my arms, but the look on her face made me recoil. Tears were running down her cheeks, disgust and fear in her eyes. She was cowering. From me.
Her voice was a rasping whisper. “Don’t touch me.”
Unable to look away, I sobbed into my hands. “I’m so sorry. I promise you, I didn’t know! He never told me. I didn’t know.”
“I should have.” She shifted away, her words distant and disjointed. “I should’ve listened. I didn’t want to believe. I trusted that he was good inside. That he loved me. What makes you any different? Stupid, so stupid.” She looked above my head, her eyes narrowed in defiance. “They were right. There was never anything good in you.”
I turned. Loki stood behind me. His hair whipped in the wind, blending with the flames at his back. His expression was hard, unreadable.
“Idunn!” Bragi ran toward us, dropping to his knees when he reached his wife. He swept Idunn into his arms, and he whispered into the crook of her neck, both of them sobbing.
All their attention was on each other, and we were forgotten.
And I knew. It wasn’t just the betrayal or whatever had gone on in that Jotun keep. It was all the doubts that she had ever had about him, coiled into a bitter mass of hate and shame. She’d had spent months toiling over the same things I had wondered about Loki in the last hours. Who he really was. What was real. If anything had ever been true. She was right to hate me. I should have known better.
And now I’d lost her.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. It was getting too crowded. The other gods were gathering, and too many eyes were already on me. On Loki. I needed to get my boys somewhere safer.
“Váli, Narvi, it’s time to go.” I took each of their hands and strode up the path as fast as they could manage. They were both quiet and that, I think, was worse than the questions.
Crunching stone rose up behind us. I tried to ignore it, but it was catching up. I let go of Váli’s hand and whipped around, ready to fight whoever had come for trouble.
“Sigyn.”
My hand twitched, my mind teetering on the decision to set him alight. He deserved it. “What do you want, Loki?”
“I want to explain.” He came closer, palms out, begging. “Please, darling. Just let me tell you what happened.”
“No. There’s nothing to say.” I stepped forward, wanting to keep the boys away from whatever came next.
Loki stopped just in front of me and reached for my hand. Repressing the scream in my chest, I pushed him backwards. “You don’t get to lay your hands on me.” I glared, waiting for him to try and defend himself. To apologize. To tell me that none of it was true, that it had all been a horrible nightmare.
When he spoke, his voice was a desperate whisper. “Sigyn...”
“Váli, take your brother home.” I pulled the dagger from my belt and pressed the hilt into his hand. “If anyone stops you, take their eyes. Don’t stop running until you’re home, and open the door for no one.”
He took the blade in one hand and his brother’s arm in the other. I kept my eyes on them as they ran, until they were out of sight.
“I wasn’t going to hurt them. You must know that.”
“You already did.” I turned back to him, stepping forward until I was pressing in on him, pushing him back. “You don’t need to lay a hand on us to rip us apart.”
“I didn’t—Please listen!” The pain on his face was so evident, and yesterday, it would have worked. I’d have believed it.
“Why? How could you do this?” I pushed him again. “You’ve destroyed everything. Not having Idunn would’ve killed us all, every god in one fell swoop. Me. You. Eventually your children. How was that plan supposed to resolve itself, hmm? And now everyone knows. No one in Asgard will ever trust you again.” I jabbed my finger into his chest. “And Idunn. She was my best friend. Your best friend. Did you see her? She’ll never be the same. And you did that to her.”
“I didn’t have a choice.” Loki’s back hit the wall of a house, stopping his retreat. “When Thjazi had me captive, he told me he’d let me live if I brought Idunn to him. And if I didn’t, he’d drop me from a thousand feet up. If I didn’t deliver, he’d come after you. What was I supposed to do?”
“He’s one Jotun, Loki!” People were watching, but I didn’t care. I kept screaming. “We could’ve done something if you’d just told me! We could’ve dealt with it together! We’re a city of gods and völur and einherjar. We could’ve done something!”
Loki’s lips turned to a snarl. “Who is ‘we’? Freya, who would love to see me skinned and beaten? Heimdall, who sees everything and does nothing? Your father, who threatens our kids to keep me in line? Who would believe me, Sigyn? Who would help me?”
I grabbed him by the jaw and held his gaze to mine, as if I could finally get through to him. “I would’ve helped you!”
He stared at me, prying my fingers off his face. He held my arm like a threat. “It’s not that simple.”
“Of course.” I yanked myself from his grip, rubbing the dull pain from my wrist. “You had to do it alone because you’re Loki and the realms are against you. You’re at war with everyone, including yourself! I’ve stood by you at every turn, and you repay me with deceit. You always find trouble; I can live with that. You lie to others, but we’re supposed to be different! How am I ever going to trust you again? I’ve forgiven so much of what you’ve done, Loki. How am I supposed to forgive this?”
“I was trying to protect you. That’s what I’ve always tried to do. You have no idea what’s happening in these walls, the things your father isn’t telling you—”
“What, Loki?” I threw my hands in the air. “What isn’t my father telling me? And how exactly would you know? What else have you been hiding from me?”
Loki’s mouth snapped shut, his teeth gritted in frustration. “It wouldn’t do any good—I can’t just—” He ran his hands down his face, speaking into his palms. “Even if you knew, it wouldn’t do any good. Maybe it’s not even real, and maybe we can’t stop it. Gods, Sigyn, you don’t understand!”
“You’re right, Loki.” I threw my hands up, finished. The pain he’d already inflicted was enough for a lifetime. “I don’t. How the fuck could I? I’m here, day in and day out, sticking up for you. Protecting you. And you’re keeping secrets I can’t pry out of you. How could I ever understand? You won’t let me. I’m just your moronic wife, too simple to understand complicated, tortured Loki.” I gave him one last push into the wall and turned away, back up the path toward home.
His footsteps didn’t follow.