“Shared blood means nothing. There are some people you would die for. Those people are your true family, and fuck the rest.”
—Tales of Midgard, Volume 11
“This place is a cage. You’ve trapped me in here like an animal for weeks.” Angrboda splayed herself over the table, still in the nightdress I’d loaned her for sleeping. Given to her, more like. She could burn it when she was done.
“You can always make yourself useful and help with breakfast.” I swept past her chair and laid out the plates.
“I’ll go hunting. I’ll catch fish with my bare hands. Just let me outside.”
“If you get caught, we all suffer. We’re pushing our luck staying this long as it is.” Loki was tending to the pan over the fire, the smell of bacon wafting up as he turned each piece. “Besides, Váli’s been bringing home enough food for everyone.”
“Really not the point, Lokes.” Angrboda got up and stretched, then went to the counter to dice up some raw rabbit for Fenrir.
The door to Loki’s room crept open and Hel wobbled out, rubbing her eyes. She made her way to the hearth and pressed herself against her father. “Morning,” she mumbled.
He planted a kiss on her head. “Good morning, dove. I know what you smelled.”
“Bacon.”
“Hop up to the table; it’s nearly ready.” Loki looked around. “Where are the rest?”
Narvi was curled up in the middle of a scattering of maps in the far corner, Fenrir on his lap. But Váli and Jormungandr still hadn’t shown their faces.
“Váli came home late last night. Maybe he’s still asleep.” I gave a knock, calling through his door. “Breakfast is ready.”
A muffled grumble rose from the other side. I shrugged and left well enough alone. It wasn’t my problem if he didn’t get up. Just more bacon for the rest of us.
Angrboda put the plate of rabbit on the floor and clicked her tongue. Fenrir’s ears perked up, and he bounded across the room towards breakfast. Meanwhile, Loki was putting the sizzling pan on a rack in the middle of the table, perfectly placed for each of us to pounce on it.
That was when we heard the scream.
Something hit the floor in Váli’s room. Hard. There was a series of thumps, and before any of us could properly react, the door flew open. The screaming continued as a half-clothed bear of a man stumbled out, backing away from the door. His chest heaved, his whole body posed for a fight.
Out slithered Jormungandr, unconcerned with the man waiting for him to attack.
“A snake! There’s a huge snake!” He turned to us to point it out, and the fear turned to a cold panic as he realized what he had done. “It’s…oh, shit.” He shrunk into himself, unable to cover his rather hairy chest with just his hands. Lucky for him, he’d had the sense to keep his trousers on.
Loki tilted his head, an amused smirk on his face. “Hello.”
“H-hello, sir. Good morning. I’m so sorry.”
“Who is this?” Angrboda had a kitchen knife in her hand, slicked with rabbit blood.
“I don’t know.” Loki leaned against one of the chair backs, looking more or less as predatory as Angrboda. “She doesn’t like strangers, so you should speak quickly.”
Narvi came to the table, hardly a care in the world. “It’s only Hreidulfr.”
“Leave him alone. You’re going to scare him away.” Váli came out of his room with two shirts in hand and passed one to Hreidulfr, who whipped it over his head in a heartbeat.
“So, I assume this is what I think it is?” I asked, staring pointedly.
“Yes, Mother, it is.” He took Hreidulfr by the hand, and the young man’s face turned bright red. “Are you finished interrogating him? Or will you let breakfast get cold instead?”
“Oh, I’m never finished.” Loki pulled out a chair. “Come, we don’t bite. Much.”
Hreidulfr, bless him, did his best to look unaffected. He took a seat with Váli tucked closely to him. The rest of us found a place around the table and freed up an extra portion for our new guest. Only Angrboda was left standing.
“Bo. Put the knife down.” Loki pushed her plate towards her, trying to tempt her.
“None of us know him. What if he tells someone?” She stretched each of her fingers on the grip of the knife, one by one.
“Have some sense.” I gestured to the two lovers. “He’s just been caught half-naked coming out of another man’s room. We know his secret, and we could take him down with us.”
“Mother!” Narvi’s jaw was open, letting flies in.
“But that won’t happen, will it?” I shovelled my own portion of breakfast onto my plate.
“One of the things you’ll learn, Hreidulfr, is that being part of this family is about loyalty. Some of us are better at it than others—” my gaze flicked to Loki—“but the hard truth is that we are all we have. It’s a difficult initiation, but we’ll keep your confidences in return for the same. None of us fit out there, so we may as well fit together here.” I picked up my drink and tapped it against Hreidulfr’s cup. “To odd families.”
That earned me a smile. Hreidulfr pushed his curly, short-cropped hair back, clearly still nervous. “Indeed, ma’am. You have my word, though I’m not sure what secret I’m keeping for you. Thank you for breakfast.”
Seeing she was outnumbered, Angrboda slowly took her seat.
“So,” Loki said between bites. “Where did you meet?”
“He’s one of the einherjar.” Váli reached across the table for bread, taking enough for two. “He’s been training in Asgard for a couple of decades now.”
“I was nineteen when I died, sir. Been here long enough to see my brothers arrive as old men.” His voice had a dialect to it, something rural and traditional.
“And you know who we are?” I took a slow drink.
Hreidulfr nodded. “All due respect, ma’am, I’ve heard a lot of stories. I don’t know what’s true and what’s not, but my pa always said a man shouldn’t believe everything he hears. People say you’re evil, but I know Váli isn’t, and you all seem nice enough to me.” He cleared his throat. “Anyone else would’ve run me out of town already. I appreciate that you didn’t.”
An uncontainable grin spread across my lips. “Oh, Váli, I like him.”
“You’re probably too sweet for this family.” Loki pointed down the table with a piece of bread. “But treat my boy well, and you’re welcome here. I assume he’s been good to you?”
“Yes, sir, Váli is...he’s very good to me, sir.” He hazarded a glance at Váli and was answered with a kiss on the cheek.
“That’s right I am.” Váli was actually blushing. Love looked good on him.
“Tell me. How is it that Narvi knows you and we don’t?” I got up to stoke the fire and put on a second round of food.
Váli shrugged. “You weren’t always home when I brought him around.”
“It’s good to finally meet you, ma’am. He speaks highly of you.”
I ruffled Váli’s hair as I passed. “Such a good boy.”
“I won’t dare ask what he says about me.” Loki laughed and reached under the table to scoop Jormungandr up and place him around his neck.
Hreidulfr mumbled awkwardly until Váli spoke over him. “Maybe if you’d do something worth being proud of, I’d have better things to say.”
“Whoa.” I stepped into Váli’s view. “Not today. Neither of you. No egging each other on, no fighting, no knives. I’m having a nice day for once, and neither of you is going to ruin it.”
“Yes, darling.” Loki was grinning.
“Do not call me that.”
But truth be told, it was the best I’d felt in a long time. It was a strange, mottled, misshapen family that I suddenly found myself in, but I wasn’t lonely. As frustrating as it was to deal with Angrboda, and as much as I hated watching Loki being warm with someone else, it all felt…companionable at worst. The last two weeks had been a challenge full of wolf howls and bickering and shadows that moved of their own accord, but I’d never once felt alone. We loved our children, and that bound us together.
With something to be joyous over, this new addition to the fold, the entire table almost looked happy.
I was honestly surprised to see Hreidulfr return after training that night. He brought a sack of mixed vegetables to add to supper, and by the time we’d finished eating, he felt familiar, like a piece of the furniture.
“You think he’ll stay?” Loki asked, before going back to whispering runes to keep the dishes washing themselves.
Váli and Hreidulfr were on the floor, tossing an old leather ball for Fenrir to play with. He was trying to explain things to Hreidulfr: why Hel was so strange to look at, why there was a snake and a wolf and a second woman. He seemed to be taking it with an odd sort of stride. As if he were happy just to hear Váli speak.
“He hasn’t run yet.” I wiped down a splash of water on the counter. “Váli needs someone. He’s never brought home a friend. Even with all those einherjar, I don’t think he has one.”
Loki’s lips pursed. “The boy could use a fresh start. Somewhere he can lie about his name.”
“Maybe.”
Loki turned, letting the dishes fall still. “Sig, you know I’ve been trying to find a place for them to go. It’s only a matter of time before Frigg has a premonition and sends Odin in this direction. And I think you should come with us.” He held up a hand as I started to speak. “Just wait, please. There’s nothing for any of us here. We could take both the families and run. No more talk of fate, no more gods, no more watching our backs. Build a home on a lake in Jotunheim and just live. Don’t you want that kind of freedom?”
I thought about it a moment, then shook my head. “We wouldn’t make it three months without the apples.”
“I’m working on that. I just have to be a very good thief, that’s all. If we could solve it, would you come? Be a family with us?”
I sighed. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking me? To go off on the run with you and your mistress, like that’s supposed to be the end of some romantic story? You cheated, Loki.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know that. We were as good as separated.” His eyes narrowed, staring me down. “Why didn’t you ask for a divorce?”
I took a moment, staring at the wall, trying to find the right words. “It wasn’t that easy for me. At first it was for the children, and then I was too embarrassed, too hurt. And then it didn’t really matter.”
He pointed to my hand. “You’re still wearing the ring.”
“I couldn’t decide if I should keep it on or take it off. So, I didn’t decide anything and here it still is.”
“Do you still want us to be together?”
I glanced across the room, making sure Angrboda wasn’t close by. “I don’t know. No. But not no. You destroyed our lives so thoroughly that I don’t get to move on. I don’t have other options but you.” I braced myself against the counter, staring down at the knots in the wood so I didn’t need to look him in the eyes. “If I were to say yes and we left, how would—”
Fenrir started to howl.
“Nothing’s wrong, Fen.” Váli scooped him up. “Quit that.”
But Fenrir scrambled out of his grasp and ran to the door, sniffing and pawing at the gap at the floor.
I looked out the kitchen window. Twenty einherjar were nearly on our doorstep, Odin leading the pack.
I turned to Loki. “They’re here. Hide them.”
“Bo, get the kids!” Loki ran to the door and grabbed Fenrir, holding his hand over the pup’s tiny jaw to keep him from howling. “Hreidulfr, get out of here. Through Sleipnir’s old room, here. There’s a door to the outside. Go!”
Each of us was moving, but there wasn’t enough time. Váli had just closed the bedroom door on Hreidulfr when the einherjar burst through the front. Angrboda had Hel in her arms and Jormungandr around her neck, dagger held forward.
“Stay away, hangman,” she hissed.
Váli stepped up beside me, already removing his shirt, the rune tattoos on his chest beginning to shimmer.
The einherjar made way for Odin. He took us in, trembling and ready to fight, and entwined his fingers like an impatient father. “Come quietly.”
“What, and no one gets hurt?” Loki spat. He’d grabbed the poker from the hearth and held it at arm’s length, Fenrir tucked against his chest.
Odin shrugged. “I didn’t say that. Take them.”
The einherjar flooded into the room, knocking over everything in their path. I grabbed a kitchen knife and swung at the nearest, drawing a gash on her arm. Whispering the runes for lightning, I touched my hand to her face and sent her writhing to the floor. One down.
A deep howl pierced the room as Váli changed shape, the rest of his clothing ripping from his body. Fur sprung up, and bones cracked as he shifted. His wolf form was dark grey and emerald-eyed, and he was massive. Immediately, he sprung forward and knocked over a pair of soldiers, ripping one of their throats out.
Teal flame shot across the room and a tiny, shrill howl pierced the cries. Narvi was yelling, begging everyone to stop and see reason. Angrboda removed her dagger from someone’s eye and swung for the next, wild with rage.
The shadows began to move.
One by one, the black shapes peeled off the walls, standing on their own crooked legs. They were flat as paper, hunched and broken in strange places. Heads with no necks. Long, creeping torsos that made them taller than anyone in the room. Each of them moved like oil toward their owners until they were on top of them, seeping down over them as if the einherjar had rolled in tar. Their screams were deafening.
Hel stood on the table, her tiny arms outstretched, lips moving in rune whispers.
I tried to take advantage of the distraction, but a flash of light burst from Odin’s palm, flooding the room. It was blinding, nothing but white. Spots of black ran in my vision, and then the shapes of the einherjar, the table, my kitchen, slowly came back. When I could see, the shadows were gone, slunk back into place at their owner’s feet.
“Get the girl!” Odin’s voice stirred the soldiers back into motion, each of them squinting and rubbing their eyes, trying to get their grasp back on the room.
Hel. She had fallen back onto the table, hands over her eyes.
I rushed toward her, climbing over the limp body of one of the einherjar to step onto the table. I scooped her up and tucked her against me, leaping from the table. If I could get her out the door in Sleipnir’s room, out into the city—
Something bit into my leg like it was butter. Pain shot up my calf and it gave out beneath me, toppling Hel and me to the floor. I barely felt the impact, only the searing burn of my leg. My dress had come up around my thighs and a bright streak of red tore through the back of my calf. Deep. A sword. My stomach lurched, more pain than I could bear. But I managed to roll on top of Hel, shielding her from everything above us.
“Sigyn!” Loki was close, but I couldn’t wait, couldn’t look for him. We needed to hide.
“I’ll keep you safe. Crawl to the room.” My words were a hiss, barely a whisper, but Hel nodded, tears streaking her face. We began to inch away, dragging my leg behind me.
Someone grabbed me by the arm and hauled me up, away from Hel.
“No! Let me go! She’s just a child—don’t fucking touch her!” I tried to fight, but I couldn’t put weight on my lame leg. Then another had me, pressing my jaw together until my teeth hurt. A muzzle was wrapped around my face, to keep my mouth from moving. Every breath I took was steeped in old leather and sweat.
The fight was over. They’d brought enough muzzles for all of us. Loki and Angrboda were still thrashing against their captors. My boys were unconscious, splayed out on the floor. Hel’s hands had been bound behind her, a leash clamped around her neck. There were two cages, one for Jormungandr and another for Fenrir.
Odin loomed over us, hands behind his back. He was proud of himself. My father, my captor. He laughed. “Did you think this would end any other way? That you could hide from us? There is nowhere that we can’t find you.” He waved a hand. “Take them to the dungeons.”
The einherjar at my back pushed me to walk and I fell, the muscle in my leg refusing to work. I was sitting in my own blood, my hands covered in it. I blinked, trying to force back the darkness that was looming at the edges of my vision. Another attempt to drag me up only shot a flash of pain through my body.
The light in the world flickered and went dark.