Chapter 20
After a quick dinner with her mom—Mason was already headed to the Gut (but then, these days, Mason always had an excuse to get out of family meals)—Charlie sprawled out on her bed and opened her laptop, ready to finish the story about Balder.
Up by her headboard, Henry was bundled up in his favorite wool blanket, watching The Witcher on Charlie’s phone.
He cheered every time Henry Cavill drove his sword through someone’s chest.
Charlie scrolled back to the part of the story where she had left off.
Nothing could touch Balder.
All the gods rejoiced at their favorite’s newfound invincibility. All but one, who lurked in the shadows, scheming as always.
As Frigg proudly observed what she had done, an elderly woman appeared beside her.
“Is that your son?” asked the woman.
“It is,” said Frigg, smiling.
“He is beautiful.”
“That he is.” Frigg had never seen this old woman before, but she was proud enough of what she’d achieved that she wished to tell her anyway.
“He cannot die. I’ve spoken to everything on Asgard that could kill him and received their promise that they will do him no harm.
Everything except mistletoe, of course, since that little creeper can’t possibly kill him. ”
“Mistletoe, hmm?” asked the woman.
“That’s right,” said Frigg, laughing as Thor threw an entire ox at Balder and watched it fall uselessly to the ground.
When she turned back to the old woman, she was gone.
Naturally, that old woman had been Loki in disguise. Armed with the knowledge of Balder’s one weakness, he went into the forest to collect mistletoe, fashioning it into a razor-sharp dart. He slipped it into his pocket and returned to the celebration.
The group was still cheering, throwing anything dangerous they could find at Balder and roaring with laughter when it bounced right off. The only god who could not participate in the merriment was Hod, Balder’s blind brother. It was to Hod that Loki went when he returned with his dart of mistletoe.
“Hello, Hod,” said Loki. “You seem down. What’s the matter?”
“Oh, hello, Loki,” said Hod, recognizing his voice. “It’s nothing. I just wish I could see what was making everyone laugh and cheer so much.”
“Why, they’re playing a game with your brother, Balder! You see, nothing can harm him now. They’re having great fun proving his immortality by throwing large objects at him.”
“Wow,” said Hod. “I wish I could join.”
“You can!” said Loki. “Let me help you. I’ll lead you over to where they’re standing and give you something to throw at him. It will be something small, but I guarantee they will still roar with laughter when you throw it.”
“That would be wonderful, Loki,” said Hod. “Thank you so much.”
Loki led Hod over to the gathered gods, nudging them aside to make sure Hod ended up in the optimal throwing spot. Once Hod was in position, Loki placed the small dart of mistletoe in his hand.
“Go ahead, Hod,” Loki said encouragingly. “Make them all laugh!”
Hod smiled and threw the dart.
Expectantly, he waited for the other gods to laugh. To appreciate his addition to the joke.
Instead, the crowd went silent—and then Frigg began to wail.
The story wasn’t over yet, but Charlie stopped reading. She needed a break.
This story … unsettled her. On the surface, it was not so different from the other stories she’d read: the gods do something to make themselves stronger or better or wiser (in all these stories, Charlie noticed the gods are obsessed with their immortality and are constantly finding ways to ensure it can never end), clever Loki plays a shape-shifting trick, someone dies, etc.
It had all the trappings of a classic Norse myth.
Why, then, did this story in particular make Charlie sick to her stomach?
And then it hit her.
The answer was Loki himself. In the tales Charlie had read, Loki did morally questionable things, but there was always a reason.
A purpose behind his tricks and mischief.
They fit into whatever scheme he was running—one that benefited him, the rest of the gods, or both.
She might disagree with his actions, but she understood them.
This story was different. It offered no reason for Loki killing Balder. Was it jealousy? An unresolved feud? Something else? Because, as the story was written now, Loki killed Balder simply to be cruel, to hurt the other gods.
It made Charlie’s stomach churn. Yet another reason to pray he was not her real father.
Sighing, she pushed aside her laptop and settled in to do some homework. Her mom was right; she’d been slacking lately. But how exactly was she supposed to focus on schoolwork when the end of the world was always just around the corner?
Charlie had a math worksheet and three chapters in A Tale of Two Cities due the next day.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the pages in front of her for more than five minutes before her mind started to wander.
To flash back to the Morrises on the forest floor or Rattatosk’s message carved into that garage door or to Thrym’s mountainous voice telling her, Stand, child of Loki.
She couldn’t truly be Loki’s child … right?
Right?
After forty minutes of staring at A Tale of Two Cities, Charlie gave up. She shoved the book onto the floor and rolled over onto her back, lifting up her phone.
I’m ditching school tomorrow, and so are you, she typed, then pressed Send.
There was no guarantee that Elias still used this number.
It was the number he’d used three weeks ago, but for all she knew, that phone was long gone.
Maybe he’d smashed it before heading into the cave.
Or maybe he brought it along, but it blew up when they transported to Helheim.
Presumably, hurtling through space and time had a negative effect on one’s electronics.
Apparently, his phone was fine, though, because his response appeared only seconds later.
ELIAS: Mmm, I like the sound of this already
ELIAS: Your bedroom or mine?
She snorted.
CHARLIE: Don’t be disgusting.
CHARLIE: This is for training.
CHARLIE: Frankly, I don’t care about school right now. Not when we need to find Rattatosk’s master. I should focus on trying to learn the magical woo-woo stuff that could keep my town safe.
ELIAS: “magical woo-woo stuff”?
ELIAS: Don’t insult your father like that.
CHARLIE: Whatever
CHARLIE: I just mean that, on the off chance that I *do* have powers, I don’t even know what they are
ELIAS: Neither do I
CHARLIE: ???
CHARLIE: How in Freyja’s feathered bumhole are you going to teach me if you don’t even know what I can do?????
ELIAS: That’s a new one
ELIAS: I like it
ELIAS: And I have my ways, Charlotte. Don’t you worry. We’ll have you godlike in no time.
CHARLIE: Good
CHARLIE: Pick me up tomorrow. 6 a.m. Thursday, too, if necessary
ELIAS: Two days of nonstop fun with me by your side? Are you sure you’re prepared for that?
CHARLIE: No
CHARLIE: But I’m not letting this town lose any more innocent kids
ELIAS: Fair enough
There was a ten-second pause before his next message came through.
ELIAS: You do know that Henry can help keep you guys safe, too, right?
CHARLIE: Obviously. Who do you think dismantled that draugar you sent to kill me at homecoming?
ELIAS: Ahhh. Of course.
ELIAS: Good times
Charlie rolled her eyes and started to put her phone away but paused when she felt another buzz.
ELIAS: I’ll see you tomorrow.
ELIAS: Sleep well, Charlotte.
Her stomach clenched—she could imagine exactly how he would say those words. How he would lower his tone and lean in close, his breath brushing over her ear …
Sweet baby Thor, she thought. That is not a line of thinking I will be following.
She had to stay focused on the mission at hand. On finding the joturri controlling Rattatosk and putting an end to this bloodshed. She only needed to stay in contact with Elias until then. And as soon as it was done …
As soon as it was done, she would betray him.
Again.