Page 50 of Last Thrall of Asgard

I continued to surrender. Even, almost, enough to let thoughts of Loki go.

When we came, I couldn’t say who did so first. After the initial spurts left us, Yggdrasil detached us from each other, so that the rest of our spillage fell upon its branches.

“Thank you,” Mimir sighed, as he was lowered to lie flat again, and I was lowered to drape across him—all of him, torso and arms and legs and all.

“I think Yggdrasil directed us more than I did anything,” I said.

“Perhaps. But thank you all the same. Resurrection was… unpleasant. Reanimation hadn’t been nice either. But withthisrebirth, I think I can finally feel like me again.” He reached a quaking hand to my face. “You were right about something else, Oli.”

“That you know better what you need than I do?”

“Yes, because I need to stop living through visions. Through knowledge gained from the well.”

“I think more than one of the gods has learned that lesson. That living doesn’t mean knowing what comes next.”

Mimir closed his eyes and nodded. “Since Ragnarök, I have been more obsessed than I first was before losing my body. I cannot go on like that, but because of you, I believe I can weather the loss.” He opened his eyes again and took a breath before lifting me, easily, to prove he had the strength of a god, even if he’d been a head for ages, and moved me aside so he could stand and crawl from Yggdrasil’s hollow. “But before I do something about that, I owe you a drink.”

Did he mean it? I could scarcely believe it as he led me into the main hollow with the well. We were both still naked, but it seemed any release had been brushed away and absorbed by the tree.

Mimir retrieved an ale horn and filled it with a dip into the water before passing it to me. Within looked like normal water, but I knew how precious this drink could be.

“Odin gave up an eye for this chance,” I said, “and all I did was share a head with a tree.”

Mimir laughed.

“What will I see?” I asked.

“Only Ygg knows until you drink.”

I suddenly had a very different idea of what the wells of Yggdrasil might be filled with, but I had come this far. I couldn’t turn back now.

I brought the horn to my lips, tipped back its contents, and swallowed the cool water in a gulp.

LOKI

“What do youmeanyou can’t tell me?”

I’d stormed into the hollow of the tree where the Norns, my Jotun sisters, weaved the tapestry of life, knowing where all the threads of fate led.

“Tell me,” I’d demanded without so much as a greeting or forced smile. “Tell me what comes next. Tell me what the future holds for the god of mischief.”

The three sisters had looked at me and answered:

“We know what you seek.”

“We know your desperation.”

“But we cannot tell you.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“We are not the ones destined to tell your future,” said Urd.

“What infucking Heldoes that mean?”

“It means be patient.” Urd kept her calm.

“You will have answers in time,” said Verdandi.

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