Page 97 of Soul of Shadow
“And just who had the audacity to interrupt me in the middle of happy hour?”
Charlie groaned and craned her neck, trying to get a look at whoever had just appeared. But before she could, blackness covered her vision and tightened around her chest. Elias. He’d seen the feather’s power waning and had wrapped her in yet another length of shadow rope, this time starting at the very top of her head and extending all the way to her ankles. She was caught. She was mummified. She was a fish that could do nothing but flop about on the stone floor. And if the grunting behind her was any indication, Mason and Abigail were, too.
The feathers must have worn off from all three of us,she thought.
She tried to open her mouth, but all she could do was choke on the cords around her mouth.
“Loki,” came Elias’s voice, suddenly subdued, deferential—and with that single word, every cell in Charlie’s body froze at once.
Loki.
Loki was here. Standing above them.
How was that possible?
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Elias went on, “but it was of the utmost importance that you come.”
“Well,” said the god, voice dangerously light, as if he stood in the middle of a party, not a room full of bound and gagged bodies. “Be quick about it. You know I only have a few minutes when I do this.”
“I’m aware,” said Elias quickly. “The thing is—”
The Fenrir gave a low growl.
Loki, who sounded as if he hadn’t noticed the creature until that moment, said, “Ah. I see you’ve found my son.”
The Fenrir made a spitting noise. “You’ve hardly earned the right to call me by that title, seeing as you let the other gods leave me to rot on that rock. Some father you are.” His voice was garbled, gummy—no doubt due to the holes where his teeth used to be.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” At this, Charlie could almost picture the god holding up his hands, trying to play off his betrayal as nothing personal. “Come, now. I’ve been dealing with my own drama, locked down in Helheim. You know that.”
Loki’s voice was so strangely familiar. Though Charlie knew it was impossible, she couldn’t help feeling that she had heard it before. Perhaps in a dream. For all she knew, Elias had been sneaking in her window and giving her Loki-tinted nightmares.
“Right,” growled the Fenrir. “You were busy. Is that why you sent your little errand boy to find me?”
“Hey,” said Elias, as if this title deeply offended him.
“You know well why I sent my mare to find you,” said Loki.“The gods know of the raven that you spoke with. The one who brought you news of the Seal’s location.” He paused, and Charlie could almost imagine him pasting an oily smile onto his slimy face, though she still didn’t know what he looked like. “Don’t you wish to share the news with your dear father? Isn’t that why you’ve been looking for me?”
“I’ve been looking for you,” the Fenrir snapped, “because I wanted you to be the first of the gods to die.”
“Hmm,” Loki said. “Troubling. Pity those teeth of yours seem to have taken a beating.” His footsteps shuffled across the cave floor. “Who was responsible for that, by the way? I’d like to thank them personally.”
“It was one of our captives,” said Elias. “I don’t recommend releasing her. She seems to have come into possession of a Valkyrie knife.”
“Nonsense.” Loki clapped twice. “Let me see the captives. It’ll be fun.”
“But you have only two minutes left—”
“Elias.” His voice cut sharply. “Release them.”
Elias hesitated. Then, like a dozen snakes slithering slowly off her body, the shadow cords released their hold on Charlie. They withdrew, spooling back toward Elias, leaving only her mouth gagged and her legs bound and tethered to the floor.
“This isn’t about these pathetic humans,” growled the Fenrir. “This is about you and me, Father, and I expect you to give me the respect and attention that I deserve.”
Loki sighed, as if the wolf was little more than a nuisance intruding upon his fun. Charlie lifted her head and craned her neck around in time to see the god stroll over to the Fenrir, stopping just in front of him.
“My boy,” said Loki, spreading his arms wide, as if to offer the wolf a hug. “I was responsible for bringing you into this world, monster that you are, which means youwillgive me the information I seek.” He smiled wide, though it didn’t touch his eyes.
Loki didn’t look the way Charlie had expected. She’d envisioned an oily man, skinny, with an oversize, white-toothed smile—a court jester made into a god. Drawings of Loki on the internet showed a man with long red hair and devious eyes, sometimes wearing a mask. A clownish figure, occasionally bearing a goatee or horns. She knew he was a shape-shifter, so perhaps those drawings only depicted one version of him.
