Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate (33 page)

But with Thor’s declaration of loyalty to Eve, Sif and Loki gave up all pretense of disinterest, flaunting themselves before him at every opportunity. It wore at his patience and his pride, leaving his temper badly frayed, and the thunder of his anger lurked much too near. So Thor walked the Earth, and when he returned to Asgard, he drank to drown the fire in his blood, but his mind wandered, reaching toward Eve, and what he could not have. So he drank more, to keep himself from thinking and let the Valkyries flirt and tease him to distraction.

Perhaps he drank too much.

“Thor.”

He lifted his head from the table and tried to focus his eyes on the person before him. Too much mead. The voice was odd, though without seeing who spoke, he couldn’t put his finger on why.

There was a sigh, and then he was slapped across the face. Hard.

Anger and lightning burned away the blur in his eyes, and when Athena raised her hand to slap him again, he caught it by the wrist, rising to his feet with a growl. “You have no business here, Greek.”

“Because you’re so obviously drunk, I’ll forgive the intended slur.” She pulled her arm free from his grasp and her eyes flashed as she glared up at him. “I came at your brother’s invitation, though I cannot say Odin is entirely pleased.”

Thor grunted and dropped back to the bench, rubbing his face and trying to calm himself. Athena was his ally. Eve’s protector. Tora. His Eve. His lovely, brave Eve. “She is well? Sif and Loki—?”

Athena’s gray eyes narrowed. “This is neither the time nor the place for that discussion, Thor. How could you allow yourself to become this—what could you possibly be hoping to accomplish by drooling on the table?”

“Peace,” he grumbled, but he let the lightning consume the alcohol in his blood and tried to clear his mind. Using his power this way always left him with a ferocious headache, and he did not love Athena overmuch for giving him need to abandon his stupor. “As long as I remain here, drooling, as you put it, Tora’s village is left alone, and so are the others. But I can hardly tolerate that—” he jerked his chin up, indicating Sif, where she sat upon the Trickster’s lap, “without help.”

Her voice softened, and she touched his arm. “This is not peace. This is poison and pain. Your brother says you spend your days drinking until you black out, and he carries you to your bed. If she is holding your people hostage—”

“What?” he demanded, unable to hide his bitterness. “I should appeal to my father?” He barked a laugh, but didn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see the judgment in her eyes or the pity in her face. Easier to watch Sif, feeding Loki bits of fruit and cheese, tracing her fingertip over the curve of his ear. “It is no business of yours what goes on in these lands.”

“It is not the lands I care about, nor even the people. We have need of you. Sif and Loki have not been idle while you were leashed to Asgard.”

He watched Sif rise, casting him a sly smile as she took the Trickster with her from the hall. It seemed she did not even care enough to be jealous of Athena, now that she had Loki to satisfy her. “No, I do not suppose they have.”

“Thor.” Athena’s hand tightened on his arm, her fingers digging into the muscle and drawing his attention. He glowered at her, but her expression stopped him. She looked gray with stress and worry, lines fanning out from around her eyes that had not been there before. “They are calling for Eve’s death.”

Thunder cracked so loud overhead the rafters shook, a rain of dust falling from the ceiling. “The Covenant—”

“Makes room for sanctions against another god or goddess, if it is agreed to in Council. But Adam and Eve are not part of the Council, and the angels refused to take part in the agreement when it was made. She has no defense.”

His eyes burned, and the headache he had thought ferocious before became blinding. Or perhaps that was the lightning, hazing his vision. “She has done nothing wrong, made no threat to any of us. She does not even know we live! What reason could they possibly give for this?”

“Loki argues her very presence is a threat. And if she does learn of us, she might choose to give herself to Adam. The two of them together, and the godchild they might create will unmake the world, destroying every living thing upon it, and with a god of that power laying claim, we will be fortunate to escape with our lives. He says it is the only way to protect our people.”

Thor sneered, rising to his feet. “Loki argues, does he? And his silver tongue serves him well, I am sure, no matter how offensive the lie.”

“Thor,” Athena’s tone held caution, her nails biting into his skin. “If you lose your temper now, lash out blindly—”

“Not blindly,” he said. “No, I would not miss the sight of it for anything after all I’ve suffered. Have you any idea how long I’ve wondered why Odin tolerated that filthy cur? But I see, now. I see exactly what purposes he serves, and I have had enough. The Covenant that binds us will be honored in letter as well as spirit, whether that is my father’s will or not!”

He shook off Athena’s hand, and ignored her call for him to calm, to see reason. He’d had enough of reason, enough of wisdom, for it had only brought him to this place, leashed like a dog to his father’s throne. If Odin wished him to remain in Asgard, so be it. But Thor would not stand by and let them strip him of his honor, too. He would not let Loki, Sif, or Odin use the relationships he had built for the Aesir for ill-purpose. He had a right to extract payment for the insult and dishonor, and he would do so now.

Thor shouldered his way past his brothers, past his sons, snarling at their questions and concerns. Of course it did not stop Baldur from following, or Athena, her pale face even whiter still, but he did not care. It was better to have witnesses, besides. Baldur would defend his right to justice, and what Baldur judged fair, no Aesir would argue. Not even Odin, though he might still punish Thor for disobedience of some kind.

As long as he silenced the Trickster before he spread more lies about Eve, it would be worth it.

“Loki!” he bellowed, thunder rumbling beneath the word. He knew where they would be. No god could have failed to notice after all these years. And even Sif was not foolish enough to bring the Trickster back to the cottage, now that Thor spent his nights at home.

The god was lounging in the courtyard of his hall with a group of women, Sif and Sigyn among them. Servants darted in and out from the kitchens bringing food and drink to Loki’s guests. Unlike the Aesir, Loki did not care for the cold, and had built an external hearth in his garden. A fire burned low, now, for the sun was still warm. Until Thor covered it with storm clouds.

Loki did not rise, but smirked and raised his mug. “Thor, what a surprise. Sigyn, my love, find some mead for the Odin-son. As much as he can drink!”

Sigyn rose lazily from her position, draped against his chest. “Of course, husband.”

Thor did not watch her go. That any goddess had found the Trickster worth marrying, and could suffer his infidelities thereafter, was beyond his capacity for understanding. As it was, Sigyn seemed to do little else beside wait on her husband.

Sif smiled at him, her fingers playing in Loki’s hair. “Husband, how kind of you to join us.”

“Kindness has little to do with you, I promise.”

“Pay him no mind, Sif. Thor is blustering because we found his mistress at last. His honor demands he make threats until I am cowed.” Loki smirked, but still did not move to dislodge Sif, and nor did she stir, though her skirts were in clear disarray, the Trickster’s hand on the bare skin of her thigh.

Lightning crackled behind his eyes, but he banked his fury, letting his anger cool into the calm of anticipation. Loki would pay for his insults today, and the knowledge settled his temper nicely. “You will stop spreading your lies by treading on my honor, Loki.”

“All in good fun, Thor. You can hardly deny me this smallest of entertainments, when you run about the world fathering children and taking lovers as you please. Though I should have thought you had better taste, Athena. Or is Thor the sexless wonder you’ve been waiting for?”

Baldur shifted uneasily, behind him. “It is unwise to say such things, Loki, of any god.”

“No, brother, let him go on. Let him continue to perjure himself, so there can be no doubt by any who witness that my response is justified.” Thor hefted a hammer that had been left beside the fire. No doubt Loki had been attempting to smelt and forge, tired of having to trade with the other pantheons for metal arms, now that there were no dwarves to work for them.

“Perjure myself? Do you deny you took a wife during the exile we shared on earth?” Loki grinned. “I suppose I couldn’t blame you if you were only practicing your arts, knowing that when you returned to Sif’s bed you would have to live up to my skill.”

Thor was surprised by the weight of the hammer, the power. Sparks of lightning wrapped around the shaft, and lit the heart of its head, the weapon magnifying his own strength. This was a hammer brought from the old worlds, then. Stolen from the dwarves themselves. He should not have been surprised to find it near Loki, he supposed, for that one had always taken what he wanted for himself with no regard for the person who possessed it.

“Are you sure you want to keep insulting me, Loki?”

“No insult, Thor, merely fact. Is it not true, Sif? He’s so intimidated by you he cannot even perform his husbandly duty, though I would venture he might not be so unmanned if you took the guise of his mortal wife.”

Sif glanced over him lazily, her eyes glowing golden. “Shall we test your theory?”

Perhaps he had been mistaken, and this hammer was not for the forge, but forged itself. The Dwarven war-hammer?
Mjölnir
? And Loki and Sif provoking him while he held it. Unwise indeed.

Loki’s grin twisted with malice, and Sif rose, her body shifting in the same motion. Golden hair darkened, turning to a rich, chestnut brown, and the lean, hard muscle of her body slimmed and softened, even the glow of her eyes faded into the startling green of Eve’s.

Thor stiffened, his grip on
Mjölnir
tightening. She might look like Tora, but her expression lacked Eve’s warmth, her love. He growled.

“Change back.”

Sif smiled with Eve’s face and stretched Eve’s arms above her head, like a drowsy leopard, toying with its prey. “What is it about this form, Thor, that drives you so mad?” Her gaze shifted briefly over his shoulder. “I suppose you always favored fey-colored creatures. Is that why you prefer Athena to Aphrodite, too? For her dull, dark hair?”

“Sif,” Baldur warned. “You may not insult a guest of Asgard in my presence.”

“I do not take offense,” Athena said, her voice cool. “We in Olympus have known for some time the worth of Sif’s words.”

Sif’s lip curled, and Thor freed himself from her spell, shaking his head to clear it. Eve would never look on anyone with such open loathing and hostility. Sif brushed by him, and so help him, but even her scent was Tora’s. Sunshine and spring rains. But she was not Eve. And if she had her way, if he did not silence Loki, Eve would not live long enough to know him again.

Thor caught Sif by the arm and threw her back to the Trickster.

“An unconvincing display,” he growled. “Your game is played and lost. Change back, and do not test me further, Sif, I warn you.”

She laughed, falling gracefully to the couch beside Loki, who had not bothered to so much as stretch out an arm to steady her. “You warn me? And what will you do if I disobey? Your precious honor will keep you from striking me, doubly so while I keep this form. And Odin has granted me his protection, besides. I am free to do as I will.”

He bared his teeth. “If you wish to test that theory as well, then stay where you are and we will see which of us is more determined. Because I assure you, wife, the bars of my cage are broken.”

Maybe it was because the sky had gone black above them, or perhaps because of the calm in his voice, for he had firm control of his temper as he lifted the hammer, but Sif rose, stumbling back, as he advanced. She had too much pride to run, and too much sense to stand between him and the Trickster. He was not certain he was glad of it.

Loki did not so much as sit up when Thor’s shadow reached him, his silhouette stretching toward Sif where she had pressed herself to the wall.

“You know what I love most about you, Thor?” he drawled, examining his fingernails.

“I’m sure you have every intention of telling me.”
Mjölnir’s
handle was shorter than he might have liked, but he’d make do. He tested his grip, but the hammer fit perfectly to his hand, its thirst burning the back of his throat.

Loki lifted his gaze, a terrible grin splitting his face. “You are so easy to drive into a rage. So predictable. And yet, still, you surprised me. I should have known from the beginning it was Elohim’s daughter, but you had us all so convinced of your loyalty to Sif. I cannot wait to go to her, dressed in your skin. How startling it will be, when the man she loved appears before her eyes. I think I shall kiss her first, to see how sweet she is, before I beat her bloody and—”

Thor brought the hammer down on his face.

A gasp sounded behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. Sigyn stood by the kitchen entrance, a mug clutched too tightly in her hands.

“Have no fear, Sigyn. He won’t be killed.” Even as he said it, Loki was scrambling back, barely stunned by the blow.

“What do you think you’re doing, you oaf?” Loki demanded.

“You seem only to understand one language, Trickster.”

Thor swung the hammer up with both hands, catching Loki by the chin and throwing him back against the hall. He was sure he heard the crack of his jaw that time, and Loki screamed. The first strike had merely been a warning, without any of his strength behind it. This one was something else entirely, and
Mjölnir
hummed in his hands.

“Thankfully, it is one I speak.”

Sigyn began to weep, but Thor ignored her and dragged Loki to his feet by his tunic. Blood poured from his nose and mouth, and Thor guessed he had bitten his tongue. Good.