22

As Heimdal half-helped, half-lifted me to my feet, the dizziness that had swept over me faded. His hands remained on my arms, but by then a warming indignation swelled through me.

He used his magic. Against me.

I pulled free of Heimdal and shot a warning frown up at him. His jaw clenched, but he kept his hands to himself. He stayed close, though, close enough to grab me again at a moment’s notice.

By then, Odin had reached me. My eyes barely reached the level of his neck, where cords stood out as he glared down at me. He loomed over me, steel gray hair and furious eyes.

“Where did you send him?” Odin spoke with a deadly calm.

My heart thudded. But at the same time, I heard my father’s voice in my head.

“Odin may make whatever requests he likes, and we will certainly consider them. But they will not dictate our actions.”

I hesitated. Under ordinary circumstances, Loki was clever enough to take advantage of a head start. These didn’t seem like ordinary circumstances.

The cords of Odin’s neck bulged. “Which bridge stone? Tell me where you sent him!”

Behind Odin, Thor, more apoplectic than ever, regarded me with barely-restrained fury. Beside Thor, Frigg stared coldly. Lines of grief turned her face far older than her true age.

I just helped the man who killed her son to escape.

A son who may have spent years abusing Loki. Still, I felt vaguely guilty for adding to Frigg’s pain.

Odin took a step toward me, one hand raised.

Before I could even begin to flinch back, Heimdal stepped into Odin’s path, blocking him from me.

“This is not the way, Allfather.”

“She has made it the way. Step aside, Watcher.”

“You tasked me with her guardianship. She is the last of the Alfar.” Nothing resembling affection or real concern colored Heimdal’s voice. He spoke with all his usual business-like lack of emotion. “She is under my protection.”

Odin hesitated. Outright rage receded from his face, tempered by something more calculating.

“She is fast overstaying her welcome,” Odin finally said.

“You don’t mean that.” Heimdal’s posture relented—slightly. His words continued to come in a carefully-modulated tone that walked a line between insistence and respect.

“Yet.” Odin glared over Heimdal’s shoulder at me. “Bivrost. Take us where you sent Loki. Now.”

Despite the pounding of my pulse, irritation again spiked, this time at Odin’s continuing refusal to acknowledge any name but the one he’d given me. Again, I thought of my father’s words.

I do not belong to him.

“Iris. Please do as he says.” Heimdal turned his head only far enough to speak quietly to me. No softness touched his voice, but he at least addressed me by my true name.

Heimdal and Loki. The only two in Asgard who’d ever done so.

I glanced past Heimdal at Odin, and past Odin at Thor. They’d go after Loki, of course, just as soon as I delivered them to the bridge stone I’d used as Loki’s receiving point.

I could, of course, lie.

Trembling, although I still couldn’t tell whether from emotion or from whatever Heimdal had done to me, I stood straighter. I was Alfar. I would fulfill my duties—as if the Aesir intended to give me any other choice. But I would do it with dignity. And on my terms.

I extended my arm, palm up. Odin laid his atop mine with such force that it stung. I managed to avoid flinching.

“Thor. Heimdal. You will accompany me.” Odin spoke without looking away from me.

Immediately—eagerly—Thor stepped up and laid one massive hand on Odin’s shoulder. Heimdal’s hand settled onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing firmly into my flesh.

I opened a way. Asgard’s sentencing ground faded amidst a whirl of colors and a flare of light. The bridge’s darkness swallowed all four of us.

Moments later, a vast plain opened around us, flat with tall but sparse grasses. Cracked earth puffed dust into the air as our feet touched it. Red sky to the west indicated sunset, and the air held immense heat touched by the cool of impending night. The bridge stone in this part of Midgard was basalt, carved with geometries nearly like runes but less sharply-angled.

It was not the bridge to which I’d sent Loki.

As soon as we were through, I broke contact with Odin and stepped away from Heimdal’s lingering grasp. Crossing my arms, I waited for them to go, so that I could—

I could what? My earlier dizziness returned, abruptly. I had no plan whatsoever for what to do next.

“Heimdal.” Odin ignored me, instead scanning the horizons. “Tell us which way he’s gone.”

Heimdal didn’t answer. I glanced his way and found him staring at me. His face revealed nothing of what he was thinking, but renewed anxiety tickled in my stomach as I realized my mistake.

Heimdal’s senses—he’d know Loki was nowhere near here. He knew already that I was misleading them.

Misleading him. That wrenched my heart, but no more than the hard look he directed at me. Or the memory of cold light knocking me to the ground.

Against me. He used his magic against me.

Suddenly, I was scared. The Heimdal I’d thought I’d known, the one with sunshine in his voice and a hint of a smile—that was not the man who stood before me now.

The god who stands before me. He is Aesir, not a man at all.

And his duty was to Asgard.

I thought about fleeing. If I were fast enough, I could draw down the light and be gone before they could stop me. Being in Midgard would make that more difficult—my magic was slower to respond than on Alfheim or even Asgard. Midgard had the least magic of all the worlds.

But if I could manage it—

As if reading my thoughts, Heimdal reached out and clasped his fingers around my wrist. His grip didn’t hurt, but it was as strong as any shackle. And it ensured that wherever I went, he would go with me.

“Heimdal?” Odin had stopped scanning the area and turned toward us again. Beside him, Thor did the same.

“No more misdirection.” Heimdal’s gaze locked onto mine. “Take us to where you really sent him.”

Odin uttered a curse like a snarl and closed the space between him and me. He didn’t wait for me to offer him my hand, this time. He slapped his hand onto my shoulder—and his grip did hurt. Thor crowded up behind him.

“Iris.” Heimdal’s voice sharpened to a dagger’s point. He stared into my eyes as if he could mentally force me. “He is a murderer. Whatever Loki convinced you of before, how can you believe any of his claims now?”

I felt like crying all over again. Under Heimdal’s fierce gaze as much as the pain of Odin’s fingers on my shoulder, my resolve broke. At least, perhaps, I’d bought Loki enough time to get away.

For the third time in less than an hour, I called on the light.

Sturdy gray stone as broad as it was tall sat half-sunken and overgrown in a clearing so small that branches from the surrounding trees reached across the space and brushed leaves against each other. The breeze that stirred those leaves was cool, but it held the promise of coming warmth. Morning light filtered through the shade cast over the stone.

Except for the four of us and the bridge stone, the clearing was empty.

Odin let go of me immediately and turned his attention to peering into the trees. Thor crashed through the short spring grass and plowed toward the trees, searching between them.

Heimdal kept my wrist enclosed very firmly in his hand.

“Heimdal?” Odin’s bark was more command than question.

“Yes.” Heimdal half-closed his eyes and tipped his head. His nostrils flared. He raised his free arm to indicate the side of the clearing opposite the rising sun. “Try that direction first.”

Thor stomped back to the center of the clearing and started the other way. Scowling, Odin headed after him.

“There’s a city.” Heimdal opened his eyes. “You’ll want to be careful.”

Thor only grunted and kept going. Odin stopped and turned back. He narrowed his eyes at Heimdal.

“You’re coming with us.” Odin ignored my presence entirely. “We need your senses to track Loki.”

“You need me watching Bivrost.” Heimdal chose my Asgardian name over my given one, no hesitation in his voice. “To ensure that she returns to Asgard and stays there until you call for her. Loki is here. You’ll find him.”

With Heimdal’s words—and the cold way he spoke them—I realized that Loki had been right about one thing.

Heimdal would always put the Aesir first. One of his duties might be to protect me, but he was not on my side. I was merely another piece of Odin’s property to be guarded and controlled.

For a moment, that odd, calculating expression crossed Odin’s face. He glanced sharply in my direction. Then he scowled and jabbed a finger at me. “You are not to leave Heimdal’s sight. If someone needs you, we will send for you. Go. Now.”

My face warmed.

Odin may make whatever requests he likes.

Heimdal’s grip on my wrist tightened briefly, still not hurting me but most certainly warning me.

Warning me to listen. Warning me to obey. Warning me that I alone acted in defiance of Odin, and if I tried anything else, Heimdal himself would stop me. Ice crept down my spine, not unlike that I’d felt when Heimdal used his magic.

Against me.

The ice didn’t linger, this time. Betrayed anger flushed me clean of it.

Odin followed Thor out of the clearing. I didn’t wait for Heimdal’s permission. With his hand still clasped around my wrist, I opened a bridge to Asgard.