23

Present day

Whatever was going on with Claire, I was suddenly uncertain about how much it had to do with drugs.

Claire whimpered and slapped at me. I realized how hard I was gripping her arm.

“Sorry.” I made an effort to ease my death grip on Claire’s arm. She lowered herself the last couple of feet to the ground and leaned against the scorched alabaster of the bridge stone. In the dewy morning light, her dark makeup seemed even more stark against her wan complexion. She leaned her head beside the stone’s char-encrusted communication crystal and closed her eyes.

I crouched beside Claire and concentrated on the stink of wrongness that clung to her, trying to divine more from it than just a general sense of darkness.

But darkness really did cover it best. A bitterness like an old coffee pot covered a deeper stench like sweat at the bottom of a laundry hamper and the ancient remains of a rodent stuck inside a wall.

Wrong. Dark. Some sort of mortal magic? Claire and her alleged boyfriend were both into the occult. Maybe they’d stumbled across something more potent than at least Claire had realized. I wondered if this guy—Joel—knew what he was doing, or if he was under some foul influence himself.

Claire mumbled. Then she whined, like a dog in pain.

“Joel.” She whispered his name so faintly, I wondered if Claire even realized she’d spoken.

She was still asking for the loser. It was like she had physical withdrawals from this guy, needing to go back to him in a way that was beyond a natural attraction.

“Claire?” Gods. This was so not right. This was like something that—

I leaned back from Claire. Without waiting to see if she answered me, I stood bolt upright. My heart stuttered into my throat.

A dark stink. Like chaos. Like poison.

A split second of dizziness caught me unaware. An odd scent I could classify only as dark tainted the crisp air.

This was like something that Loki would do.

Even though I’d already done it, I turned in place, peering into the burned trees and listening with all my strength.

I’d wondered about Loki during the past six years. I’d sent him to Midgard, after all, in hopes that the poison meant to kill him would allow him to live. Would provide him the opportunity to live with the consequences of his actions. That maybe, away from the gods who constantly inspired him to make bad choices, he’d learn to make better ones. I’d spent my first months in Midgard watching for him. I still wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that I’d never found him.

Maybe he didn’t know I was here, too. Maybe he thought leaving me alone was the better part of friendship.

Or maybe, I thought now… Maybe I simply no longer had anything he needed, so he’d sought out fairer game.

A warning tingled in the back of my mind.

How did I get my magic back?

The prophecy that had finally convinced Odin to drive me out of Asgard altogether stated that Loki would use me to get back at the Aesir. Was Loki toying with Claire and her boyfriend?

Or had Loki been lurking around and watching me?

Despite being home in Alfheim again, a headache threatened, this one confusion-induced as much as anything.

I have my magic. Heimdal will want to take it back. Loki will want to use it. Nothing confusing about that.

The only solution was to stay away from both of them until I figured out what to do next.

Claire whined again, a sound that set all the hairs on the back of my neck to standing on end.

“He has powers of his own, Loki does. He spreads his chaotic influence like a poison into the minds of those who are susceptible.”

Loki’s powers, as with all gods, would be weaker in Midgard, at least. That was why I’d sent him here to begin with—Odin’s poison would be weaker here, and thus not kill Loki.

With a sinking heart, the impact of my long-ago decision hit me.

I had sent Loki to Midgard. And he, yet again, had obviously chosen to throw away the chance I’d given him to make better decisions this time. And if Loki was even indirectly responsible for Claire’s boyfriend drugging her, then I was, too.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe Loki wasn’t responsible at all.

But nausea clutched my gut as I crouched beside Claire again and laid my fingertips against her throat.

Claire’s pulse beat unevenly. At my touch, she opened her eyes. Her pupils were still enlarged.

Or maybe I’m imagining it all. Making it all about me, when Claire is the one in trouble—and possibly that’s my fault. This could as easily be a concussion as anything else.

“Iris? I’m feeling kind of… not great.”

“It’s going to be OK.” Was it? I told her like I meant it anyhow.

I glanced again around the clearing. No sign of Loki or anyone else—of course not. Who else could get here? The sense of darkness—of chaos—that swirled around Claire seemed to ebb and eddy, but it never grew any stronger. So if Loki was involved, then maybe he hadn’t been too close by. Maybe he didn’t know exactly where we were now.

Or maybe, again, it was all in my imagination, and Claire only had a concussion. Or was suffering from a drug overdose.

I can’t afford to make assumptions right now.

But I was right about one thing. Claire was in trouble.

“Do you have a headache?” I tried to remember the symptoms of a concussion. Drug overdoses, I knew less than nothing about.

“No.” Claire’s face scrunched in concentration. “Yes? No. Just dizzy.”

“Sleepy?”

“Maybe. A little?”

Alarm and more than a little frustration tingled along my nerves. I wished, abruptly and with surprising strength, that Heimdal was here. That I could turn to him. Because if Loki was involved—or even if this was just the work of some mortal freak—there was one god whose specialization was situations just like Claire’s. One god whose entire reason for being was all about protecting people.

He was also the last person I could turn to right now.

Think, then. Think.

“I should’ve picked up some hudar capsules.” Claire sounded a little less out of it.

I still had no idea what she’d said. “What?”

“Ayurvedic medicine.” Claire scooted around until she sat more upright. “There are these seeds with—”

I inhaled sharply. Of course.

“Iris?” Claire glanced around, maybe looking for whatever I’d gasped at.

I hadn’t seen anything, though, except in my mind’s eye—my father’s bookshelves lined with leather bound tomes which were in turn filled with careful drawings and notes. Willow, droning on about all he’d learned but I hadn’t as we weeded Papa’s herb gardens.

Papa’s herb gardens.

“I have a thought.” I glanced around the clearing, peering into the shadows beneath the trees. “But you have to tell me, what else did you take?”

“What?”

“Your jerk boyfriend slipped you something. What else did you take last night?”

Claire sat up straighter yet. She leaned unsteadily forward, frowning. “Hey, I’m all about deregulating, but I’m not stupid.”

No signs in the tall grass of the tell-tale pale blossoms I wanted. I stood up and walked nearer the clearing’s edge.

I didn’t want to have to go beyond them. I wanted to find the plant I looked for here, without having to look beyond the trees.

Behind me, Claire kept talking. She sounded less befuddled by the second, her voice picking up strength. “I don’t eat meat, and I keep my body de-toxed. Just because I’m getting in touch with my spirit doesn’t mean I don’t take care of my physical self, too.”

“All right. Sorry.” I kept circling the clearing. “It was a purely medicinal question. You don’t have any idea what this stuff was that Joel gave you?”

“I know he thought I’d like it.” Claire’s tone grew more strident. “He cares about me. He wouldn’t do anything to deliberately hurt me.”

I stopped looking and turned to face Claire. She was still sitting, but a child-like pout had settled onto her face. “Whether he meant to or not, obviously he did.”

Unless Claire’s real issue was a concussion. In which case, I was the person who hadn’t intended to hurt her but had.

“You have to look out for yourself, Claire.” I went back to treading carefully through the tall grass, its tops tickling my wrists as I parted them and peered into their depths.

A nasty urge to simply take Claire back to Midgard and dump here there struck me. She’d no longer be my problem, and I could…

I had no idea what I would do after that. Heimdal and Loki were both in Midgard. Both possibly looking for me. I had no real idea if one or both of them could follow me here to Alfheim or not.

Claire didn’t reply. When I glanced her way, she was slumped against the bridge stone, looking about as defeated as a person could look.

First, I owed it to Claire to make sure she was healthy. Then, with a clear conscience, I could send her home. And start to think about what I would do.

“He just…” Claire sighed. “He makes me feel better when he’s around. I don’t want to lose him.”

With a sigh of my own, I reminded myself that Claire wasn’t a bad person. Just misguided, maybe. Arguing with her right now wasn’t really the right tack. “I’m sorry. I know how that feels.”

I’d said it just to make Claire feel better. But as soon as the words were out, a pang of grief and loneliness sharper than any I’d felt in years sliced through me.

Loki and Heimdal both had betrayed me, despite how much I’d cared about them. Despite how I’d thought they cared about me. I did know how Claire felt. All too well.

Silence. Then, after a second, Claire asked, “What are you looking for?”

“I know of something that might help. My father was an apothecary. He grew it in his gardens. At home.”

So why aren’t you looking there? Nothing else would have survived the fire, but even a few seeds left behind in the ashes could have taken root.

I stopped search the clearing and stood up straight. With the rising sun at my back, I peered into the new growth forest. Through the close-growing trees, I could see very little, but I knew what lay that direction, just the same. A razed city. The ruins of my past life.

I didn’t want to go there. But I didn’t seem to have much choice.

“We need to take a little hike. Do you think you can manage it?”