The clock in my study ticked. My refrigerator hummed and then clicked off. I swallowed, trying to force myself to turn around and walk away from the door.

He loves you.

“It’s a trap,” I whispered. “It’s another goddamn trap.”

I closed my eyes and saw Vali, his back straight, his head held high. Vali holding that great, blue sword. Vali walking into the looming darkness of the cave.

With a sigh, I opened my front door. Loki smiled at me in the dim light.

“Come on,” I grumbled. “We can talk.”

I walked to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of Glenlivet and three glasses, and carried them to the living room. I poured three generous servings; if I was going to face Loki again, I at least wanted a stiff drink. I handed out the scotch and sank into my couch without a word. Caroline took a tiny sip while Loki and I both drained our glasses.

“Tell me what you want,” I said as the scotch burned its way down my throat.

Caroline sighed, handing her scotch to Loki. “How much do you know about Norse mythology?” she asked.

I snorted. “You mean, do I know your husband is the God of Lies?”

Loki rolled his eyes; Caroline ignored me. “Do you know about Yggdrasil?” she asked. “The World Tree?”

I shook my head. My Google searching had stopped at Loki. Caroline straightened her back and somehow managed to look professorial, despite the fact that she was sitting on my couch at three in the morning, wearing what might have been pajamas. “According to Norse myth, there’s a great Wyrm named Níðhöggr coiled in the roots of the World Tree.”

“A what?” I asked.

“Dragon,” said Loki, his voice low and cold. “Níðhöggr is a dragon, perhaps the dragon. It lives in the roots of the World Tree, and it has slept for millennia. Now it sleeps no more.”

“Hang on a minute,” I said. I grabbed the Glenlivet off my coffee table and poured myself another glass. After a moment’s hesitation, I refilled Loki’s glass too. He drank it in one swallow and then exhaled jaggedly.

“My son does not trust me,” Loki said. “He would not see me, and he would not speak to me of his plans. We all sensed the Wyrm’s awakening, but now it’s grown stronger, and the entire area is heavily warded. I cannot travel there, not through the aether.”

He paused, and his gaze lingered on the Glenlivet bottle. I poured him another glass, which he drank in one slug.

“And I can no longer sense my son,” he said.

“Wait, what about Diana?” I said. “She’s not exactly your biggest fan. And she said she’d protect Vali. Did she make it so you can’t travel there or, uh, sense him? Is she hiding him?”

Loki shook his head. In the pale light spilling from my kitchen, he looked tired and sad, with strange shadows creasing his lips and the corners of his eyes. “This is not her doing. This magic is older and more powerful than either of us.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “So, there’s a dragon in the roots of the World Tree. But what’s it doing here? In Montana?”

“This is an odd place,” said Loki, rolling his empty glass in his palms. “There are some places where the Nine Realms are far-flung, and there are some places where they are stacked tightly, one against the other. Where the borders between them are thin.”

I leaned forward and poured him another glass of scotch. Odd goods, indeed.

“Thank you,” he said. Then he raised an eyebrow at me. “Didn’t you ever wonder why boiling hot water pours from the ground in this place?”

“Well, that’s because in Yellowstone the earth’s crust is—” I paused.

“Thin?” Caroline asked.

I took a deep breath and decided to just let this debate between science and mythology go. “There’s a...dragon,” I said. “And Vali, what? He went after it? He went to stop it?”

“I don’t know,” Loki said. There was a sharp edge to his voice. He raised his glass to his lips and drained it.

“Look,” I said, “I hate to disappoint you, but it’s not like Vali texts me or anything. I haven’t seen him since November.”

Loki stared at me. For a heartbeat something flashed in his pale eyes, something dark and feral and howling. My stomach clenched painfully, and I turned away, my breath catching in the back of my throat, the words I was about to speak dead in my mouth.

“I saw him,” I said. My voice sounded choked and thin, as if it came from far away. “I dreamt of him. On Christmas Eve. He had a blue sword, and he...He went into a dark place.”

Loki closed his eyes. “So, he’s found Hrotti,” he muttered. “Vali has claimed the ancient sword of heroes.”

I felt cold as I remembered the dark mouth of the cave and the burned tang in the air. “What do we do?” I said.

Loki shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. Caroline wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

“What do we do?” I said again. “You came here for a reason. You want something from me. What do you want?”

For a long time neither of them moved. The refrigerator kicked on again with a hum; the clock ticked softly in my study. Finally, Loki sighed and reached for the Glenlivet. He divided the last of the scotch into our two glasses.

“Take us there,” he said, raising his glass to clink against mine. “Maybe it’s not too late.”

****

I WAS ALMOST TO MY kitchen to make a pot of coffee when something caught my eye. It was a slender, red book, tucked in the far corner of my shelf. The Red Dragon: Reexamining the Subverted Self in Early Medieval Literature. By Barry R. Richardson.

Wondering for the hundredth time why I hadn’t just thrown the damn thing out, I set the empty scotch glasses in the sink and flicked on the coffee maker. The Red Dragon was Barry fucking Richardson’s sixth book, the one he’d dedicated the me. That goddamn book was the reason we had our honeymoon in Wales, where I spent most of my time getting quietly drunk in quaint little pubs while Barry spent all day doing some sort of research in obscure libraries.

I laughed. At first, I tried to hide it, but the more I tried to stop, the harder I laughed, until I finally had to sit down at my kitchen table, my face buried in my arms and my shoulders shaking. When I was finally able to breath without dissolving into giggles, I saw Caroline standing in the doorway with a deeply concerned expression on her pale face.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Oh, fuck,” I said, wiping my eyes on the sleeves of my pajama top. “It’s just...It’s my ex-husband. He would love this.”

For once Caroline looked completely lost. I stood and took the glasses from her hands, putting them in the dishwasher.

“Barry Richardson,” I said. “My ex. He’s a professor at Northwestern. He studies medieval literature. And he just—” I had to stop as my words dissolved into a fit of giggles. “He just loves dragons. I mean, he had a fucking dragon tapestry in his office. He probably still does.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s... funny?”

I snorted another laugh and grabbed a few coffee cups from the cabinet. “It is funny,” I said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

I filled a mug and turned to her.  A bolt of panic shot through my chest. Caroline was hunched over against the counter, her hand pressed to her side and her face contorted in pain.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine.” Her back straightened and she exhaled sharply. “It’s just, uh...” She waved her hand, looking around the kitchen.

“Braxton-Hicks?” I asked.

“That’s right. Just false contractions.” She smiled, but her voice wavered.

I glanced toward the living room. Loki was still sitting on the couch, staring out the darkened windows.

“Listen,” I whispered, “I don’t mean to be insulting, but is there a reason you need to be here? Because the park, right now... it might not be the best place for someone who’s about to have a baby.”

She shook her head. “Vali won’t talk to Loki. But he talked to me. Once. Besides, I’m not due for another—” She gasped and bent over again, hand pressed against her side.

“How far apart are they?” I whispered.

She shook her head. “They’re not... contractions. They’re not consistent.” She stood back up and turned toward the living room, her eyes softening as she stared at Loki. “Do you know how long he’s been looking for Vali?”

“I don’t even want to know,” I said, and I handed her a cup of coffee.