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  "You're crazy Loki. How can you be so driven by greed and ambition that you can't see how much you're hurting your family?"

  "They are not my family," Loki said, his tone emotionless, as if he'd resigned himself to being a black sheep, the outcast.

  I snorted. "You're so blind." I wanted to say that he was also stupid but there was no sense in antagonizing him. Not that I was afraid of being beaten. I just wanted to bide my time until I found a way out of this hellhole.

  Suddenly, Loki launched himself out of his chair and I almost flinched. A glance at the bags confirmed they were empty. The first frost giant stepped toward the bags, swiftly swapping them out with fresh ones. Thor's blood now ran within Loki's veins, mixed into a potent soup with my own blood. My stomach tightened. I was not looking forward to watching Loki succeed when he tried his hand at using the spear.

  My eyelids drooped and I must have slipped into unconsciousness because when I opened my eyes again the bags were empty. Loki tugged the needle from his arm and dropped it on the straw covered floor. Then he pressed the opening in his flesh a few times until it closed. Even if Loki was not a real god of the Aesir, he did possess the power to self-heal.

  Then he dusted his hands together and smiled. "Well, my dear sister. The moment of truth has arrived. Gungnir will be the proof to my claim."

  "What claim?" I asked, my tone too sharp but I didn't care too much now. I'd already accepted I'd get little more from Loki now that he thought he had the means to use the spear. There was only one thing that I could think of that Loki would want to claim.

  Odin's seat as the God of Gods, the All-Father.

  Loki hooked his thumbs into his belt and laughed, the sound echoing around us. "Wait and see, dear sister." Loki looked over my head, his attention falling on someone beside me. He gave a nod, and the ice in his eyes made my stomach harden.

  Although I twisted in my seat, trying to look over my shoulder, I didn't get to see who stood behind me.

  Something hard connected with my skull, the blow so powerful I passed out almost instantly. In the brief moment before the darkness claimed me, I swore to punch Loki in the face the first chance I got.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The first thought in my mind when I came to was how furious Joshua would be with me if he only knew what I'd gotten myself into. It was totally my own fault because I shouldn't have come alone, shouldn't have left without telling someone besides the potentially traitorous Derek where I was headed.

  Blinking slowly, I could feeling every pain-filled movement of the muscles in my eyes. I tried to turn my head but a blinding pain flared in the right side of my skull. I sucked in a breath then gasped at the hot moistness of blood as it trickled back into my hair.

  I was lying flat on my back, and could feel nausea well in my throat. Stiffening, I knew it was in my best interests to sit up, or at least move onto my side, or I'd puke all over myself.

  As much as I hated puking, and it was very much not an option when my head pounded like someone was taking a jackhammer to it. I groaned and turned onto my side, feeling the agony in my scalp reverberate into my skull, beating incessantly until my ears rang like a dozen church bells.

  Despite the pain, I had to get myself upright. I tensed, hundreds of small muscles in my wings tensing with me. I expected to feel the thin golden rope holding me in its tight embrace but there were no bindings. I was free to move about, free to stand up.

  If I could do either without passing out again.

  I inhaled slowly and smelled dirt, and mustiness. No straw and rotting onions. Shadows veiled the room from my pained eyes, steeping the place in a murky darkness. Tightening the muscles in my arms, I lifted myself up into a sitting position.

  And for the first time noticed I wasn't alone.

  A young woman, slim, tall and platinum blond, sat on a pile of blankets beside me, her back to the dirt wall. Her long gray-brown skirts were dotted with hundreds of stains, and her unshod feet lay curled up beside her. Around our pallets of old blankets, the floor of the room was made up of fine dry sand. The walls surrounding us were marked by snaking roots, some hanging into the room near the ceiling and the outer walls.

  The girl's large gray eyes widened when she saw I was awake. She scrambled forward lightning fast, to steady me. "Be careful. They hit you very hard." She remained beside me, as if afraid I'd topple over any second. She was probably right.

  I almost nodded but felt the pull of spiking pain in my scalp and ended up whispering my thanks and blinking blearily at my surroundings.

  We were in a hole in the earth, probably the storm cellar Derek had mentioned. As I searched the walls I made out the vague shape of a set of rickety wooden stairs leading up to a door. Light surged in through space near the floor, striking on specks of dust that floated above our heads.

  When my vision finally steadied, I shifted my gaze to my quiet companion. "Who are you?" I whispered. Her skin was tight and strained at her eyes, and too pale to be healthy. She seemed startled at the sound of my voice and I guessed I'd disturbed her thoughts, whatever they'd been they didn't seem happy ones.

  She gave me half a smile. "Sorry. I've been here a long time and the only visitors I've had haven't been . . . kind." She ran her hands up her arms in a loose hug, the stance protective enough to make my stomach tighten. What had Loki done to her? She cleared her throat, straightened her spine and drew my attention back to her face as she smiled. "My name is Nita, Daughter of Vanya." She gave me a regal nod and the action didn't surprise me at all now that I knew who she was.

  I shifted on my blankets knowing I should be giving her a much more respectful greeting than my blurry stare, when Nita said, "Don't you even think about moving. Have a drink of water and then you should lie down for a while." She inclined her head, her platinum hair falling over her shoulders, to her hips like a pearly waterfall. A note in her voice told me that it was best for me to listen. I didn't have any plans on disobeying Elf royalty.

  She handed me a cup of water, the plastic cracked along the side. Sipping the cool liquid slowly, I brought my racing heartbeat back under control. My head tipped forward and then I found Nita unwrapping my fingers from the cup and helping me to lay back onto the blankets. I remained unmoving for a while, trying to stop my mind from wondering who'd lain here before me or what the odd, yeasty odor was that rose from the blankets beneath me.

  I cleared my throat and the movement made me wince. "Where are we? I assume a basement of some sort?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

  "Yes, it's the cellar beneath the main cottage, about fifty yards from the barn they found you in."

  "Is Loki still around?" I asked. All I wanted to know was if the blood transfusion had worked.

  "No," she said, falling silent for a moment. "He left in a fury. I think whatever he has been trying to do had not worked. There was a bit of screaming and stamping and then he left."

  I shook my head. "Poor Loki had a tantrum, did he?" I laughed softly. I was more than elated that his plan failed. He'd gone off somewhere to work off his frustrations. Good thing he had neither Thor nor Vanya to take them out on.

  But he'd had someone right here. I glanced over at Nita. "Did he hurt you?"

  The elf shook her head. "No. He knows I am too valuable. Especially since he has plans to get my mother back."

  "She's safe in Asgard," I offered her the information somehow knowing she didn't need it.

  "I know, and thank you, Brynhildr. I owe you a great deal."

  I frowned. "How do you know who I am?" I let my head fall to the side and stared at her. She sat with her back against the far wall.

  "The floorboards are thin," she said with a crooked smile as she pointed to the wooden ceiling.

  I laughed softly, the sound coming out more of a snort than one of amusement. Then fatigue drew its numbing arms around me and led me into unconsciousness.

  When I opened my eyes, my gut was screaming that I was in deep trouble. And suddenly I missed Jos
hua with an incredible intensity. All I wanted was to have his arms around me, making me feel safe. And then I blinked at the burn in my eyes, refusing to feel sorry for myself.

  Blinking, I rubbed my eyes, scraping away the grogginess of sleep, while at the same time searching for Nita within the webbed shadows. With the encroaching shadows going from limp gray to opaque obsidian, I was sure late night had drawn over the cottage while I'd been out for the count.

  I found the elf standing with her back to the far corner, her concentration focused on nowhere. She was eerily still, not even a hint of breathing in her unmoving chest. An invisible breeze tugged at the tendrils of pale hair that now fell along the sides of her face.

  A sudden gust of the same breeze buffeted the elf, and I accepted that I was witness to something incredible. A summoning of power of some kind. Though curious, I held my tongue.

  Then, I felt the fullness of my bladder with a sudden urgency. Damn, I should not have drank all that water. Even Valkyries have bodily functions that often showed themselves mainly in order to inconvenience said Valkyrie.

  I sighed and tried to focus.

  A chuckle rose from Nita's corner, followed closely by her voice. "I do apologize. Communing with all elements of nature often lends me the power to hear thoughts of those nearby."

  My eyes widened. She'd heard my crude thoughts. Not good.

  Then she laughed again. "They are a mere fact of nature, Brynhildr. You need not be embarrassed. Nature makes her call even on elves." She winked and pointed to the corner behind me, the one beneath the stairs, its shadows even darker than the rest of the room. "There is a pail and a toilet of sorts. I have tried to maintain it as clean and hygienic as possible."

  I got to my feet and gave her a grateful nod. She seemed to have the strangest ability to make me feel calm and collected. And even when I felt the urgent pull of action, I also knew that patience often out-won a mad dash into the arms of danger.

  I headed into the toilet under the stairs and saw that Nita must have communed with nature here too. A curtain of dried grass hung from the edge of the stairs, growing right out of the seemingly dead wood. The curtain afforded privacy and I wondered who'd kept Nita company that she'd felt the need to provide such privacy.

  Inside, the packed dirt was gone, replaced by a narrow stretch of soft grass. On the end near the foot of the stairs, another long curtain hung from the stairs and when I pushed it aside I found it hid the toilet setup. Two fat boulders sat on the one end, topped with three wooden planks roped tightly together. A hole had been burned into the center of the board to fashion a makeshift toilet seat.

  Ingenious.

  Beneath the seat sat a squat bucket, the kind used in Asgard, made entirely of wood. I didn't need to guess what purpose it served.

  I used the facilities then washed my hands using a bucket filled with water. Beside the bucket a small wooden bowl contained soap, a sponge and a washcloth. I soaped and washed my hands then wiped them on the seat of my pants as I returned to the elf.

  She was now seated on her pallet, her legs crossed as if she was about to head into deep meditation. The folds of her long skirt fell in waves around her collecting in puddles on the blanket. A very peaceful prisoner.

  "I am not a prisoner," she said with a stiff smile as she shifted in her seat, making space for me to land beside her. "I stay because I know my mother's safety is in jeopardy. The truth is I can leave at any moment, and the truth is I often do. I have the ability to gather the elements and create a shade. This image remains behind, giving the guards the impression that I am still here. Giving me the chance to find a way to free my mother."

  Her words elated me. "That's awesome. Then you can get us out of here?"

  She shook her head and my hopes crashed and burned. "I can't get you out of here. My power does not function like the Bifrost. It is more like a melding with the elements."

  And I understood what she meant. Only she could travel out of the basement to freedom. I would have to fight my way out. "That's fine. Do you have an idea of how many guards are up there?"

  "Three. One in the house, one for the Bifrost and one who covers for both of them."

  I shook my head and laughed as it clicked. "He chose this place because of the location of the Bifrost landing."

  Nita nodded. "I do believe so. He was quite eloquent of his ability to draw you to him. 'Like a magnet,' he said."

  "He's lucky I came. I don't usually do the recons." I laughed again, this time totally without amusement.

  As I got to my feet she asked. "Then why did you come?"

  I shrugged. "Maybe I want Loki too badly."

  Nita's eyes went wide. "You are in love-"

  "No." I giggled at the thought. "I want him so I can kill him. Definitely not kiss him." My lips twisted at the thought. "There was a time I thought the trickster god was attractive, when a series of popular movies had portrayed him as a sexy, troubled brother and son, a time that lasted five minutes when I finally came face-to-face with the real deal. Sure, he'd been handsome. But when he turns into a salivating wolf, or a crazed falcon, he tends to lose his attraction very quickly."

  Nita laughed softly, the sound tinkling in my ears and strangely enough, echoing inside my head. "That does sum him up quite nicely." The elf cleared her throat. "Brynhildr, I will stay with you. There is no need for you to fight them alone."

  I faced the elf and studied her features. "Thank you, Nita. But you really don't need to. I am good with my sword."

  Nita lifted her chin. "But I think two against three are better odds."

  "Okay. Let's get up there. Before we leave I have to find my spear. I'm hoping Loki would have left it behind if the blood didn't help him use it."

  She gave me a swift smile then moved to the stairs.

  I touched her on her arms and said, "Bryn." When Nita faced me, a frown of confusion creasing her forehead, I said, "All my friends call me Bryn."

  She flashed a smile, clasped my arm and gave it a squeeze. "Let's go get him."

  I gave a nod and tiptoed up the stairs, watching the faint edge of light that seeped in under the door. At the top of the stairs, I paused, placing my ear to the door.

  "The room is empty," said Nita. "The guard is outside. Perhaps relieving one of the other two. They take turns to watch, with one going for supplies and communicating with Loki."

  I nodded. Then tried the handle of the door to the kitchen.

  It refused to budge.

  I sighed then slammed into it, shoulder first. But the door was made of sterner stuff, and I was still weakened from being drained of all my blood.

  As I leaned against the wall, Nita stepped past me. "Here, let me try," she whispered as she bent an eye to the lock. Then she pressed her hands against the wood and closed her eyes. And the door began to darken, as if an invisible flame burned, turning the solid wood to charcoal.

  Then she raised her fist and slammed it into the door, sending shattered pieces of coal flying into the kitchen, flooding the stairs with brightness. Nita glanced at me, a happy grin on her face.

  I gave her a thumbs up then followed as she entered the kitchen.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The kitchen was small and simple, its most remarkable feature an old outer door, whose water-logged slats let in lines of light. The old over-sized fridge clunked loudly, and a set of cupboards on the far wall revealed their not so meager stores. From the packets of fried chips, and plastic-wrapped cream cakes it seemed frost giants liked their junk food.

  Sunlight streamed into the kitchen from a large white-paned window, filling the room with rays that made sparkling fairies of dancing dust-motes.

  We passed through the silent room and I followed Nita as she entered the passage leading to the other rooms within the house. Given her ability to sense people, she was in no immediate danger.

  The passage was steeped in darkness, and disorienting as I moved from the light-filled kitchen to dense shadows. Nita paused to point at
the door on our right which let through shards of brightness, the slivers stabbing their way through the gaps in the slats of the roughly hewn door.

  I nodded and slipped out a short knife from the sheath in my boot, then nudged the door open with my knuckle, fingers tightly grasping its hilt, blade at the ready just in case. Nita had proclaimed the place empty but it never hurt to be too careful.

  The door squealed, the high pitch scraping my eardrums, making me want to respond with an equally high-toned, frustrated groan. I glanced at Nita and she merely offered a regal nod. The door slowed and I pushed it further with my elbow until it stood wide open. The bare room glared back at me, its large windows bracketed by yellowed, tattered curtains that looked held together by wishes and angels.

  The view outside into the yard was marred by smudges and stains, having not been cleaned in what looked like decades. The obscured windows served to give the room a dusty, closed in air.

  Perfect for Loki.

  A large double-bed, a four-poster of all things, sat near the window, complete with dust-ridden burgundy drapes, tied back and revealing a few dust bunnies and a scattering of straw.

  A glint of weak sunlight on gold drew my gaze to the table beside the window. And the sight of a golden spear.

  Gungnir.

  A rush of relief torrented through me. The table was large, the size of which made me wonder if Nita would have found a dining room bare of its table. The surface of dark mahogany was barely visible, with almost every inch of it covered by papers and books. Despite my relief at seeing my old friend Gungnir again, I didn't just rush at it.

  Loki had had plenty of time to mess with the spear. Considering his blood transfusion plan had failed I knew how pissed off he's likely to be. I wouldn't put it past him to booby-trap Gungnir so that I'd end up losing either my hand or my life, whichever the god preferred. I was dealing with a god, magic would not be beyond his ability. All the more reason to tread with care.

  I inched forward carefully, arriving silently at the side of the table.