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  For the first time, Mist had lost one of “her” Treasures to her enemy. And all she’d gotten in return was Dainn.

  She had no idea what she was going to do with him. Or how she was going to get Sleipnir back.

  17

  “Daughter,” Freya said, coming up behind her. Her voice had deteriorated to an almost ugly rasp, and her eyes were couched in deep shadow. She had never looked so ghastly.

  “I have no idea … why I was unable to prevail against these frost giants,” she said with a meekness Mist had never seen in her before.

  “I saw you take several out,” Mist said, torn between an instinctive desire to comfort her mother and the repulsive memory of Dainn’s claim: “She told me to kill.”

  Kill Danny. Didn’t that explain his fear of Freya’s intentions for the boy? Hadn’t Mist herself always wondered if Freya might have seen Danny on the steppes?

  Ask her now, Mist told herself. But how did she expect Freya to answer? Why would the Lady admit to knowing Danny at all, let alone to wanting him dead?

  There had to be another way of learning the truth. And in the meantime, Mist knew that she couldn’t allow her suspicions, no matter how terrible, to cloud her thinking.

  “You know what happened to you during the protest?” she asked.

  “Bryn explained,” Freya said, a little faintly. “I had thought myself recovered.”

  “You’ll have to go back and rest, as long as it takes.”

  “But we must recover the horse.”

  “When we’ve recouped and made a decent plan, yes.”

  Freya pushed a lock of lank, dull hair away from her face. “Loki will be bolder than ever. He will attempt to take the other Treasures in your keeping. How will you defend yourself?”

  “Loki used tricks and illusions to keep me from getting here soon enough,” Mist said, deciding to keep the explanations simple. “He’s also got Regin and Skuld captive and serving as ‘entertainment’ for his mortal cronies, and they weren’t doing it of their own free will.” She took a long breath. “He’s been using a Hel of a lot of magic, and I’m betting he won’t find it easy to keep Sleipnir. As for our defenses, I’ll be sending out a call for more allies, as I should have done long ago.”

  “That is wise,” Freya said. Her expression softened. “Perhaps you are learning.”

  “I never wanted to learn this.” She looked up at the sky, stormy as always but clear of wards or any signs of magic. “While you rest, I’ll meet with my council and figure out our next move. At least we can be pretty sure that Loki will want Sleipnir close at hand, so he’s not likely to—”

  Before she could finish, six motorcycles and two SUVs pulled into the weedy parking lot. A dozen elves jumped out of one of the trucks while the bikers pulled to a stop a few feet from Mist and Freya.

  “Where’s the fight?” Roadkill asked, his gaze sweeping the lot. “Are we too—”

  He subsided as several of the elves joined those who mourned over their fallen, and after a moment the Alfar carried the dead to the SUV. The bikers with Roadkill maintained a respectful silence.

  Captain Taylor jumped out of the other SUV with four of his best fighters, all armed with swords and axes. He looked hard at Freya, who walked away. Not glided, not floated, but merely walked, her footsteps heavy on the asphalt.

  “We just found out that Freya left camp with some of her elves,” Taylor said, watching the goddess with a slight frown deepening the creases between his eyes. “One of the bikers heard that they were coming here. I don’t understand why she didn’t alert us.”

  “She says she wasn’t sure if there would actually be an attack,” Mist said, well aware of how odd the explanation must sound. “Had Konur returned when you left?”

  “No. Was there a problem at the party?”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I’ll fill you in when we’re back at camp. Did you meet a young man named Ryan, by any chance?”

  Taylor shook his head. “New recruit?”

  “Not exactly new.” She passed her hand over her face and told Taylor about Sleipnir. He was too well disciplined to swear in her presence.

  “How did they find him?” he asked. “Do you believe that someone in our camp betrayed the location?”

  “That, or Loki found it on his own. Either possibility is bad news.”

  “How did the Jotunar get the horse away?”

  “They didn’t. Loki sent some kind of animal to—”

  Sweet Baldr, she thought. Some kind of huge, black, predatory …

  “Animal?” Taylor prompted.

  “I think Loki may have managed to get one of his other offspring across one of the bridges from Ginnungagap,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “Fenrir. It’s possible it was another manifestation like Jormungandr—”

  She broke off again, wondering when she might discover how not to be an idiot. Who created the manifestations? A certain small boy who was much older than he appeared. The boy she might or might not have seen in the garage when she was fighting the elf who had seen her as a threat to that same child.

  Danny had seemed deeply attached to Sleipnir on the steppes. Gods knew what Loki might have told Danny about Sleipnir’s current situation.

  But even a manifestation as real and dangerous as Jormungandr had been would find it difficult to make off with Odin’s horse.

  “—but I don’t believe it was,” she finished.

  “So now we have to look for another possible traitor and contend with a giant wolf,” Taylor said, rubbing the pommel of his sword with his thumb. “Anything else?”

  “Oh, we don’t get off that easy. We lost this fight in part because Freya isn’t recovered from whatever happened to her at the protest.”

  “She looks like shit,” Vixen said, coming to join them.

  Mist and Taylor followed the biker woman’s gaze. Freya was staring out into the marsh for all the world like any ordinary Midgardian contemplating her own mortality.

  “Let’s get back to HQ,” Mist said, herding them away from the subject of Freya’s health. “It’s time for another council of war.”

  A war Loki had just taken another step toward winning.

  * * *

  “Where is my son?”

  Loki struck at the Jotunn kneeling before him, knocking him to the ground and setting the giant’s hair alight with a fire spell. The Jotunn began to wail in pain and fear, unable to move his hands to put out the fire.

  “How did they enter?” Loki snarled, bending over the writhing giant. “The whole place stinks of Alfar. Who among you admitted them?”

  “No one, my lord,” Hymir said, kneeling with the others in the small meeting room. “We do not know how they got in.”

  “They killed twenty of my best fighters,” Loki said. He snapped his fingers, and the small flames in the Jotunn’s hair went out. “Freya was here, and now my son is missing.”

  The smell of singed flesh set some of the Jotunar to coughing, but they quickly swallowed the noise. Only Vali had the courage to speak up again.

  “None of us could have expected Freya to use Mist’s impersonation as a distraction to raid the house,” he said.

  Loki barely restrained himself from breaking Vali’s jaw. Freya’s clever little plot was the least of his concerns. Among all the various plans he had made to detain Mist at the reception, not one had accounted for the actual presence of his son. Danny was to have appeared only as an illusion, a shape worn by Loki to deceive and provoke. Yet Danny had teleported himself to the hotel, though he should have been completely unaware of what was happening there.

  His bond with Dainn, Loki thought. The elf hadn’t known that Loki had expected him to become the beast again. Perhaps Danny had felt his father’s anguish, even from across the city.

  And he had calmed the beast. He might even have helped Dainn resist the spells that should have given Loki better control of the beast during the encounter in the garage.

  “I�
��m sure the kid’s all right,” Vali said. “Miss Jones says he was already back here before you returned from the reception. He would have seen the danger when Freya and the Alfar showed up. He could have escaped without thinking to warn anyone. And Freya probably only came for the Treasures.”

  “She always meant to kill Danny,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “He may already be—”

  To his astonishment, his voice broke. Danny gone. Dainn as well. Mistake after mistake. Even Loki could find no excuse for his own stupidity.

  “The Treasures are still here,” he said, mastering his rage. “And even if Danny avoided Freya, he could have gone seeking Dainn, and still ended up in her hands.”

  “But Mist tried to protect Danny, not hurt him. Do you think she’d let Freya do anything to him?”

  “If Freya was powerful enough to breach my wards and kill my men, then she can—”

  Take Mist’s soul, he completed silently. In spite of what he’d said to Dainn, he had never dismissed the possibility that Mist’s powers might significantly increase Freya’s own.

  Danny had to be found, and quickly. But there was one other place he might be. He had been most anxious to be reunited with his half-brother.

  “Why have I not heard of Sleipnir?” Loki demanded of the cowering Jotunar. When no one answered, he called the leader of the Jotunar sent with Fenrir to capture Odin’s Steed. Just as the call was about to default to voice mail, the giant answered.

  “My lord?” The voice was raspy and faint, as if its owner was in pain.

  “Have you seen Danny?” Loki asked.

  “Danny?”

  Loki cursed. “Where is Grer?”

  “Dead.” The giant coughed. “My lord, did you not receive our—”

  “I received nothing,” Loki said with deadly calm. “Is Sleipnir taken?”

  “Fenrir was riding him, when we—” The Jotunn coughed again. “Mist came, but the Sow and her offspring did not succeed in stopping us.”

  So someone had guessed Loki’s plans. Mist must have moved very quickly to get to the hidden stable in time to fight.

  But Freya had been there. Even she could not be in two places at once. Without the Lady’s direct participation, her Alfar could not have broken into Loki’s mansion.

  Who else could have done it?

  “Inform me immediately if you see my son,” Loki said, and ended the call. “Hymir, send all available men to watch Mist’s camp and loft. If Danny is there with Dainn, I must know immediately.”

  “They won’t be able to keep him if he wants to leave,” Vali said as the Jotunn hurried out.

  Loki shot him a poisonous glance. “I wonder if you had anything to do with this, Odin’s-son. You and Edvard both knew of my plans, and now Edvard is gone. Traitor to one, traitor to all.”

  Vali seemed unperturbed by the accusation. “If you think that,” he said, “why have you trusted me all this time?”

  “Watch your insolence.” He regarded the kneeling Jotunar with contempt. “Return to your posts. Vali, take two men and—”

  Panting heavily, Fenrir slunk into the room, muzzle almost touching the floor. Loki strode toward him, and the Wolf rolled onto his back, belly exposed.

  “Where is Sleipnir?” Loki demanded.

  “Danny took him,” Fenrir whined.

  Loki closed his eyes. “How?” he asked.

  “With magic. I could not stop him.”

  It was far from the worst news Loki could have received. He restrained himself from punishing Fenrir, as tempted as he was.

  “Where have they gone?” he asked.

  Fenrir sniffled. “I don’t know. Please, Father…”

  Loki turned his back on his son. “They may have gone to Mist,” he said. “Hymir, send your men. We will find them.”

  * * *

  With one of the surviving Alfar’s help, Freya climbed into the SUV. Mist mounted the borrowed motorcycle and pulled out of the lot, the other bikers behind her. They took their time getting home in order to spare the injured Alfar, but she was hardly aware of the drive. There were far too many thoughts crowding her mind.

  She knew how Loki had arranged to distract her from finding out about his attack on the stable, but why had he decided to go for it now? Because he’d believed that Freya might be incapacitated, or because he’d managed to summon Fenrir and knew he had a new advantage of surprise and strength? Had Danny been involved?

  Maybe all of the above, she thought, sending the bike roaring ahead in a burst of speed. She was convinced that the “real” Danny had been at the party some of the time. But she didn’t think he’d come at Loki’s behest. And when he’d touched Dainn and stopped the beast …

  Her mind shifted to thoughts of Regin and Skuld. If she’d had her way, she’d have taken some pretty big risks to rescue them. But that would mean raiding Loki’s headquarters, and that simply wasn’t possible. As much as it disturbed her, she couldn’t help them until the chance came to do it without destroying the allies’ other plans.

  Then there was Ryan. Mist leaned low over the handlebars, feeling the wind tear at her gown. He was back, he still had his abilities, and he’d warned Freya that something might happen with Sleipnir.

  Freya. Did she really want to hurt Danny? Was it because he was Loki’s son, and she was desperate to gain some new advantage over Loki? She was failing even faster now, lending Konur’s advice about finding a new body an unpalatable urgency.

  And as Freya grew weaker, Mist found herself drawing on the ancient magic again, almost losing herself as she had so many times before.

  Dainn would probably sense what she’d done as soon as she saw him again. What in Hel was she going to do with him?

  Her grim thoughts had just trailed off into a tangled knot of emotion when she found herself pulling onto Illinois. To her surprise, she found Ryan standing on the sidewalk in front of the loft, his body illuminated by the streetlights. Bryn was also waiting. She ran up to Mist’s bike as soon as she pulled up to the curb, the other bikes and cars rolling to a haphazard stop behind her.

  “Where’s Freya?” Bryn asked.

  There was genuine fear in Bryn’s voice. Since she’d begun working with Freya, she’d seemed not only protective but more a “daughter” to the Lady than Mist had ever been. Or wanted to be.

  “She’s in the SUV,” Mist said, the tattered remnants of her slinky dress flapping around her as she dismounted. “She’s all right, but she pushed herself too hard. You’ll have to make her rest.”

  “And Sleipnir?” Bryn said, glancing toward the SUV.

  “Gone.”

  Bryn cursed and, without another word, hurried off to help Freya out of the SUV. Mist turned to the teenager waiting nervously a few feet away.

  “Ryan,” she said.

  He nearly jumped into her arms, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She gave him a quick hug and set him back.

  “You’ve changed,” she said. And he had. He’d filled out some, gotten a little taller, and cut his hair. His clothes were new. He almost looked like the rich kid he actually was, now that he’d presumably claimed his aunt’s inheritance.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his stubbled chin. “Feels like I’ve been gone a lot longer than nine months.” He looked at Mist from under his straight, pale brows. “You dyed your hair.”

  “It’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

  Ryan licked his lips nervously. “You mad that I came back?”

  “I’m mad that you left without explaining why.”

  “I’m sorry. I … there was something I had to do.”

  “I gather it had something to do with your inheritance,” she said, looking quickly over her shoulder at the Alfar carefully removing their dead from the SUV.

  “Something like that,” Ryan said. He stared at Freya as Bryn and Konur helped her hobble into the loft, and then quickly dropped his gaze. “I missed everyone. And I don’t have those seizures anymore.”

  “No?”
>
  “They just stopped. Maybe it’s my age.”

  “But you still have the visions. Freya told me how you warned her.”

  He shifted with obvious unease. “It was sort of sudden, or I would have waited for you to come back.” He glanced around. “What happened to Sleipnir?”

  “He was taken by Loki.”

  “I’m sorry. If I’d only—”

  Mist cut him off with a slice of her hand. “I assume that Gabi filled you in on everything you missed.”

  “Yes,” he said, staring at the ground. “I’m really sorry about Eir. I know she was a good person.”

  “She knew what she was getting into,” Mist said quietly. “Are you sticking around? You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

  “I still can’t always see what’s going to happen, or be sure the visions are accurate,” Ryan said, nearly tripping over his words. “If I could, I might have known for sure that Loki would get Sleipnir.”

  “I understand. No one expects you to read the future, unless that’s what you want to do.”

  She hesitated, wondering how much of that was a lie. Could the allies ignore his ability to see major events just before they happened, even if there was a chance the visions might be wrong or distorted?

  “I’m sorry to cut this off,” she said, deferring the question, “but we have to—”

  “I saw Dainn,” Ryan said, his voice strained. “He’s a prisoner, isn’t he?”

  “You know he went over to Loki?”

  “There had to be a good reason. You don’t know why he did what he did. Maybe it was for someone else. Whatever anyone says, he’d never turn evil, like Loki.”

  Studying Ryan closely, Mist wondered if he knew something. Knew, as in “saw.” And if he would tell her.

  “No matter why he did it, his beast is still alive,” she said. “And it’s dangerous as Hel.”

  Ryan’s lower lip trembled. She almost felt like bawling herself.

  “Can I see him?” Ryan asked.

  “Not now. After I’ve finished questioning him, we’ll have to keep him in isolation indefinitely.” She blew out her breath. “I assume you’ve found a place to sleep.”