Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (26 page)

Nod looked at her thoughtfully, then he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I like this body. I feel good… like myself. Who knows… It’s possible that I would have looked something like this.”

“Sometimes I wonder how Loke would look like if he had not been born a shapeshifter,” Arvid said. “But perhaps there is no ‘normal’ for him.”

“Maybe not,” Nod said. “Shapeshifters are very different, not only when it comes to the extent of their gift but also in their desire to change their shape. Most have a preferred shape, but not all. Some almost never change, others constantly… like Loke. He gets very irritated when he can’t change for a long time.”

“It’s confusing.”

“I know. That’s why many shapeshifters suppress their need to change.”

“Do you?”

“Sometimes,” confessed Nod. “It’s hard to find people who accept you for who you are. What you really are.”

“Gerdur did,” Arvid said, thinking of the many situations in Vero-Maghen, where she had watched Nod and Gerdur together, always amazed at how naturally Gerdur accepted Nod’s otherness.

“Yes. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.”

“He really loved you,” Arvid said emphatically. “No matter what shape you had. Believe me, I have often watched you together and saw how he looked at you.”

“And yet I would never have dared to take a shape which deviates from a certain scheme. Do you think he would have accepted me as a stone lion?”

“Hmm,” Arvid said thoughtfully. She would have liked to assure Nod that Gerdur certainly would have loved him anyway, but the truth was she didn’t know.

They sat there in silence, listening to the sound of the waterfall and the cries of the mountain birds that circled far above them in the sky. Diffuse daylight began to brighten the mountains, turning the fog between the fir trees in a milky soup. It was now clearly noticeable that the days were becoming warmer and brighter. Arvid wondered how a summer might be in this world.

“Loke said you should teach me,” she said after a while. “Will you do it?”

Nod laughed, but it sounded forced. “Of course I’ll do it. As if I had a choice…”

“What are you to him, Nod?” said Arvid. “His servant, his slave?”

“Nonsense,” Nod retorted, but he didn’t answer her question; he just stared down at the rocks.

“Nod, if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to,” Arvid said. “You can leave anytime.”

“I can’t. I have an agreement with Loke. Breaking it could cost me my life.”

Arvid stared at him in disbelief. “Really?” she asked, but already the look in his eyes told her that he was serious. “You… are afraid of him,” she said. “Why?”

“You don’t know him like I do, and perhaps it’s for the better,” said Nod. “Enough people have warned you about him; what does it help if I do it again?”

Arvid wanted to say something, but at that moment Nod leaned over and hugged her. “Don’t worry, Arvid,” he muttered. “I’m just his servant. But he needs you. I don’t know for what, but your favor is important to him.” He let her go again and smiled, but it looked tormented. “Now let’s go inside; I’m freezing.”

Nod’s words left more of an impression than all the stories that Arvid had read and heard about Loke. Nod had always been the one who had not commented on the many accusations against Loke. He had spoken of him with respect, when others had expressed nothing but contempt or fear. That he suddenly pointed out Loke’s dangerousness distressed Arvid.

Nevertheless, she still wanted to get an idea of Loke herself. She was well aware that she still knew virtually nothing about him and that it would take many weeks until she would grasp enough of his changeable nature to get an idea of who he really was. Sure, he was usually irritable, gloating, tactless, often indifferent, but… did this make him dangerous? At other times, he was very patient, sometimes happy in a reckless manner, and if something caught his attention, he had a curiosity that could go so deep that it bordered on obsession.

The following days Arvid often conversed with Nod, but she tried not to bring the subject back to his trade with Loke. They talked about their journey and Nod’s experiences as an animal and again about Nod’s past and his family. It turned out that Loke had known Nod’s father and Nod had repeatedly met him as a child.

The reconversion had weakened Nod significantly, as evidenced not only by the red streaks on his body. He was constantly tired and felt cold even in the vicinity of the fire. He spent many hours of the day asleep under a thick layer of blankets and furs. Sometimes Arvid sat near him and read. When Nod awoke, she asked him about words in Old Jördisch and phrases in her book that she had not understood. Often, however, he couldn’t help her either.

“Ask Loke,” he advised, to her surprise, after a few days. “He speaks this language fluently. I’m only good at new languages.”

Loke didn’t appear until late in the afternoon and wasn’t pleased when Arvid asked him for help. But then he seemed to develop a certain pleasure in making fun of her mispronunciation, and after a while he could hardly stop snickering. Although it took all of Arvid’s willpower to suppress her anger, she in the end had the answers to all her questions. And she had learned another thing: Old Jördisch was Loke’s native language. Now she understood why his Jördisch wasn’t entirely flawless.

The next day, Nod finally started her lessons, though he still didn’t look entirely recovered. In order to have more space, they went to the grassy terrace at the rock face. It was the first time that Loke went with them. He looked mostly male, with delicate features and long brown hair, though. In addition, he was in an almost absurdly good mood. He had brought weapons that he threw at them without warning. While Nod actually managed to catch his, Arvid stepped aside, scared, so they fell down in the grass in front of her.

Loke laughed loudly and sat down on a nearby stone. “They are made of wood,” he said. “Like I said, I’m no healer. We should avoid stabbing each other.”

Arvid sullenly picked up the weapons and saw that they were only imitations of long blades. She wasn’t sure if they should be referred to as daggers or small swords.

“So you’re joining us, Loke?” she said defiantly as she tentatively took one of the daggers and weighed it appraisingly.

“Maybe in a few months. You’ll get the basics from Nod. At least there’s not the slightest danger that he could hurt you in any way.”

“What are you trying to say?” Arvid asked warily, but Nod interrupted her by loudly clearing his throat.

“Maybe we should just start,” he suggested gently.

For a moment Arvid looked at Loke sharply, but he just smirked and returned the look from dark eyes. Finally, she nodded and turned to Nod.

“Actually,” Nod began, “Most of my experience in fighting is with long swords and shields. However,” he continued with a brief glance at Loke, “my master thinks you should learn to handle small weapons.”

“You’re too weak to block hard attacks,” explained Loke, “so you have to work with what you have.”

“And what do I have?” asked Arvid.

“You’re rather small and agile,” Nod answered.

“You look decent but in reality you’re unscrupulous, fast and sneaky,” Loke said.

Arvid stared at him. “I’m not sneaky!”

“Then you ought to be. Chivalry won’t get you far.”

“Let’s have a look at the weapons,” Nod said loudly and threw Arvid a beseeching look. She pulled herself together and did it.

Nod showed her how to stand properly in order to remain steady. For the rest of the training Arvid had to try to dodge Nod’s blows without losing her balance. Although his attacks were deliberately slow, it turned out more difficult than expected.

Loke was watching them attentively. Initially Arvid felt uncomfortable and inhibited under his eyes. She was constantly expecting that he in some way would make fun of her awkwardness, but he just sat there in silence. After a few hours Arvid even had forgotten that he was there.

The next few weeks they trained almost daily and Arvid quickly made progress. Nod was indeed good at what he did, at least as far as Arvid could tell as a beginner. She had to practice all the movements and attacks with both the right and the left hand, which felt terribly burdensome in the beginning, but became a matter of course over time.

Loke mostly kept his distance. Arvid saw him even more rarely than before, when he sometimes was reading in one corner or embroidering or sewing, quietly muttering to himself. It sometimes happened, however, that he suddenly appeared on their training ground and sat down somewhere to watch them. How his presence made itself felt always depended on his mood. Sometimes they hardly noticed him, and sometimes he criticized them constantly and became downright furious when Arvid repeatedly made the same mistake. At some point this usually ended with Arvid storming off angrily. Other times he looked happy and cheerful, and he quietly grinned to himself or chuckled constantly, which made Arvid just as angry.

Nod was their calming influence. He was always balanced, stayed in the background and did everything Loke told him to, without ever complaining. When Loke and Arvid were at loggerheads, it was he who brought them to their senses again before a really ugly dispute could erupt. When Loke was in one of his aggressive moods, Nod often became his temporary target though. Loke seemed to find great pleasure bombarding Nod with hurtful comments and demonstrating his inferiority. His servant took it wordlessly. Arvid, on the other hand, would become livid.

One day it was particularly bad. Though Nod generally managed to remain miraculously calm, it was too much even for him that day. For hours Loke had picked on him and showered him with condescending remarks. While Arvid’s anger slowly grew and grew, Nod seemed to be getting smaller and paler under Loke’s words. Eventually, he abruptly turned around and almost fled the cave. His face was an expressionless mask, but Arvid noticed that he was close to tears.

For a moment she was torn between the need to follow Nod to cheer him up, and a burning desire to vent her anger at Loke. Finally her anger won.

“What do you even think to achieve with this?” she screamed. Although she knew she couldn’t physically oppose Loke the slightest, she couldn’t help but step up to him threateningly.

“Achieve?” sneered Loke. “I’m just saying the truth!”

“Just because someone doesn’t have any miraculous talents, you don’t have to keep throwing it at them like an insult!” bellowed Arvid. She was so upset her body was trembling with rage.

“Everyone should know their place in this world,” Loke said scornfully, “and Nod’s place is somewhere far down there. He is a small, pathetic, stinking worm and he shouldn’t forget!”

Arvid hit him. She was beside herself, but Loke’s body seemed as hard as stone. Sharp pain shot through her hand. She cried out in frustration, but when she raised her other hand, Loke grabbed her by the wrist.

“You better not do that,” he hissed, while Arvid unsuccessfully tried to break away from his grip. “When will you learn to accept that you don’t belong in the dirt like the others? Can’t you see that you’re better than them?”

Arvid laughed hard, ripped at her arm again, but then gave up. “I’m no better than anyone,” she said, laboriously restrained. “Just because I happen to possess a gift others don’t have doesn’t mean I’m worth more than them.”

For a moment, Loke stared at her in silence, his eyes full of anger. They were of a cold blue that harshly contrasted with his almost black hair. It was one of hundreds of shades that Arvid had already seen on Loke, and yet he was and remained the same person. She should hate him, but she couldn’t. Something in those eyes was so familiar it felt as if she was facing a sibling—and yet it was very different. No matter how reprehensibly Loke acted, no matter how much he defied her ideals, she could never hate him. She instinctively sensed that this feeling was mutual. Perhaps this was the reason she was not afraid of him.

When Loke finally loosened his grip, Arvid’s worst anger was gone. Nevertheless, she snatched her hand from him with an energetic jerk, turned around and stormed off without another word.

Nod had quickly picked up courage again. Loke was a little more restrained the next days and was, in any fact, mostly absent. Neither Arvid nor Nod knew where he was.

Then one night, when they were eating dinner, Loke appeared in form of a curvy woman with huge, curly hair. He almost floated in the room and seemed to be in very good spirits. He sat down at the table and was so chatty and affable, that Nod eventually threw Arvid such a puzzled look that she had to suppress a laugh. Loke insisted that they drank mead. Within a short time he topped up his pitcher three times, while Arvid and Nod were still sipping their first one.

Nod didn’t say a single word the whole evening, but that wasn’t unusual in Loke’s presence. Arvid, however, felt herself getting infected by Loke’s jolly mood. He told her a story Arvid already knew, even if the details clearly differed from the first version. This time the bridge was guarded by at least twenty trolls, although Arvid remembered that Loke had only mentioned five last time.

“You do know that you’ve told me all this before?” she asked with a grin, after the thieves’ house had turned into a fortress.

“I would remember that,” said Loke and took another big gulp. “I don’t tell this story to everyone. You should know that there was a whole horde of attractive troll women hidden in the castle, trying to seduce us.”

Arvid nearly choked on her mead as she imagined this sight.

Loke fixed her. “You probably don’t believe me?”

“Not a word,” chuckled Arvid.

On Loke’s face a grin began to spread. “But it’s true,” he said emphatically. “Prudent as I am, I was the one who finally had to rip Thor from the arms of the ladies. He was so enchanted by the well-formed bodies, he could hardly contain himself. Just imagine his wife learned about that.”

“You’re a liar, Loke,” Arvid said, laughing.

“Am I?”

“Either you’re lying now or you lied when you told me the story the last time,” chuckled Arvid. “Last time you said you had found a woman who actually belonged to the thieves, but helped you because she couldn’t get enough of you.”

“Of course that was afterwards,” Loke said with a straight face. “Yes, I remember exactly. A giantess—and the daughter of a king. She begged me to take her with me and marry her.”

Arvid snorted. “And did you do it?”

“Master,” Nod suddenly said, “may I retire?” He had followed their conversation with a tense face so far, and looked dead tired.

“Don’t interrupt my guests!” Loke snapped harshly.

Nod gulped and looked at the table. “My apologies.”

Arvid felt a flash of anger but pulled herself together. The night had been too pleasant so far to ruin it with a dispute with Loke.

After Nod had left, Loke told the short rest of the story, which also bore little resemblance to the version Arvid remembered. There were conformities, though, such as the stable boy, who was unimportant but apparently resembled a horse so much Loke was late for the meeting, because he couldn’t stop laughing.

To illustrate this, Loke took the form of said young man, whereupon Arvid laughed so much, tears welled up in her eyes. Loke’s features were grotesquely protracted, his front teeth huge and jutting. His bangs fell to his eyes, which were surrounded by voluminous, black lashes. His impression was so absurd and yet so funny that Arvid continued to snicker quietly after Loke had normalized his appearance.

For a while there was silence. Arvid only now noticed the effect of the two pitchers mead she’d imbibed. Her head felt light and lively, but her limbs were leaden. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to lie down and go to sleep; on the other hand, she had not felt that cheerful and carefree in a very long time. Now that she thought about it, it was the first time she had actually felt happy here in the Shadow World.