Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (45 page)

Arvid couldn’t believe her ears. For a moment she wondered if he was trying to play games with her again, but after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded and, a little uncertainly, sat down at the edge of the stone niche. She saw that Loke was still working on the picture with the house and the river, whose motif was clearly visible now.

“You’re in my light,” Loke said, then held out his left arm. “Come here.”

Again Arvid hesitated. Did Loke just invite her to lie in his arm, or was she so confused that she misunderstood everything? “You mean I should…”

“Oh, Arvid. Everything has happened between us, and you’re shy of touching my shoulder?”

Of course he was right, but Arvid also knew where her uncertainty came from. Too often he had hurt and rejected her, too often played with her feelings, for her to follow this invitation relaxed and carefree. But this time, she felt that it was sincere. She pulled her legs inside the niche, moved closer to Loke and gently rested her head on his chest.

Loke adjusted his position a little and then continued his work. Arvid was watching attentively as he did one stitch after another. His movements were so quick and accurate she could only marvel.

There wasn’t much more missing of the picture, only a corner of the sky and a wide border, which Arvid knew Loke usually covered with an ornament. The large embroidered house looked like a farmhouse and had a stone-covered roof and many windows. It was right next to a brook, crossed by a flower-decked bridge. In the water an animal could be seen, which resembled a river otter. Behind the first trees of the forest, high mountains rose. On the opposite side there was something like a stone fortress or a castle.

Whenever a thread was used up, Loke pulled the end to the back side of the fabric. On the rugged back wall of the niche he had attached more threads, which he used one by one, obviously choosing the color spontaneously.

Arvid just lay there watching him and felt at peace. The feeling of being so close to him, to be able to participate in a tiny fragment of his life, filled her with a warm feeling of happiness. Then Loke suddenly started to tell her a story.

“Many years ago I accompanied Odin and a now-deceased god named Hanir to a land far to the east, which was then still part of the dwarven realm, but largely populated by humans. At a stream, we stopped for a break. While Odin strove to build a fire, Hanir and I went upstream to find a good place for fishing.

“I found one, but Hanir ran ahead of me and discovered an otter who had just caught a huge fish. He slew the otter to get his hands on its prey. We cooked the fish and kept the otter for his fur. The next day we came to a beautiful homestead, where we hoped to be able to exchange the fur.

“Now it turned out, however, that the landlord was a god of significant power himself and that we had slain his son, a shapeshifter who used to fish in form of an otter. The father was mad with grief and anger, but even though we were superior, Odin wanted no dispute with him. Asgard was still young at that time, the relations between the countries of Jördendheim unsettled and the gods dependent on good connections.

“Odin blamed me for the disaster. I should have recognized the shape-shifter. He… threatened me. He threatened me with death and worse if I didn’t scare up the wergild: the slain otter’s weight in gold. But I didn’t possess such amounts, and since Odin never made empty threats, I quickly set out for the nearby mountains.

“Deep in the mountains, where only a few dwarves lived, I came across a small village whose inhabitants dug gold in a mine. The yield was kept in a fortified tower, which lay at the foot of a dam. My time was almost up. Since I feared for my life, I took the shape of a huge mountain bull and kicked in the largest building, so nothing but stones and rubble remained. I threatened to break down the dwarves’ dam, so that all their gold was lost, if they didn’t give me a bag full of it. They gave in, and so I returned to the courtyard, where we paid the wergild.

“Days later we received news that the lord of the court had passed away. The dwarves from the east had hidden a gold ring in the bag, which bore a powerful rune spell that brought death to whoever put it on his finger.”

Loke paused. For a while Arvid watched his hands, which continued to embroider, as if he wouldn’t have to waste a single thought on where to put the next stitch. The story sounded like a fairy tale, but even though Loke had skipped all the details, Arvid didn’t doubt for a second that it had happened exactly like he had told her.

“What happened to the ring?” she asked finally.

“I don’t know,” Loke said. “Maybe someone took it into their possession, and maybe it was remelted.” He pulled another thread to the back of the fabric. Arvid saw that there was only a tiny corner missing now. The picture was beautiful and would be even more beautiful once it was surrounded by the ornament.

“Do you know how to embroider, Arvid?” said Loke.

Arvid shook her head. “I’ve never really tried.”

“Then I’ll show you.” He gently pulled her into an upright position, holding out the needle, which Arvid took after a brief hesitation.

“Are you sure?” she asked sheepishly. “I don’t want to ruin your work.”

“It’s just a picture.”

Arvid felt terribly clumsy, despite the fact that Loke always showed her exactly where she had to put the needle and the missing stitches were very simple. After two rows she felt a little more confident. The sixth and final row, which only consisted only of a few small stitches, she was able to complete without any help.

Loke took the cloth from her again and fixed the thread on the back. Arvid found it touching to see the final image when she thought about how many hours and days Loke had worked on it.

“It’s beautiful,” she said admiringly. “All your pictures are beautiful. I want to know all their stories.”

Loke let his eyes briefly wander over his work, then he carefully folded the fabric and put it aside. “They tell no pleasant stories,” he said. “These are images of suffering and pain. Each of them represents a wound that Odin has caused me. I imagine… that each thread conceals the scar a little more… and sometimes I feel better then.”

Arvid didn’t know what to say. The thought of the many pictures and what they meant was horrific, but she didn’t want to act shocked. She wanted to be a support for Loke, because something told her that people tended to forget that even he needed one.

Loke looked at her silently. A warm tingling spread through Arvid’s body, such an intense feeling of affection and belonging, it made her heart ache.

“Grief makes me helpless,” Loke said after a while. “It… was nice to be able to tell you that.” In his eyes was a gentle warmth which Arvid had never seen in him before. She watched Loke’s eyes turning brown, then green, then almost blue. She felt such a strong desire to kiss him, she had to take a long, deep breath in order to endure the feeling.

He was her husband. She loved him so much, but she couldn’t kiss him. She was so afraid of Loke rejecting and hurting her, because to him she was completely defenseless. She knew he could destroy her completely. With a few words he could tear her heart into pieces, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Suddenly there was a hesitant knock on the door.

Loke frowned, then he gently pushed her aside. As he rose, he turned back into the giant he was known as here in Isvirndjellen.

There was a servant at the door, but Arvid couldn’t understand what was being said. Loke however, nodded solemnly, then he turned to her and said, “I’m needed. I’ll… see you later.”

He turned around and left.

Arvid didn’t get to see Loke again that day. At night she repeatedly woke up from disturbing dreams in which he played a role, but at no time was he really there. Only toward the morning hours did she fall into a more peaceful sleep, but a few hours later she was awakened by Desrei, who told her that she was asked to the council chamber. Another messenger had arrived.

Arvid took her time. Despite a poor night’s sleep she felt balanced and happy, which was mainly due to the attention that Loke had paid her the day before.

Desrei prepared a breakfast for her and carried it on a tray beside her, as they made their way to the council chamber. Arvid tried to find out where the messenger came from, but Desrei couldn’t help. All she knew was that he was a human man—or an exceptionally tall dwarf.

He was a human, as Arvid found out when they finally entered the council chamber. The stranger and Loke, in his official, human form, were sitting alone at the big table. Desrei quickly put the tray down and disappeared. Arvid looked at the guest. He was a young man with cleanly trimmed beard, smallish and stocky in stature, but with fine facial features. He was wearing precious clothes and a fur-lined cloak, so there was little doubt that he came from Asgard.

Loke fleetingly smiled at Arvid, while the guest rose and bowed his head.

“Greetings,” he said in a firm voice. “My name is Forseti, son of Balder. I regret that we had to disturb you this early, but unfortunately my time here in Sölunnir is very limited.”

Arvid returned the greeting. “My name is Arvid,” she said, “but you certainly know this already.”

“Indeed,” agreed Forseti and sat down again. “I have received a wealth of information about you. Some from you, some from your teachers in Vero-Maghen, but most from Loke. The Council of Asgard fears that you, through Loke, might have gotten the wrong impression we wanted to harm you.”

“Forgive me, but throughout Jördendheim there are placards that state that I’m wanted and considered a threat,” Arvid said. “This hasn’t anything to do with Loke. He merely provided me with more details about the motivations—which  are completely ridiculous, if I may openly say so.”

Forseti smiled. “You may,” he said, “even if the Council disagrees. But that’s not even relevant.” He folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Surely you understand that Asgard takes the oracle’s prophecies very seriously. It has never before made a prediction that has not proven to be true. So, you see the Council has good reason to be concerned.”

“You take the oracle’s word at face value, I get it,” Arvid said gruffly. “You make me a criminal, just because this oracle asserts that I am one.”

“As I said, the predictions have always occurred as foretold, no exception.”

“I only got here because of the portals Asgard’s gods had created,” Arvid said sharply. “Now you want to punish me for something I didn’t do and never will do. Do you call this justice?”

“That’s not our intention,” Forseti said. “That’s what I tried to express when I spoke of a wrong impression. Asgard has no plans to punish or even kill you. The latter would only have been a solution in case of an urgent emergency. Although,” he glanced in Loke’s direction, “it doesn’t look as if this still is an option now. Things are getting difficult.”

Arvid looked skeptical back and forth between Forseti and Loke. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“Well, it came to my attention that you got married,” Forseti said, “and forgive my suspicions, but… would you allow me to take a look at your left arm?”

Arvid felt uncomfortable in the face of the request, but still pulled up the sleeve of her coat. The wound had been open for a few days and was now dried and covered by a layer of scab. In a few small spots it had already fallen off and revealed strongly reddened scar tissue. At a closer look, fine, silvery lines could be seen underneath the newly-formed skin.

“So it’s true,” said Forseti firmly.

“Yes,” Arvid said. “But I still don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

Forseti leaned back in his chair and made a gesture in Loke’s direction. “Loke assured me that you are well informed about everything, so I take the liberty to speak openly.” He folded his arms and looked at Arvid. “There also exists a bond between Odin and Loke. Not the kind as between you and Loke, yet a very powerful one, one that once allowed them to combine their powers and to create the permanent transitions between the worlds. Did you know about that?”

Arvid shook her head. She had known that Loke and Odin were blood brothers, but what exactly that meant had not been clear to her. She sought eye contact with Loke, who, however, was staring into the air and showed no emotion.

“Does that mean that their lives are bound to each other as well?” said Arvid.

“Oh no, they are not,” said Forseti. “As I mentioned, the link between Odin and Loke is of an entirely different nature. It was concluded for the sole purpose of creating and maintaining the world transitions. If one of them dies, this whole structure would collapse.”

“So… all transitions would disappear.”

Forseti shook his head vigorously. “No one knows what would happen. We don’t believe that the transitions would simply disappear—at least not immediately. Much more likely is that an unimaginably large transition would form, possibly tearing the boundaries between the worlds apart. Nobody wants to risk this.”

Now Arvid began to understand, even if everything seemed incredibly confused and entangled. Suddenly she realized what Loke had meant back when he said that Odin’s friendship protected him. It had been the bond he had meant. None of the gods would dare to kill Loke, because the consequences would be incalculable. They had no choice but to come to terms with him. Now that Arvid was married to Loke, her death would automatically mean Loke’s death and thus potentially trigger a disaster. So her life had no longer been in danger after her marriage—the only remaining question was if Asgard would dare to take her prisoner by force.

“I see.” Arvid grabbed the bowl of porridge that Desrei had prepared for her and ate a few bites, more to have something to do than out of real hunger.

Forseti was very personable and looked sincere and friendly, and yet Arvid was very tense. She felt that a lot depended on him and what was said here.

“As you can see, your marriage even deprived us of our last resort,” he said now. “Well, almost. The risk would be enormous. Killing you and thus also Loke would in the current situation only be an option if it became evident that you would place the world in serious danger.”