Mist (13 page)

But where were the giants? Even if Loki had told them to stay out, they must surely have sensed the powerful magic when Freya had made her unexpected “appearance.” Why had they remained outside when their master was threatened by something even he couldn’t fight?

Before she could finish pulling the broken door open, Dainn climbed through it, his face as pale as a fish’s belly. “Are you well?” he asked.

She turned on him. “Coward!” she said, shock exploding into anger. “You had words in plenty, but where were
you
?”

Dainn said nothing. He simply walked out of the room again. Vidarr got to his feet, popping his shoulder back into its socket. “Mist,” he said. “You have to believe I never—”

Vali burst into the office, looking anxiously from Mist to Vidarr and back again. “You guys okay?” he asked. “The elf said Loki’s gone.”

“He’s gone, all right,” Mist said.

“You got Gungnir?”

Mist shook her head, too ashamed to meet his gaze, and pointed at the door. “He did
that
just before he left. What about the Jotunar?”

“They won’t be any more trouble.”

Mist realized she’d severely underestimated Vali’s skill and determination. “They didn’t hurt you?” she asked, carefully looking him over.

“Didn’t get the chance.”

Mist blew out her breath, her anger seeping away. “Thanks for what you tried to do in there, Val. Sorry I couldn’t take advantage of it. I had to find out what was going on in here.”

Vali’s ruddy skin went ruddier still. “I guess it’s a good thing you did. You freed Vidarr.”

Mist glanced in Vid’s direction. He had turned his back to them, clearly in no mood to finish whatever he’d been about to tell her. Had he been a prisoner, or had Loki been telling the truth about their reaching some kind of agreement?

Mist couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Gods knew that Loki would be happy to lie if it meant turning potential allies against each other. And Vid had helped in the end, even if that help had come late. There was a lot more going on here than met the eye.

Even within herself.

Vali pushed his big hands in his jeans pockets. “I can’t believe the Aesir are still alive,” he said. “Damn. Might take a while to get used to the idea.”

“Loki told you?”

Vali nodded. “This is all pretty strange.”

That
was an understatement. “How did Loki get the drop on Vidarr?”

“I wasn’t there when it happened. When I figured out what was going on, Loki just told me to stay out of the way. He didn’t think I was much of a threat, so I bided my time until I thought I could be of some use.”

“Did anyone in the bar hear what was going on?”

“Loki soundproofed the back rooms when he showed up, and then Dainn—”

“Just what was
he
doing while Loki was trying to kill me?”

“Come with me.”

Vali led her through the door into the other room. Mist stopped so suddenly that she almost tripped over her own feet.

The Jotunar were piled in a heap in the middle of the room, most unconscious and the rest groaning in pain. Hrimgrimir was not among them.

“The elf did that,” Vali said.

6

Mist stared at Vali. “Did you just say—”

“
He
did it,” Vali said, pointing his chin toward the corner of the room. Dainn stood there very quietly, his face as expressionless as ever but haggard and shadowed with exhaustion.

“How?” she asked.

“Magic,” Vali said. “Not sure exactly what . . . like a combination of Galdr and elf-magic. Pretty impressive, too. Got them all fighting each other and hardly had to lift a finger.”

Impressive was scarcely the word for it. Mist had barely managed to hold off a dozen Jotunar out for blood, and then only for a few minutes when she’d tried shaping the Battle-Runes in her mind.

Even Vidarr might have found himself hard-pressed to fight them all at once. But Dainn—

“I think he was trying to get through to you when the Jotunar attacked him,” Vali said, “but they were Hell-bent on killing him.” Mist felt her face go hot. She’d branded Dainn a coward without bothering to learn the whole truth.

But he’d lied to her and withheld a couple of pretty vital facts that changed the meaning of everything he’d ever told her. He’d walked into her mind and said that Freya was her mother, right in the middle of a battle for her life.

She still couldn’t believe it. During her earliest childhood years in Asgard, believing that her late father was a prince of Midgard, she’d had only the vaguest memories of the woman who had given her birth. Memories that had quickly faded once her destiny had been made clear to her. She had stopped wondering about her parents long before she had been given the gift of immortality and made a Chooser of the Slain.

A Valkyrie who had never really been mortal at all. Half- goddess, half-Jotunn. Dainn had said he’d come to San Francisco because Freya had sensed Gungnir. Mist no longer believed that was the whole story. For a few moments, she had felt Freya, and Freya’s power, as if she had become the goddess herself.

Had she? Had Freya somehow entered her mind the way Dainn had done? How had the Lady come to her from the Aesir’s Shadow- Realm now, when, according to Dainn, Mist wasn’t capable of hearing her?

Because that was also a lie. Mist had been played like a puppet by three immortals in less than half a day, and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

She walked slowly over to Dainn. “Why?” she asked. “Why did you keep it from me?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I did not think it would be advisable to tell you so soon. Not until you were prepared to trust me.”

“Trust? That’s a good one.” She pulled her hand over her hair.

“Loki seems to be the only one who knows anything around here.

He knew about
you,
or at least that the Aesir had sent an elf to cause trouble for him, but until we showed up in Asbrew he thought Hrimgrimir had killed the gods’ agent. He didn’t seem too concerned that the ’elf ’ was still alive, since you’d apparently abandoned me.”

Dainn flicked a glance at her face. “He did not know my name?”

“Not until you . . . did whatever you did in my mind. I think he heard you then.” She brushed her temple with her fingertips, still feeling Dainn’s voice echoing inside her skull. “How did you do it?

You said you could only touch the surface.”

“It did not involve anything more than that,” he said. “I was not certain I would succeed, but it had to be attempted.”

“It didn’t exactly succeed. I’m alive, but he took Gungnir.” She tried to shake off a sudden wave of despair. “Why did you ask if Loki knew your name?”

He looked away again. “We met in Asgard,” he said. “When?”

“It is scarcely uncommon for elves and Aesir to meet there, and Loki always made free of Valhalla.”

“Did you have some kind of quarrel?”

“As a rule, Alfar prefer to avoid quarrels.”

You’ve got to be kidding,
she thought. She and Dainn had been at daggers drawn ever since they’d met.

“He was more than just surprised when he found out you were here,” she said. She jerked her head toward the pile of Jotunar. “I wondered before if you’re a lot more dangerous than you look. Loki seemed to think so, too.”

Dainn’s expression shifted, twisting out of its usual handsome lines. There was no mistaking the hatred in it. “What I can do is nothing to
his
magic,” he said.

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear that whatever happened between the two of you, it ended badly,” she said, watching him carefully.

“And no matter what you elves claim, you can still feel anger and hatred. I’ve seen it in your eyes before. You’re no different from the rest of us.”

“I am different,” he said, looking away, “but not in the manner you suppose. Once I could have done him harm. I am no longer capable of it.”

“Apparently
he
doesn’t know that.” Mist narrowed her eyes. “By the way, where were you when I was fighting the Jotunar? I went into this blind because you didn’t get around to telling me some thing that could have made all the difference.”

“I was attempting to contact Freya,” he said.

“Did you succeed? Did she find a way to act in this world after all?”

“I don’t understand what you—”

“Was that
me
in there fighting Loki, or was it my mother?” Genuine shock froze his face. “What are you saying?” She rapped her knuckles against her skull. “Didn’t you stick around to see how things were going to come out after you shared the big secret? Didn’t you hear Loki call Freya’s name at the end?

Who was he talking to?”

“I was not able to reach Freya. You were there. She was not.”

“ ‘Loki fears you because he fears the Lady,’ ” she said, quoting him. “ ’Freya is the key.’ And then I wasn’t myself anymore.”

“You are more yourself now than you have ever been.”

“Do you think this is funny?” she demanded. “First I find out a goddess who never so much as spoke to me in Asgard is my mother, you tell me I can’t talk to her myself, and then suddenly I’ve got some kind of connection with her I can’t control.” She felt her chest tighten and took in a quick, sharp breath. “What did you do?”

“I did nothing. You drew upon the power that was already hidden within you.”

“By fighting Loki in a way I never even would have considered before?”
Killing him with love,
she thought, with a shudder of disgust. “You saw it, didn’t you? Why did just knowing who I was change me so much?”

“Your instinct for survival is powerful,” he said, still looking more than a little shaken. “You found a part of Freya within yourself and made it real.”

“Completely unconscious of what I was doing?”

“Were you ever truly unconscious?”

Once again he was evading her real question, but since she hardly knew how to ask it, she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. “You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

“Is it another apology you seek?”

“I don’t want your apology. I want you to stop lying to me.” His gaze, deeply shadowed, met hers again. “Since you don’t trust me, how can you be sure I will tell you the truth now?” Mist grabbed the front of Dainn’s barely recognizable shirt and pulled it close around his neck.

“I’ll
know,
” she said.

She was bluffing, but she sensed that Dainn took her threat seriously. Maybe he believed her relationship with Freya, whatever the Hel it was, gave her the ability to sift truth from deception. Maybe it was even true.

“What do you wish to know?” he asked softly.

She let him go. “The giants knew I was half Jotunn, and Hrimgrimir called me ‘Sow’s bitch,’ even though I served Odin. Loki must have known I was Freya’s daughter all this time, just like you did.”

“He clearly had no idea of your abilities.”

“Obviously, since he didn’t seem to worry about my finding out who he was when he lived with me. But why should he wait until we were facing each other here in Asbrew before he tried to get me on his side? If he believed I knew where the Treasures were all along, why didn’t he try to force me to tell him before he ran off with Gungnir?”

“I have no answer,” Dainn said.

Of course he doesn’t,
Mist thought sourly. “Loki did believe I
was

Freya in there, didn’t he?”

“His behavior indicates he was fully convinced.”

“And he was scared. He didn’t expect any of it. When I . . . did what I did, he didn’t know how to fight back.” She struggled to find the right words. “I know he never stopped trying to get Freya in the sack. I can see why he’d hate her, but why the fear? He’s the one with all the advantages now. He deceived the Aesir, he took Gungnir, but for a few seconds it was as if he couldn’t fight at all.” Dainn’s hesitation was so brief she almost missed it. “Their relationship was far more complicated than it appeared to others in Asgard.”

“How?”

Dainn tugged at his collar, smoothing it as if it belonged to an expensive suit rather than a set of rags held together by dirt and blood. “It is something Freya did not consider necessary to tell me.”

“Need-to-know basis again, huh?” She snorted. “That’s convenient.”

“I am sorry—”

“Skip it. Let’s go back to what happened before he thought I turned into Freya. He still wanted me on his side even after I said I couldn’t tell him where my Sisters are. Even after he was ready to kill me. Why?”

Brushing black hair away from his face, Dainn studied Mist as if he were deciding whether or not to trust
her.

“He must have realized you would soon discover who you were and finally come into your power. He would have known that it was not only Gungnir the Lady sought when she sent her agent to find you.”

“Then I was right,” Mist said, her heart like an iron billet pressing against her ribs. “Freya never gave a damn about me in Asgard.

But now I’m useful to her somehow, aren’t I?”

“You are her daughter, but you are also Odin’s servant. Before the Last Battle, she was unable to—”

“Bullshit.” Mist turned sharply away, took a few steps, and swung toward Dainn again. “Why would the First Valkyrie let her own daughter serve another god if she cared about her? She hasn’t suddenly developed some powerful maternal instinct for me. She has a use for me now that this war’s about to begin, and I know what it is.” She pushed her face close to Dainn’s. “I’m not completely blind, Dainn. She needs a physical shape in Midgard, and I’m some kind of conduit for her power.”