EV B2 Chapter 23:

  “Do you have any siblings, Miles?” Loki asked after a few moments of silence.

  I was slightly taken aback by the question coming out of the blue, but I started to see where Loki might be going with it. “No, not by blood, though. I was pretty close to my brother-in-law for many decades, but I imagine that isn’t the same.”

  Loki heaved a weary sigh. “Hmm. Hard to say. I was adopted, obviously. I have a stepmother, and my father is very distant.”

  I frowned, trying to remember what little I knew of Norse mythology. Loki’s father was... who, exactly? He said he was Odin, but... or was that just those movies? I couldn’t remember. Loki must have seen my confusion because he followed it up with another question.

  “Okay, so how much do you actually know about Norse mythology?”

  I shrugged. “Not much. No more than pop culture. And maybe... a Wikipedia late-night browsing session or something.”

  “Well, that honestly doesn’t put you at too much of a disadvantage. Most of the Norse sagas come from a Christian priest, written 200 years after most of Iceland had converted. So, some of it is a bit skewed. For example, Baldur is nowhere near as forgiving as people make him out to be. Nor as gentle. He was too heavily influenced by the mythos of Jesus.”

  He took a breath before continuing, “Of course, there’s a lot that’s true, but the mess of the families? That part didn’t really survive. Sure, it might look messy, but even the stories and myths mortals knew at the time had nothing to do with how chaotic it actually was. See, there were two pantheons in the beginning, long before humans were even involved: the ?sir and Vanir. We warred for what must have been millennia.”

  He gave a humorless chuckle. “And I? Well, I was always a little to the side—a trickster and, in some cases, a neutral third party. Not because I didn’t have connections to one side or the other but just because of who I was. No one inherently trusted me. And, well, while most didn’t revile me, they weren’t exactly eager to put up with me either.

  “That did mean, though, that I was uniquely helpful. Eventually, the warring stopped. One side or another—it wasn’t important. Instead of claiming defeat or victory, a series of marriages were performed. Several marriages throughout the lines bind our families together. We had the more gentle gods and the warlike gods, and together, we tempered ourselves. Or at least, we thought we did. For our time, we tempered ourselves.

  “To you, we might seem vicious and warlike—or maybe not—but it was nothing compared to how it used to be. All of that made for rather tense family gatherings. When you’re known for killing or torturing one distant relative or another—or, in one iteration, sure, they might have healed or reformed themselves from their divine essence, but, well... the bad blood has somewhat faded. Every once in a while, though, someone digs up old wounds.”

  I was struggling to follow along with Loki’s speech. It felt like I was missing so much context. At the same time, as my wife had told me many times, this might be more of a listening problem than a solving problem. “Does this have something to do with what you have Astrid doing?” I asked.

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  Loki waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “Not directly. It would have happened anyway, but her working out the deal for her was a bit of a catalyst. All in all, I think it should be quite advantageous to all parties involved. But... well. Memories,” he said as he drained his second beer.

  I pushed my mostly untouched beer over to him and signaled the bartender for two more. Loki seized it, gave me a half-toast, and drained it as well before accepting one of the new beers the bartender slid toward me.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

  Loki heaved a short, weary sigh before turning to look at me. “I appreciate you asking, but this is mostly a godly matter.”

  “Well,” I said, “if it’s not too dangerous, I wouldn’t mind lending a hand if you need anything.”

  I didn’t offer or request payment, which was a bit antithetical to how Loki and I had conducted ourselves so far. Maybe he was getting one over on me, but I wasn’t bound by anything. I could always say no.

  “Mm. I’ll keep that in mind,” Loki said, a real smile breaking across his face for the first time since the conversation started. “Now, I imagine you probably want to get on with that mission. The jerk was going to give you all that. They can find you here. Just stay put for half an hour or so.”

  With that, Loki vanished. There was no sparkling aftereffect or flash of light. He was just... gone.

  I stared at the three empty beers in front of him and the mostly full one in front of me. With a sigh, I rested my forearms on the tabletop. The bartender glanced over at me, but seeing that I didn’t need anything, he simply went back to polishing another glass with his slightly stained rag.

  ***

  Loki was true to his word. As I sat at the bar, nursing yet another beer as slowly as I could, the door swung open, and Jorg jogged in. He was white-faced and puffing, clearly having run all the way here. He spotted me, and his shoulders relaxed slightly before he made his way over, pushing a few people out of his path. Most of the patrons, already too drunk at this early hour, muttered angrily at him but didn’t care enough to do anything more.

  Jorg slid into the booth Loki had occupied earlier, heaving a massive breath as he tried to catch his air.

  “Sorry,” he panted, holding up a hand as he fought to steady his breathing. “Sorry, Miles. I didn’t realize you were someone so important,” he said once he’d gathered himself. Then he stood, met my eyes, and offered his hand for a shake. “I would have come to you sooner if I’d known.”

  I took his hand, matching his grip strength, and looked him directly in the eyes. How should I respond? I thought to myself. Should I deny being anyone important? Was that true? I mean, I was an agent of Loki—was that important? I didn’t even know if Loki had rankings in his... organization. I was pretty sure he didn’t.

  But if Loki had put pressure on someone to save me time—or if that was what he’d done—didn’t that make me important? I didn’t feel particularly important. Denying it might make me look weak, but accepting it could lead to trouble I couldn’t handle. So, I took the middle path.

  “Well, I’m not sure I’m important,” I said with a smile, “but some people value my time.”

  It wasn’t exactly a denial. In fact, it was almost a confirmation, though not explicit enough for anyone to call me out on it. At least, no one would’ve called me out on it in the corporate world. Here, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe being vague or noncommittal like that was more of a weakness, but Jorg seemed to accept it. He nodded along.

  “Yeah. Word came down that the big man wanted this project moved up if you were involved. So, here I am.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Make me an offer.”

  “All right. So... there’s this priest of Tyr—”