“I don’t owe you anything! Let me go!” Amy says, trying to twist her hand from his grasp. When that doesn’t work she tries stomping on his feet...but he’s not there.

  From behind her his voice comes again. “Your life is worth more than a bed, some ham, and stuffed cabbages, Girl. You do owe me, and you will pay up.”

  Amy spins around. He’s blocking the door from the kitchen to the living room.

  She spins around again to run out the back door but he’s already standing there, his head canted forward, a scowl between his brow. “I really do not want to hurt you. I need your cooperation, my sons’ lives — ”

  “I won’t!” Closing her eyes, she shouts, “Fenrir!”

  From the floor comes a happy yip. She scowls down at the dog. When did her brave mutt become so unreliable?

  “Just hear me out,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “No!” Amy says. “You. Are. Crazy.”

  “What do you want...Loki?”

  Amy turns her head. Beatrice is standing in the doorway, purse in her hands; she is trembling slightly.

  “Grandma?” says Amy. “I thought you were going to get a ham...”

  Not taking her eyes off Thor...or Loki, or whoever it is, Beatrice says. “I forgot my wallet. What do you want, Loki?”

  Straightening, mystery weird guy says, “A car ride.”

  Beatrice swallows but then juts out her chin like she does when she’s about to complain to a store clerk. “You could have just asked.”

  “To Alfheim,” he says.

  “Oh...” says Beatrice. “Land of the Elves. Oh, my.”

  Amy runs to her grandmother and grabs her shoulders. “Come on, Grandma, let’s go.”

  “No,” says Beatrice, her eyes still on whoever it is. “You are worth more than a few cabbage rolls, Dear.”

  “Grandma,” says Amy. “This is crazy, he isn’t...”

  “Amy,” Beatrice says, meeting Amy’s eyes. “He just changed his clothing into armor, and I saw him shape shift last night. We don’t want to be in his debt.”

  “Good point, Beatrice.”

  Amy turns her head. Loki, Thor, or crazy fundamentalist home schooling escapee is walking towards them.

  Shrugging, he says, “I’m sorry to be so insistent. Really, I’ve had a lovely time with the two of you. But I’ve recovered, and I can’t dally anymore.”

  “Will you bring me back?” says Beatrice.

  “Grandma!” shouts Amy, shaking her head. Beatrice brings one hand up to her shoulder and squeezes Amy’s hand.

  Bowing, he says, “Of course.”

  Beatrice narrows her eyes. “Do I have your oath?”

  Whoever it is stops. He stands up straight. For a moment he says nothing. And then, tilting his head he says, “That is too broad a promise. You have my oath that I will do everything in my power to bring you back safely. More than that — ” He lifts his hands and lowers his head, eyes locked on Beatrice.

  “Grandma, you don’t drive!” says Amy. The only reason Beatrice has a car is because the ten-year old Subaru in the garage belongs to Amy’s grandfather and Beatrice doesn’t have the heart to part with it.

  “But I can,” says Beatrice. Turning, she nods at the crazy man. “I will do it, Loki.”

  Crazy man beams. “It actually might be good fun for you. The Light Elves have nothing against humans.”

  Shivering a little, Beatrice smiles. “Might be worth it to see Alfheim, before I die.”

  “There’s no such thing as elves!” Amy says.

  “On Earth,” says Crazy Guy. Bowing in her grandmother’s direction, he says, “Beatrice, you are a true lady. If you were a few hundred years older — ”

  Beatrice’s smile drops. “Stow it, Silvertongue. How long will this take?”

  “This is crazy, Grandma!” says Amy, dropping her hands. Her grandmother doesn’t even meet her eyes.

  “About a day,” he says, face going serious.

  “Take what you think we’ll need from the refrigerator. I’m going to get ready,” says Beatrice. She turns around and starts walking towards the stairs.

  Amy glares at Crazy Guy. “I’m not letting her go alone anywhere with you!”

  “You’re more than welcome to join us,” he says, going to the fridge.

  “You fucking jerk!” Amy hisses. “Taking advantage of an old woman like that!”

  Loki-Thor-Crazy Person scowls over his shoulder at her. A rag on the counter bursts into flames. Amy’s eyes widen. She looks at Crazy Guy. He is staring at the fire with eyes wide as hers. Turning to her quickly, he says nervously, “I didn’t do that!”

  Frantically pushing the burning rag into the sink with a stray fork, Amy douses it with the faucet. “Of course you didn’t. That would be impossible,” she whispers.

  She’s got to convince Beatrice not to go with this guy. As soon as the flames are out, she runs up the stairs and finds Beatrice packing a small overnight bag in her bedroom.

  ...and she gets nowhere with her cajoling, arguments or pleas.

  “I said I will drive him and I am going to drive him,” her grandmother says.

  “But it’s crazy! You can’t drive to Alfheim! Alfheim doesn’t exist!”

  “Then maybe we’ll drive a bit and come home,” says Beatrice.

  “He’s a lunatic!”

  Putting a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste in an overnight bag, Beatrice smiles. “A charming lunatic.”

  “So was Ted Bundy!”

  Zipping up her bag, Beatrice blinks at Amy. “Who was he?”

  “A serial killer!”

  Beatrice’s eyes go hard. “Do you really think Loki is a serial killer? Really?”

  Amy remembers the picture in the van going up in flames, and Thor...Loki...nearly stammering, I’m sorry...I didn’t mean...

  Shaking her head, Amy closes her eyes. “No, but that is not the point.”

  Putting her bag on the floor and wheeling it out into the hallway, Beatrice says, “Well, then what is your point?”

  “This is madness.”

  “I said I would drive him,” says Beatrice, beginning her agonizingly slow descent of the stairs.

  Strong, independent, stubborn, Ukrainian. She hasn’t driven in years — Beatrice behind the wheel is probably more dangerous than Thor-Loki-whoever.

  Swallowing, Amy shouts, “I’m driving!”

  Chapter 7

  A few minutes later they are standing in the garage in front of the Subaru. Fenrir is dancing happily next to them. It is not a great city car, but Amy’s grandfather liked fishing and escaping the city on weekends. Thor-Loki-Whoever-It-Is is carrying a cooler. He is back in a tee shirt and jeans, a black messenger bag over one shoulder. He is looking at the late afternoon sky. “We’ll have a few hours of daylight left.”

  Amy rolls her eyes. “This is crazy,” she mumbles, hitting the unlock button on the Subaru’s remote.

  The SUV beeps, and Whoever-It-Is jumps. “Will it accept me since I am with you?”

  Amy looks at Beatrice. Beatrice looks at Amy. Fenrir cocks her head at the man who may or may not be Thor.

  “Yes,” says Amy. “It was just saying hello.”

  “Hello, Car,” says Thor, leaning tentatively forward.

  Amy’s eyes go wide, but she says nothing as she slips into the driver’s seat and hits the back door release. Thor puts the cooler and Beatrice’s bag in the rear, closes the back door, and helps Beatrice into the back seat. All very chivalrous. He also closes the garage door after Amy pulls forward. For a moment Amy considers hitting the accelerator and leaving him there in the alley, but she doesn’t. She’ll just play along, this will come to nothing, and maybe on the way home she can drop Thor off at a hospital where he can get professional help.

  As Thor slips into the front seat, her foot goes to the non-existent clutch and her hand goes to the non-existent stick, but of course it’s an automatic. For a moment they go nowhere.

  Thor shakes his head. “This new advanced transmission system seems more trouble than it’s worth.”

  Amy decides to say nothing. She just puts her foot on the gas and heads to the gas station to fill up the tank — because Thor insists the journey is about 200 miles. And then she heads towards Peoria and Randolf streets, just a mile and a half away. It’s an area known for overpriced restaurants, not elves.

  The building Thor directs her to is not a restaurant. It’s one of the ancient warehouse buildings just south of Restaurant Row. There is an old iron gate that is thrown open, and a dark dirty alley leading to a neglected looking courtyard.

  “Go in here,” says Thor, pointing to the alley.

  “Are we allowed to do this?” says Amy. It doesn’t look like a regular alley. There is an archway above the entrance. “I don’t think we should go in there. It looks like private property.”

  “For Heaven’s sake, you can say you’re just turning around,” says Beatrice.

  “Grandma?” says Amy.

  “Go,” says Beatrice.

  Amy pulls into the alley, just up to the iron gate, and Thor says. “Stop here!”

  Opening the door, he turns to them. “In a moment, I’m going to get back in the car. As soon as I do, pull forward. It’s very difficult to keep the gate open.”

  Thor gets out and goes a few feet more into the alley. For a moment he bows his head and stands motionless. Then he flings out his hands as though pulling back a curtain. He moves quickly to either side, raising his hand, as though pulling the imaginary curtain back a little further.

  Behind her, Beatrice is leaning forward. “Maybe this is crazy, Amy, but it can’t hurt to indulge him, can it?”

  Amy sighs and rubs her eyes. For the first time since this episode began, she feels genuinely sad for him. He did save her life. He’s obviously mentally ill, probably schizophrenic, and he can’t help that.

  She takes a breath. She needs to get him to a doctor. They have treatments for schizophrenia now that are much better than in the past. He saved her life and she does owe him.

  She blinks. She saw his armor, and the wolf, and the fire...maybe she needs drugs, too?

  Ahead of her, Thor turns around quickly and runs back to the car. Opening the door he jumps into his seat. “Go now!” he shouts, shutting the door.

  Amy sighs. “Here goes nothing,” she says pulling forward. She hits the gas gently and drives forward...and the front of the car disappears.

  “What!” screams Amy, putting her foot on the brake. “Oh!” says Beatrice.

  “Just go!” yells Thor.

  And Amy isn’t sure why, but she hits the accelerator. Maybe it is her disbelief that propels her, because she certainly wouldn’t have driven forward if she actually believed her car had dematerialized in front of her.

  As the car goes forward, the dashboard, and then the steering wheel, disappear under her hands, and Amy is alone, surrounded by all the colors of the rainbow for the briefest of moments, her foot on the pedal of what would be the gas pedal if...

  ...and then her foot is on the gas pedal, behind her Beatrice is screaming, and next to her the man who still might be crazy is bracing his hands on the dash. “Stop!” he shouts.

  Amy hits the brake.

  Thor-Loki-Whoever, Beatrice, and Amy all take a deep breath. Fenrir whimpers.

  “Have you recovered from your shock?” says Whoever-It-Is.

  She had let the wheel go a little bit, and they might have run off the road. Amy turns her head to him. He’s wearing armor again.

  Her hands are shaking. “No,” Amy says. “I really don’t think so.” Her eyes go to the window. Outside is a road, only a little wider than the alley — definitely not made for two way traffic. For some reason she isn’t surprised it is yellow brick. On either side of the road is a dense forest. But...she peers either way. On one side it is dense and foreboding. On the other side it is open and light, and she has the urge to crack open the cooler and declare it time for a picnic right away.

  He takes a long breath and rubs his face. “How can I help you recover?”

  Amy looks around. “Can I get out?”

  Thor-Loki-Whoever looks at the sun. “I would say yes, but it would be best if we reach our destination before sunset.”

  Amy looks towards the dark wood and then looks back to her grandmother. She is looking in the same direction.

  “That side doesn’t look friendly, Loki,” says Beatrice.

  “Exactly,” says Thor-Loki-Whoever-It-Is, his voice grim.

  Amy puts her foot gently on the gas. “Loki,” she says. He really might be Loki.

  “Exactly,” says the man sitting next to her, and this time she can hear the smirk in his voice.

  Amy wills herself to breathe and keep her eyes on the road. Which is hard. She wants to stop and look. The trunks of the trees look lavender on the light side, the leaves almost blue. On the dark side, the tree trunks look so purple they are nearly black.

  “There was color when we...crossed,” says Beatrice. “Like a rainbow — ”

  “Yes,” says the man who actually might be Loki. “Time acts like a prism at the edge of the World Gates.”

  “The rainbow bridge,” says Beatrice quietly.

  Loki tilts his head. “I believe that humans did call it that once.”

  “The light,” says Amy. “The light here is different.” Everything seems a little bit blue.

  “The star that is this planet’s sun is much older. I believe you would call it a white dwarf,” says Loki.

  “Oh,” says Amy. She blinks. “We’re on another planet.”

  “Yes. In a whole other solar system,” says Loki.

  “My, my,” says Beatrice. Amy looks in the rear-view mirror and sees her patting Fenrir on her lap. “My, my.”

  For a few minutes, Amy drives in silence, too overwhelmed to speak. Beatrice must feel the same because she says nothing. After a while, Amy hazards a glance over at...Loki. His mouth is set in a firm line, his eyes focused far ahead. He looks handsome, noble even.

  “Can you drive faster?” he says. The question sounds genuine, not like he’s second guessing her driving skill.

  Amy looks down at the speedometer. She’s going all of 20 miles per hour. “Can I expect any oncoming traffic?” The road is narrow and straight, and there are a few rolling hills that could be dangerous.

  He closes his eyes. “There is none for at least 30 miles.”

  Amy glances sideways at him. “How do you know?”

  He tilts his head and then blinks. When he speaks he sounds slightly awed. “Astral projection. The concept has entered your vocabulary in the last sixty years. Even though you’re incapable of it.”

  She’s on another planet, on a yellow brick road; astral projection doesn’t seem like that much of a stretch of the imagination. “Good enough,” she says and hits the accelerator.

  For a few minutes, no one says anything. She glances and sees Loki’s eyes focused on the road, his mouth a thin line. She focuses directly ahead, her brain churning.

  “Why so solemn?” says Loki suddenly with joviality that sounds a little forced. “From you, Amy, I would expect it, but from you, Beatrice — ”

  He turns towards the back seat and then says softly. “She appears to be asleep.”

  Amy peeks in rear view mirror. Beatrice is slumped slightly to the side, her head bent, her eyes closed. Amy looks at the clock in the car. “Yes,” she says. “She normally takes a nap this time of evening.”

  “This isn’t exciting to her?” says Loki.

  Amy tilts her head. “It is exciting, maybe so exciting she needs a mental break...and...” Amy bites her lip. “People tend to nap a little bit more as they get older, and then not sleep so well at night. That doesn’t happen to...your people?”

  “We don’t get old,” says Loki.

  “Oh,” says Amy. She tilts her head. “Lucky.” She goes back to focusing on the road. Another planet...and Loki said something about time bending at the edges of the World Gate so —

  Loki sighs loudly. “Come now, there will be plenty of time for silence when you’re dead, and I’m...” He waves a hand dramatically, “Gagged with wire or stuck in a cave. Surely you have questions for me?”

  Amy’s eyes widen. “Sorry, I’m just over here quietly revising everything I thought I knew about the universe.”

  He chuckles. “What a novel way of expressing it.”

  And then Amy has a thought. “Astral projection isn’t one of your powers in the myths, but it is in the movies and comic books.”

  “I’m not sure I’m clear on how comic books and movies differ from myths,” says Loki. “Except in the medium.”

  “Well, myths exist for the purpose of explaining the universe and imparting moral values,” says Amy.

  “Don’t leave out entertainment,” says Loki.

  “Okay, and entertainment,” says Amy. “And comic books and movies, well, the type of movie and comic book we’re discussing, are for entertainment.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she can see Loki turning towards her, puzzlement on his face. “They don’t impart moral values or attempt to explain the universe?”

  Amy is about to say no, but then she blinks. “Actually...I guess they do. But in a more round-a-bout way.”

  “Myths aren’t exactly straightforward,” says Loki.

  “Touché,” says Amy, scowling at the road in front of her.

  “...or completely accurate,” he mutters.

  Amy smiles. “Yeah...no shape shifting. Right. Are you Thor’s brother? In the comic books you are.”

  There is a snort. “No.”

  Amy grips the steering wheel and narrows her eyes. “What about Sif’s hair.” It’s probably the most famous Loki myth. Sif was Thor’s wife. Loki cut off her hair as a prank and paid dearly for it, if she remembers right.

  She can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “Snip! Snip!”

  “Really?” Amy says, twisting her hands on the steering wheel. “Why?” It sounds positively childish.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224