Be warned, there is more torture to come in this chapter.

One thing we know about Loki though is that he is willing to do pretty much anything to get what he wants, and in this chapter he learns a few lessons along the way.

Enjoy Xx

Charlie had been right about Mertice's potion. Whatever it is, it does burn.

I grit my teeth against the pain, and really, in my current position, dangling from my shackled wrists with my feet inches from the floor, it's the only defense I have against it. The fire consumes me, burning from the point of injection right through to my extremities. When it reaches the centre of my chest, the place where my new magic has grown in me, it becomes napalm, consuming everything and leaving only emptiness and agony in its wake. My dislocated shoulder howls. My broken ribs feel like they will simply burst apart. Distantly, I hear my own screams echoing in the cavernous room as I am torn to shreds. I close my eyes briefly. When I open them again I find myself lying on the cold stone floor with my head spinning and my whole body aching.

"We have to be careful," a deep voice says from somewhere in the gloom of the vault. I recognize it as Mertice's. "It's affecting his memory."

Suddenly I get an image of myself, face to face with him as he explains the careful way in which this room has been designed. It is situated directly below the majority of the cells, so that the inmates above can hear every scream you make. It keeps them compliant, he says, if they know what's waiting for them should they disobey.

"Maybe we were wrong. He's too weak to take it," Jim answers.

I see Jim, with a look of terrible pleasure on his face, gently pressing the toe of his boot to my side, only stopping when he hears the crack- the sound of three of my ribs breaking- and the scream that comes after. These memories assault me over and over again, until I remember why I had passed out moments before. The injection, I think. That damned injection.

"I'm not wrong, Jim," Mertice murmurs. "Just give it time."

"We don't have time. The full moon is only hours―"

"We have time," Mertice interrupts sharply, brooking no argument.

At the mention of the full moon I remember why I am here, and I begin to panic. I reach for the vial of Charlie's blood, and breathe a small sigh of relief to find it still there. After the beating that they have given me, I fully expected it to be broken, or taken, but now, knowing that it's safe, I move my mind onto the game at hand. "What do you want from me?" I croak, playing for more time. I had intended my voice to be demanding, but the pathetic quality of the question brings their attention to me more effectively than if I had shouted. I sound as if I am beginning to crack.

"Ah, so you're back then," Mertice says, squatting down beside me.

"Tell me, is it the Tesseract?" My voice hitches on the last word, unintentional but convincing all the same. "Is that what you want?"

He laughs a little and smiles wickedly. "Even if I dared to aim so high, you've rather spoiled that idea for everyone now, haven't you? Besides, I have my own plan, one that's guaranteed to work."

"You sound very sure of that," I say, leading him into telling me. It's not that I'm interested- I'm really not, and after tonight, it won't matter what he wants- it's just a way to stall the inevitable. By now I can see Jim hovering behind Mertice, just itching to inject me once more with their poison, and I feel that I need a moment to stop my heart from racing before they make me endure the fire again. "What has all this to do with me?"

"To start with this had nothing to do with you. You just turned up, in the right place at the right time, that's all. Knowing who you are, I might even have offered you a way off this world if Charlie hadn't taken you as his lover, but now….well, you were sent here as punishment, no? This one seems fitting."

The words "off of this world" echo in my head. Hadn't Charlie told me that there was no way off? I try hard to remember, but through the haze of pain, nothing comes to me. "You said that you needed my help," I say, trying to push away the thought that Charlie may have lied to me.

"You misunderstood me," he says with fake sympathy. "This is what I need your help with. I don't know what this potion does to mortals, and I need to find out."

"There are plenty of other mortals for you to experiment on," I say. I gaze into those pale blue eyes, so lifeless, and so completely devoid of mercy. Fear knots my stomach as I finally understand him. I had been so sure that they were torturing me because they wanted something from me that I hadn't even considered the fact that they may have been doing it simply because they could. "Leave me be," I say without hope.

"I need a mortal with magic, and I haven't found a single person on this planet with a magical potential to match yours." I frown, not sure that I have heard him correctly. His smile widens and he says, "It's just another thing to add to the list of things that you haven't been told. They very carefully didn't tell you that if you had stopped trying to use your magic as a weapon, and let it become part of you, you could have made the things that Percy is capable of look like cheap circus tricks. You have as much power now as you had before. It just works differently on this world." He stands and steps back from me.

The chain above me is pulled taut again, and I can't hold back the words that escape me. "Please, don't," I beg. I try to fight back but it's impossible, and I have no choice but to follow the chain upwards, crying out as my shoulder is jarred.

"Really, I should thank you before we go any further," he says once I am secured. "All this would have taken so much longer if it hadn't been for you. Charlie would have worked it out. He would have run, again, and it would have taken us months to track him down. But you made him stay. You even managed to convince him―," here he laughs again, as if he can not quite believe what he is about to say, "―that he stood the slightest chance of winning against us. And single handedly, I might add, because he wasn't about to let you join him, was he?" He watches me sway on the end of the chain for a moment before he continues. "It took you a while, but eventually you did manage to lie to him."

My heart skips a beat. Have they bought into the game, or am I now being played myself? There is no way to tell. "He lied to himself," I say, as if his words have meant nothing to me. "It's what he wanted to believe. I just helped him along a little."

"Like Jim said, you do know how to play the cruel edge." Mertice retreats and Jim comes forward with the needle.

I'm not the only one, I think, before I feel it slide into my flesh.

The fire burns far hotter this time, and it's obvious to me that they have decided to up the dose. Time is suspended, and I have no idea how long I am held like this, burning in the fires of hell. It seems to me, though, that there is another step to be taken, yet another level of torture, and in the moments before it ignites my magic, I realize how afraid I am. I have no protection, no last minute trick, and no idea of what to do. I am about to be torn apart and there is nothing I can do to prevent it.

With a jolt I realize that tearing me apart is exactly what this concoction is trying to do, but not in the way I think. I set my mind to work, trying my best to ignore the pain. What if I can use it somehow? I had seen what it had done to Charlie and Roxbury. What if I can use it to turn me into something else, stronger than I am now? It's not something I will do lightly, having witnessed the change first hand, but then the circumstances are extreme. Cassie's voice comes floating from my memory: "Oh, Loki, you better be ready to do something completely crazy if you mean to stay there after the wolves have transformed."I think I might know what she meant now, and I see, finally, how I am to survive this. But how am I to make it work? Mertice had given me the clue that I need, telling me to let the magic become part of me, and Charlie had said something similar: you have to give in to it. With Charlie's mind now free to think as it did before I put my last spell on him, had he foreseen this? Were these cryptic words the only advice he could give to me in the time we had, knowing what they intended to do?

There is only one way to find out, and seeing as it is the only plan I am likely to come up with before this poison kills me, I force myself to relax. I try to separate the two things: The potion, the fire raging inside me, and the magic, something as much a part of me as my blood or hair or bones. It's difficult, seeing as the two are now melded together, and are busy trying to snuff out all thought with immense pain, but I put all my effort into it, and, far sooner than I expected, I begin to feel a change. I am so shocked by it that I almost ruin the whole thing, letting my concentration slip just a fraction, but then I re-double my efforts. The pain doesn't lessen, but it does change, becoming something more natural, feeling, almost, like something that belongs within me.

Later, I will swear that in the few seconds before the potion let me go, I felt magic and potion become truly separate, could feel the bones in my fingers begin to rearrange themselves, and that my senses became sharper, blinding me with their momentary brilliance. For now though, the lights and fire begin to fade, and I hang limp from the shackles, weak after expending so much energy. I can see Jim wandering around restlessly, murmuring about how close to the full moon we now are, and it seems that time has indeed passed, more than I could have hoped for.

Mertice plants himself in my line of vision, all the better to show me the look of smug satisfaction now marring his delicate features. "Well now," he croons, totally disregarding Jim's worried words. "That's more like it."

The look he gives me, like I was a dog who had finally performed a long practiced trick well, causes something animal to rise up in me, and without meaning to I spit directly in his face. He doesn't flinch, but that proud look turns into disappointment, as if he hadn't truly expected anything else from me after all. Jim comes forward, fists raised, ready to stand up for his master. He manages to land one blow – to my broken ribs, of course – before Mertice stops him.

"Let him down and leave him here for now. You come back for him later. I want him to witness our plan come to fruition."

Some unseen person lets loose the chain, and not gently. I crash to the flagstones, and there lie gasping like a hooked fish as the sound of their footsteps fade. Soon enough though, I manage to regain my composure, and I allow myself a small, satisfied smile. He wants to show me his plan, but an egotistical man like Mertice would want to explain it first, and revel in his own importance. He would send Jim away, of that I am certain, for what harm could I possibly cause him, weak mortal that I am. I might get the chance to use Charlie's blood, and if I do, I might also get the chance to use the bracelet of binding.

I feel for the vial again, just for my peace of mind. Once I am sure of the cool glass beneath my fingers, I make a pass with my right hand over my upper forearm in the way that Percy had shown me. The bracelet materializes, quickly becoming a solid and reassuring band. I had never given it back to Charlie after he had tossed it to me at the murderers cave, and he had never asked me to return it. In one of our private lessons I had had Percy show me its workings, never truly believing that I would get the chance to use it, but wanting to take it with me nevertheless. Freed from my anxiety somewhat, I allow myself to slip into and exhausted sleep, knowing that I need to regain some of my strength in order to face what is to come. My last thought is, as always now, of Charlie, and I imagine that I can feel his warmth pressed into my back and his strong arms around me, holding me safe while I dream.

I am kicked into wakefulness by Jim, who obviously intends to take out his frustration on me in any way he can now that Mertice isn't here to stop him. I curl into a ball, trying to protect myself from the worst of it, but, using the chain, he drags me up onto my knees, only to then send me sprawling with a terrific back handed blow to my face. I watch in mild fascination as the blood now gushing from my nose patters down between my splayed hands. He turns me over, pulls me up by my shirt slightly and leans down until we are face to face.

"I really don't see what's so fucking special about you," he snarls.

"Jealous are we," I ask, mockingly, and regret it an instant later as I realize, too late, what he is about to do. He lets go of me, takes a step back, and then with all his might, he stamps down onto my left hand. The pain is incredible, almost causing me to pass out again, but he shakes me awake before I can retreat into unconsciousness.

"I don't think so," he says. "He wants words with you."

I am dragged once more through the dim maze that makes up the inside of the castle. Jim takes every opportunity to hurt me along the way, until we reach Mertice's throne room where, quite theatrically, I stumble and fall to my knees upon entering, never taking my eyes from Mertice. I watch him take in my bloodied face and shirt, the camber of my dislocated left shoulder, and my mangled hand held up protectively to my chest.

No emotion crosses his face but he says, "Leave us," to Jim in a way that suggests that he strongly disapproves of what he has done.

"But―" he begins.

"Don't question me. Leave us."

I can tell Jim wants to argue, but for now he thinks better of it. Somehow, I find the strength to smile up at him, seeing now how he has secured his master's fate by beating me black and blue. He sneers back at me and then does as he is bid, leaving me on my own with Mertice. I can feel my pulse quicken now, and excitement begins to build in me, although I'm careful not to show it. I struggle to my feet and limp my way over to the desk in the middle of the room. It has been cleared of the myriad bottles and papers that had covered it when I was last here. Now, in its centre sits a single bottle of potion, the only weapon that I will now be able to use with any efficiency. I hope.

"Have you figured it out yet?" he asks, bringing my attention back to him. "Do you know what I'm planning?"

"Not entirely," I answer. "Although I'm sure that it has something to do with world domination."

He laughs and once more descends the dais, just like he had before. He places the goblet of wine he had been holding on the desk as he passes, and says, "Something like that. I want to show you something before we continue."

I barely hear this last sentence as I stare at the goblet with reverence. I move closer and see that it contains blood, not wine. I am dumbfounded. Is it really going to be this easy? I check over my shoulder and see that he has his back to me. Easy or not, I have to take this opportunity, for I won't get another like it. I awkwardly take out the vial and empty its contents into the goblet, my heart in my mouth all the time, and I have it hidden away again before I hear him return. He moves the goblet, places a map in front of me, and then downs the blood in one go. I stare at him, wondering if this is a dream. He stares back for a moment before he starts to cough, his hand going to his mouth, blood seeping between his fingers. The goblet crashes to the floor. His eyes narrow accusingly and he makes a swipe at me, but I am already out of reach. I manage to lock and bolt the door before I hear Jim start to shout on the other side of it. Painfully, I move a large lump of wood into the cradles that are designed to hold it. They will need a battering ram to get through here now, and I head slowly back to Mertice, knowing that we won't be disturbed for a while yet.

He is bent double over the table. His blood stains the map, making it illegible, and it spreads over the sides of the table to drip onto the floor. He has become weak, weak enough for me to maneuver, and with my good arm I lead him over to the dais. He trips up the step, landing directly on the throne, and his eyes go to the bracelet that I hadn't bothered to hide again, widening when they recognize what it is. Quickly, I slide it from my arm. He tries to struggle, knowing what I am about to do, but he is too slow to remove the hand that is clutching feebly at the arm of his gaudy chair. I breathe magic onto the copper, feeling it grow warm in my hand, and then place it over his wrist, speaking the words of binding in my mind as Percy had taught me to.

"Percy never lied to me about my magic, Mertice," I say when it is done. "I know exactly what I am capable of."

"Damn you!" he screams at me, and then he laughs. "What now, hmm? What more can you do to me. You're weak, pathetic! You don't have the discipline to end this."

There are no windows in this room, and I have no way of telling how close the full moon is, but there is a certain feeling of anticipation in the air, and I judge that I don't have long. I lean on the table and stare at him, bleeding on the throne, the visual symbol of his power. I realize how disgusting it is, somehow, and how pointless. He had spent centuries sitting there, believing in his own strength and the strength of his people, while the world around him grew and became strong itself. If he had bothered to step outside, even for a moment, or if he had paid any real attention to his captives, he would have seen their strength, and he would have thought twice about everything he was doing.

I had thought about rehearsing a speech, some kind of triumphant rhetoric for him if we ever came to the place where we are now, but looking at him, I really only have one thing to say, and it is more for me than him, a reminder, so that I never forget. "Complacency will get you killed."

He laughs his derision. "You would know all about complacency wouldn't you? What do you hope to achieve here. They'll be through that door shortly, and then you'll wish you never bothered!"

I can hear the angry shouts on the other side of the door, and slowly I begin to count under my breath. When I reach ten the anger turns to surprise and then fear. Clearly, I hear Jim say to no one in particular, "Christ, how did they get out?" and I allow myself a slow smile.

Mertice looks panicked now, confused. "What have you done?" he whispers. I don't deign to answer. Instead I pick up the vial from the table, and slowly uncork it with my thumb, letting the glass stopper smash on the floor. He makes another attempt at making me stop, saying loudly, "It'll kill you, you know that."

My smile now has turned into a grin. "You don't believe that," I say. I salute him with the glass before I drink down the clear, foul liquid, never taking my eyes from his as I do so.

Suddenly, I drop the vial on the stones beneath me, where it shatters beside the stopper, and I fall to my knees, screaming as I am overcome.