"No. No Prague. It's too-" I started.
"Prague is great! Why don't you go? Come on, Nell, go see the world!" Marie chimed in, trying to pull the phone from my hand.
"Marie!" I hissed, batting her scrabbling hands away.
"Are you in distress, Nell?" Loki asked, his voice radiating calm innocence.
"Not unless you count thwarting Marie's attempted plan to live vicariously through me," I growled from behind my teeth while glaring pointedly at Marie, who stuck her lower lip out as a pouty response.
"Does she require, ah, more reassurance as to your continued well-being?" he asked.
"I would've hoped the once was enough," I replied.
"If I may reiterate my point."
"What the hell," I muttered. "Fine. Marie." I passed the phone to her, watching her face break into a mischievous grin.
"This is Marie," she chirped. Her smile disappeared as she listened to Loki, then brightened as she inhaled to reply, "Yes, I know, but-" Her jaw snapped shut. "Oh really? Huh. Well, you just give me your word on that," she paused, listening. "All right, then. I will hold you to it. Laters!" She handed the phone back and I put it to my ear.
"Nell, there will be a car for you tomorrow morning, at 9. Get some rest," he commanded.
"Wait. Are we, uh, going to Prague?" I stammered incredulously.
"Where would you like to go?"
I pursed my lips in thought before replying, "Canada is a nice place, right? Can we start there? Get our, um, feet wet, so to speak?"
"As you wish, Nell," he cleared his throat and continued, "In the package I sent, you will find our revised contract, which I strongly advise you look over and sign as soon as possible. I will see you in the morning," he said, his voice low and businesslike.
"Hang on a sec, Loki. What did you say to Marie?"
"The usual fear quelling platitudes and oaths of obedience," he said, sounding bored.
"Sure. Because that's exactly what Marie sounds like when she's being placated," I said, letting the accusation hang in the air.
"Think what you like, Miss Keavy. Goodnight," he replied, not rising to the bait.
I sighed, "Good night, Loki."
"Sleep well, Eleanor."
I ended the call.
Marie had folded herself in to the couch as Loki and I finished our conversation; her mouth was full of spicily sauced veggies.
"So. What did he say to you?" I asked, keeping my tone light.
"What did he tell you he said?" she answered through a bite of carrots.
"First, ew. Second, when did the two of you get together and decide that straight answers aren't necessary?" I grumbled, stabbing Kung Pao chicken from the container, not bothering to use my chopsticks as they were intended.
The silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the crunching of peanuts and water chestnuts.
Marie let out a heavy sigh, then offered her container of vegetables.
"Don't sulk. Please? You're about to have an adventure and I have to stay here and I just need to know that my best friend won't disappear and experiment with space-time relativity and would you please just take a snow pea for god's sake?!"
I raised my eyebrows, then my chopsticks, grabbing a solitary snow pea from the container.
"I accept your peas offering," I said before crunching it down. I let out a giggle.
"Good. You gave peas a chance. And you laughed, which means I'm off the hook," Marie said with a smile. "Don't worry about what Loki said or didn't say. You call me when you can and don't do anything I wouldn't."
"Yes, Mama Dorcas."
"Sass. Are you packed?"
"Vaguely. I think I need to double check my underwear supply. Possibly do another load of laundry."
"Are you bringing functional, or," she looked at me from beneath her eyelashes, "Recreational undergarments?"
"You are the most ridiculous," I said, laughing. "The chief of the bra-and-panties-police does not get a say on this one."
"It's good to be the Chief," she gave a mock salute. "Does Nell accept bribes of ice cream from the Chief? Because there's a pint of Dublin Mudslide that could have her name on it...if she lets me pick her wardrobe," Marie batted her eyes at me.
"Alas, no. I am not to be bribed by messrs. Ben or Jerry this evening," I stood, setting my half empty container of Kung Pao chicken on the coffee table. "Packing. Laundry. Bed."
"Suit yourself," she dove back into her veggies. "I'll clean up the leftovers. Go do that stuff, and then sleep. Your tomorrow sounds busy, and I don't want you repeating the scenario from two nights ago."
"Like you've never had a wild night," I yawned. "I'll see you in the morning. Make coffee?"
"Only if you let me pick out something for your travel wardrobe…"
"Ugh, fine. But do it tomorrow."
She pulled a fist down in triumph. "Will do, champ."
"Bah," I mumbled as I shuffled up the stairs to my bedroom. Ready, Nell? Starting packing.
I pulled a sturdy, smallish duffel bag from my closet, unzipped it, and sighed.
It is going to be a long night.
2 Weeks Later
Grass squeaked between my feet and worn cobblestones as I picked my way down a narrow, foggy street.
"I changed my mind. I don't need to see the original context. Or the site. I'll just take your word for it," I whispered to Loki as we walked side by side. "I've spent too much time on this one already. Let's just find a suitable drop site, leave it, and get some coffee."
"You said you wanted authenticity, Nell. Once we get to our intended destination, you'll see that it is the perfect place," he replied directly into my ear.
The fog limited our visibility to a few feet, and I had no idea where Loki was taking us.
"Do you think we'd find it faster if it jumped up and shouted, 'Marco!' at us?" I asked jokingly.
"That is the most inane game yet, my dear Nell. It's pointless, and references a historical figure known for inflating his stories to extreme proportions," he purred, his voice low in deference to our shared space.
"Well, you just know everything about everyone. Why am I even here, again?" I responded, my voice laden with sarcasm.
Loki inhaled, "Do I-"
My gasp stopped his reply. A shaft of morning sunlight broke through the fog before us, glinting softly off dew covered stone. I was not expecting...this.
"That. The expression on your face right now. That is why you are here. And to keep me humble, of course," he proclaimed with a satisfied smirk.
"How can we leave anything here and be inconspicuous? This has to be the most noticeable place in Istanbul," I snapped, jolted from my awestruck moment by sheer incredulity.
"The Blue Mosque holds that title, in my opinion," he said. "We aren't leaving it here. There's an entrance to the old cisterns at the opposite end of the Hippodrome, which, at this hour, should be free of archaeological tourists. We shall leave it there. Also-" he continued, holding up one finger to stop my frustrated stammering, "Before you go on about conservation woes and the vast variable that is time, there's an excavation set to begin in the next three days. They will find it, and be praised for uncovering such an important and previously unknown object from the First Iconoclastic Controversy. They will be so overjoyed. Of course, it won't come into public knowledge for at least five years. Carbon dating and, your favorite thing, authentication."
He pulled me along the narrow street, the sounds of our hurried footsteps absorbed by the clinging mist.
"Many Byzantine icons were destroyed or lost to time," he drawled.
"Or to thieves. Which you are," I retorted.
"With only the best of intentions," he said, defensive.
"Always have to have the last word, don't you?" I said, and pulled my arm from his to drop behind him. My hands found Steve's pockets, touching the reason for our early morning visit. The icon was small, a portable and therefore easily saved Theotakos. It remained out of sight, but I knew the subject intimately. A mother and child painted on wood panel, dark eyes and swaths of fabric stark against the soft golden background.
In the couple of weeks since Loki and I began our arrangement, we'd traveled to four cities in three countries, Istanbul being the latest. The sheer amount of art he possessed was mind boggling. He'd managed to keep the exact location of the storehouse hidden, but he did rent out a large storage space in each city we'd visited. Each unit had the exact same layout, complete with a mysterious door-to-nowhere at the back of the space. Where does that go? What is beyond? A tug on my right wrist from Steve brought me back to the present. What? Are we there?
"Nell," Loki hissed from a niche. "This way." He put a finger to his lips, motioning me to follow.
"Are we secret agents, now?" I rolled my eyes.
"You wanted to be inconspicuous," he replied. "I was just playing along. Come on." His eyes narrowed, searching the fog.
I rubbed the corner of the Theotakos again, then unbelted Steve. I have a strange feeling…
Loki pulled me through a doorway into the cistern. It was cooler, more humid than the foggy atmosphere above. And it's dark. Hey Steve, got a light? I chuckled. Steve's embroidery started to glow, illuminating a dark stairwell an eerie, green cast. That's new. That would've been helpful in Toronto.
"It never used to show off like this. Not even when I asked nicely," Loki pouted from the step beneath me, his tall form silhouetted by Steve's incandescence. "This should do nicely," he said, running a fingertip along a shallow shelf. "These held lamps, once. Less...harsh, than torchlight. More...refined," he mused. With a snap of his fingers, Loki conjured a small witch-light. "Go on then."
I swallowed, pulling out the icon, its golden background gleaming in our magical light. It fit on the shelf, not perfectly, but in a forgotten sort of way that seemed right; like the one who'd left it had stepped out for a cup of strong coffee and an afternoon of leisurely conversation. Loki's witch-light reflected the gold paint, creating an illusion of movement from the figures within it.
Steve squeezed my shoulder as the embroidery's light faded. I didn't realize we were invisible until-
"Dammit, cloak," Loki swore, his eyes roving from the top of my head to my feet, side to side, searching for a glimpse of me.
I grabbed Loki's hand, the one not holding the witch-light. "Hush. Someone is coming," I said as he winked out of sight. He gave my hand a squeeze in silent understanding.
Voices drifted down the stairwell, "Been following since Toronto...She's not come up on any database...Not even a parking ticket…"
I smirked. Knew it. Street parking level: ninja. Be serious, Nell. They're talking. About. You.
A flashlight's bright beam cut through the murky darkness and I gasped, wrapping myself in Steve's woolly bulk. You are invisible. Stay quiet. Stay. Quiet. My heart thumped in my chest; it jumped frantically from my throat to the pit of my stomach and back again. Shitshitshitshit. What the fuck is going on? Fuckfuckfuckityfuck.
I struggled to keep my breathing silent. Loki gripped my hand with fingers I knew to be cool; they now felt warm and clammy.
No. Nonononono. Not now.
Steve pressed my shoulders to the crumbling wall as the flashlight beam edged ever closer.
I felt a hand, Loki's hand, now bereft of witch-light, cup the side of my face. His thumb rubbed my cheekbone, soft and rhythmic, as he pressed us both to the wall.
"Negative. They must've made me and doubled back to their hotel. Dammit. Who knows where they'll go from here? Meet at the rendezvous by twenty-one hundred hours. We'll have to start again."
The flashlight, and its bearer, retreated up the stairs.
Jesus Christ on a crutch.
As the footsteps faded, Loki dropped his hand from my face and summoned the witch-light again.
"Nell," he whispered, eyes finding mine in the gloom. "We have to go. Now. Do you need your medicine?"
I took a slow breath, "No. I'll be okay. Let's just get outside."
"Of course," he said. He reaffirmed his hold on my hand as we escaped the cistern into the golden morning light of Istanbul.