CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Loki didn't know how long he lay there, curled up in a puddle. It might have been seconds; he barely even noticed that any time was slipping by. It might have been hours. It may have even been years, for all he knew, because he found all of a sudden that everything before Balder's arrival had gone blank; his memory was foggy, every feeling he ought to have remembered dimmed by a resonating pain he couldn't tune out.

However much time went by, he eventually forced himself to stand up: dragging himself across the roof, sliding down the buttress to the floor below, somehow coming to land gracefully on his feet despite the fact that his body felt like lead. He was surprised to find that his chambers-or rather, the part of his chambers that hadn't been destroyed in the fight-were crowded with chattering, whispering people. A servant close to the wall spotted Loki and turned to shush his neighbor. As if it were choreographed, the entire room went silent. Everyone-servants, ladies-in-waiting, guards, noblemen and women-turned to stare at Loki. Loki stared right back at them, slightly befuddled even in his dull haze. Their eyes weren't full of the pitying, condescendingly sad looks that people out on when they went to funerals. As a matter of fact, the overwhelming impression he got from the room was one of curiosity and half-fabricated gossip. There was a brief reprise in the noise as Relygyr parted the crowds to approach Loki.

Loki looked to the corner of the room where the crowd was densest, the corner where Darcy...where she had fallen. "Where is the body?" he asked quietly.

"There is no body."

Loki turned to Relygyr with alarm. He began to ask what on earth he meant by that, but the words died in his throat. His question came out as a quiet, strangled, "wha-?"

Relygyr put his hands up to calm Loki. "Nothing to fear, Loki. She's alright. Darcy is alive," he said hurriedly.

Loki froze. "Darcy is-"

"She's in the infirmary," Relygyr interrupted. "She's unconscious, but it looks as though she's going to survive." He frowned. "What in Asgard happened? How did all of this happen?"

Loki straightened up and strode from the room before Relygyr could finish his questions. "Excuse me," he said bluntly, not even stopping to see if the crowd parted before he pushed his way through their ranks.

"Where is she?"

Ealyse looked up at the sound of Loki's voice. She put down the bandages she was rolling and crossed the room to stand before him. "Loki..."

"Where is she? Where's Darcy?" he demanded, trying to sidestep Ealyse to get to the room behind her, just around the corner.

"She's with the healer," said Ealyse, mirroring Loki's steps and preventing him from going any further with a firm hand on his chest. "My own knowledge of magic wasn't sufficient to mend her injuries; we called the best healer in the realm."

"Let me see her," Loki said harshly. He abandoned his attempt at sidestepping Ealyse in favor of pushing forward with brute strength.

"Loki, if you storm in there like this you're going to startle the healer! She could accidentally hurt Darcy if she's not paying attention."

Loki relented. He slouched in defeat and stared in Darcy's direction longingly.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

"It's a miracle she's alive." Ealyse crossed her arms. "I've never seen anyone hurt so badly live to tell the tale. I don't know how to explain it, but her body must have healed itself somehow. Her sternum and three of her ribs are fractured, and I suspect her lungs will be a little bit bruised, but considering the fact that her attacker had a sufficient mastery of magic to blast a hole in the wall, her injuries ought to have been much worse."

"What of the frostbite?" Loki asked.

Ealyse raised her eyebrows. "Frostbite?"

"She was shot with a bolt of ice," he said. "A massive one. Knowing her attacker's magical prowess, that ice bolt like that would have been powerful enough to give even Thor a lethal amount of frostbite."

Ealyse narrowed her eyes at Loki. "Loki, I examined her myself. There was no sign of frostbite."

Loki became very still. A thought occurred to him...

No. No, that couldn't be it...

A short, plump woman with graying hair entered the room. "Are you Prince Loki?" she asked.

He hurried forward. "Yes, I am. Where is Darcy? Is she alright?"

The healer pursed her lips. "She'll live. I managed to repair her broken bones and some of the bruising, but I'm afraid she's in a bit of a shock at the moment."

"Let me see her," Loki said. "I'll calm her down."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," the healer said. She nodded to one of the cots. "You might want to sit down."

"Why? What's the matter?" he stammered. "I thought you said she'll live."

"She will. But there's something else." She raised an eyebrow. "Your wife is going to have a baby."