Have a listen to "In a Crowd of Thousands" from the Broadway musical "Anastasia" before you begin. Trust me.
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VVVVVVVV
In a Crowd of Thousands
Chapter 5
"A Parade Passing By"
Loki stepped out, and blinked. He reflexively clenched the TemPad in his fingers, trying to focus his vision against the brilliant sunlight. Noise flooded his hearing, and he stepped backward as everything clarified. His arm bumped something hard, and he spun to face it.
He was standing beside a towering grey stone wall—he twisted to look up...
Towering spires speared the warm, sunny sky, like silent sentinels quietly observing the cacophony and chaos below. Instantly, Loki's entire being diminished as he gazed, lips parted, up at the heights of the awesome structure. His gaze ran across the intricate carvings and ornate bell towers. He didn't remember ever seeing this before. How had he missed it?
In a few moments, his gaze drifted from the spires to the buildings on either side—all of them just as imposing, though not as beautiful, creating a maze of geometric canyons between them. He swallowed.
He had just been in New York. Just days ago. For him, at least.
Yet…
This was not the same city.
It had been rebuilt, as if the damage done had simply been erased. No rubble cluttered the streets, no vehicles lay burning, no citizens ran in droves, screaming. Instead…
Thousands of people crowded the space before this magnificent building, and lined both sides of the broad street. Men in black uniforms and helmets, mounted on handsome bay horses, slowly paced back and forth, keeping the crowds from spilling past the ropes. The voices of all the people created a loud, continuous roar. Only the occasional siren blared out over them.
Loki frowned, stepping forward slowly. What was this? Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. To him, it looked like…
Well, if he had been in Asgard, he would have assumed they were preparing for a victory parade. Did they have such things on Midgard…?
Noise, off to the left. The thundering of drums. Loki put the TemPad in his pocket, rested his hand on the stone wall and strained up onto his toes, trying to see…
A massive group of people was marching in orderly lines, like an army, down the center of the street. They wore red and gold uniforms, and tall hats with feathers. They held flashing brass horns, and were led by a giant drum line, whose rhythms beat the air all around Loki's head. And three smiling girls in similar uniforms carried a long banner in front of this group of minstrels. A banner that read:
THE FIRST ANNUAL TONY STARK MEMORIAL GROUNDBREAKERS' PARADE: 2024
The massive group of minstrels then burst into song, playing a sharp and radiant melody, swinging their horns this way and that, making the sun glance off the golden surfaces as the drums kept shuddering the earth. Following this musical army came a strange vehicle: a miniature replica of Stark Tower on a platform, surrounded by gleaming Iron Man suits, standing with their heads bowed, their eyes glowing. The vehicle apparently propelled itself forward by magic. And at the top stage of the tower…
Three people stood. An elegant woman in a white skirt and jacket, with soft red hair and a smiling face. She waved at the crowds with one hand, whilst grasping the fingers of a little girl with her other hand. The little girl waved vigorously, too. And beside the woman stood a very young man with an intelligent face and light brown hair. He wore a suit and tie, and he smiled—though Loki seemed to think it carried sadness. Just as the woman's did.
But the crowd went absolutely mad when they saw these three people. They cheered, clapped and screamed, and several threw flowers. Loki wondered at this reaction. Who were they? Could they be Tony Stark's widow and children?
The procession continued. More floating platforms passed by, taking various shapes, resembling science equipment or starships. Several more groups of colorful musicians marched by between these platforms, also.
Loki's mouth tightened as he began glancing around. The crowd pressed close to him—a sea of people. Could he get through them? And if he could, which way should he go? Would anyone he asked know where Dr. Strange lived? Or would he have to use a locating spell?
Loki winced, his fingers closing to a fist. Ooh. Dr. Strange was called "the Sorcerer Supreme." Would he be able to cloak himself from magical searches? Could he appear and disappear at will? What exactly were his capabilities?
Loki's gaze began urgently flying over the heads of the people, and upward to the buildings. He tapped the side of his fist against the cool wall, his brow tightening. He needed to get away from this parade, away from this choking throng. If he could find somewhere quieter, either a forest or underground, he could prepare and—
Another ripple of cheers traveled through the crowd. Distractedly, Loki glanced toward the object of their attention…
He sucked in a breath. The world tilted—and froze.
A small white carriage, pulled by a beautiful white horse. The driver wore a white suit and top hat, his long whip dangling harmlessly over the animal's back.
A single person sat in the red seat of the carriage: a slight, winsome woman, wearing a simple, fitted white dress with a high collar. She wore her light brown hair in a low ponytail. She looked pale, which made her dark eyes shine, and her features beautiful as a faded rose. Beautiful and familiar. Thousands and thousands of unfriendly strangers—and one face he recognized. And that fact alone filled her with color, and made her as brilliant as a diamond against the sand. She smiled warmly, and waved one hand in a subdued, tired way. And upon the side of the carriage hung a sign:
Winner of the Beatrice M. Tinsley Prize by the American Astronomical Society
JANE FOSTER
Jane Foster.
"What…" Loki breathed, his heart bashing against his chest as his eyes went wide. And before he knew what he was doing, he stepped forward.
He instantly met resistance. People stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their backs to him. He turned sideways, fighting to slip between them.
"Forgive me, pardon me," he said quickly. "Excuse me, I need to come through. Thank you. Pardon me…"
The strangers grunted, they yelled "hey!" and a few of them cursed. Loki ignored them, shoving onward, craning his neck to find the carriage again…
It was coming. It was coming, and it would be past him before he even made it halfway through this crowd.
His mind raced. He could easily disguise himself as one of these uniformed men and shout at the people to get out of his way. Or, he could don the appearance of Steve Rogers, or Thor, or even Tony Stark. That would really make them scream and part ways.
But once he broke through and found his way to Jane Foster—
If she thought he was Rogers…or Thor…or Stark…
What would he say?
The carriage was coming. It was passing. Right in front of him. She turned her face away and waved to someone on the other side of the street.
Loki set his teeth.
No disguises. Not this time. A little realm-slipping would have to do.
He took a sharp breath, clapped his hands together and knifed them forward.
Heat exploded from his hands and shot through his body. And in a split second, he had threaded through the people without touching any of them, and burst onto the street.
He staggered, gasping. It had been a while since he'd done that…
His head swung around. The carriage was right there, in front of him. The horse swung its head to the side to eye him, but kept walking. The driver didn't notice. Loki darted forward—
And the next second, he hopped up on the step, slapped his hands down on the door of the carriage—
And Jane Foster, wide-eyed, whirled to face him.
"Jane!" he cried. The name burst from him far more loudly than it should have.
"Loki?" she yelped, her brilliant auburn gaze finding his. Her eyes flashed with instant recognition—
Recognition that sent a shaft of strange delight straight through his heart. In her eyes, he could suddenly see shared memories reflected: memories of Asgard, of gilded armor and flashing spears, of the starry skies above the spires of the palace, alabaster halls filled with the scents of lavender and roses…
How long had it been since someone had looked at him like that?
Then, disbelief and intense confusion flooded her, as her attention flashed all across Loki's torn hair, dirty shirt, bloodstained sleeve and bruised face. And as he watched, she lost her remaining color.
"But…" she stammered. "But…you—"
The driver finally turned around, and he frowned sharply.
"Miss Foster!" he barked. "Sir, get back from the side of the carriage!"
"Jane," Loki gasped, ignoring him and reaching into the carriage to flounder for her hand. He caught her left wrist and squeezed. "Jane, listen to me—"
"Sir, I am calling an officer over here!" the driver warned, hauling back on the reins and stopping the horse. Loki desperately held onto the door and Jane as the carriage jolted. And Jane, brow furrowed sharply, looked straight back at him.
For just an instant, Loki gripped her, staring back into her eyes, suddenly inarticulate.
"Jane," he finally repeated, his voice low and shaking. "Jane, whatever you remember about me—I need your help. You have no idea what..." His eyebrows drew together painfully, and he desperately moved his hand to her fingers, enfolding them. "Jane, I must see you."
"Sir, I've gotta ask you to step away from the carriage and put your hands behind your back."
The severe, masculine voice came from directly behind him, and a hand slapped down on his shoulder.
"Jane, please," Loki begged. "Please, Jane—"
The man behind him took a fistful of his shirt.
Panic lanced through Loki's chest. He tenaciously held Jane's gaze, squeezing her fingers tighter—
"Sir, step down!"
"324 West 89th Street," Jane whispered, her face now white as snow, her eyes locked with his.
"Ah!" Loki let out a shocked, pained sigh of release. He managed a smile, lifted her hand and kissed it—
Then spun, leaped off the carriage—
And with a terrific CRACK, disappeared in a spectacular green flash.
To be continued…
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