Author's Note: Hey, all. Thanks so much for your reviews and messages! They make my day. Here's the next chapter!

Chapter 15

"...you think we should wake him?"

"It's almost breakfast time."

"But...look at him!"

There was a pause.

"You're right. Maybe we should just let him sleep."

"Deerda said to wake him, though."

Another pause.

"Maybe we should think of it this way: Would you want to tell any of the adults that we let a chance pass to get him fed?"

A hand gripped Loki's shoulder and shook him. "Loki? Loki, wake up."

Reluctantly Loki dragged his eyes open before pulling the blankets over his head. "Mmmmph." He was nowhere near ready to get up.

Someone pulled the blankets off his head. "Good morning, little brother. It's almost breakfast time."

Loki lifted his head from his pillow and glared at the four young men crowding the room. "I'm not your brother, and I'm not hungry. I want to sleep." He was tired down to the center of his bones.

"We're having hotcakes and jam," the one on the left coaxed. "With bacon."

Loki grabbed the blankets and pulled them up to his shoulders, revolving in them until he'd twisted them around his body. He wished them luck disentangling him from that when he resembled nothing so much as a caterpillar. "Woo. Go away." He buried his head in the pillow and closed his eyes. Not even bacon was going to get him out of that bed.

Hands grabbed him and lifted him off the bed, blankets and all. "It's time to get up, and you don't have long to get dressed. Better hurry." Still wrapped up, he was placed on his feet and divested of his blanket, leaving him wondering if he could justifiably commit murder in this case. "Hey!"

The tallest of them looked Loki up and down. "You know, we help with the younger kids all the time, and some of them are your size. We know how to get them dressed, too."

Loki heard the threat and knew he meant it. "Fine. Where are my clothes?"

"In the trunk at the foot of your bed, and the washroom is through that door over there. Once you're done, come through this door into the living area," he said, motioning with his head. "We'll be waiting there."

Feeling murderous, Loki opened the trunk and began pulling out clothes. "Wait a minute. Where are my clothes? The ones I came in?"

They looked at each other. "Probably being washed? Hurry up, Deerda's going to kill us if we're late."

Loki gave him a dark look. "Do you promise?"

"She'll kill you, too," one of the quieter ones pointed out.

The first one shook his head. "No, he's too cute. She'll most likely cuddle him and try to feed him."

I'll set her hair on fire if she tries that, Loki thought vengefully, still holding the clothes. They were different from the Jotun clothes he'd worn so far. The shirt had an asymmetrical hem, there was bright embroidery on the hem, cuffs, and collar, and it was a color that made him think of fresh cream. The pants were a light brown and just as soft as the shirt, and there was a dark brown vest that was longer than the shirt. There were socks, a pair of soft-soled boots, and...a length of fabric with fringe. What was it, a sash? Maybe it was like the one he'd worn on the Sun Festival? There were no buttons expect at the collar of his shirt and everything else tied. There were more clothes in the chest and Loki looked at them. None of them were what he'd arrived wearing. "Um, is this what you wear during the day?"

The tallest one looked. "Not a fringed sash. That's for special occasions. There should be a plain wrap-sash in there. It goes on over the shirt and vest around your waist, and you tuck in the end once you've wrapped it."

Loki located the sash and took the lot into the washroom. There were towels and washcloths, soap, and sinks that had running hot and cold water. He washed and wondered just how they'd managed pipes in a cave. He dried off, hung the towel and washcloth to dry on a hook, and dressed. The sash was a little tricky, but he managed it, and last of all he slipped on the boots. He felt a twinge of disquiet as he tied the laces. The soles were very thin: how were they supposed to protect his feet? Even worse, if he never got his boots from home back, how was he going to travel in these flimsy boots when he finally escaped from this place?

Telling himself to think about it later, he left the washroom and went back to his room. The bed had been made, so he folded his pajamas and tucked them under the pillow and went out the door that had been pointed out to him earlier. They were waiting there, as promised, and they led him down the hall and into a large room, filled with the buzz of quiet conversation. A sweet and savory aroma hit him and his mouth watered.

The room they'd led him to was a large, circular room with a tall ceiling. Crystals embedded in rock overhead emitted bright, steady light, almost as strong as sunlight. In the center was a large, round rug, a few chairs, and some oversized cushions, and against the left wall there were several low bookcases holding books and boxes. There was a long, scrubbed wooden table and stools on the right side of the room, and next to a cart a woman was standing there, fists on her hips and tapping her foot, the very picture of impatience. "You're lucky the food's not cold, boys."

"It took us a few minutes to get Loki up and moving," the tall one said. "Sorry, Deerda."

Giggles drew Loki's attention to the table. There were young men and women his age, and all of the girls were staring at him and smiling. He suddenly felt the urge to hide.

Deerda's face softened and she glanced at Loki. "All right. Sit down, then, and we'll get you breakfast."

All the boys pulled out stools and sat down. The last place left was right next to the head of the table, so Loki pulled out a stool, climbed up onto it, and immediately felt like an idiot. The tabletop was at the height of his sternum.

Sometimes, he really hated being as small as he was.

"Try this," Deerda said. In the next moment she'd picked him up, placed a cushion on the stool, and placed him on top of it.

The height was much better, but he had a vague sense of outrage that she'd just picked him up and moved him around like that. "Thank you."

She patted him absently on the head and Loki had to fight down the urge to stab her with a fork. She passed out the serving dishes holding the food, everyone served themselves, and shortly Loki had a plate full of food in front of him.

"I hope you're hungry," Deerda said as she sat down next to him. "We have berry or apple jam for your hotcakes. Which would you like?"

"Berry, please."

Deerda handed him a glazed earthenware pot with a spoon in it, and Loki spooned some jam onto his hotcakes and passed the jar along. He had three large, fluffy hotcakes in front of him and four strips of bacon. Next to his plate was a fork and cup, and Deerda was just pouring something into it. He picked up the cup and smelled it, smiling when he recognized the scent. Hata tea, and he could smell the honey in it. At last, something familiar that wasn't bread! He sipped at the tea then dug into his hotcakes. After the first mouthful it struck him just how hungry he was, and he ate the next bite with more enthusiasm before starting on the bacon. It was smokey and savory and oh, so good. Another sip of tea and he returned to the hotcakes.

"Feel better?" Deerda asked once Loki's plate was almost empty.

"Much," Loki admitted. "What happens after breakfast?"

"We clean up, and then your tutor comes for your morning lessons."

Loki froze. "Tutor?" He did not intend to be there long enough to start any kind of lessons.

Deerda patted his head. "Of course, dear. Who else did you think would teach you youngsters?"

Loki thought about it. "You?"

She chuckled. "Bless you, child! No, I don't have the learning for it, but it's sweet of you to say. Gairagh is the one trained to teach youngsters your age, so he'll be the one to teach you. He knows a great deal."

Does he know how to get out of here and back to Laufey and Farbauti? Loki wondered as he finished his tea.

Once everyone finished eating, everyone cleared their own places, and together they stacked the plates and cups on the cart and stowed the eating utensils and soiled napkins. Cloths were produced by Deerda to wipe the table down and several of the boys fetched brooms and dustpans from a nearby recess to sweep under and around the table to pick up any crumbs. Once that was complete, Deerda bid them all a good morning and wheeled the cart out, leaving them on their own.

"Deerda's the one in charge of bringing us our meals," one of Loki's wakers told him. "You can count on seeing her two or three times a day. Usually she's in the kitchen, so if you're ever down there, you can count on her trying to feed you."

"What is a day here like?" Loki asked, feeling a bit adrift. It would help if he knew what the routine was. If he did, then he would know the right times to attempt slipping away.

"Well, like Deerda said, Gairagh's our tutor and he comes after we finish breakfast. He teaches us until lunch, and then we have a break and we go to the kymnas for a glass. After the kymnas we have two glasses of quiet pursuits until mid-afternoon and we settle down for a rest. After our rest we head down to the lower levels for chores and then we all go to dinner to see our families. After dinner and time spent with our families we come back here, and we can do what we like until bed."

"What's a glass and a kymnas?"

It took them a bit of explaining, but after a while he grasped that a glass was about an hour and a half and a kymnas was an area where they could run around and get exercise.

"You'll like it, Loki," one of the girls promised. "It's lots of fun!"

"Thank you…?" No one had introduced themselves.

"Oh, my name's Kira," she said, giving a self-conscious smile. "Arust and Amaira came a few days ago to tell us you were coming. Pleased to meet you."

One by one the others introduced themselves and Loki noticed that all of the girls seemed very...interested...in him. They kept sneaking little glances at him and then looking again. All those little glances were making him uncomfortable.

A man swept in then, and he was sporting two nubby tusks. Loki shuddered when he saw them.

"Good morning, my scholars!" the man said brightly. "Time to get started!"

Everyone rushed to a cabinet against the wall and took out baskets holding slates, abacuses, and square floor cushions. Loki looked after them, saw the teacher watching them and not him, and began to slink toward the doorway. A hand landed on his shoulder when he was halfway there. "Where are you going, youngster?"

"The classroom?" It was the only thing Loki could think to say without the man getting suspicious.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he gave a chuckle. "You're already in the classroom, dear boy. You're Loki, aren't you? We don't need a special room just to learn in. Come and sit down."

Loki let himself be shepherded back to the group. All of them had placed cushions on the floor and took their seats, and Loki settled onto a spare cushion. Kira handed him a slate, chalk, a piece of felt, and an abacus.

"Time for mathematics, my scholars," Gairagh stated as he seated himself on a cushion of his own. "Who remembers what we were working on yesterday?"

One of the boys, Cledas, raised his hand. "Series."

"Glad to see you were paying attention, Cledas. Loki, are you familiar with series?"

This was not a topic that had been covered by his tutors, or if it had been, it had been covered under a different name. "Series of what?"

"Number series," Gairagh clarified, lifting a larger slate onto his lap and writing. He turned it toward them. "Take a look at these numbers and tell me what three numbers come next."

As soon as he saw the numbers, he got it. Mathematical progressions. He'd studied them on Asgard and on Jotunheim. They were easy; all you had to do was figure out the pattern. He examined the numbers, started writing on his slate, and then he had it. The pattern was you added ten to get one number, added five to get the next, and then ten to get the next. So the pattern was ten, five, ten, five, and ten, five.

"All right, you all should have managed to solve this one, so turn your slates around and let me see your answers."

They all did as they were instructed and Loki saw Gairagh checking each and every slate. "Very good, all of you! All correct!" He erased his slate and wrote some more. "Try this one. It's a little different. See if you can find the pattern you need to get the next three numbers."

Loki spent a frustrating ten minutes then, trying adding and subtracting, until the answer dawned on him and he figured it out. All of the numbers had a ratio involved. He tried with two, three, four, and hit on the answer at five. All the numbers had a common ratio of five. He calculated the next three numbers and wrote them down. When Gairagh called on them to show their slates, he could tell that he was only a handful of people who had gotten the correct answer. Once Gairagh had explained the concept more fully and showed the ones who had not managed to figure out the answer where they had gone wrong, Gairagh gave them an assignment to do on their own: sketch a design based on an arithmetic or geometric series. They were absorbed in that until the lesson was over when they were able to copy their designs onto paper so they could be kept. After mathematics was history, where Gairagh unfurled a scroll covered with words and illustrations and narrated the period of history it portrayed. Seeing history told from the clan point of view was interesting and Loki found himself absorbed in the material. After history was literature, where Gairagh repeated a passage from a poem and they all had to get it by rote and then tell him what it was about. Gairagh repeated the same process for music: he sang a line of a song, and the students sang it back at him.

At last, lessons were over and Deerda was there with her cart with their lunch. They bid Gairagh goodbye and returned to the table, where Deerda dished up soup, bread, and fruit. Loki took a cautious taste of the contents of the bowl Deerda handed him and smiled when its mild taste hit him. He ate the entire bowl rich with shreds of meat and chopped vegetables, two slices of bread, and two pieces of fruit that looked like overgrown strawberries but tasted like melon. They cleaned up from lunch and then they led Loki through a doorway and into the kymnas.

It was incredible. There was no other word to describe it. There were nets of ropes and a notched wall for climbing, a running course painted on the floor around the circumference of the open space, and ball courts painted in the center. Built into the walls was a lot of apparatus they could use to stretch, climb, lift weight, and get in exercise. There was a basket holding lengths of rope, balls, rackets, and other equipment used for playing games.

In a moment it was pandemonium. A footrace started with some of the girls and boys, two boys began climbing the climbing wall, another two started a tug-of-war, and everyone else got involved in a ball game. In the chaos Loki headed toward the door and back into the other room...and smacked right into Deerda.

"Hello, Loki. Is something wrong?"

"It's loud in there." He wasn't lying. Everyone was shouting at the tops of their lungs and the noise was unceasing.

Deerda listened for a moment and winced. "I see. They're in full cry, aren't they? Well, don't worry, you can keep me company for a little while while I work, all right?"

Loki nodded. Perhaps while she was distracted with her work he could get away.

It was not to be. She recruited him as her helper and he was left dusting surfaces and shelves while she restocked linens and soap and other materials. Then she was back with a carpet brush and Loki was left plumping cushions and straightening items on the shelves. Things looked nice when they were done, and Loki was allowed to choose a book and plop himself onto a cushion to read. He was deep in a story about Noekta, the Mother of the Stars when the rest of his…(what were they? Classmates? Age mates? Age mates sounded right) age mates rushed in.

A boy, Farent, ran up to Deerda. "Deerda! We can't find Loki!"

Loki cleared his throat and shifted on his cushion. "Hello, Farent."

Farent whipped around and stared at Loki. "Oh."

Loki turned a page and glanced at Farent. He'd never seen anyone so embarrassed. It was actually kind of amusing.

"You should have told us where you were going," Farent said after a moment.

This was interesting. "Why? Were you told to keep tabs on me?"

The look in Farent's eyes said it all, but he quickly shook his head. "No! We were just worried, that's all."

Loki looked him up and down. "Mm-hmm." He pretended to return to his book.

"Well, looks like Loki's found something to keep himself occupied, so the rest of you do the same," Deerda said, shooing the crowd away from her. "Go on, now."

They dispersed and scattered about the room. Some pulled out books, others brought out drawing materials, others set out games or puzzles, and others fetched the materials for handicrafts. Loki kept his attention on his book while quietly keeping watch out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps once they were all occupied he would have a chance to slip away.

A few hours later, Loki jerked out of a light sleep and fought the urge to groan. Deerda had come to tell them it was time to rest and had seen them all bedded down on the cushions they'd used for class. They were intriguing things that folded out into thin mattresses they could use to sleep, and he'd settled down when told to. He'd told himself not to fall asleep and what had he done? As soon as he'd laid down, he'd been out like a light when he'd been intending to only pretend to sleep until everyone else fell asleep so he could leave. This just wasn't fair.

Deerda came into the room and clapped her hands. "Time to get up, everyone!" she said brightly. "Time for work!"

There were a few groans at that, but everyone got up, gathered their cushions and blankets to tuck them away into their cupboard, and they went with Deerda, who led them through tunnels down into the lower levels.

"What are we doing today, Deerda?" Kira asked as they walked. Loki was busy trying to watch for landmarks and almost didn't hear the question. If he could find his way around this labyrinth, then he could get out…

"You'll be helping in the laundry today, dear. Can I count on all of you to show Loki what to do?"

A chorus of yes made Loki bring his attention back to the group. Farent, he saw, had been watching him closely. Perhaps Farent deserved a little watching in turn.

Loki spent the next few hours in the laundry, helping to stir barrels of hot water and clothes, folding, and mending garments. He'd spent time with Frigga when he'd been young and when boredom had threatened, she'd shown him how to use a thread and needle and how to do some stitches. He used those skills in mending now and he could tell that he'd impressed quite a few of the girls and some of the adult women who were supervising them. The stitches he made were small and even and the seams straight.

He was finishing a split seam when Deerda returned and said it was time for them to go to dinner. Loki finished the last stitch, tied off his thread, and dropped the garment into the appropriate basket. He allowed himself to be ushered out the door with the others and herded along. He was hungry, and perhaps once in the dining hall he'd be able to figure out where he was in relation to the stable and the way out. On thinking about it while he'd been working, he'd concluded it was his best chance.

There were even more people in the dining hall than there had been when he'd last seen it and he found the crowd a little daunting. There were elders, adults, children...there were too many people to count. One by one his age mates found their families but he forgot all about them when hands went around him and lifted him off his feet and he found himself staring at Arust. "Oh, it's you."

"And good to see you, too!" Arust said brightly, setting Loki on his feet and clapping a hand on his back. "Hungry? Had a good day?"

"Yes."

"To which one?"

Loki gave him a long look. "Why don't you pick one and we agree to talk about it later?"

Arust chuckled and nudged Loki's shoulder to turn him. "Come on. You're at the high table."

"Oh, goody." Now everybody in the room could stare at him at their leisure.

"That was how Loki found himself plonked down between Arust and Amaira and if he hadn't been so hungry he would have protested at the company. As it was, he was so hungry he felt a little faint and he didn't want to cause any more delay in getting food. There was bread, roasted vegetables, and roast meat, which, thankfully, was not seasoned too strongly. He was happy to accept a second helping of meat, and then dishes of fruit were brought for dessert. Loki peeled a fruit (it was nothing he recognized) and found himself wondering just where the food had come from. How had people managed to farm in a cave? "Where did all this food come from?"

"We have farms," Amaira said, refilling his water mug for him.

"In a cave?"

"No, outside in a valley near here. You'll see it when it's time for harvest. Everybody helps during harvest."

"Aside from harvest, does anyone ever go outside just to be outside? I miss the sunlight."

"That can be arranged."

He let the topic drop. He had a strong feeling that she knew what he was thinking: once he made it outside, he would be gone.

"You should finish your tea, Loki," Amaira said after a few minutes. "It's good for you."

He'd recognized the taste of hata tea right away when he'd sipped it, but it had been thick and bitter instead of what he was used to. "It tastes awful."

"Listen to your mother," Arust chided him.

Loki went cold and when he turned his head to stare at Arust, he felt his neck creak. "What?"

"Listen to your mother."

Loki turned his head again to stare at Amaira, who was sitting there with a smug little smile that made his blood boil. Suddenly what he'd failed to grasp the night before became clear. She and Arust were putting themselves forward has his parents. Oh, no. No, no, no. "She's not my mother."

"I am now," Amaira said, smoothing his hair. "Drink your tea, Loki."

"No, you're not," Loki persisted. This was something that he had to stop, now. "I have a mother."

Amaira gave him a sly look. "And which mother would that be, dear? The one who hasn't bothered to look for you, or the one who gave you away as if you were an old pair of boots?"

Every bit of crockery on the table shattered and liquids and foot splattered everywhere. Men cursed and women screamed (although a few of them screamed curses) and everyone turned to stare at him.

"Never say that again," Loki snarled at Amaira in the silence that followed.

Amaira merely raised an eyebrow. "Dear, I think it would be a good idea if Loki retired now."

Arust plucked Loki up and carried him out of the great hall. Loki stayed in his grip, quietly fuming and not throwing a justifiable fit, but oh, the temptation was unbearable.