Part Thirteen: In Which Sigourney is Brave

Sigourney shrugged into her backpack, pulling it on over her sage-green coat. Glancing through the window she could see that hoards of kids in costumes where already starting to prowl the streets in search of candy. Hallowe'en would not have been the night Sigourney would have picked to attempt to rescue the man who loved her. But she had no choice in the matter.

It was still early, the sun only just descending towards the horizon. The minutes had passed like hours all day as Sigourney prepared. And now they had all but ground to a halt. The weight of her backpack seemed to be the only thing keeping her from exploding outside of her own body, going everywhere all at once. It was filled with the things she would need. Clothes, her notebook, a bit of food and a few of her books. Essential items she couldn't leave behind. One way or another, Sigourney knew that she probably wouldn't be coming back to her apartment.

The letter for Lavender had been entrusted to Mrs Hult that morning. Sigourney knew that it was in good hands. It was only a shame that there wasn't time to say goodbye properly. Sigourney stared at her phone where it sat face down on the kitchen table, bouncing her leg in an attempt to shake the nervous energy of anticipation out of herself. She had considered texting Lavender, was still considering it, but she couldn't make herself do it. How could she express all those unsaid things in only a few sentences? How could she say all the things she should have said in one phone call? Perhaps she would just figure it out as she went.

Sigourney reached for her phone, but froze at the sound of pawing at the window behind her. She whipped around in her chair and her backpack caught on the frame, nearly sending her to the floor. When she managed to right herself she could see that it was only Fiske. She sighed as she straightened, disappointment flooding in to fill the gap where her breath had been. She knew, as she went to open the window, that there was no reason for her to have thought that it would be Loki.

"I don't have any dinner for you." She told the cat as it slinked around her ankles.

Fiske didn't seem too disturbed by this fact. He only wandered past her into the apartment. Sigourney followed him and managed to scoop him up into her arms. She scratched him behind his ears and murmured a few nonsense words of affection as he basked in her undivided attention. Well, at least now she wouldn't have to wait alone. Sitting herself back down at the table, Fiske on her lap, Sigourney watched as the street outside her window grew steadily darker and darker.

It was very quiet in the apartment by the time the streetlights came on. Sigourney felt as though she were preforming some kind of secret rite or sacred ceremony as she got to her feet. Fiske jumped from her lap and escorted her to the door of the apartment. Sigourney flipped off the lights with all the solemnity of a high priestess. Then she walked out the front door. For perhaps the first time in her life she didn't have to spend five or so minutes rooting through her bag in order to find her keys. She simply pulled them out of her pocket. And as she shut the front door, she tortured herself with one last glance at all her things standing alone in the dark. Sigourney locked the door, the sweet pang of sorrow heavy under her lungs, and turned down the hall. Fiske walked beside her as she descended the stairs and did not break from her side until she stepped out into the night.

The air was sharp and smelt heavily of plant decay and the coming snow. It's chilled fingers clung to Sigourney as she jogged across the street to the park. Her heart told her that it was where Loki and his friends would be. It was almost as though she was following the cord that extended out beyond her body, linking her to Loki. She could feel its pull in the center of her chest. She only hoped that trusting it was the right thing to do.

When she found the place where she had seen Sif and the others the other day she stopped. But there was no one there and no sign that there ever had been. She paced through the tightly knit trees, her boots kicking up the dry leaves that littered the ground in thick drifts. Above, the faint glimmer of stars washed out by city lights could only just be seen. Sigourney knew the park well enough, but she knew that it would take ages to search every corner of it. And she was beginning to run out of time.

Sigourney searched and searched as darkness settled in around her. What had Loki meant when he said that they would be taking him that night? Had he meant that they would be gone the moment the sun set? Or did it simply mean that he would be taken sometime before the sun rose? Sigourney ran among the inky shapes of trees, her boots pounding the dry grass like a mantra. She would search all night until she either found him or the sun came up. It was the only thing she could do.

As she darted through a clearing something caught the toe of Sigourney's boot. She fell, face-forward, to the ground. Cold, sharp pain shot through her hands and knees where they collided with the dirt. Pushing herself up, she glanced back to see what had tripped her. There, etched deep into the dirt, was a kind of pattern. It spread out around her all across the clearing in knots and lines that formed circle.

This was it.

Sigourney stood up and brushed the dirt from her knees as she looked around at the intricate pattern. This was where it would happen. She just knew it. Conviction settled into the pit of her chest as she hurried into the trees that ringed the clearing. Now that she had found the place, all she had to do was wait. Sigourney settled herself down among the underbrush and wrapped her arms around herself. She would sit and watch and wait. And then she would rescue Loki. Nothing would stop her.

She didn't know how long she waited. Night stole in properly over the park and seeped down still and quiet between the trees. Above, the moon shone just enough to illuminate the patterned circle in the clearing. The silvery-blue light turned the world unearthly. And an electrical sort of energy hung in the air. But still, Sigourney had to wait.

Eventually, the soft jingling of metal sounded somewhere to Sigourney's left. She took in a sharp breath as she strained to see the figures who entered into the clearing. First came the quiet man with long dark hair. He now wore black and purple armour that clanked and clinked as he walked. Next came the man whose red hair and beard were like the mane of a lion. He too was now wearing armour of brownish-orange and bronze. Then came the blond man in shinning armour of yellow and gold. And with him was Loki all bound in silver chains with a muzzle strapped to his face. Sigourney didn't wait to see where Sif was.

She shot out from the underbrush and into the clearing, her sole intent to grab a hold of Loki so that they could both run for their lives into the night. When he saw her his green eyes went wide and he stopped short. Before the other three men could register what was happening, Sigourney had nearly covered the distance to Loki. A strong pair of hands grabbed her by the backpack and forced Sigourney to the ground before she could reach him. She struggled against Sif's hold, kicking and wriggling to get free. At the same time the men in armour shouted to one another while feet shuffled against the dirt and leaves. Something was happening with Loki, but Sigourney, her face pressed into the ground, couldn't see what. Animal sounds filled the air in the clearing and Sigourney twisted out from under Sif's hold long enough to see Loki's body glimmering with pale green light.

"Do not lose him!" Sif ordered, "The enchantment will not let him get free of those chains, whatever shape he takes. But do not let him get away from you!"

Loki's voice filled the clearing in a chesty cry as he fought to change into a snake. Whatever enchantment the chains had, they were hurting him. Sigourney tore free from Sif's grasp, shrugging out of her backpack, and launched herself across the rest of the clearing. She flung her arms around the blinding green light that encased Loki's body and held tight to him as he tried to change his shape again.

This time he nearly became a wolf. Hands tried to pull Sigourney off of him, but she locked her grip around his neck firmly and would not be shaken. He twisted and writhed under her grasp in a mass of teeth and fur. But Sigourney knew that he wouldn't hurt her. Loki cried out once more and his body dissolved into light again as he tried to shift into a magpie. Sigourney held on to feathers and skin and wings as he changed within her arms. The strong hands and arms trying to separate her from Loki wouldn't yield. But still she clung to him.

"Get her off!" Someone shouted, "It's nearly time!"

Overlapping voices mixed with Loki's next cry of pain as he shifted again. Sigourney had to shut her eyes against the light that consumed his body. He changed and Sigourney felt his proper shape come into form under her. When she opened her eyes again, her arms were fast around his neck. Loki collapsed into her, weary and shaking, and they fell together to the ground. Sigourney shrugged out of her coat, wrapping it around Loki's shoulders tightly as though it would protect him from further harm.

And then the world burst into a riot of light and infinite colour. Sigourney thought she would be sick as her body was loosed from the hold of the earth and her mind railed against the incomprehensible motion. She held fast to Loki. Surrounding her was the all consuming rainbow she had been swallowed by again and again in her dreams. Only this time it was real. She clung to Loki and burred her face in the spot between his neck and his shoulder. It was over in an instant. Everything stopped and there was ground, hard and cold, under her again. Sigourney pulled away from Loki tentatively, her eyes dancing with the after-image of colour.

The gilded chamber from her dream surrounded them. And standing on the dias, looking down at them, was a man in armour with a sword.

Sif straightened up and glanced to where Sigourney still clung to Loki, "If I had known what would pass this night, I would have plucked out his eyes long ago and stopped him from ever beholding her. Think what trouble could have been spared."

"What is this?" The man with the sword said, bewildered by what he saw before him, "She ain't meant to be here."

"We know, Scurge!" Sif snapt.

The conversation dissolved into a chorus of angry voices as it went on around Sigourney. But she couldn't understand what was being said. Pain, hot and sharp and hard, had ignited behind her right eye. Sigourney pressed the heel of her hand against it in an attempt to dull the agony that took hold of her. All she could see were the sweeping lines and curves of the gilded chamber as they blurred and bent together. Somewhere in the very back of her mind she was vaguely aware that her dream must have been a memory. But the thought slipped away as pain wedged itself into her mind. She couldn't think. Couldn't remember.

Where was she? What had just happened? She tried to take in her surroundings, but she couldn't make any sense of the blinding gold room or the fairytale figures that surrounded her. She had been looking for something. For someone. The man on the floor beside her, muzzled and bound in chains, leaned in close so that she had no choice but to look at him. His green eyes were full of an expression she couldn't place. She felt that she knew him. She knew his face. But who was he? She brushed her fingers along his brow and against the muzzle strapped over his mouth. He was so familiar. And the way he looked at her... She wanted to tell him that she was alright just so he would stop. But she couldn't make her mouth work for some reason. He looked so distraught, thrashing against his bonds and jerking his head this way and that, his eyes wide and watery.

The world tilted just enough for the cold metal floor of the gilded chamber to catch her. She didn't fight it. Nor did she fight the hands that were suddenly grasping her arms. The pain in her head blossomed into searing fire as the dark edges of her vision closed in around her. For a moment there was only the blinding white crack of pain. And then there was nothing.