He only knew he had awoken because the door opened and he heard it. All at once he felt around him the floor and the air and almost tasted the smell that floated through, the tallow candles and burning torches but perhaps he was imagining it because there had been no flames.

Then there was one. And looked at him. He stood up. "What do you want with me," he said, and it answered him, "our leader wants to see you."

And he had half a mind to refuse but there was no purpose in doing so as it would not change anything and so he followed it under the corridor and tried to think.

Evidently they were interested in him. Whatever way this interest manifested itself, he could find a way to help them. Helping brought people into his trust, it was a natural reaction. You thought, oh yes that man he has helped me so many times, if not for him I would be dead, and then did not suspect his real aims.

And so they walked, in silence, until Loki decided to ask, "what is this place?"

The guard just stared at him for a moment as though he did not understand what Loki was doing, talking like this, as though he were not afraid.

It did not answer.

They came into a bigger room, and there he was, the leader they had spoken of—he was tall, his face turned to look out some high window as dust motes danced in the air. And when he turned his face had the most ghastly smile that sent a shiver through him for some reason he did not understand because he had faced many a fierce foe in his life and yet this man was terrifying and he knew not why.

Then the guard left, and Loki resented him for it.

"So. You are the mage."

"I am," Loki said.

"Come here," the leader said, and walked toward the far end of the room. Loki followed, because he had always been curious, wanting to know had been his downfall many times before.

Then they passed through the dark hall and came to the door of a smaller room. And then the man looked at him once again as he drew up beside him. He looked at Loki as one might look as a tool to do one's purpose, a tool that had been sold to one by a rather unscrupulous fellow, one with promise which might yet turn out to be nothing more than trash. Then he reached out and drew one big finger across the collar around his neck, almost touching his throat, and Loki stood still and did not move.

"I'm going to take this off you," he said, conversationally, his fingers now just touching the exposed skin of his neck, with a light touch like a brush of finger against silk. "I warn you that if you defy me, I will kill you."

Then Loki spoke. "What makes you think you can kill me?"

The man threw back his head and laughed, long, his hand slipping from the metal ring and down to his side. "I have killed worlds. I have killed races you have never heard of, more powerful than ever you could be. Have no doubt, little sorcerer, that I could kill you."

Loki blinked. In the space around them, everything was very silent. Not really as silent as the void—even the snow falling made a sound, and minute noises the body makes.

Still it seemed the whole world had gone away while they conversed. As though, if he left the room, he would find it had been nothing more than a dream, and he was alone once more.

"All right," Loki said. Agreement always made the other party more relaxed, and sometimes they forgot to ask what exactly had been agreed upon.

Then he reached up, and took hold of the metal ring, and twisted. And it fell away at once, easily, into his hand, and Loki stood up easier, as he felt life flowing into his body, and a tightness he had not noticed being released, and a peace and calm descend upon him, and power sparked at his fingertips like lightning. But he couldn't think of Thor, not now. He had left Thor and all that he had been behind.

Then the man looked at him as though waiting for him to spend his life on a futile escape or attack, and when Loki didn't try anything, he turned and opened the door, and they entered.

.

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