(SIGYN)

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end while I rode in front, keeping my eyes fixated on the golden city. Even though I was turned away, I felt his gaze as I did the rumble of the ground when he laughed under his breath, shaking everything.

I hated the way he looked at me. Sneered at me. Stared at me. That...creature wasn't a man at all, nor was he anything like what I could imagine if Loki had attempted to tell me anything about him beforehand. The fact Pluto had made an enemy of Thor was no comfort—it meant he was beyond dangerous.

Yet doubt over that thought kept me moving forward. Perhaps my perception of evil was flawed, shadowed by a faithful Asgardian heart. After all, I'd grown up understanding who to trust and believe and rely on in my home. Loki was someone I admired, but Thor gave me no reason to doubt the moral rightness of his adventures until he refused to act at all.

Still, Loki always fought against the same enemies, even if he did so for different reasons. Why band with this one, now? What did Pluto have that Loki needed?

Asgard's skies were a brighter blue than I recalled, though that might've been because Vanaheim's was so dark in comparison. Even at the late hour here, the sunset made me squint. The air was thin as well. It smelled like home, with a fresh note that was otherwise impossible to describe, even when Pluto's stench wafted over me from a breeze in the opposite direction.

I longed to nuzzle into Loki's chest again and take in his signature aroma, but he might as well have been worlds away. He walked beside the two sorcerers at the back and led the second horse on foot. They muttered about their strategies now that they had so few reinforcements. Pluto took long strides and had no sweat upon his brow, which told me he wasn't fatigued at all by the travel. I wished for it only to see if the dew covering his frog-like skin would wane.

At least their slow pace meant I didn't have to rush while riding. I was more comfortable than when we came to The Don City initially, but it still wasn't a hobby I would volunteer to do by any means.

"We're an hour out," Loki called to me, handing the reins of the horse to one of the other men and jogging to meet me up front. His armor, no matter how much a product of his own mind, weighed him down and made him breathe heavily. "Do you know where you're going when you get there?"

I stretched my back, tiring of the golden cage that nearly suffocated me since yesterday and seemed to grow tighter by the minute. "I believe I know my way to the judgment hall well enough."

"Not that—are you familiar with the city on this end? How to get to the palace at all through these streets?"

"Do you know something I don't? The western edge of the city is nearly empty. It's filled with storehouses only."

"You forget that I changed things." He halted my horse and pleaded with his green eyes, which had more yellow than they did normally. An emotion lingered that he wouldn't say. "I placed families on this side of the city while their homes were rebuilt. I don't know if they've been completed yet."

I nodded. "You're concerned I'll be seen before we're ready, is that it?"

"Somewhat. I doubt you'll be recognized, but you may be questioned. Don't stop for anyone. Leave your horse by the servantry entrance and someone will undoubtedly take him to the stables on their own." He took my hand and squeezed once, blinking quickly. "This is our chance to prove to them that we aren't so easily defeated. Go to the judgment hall and engage with them. Distract them. Buy us time. If anyone can do that, it's you."

"You need me for my stubbornness against authority," I said with a cocked brow.

"I wouldn't have you any other way, Ginny. Give us a kiss." He stood on tiptoe to meet my lips when I bent down to him, quickly pecking me as if it were a well wish for an honest day's work. "Now go. We won't be far behind you, just long enough so Heimdall's eyes are on you and not us."

"Alright." I said to the horse, "Please don't throw me," then lightly tapped its sides with my heels. He jolted forward, but I clung to his mane and righted myself, letting my eyes focus on my destination so the jarring movements wouldn't nauseate or upset me.

Soon my secret would be secret no more. The moment we stepped foot on the Asgardian side of the portal, the being within my belly rolled and tumbled. They knew where we were. They could feel it. Perhaps if Loki did not succeed, I could use the child as a bargaining chip. Spare his life and mine for the sake of our family. Surely Thor and Odin wouldn't be so heartless in such matters.

Right?

I shook my head as the horse picked up speed, stretching his legs on the vast, flat field. It was truly ideal for battle though it left few places for soldiers to hide. Whether it would ever be used in the way Loki described, I didn't know, but I imagined it could be used as refuge if Ragnarok legend turned out to be true. All the remaining good people of Yggdrasil would gather in one place to build anew. It made for a nice enough story, at least.

Asgard's city was as I suspected when I reached the outskirts on this side—nearly empty. Whatever families Loki placed here, they were gone. By the looks of it, for quite some time, as no rubbish or animals filled the streets in ways that were inevitable in residential sectors. Still, I slowed the horse to a trot and took in my surroundings, quieting the anxious thumping of my heart as I neared the palace servantry entrance.

At this hour, servants would be bustling to and from the great hall, preparing for whatever banquet feast was called for today. They'd be too focused on their tasks to notice a stranger in the halls. I didn't bother wagering a guess as to how many men would be present in the judgment hall, but I hoped for Loki's sake that Odin felt Asgard was safe enough of late to cull the numbers of soldiers in service.

And what about the men that I knew—what about Theo? Were the Crimson Hawks still stationed here? I gulped down the sickening jump at the back of my throat and prayed that, regardless of how things turned out, I wouldn't be forced to witness the deaths of people I once cared for, least of all him. He was a good man and didn't deserve this fate.

I dismounted and left the horse as planned, patting his head and thanking him before taking the first few steps inside. My armor set me apart more than ever before, though Loki was right—no one would expect me to wear such an ensemble, and goodness knew what he'd done to my face and hair to make me more intimidating. I had to trust that he wouldn't send me in to be devoured without any defense.

The basement floors, abandoned. Too quiet. Unsettling. But a drone of activity at the end of the hall calmed me again. I snuck up the back stairs to the second floor, wanting to avoid the main passageway as much as possible, since I knew the divots in the walls where I could push my back flat against the stone and remain unnoticed until the coast was clear.

This level was equally empty. The doors I passed frequently on my last days in Asgard made me feel like I'd lived this moment before. I absentmindedly trailed my fingertips against the wall, listening for anything familiar. Until I came across a door that once bore my own name.

I paused before it, almost glad to see that it hadn't been given any obvious marks of a new owner, though the plate for me had been pried off and left a bare rectangle behind.

I wonder...

With a flick of my wrist, I unlocked the chamber and let the door creep open. No light or sound escaped from inside.

"Tee?" I called, praying I'd hear his sweet trill in response, yet there was nothing. My pet was long gone. But the room wasn't stripped like the door—it almost looked untouched from the morning I was called to Odin's presence for the last time.

I snapped to light the few candles on the walls, wasting time because I was too nervous to do as Loki asked and make false conversation with the foes upstairs. I took my time. The looking glass above the vanity table proved what I suspected: Loki painted my eyes black and did the same to my hair. I was his perfect match like this. Nearly a twin.

A tender memory of his hands wiping away all evidence of false decoration on my face made me turn away. For all that he said he preferred me to look natural, this made me doubt how he'd want me to present myself if we were to stay here.

The bed called to me simply because its width and soft blankets were so different from the stiff cots I'd gotten used to, and the taste of luxury on the night of our binding was so close, I knew how good it would feel. My aching feet and back longed for it. As I sat on the edge, I chuckled to myself—if I were to take a short nap, would anyone notice?

But another choice appealed to me. After a deep breath, I reached under the mattress. The cold, bumpy surface of Father's blade fit in my hand like an old friend.

Oh, thank you for being here. I need you, Father.

I pulled it out and found a place to hang it off the false armor before deciding it was time to reignite my bravery. With candles snuffed out and the door locked, I resumed my path upstairs. Whether Loki could be depended on or not, I at least felt confident that I could defend myself with my familiar weapon.

The last set of steps was the hardest to climb, simply because the ghost of the girl I once was ascended beside me. She was naïve, hopeful, lustful, and trusted that the man at the top of the stairs wouldn't harm her. That girl didn't exist anymore—her innocence perished the moment she pledged her life to a man who gave her no indication that he would do the same.

But then, it didn't matter. Love drove her action, just as love brought me back. It would always win.

Fortunately, there weren't scores of soldiers lining the sides of the judgment hall when I passed Frigga's chambers and crested the top. Straight ahead, only six or seven guards in their gold crescent helmets stood before the occupied throne of the king.

Odin didn't watch my approach. He was distracted. Thor was equally fixated beside him, and everyone present bickered about something in hushed tones.

Well, I suppose some things never really change.

It was time to announce myself. I cleared my throat and bowed with exaggerated slowness. "Allfather, I come to pay my allegiance."

The soldiers startled and turned to me in unison. No words, only jaw-open stares.

Odin tipped his head to the side and spoke sweetly, as if I were no one of consequence and therefore, not a threat. "My child, I'm afraid you are not—"

"Not what? Not familiar? Not welcome? Not worthy? I suppose all are true." I held my hands behind my back and tapped my right foot. "Though I could say the same for you, couldn't I?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Take caution in how you speak to me."

"Caution is a luxury afforded those who have something to lose."

Thor shifted beside him, furrowing his brow. "Father, is she—"

"Silence," Odin barked. "Young lady, announce yourself."

"Oh, dear," I said, mimicking Loki's sarcastic inflection, "Don't you recognize me?"

The soldiers traded confused glances, shaking their heads and turning back to the Allfather.

Odin stood, wobbling as he rose, yet he didn't take Thor's arm when it was offered. His eye, even from a distance, attempted to peel away the illusions covering me.

Loki's power was too strong. So was mine.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," I said, bringing my hands to the front and producing the image of a wooden bowl within my hands. "Perhaps this is more familiar to you?"

Odin hissed, tightening his posture. "Daughter of Edda. Sigyn."

"I don't understand," Thor said, stepping forward and trying to appear intimidating by his height alone. "Where did you come from?"

I smiled, nearly gleeful with the opportunity to make him squirm. "I came from where you left me to die, of course. Or, shall I say, left us to die."

Odin squeezed his empty left fist until it turned red, and Thor glanced between us, bumbling in his silence.

I gave an exaggerated curtsey, quickly running out of ideas. "So, as I said, I'm here to pay my allegiance to the King of Asgard."

Thor took another step forward. "Where is Loki?"

"I am here," Loki yelled from the back of the hall.

I kept my position steady as the soldiers flanked me on either side, marching toward him. To them, I was no threat. The fools.

Loki's plodding boots were no different now than the night we met in Frigga's chambers and he approached to threaten me. Yet besides the metal clanks of the guards, his steps were all I could perceive.

Are you alone?

Odin didn't step down from his throne, though the tight clench of his jaw beneath the beard was obvious enough. He was too prideful in his certainty that their quarrels would be over.

Thor looked at me again and gulped before raising his face to catch Loki behind me. His cheeks and ears blossomed with blush—like he'd been caught in a lie. He wasn't afraid or angry like Odin. This was the same face I saw upon Loki when he mourned for Frigga in supposed solitude.

No—his quivering frown and surrendered posture divulged a heart filled with regret.

Yet Loki either couldn't see what I saw, or he didn't care. "Why, brother...didn't you miss me?"

His words were a cue. Pluto bellowed with a battle cry, shaking the pillars of the noble floor, and his army of dead flooded in.