Chapter 3: Trouble is Brewing
Magni's sleep, that night, had been fitful for a number of reasons.
As soon as he'd scooted between the starched, cool sheets, he'd laced his hands behind his head and just lay staring at the ceiling, thinking of today's encounter with that odd and rather dominant man and his...er...mute...lady.
Mutual acquaintance. What the heck was he talking about? What possessed a perfect stranger to mention a mutual acquaintance? What mutual acquaintance?
Absentmindedly watching the shifting shadows on the ceiling, he racked his brain about the man.
Acquaintance... Connected in what way? By family? Or friends? Probably the former since the bloke pounced upon his surname...Lokason... What if it was relative to Loki?
"Oh for goodness sake; scratch that last one," Magni thought irritably, and, kicking off the covers, growled with frustration.
On further consideration, though: what was this thing about Bambi? And egos?
Peter, propped up on his elbow, resting his cheek on his hand, looked up from the detective novel he was reading.
"What?"
"Nothing," Magni muttered, a little startled for having apparently spoken aloud, and turned on his other side, away from his friend's questioning gaze.
He frowned. And what was wrong with reciting Shakespeare?
After Peter had switched off the light, Magni continued to stare into the darkness.
How would this New Yorker know anyone of Magni's family? He didn't know anyone else going by that surname. He didn't even know if his biological father was still alive! At his twelfth birthday, he'd been told by his foster parents how his father, by circumstances, had left him into their loving care. They'd treated and loved him like their own. And with their daughter Ase happening to be born around the same time, the two were raised as twins.
His real mother was presumed to have died in childbirth but they, and the other folk from the village, had decided to put up a small memorial. This gesture was probably more for his benefit. They had told him how distraught his father had been, that fateful night when he appeared on their doorstep.
Bottom line was that he was given the name Lokason, after the trickster deity Loki because he, Magni, happened to be born in Jotunheim, Home of the Giants.
All he was left by his father were a golden chained brooch and a small blanket of the finest cloth. There was also a very fine looking knife, its hilt of the smoothest hardwood and rather elaborately carved and the sharp blade of a metal he couldn't quite place. Not exactly befitting a baby, but still...all his.
Could this Stark person have known his biological parents?
He flopped on his back hoping to get some sleep but all he managed was tossing and turning for he found it was suffocatingly hot inside the room.
The heating had been turned off hours ago, but the temperature still was unbearable. He'd contemplated opening the window, but the sounds of the city that never sleeps would deprive the boys from any notion of undisturbed sleep. Oh, such contrast with his home town!
Finally, barely one hour before Peter shook him awake, his eyes fell closed and he was sound asleep.
He growled at Peter's prods and shakes, snuggling deeper between the sheets.
Peter, his voice booming and much too chipper for Magni's liking, urged him to get up pronto lest they be too late for breakfast with the rest of their classmates.
He grudgingly swung his legs over the side of the bed and pattered to the bathroom for his morning ritual. Peter had already left the room by the time he pulled on his clothes.
It was a bleary eyed Lokason who showed up at the breakfast table. And a tired Magni was an irritable Magni.
The fact they were going to spend the day visiting one museum after the other and end up at a Broadway musical, didn't help much to improve his mood.
After lunch, the class found themselves strolling through an exhibition about the Age of Vikings with its displays of ancient artifacts and weapons, medieval scripts and a short film about the Norse myths and legends which had Magni rolling his eyes throughout as he caught his friends looking askance at him whenever Odin, Thor and any of the Nine Realms were mentioned.
Peter was surprised to find his friend's interest piqued, without being distracted by his friends, at one particular item. It was funny how Lokason had his nose positively glued on the glass behind which some jewels were on display but there was this one special object...
"It's like mine... How can this be?" He muttered to himself.
"It's a clasp. It's meant to hold a cape together."
Magni spun around at this strange voice.
"Who are you?" He snapped at the other.
"It doesn't matter who I am. I was merely saying..."
"I didn't ask you anything about this object."
"Besides, it's rude to sneak upon somebody," he continued somewhat peeved that he'd been so deep into his own thoughts to have missed somebody had entered his personal space and he didn't like it one bit.
"I did not sneak up on you," the stranger placidly retorted.
"Sir, I have nothing to say to you, so I bid you a very good day," Magni said.
It was an effort to keep it civil and now he just wanted to get away as quick as possible.
What was it, these days, with perfect strangers talking to him? This was going to be the last time he visited New York. This city was leaving him quite uncomfortable.
With one more look at the clasp, he strode away. Where had his choir mates gone?
He turned a corner and saw the entrance to a dark room and thought it an excellent place to stay out of the stranger's sight.
The otherwise dark walls held softly lit displays of manuscripts, books and colourful drawings.
Magni, his attention once again drawn, stepped closer to read the Old Norse writings, not caring for the English translations beside the ancient originals.
He huffed. Great! Just jolly great! It was an excerpt of the Prose Edda, relating about Ragnarok and the evil deity Loki's role in it. Magni's eyes went to the picture beside the manuscript. It was an old one depicting the Trickster god like some...court jester!
The youngster pivoted and promptly bumped into the broad chest of...the stranger.
He was ready to explode.
"WHAT?" He hissed.
"What do you want from me?" Magni continued when the man didn't respond.
After looking Magni up and down as if he were someone despicable, the man replied.
"Oh, I want nothing from you."
"Then why are you following me?"
"I've been told to get you..."
Magni let out a derisive snort. "It's that Stark bloke, isn't it?"
"Stark Bloke?" The man shook his head in confusion. "I don't know that name. However, I've been ordered to bring you back to..."
Quick as lightning, he thrust out his hand and gripped the boy's arm in a vice. Magni's heart threatened to burst from his chest and, eyes widening in panic, he struggled to free himself.
Suddenly, there was a surge of bodies in the dark room accompanied by a cacophony of thankfully familiar voices and Magni felt the pressure on his arm instantly drop away.
"Hey, Magni! THERE you are! We've been looking for you everywhere!" One of his classmates, Robert Thornton, called out.
"Not unlike the elusive Scarlet Pimpernel, if you ask me," Peter muttered.
Magni spun around, his eyes scanning for the stranger, but he was gone.
He let out a sigh of relief but his heart still hadn't returned to its normal pace.
Well, it seems like I shouldn't waste my time writing any more Thor fics even if I like that. However, I'll continue the weekly update on this story for those few readers still having a shred of interest to read more.