Belle and the Nixie
By the time my daughter was three she was reading simple sentences and writing her
name. She could speak Norse and English fluently and I was starting her on Latin, French,
and Italian. I had discovered that children soak up languages like sponges when they're that
age. I was multi-lingual myself, speaking at least twelve mortal languages, including all the
Scandinavian tongues, the Romance languages, even a smattering of Hebrew and Arabic.
I planned on taking a trip down to Midgard with her when she was older and I wanted her
to be able to speak to whomever she encountered without any problems. Then too, it's the
hallmark of an educated person to be able to speak more than one language.
Belle, being the smart little imp she was, picked up languages without blinking an
eye. In the mornings we'd have lessons, I used both books from the mortal realm and a
combination of my own songs, rhymes, and word challenges which helped increase her
vocabulary in each language a hundredfold than just memorizing the words by rote. Maybe
I should have been a language teacher instead of a magician.
Ava always rolled her eyes and snorted whenever we did language lessons. "Don't
see why you have to be bothered learning all them foreign tongues, Master. Nobody speaks
'em round here except you and the little one." Nisses never needed to learn languages, they
spoke the native tongue of whatever household they dwelled in.
"No knowledge is ever wasted, Ava," I told her.
"If you say so," the Nis sniffed, then turned back to her sweeping.
Belle looked up from her exercises and giggled. She loved Ava, the Nis was the
closest thing she had to a mother, but sometimes I knew she found the little creature's
notions silly. Today I'd assigned her to write down ten new words in French and use them
aloud in a sentence.
"Okay. Let's hear your new words, Belle," I said, and leaned back in my chair
expectantly.
"Idiot." She announced. "Sometimes Ava can be an idiot."
I frowned at her. "Not funny. Give me another one."
"How about jackass? Yesterday you called Thor a jackass," she lisped in perfect
French.
That was probably true, I thought ruefully. But I hadn't been using French. "Belle Laufey!
You know you're not allowed to use swear words." I reproved. "Now quit it."
"How about damn?" she continued, giving me her sweetest smile. "Is that a swear
word?"
She knew perfectly well it was. It was going to be one of those mornings. "Sounds
like someone's asking to get spanked and sent to her room," I threatened, using the most
potent weapon in my arsenal.
"No! I'll be good. Sorry." Then she glanced down at her paper and bit her lip.
Lest you think I terrified my child into obedience with a switch, let me explain that
my version of a spanking was three smacks on the behind with my hand. When she was
older it got increased to six, but never anything more. And I used it as a last resort, or when
she'd done something truly terrible, like touching my magical apparatus or wandering off
the property without telling me. When she was an adult she told me the worst thing about
my spanking her wasn't the fact that it hurt (though it did sting), but the fact that she'd made
me mad enough to hit her in the first place. My disappointment stung worse than my hand,
apparently. So you see, I wasn't the ogre everyone paints me.
"Well? Read me the next word on your list," I encouraged.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know if whore counts as swearing."
Now I knew I'd never taught her that one and it wasn't in any of the books we had
either. "Let me see that list!" I reached out and took the paper she'd written on. On it were
the French slang for a prostitute, penis, breast, and several other assorted swear words.
"Where did you hear these words, young lady?" I demanded, fixing her with my most
disapproving glare. "Because they certainly weren't anything I taught you."
"Hugin and Munin taught me." She answered truthfully. "I was practicing outside
yesterday and they came down and said they could teach me all kinds of words in every
language known to man." Hugin and Munin (Thought and Memory in Old Norse), were
Odin's giant ravens, his eyes and ears both in Asgard and Midgard. They were the worst
spies, sneaks, and rascals in the realms.
"Oh, they'll teach you some new words all right," I said heatedly. "Every swear
word ever invented. Wait'll I get hold of those two rascals. Making my daughter swear like
a dockhand. I'm going to yank out their tail feathers for that little prank."
"Maybe they didn't know those words were bad either," Belle defended them. She's
always had a soft spot for animals.
"Oh, they knew what they were saying. They're not stupid. They can speak and
understand any language they hear. It was just a big joke to them, giving you those words
to learn."
"But they nearly got me in big trouble," my daughter said angrily. "That's not funny
at all."
"No, it isn't," I sighed. Though I had to admire their sneakiness. "But we'll worry
about them later." I picked up my French dictionary and copied out ten new vocabulary
words on the same sheet of paper, since parchment was expensive stuff and I didn't have
much to waste. "Here. See if you can use these in a sentence, ma cherie."
After French we moved on to addition and a brief lesson about the differences
between humans and animals. Then it was Ava's turn to teach her cooking and the best way
to get stains out of a shirt. Not that the Nis let her come anywhere near the stove, but she
did allow the child to mix ingredients together and grease pans and other minor cooking
chores.
By midmorning school was finished for the day and I let her go outside and play,
after first reminding her of her promise not to venture near the black pond on the far side of
the pasture. The black pond was the abode of a very nasty nixie, a water sprite that liked to
lure unwary people into her pond and drown them. We had an uneasy truce, old Lady Dire
and I. I allowed her to live in the pond and she promised in turn not to lure people into the
pond and drown them. That bargain had been struck several centuries ago, when I first built
the house in the valley, and in all of that time the nixie had not had so much as a whiff of
sweet immortal flesh to sate her appetite. She spent most of her days sitting at the bottom
of the pond, playing sad songs upon her harp of bones and moaning about how she was
wasting away from starvation.
That was a lie, since as a fae creature, she did not need to eat for sustenance, only
pleasure. She'd gained the craving for human flesh long ago, when she lived in Midgard in
a river with treacherous currents that brought her newly drowned victims as often as three
times a month or more. Her tribute, she called it back then, and sometimes she would grab
the victim of the capsized boat and hold him or her under so they could die quicker. She
never told me why she'd been banished back to Asgard, though I'd guessed it was because
she'd probably eaten someone she shouldn't have, like one of Odin's warrior heroes or
something.
Lady Dire (a name I gave her and not her real one) tried her wiles on me when I first
began building my house. I had worked hard that day using my powers to raise timbers set
into the foundation and attach the roof beams. If you think this was an easy task simply
because I used magic instead of physical strength think again! It's just as taxing using magic
for that kind of thing as it is using muscles, and after the morning was over I was sweating
and had a throbbing headache.
One of the consequences of my headache was a reduced appetite, but I forced myself
to eat some bread and cheese, since I needed to replenish my energies. The bread was rather
stale and the cheese dry (I didn't have Olga yet, and had to make do with the substandard
cheese they make up at Valhalla). It left me with a raging thirst and the closest source of
water was a large pond just west of my construction site. It was overhung with large willows
and looked like a nice place for me to rest and maybe take a nap.
To placate whatever tree spirits might live here, I dug a small hole beside the largest
tree and placed a bit of bread in it. Then I tossed the remainder of my lunch into the pond
as an offering to whatever lived there. Normally that would have been enough for any
ordinary water nixie. So I knelt down, splashed some water on my face, and then I bent over
to drink some in my hands.
That was when Lady Dire showed herself, rising up from the depths, crooning a
lovely ballad. Dire, like most nixies, has long tresses the color of seaweed, pale opal-
colored skin, and slanted eyes the color of aquamarines, heavily fringed with dark lashes.
Her hands are long and delicate looking with gauzy membranes between each finger. Her
feet are also webbed and rather like flippers. Nixies don't bother much with clothing, they
really don't need it, living as they do in the water. So all Dire had on was a very skimpy
skirt of sea palm fronds and the rest of her lithe form was clothed only in her lustrous hair,
which she'd decorated with shells and agates and polished stones.
Sounds like every man's fantasy, doesn't she? Believe me, nothing could be further
from the truth. She lives to bewitch mortals, especially men and little children, into her
embrace. Her nails are poisonous, one scratch from them and you'll go to sleep forever.
Her arms look sweet and inviting, but once they wrap about you, you won't get free this side
of heaven. Then there's her song, a nixie's most potent weapon. A nixie's song can be
pleasant to listen to, if she's singing for sheer pleasure and not trying to make a meal of you.
But when she's hunting that song is pure seduction, designed to make a man lose all reason
and desire her above all things. Even to walking into a raging river fully clothed and
surrendering himself to the current, deaf to the cries of his wife and family on the shore.
Seven times out of ten an unprotected man will fall prey to her enchantment and meet a
watery death.
Being a magician, I wasn't fooled by her glamour casting, and I saw through her
lovelorn act immediately. Even so, her song was nearly powerful enough to make me
consider taking her hand, for Dire was a very old and powerful nixie, and she'd had
centuries to practice her craft.
But I'd made an offering, which negated her hold over me somewhat, and my natural
resistance to glamour spells and beguiling enchantments was strong enough to overcome any
lingering thoughts I may have had about embracing her.
"Nice try, lady, but your crocodile tears and your laments don't work on me," I said,
drawing away from the edge of the lake.
Furious, she kicked her foot, splashing me with water, like a little child having a
tantrum. "No fair, magician!" she cried, pouting. "You're the first man to come along in
simply ages and you won't even do me the courtesy of becoming my dinner." She sighed,
flicking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been so lonely, and I haven't had a decent rib
bone or a nice liver to munch on in three centuries."
"My heart bleeds for you, nixie." I said. "Did people used to live here once before
you drowned them?"
"No. Weren't you listening? No one ever comes here. The last time I had a man he
was old and stringy. He gave me indigestion." She fluttered her lashes at me. "You seem
tired, magician. Won't you take a nap in the shade of that willow there?"
"Not if it means you're going to command the roots to grab me and throw me into
the pond," I said, wise to her tricks.
"Now, would I do that?" she said, pretending to be hurt. "I'm a nice girl. Well,
some of the time," she purred, changing from innocent maiden to temptress in a flicker of
an instant. "Don't you think I'm pretty?" she cooed, standing up and letting the water run
off her skin, displaying all of her considerable charms.
"Oh, you're pretty. The way a viper's pretty," I laughed, ignoring the sudden surge
of desire she provoked in me. "But I like my women warm and my bed on dry land, not the
bottom of a lake."
"You wouldn't mind it once I took you in my arms, you handsome thing," Dire sang.
"And you'd have all eternity to get used to it."
"As what? The newest skeleton in your collection? Thanks, but no."
"It wouldn't hurt, lover. And you'd experience rapture beyond your wildest dreams.
You'd go to your death smiling. Trust me." She began to twirl about, using her body to
weave a sinuous dance of desire that was the equal of any I'd ever seen performed in the
bazaars of Arabia. "Come to me, come live with me and be my love, forever and ever," she
sang, her voice sweet as honey and potent as Falernian wine.
She was using the full force of her powers and her voice made my skin quiver and
my groin throb. My head felt like someone was beating it with a hammer and for an instant
I allowed her sweet poison to take hold of my consciousness.
I swayed towards the lake edge, a foolish grin plastered on my face, the pain in my
head dulling to a mere twinge. Dire continued to dance and sing, smiling invitingly.
But there was a burning sensation at the base of my neck, and I glanced down,
irritated at having my reverie interrupted. Once I saw my runestone, glowing white hot,
suspended on its iron chain, her spell was broken. I wore a special rune of protection about
my neck, and it was this that had saved me. Dire's song, powerful though it was, wasn't
strong enough to overcome the twin forces of protective magic and iron.
I broke out in a cold sweat then at how close I'd come to walking right down her
throat. Loki, you stupid ass! I scolded myself sternly. You know better than to be taken in
by a water-breathing whore of a siren, no matter how tired you are or how much your head
aches.Dire was not aware I'd broken free of her spell, for she was still gyrating and
crooning. Something would have to be done about her, I resolved. I couldn't have her
practicing her deadly wiles on anyone happening by, the souls of the drowned become
draugr, unquiet ghosts that haunt the place where they died, generating auras of negative
energy. That kind of aura would disrupt my spellcasting and I didn't want to live next to a
haunted pond.
I was also angry at how she'd almost trapped me, and I decided to teach her a lesson
about who really ruled here. So I pretended to be lured by her song, drifting closer and
closer to the lake edge. Now that the runestone had broken her spell, I was in no danger of
being beguiled a second time. I took a link from the iron chain about my neck and
whispered a charm of enlarging and increase. I now held an iron chain the length of a man
curled in my palm. It was thin, but it would serve to bind a nixie, who can't bear the touch
of cold iron on her fae flesh.
The toes of my boots touched the surface of the lake and Dire quit singing and came
for me in a flash, nails outstretched to scratch, ready to wrap me in a hug from which there
would be no return. She was still smiling her siryn's grin.
The tips of her nails just grazed my shirt before I twirled the chain and wrapped it
about her. At the first touch of iron on her flesh, she crumpled, wailing in pain and fury.
"Aiee! You tricked me, magician! Cold iron is the enemy of all my kind." She wriggled like
a hooked fish, but I shouted the words to a binding spell and the chain tightened about her
like a net, leaving welts on her pale skin.
"Oh! Get it off, please! It burns!" she wept, salty tears trickling from her eyes.
"First I want your word, sworn upon your immortal name, that you'll never lure
anyone, man, woman, or child, here and drown them."
"No! You can't make me swear that! I need their flesh to live."
"You don't. You can eat fish and cattail roots," I pointed out mercilessly.
"They taste nasty!" she spat, writhing. "I want some real food."
"I don't care. You're living on my land now, nixie, and that means you play by my
rules. No drownings, accidentally or otherwise. I won't have draugr sending evil influences
to disrupt my wards."
"You're cruel and nasty," she shrieked. "I wish I'd ripped your throat out when I had
the chance, you deceitful bastard!"
"Now, now. You shouldn't talk like that about your master, Lady Dire," I drawled
softly, but the look I gave her could have scorched the hide off an ox. "And I am your
master, nixie, for I claim all the land here as far as the western boundary stones." I indicated
the glittering white ward stones that marked the end of the boundary between my land and
that of the rest of Asgard, which belonged to no one in particular. "This pond is on my
property and therefore it—and you, sweet thing—fall under my jurisdiction."
"Oooh, how I hate you! If I could get free of this blasted chain, I'd show you who's
master here, you icy-hearted son of a squid!" Dire cursed.
I crossed my arms over my chest and waited until she'd exhausted herself fighting
my chain, turning the air blue with her curses. At last she was still, gasping for breath, her
face wet with tears of rage and pain.
"You done with your little tantrum, fish girl?" I inquired. "Good. Now I'm going
to ask you again, and this time you'd better answer me nicely, or else I'm going to get mad.
And you won't like it if that happens. Because if you make me mad, I'll leave you here for
the rest of the day and let the sun bake your bones and dry out your hair and burn that fair
skin of yours black."
"You wouldn't!"
"Try me."
"All right. I'll swear to whatever you want!" she sobbed, her head drooping.
"Do you promise upon your immortal name?" I asked sharply, for only then would
she be bound to keep her word.
"Yes!"
"Repeat after me then. I swear upon my immortal name to never seduce, with song,
magic, glamour, or feminine wiles of any kind any traveler or guest, who sets foot upon the
land of Loki the Magician of Asgard for all of forever. Should I break my oath I will also
be bound to whatever punishment my master chooses to mete out to me, up to and including
my death."
"There! I've sworn your damn oath, now will you let me go?"
"Your wish is my command, lady," I said and spoke the word that shrunk the chain
to a single iron link again.
The nixie climbed to her feet and dove back into the water where the icy liquid could
soothe the welts left by the iron from her skin. She resurfaced a minute later, hissing at me.
"Someday, Loki, you will regret this bargain, I promise you!"
"Not in this life. And Dire, make no mistake, if you break your word, I'll know and
then I'll come back here and kill you with fire and iron."
"An empty threat, magician. For I'll not be tricked into breaking my word. I'll
outlive you yet!" Then she dove back into the pond to curl up in her watery bed and lick her
wounds.
I gave myself a mental pat on the back as I walked away from there. There were few
Aesir who could have gotten the better of that slippery sea hag in a battle of wits. I was
quite proud of the way I'd bound her so neatly to her word. And done it without maiming
or seriously hurting her, except her pride. Why didn't I kill her that day? I certainly could
have done so, a fact we both knew very well.
Two reasons. One, I'm not in the habit of killing someone arbitrarily. The nixie,
while an unpleasant creature, still had the same right to live as I did. Two, I'm not the kind
of hero who rides about ridding the world of evil. I'll leave that kind of thing to the Sigurds
and Baldurs of the world. They would have seen it as their bound duty to slay her, for
according to their creed she was an "evil" creature. I saw her as a predator, dangerous and
not to be trusted, but no more evil than a crocodile or a shark, who also ate human flesh if
they could get it. So long as she did me no harm, I would leave her be.
But if the day ever arrived when she became a danger, I would kill her without
regrets, the same way a shepherd killed a rogue wolf stalking his flock.
For centuries, we had a truce, and we went our separate ways. I avoided the
pond and she never tried to seduce me with her song again, though sometimes on misty
nights when the moon was full I would hear her singing, very softly, to herself.
Little did I know that all of that would change the day I adopted a green-eyed
whirlwind. As soon as she was old enough to understand and able to walk outside for short
stretches, I told Belle about Lady Dire, stressing the fact that the nixie was a Bad Creature
and she must never venture near the pond. I reminded her of this fact every time I let her
go outside to play in the barn or in the pasture which bordered the pond. I also told her that
the nixie was bound with my magic not to hurt people, but she was to stay away from the
pond anyway.
Belle was usually an obedient child, and sensible, so I did not worry too much that
she would disobey me. I should have known better. The lure of the forbidden is an
irresistible force when you're a child, especially one who was as curious as Belle.
My complacency nearly cost me dearly. The morning of that near-disastrous French
lesson, I sent her out to play as usual, intending to join her as soon as I'd grabbed my rune
satchel. I wanted to renew the wards on the boundary stones that afternoon, they required
renewing every century or so to keep the spell fresh and able to keep out trolls, giants, draugr
and any other harmful influences.
I walked out with my rune sticks, ready to redraw the sigils at each of the four basalt
posts that marked the boundaries of my property. The first one was about a yard from the
house, and I lit the tip of one ash rod and drew the rune for protection, eohir, in blue fire, at
the top of the post and then sealed the ward with my personal mark, a stylized flame. A line
of blue light stretched from the pillar across the north end of my land.
I turned my head to see where Belle was, and saw she was playing quietly with her
doll and some wooden animals I'd carved for her last year. She was serving them pretend
tea and cakes made out of pieces of bark and leaves. Seeing her safely occupied, I blurred
into wolf shape, and covered the distance to the next boundary stone in a twinkling. Then
I shifted back and reset the next ward. From there I loped on to the third stone, in the east
corner. Then I made my way back down to the last one, redrawing the sigil with the last ash
rod. The wards were humming with renewed energy and I was satisfied they'd hold against
anything short of a concentrated attack by several master witches or wizards.
Belle was still playing tea party beneath the oak tree in the corner of the yard. By
then my stomach was growling and I was going to go inside and grab some lunch, perhaps
have a picnic on the lawn with Belle, when an unexpected visitor came knocking at my gate.
I hurried down the drive to open it, wondering who on earth would come visit me in
the middle of the day. Baldur had an open invitation to come up to the house, he never
knocked. And I hadn't spoken with my other relatives in years. I threw the bolt on the stout
six-foot oaken gate and swung it open.
There stood Odin, in his gray travel cloak and seven-league boots, walking staff in
his hand. "Hello, Loki. Mind if I come in for a bit?"
"Come in and be welcome," I said, stepping back so he could enter. Once he done
so, I bolted the gate behind him. "What brings you here, brother?" I asked as we walked
back up the drive. "From your clothes, I'd say it looks like you're going wandering again."
Odin only wore his gray outfit when he was going to make a trip down to Midgard in the
guise of the Wanderer. He did this periodically to test the hospitality of his worshippers and
to relieve the boredom of ruling Asgard for centuries at a time.
"I am. It's that time of year again," he answered, his one eye twinkling. "You know
as soon as spring comes I get restless. Asgard is beautiful, but I need to see something
besides endless green hills and golden meadows."
"And you need to hear something other than the endless bickering and drunken
boasting of your family," I added with a soft laugh.
"That too. So I figured as long as I was in the area I'd stop by and see how you were
doing. How's that daughter of yours doing? Bet she keeps you on your toes, eh, Master
Mischief?" he said with a knowing grin.
"That she does, brother. She's growing like a weed. Three years old and she's
already reading and writing," I said proudly. "Before you know it she'll be reciting what's
his name—that blind Greek poet, the one who wrote those poems about the Trojan War."
"Homer," Odin supplied. "You surprise me, Loki. I never would have figured you
for the domestic type. What's happened to the wily rascal I used to know, the one who used
to have all those crazy adventures with me?"
"Oh, he's in here somewhere," I laughed, tapping my chest. "But he's taking a break
for now. Raising this child is enough of an adventure for me right now, brother." I said,
ignoring the subtle hints he was throwing at me to come along with him. Much as I liked
traveling around Midgard, I wasn't ready to leave Belle this early in her development.
Besides, I had been down to visit Midgard already in the last three years, so I was not quite
the housebound recluse he thought.
"Did you get the gift I sent you for her birthday?" he asked as we continued strolling
leisurely towards the house. He'd never seen my daughter save for once when she was a tiny
baby, but he never forgot her birthday, which was the anniversary of her arrival on my
doorstep.
"You mean the magic brush that makes tangles disappear from her hair?" I clarified.
"Oh, yes. It's been very useful, especially since she's taken to trying to brush her hair on her
own. In fact, I was going to have her write you a thank you note, but since you're here, she
can tell you in person." I darted a glance under the tree where she'd been just a few minutes
before, playing with her doll.
She was gone, though her doll and the remains of the tea party were still there.
"Huh. She must have gone inside to get a drink or something." I gestured for Odin to
proceed me up the porch steps. "Speaking of drinks, care for one?"
"If you don't mind. Got any ale?"
"Uh, no. You know I can't stand the stuff. But wine I have. Or cider."
"I've never been able to figure out your dislike of ale, Loki." Odin said, shaking his
head. "It's the national drink of our worshippers, so by all rights you ought to love it."
"Not necessarily," I defended myself. "It gives me dreadful hangovers. And since
I don't relish waking up the morning after puking and all, I'll stick to wine and cider. They
taste better too."
"I didn't think you ever drank enough to even get a hangover."
"I don't any more. Not after the first few times I sampled your blasted mead and
ended up sick as a dog. You wouldn't have noticed back then since you were probably as
bad as I was. I don't see you drinking a barrel any more either, like the rest of your sons,
brother mine."
"Frigga gets mad when I'm drunk too many times in a row. Last time she threatened
to belt me in the jaw and make me sleep with the goats if I came to bed drunk again." Odin
said ruefully. "Her temper's worse than any hangover, trust me."
We entered the house and I went to draw a cup of fermented cider from the single
barrel I kept in the corner. "Ava, have you seen Belle? I want her to come and say hello to
Odin."
The Nis turned from where she was polishing some glasses. "No, Master. I hasn't
seen her since she went outside to play after lessons."
"That's odd. Didn't she come back in here a minute ago?" I said, getting an uneasy
prickle of warning between my shoulderblades.
"Not that I noticed, sir." She then turned to greet Odin.
"Belle!" I called, peering up the ladder to the loft. "Come down and say hello to
your Uncle Odin."
No response. Normally she'd be down like a shot, Belle loves meeting people.
"Where the devil has she got to?" I muttered, getting annoyed. "Maybe she went out to the
barn to see Heror and Olga." I mused. The sick feeling in my stomach was growing and I
told myself sternly to stop overreacting. My workroom was spell-locked and there was
nothing in the barn or the yard that she could get into and since I'd reset the wards nothing
could get in and hurt her. The only thing on the whole place that might harm her was safely
bound with magic, and she wouldn't go near the pond to begin with, I reassured myself.
No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, then Belle began screaming, one long
drawn out wail of pure mortal terror. She never screamed like that and the sound froze the
blood in my veins. Worse, in the background I heard the nixie crooning her familiar lullaby.
"DIRE!" I howled, fear and rage such as I'd never known surging through me like
a tidal wave. I snatched the rapier I kept over my mantle and thrust it in my belt.
I bolted out of the house and willed myself to the pond with the speed of thought.
I appeared out of the air in a flurry of blue and red sparks, my magic reacting to my
fury.
The sight that greeted my eyes was one from my blackest nightmares. There was
Dire, her long hair swirling about her like a living thing, one foot in the lake and the other
on the shore, holding my baby in the crook of her arm, caressing her little face with a nail
and singing a Scandinavian lullaby in her deadly sweet voice.
Belle was no longer screaming, but she was crying silently, scared to death. "Papa!
Help me!" she wailed.
"Let her go, Dire." I panted, my heart beating so hard I felt as if it was going to fly
out of my chest.
"Papa, help me!" she mimicked, laughing softly. "Did I not say one day you'd regret
our bargain, magician?" she said silkily, stroking a hand down my child's hair. "Good things
come to those who wait, so the mortals say." She was licking her lips.
"You've broken your oath, you hag of hell," I spat, trembling with rage and fear.
"You know what that means, don't you?"
"Not so, Loki!" she challenged, clutching the squirming Belle tighter. "My oath was
to do no harm to travelers and guests that set foot on your land. You never said anything
about family." She bared her teeth in triumph.
I swore inwardly. Technically she was right. I hadn't bothered to include my
relatives in my provision because all of them were capable of protecting themselves against
her and in any case I never expected one of them to seek me out for anything save a short
visit. It had never occurred to me to alter the letter of our agreement once Bella came to live
with me.
"Not so clever are we now, little firehair?" Dire sneered. "She's fair game, since
she's neither guest nor traveler. And you know what? I didn't even need my song to lure her
to me. She saw me sitting here, combing my hair out and she came to see me all by herself,
the little chick. What pretty hair you have, says she. And I say I've got lots prettier things
in this box here, would you like to see? And I show her my pretty gold and gems, treasures
I claimed from my victims long and long ago. And she comes right over to see the lovely
sparkles and then I grab her! Such a curious little kitten, I tell her. But you know what
mortals say about curiosity and cats, don't you magician?" she taunted, laughing shrilly.
"They say curiosity killed the cat! And they'd be right."
I was sweating now, nearly frantic with fear. I dared not move against her directly,
for she could turn and dive into the pond quicker than a flash and once down there she
would be in her element and I knew I would never be able to get Belle out of there in time.
I had one chance to rescue my daughter from her slimy clutches. I had to stall for time.
"Look, Dire, let's make a deal," I said, playing for time. "You give me back my
daughter and I won't hurt you."
"Give her back? The first tasty morsel I've had in years?" she cackled. "I think not,
magician! And she's so strong, so full of life. She's a water witch of great potential, did you
know that? Oh yes, someday she'll be able to foretell storms and command the waves and
speak with selkies and mermaids. A powerfully Gifted child! One day she might even have
been able to command me. That's how she was able to resist my song for so long, you see.
But she's not a match for me yet, oh no, not yet darling. Maybe when you're grown . . .but
you'll never live to grow up, now will you?" Dire snickered at her own wit, giving Belle a
tender look, the way one might look at a steak arranged on a platter.
I shivered in revulsion. Belle's struggles had loosened the nixie's grip somewhat,
though not enough for her to slip free. But there was space between my child and the nixie's
right arm, which she was using to hold Belle to her chest. It was an opening nearly wide
enough for a sword thrust, if I timed it correctly.
Now I'm no master swordsman, but I learned how to fight from the best masters in
Spain and Italy and my sword was a rapier of the finest Spanish steel. I'd traded the
Diamond of Belize for it and it was worth a king's ransom. I shut my eyes, focusing all of
my concentration and will upon the slight opening beneath the nixie's arm. I had one chance
to thrust my rapier home. If I failed, my daughter would never see the sun again.
Belle, sweetheart, listen to me, I sent to her using my telepathy. She was a latent
telepath as well, so I knew she'd hear me. Don't say anything, just lean off to your left a
little. I'm going to get you out of her arms, I swear it, but I need you to move just a bit,
all right?
Uh huh. I caught her slender thought and opened my eyes.
My brave child suddenly started squirming in the nixie's grasp, leaning over to her
other side, forcing Dire to take her eyes off me for a moment to adjust her hold on Belle.
Leaving her right side unguarded for one precious minute.
My sword was out of its sheath and lunging toward that hole beneath her arm in a
flash.
The rapier's tip pierced the nixie's pale flesh like a hot knife through butter.
Dire screeched in agony, dropping Belle to clutch instinctively at her wounded side.
Deep green blood was spurting from the wound, which I judged was a fatal one. I withdrew
my sword, just as my child scrambled up onto the bank and threw herself at my feet, safely
beyond the reach of the mortally wounded nixie.
"I warned you once, Dire. Now you pay the price," I growled, and with a gesture I
coated my blade with fire. Then I plunged the fiery sword right beneath her left breast,
killing her instantly. Her body caught fire like an oil-soaked torch then, and for the span of
about thirty seconds she became a pillar of incandescent flame, soaring to the heavens.
Then the fire went out and all that remained of the nixie was a fine gray ash that coated the
top of the pond in a scummy film.
I sheathed my sword, my knees giving way in relief. I sank to the ground at the edge
of the pond, and Belle crawled into my arms and I held her so tightly she gasped for breath.
"Are you hurt?" I managed to ask. "Did she scratch you?"
"No." Belle answered, hugging me close.
Fear was becoming replaced by anger now and I snapped, "What were you doing
here? How many times have I told you never to go near this pond?" I half-shook her, then
I stopped and simply held her, whispering prayers of thanksgiving to the Norns that I had
been in time.
"I'm sorry!" Belle wailed, then she began to bawl in earnest, great gulping sobs that
shook her entire frame.
"If one of mine had disobeyed me like that, I'd have given them a good whipping,"
Odin said from behind me.
"Shut up. Just shut up!" I ordered raggedly. I climbed to my feet, holding my
precious child close. "The damn nixie nearly drowned her and all you say is I should beat
her? Have you lost your wits?"
"The nixie actually had her? I thought she only threatened the kid. That's different
then. Sorry."
"Save it," I growled, half-running the rest of the way back to the house. Belle was
still crying, though the force of her sobs had diminished somewhat. "You're all right, baby.
No one's ever gonna hurt you like that again," I whispered in her ear.
I kicked open the door, saying over my shoulder, "Make yourself at home. I'll be
back in just a minute. I need to get her out of these wet clothes and tucked in bed."
I carried her into my bedroom, setting her down carefully on the bed. "Stay right
there, darling. I'll be right back," I said gently, leaving to grab a towel from my linen chest
in the closet and a warm nightgown.
I muttered a quick spell to dry out my shirt, which was soaking wet. Then I took
towels and nightgown and returned to my child, who was sitting up exactly where I'd left
her, soaking wet and shivering.
"Are you gonna spank me like he said?" she asked. "I'm sorry I was bad."
"Hush. Of course I'm not going to spank you. Gods, Belle, you've been punished
enough. I nearly lost you." I gently removed her wet clothes and wrapped her up in the
towel, hugging her to me as I dried her, tears falling onto her still-damp hair. I held her and
rocked her, weeping silently.
"Don't cry, Papa," she lisped suddenly, and reached out a hand to pat my cheek.
I sat up then, ashamed and amused all at once. I was the one who should be
comforting her, not the other way around. I dried her hair with magic then bundled her into
her nightgown and underclothes. "Feel better now?" I asked, kissing her forehead.
"Yes. M'sleepy." She murmured, cuddling against my chest.
"Go to sleep, sweetheart," I said, weaving a sleeping charm about her so she would
sleep soundly without dreams.
I warmed her sheets with a gentle heat spell, since it was a bit chilly. Then I tucked
her into bed and left the lamp on. She should sleep for several hours. I called Ava and
asked her to watch her for a bit. "She should sleep for a long time, but I want you near just
in case she throws off the sleeping charm." I instructed. "Call me if she wakes."
"Certainly, Master. Poor little mite! That wicked nixie! I always knew she'd come
to a bad end. I'm glad you roasted her like she deserved."
Roasted, I thought wryly. An apt description for what I'd done, indeed. Ava shooed
me gently from the room, and when I glanced back she had already begun stripping the wet
sheets from my bed.
I found Odin at the table, eating bread, cheese, and smoked ham that Ava had
obviously set out for him. He had also drawn himself another cup of cider.
I seated myself opposite him and helped myself to some food, Ava had already
poured me a cup of wine. After the day I'd had, I probably needed the whole bottle.
"Is she all right?"
"Yeah. I put a sleep charm on her. She wasn't hurt, thank the Norns. Only soaked
to the skin and scared to death. When I think of what could have happened . . ." I shuddered.
"I should have killed that damn nixie years ago."
"It's dead now? You killed it, didn't you?" I nodded. "I apologize for that stupid
comment. I should have kept my mouth shut, but when I got there all I heard was you
yelling how many times have I told you to stay away from here? D'you know how many
times I said that to one of mine? Usually right after they'd just wrecked the place. I didn't
think. I thought you'd caught her teasing it or something and you had driven it away. Thor
used to torment the one we had in our lake something awful till I got sick of it and thrashed
him one day. If I'd known it had actually come out of the pond and grabbed her . . ."
"Forget it. You're entitled to say something stupid every century or so, O Wise
One." I teased lightly. "I forgot you weren't there for the whole thing."
"When you took off, I thought you'd yelled something about fire, so I followed you
outside looking for one by the barn, but when I didn't see one I went towards that little
orchard. I can't see too good with only one eye, and it was only after I saw the pillar of fire
down by the pond that I headed there. I knew I should have brought Hugin and Munin with
me."
"Speaking of your ravens . . ." I began, taking a quick gulp of sweet Chian wine. "I
need you to ask them a favor."
"Name it."
"Tell them to quit teaching my daughter how to swear in ten different languages."
I told him about the word list and he burst out laughing. So did I.
"Damn rascals! Still, even you have to admit it was a good prank."
"Not according to Belle. I threatened to spank her over it."
"You'd thrash her over a couple of swear words? Hells, if I hit mine every time they
said one, they'd be black and blue forever."
"She's only three, brother, not three thousand," I reminded him.
"Oh. Right. I keep forgetting how young she is, you talk about her as if she were
much older."
"That's because she's too smart for her age," I said. "But then, I should have
expected that. After all she is my daughter."
"Not by blood."
"That doesn't matter," I said firmly. "I love her just as much, if not more, than I
would a child of my body. I'm her father, not whoever sired her. There's more to being a
father than just siring children." I broke off my lecture with a rueful grin. "Guess I don't
need to tell you that, do I?"
"Not really, but I was going to let you anyhow. You've changed since you became
a parent, little brother."
"For the better, I hope."
"There's no comparison," Odin said, straight-faced.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Figure it out, Smartass."
I glared at him. Then I started to laugh again. I love Odin. He's one of the few
people who can make me laugh at myself.
Next: An unexpected person visits Loki's house, and once again the magician finds himself an unlikly rescuer.