Sweet Interlude

"Well, I'm for a bath and a change of clothes before dinner," I said, wrinkling my nose at my shirt, which smelled strongly of sweat and horse. "Belle can show you where you can wash up and put your things," I told Marissa, who was looking about my cottage with interest.

"You mean you actually have indoor plumbing? Like a fancy hotel? Then we don't have to go outside?" she exclaimed, her eyes shining like an eager child's.

"Well, if you really want to swim naked in my pond, I won't stop you, sweetheart," I said, smirking lasciviously. The images that statement conjured . . . let's just say they made my heart race . . .like a runaway train.

Belle gave me a disgusted glance and muttered something in Norse about men that have only two things on their minds, which I ignored. Marissa went pink and said that it was too cold for that now, and Leif looked at me and then Marissa and raised an eyebrow knowingly.

"You wouldn't want to swim in the pond anyway, Marissa," Belle said. "It's all slimy and mucky on the bottom. A nixie named Dire used to live there, before Father killed her for trying to drown me, so I wouldn't recommend it."

"Oh. What's a nixie?"

"A water sprite. Some are good, some aren't. Dire was as nasty as they come," Belle informed her. "She had a taste for human flesh, among other things."

"But she's been dead for years now," I hastened to reassure my beloved, who was looking a bit sick. "There's nothing dangerous in that pond any more, unless you count seaweed. Nothing on my land will harm you, Marissa."

"That's true. Not even a gnat can creep onto Master Loki's property and not get noticed by him," Leif chimed in. "And anything else, like a giant, will get fried by the wards before they can set their big toe down across the boundary stones."

"Giants? There are giants living here?"

"No, not in Asgard. But they live nearby, in Jotunheim and Muspelheim," I clarified. "I'll explain later. For now, go with Belle and sample the delights of my Roman baths. There's nothing like them in all of Asgard."

"You're kidding, right? How on earth could you have Roman baths here?" Marissa gestured to the interior of my house. "This doesn't look big enough for anything more than a necessary and a tin tub."

"Looks can be deceiving, especially in a magician's house," I answered. "The inside of my home is bigger than it would appear on the outside. A little space warp spell is all it takes and voila—I've got baths to rival Caesar's own." I gestured to an innocent looking wooden door just to the right of the kitchen.

"Do all of you Norse gods have these amenities?"

I laughed. "Not on your life! Only Baldur, because I like him and introduced them to him. The others are still uneducated rude beasts who only bathe once a month. Or at least it seems that way. Didn't I ever tell you that I spent a good couple of years living in the Roman Empire once upon a time? I noted very carefully all the nice civilized inventions they had there and made sure to copy plans and such so I could bring them back here and enjoy them. I have indoor latrines and heating and everything. I've got the best of both worlds here, Rissa, if I do say so myself."

"He's right. Even Ran, the sea goddess, is envious of my father's baths. Her people bathe in underwater hot springs." She beckoned to the other woman. "Come on, Rissa. We have some wonderful lotus and lavender soap and a milk and honey extract that works miracles on hair too. Father always claimed he got those from Cleopatra's handmaid, if you can believe that . . ."

I left my daughter and my beloved alone to clean up, retiring to my room to gather up some clean clothes and then I sat down to wait. When Belle was small, I hadn't built my bath house yet, and had to resort to giving her a bath beside the fire. Later, once I'd discovered her love of water, I'd implemented the plans I'd acquired from some Roman engineers and added the baths. It was a lot of work, magically speaking, that is, but the end result was worth all the hours I'd put into it. I'd had help, of course, from the dwarves, who were some of the best miners and engineers in the business and also some pretty water nymphs, who helped with the tile and the filling of each of the pools.

I'd called in quite a few favors that week, but I've never regretted it. Nor did anyone who worked on the project with me. Rarely does a person in debt to a magician get to work off what he or she owes building a mere bath house. Most magicians prefer to keep those who owe them around as slaves for years or worse if they happen to be practitioners of the dark arts. Me, I prefer a direct exchange of money, labor, or talent or knowledge and that's the end of it. Doing anything else only breeds resentment in one party or another.

Soon enough, the women emerged from the facilities, looking—and smelling—like goddesses. Leif and I groaned appreciatively, exchanging looks of mutual longing, then went to wash off the trail dust ourselves.

I was reluctant to leave my soothing watery cocoon, but I knew Ava would become extremely annoyed if I didn't show up on time for dinner. So I quit soaking and cooled off in the frigidarium before dressing in my favorite emerald green and gold tunic and trousers, complete with the ermine-furred half-cape and spit-shined dragonscale boots.

Those boots would be worn during the expedition to Muspelheim, since they were the only footwear I owned that would stand up to the lava fields of that cursed realm. No, I did not slay a dragon to make them, in case you were wondering. I traded a seeing crystal and a magic wand for enough shed scales from Fafnir's brother Fraynir to make myself a pair of knee-high boots. Fraynir was delighted with the exchange, since the shed scales were cluttering up his den.

Practical concerns aside, the real reason I'd chosen to wear the dragonscale tonight was because I knew they looked great with my outfit and I wanted to impress my sweet bareback rider with how lordly I looked. Lately all she'd seen me in was my stage magician outfit and denims and chambray. Not exactly the height of fashion.

I made a mental note to find the specially protected scarves and headcloths I'd stored away in a trunk in the attic. We need them if we were going to go traipsing about Muspelheim and not suffer from breathing the ash-laden air of that cursed place. That and the desert silks I'd purchased from an Arab merchant some centuries ago. I grimaced, for I'd rather be walking down a dragon's gullet than crossing the Black Land again. I cursed Malastein to the eternal frozen depths of Nifheim for making an alliance with Surtur the Sly, then resolved to put both of them out of my head for tonight.

Time enough to worry about enemies tomorrow. Right now all I wanted was to relax and enjoy the last home cooked meal I was going to get in awhile. I was just getting ready to descend the stairs when Ava appeared in front of me.

"Master, we is waiting dinner on you, so hurry up before it all goes cold."

"Yes, Ava," I said in my best meek and starving manner.

"Oh, and Baldur is here too, so you have another guest for dinner," she informed me cheekily, then vanished.

Baldur? What in blazes was he doing here? I wondered. Not that I minded, for he was always welcome at my home, but he usually didn't drop in unannounced like this. I took the stairs two at a time and entered the dining hall to find Baldur seated on the left of my place, next to Belle. Marissa was on my right and Leif was next to Belle. There was an enormous rack of lamb basted with honey and mint sauce and huge dishes of peas, roasted potatoes, stewed cherries and freshly baked bread dripping with butter and honey. At each place were a glass of wine and a glass of water, though I noted Baldur had tapped into the cask of emergency honey mead instead.

"Hello, Loki. Hope you don't mind one more for dinner," my friend greeted me, lifting his mug to me.

"Long time no see, Baldur," I smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, receiving a bone-crushing hug in return. "You never need an invitation for dinner, you ought to know that by now. Ava always cooks enough for ten giants and Thor, Norns help us." I took my place at the head of the table and gestured for everyone to begin eating. The smell of the lamb was nearly making me drool on the tablecloth.

Everyone ate hungrily, and for several minutes there was only the clank of knife and fork and the quiet murmurings of appreciation at how sublime the food tasted. No one cooks as good as my Ava, and I ate until I could hold no more. So did everyone else. But when we were all stuffed, the amount of food left could have fed several orphanages down on Midgard.

"You, uh, want to take some home for Nanna and the kids?" I asked Baldur.

"Sure. But I'll be back by tomorrow morning, so don't think you can sneak away without me," the big warrior stated cheerfully.

I gave him a blank look. "What? Run that by me again."

"I said, I'll be back tomorrow, ready to go with you," Baldur repeated quietly.

"You know we're going to Muspelheim?" I gaped at him.

"To recover Gungnir, yeah, Belle told me. I thought you might need an extra hand with a sword, seeing as you've got plenty of brains along but no brawn. Magic doesn't count for everything in a fight."

"That's real nice of you Baldur, but it isn't necessary," I began, for while I wouldn't having an immortal warrior along, I also didn't want to be responsible should anything happen to him. Nanna would never forgive me. "We've got it all under control."

"Not from where I'm standing," Baldur said bluntly. "What if some pack of fire giants tries to kick your ass out of their homeland? How many can you all magic before one hits you upside the head with a club? You're gonna need a warrior who knows how to make a giant sit up and beg."

"This isn't your fight, old friend," I began.

"Like hell it isn't. Gungnir was an Asgardian artifact and last time I checked I was still a member of the Aesir. That makes it my fight. My brother's been out calling up an army, just in case the Vanir and the giants decide to invade Asgard. I could be with him, but he's got enough veterans on hand. Besides, I'd only get into fights with him over the way he runs the army, and that's the last thing we need now. But you need someone experienced to watch your back in Muspelheim, Loki. I've been there, I've fought Surtur's clan before, something none of your little band of magicians has done. When Belle told me where you were headed, I thought you'd lost your mind, dragging a bunch of green apprentices and a mortal woman into the Black Land. What were you thinking, that this was some kind of Sunday school picnic?"

I glared at him. "I knew what I was doing, Baldur the Brave!" I snapped. "I wasn't planning on having lunch with King Surtur, just finding the damned spear and getting the hell out of there as soon as possible. Something which I'm damn good at."

"Alone, maybe. But the kids and this human lady here have never learned how to walk unseen the way you have, O Master of Shadows. You telling me you can maintain a glamour on them and yourself long enough to locate Gungnir and get out without somebody noticing?" Baldur said skeptically. "I know you're good, Loki, but even you have limits. And what if this is a trap and you have to fight? You can't fight a Vanir lord skilled in magic and protect the rest of them at the same time. That'll only end in sorrow. That's why you need me with you and it's why I volunteered. End of story."

I ground my teeth together, for I knew he was right. Muspelheim was no realm for novice adventurers, a fact which had kept me awake for half the night last night. But I had no choice but to take them. I needed Marissa, the most vulnerable of us, to track Gungnir. I needed Belle for her Talent with wind and water, which would prove invaluable in the Black Land. And where Bella went, so did Leif, who was a mage of no small talent himself. I knew Muspelheim was a nightmare to travel in, especially for neophytes who'd never experienced it before. But Gungnir was there and so it was there we had to go.

"Baldur, Nanna would have my guts for bootlaces if anything happened to you," I played my trump card.

"She'd have mine if I didn't go along with you and you got yourself and Belle killed trying to be a bloody hero," Baldur returned, glaring back at me.

"I'm not trying to be a hero, damn it!"

"No? What d'you call it then, going into Surtur's realm with a handful of mortals and kids? A fool's hope is what I call it."

"Who asked you?"

"Actually, I did," Belle chimed in. "I told Uncle Baldur where we were going and asked what he thought of it, and we both agreed we could use a warrior along to kick some ugly giant's ass."

"Traitor," I muttered and gave her frown.

"Kid's got sense, Loki. More than her old man does at times. Now quit grumbling and just get used to the fact that I'm coming. You'll thank me later."

"Sure I will, Pa," I growled balefully. "Just don't come crying to me if a fire giant stomps you, Baldur."

"Now why would I do that, when I've got a trained sea-healer along?" my friend asked innocently. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"Just a stubborn ass."

"Takes one to know one."

I sighed. "Fine. You win. Happy now?"

"Thrilled as a beagle on a rabbit." Baldur laughed. "So what's for dessert?"

Later that evening, I left Baldur playing dice with Leif and Belle while Marissa and I went for a little moonlit stroll. Overhead the stars gleamed like diamonds and the feel of her hand in mine warmed me to the depths of my soul. We meandered down the path I'd made beneath the apple and cherry trees, which had just burst into blossom, filling the air with their sweet perfume.

Marissa was wearing a spring tunic and matching breeches of a robin's egg blue shade. She admitted shyly when I complimented her on them that she'd borrowed them from Belle. "They look better on you than they ever did on her."

"Flatterer," she laughed, though I could see my words pleased her immensely. As they were meant to.

"It's so peaceful here. So beautiful," she murmured, inhaling the apple blossom scented air like nectar. "How could you bear to leave it?"

"Most times I don't. I haven't done any major traveling since Bella was a baby. I'm quite content here among my apple trees and my books. This quest for Gungnir was something that should never have happened. Although I can't complain too much, because it led me to you, Marissa my love."

"Funny, isn't it, how things work out."

I turned her hand palm up and kissed it gently. "Mmm. The Norns work in mysterious ways. I'm still amazed you allowed me to court you."

She tilted her head to one side, an gesture I found utterly endearing. "And I'm amazed you chose me when you could have had your pick of gorgeous immortal women like Sigyn."

"Sigyn? How do you know what she looks like?"

"Bella and I got to talking while we were doing each other's hair and stuff. I asked her about Aesir women, what they did, how they dressed, and what they looked like. She said she could show better than she tell me, and she made the water into a mirror, like a window, I guess . . ."

"It's called a scrying pool," I interrupted softly.

"Yes. Anyway, she did that to the water and I could see part of Frigga's court, including her ladies. Sigyn was there. Loki, compared to her I'm like the ugly duckling. She's perfect—tall, willowy, she's got curves in all the right places, hair like silk and eyes like sapphires. Belle even admitted she's nice too, not stuck-up like half of Frigga's handmaids. And she's one of your kind—an immortal. So why by all that's holy would you want me?" She dropped her gaze down to her feet.

I lifted her chin with a finger. "Marissa, look at me. There, that's better." I smiled at her. "Yes, you're right when you say Sigyn's beautiful. She's an immortal, it's bred in us. The most plain among us would be extremely handsome to any mortal. That's part of our magic. But don't you see, Marissa? That's all it is—surface beauty. Haven't you ever heard the phrase beauty is only skin deep?"

"Yes. Pa used to say that sometimes, when I was a little girl and said I hated the way I looked."

"Well, whoever said that knew that true beauty isn't worn on a person's face, it's what's in here that counts." I tapped my chest for emphasis. "I've known some stunningly beautiful women in my life and none of them can hold a candle to you, Marissa Turner. You're funny and kind, generous and loving, daring and one of the bravest women I've ever known. You're the only woman I've ever told my true story to in over seven centuries, the only one I'd ever trust with my heart. So you're not fantastically beautiful. I love you precisely because you're not."

"Most men wouldn't."

"Yeah, well, I'm not most men. I'm a magician, and I learned long ago to look beneath the surface of a thing and see it for what it is, not for what it appeared. And Sigyn, for all her looks and her kind heart, is not the one I love. Only you have that honor. Or is it a burden? Considering all the hell you've been through since you met me."

She put a finger to my lips. "Never say that, Loki. Your love is a gift, a gift I never thought I'd ever receive, or even deserved. I will treasure it, and you, for all of my life." Then she drew my head down and kissed me.

I kissed her back hungrily, her words were a balm to my wounded spirit, torn and bleeding from years of neglect and mistrust. "Stars and stones, I need you so much, Marissa," I gasped, my mouth trailing kisses down her delicate neck. "Promise you'll never leave me."

"I promise. If you'll do the same," her breath misted my ear, making me shiver.

"I swear by all that I am, by the magic that is my life, I will be with you until you die."

"Good. Now kiss me again."

I obeyed, as eager as she was to explore this new territory. But I was careful not to go too far, despite my body's clamoring that it hadn't had a woman in a century or so. Now was not the time to indulge in wanton passion, for we had a mission to complete and the last thing I needed was to get her pregnant. Immortal and mortal pairings proved to be very fruitful, ironic as that sounded. Maybe something in a mortal's blood acted as a catalyst for an immortal's seed. Whatever the reason, I knew it was ridiculously easy for one of my kind to get a mortal woman with child, and while I would dearly love to have a dozen little Marissas running about, bringing a pregnant woman into Muspelheim would be like committing a double homicide.

So I had to be contented with a few more kisses and a snuggle beneath the apple tree. But I treasured even those little moments, and I knew Marissa did too. She ran a finger down my dragonscale boot teasingly.

"I like those boots. They make you look dashing. Like a pirate or a highwayman in one of those silly dime novels Maura liked to read."

"They're dragonscale, and I wore them because they won't tear or burn when we cross Muspelheim. Though you're right about women finding them irresistible."

She made a face at that. "I think they find the man more irresistible than the boots. Though they better keep their distance from now on. I don't share."

"Neither do I." I chuckled and pulled her tighter against me. "I'll have to treat everyone's footwear with my special oils tonight, so I can be sure they'll last the entire journey. Muspelheim's not called the Black Land for nothing. It's barren and blasted, full of cooled lava fields where nothing grows, and the only water that runs through it is tainted and undrinkable. Or a river of molten lava. That's why we can't take the horses."

"You mean we have to walk to wherever Gungnir is?" she cried in dismay.

"Afraid so, Miss Turner. It can't be helped. Horses, even mules, would die after a few days in Muspelheim. The air is poison to breathe and the only things that live there are the fire giants, salamanders, lava dragons and skorvalds—those are giant vultures that eat carrion and scraps the fire giants throw out."

"If the horses can't survive there, then how will we?"

"Simple. We'll have special scarves to breathe through that will filter out much of the ash and dust, carry plenty of water, and travel light as we can. That's one reason why I'm letting Belle come, because she can summon up rainstorms if we start to run low on water. She's a very strong water mage, and her Talent will be priceless when we cross the Barren Plains. Otherwise I'd never let her set foot across the border. In fact, if I didn't need all of you so much, I'd go hunting Gungnir myself and leave you all here, where it's safe. Unfortunately, that's not a path I can walk, so I'll do my damndest to keep all of you alive as best as I can. Which is why Baldur's allowed to come along on this little journey."

"Allowed? I'd have liked to see you stop him," Marissa snickered.

"Don't you think I could have?" I demanded, insulted. "He might be bigger, but I've taken down warriors twice his size with my magic before. There would've been a Baldur-shaped coat rack in my front entry if I'd wanted to get serious about it. They don't call me the Magician of Asgard for nothing you know."

"All right, Merlin. No need to get your feathers ruffled," she soothed. "Men! You're all so touchy when it comes to your pride. Though you're less so than some I've known on the circuit. Good thing too, because Baldur seems like a handy guy to have around in a fight."

"He is. He's one of the best swordsmen in Asgard. The fire giants practically wet themselves when they see him coming. He's killed more than his share of them during the last war we had with them."

"You two have been friends a long time, right? The way Marco and my father were."

I nodded. "Yeah. I've known him his whole life. He's about two centuries younger than I am, in case you were wondering. He's Odin and Frigga's youngest son, the best of them, in my opinion. Most everybody around here likes him, he's a good guy. He's one of the few immortals at court who's actually faithful to his marriage vows. His wife's name is Nanna and he's got two kids, Vali and Hilda. Once this business with the spear is over, I'll have to take you over to his place and introduce you."

"I'd like that a lot." Marissa yawned. "Goodness, I feel like a herd of bison just trampled me. Guess it's time for bed."

"Guess so," I said mournfully. Too bad I can't join you there, I thought wistfully. I rose to my feet, drawing her up after me. We walked slowly back to the house. I gave her another kiss before we went inside, gazing longingly after her long after she'd disappeared up into the loft.

Ava's subtle humming at my elbow nearly made me jump out of my skin.

"Fenrir's bones, Ava! Next time give a body some warning."

The Nis merely eyed me knowingly and giggled. "Ah, Master Loki, I knows the minute I saw her that she was the one for you. Looks like there's gonna be two weddings here, sure as the sun rises."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch," I reminded her. "She's not wearing my ring on her finger yet, little Nis."

"Only cause you hasn't got one," the little fae answered with that maddeningly sweet grin on her face. "But don't worry, Master, I hear the giants got lots of treasure up there and I'm sure they won't miss one pretty ring if you was to steal one."

I rolled my eyes. "Ava, I'm going there to get back an artifact that was stolen from us, not steal myself a betrothal ring." Although I had to admit that wasn't such a bad idea, and if I did happen to come across one that caught my fancy . . . "I'll worry about rings later. Right now I need some of that fire-proofing oil that's on the third shelf in my laboratory and Baldur, Leif, Marissa, and Belle's boots."

The Nis bowed and vanished to fetch the articles I'd requested and I settled down at the table to work the special oil into the leather, for it would need the night to soak into the material. I would also cast spells of toughness on them as well, for the rocks in the Black Land were sharper than obsidian and could cut through ordinary leather like a hot knife through butter.

Thus I spent the better part of the night polishing and strengthening boots instead of making love, and I wished Malastein's balls would freeze off, since it was his fault I was doing this.