Chapter 7
Oh, for the love of Odin, I complained bitterly in my head, if only that winged helmet of Thor's could actually fly! I would have brought that along!
My legs were starting to burn. A dull ache persisted in my ribs, which I supposed were bruised, and however much I wanted to stop running and make the pain go away, I had to continue going. While I ran, I put my hand up to my forehead. The blood had dried. Good.
I was mainly sticking to forests, fields; really, anywhere where there weren't people. I didn't want them to call whatever authorities they had here on Earth.
A sudden thought burst in my head and I groaned. Linda Gerard was my mother. Damien was my half-brother. By some stroke of luck—or fate—I had been on my own relations' doorstep the night I appeared here on Earth! And because of that, Loki found them! My appearance had forced the Gerards to run. And only Thor himself knew what chaos my disappearance from Asgard had caused.
At this point, I wasn't sure whether I was running to meet destiny or running away from it.
Just then I caught sight of the Gerards' car and summoned as much power as I could out of my staff, draining it. Until I could get back to Asgard, it was now no more than a weapon. But at least I had a weapon.
The rush of temporary speed sent me hurtling toward the car. Loki was sure to appear soon—I didn't have much time.
I put the tip of my staff on the ground and, using it to stabilize myself, vaulted toward the car. I landed a bit less lithely than I would have liked, but I was on the top of the car. It swerved, making me grab one of the edges with my right hand and hold on as best as I could.
The car pulled over to the side of the rock path and Mrs. Gerard and Damien exited it.
"Dawn?" they asked incredulously.
"My father is coming for you and I have no time to explain. You have to go on foot from here," I said quickly.
"But…" Damien started to say. I put the end of my staff on his chest and shoved slightly. He stumbled backward, his face full of confusion. Mrs. Gerard's expression mimicked his.
"Just leave, for Odin's sake!" I exclaimed, herding the two with my staff. They started to run through the field.
I stood on top of the car and tried to slow my breathing and heartbeat.
Then there were two puffs of green smoke.
Two.
And then two figures stood in front of the car.
Loki smirked at me as he took in the empty car. But his companion froze me for a moment.
The man looked a lot like Loki, only taller, more broad-shouldered, and younger. Most likely just a few years older than myself. His skin was even paler than Loki's—almost pure white—and combined with his long raven-black hair, he looked haunted. Handsome, maybe more than handsome, but haunted. Strapped to his back were two long silver swords, and he wore black and silver attire.
"Miett," Loki spoke, noticing my fixation with his companion, "this is Taroc, my protégé. Taroc, meet my daughter."
Taroc nodded his head, eyes fixed on mine, and it was then that I perceived that his irises were black. He stood motionless, not even appearing to breathe, as he waited for his master to move.
"Daughter, I don't want to have to waste time with you right now. Linda and her son know too much." Loki sighed. "I realize that this might not be the right way, but it is the best way."
"People know of you anyway," I said unkindly. "Thor informed me of the 'Avengers' warrior group he was in for a time here on Earth. So why would you need to dispose of the two humans?"
"Because they are annoying," Loki smiled without emotion. "Perhaps I loved Linda once, but it is past and I cannot have her come between you and me. You are my heir, after all."
"Your heir?" I laughed throatily. "Isn't he your heir?" I pointed at Taroc with my staff.
"No, I have planned for him to be your consort." Loki started to inspect his fingernails.
I gaped. "As in…you want me to marry him?"
"That is the plan. He's Asgardian, but I don't particularly care about that. Now if you would be so kind as to come with me…"
"The heck I will," I hissed between gritted teeth, leaping off the car and circling warily.
I twirled my staff, and Loki backed off a few paces, still calmly picking at his nails. He motioned with a slight wave of his hand for Taroc to move toward me.
Taroc drew his swords with an almost-imperceptible ring and advanced, swords crossed but lowered.
I struck fearlessly. I was not afraid of this pawn of Loki's. Taroc kept his face emotionless, raising up one sword and stopping my staff effortlessly.
"Future consort, eh?" I swept my staff at his legs. He merely sidestepped the blow. "Got any romantic words for your bride-to-be?"
Taroc did not speak.
"I trained him not to talk," Loki said casually. "I find talk extremely bothersome unless, of course, it is I who am speaking."
"You must be so proud," I sarcastically said to Taroc. He assaulted me with very well-placed blows, which I all deflected, but I was already beginning to feel tired. My side hurt more than before, and my head was beginning to pain me.
Both of Taroc's swords hit my staff, and he pressed down. I struggled to keep my staff up. By the gods, he was strong! The only other person I knew of who had that kind of strength was Thor, but Taroc was much less burly than Thor.
"You're an excellent warrior," Loki commented. "Who trained you? Lady Sif? Your adopted mother? Perhaps even Thor himself? Although I can't see him stooping down from his pride long enough to do that."
I knew that he was trying to distract me. I ignored him and forced all of my strength toward pushing Taroc away. It worked, and I spun away from him.
A snap decision forced me into action. I flung myself at Loki.
Everything faded into slow motion.
Taroc flew through the air to intercept me.
My staff hit Loki across the jaw.
The fiend's head snapped backward and he fell.
I was tackled to the ground by Taroc.
Everything went back to normal.
Taroc was almost sitting on me, one sword back in its sheath and the other at my throat. I gasped for air but tried not to move too much. The metal was already biting into my skin.
Loki was rubbing his jaw as he stood. "Oh my." He winced as he spoke. "That was a good blow."
"Thank you," I said mock-politely. "Will you kill me now?"
He seemed to consider the idea before answering. "No, I don't think I will. Not at the moment. And for your excellent display of skills, I shall wait twenty-four hours until I dispose of the humans. Taroc, let's leave."
Taroc stood, sheathing his sword and moving to stand behind Loki.
I couldn't move yet. The wind had been knocked out of me.
Loki crouched beside me momentarily, touching my face. I wanted to knock his hand away. "You will learn to love me as your father, Miett. I am the best alternative you have. In truth, the only alternative."
He straightened and snapped his fingers. The pair disappeared in the green mist.
I gulped in air and leaned my head back.
Twenty-four hours. That was all I had.