(SIGYN)

"Sit, sit!" Narvi wasn't usually so insistent on having my undivided attention; as he aged, he seemed to treasure independence and privacy. My tender child was always more likely to snuggle at my side than Loki's, though, and I wondered if his sudden interest in quality time was because he could sense the baby would claim every last drop herself for at least several months.

I groaned as I sat, grateful my body wasn't yet complaining with every movement like I recalled from my first pregnancy. "Now, what's this about needing my help? You're a better reader than the students at least two years ahead of you."

"It's not our tongue, Mum." He retrieved a book from under his covers and watched my face expectantly while presenting it. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Wow..." The cover was a work of art, covered in swirling vines and gold details. The color shifted in the light, constantly changing, like the leather of the binding was attached to a live creature. "I've never seen anything like this." As my fingertips traced the corners, a single word appeared in the center—fleeting, but easy to see. Orm. The old tongue, but the word stirred an old memory that hadn't visited in ages.

"Can we read it? Modi said it's about a snake."

"A snake, hmm? And does it come out and...eat you?" I goosed his side and tickled him until he squealed. It reminded me of when he was so much smaller—a sidekick to me, really—and before he became so sensitive to touch. I was grateful he still let me this close. "Have to be careful of loose snakes in here, it seems. He's right. This word here means snake in the common tongue, though some say it could be a lost word for dragon. Depends how it's used."

Narvi settled and chuckled against me, halfway hoping I would keep teasing him and halfway wanting to see what was inside. "Like the snake on your ring, right?"

"You've noticed my ring?" I held my left hand before both of us and admired the still vibrant green eyes. "Still as lovely today as when your father married me."

"Why do you like snakes, Mum?"

Like seeing the title of the book below, his question caught at the back of my throat. I coughed to clear my hesitance away and chose discretion. "Oh, I just think they're fascinating creatures, really. Now, shall we have a lesson on the old language?"

He nodded with enthusiastic bouncing. "Please. I want to read everything in Asgard's library, just like Modi."

"And someday you shall." I lightly stroked his hair—something he rarely allowed since it wasn't covered in clothing—then told myself to enjoy the moment as Loki advised since we would soon have no choice but to see war. Peace was precious. "Alright. Let's see what sort of snake awaits us in here."

I opened the cover, expecting little, but something filled the room straight from the pages. I tipped my head forward, unsure if my mind was playing a trick.

"What is it, Mum?"

"Is it...is it making a sound?" I leaned a little closer and was certain—though there was nothing but a rock wall topped in green grass on the page, it whispered like a far-off waterfall, hissing in the background. "Gods, it is."

"Modi said the books in Odin's library all move. They have a different kind of magic than we do." Narvi kicked his legs impatiently. "Maybe Father can teach it to us, too."

"Perhaps he can." I shook my head quickly and refocused on the story, turning another page. Runes filled the pages, and like the cover, they shined with their own personalities. "Let's see. Now, you must forgive me for not knowing the direct translation of some of these, though your father will surely know them all much better than I do."

"What does it say about the snake?" he asked, leaning over to scan for anything familiar to his young eyes.

"Actually, I don't see orm here anywhere. It's talking about a...a thief. They call him Jofleik, which means, 'Thief of Games' in the old tongue. He stole something that angered the gods before him."

"What did he steal?"

"I don't know, you have to let me keep reading, love!" I puffed my cheeks at him in jest and kept going.

The next page's illusion reinforced my growing unease. Clear at the center, with near-perfect likeness, Odin the Allfather presented himself. Only his name in runes, Woden, appeared at his side, though his hair flowed with an invisible wind. His eye was menacing, but familiar and accurate. Slightly younger than I ever recalled him.

"We've met him, yes?" Narvi pointed as if unsure.

"Of course. Don't you recognize him? He met us here the day we arrived."

"Modi's grandfather." He pulled his hand back and gazed at the figure for a moment. Pondering. Building a map in his mind of who was who and where they fit. He had every right to learn and to ask. If only he knew how harshly he cut me in half with his questions.

"Mum...do I have a grandfather?"

I wanted to answer, but what could I say that wouldn't invite more confusion? "Another time for that, love. Let's keep going."

"Alright." He turned the page this time and immediately hummed with concern. Odin's figure was weathered, angry, surrounded in a halo of red. His single eye was foreign and inflamed. As the light shifted, he appeared to give an order, and the silhouette of a prisoner before him was led away from the page in tears. All in his presence appeared frozen with fear.

I searched for more runes to translate. "I wonder what's happening here."

"He's angry," Narvi whispered. "What does this have to do with the thief?"

"It says the thief made Odin cruel. It was his fault that the innocent were punished. I don't recall anything like this from my own parent's stories, so I presume this is more a...a cautionary tale than a true event." I shrugged. "The lesson may be that hurting the innocent is an unforgivable offense."

"Mum?"

I found his green eyes and saw a flash of my father in the curve of his nose. "What is it?"

Narvi paused for a moment, reading me from within as he looked into me. "I won't ever hurt anyone. If you got hurt, I would heal you."

"What wonderful magic kindness is, hmm?" I smiled, relaxing and trusting his youthful wisdom. "I would do the same for you. For Vali, too. All of us."

He blinked a few times and refocused below, turning the parchment in silence.

The Allfather appeared again, but this time he had a kinder expression, one I thought was more accurate to his real character. Before him was a man on his knees, turned away from us, kneeling with his arms stretched out on either side by formidable guards. "The thief's been caught, it seems. Not a very scary villain here, is he?" I pointed at the prisoner's waifish arms, though I quickly moved along once I noticed the movement shown in this scene was the sudden appearance of whiplashes over his back.

The following runes were broken out in predictable patterns, like a poem or song. Repetition was evident.

Narvi's small hand slapped next to the writing. "Modi taught me the song!"

"It's a song? Truly? Hum it for me, and I'll try to learn the words."

He took a deep breath as he started, serenading me like I'd always dreamed to be. I fantasized what he might be like fully grown, asking me to dance at his binding ceremony, singing along with me to lullabies that we'd continue to share for generations. What kind of a person would he become, and who would he choose?

The words below grounded me in the present. "Jofleik...that one's Leik again. It's about the thief, surely. The next one rhymes, Lich. Dead. It's about his death. Then—"

I paused, squinting to be sure it was real. Lokke. Familiar, yet unfamiliar. Not a word I knew for certain, though I knew what came to mind. Coincidence?

"Sorry," I said when Narvi stopped humming because I went quiet. "This could be a third rhyme. Perhaps said like lock-ee, though I'm not sure. Lok is the same word we use it for. Lock and key. Maybe before he dies, he's imprisoned."

"Modi sang it, Leik, Lich, Lokke." He didn't wait for me to make more sense of it and moved ahead. "Here it comes!"

Across the pages was a creature, slithering in an infinite loop, and the waterfall from the first page roared again, much louder than before. But it was the scales that stole my breath. A pattern that was far too distinct to be mistaken. My heart pounded in my ears, which flushed with heat, and an uncomfortable rush of my chest made me dizzy.

"They're gonna take him to the snake now, Mum," Narvi said, but he was far away.

I clutched the sides of the book to keep him from turning the page again. Leik. Lich. Lokke. My ring and the story had something in common. The three words played again in my mind with Narvi's voice. Leik. Lich. Lokke. It isn't a word. The Orm. Oh, Frigga...it's a name.

A commotion in the next room broke my concentration just enough to bring me back to the chamber and away from the cliffside. Vali let out a frustrated cry that wasn't fully audible at first, startling both Narvi and myself.

"What was that?" Narvi asked, but Vali answered with his own horror.

"Destroy the Frost Giants!" he yelled.

I gasped and slammed the book shut. "You are not to touch this ever again."

So much upset from the other room wasn't much of a surprise. It didn't take me back when Vali rushed into me with an apologetic frown. I wasn't alarmed by the quick thrust of Loki's arm across the table, flinging a large black volume to the floor along with his many rolled maps; clearly Vali brought something that he shared with Loki, too. Narvi's tears behind me for feeling admonished because of my reaction could've been predicted. Even the altogether sickening sense of feeling caught was expected.

I missed how life felt ten minutes before—when we weren't fugitive enemies to the throne. We were simply a family, a Vanir tribe of four, settling in for our evening in peace. Now Loki and I saw each other clearly: I was the true Asgardian bound to the Jotun ex-prince. Outcasts. Pariahs. Unwelcome.

All this trouble from only two books...that was what I hadn't bargained for.