(Narvi)
What was the point of trying to sleep when all I ever dreamt was the same empty white room I did at home, only worse? Instead of standing on my own in a void, monsters screamed and growled in all directions, plotting to destroy all that was good in the universe. And what was the point in sharing these things with Vali, or with Father, or with Mum, when none of them would believe me?
Vali said he was growing tired of following Modi around every day, but he never suggested any better ideas. I thought getting closer to Modi would make his father seem less terrifying; even though Thor smiled at us whenever we met, I couldn't shake the feeling that his kind face was a mask. No one that huge was harmless.
Vali was even more afraid of him than I was and squeezed my hand whenever Thor was close. I took all the flutters from his stomach whenever I could. He was the strong one between us, after all. Other than Thor, I don't think Vali feared much of anything.
Mum and Father were worse for wear. They pretended to be fine—excited, even, to be in Asgard—but I felt their fear the same way. Mum swept hair off my forehead, and I felt it. Father grazed my hand at the supper table, and I felt it. Every touch surged through me like a wave of emotion overflowing from their own reserves. After the first few days, I found myself pulling on the long sleeves of my new black tunic and hiding my hands as if I was cold. If they didn't touch me, I could pretend things were fine alongside them.
Mum made sure Vali and I were together constantly, and I wanted to be alone for the first time in my life. Solitude wasn't the same as loneliness, and I craved silence. Peace. A chance to find answers for the thousands of questions that continued to grow every day as I eavesdropped on anyone in range. It was almost a good thing that Modi's lessons and routines weren't interesting to me; the people around him were a different story, and listening to them helped me understand why we'd been brought to Asgard in the first place.
Some talked about safety—a shelter under the palace would hold any refugees from the other realms. Refugees from what, I still wasn't certain, but I had no doubt it would be obvious soon enough. Whispers of what was to come...whispers of something the adults called Ragnarok...it was why they were afraid. All of them. Every adult in the palace had the same distant emptiness in their eyes whenever they thought no one else was watching. They disconnected from reality to survive their thoughts and fears of the future.
But...what was in the future? War? Sickness? Monsters? It seemed a combination of them all, nonspecific as a whole. Just that word. Ragnarok. Mum refused to define it and always said, "Later, my loves. Don't worry your innocent mind and heart over something none of us can control."
Everywhere we went, I felt fear, but no one could take mine from me the way I seemed to absorb it from everyone else. I needed some kind of distraction.
Modi's secret library was exactly what I was hoping for.
After Vali claimed the black one about Frost Giants, I hoped to find something to help Mum relax—anything that we might read together. Since being in Asgard, our nightly routine of shared books hadn't happened; it was as good a reason as any to think it was why I had so much trouble sleeping.
"The biggest snake anyone's ever seen? Really?" I asked while staying on the floor as Modi climbed a golden ladder to reach higher shelves.
"Oh, yes. There's a legend about it up here." He waved me to join him. "You can help me look. The ladder will hold."
I shook my head. Heights always bothered me. "No, I'm alright. I don't know what I'm looking for anyway."
He'd already said I was a baby to Vali because the other book frightened me, but that didn't stop him from muttering it under his breath again. I hated that Modi called me a baby. I wasn't a baby. I just wasn't like him. I didn't like fighting. I didn't like wrestling. I didn't like heights or competing over nothing. I liked learning magic. I liked reading with Mum. Just because he didn't know what happened to his wasn't my fault.
Vali bumped my shoulder when Modi was distracted. "Isn't this wonderful?"
I nodded, happy he wasn't trying to hurry us out.
"Father's going to love this. I can feel it." Vali held the black book against his chest. It nearly covered his whole torso.
"Ah!" Modi crept backward down the ladder while carrying a green book with golden vines curling up the spine—appropriate for a book about a serpent. "If this isn't enough of a snake for you, you'll have to write it yourself."
I took it greedily, but disappointment made my stomach sink when I looked at the title. "I can't read this. I can't read a lot of the things in here. What language is it?"
Vali chuckled and threw his head back. "Thank Gods. I thought it was just me."
"You don't know it?" Modi raised a brow and gave a smug scoff. "The old tongue, Grandfather says. I'm fluent in it. Alas...the pictures are what you really want anyway."
He wasn't wrong—the book he showed us in Vali's hands was special because it came to life. If this one did the same, that would suffice. I did my best to show gratitude and keep him from deeming me unworthy of taking it. "Yes...the pictures are enough. Thank you."
Vali compared the size of his book to mine—his was still much larger, but that made little difference to me. Before we could open it at all, the old woman who tended to Modi after lessons every day barked to him from the hall. "Modi Thorsson, show yourself."
"Hide!" he hissed, quickly vanishing into one of the curtain bundles.
Vali shoved his book into my hands, thinking faster than I could. "The other curtain. Go."
"But—"
"Do it, Narvi." He pushed me, not hard enough to make me fall, but I had a head start and lurched for the window, wishing there was enough space for both of us.
"I know someone's in here. Modi?" Sourness laced her voice that I could taste in the long ends of her words and the rattle in her throat. "For Gods' sakes, child, didn't your father say this was no place for you?"
I tried to will my body to freeze and stay still, but my hands trembled over the bindings of the books. They were heavy. Burdensome. But I couldn't let them go now, or the movement would give me away.
Back home, I didn't fear getting in trouble much. Against the smooth wall of the hidden library, I shut my eyes and hoped to see the white room of my dreams and be transported back to the bed I barely slept in. Back to our home with Tiwaz. Back to the boring archery field. Anywhere but here.
"Ah-ha! You," the woman snarled, and squeaking feet on the floor made my breath catch. "What are you doing in here?"
His voice turned me solid. "I...I got lost," Vali said. "I'm l-looking for—"
"I don't care what you're looking for. You're not allowed in this place. No one but the Allfather may study in here. What were you thinking?"
Vali was better at hiding than me. Always three steps ahead. Had he been caught on purpose?
Before he could answer, the woman grew louder, moving back and forth in front of the curtains. "The light hurts the books. Could destroy every one of them if they're not protected. Is that your aim, hmm? To wipe out Asgard's history?"
"I...what? No, ma'am..."
"Oh, that would be exactly what your plan is. I would expect nothing less of a Lokison."
Vali was silent, though I smelled the heat of his anger. The spice that made my nose itch. I fought back a sneeze. I bet he turned red; bet he clenched his fists and wished to scream right back at her. I imagined he thought the same thing I did: What's that supposed to mean?
"Where's the other one? You're always together. Spit it out."
In true form, for our sakes, Vali took the hit. "N-Narvi's with Modi. They're down by the bow field. It's time for his lesson, isn't it?"
The old woman grumbled. "I just came from there. Why do you think I'm here?"
"They might be looking for me, now." Vali quieted his voice and spoke slowly—the same way he did when he needed to charm Mum to get what he wanted. "I didn't know the light would hurt the books. I'll close the curtains and go with you to find them. Please?"
"Very well. Be quick with it."
Vali must've unlatched the bundle where Modi was first since a draft flowed over my feet from the movement. When he reached me, he whispered, "Hide the books and meet me." With that, the many folds of the fabric around me grew thin, spreading to my right until the window was closed and the room bathed in black. Luck alone kept Modi and myself hidden behind what thin covering remained.
"You'd better hope those boys are where you say they are." The old woman snapped her fingers at Vali to get him to hurry faster, never once losing the bitter undertone of every word. "You are not to ever come back here again."
"Yes, ma'am," Vali said. His tongue was crossed if his fingers weren't. There was no way she could keep him out of this place, no matter the consequence.
The doors complained to a close, though I still didn't dare speak until Modi moved. He tugged at the curtain on his side, letting light creep over the floor again. "Psst...you still here?"
"Yes," I whispered, finally stepping out. "We should go."
He marched toward the doors with his head high—more than I ever saw him do when he was being asked for it. It was more than the pride I saw in Vali; this was smug. Superior. An inflation of his sense of self because everyone else was beneath him.
No. I shook my head quickly to knock such thoughts from my mind. He's a friend. A good person. A friend. No bad things.
Yet for all Vali did, Modi didn't notice, or he didn't care. "How stupid of Vali. Look at you—the baby could find a hiding spot and keep quiet, but not him?"
My head hurt from how hard my brow clenched. "I...beg your pardon?"
"He got caught. Thought he said he was a wolf. I've met wolves. He's as fierce as a fly." Modi picked up the pace. "Come on. That old maid will be yelling for me through this whole palace if we don't beat them down there. I know the shortcut."
As we left the room, I saw Modi in better light simply because we were in darkness. His heart had no glow. He was cradled in red. The fear that came off him was nothing like what I sensed from everyone else—his was selfish somehow. Isolated. Like his mind and heart lived in a box of mirrors, only ever caring about themselves. Everyone else was incidental.
Even Vali, who took all the blame without thinking. Knowing him, he was buying us time with a false injury.
Instead of telling myself that these new thoughts of Modi were poison from within, I put them in an invisible place with clear sides. Maybe he'd prove me wrong. Maybe his royal status meant he had to be arrogant. After all, who's to say what was or wasn't expected of him? Yet a snag continued to pull in my mind, unraveling what I thought I knew.
Maybe Modi wasn't a friend. Maybe Modi hoped to get us into trouble. Maybe Modi viewed others like he did the Frost Giants—a race of tall monsters all worthy of death.
