Chapter 20

As soon as he appeared at the other side he transformed into a horsefly and darted straight to the ceiling.

The residual energy of the platform gave a faint and unnatural luminescence to the silent and empty room. Loki waited some minutes to see if the platform's energy had been detected, but seeing that no one seemed to have noticed, he flew to the floor and returned to his normal form.

With a faint creaking sound, the door opened to an empty corridor. He transformed again into a horsefly and darted into the Palace's halls.

Contrary to popular belief and the expectations of his tutors, Loki retained both his personality and his intelligence each time he changed form. Of course, he never told anyone about it, especially his tutors.

Loki had to twist and turn several times to access the main halls which connected all the sections in that lower level. He wasn't entirely surprised to see Svartálfar soldiers patrolling the halls, but he was a bit worried to see other insects wandering around.

His worry turned to alarm when he noticed the amount of flies growing as he advanced; not only that, but they were all as if in a frenzy, constantly repeating the same simple concepts about food and about "nesting". It was something that happened in battlefields, when recovering the fallen took too long, something Loki had been used to. But not at the Palace.

He landed on a wall after a while, almost unable to keep flying. His right arm hadn't healed completely and it hurt. Plus there was the constant and ever more intense smell of food in the air, which made Loki think of the larders at the kitchen being open and ransacked, with the flies having a free and abundant source of food and a place where to lay their eggs. Thor and Volstagg would surely throw a fit over the spoiled meat.

Then he remembered that the infirmary was near the training grounds, and decided that a small detour was necessary.

When he flew near the rooms with a view to the exterior, he saw plumes of smoke rising from several parts of the city; beyond them, small scouting ships patrolled the skies.

The training grounds had been destroyed, for what little he could see, along with an extensive part of the barracks, the infirmary and the armory. Loki flew over to what remained of the infirmary and, transforming into a squirrel, he slip into the wreckage on broken furniture and smashed crystals searching for any remaining healing stone.

What he hadn't remembered between transformations was that each animal had a different way to perceive their surroundings. The rich aromas he had sensed as a fly transformed into a hideous stench when he turned into a squirrel. He scurried towards the source of the smell to see that, outside, in the middle of what had been the training grounds, there was a giant pyre, the embers still burning. The remnants of servants, Einherjars and healers had been unceremoniously piled up and burnt, without rites, without honors, as if they had been plague-ridden vermin. Dark Elves took no prisoners.

There the flies swirled, danced and mated. There was a feast lain down for them in that pile of corpses, as they might have never seen before.

His small squirrel stomach churned; the stench made him gag and turn away, running as fast as he could towards the infirmary, where he rummaged among the wreckage to avoid all the broken glass, in places easy to access for a small creature, but he only found smashed phials and ruined stones. Just when he was about to give out any hope and go back to his scouting mission, he saw a red glint out of the corner of his eye. Squeezing under a broken bed frame, he found himself in a small crawling space where the bed as served as an accidental barricade against a wall. There, Loki found an overturned tray, laying in a puddle of liquid. Among the broken glass, there was one healing stone miraculously intact. Gingerly, he retired the tray, which fell to the floor with a faint clang, and tried to break the curative item, but his current body was too weak. He rolled it towards the wall and, holding to it, he reverted to his original form.

The space was smaller than he thought, and he saw himself squeezed in a fetal position, but the stone was still in his hand. Loki broke it in his left hand and let it act on his injured shoulder. He sighed, relieved, when the dull pain in his right side went away. Not loosing another moment, he went back to his horsefly shape and darted out of the crawling space, and out of the destroyed infirmary.

Now with his wound finally healed he could fly at full speed and scout the Palace.

He was no stranger to infiltration missions, and working inside their own home should have added some advantage. But this was not the case. The thrill Loki used to feel whenever he scouted enemy territories had been replaced by a mounting sense of anxiety that he had to work very hard to suppress.

The lifts were out of power and all the stairs were heavily guarded, rendering any direct approach a futile venture. He retraced his steps to a junction near the secret room and started tracing another route, this one leading to the kitchens. Through that route he found less Svartalfheim soldiers, but discovered there were Jötnar patrolling that area.

Unlike the infirmary, the food storage hadn't been completely destroyed, though it had been equally plundered, serving, as he had suspected, as another source of food for the flies. There was a secret entrance, cleverly disguised behind an unassuming cupboard in a corner, opening to a passage which led directly to the residential area of the Palace. Food was delivered through there on a daily basis, which made the trip to the private dinning hall for the Royal Family far quicker than through other means. The lift on that area would be out of power, but he hope the stairs were still practicable.

Loki's current form allowed him to inspect the door and confirm it hadn't been discovered yet. He was so absorbed in his task he didn't heard the booming voices of two Jötnar approaching the room.

"… starving us to death, these blasted pale faces, a fire upon them!" one was saying as they crossed the threshold.

"Hush! They might hear you."

The one who spoke first, who wielded an ice saber, spit on the ground.

"Blast them," he repeated, though in a lower voice. "Why did they hoard all the food and we have to scavenge for the crumbs? And why can't we just bomb the upper palace and be done with it? Those elves have the weapons to do it."

"The shield, remember?"

"'Course I remember! I'm not stupid, you know? I meant bomb just below the shield and let it all fall down, Allfather and everything. See if the shield stands after that."

The Jötunn chuckled with a low, cruel voice which made Loki desire to reveal himself and kill him on the spot. The second giant didn't find that comment as humorous either, and scowled as his companion searched the larder for whatever food was left while he guarded the door. They seemed to have absconded from their duty to eat a bite.

"That elf king wants the Allfather alive, so does His Majesty," the second Jötunn reminded his companion. "I know you have a grudge, but your beef is with that blonde prince. You can smash his face when he appears and His Majesty might decorate you."

"If he appears. The coward ran like a bat out of Muspelheim as soon as we appeared."

"Weren't there two princes?"

The first giant laughed again.

"One would think that, but I wouldn't call that flimsy, spell-weaving kitten a prince."

"You fell down the cliff chasing one of his illusions," when his companion threw him a dirty glance, he changed the subject. "What I was wondering is that we haven't seen nor heard from him."

The other kept busying himself rummaging among the broken casks of mead, but he stopped for a moment to grunt.

"Yeah, maybe we should have interrogated all those servants. Not that it would have done any good, thought. Asgardians are too stubborn to live."

"There's always that one who caves in," the second Jötunn mused, scratching his chin, his formerly conciliatory tone shifting to a more sinister one. "Just find their children and you will have the key, and when they spill the secrets do the little piglets in anyway."

"No luck with that, little runts scurry away like rats. Damn elves, they took all the good drinks and all the salted meat," the giant with the saber kept grunting as he rummaged in the larder. "You think is to fatten that Malekith? I'd say he would need the drinks, poor fella must chug only vinegar by the scowl on that face."

His companion didn't answer to that and the Jötunn chuckled.

"You worry too much about them hearing our gossiping. They have only learned a few words to order us around, and that's it. You can tell them you will piss on their mother's grave and they'll be none the wiser."

Still, his companion didn't say a word. That silence annoyed the saber-wielding giant into trying to turn his head to shout at him. He felt something sharp pricking at the base of his skull and his hands stopped mid movement.

"We are going to talk," said a soft voice behind him. "And you are going to tell me everything I need to know."

The Jötunn heard words of magic too, and a sense of dread invaded him, then mounting terror as his whole body started shaking. His mind was filled with images of the whole room catching fire while he was trapped inside the larder, hanging upside down, hands and feet tied.

"The fire is coming," whispered the voice. "Unless you tell me."

The giant had forgotten why he had come to the kitchen in the first place, he had forgotten he had a companion, and even that he was crouched in the floor and not hanging from the ceiling. But the Voice told him that the fire would go away if he talked. The Voice was his friend and would keep the flames away. The Voice would save him.

"Ask… and I'll speak."

xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx

"Do you see anything?"

"No."

Thor frowned. It wasn't normal that his brother was taking so long in a scouting mission in familiar territory.

A fly pestered Hogun, who swatted at it with his hand before quietly closing the secret door.

"Great, the Palace is overrun with flies," Fandral murmured.

Volstagg squeezed his ax's handle until his knuckles turned white.

They were all back illuminated by the blue glowing of the platform. It had taken roughly an hour and a half to power up completely for their group to travel, but now they were stuck. Fandral had suggested them to advance quietly into the Palace, but Thor didn't want to risk putting the entire Svartalfheim army on high alert without knowing where his brother was.

Sif seemed to want to say something, but thought better of it and instead she put a hand on Volstagg's arm.

"How long do we wait?" she finally asked.

"As long as it takes," Thor said, arms crossed in a pensive attitude.

"He was wounded," Volstagg pointed out. When his companions looked up at him, he looked concerned. "I thought you had noticed. His right arm hadn't healed yet and he tried using it as little as possible."

"Why would he offer, then?" Hogun wondered.

"I might have an idea."

They all looked up at Sif, who had spoken.

"What if he…?" she paused for a moment, as if thinking twice about what he was going to say. "What if there is duplicity in him?"

Thor looked at her in silence. Far from backing down, she elaborated.

"He set you up to ruin your great day," Sif continued. "Jötnar soldiers appeared at the Vault. Neither Heimdall's all-seeing eyes, nor Huginn or Muninn could detect them."

The Warriors Three frowned at that suggestion at first but, each one in turn, it all seemed to dawn on them, yet no one said a word.

Neither did Thor at first, but when he did, his voice was low and calm.

"I will not deny my brother's mischief at the Coronation Day," he said slowly. "However, the invasion happened while my brother was exiled on Midgard, his powers sealed away, with no means to contact anyone outside that realm."

He approached Sif and, while he made no menacing display, and the woman didn't step back, nor averted her eyes, there was a change in her expression.

"What you suggest is treason of the highest level, and I won't allow such words to be uttered in my presence, either against my brother, nor against any of my closest allies, and that includes you, Lady Sif. Twice you have doubted him, I won't let distrust create a rift between us a third time. If you can't find in your heart to trust Loki, have faith in me when I say his heart is true. Isn't my word enough for you?"

She looked shaken, as if the words "Lady Sif" had deeply wounded her, yet she quickly recovered and proudly straightened her back.

"He's probably skulking in the shadows," said Fandral with a smile, trying to ease the tension. "He might have felled some enemies on the way."

"Not quite, but also yes," said a voice from a corner.

All except Thor drew their weapons, though they relaxed as Loki stepped into the blue glow of the platform.

"How long have you been there?" Volstagg exclaimed.

"It was the fly," Hogun revealed with a hint of tiredness in his voice. I hated being fooled by Loki's illusions, and the Younger Prince knew it.

Thor didn't want to lose any more time, and interrogated his brother about the state of the Palace. As Loki summed up what he had seen and heard, their faces became more grim.

According to the Jötunn, the shield had shrunk considerably, but still covered the private quarters.

"Not everything is lost," Loki encouraged them. "If we can get to the kitchens we might be able to access our quarters. You know we can trespass it."

"Another stealth mission?" Fandral smiled.

"As much as we can," said Thor. "It's not our first time doing this. Let's go."

They snuck out of the room, closing the door behind, and skulked through the halls until they reached the ones being patrolled.

The first one they killed silently and dragged the bodies out of the way, but they wouldn't have that advantage anymore, so they would have to rely also in swiftness before the corpses were discovered and the alarm sound.

As they advanced through the halls, swiftly yet silently, they encountered more patrols that they dispatched with more or less ease, using stealth and illusions in equal part. At Loki's suggestion, from the last patrol they encountered near the kitchens, they dragged the two soldiers all the way to their destination. Neither knew what he could be planning, but upon seeing the two Jötnar corpses, Fandral and Hogun started at once to arrange them all as if a ferocious fight had happened between them and the Dark Elves.

They could hear voices and hurried steps near them; Thor hurried his companions through the secret door. When he closed it behind them, they could hear the Svartálfar soldiers entering the room and suddenly falling silent. Alliances could be as brittle as dried leaves, especially those established among races who despised each other, yet joined forces against a common enemy.

Not wishing to linger there for too long, and before the Svartálfar keened their ears after the initial surprise, Thor and his allies had already scurried away through the secret stair.

And as secret as it was, it was wide and well lit to make the coming and going of servants swift and easy. It ran straight to the residential levels, where a door opened for each one, until they arrived at the top level, where the Royal quarters and the private dinning hall were.

Volstagg had never been a friend of stairs, and each time they had seen themselves in a similar situation, he had voiced his displeasure at every opportunity, loudly and clearly, and afterwards he had claimed that the exertion had cost him a good deal of his good-looking figure, and that he had to eat double the accustomed quantity not to displease his beloved wife. Not this time, however. His friends noticed the change and exchanged silent glances, but none said a thing as Volstagg pressed forward with grim determination.

Their hope, however, was cut short when they saw the stairs ending in a cave-in before they could have seen the barrier or a door.

Sif put her hear to the wall and listened. They saw her closing her eyes and waiting, then move to a point further down and a few seconds later move again in the same direction. She knocked softly on the wall once in one place, and again in another. Seemingly satisfied, she opened her eyes and smiled.

"We could open a door here," she offered.

"Wouldn't the ruckus attract more guards?" Fandral wondered.

"Probably, and that's why we should have a plan. It's either that or go back down and try our luck through all the heavily guarded floors."

"I could do something about that," said Loki.

They discussed the plan, which involved Loki casting an illusion over the entire group to make them look as Dark Elves. Then Volstagg and Hogun would tear down the wall as quickly as possible and they would be out. Fandral, who hadn't spoken until that moment, shook his head, calling the plan a ludicrous one and pointing out all the possible things that could go wrong.

"What if they see us? What if they ask us anything? We don't understand their language and we won't know which floor we will be when we get out."

"We will know," Sif said. "You know I'm not a friend of nonsensical plans, but I counted the steps each floor occupies and then counted the floors we have been ascending and I know we are two floors below the residential floors. Besides, this area doesn't hold any strategic interest and the Palace will be probably in high alert with the chaos we created in the first floor."

Thor eyed her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. Lady Sif had always striven to emulate her friends' way of fighting, which was mostly rushing into combat and plan as events unfolded. There was a strategic mind in her that she rarely displayed with them, and the prince couldn't fathom why.

"That is, of course," Sif continued, her cheeks subtly reddening when she noticed Thor's eyes on her. "If my assumptions are right and we are extremely lucky."

"We don't have time to lose," Loki urged. "This is the best chance we have before they regroup."

Saying this, he put his hand against the wall, right were Sif had pointed them out and muttered some words. The temperature around him dropped suddenly and they could see frost quickly spreading from his hand and covering the wall. When it had reached a considerable size, he retired his hand and faced them, he extended his arms towards them and chanted another spell. They didn't feel anything about themselves, but looking at their companions, each saw how the others' images blurred and shifted like in a rippling pond, and when the effect passed they looked like full armored Svartalfheim soldiers.

Of course, not everyone looked the same, and their initial body size affected the outcome. In this manner there was a very tall and strong Dark Elf, a very sturdy-looking one, three that looked an ordinary soldier and one who looked specially graceful.

"Why do I have to be the scrawny one?" Sif protested.

"Initial body mass, not counting vestments," Loki repeated the theory of the spell with the same patience one would use when reading the small print on a contract to another person. "I can make you look bigger, if that's what you desire, but try not to bump into anything or it will trespass the illusion."

As Hogun and Volstagg broke the wall with their weapons, Loki made the small adjustments that Sif had asked, and now she looked like an average Dark Elf.

Thor was the first one to look outside and signaled them to follow him. Instead of taking the path to the main staircase, they decided to use one of the service stairs and pray it hadn't been blocked. The corridors were deserted but not undisturbed; as they marched on towards their destination, they saw burnt marks on the walls and floor and broken tiles here and there. As they had predicted, the Dark Elves were in high alert; they could hear in the distance groups of soldiers running to and fro and captains shouting orders. Twice they crossed paths with patrols on their way to the stairs, the first time Thor nodded to their captain as they rushed by, the second time, however, the patrol's captain stopped them and inquired about something. The line of questioning was unmistakable, since they were walking in the opposite direction everyone was running towards.

The Prince tried to communicate with signs that they were going towards the stairs, but the further he gesticulated, the more irate the Dark Elf seemed, and the more suspicious his five subordinates grew. Since this had already happened in the past, as soon as they had been stopped, Loki and Sif took defensive positions at each side of Thor, while Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg slowly formed a barrier to prevent the elves from escaping.

The first blow came from the Dark Elf captain, which Thor blocked with ease, but the contact made the illusion of the disguise spell ripple like disturbed water and disappear, revealing Thor with Mjolnir in his hand; in an instant, the other Dark Elves brandished their weapons and readied to shoot, but Loki had a spell already prepared: a burst of blue energy sprouted from his hand and hit one of the elves, freezing the weapon and jamming it. Sif threw a knife, which hit another in the shoulder, making him shoot at the ceiling, while Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg, using the diversion of their two companions, jumped on the other elves and engaged them in combat.

While Thor wrestled the captain, Loki and Sif drew their weapons and jumped on their opponents. They had to finish that scuffle as quickly as possible, lest more guards appeared down the corridor.

Loki found that the Svartalfheim armor had little to no opening and was harder than he expected. The elf punched him in the ribs, but he used the opening to grab the back of his head with the opposite hand and slam it against a wall. As the elf's head hit the stone, Loki conjured an ice knife and a shard materialized on the palm of his hand so quickly it became instantly embedded in the skull with a sickening cracking sound. He let the elf fall to the ground and turned around: Volstagg had dealt with his rival and was helping Fandral, while Thor had electrocuted the captain and crushed his skull, rushing next to help Sif, but the Lady had just slit her rival's throat with a swift movement. Hogun had sustained a burn on his arm when his opponent tried to fire at him, but the Grim had crushed the elf's weapon with his mace; quick as a snake, the elf unsheathed his blade but Hogun had been prepared and, instead of stopping the mace and changing his stance after the first blow, he used the momentum to trace a full circle and bring the mace to the elf's side, hitting him in the elbow. The rest of the fight had been as quick as those of his companions.

"We must hurry!" Thor urged when all their enemies were dealt with. There were no rooms near and no time to drag all the corpses out of view.

With a mixture of ice knifes and frost touch, Loki arranged all the corpses to make it look as if they had been fighting Jötnar.

This time they ran down the hall, their disguises ruined. A small patrol tried to cut their path, but Thor and Volstagg charged at them, ramming them against the walls as they continued their flight. Loki turned around for a second and froze the floor behind them to try and slow their pursuers down.

They turned a corner at an intersection and they could see it straight ahead: There was a wide landing that opened to three corridors, and the stairs were guarded only by two soldiers.

"Twin snakes!" Loki heard Thor yelling.

Sidestepping, he fell slightly behind and at his brother's side, throwing two steel daggers at the dark elves. At that moment, Thor released a lightning bolt which charged the weapons; one hit a guard in the neck felling him, the other bounced on the other's mask, merely knocking his head back; that soldier sounded the alarm and fired at the assailants. Sif deflected the shot with her shield; the momentum nearly threw her backwards, but she caught her footing with ease and kept charging.

Fandral was the first one to reach the elf; his rapier nearly found it's mark, but the soldier had unsheathed his own blade and parried his attack. Fandral kept attacking as his friends saw more soldiers appearing around the corridors leading to the stairs. The elves advanced slowly, their weapons trained at them and shooting. On one side, Thor spun his hammer to create a shield, but he could only cover so much at a given time. Volstagg rammed his ax on the guard Fandral was fighting against and knocked the elf over. Meanwhile, guards from downstairs and upstairs were already upon them.

Loki heard his brother yelling his name; he extended his hands and a thick fog enveloped them, flooding the entire landing and the stairs below.

"Thor!" he yelled. "Charge it!"

Thor stopped his hammer, lest he would disperse the fog and, before running up the stairs, he extended Mjolnir and conjured a lightning bolt. The energy mixed with the fog and the Svartalfheim, though still able to see through the mist, found themselves trapped inside a storm cloud.

Climbing, they found another troop waiting for them in the next floor. Their objective wasn't to win that fight, but to keep advancing. Thor, Volstagg and Hogun served as barrier while the others kept climbing, as more soldiers arrived at the landing, and some had been able to cross the electric field below; Loki sung an enchantment as his hands made a twisting motion towards the ceiling, a cloud formed above the Dark Elves, and from that cloud it fell a heavy sleet, freezing the ground below them. Volstagg swung back at his opponent and the elf slipped on the now icy floor, falling on his back. Thor and Hogun both kicked at their own rivals, who likewise slipped on the ice, knocking back their companions as they fell; the friends used the confusion to keep running and dodging astray shots.

The barrier was near, just another turn on the small landing, and Loki heard a grunt near him. Thor had been hit on his leg and had tripped. With an exclamation, Sif turned on her steps and grabbed the Prince by one arm; quickly, Loki grabbed the other and they dragged Thor away from danger.

Golden particles enveloped them as they crossed the energy field and fell to the ground, the Dark Elves in hot pursuit but, upon seeing them at the other side, they stopped on their tracks.

Volstagg was the first one to notice, so did the other friends soon enough: The Svartálfar didn't show any sign of frustration, no word that would indicate any distress. They simply stared at them and, slowly and in silence, they went from whence they had come.

"Like patient wolves," Fandral pointed out. "Just waiting for their prey to tire out."

"They will have another think coming," Thor grunted as he leaned on Sif and Loki. "Come on, our arrival is long overdue."