Loki Read Online Free Page B

wiser, but also sadder and more brooding. For not only had he learned all, he had also seen his death and the death of all the gods at Ragnarok. It was with a heavy heart that he bore this burden, full with the realization that this fate could not be changed. And so Odin returned to Asgard to ponder the future he could see but not avoid . . .

 
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    The present was hazy, sometimes more so than the past or even the future. Odin could see a wall of giants descending on Asgard, marching across Bifrost, the bridge shattering underneath their collective weight. It was a mass of chaos intent upon nothing more than the destruction of Asgard and any who resided there, and it was an irresistible tide that could not be halted.
    And then the image was gone.
    Instead, there was a lone traveler with a large draft horse in tow, steadily crossing Bifrost with a beltful of masonry tools. He would have an offer for them soon, an offer that they would accept. Or had they already accepted it? It was unclear. Odin could see, however, that the mason was not what he appeared to be, but the rest was vague and shadowy. For a brief second there was an image of destruction and horrific violence so intense that it sent a bludgeoning pain through his body But it was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving him to stare blankly at the empty council hall of Gladsheim.
    Heimdall’s messenger came meekly into Odin’s presence. The Allfather had seen him enter through the front doors after telling his servants that he had an urgent message from Heimdall. They let him in quickly, and the old man, Edil, who Odin had known for decades as Heimdall’s most trusted servant approached him with a message that he had known would come ever since he first plucked an eye out all those years ago.
    “ Allfather, I have an urgent message from my lord Heimdall.” Edil lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head at Odin’s foot. He could see visible shaking while the man knelt in terrified supplication.
    “ Speak it.”
    Edil would not raise his head to meet the gaze of Odin’s one eye.
    “ Allfather, Heimdall sends word that . . .”
    Odin’s attention drifted. He was there in his hall, but at the same time elsewhere, too. He saw a snake plucked from its nest by one with a fair face and the air of sorcery about him. He saw the mystic runes carved into the air as the creature changed. The fair-faced one—Frey, he realized—disappeared with the snake into a cave.
    The image shifted, and he saw the rustling waters of a narrow, cold stream. They hunted for a fish, one that was not a fish. It weaved its way into the depths of the stream. The fish was wily and small, able to be grasped in one hand. A net was thrown over one end, its weights dropping down to the bottom of the stream while two gods—Thor? Frey?—he could not see it clearly—waded in and stomped forward, pushing their prey closer and closer to the net while another perched over it. The fish, unable to see an escape through the legs of the Aesir, made a last, desperate leap, only to be grabbed in mid-air. It writhed and wriggled to be free, but to no avail.
    “ . . . a lone mason has offered to . . .”
    The scene shifted again. He stood in the hall of a one-handed god. A wolf as large as a horse was being wrestled to the ground. The image was dark, and the faces were not clear, but it looked as though Tyr was there. The wolf struggled, but he was already partially bound by a silver rope. The rope was being wrapped around paws and body, but the wolf's muzzle was yet free. The powerful jaws lashed out and clamped down tightly. There was a howl of pain and a final image of a bloody arm clutched tightly.
    He returned to the present. An old servant—Edil, he thought—knelt before him, waiting for some sort of response.
    “ Allfather?” His voice shook with fear.
    He looked down at the quivering servant. It was always thus when those who were not Aesir approached him. Few could