Loki: Why I Began the End Read Online Free Page B

waiting for you,” Heimdall, the master of these ceremonies, told Fenrir, holding an unbroken set of fetters.
         Tyr took Fenrir’s arm, leading him away. “We’ve actually got all the equipment set up on the field. We were going to…”
         “Come on, Fenrir,” Thor insisted. “It took me five seconds. Won’t take you any longer.”
         With a grin, Fenrir approached and let himself be chained. When Heimdall waved his arm to begin, Fenrir burst out of the fetters almost immediately. After a slight moment of awe—or shock—the spectators applauded and cheered.
         And that wasn’t the end of it. The next day, they came with stronger fetters. And stronger the day after that. The reigning champion, Fenrir, would always be enlisted to go first, and though it took perhaps five seconds longer each attempt, he always shattered the fetters, and faster than anyone else. Still, I didn’t like it. It wasn’t a typical sort of contest, but rather seemed like a trap someone schemed up.
         The fifth day of contest, the fetters were markedly different than any others—they appeared to be mere silken threads woven together. Furthermore, these fetters were attached to the ground. Fenrir recognized my concern, feeling it as well.
         Heimdall held up the fetters to Fenrir. “Day Five, champion. Ready?”
         After a moment’s hesitation, Fenrir shook his head. “Not today.”
         “You’re dropping out? What, afraid you’ll lose?”
         Fenrir smiled wryly. “I have better things to do than entertaining you with paltry tricks.”
         Though it was lost to my son, I heard Tyr whisper, “That’s enough , okay?” to the Aesir.
         The goddess Freya took hold of the fetters, looking them over. “I bet I could break out of these.”
         Fenrir laughed. “I’m sure the whole of the Aesir would gather to watch you struggling with chains, my dear.”
         Freya set her jaw firm. “If you do it, I will.”
         Fenrir looked to Tyr. All the gathered Aesir looked to Tyr, waiting for his intervention. I was reminded of the same threatening glares that hounded me until I agreed to abduct Iduna—and I could see Tyr buckling under them. He pat Fenrir on the back, smiled, and said, “Show them how it’s done.”
         Fenrir stared warily at him. “I will, if you hold your hand between my jaws while I’m chained.”
         Tyr’s smile disappeared. Nonetheless, he replied, “Deal.”
         I stepped forward to rebut, but Freya had already clamped one of the cuffs onto his wrist. Together, she and Heimdall had him completely chained up—fetters on his wrists, his ankles, even one for his neck. He stood on all fours, as he always did when prying himself out, and Tyr set his trembling hand between his open jaws. Fenrir flexed and thrashed in the fetters, accomplishing nothing except for a rattling clash that struck my core with each flinch. Then the Aesir began to laugh. Now knowing he wouldn’t be getting out, Fenrir bit down on Tyr’s hand and tore it off, spitting the hand at Heimdall’s feet. The Aesir gathered around Tyr to administer to his injury, but he pushed them away and left to care for it himself.
         I tried what I could to break the fetters, even transforming into different creatures and beasts to use their strength and their claws. The only result was more laughter from the Aesir. Furious, I brushed them all aside and found Odin in his study chambers, demanding that Fenrir be released. He just looked up from his tome and said, “I can’t.”
         I took his book from him and threw it against the wall. “What do you mean you can’t?”
         “Those chains are indestructible. You know Fenrir to be stronger than I. If he can’t break them, how can you expect that—?”
         “Don’t play this with me, Odin. You can’t tell me that, with all the knowledge of the known universe at your