. They weren’t fighting the final battle, weren’t
calling the twilight into being.
As the last of Odin’s troop fell, Loki came riding up. His
horse that day was colored like those silly children’s horses, purple with a
white mane.
“Greetings, Val-Father,” Loki called as he gracefully slid
off his horse. He wore a skeletal mask made of black iron, the mouth twisted
into a chilling grin. His armor showed the glory of the battle, spattered with
blood and gore.
He looked like death come calling.
“Maybe I should call you that, this day,” Odin said, his
back stiffening. “Father of the slain.”
Loki shrugged. “We both have many slain today,” he pointed
out.
“True. But you have not as many as I,” Odin said formally.
“I will not ask for more acknowledgment than that,” Loki
said with a grin. “Though I would love to hear you eat more crow, calling me
the better warrior.”
“Never,” Odin said. “Even at the end of things, we both
fail.” Why was he thinking so much of the twilight? It wasn’t imminent. They
hadn’t had three winters without the sun, three summers of failing crops.
“We shall see,” Loki said. “When the time comes for the
world to renew itself, maybe we’ll both be left standing at the end.”
Odin shook his head. No, fate could not be changed. He’d be
swallowed by the great wolf, then avenged by his son, who would live on past
the twilight.
Sleipnir came up from behind Odin.
He pushed his soft snout against Odin’s shoulder, saying hello. Today, the
great eight-legged steed took on Loki’s colors, with a soot-black coat and
red-tinged hooves, his eyes as white as if covered by cataracts.
Was the great horse not happy to see his parent? Or did he
blind himself so he wouldn’t see the deeds Loki got up to while riding him?
Odin wouldn’t break this oath, however, and told Sleipnir , “Go with Loki. Do as he bids, for the next
fortnight.”
“Oh, I won’t actually need that long,” Loki said casually.
“I need only three days.”
“What do you intend to do?” Odin asked. Was he better off
not knowing?
“Going to visit my other children,” Loki admitted as Sleipnir nuzzled at his shoulder. “The great serpent. The
frost giants. Others.”
Was Loki trying to start the great war? To bring the giants
in to the fight? It was one of the signs.
Odin would have to consult with the other gods. See if they
knew what Loki was up to.
“Feel free to use my steed in exchange,” Loki said,
graciously calling the animal closer.
Odin shuddered. The horse stank of Loki’s witchcraft, of
blood and the musk of sex. “Your generosity knows no bounds,” Odin said dryly.
What was the trickster up to? Sleipnir bounded away even before the dead could be raised from the great field. They
would gather later in Loki’s hall, to carouse and drink and celebrate their
victory.
Tonight, there would be no celebrating in Odin’s hall. There
needed to be talk, and analysis, and strategies set instead.
Loki was up to something. Something not good. Something
worse than usual. Odin just knew it.
If only he could figure out what it was before it was too
late and the Twilight Battle had begun.
***
The VA hospital looked the same on the outside as it always
did: cold white walls four stories high, sterile, full of order . The flags out front were at half-mast, though Hunter
couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t. Too many died, all the time. The
concrete sidewalk looked brown and wet. It had been swept clean with military
precision, a gently curving ribbon cutting through the snow piled on either
side, leading to dark glass doors.
Hunter still stood on the sidewalk outside, examining the
building minutely, seeking changes. Was it safe? Or, at least, safe enough for
him to go in?
No snipers rested on the roof. No individuals lay patient
and buried under the snow, waiting to tackle him when he got close enough. No
guard hid behind the sharp corners of the
calling the twilight into being.
As the last of Odin’s troop fell, Loki came riding up. His
horse that day was colored like those silly children’s horses, purple with a
white mane.
“Greetings, Val-Father,” Loki called as he gracefully slid
off his horse. He wore a skeletal mask made of black iron, the mouth twisted
into a chilling grin. His armor showed the glory of the battle, spattered with
blood and gore.
He looked like death come calling.
“Maybe I should call you that, this day,” Odin said, his
back stiffening. “Father of the slain.”
Loki shrugged. “We both have many slain today,” he pointed
out.
“True. But you have not as many as I,” Odin said formally.
“I will not ask for more acknowledgment than that,” Loki
said with a grin. “Though I would love to hear you eat more crow, calling me
the better warrior.”
“Never,” Odin said. “Even at the end of things, we both
fail.” Why was he thinking so much of the twilight? It wasn’t imminent. They
hadn’t had three winters without the sun, three summers of failing crops.
“We shall see,” Loki said. “When the time comes for the
world to renew itself, maybe we’ll both be left standing at the end.”
Odin shook his head. No, fate could not be changed. He’d be
swallowed by the great wolf, then avenged by his son, who would live on past
the twilight.
Sleipnir came up from behind Odin.
He pushed his soft snout against Odin’s shoulder, saying hello. Today, the
great eight-legged steed took on Loki’s colors, with a soot-black coat and
red-tinged hooves, his eyes as white as if covered by cataracts.
Was the great horse not happy to see his parent? Or did he
blind himself so he wouldn’t see the deeds Loki got up to while riding him?
Odin wouldn’t break this oath, however, and told Sleipnir , “Go with Loki. Do as he bids, for the next
fortnight.”
“Oh, I won’t actually need that long,” Loki said casually.
“I need only three days.”
“What do you intend to do?” Odin asked. Was he better off
not knowing?
“Going to visit my other children,” Loki admitted as Sleipnir nuzzled at his shoulder. “The great serpent. The
frost giants. Others.”
Was Loki trying to start the great war? To bring the giants
in to the fight? It was one of the signs.
Odin would have to consult with the other gods. See if they
knew what Loki was up to.
“Feel free to use my steed in exchange,” Loki said,
graciously calling the animal closer.
Odin shuddered. The horse stank of Loki’s witchcraft, of
blood and the musk of sex. “Your generosity knows no bounds,” Odin said dryly.
What was the trickster up to? Sleipnir bounded away even before the dead could be raised from the great field. They
would gather later in Loki’s hall, to carouse and drink and celebrate their
victory.
Tonight, there would be no celebrating in Odin’s hall. There
needed to be talk, and analysis, and strategies set instead.
Loki was up to something. Something not good. Something
worse than usual. Odin just knew it.
If only he could figure out what it was before it was too
late and the Twilight Battle had begun.
***
The VA hospital looked the same on the outside as it always
did: cold white walls four stories high, sterile, full of order . The flags out front were at half-mast, though Hunter
couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t. Too many died, all the time. The
concrete sidewalk looked brown and wet. It had been swept clean with military
precision, a gently curving ribbon cutting through the snow piled on either
side, leading to dark glass doors.
Hunter still stood on the sidewalk outside, examining the
building minutely, seeking changes. Was it safe? Or, at least, safe enough for
him to go in?
No snipers rested on the roof. No individuals lay patient
and buried under the snow, waiting to tackle him when he got close enough. No
guard hid behind the sharp corners of the
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