Endgame Replay

What had I been thinking? What HAD I been thinking? Loki would have said I'd not been thinking at all and, Norns know, he'd have been right. I brushed a tear from my eye. I couldn't do this. I was no hero to go back to Asgard on the second-worst (or possibly the third-worst, since watching Thanos murder my brother was right up there, too) day of my life and face Jane looking like this. What if I should run into Mother? I couldn't face her disappointment. No, I could not do this.

I glanced down at Rabbit. "I cannot do this."

He sighed. "We're here. There's nobody else TO do it, pal. It's gotta be you."

I shook my head. "I really cannot. Look at me. She'll be horrified."

"She broke up witcha, anyway, right?"

"Aye," I said, nodding sadly. "'Twas a mutual breaking, though, but what has that to do with it?"

"Then, nobody cares if the dame is horrified," he argued. "Not like you're ever gonna see her again, is it?"

I swallowed hard. "I suppose not," I admitted. Jane had been one of those who disappeared, gone to dust at the Mad Titan's snap of his fingers. This mission, if we succeeded, would bring them all back, but I had no wish for her to see me like this, in this timeline or my own.

"So, we'll go find her," he instructed patiently. "You'll do your smoochie thing, and I'll poke her with this."

"What mean you, 'Smoochie thing'?"

"You'll kiss her," he impatiently explained. "Sweep her off her feet! While you're doing that, I'll get the stone thing."

I nodded. "I see." Through the haze of alcohol sprang up a handful of brightly-colored memories of kissing Jane. Sweet, intelligent Jane, with her unending curiosity. I recalled how much she enjoyed running her hands over my muscles, admiring my fitness.

Then I imagined her reaction to my current state, and how she might respond to my unkempt hair and beard, the thickness of my waist. I realized that my mouth tasted sour, and when I blew into my palm to check my breath, the foul stench caused me to wince. "I cannot kiss her like this!"

Rabbit's little paws clenched into fists. "Why not?"

"Because she'll see me!" She would probably run away.

He sighed and rubbed a paw over his face. "Then knock her over the head and put her out for the count. That might work better anyways since she won't feel nothin' but a headache when she wakes up." He glared up at me. "Unless you're afraid to smack a dame?"

I did feel a trifle ill at the thought of visiting such violence upon my lady, though at least she'd not know it was me. I nodded. "You're right, of course," I said, forcing a half-hearted grin. "Very well. Perhaps I could apply that technique used by the elf on board the starship Enterprise, rather than hitting her, though? That seems fairly effective."

"Sure, buddy," Rabbit muttered. "Whatever works."

The guards were standing in a cluster, joking amongst themselves as we tiptoed past, out of sight. I could not help glancing around as we passed.

There were so many new prisoners. Had there in truth been that many crowded into each cell? That couldn't possibly be sanitary. I brushed at my beard and realized I had little room to judge. My own small house back in New Asgard was far less clean. Though to be fair, Korg and Meek had contributed to the mess as well.

I sped up lest someone turn and espy me, only to turn and stop in shock.

Loki.

He looked bored nearly to death, lying on his little cot, tossing and catching a small glass as if he had nothing better to do with his time. And was that not the case? Our father had sentenced him to an eternity in these cells, and I...

I had not forgotten that he was here, but I had put it from my mind, not wishing to remember. How sorely had I wronged him, in every way. Not thinking to question the All-father's overly harsh judgment. Not taking the time to visit him myself until I had need of his aid. Not even allowing for our mother's compassion—no, I had admonished her for visiting him, for providing him with the little aid that she was allowed to give.

None of the other cells had even a bed, and the handful of books was paltry compared to the palace library he had devoured as a youth. How could I have argued against these scant comforts?

Had I truly been so angry with him?

Now that I paused to think on it, I had to admit to myself that I had let my fury overwhelm any love I had once held for my brother. Even on Midgard, while he was held in the belly of the mortals' flying fortress, I had stayed away, preferring to speculate over his intentions rather than confront him directly and consider whatever he might have had to say. Having spoken with him one time, on the mountainside, I had judged him to be full of spiteful madness, and had given up on even trying to reason with him.

And after I had turned him over to Father, it had been all too easy to forget about him, to drown my bitterness in the lust for battle as I traveled across the Nine Realms putting down raids and minor rebellions as fast as I could find them. Not once had I come to speak with him; indeed, I had felt him to be a lost cause.

In my absence, had he spent that entire year alone? Mother sent her illusions, but that was hardly the same as being able to speak face to face, to touch. Did his keepers ever speak to him? Had Father forbidden that, or was it perhaps Loki who'd refused to converse? He could indeed be stubborn, and had borne out grudges far longer than merely a year.

But I could no longer hold any grudge against him, not fresh from his loss and with new appreciation of my own fault in creating the rift between us. Even now, looking at the overly-bright cage that contained him, I was reminded of how I'd seen it the last time: furniture smashed and scattered, books singed and shredded, and my brother slouched, bleeding, amongst the broken reminders of our mother's attempts at kindness. A kindness that neither of us would ever know again.

"Finally decided to come and gloat, Thor?" Loki asked suddenly, without looking in my direction. "Or are you going to once again declare us brothers? Do you really think a year alone is long enough to get me to repent of my evil ways?

He tossed the glass again, and Rabbit poked me hard in the small of my back, urging me onward with an angry hiss.

The sound made Loki turn, and his eyes went wide as the glass slapped back into his hand. Slowly he rose from his bed, staring.

"Move it, tubby," Rabbit growled. "We're on a mission, remember?"

"Thor?" Loki took a step closer to the glowing barrier between us. His look of concern shifted to one of scorn. "You've really let yourself go, brother. Have you adopted Volstagg as your role model?"

"Hardly," I answered. Volstagg, for all his size, had been a cheerful sort.

Although he had made many disparaging comments himself, Rabbit now defended me. "He's been depressed," my furry friend growled. "Been a rough few years, so leave him be." He glanced up at me. "Is that the brother you said was dead?"

"Yes," I replied morosely, as I stared at Loki, hoping he hadn't heard the question. Part of me wanted to believe that the brother from my own timeline had once again faked his death and escaped, but the crunch of his neck breaking in Thanos's grip, and the thump of his still form hitting the deck of the bridge replayed almost constantly in my mind. Three times I'd thought him dead, but this last time seemed like to stick. Seeing him now made me miss that Loki even more than I had before. We'd become brothers again for such a short time; it didn't seem fair for him to be gone.

This Loki—angry, bitter, soon to be bereaved, soon to be brought out to aid this timeline's Thor in saving Jane and avenging their mother—looked torn between sarcasm and curiosity.

Curiosity won out. "Why do you have a talking rodent?"

Rabbit drew a blaster and brandished it. "It'd be a breeze to shoot you, what with you being in that little box, y'know."

Ignoring the threat, Loki stepped closer. "What happened to your eye? And the rest of you?"

I opened my mouth to give some reply, but all that came out was a drunken giggle. It was all too much to convey in words.

Loki's eyebrows shot up, which just made me giggle more.

"I'm sorry," I managed. "It's just..." It was just a word; why be afraid of a word? "I've been depressed lately, so I've been drinking a bit more than I was wont to do."

"Don't know how much you want to drink, buddy," Rabbit put in. "But you sure do know how to put it away. He drinks like a fish." He sounded almost proud. "And plays Fortnight and drinks and eats and drinks and eats and maybe plays Halo or Dragon Age or Warcraft, but mostly it's Fortnight, I think. Anyways, we ain't got time to stand here yammering with you. We got a mission."

"I will return shortly, brother," I promised, not at all sure that he would believe me. Hel, I wasn't sure if I believed me. A great deal would depend on how quickly we could accomplish our mission and return here. Or how soon the events that had played out previously came to pass, and my other self came down to berate and threaten. How could I have been so callous? Loki had been grieving, too, and I had not even acknowledged that. He had asked if Mother had suffered, and I had not even answered him, too bent on my own goals.

A sudden thought came to me: The Kursed Dark Elf had not yet been brought in. This was obvious, as there had been no prison riot and no escape of the villains in the cells. I could come back and free my brother. Together, we could prevent Mother's death! I cared not that Stark had said we were to change nothing in the past five years. This was my Mother; I would save her.

Invigorated by my resolve, I sped my pace, leading back towards the guest chambers where Jane was staying. As we passed through the broadest part of the court, the chatter of women's voices caused us both to duck behind a column. It was Mother, leading a group of her ladies and instructing them to fetch astronomy books from the library and send soup to Loki.

My breath caught in my throat at how radiant she was, and how loving. I recalled she had been so kind to Jane, after Father's rude non-welcome, and she had supported my choices. Asgard had been much diminished by her loss, as had Father. I had blamed Loki for our father's death, after Odin had been deposed and sent to Midgard under a spell to confound his memories, but that had been anger and grief clouding my thoughts. If Mother had not died, the All-Father would never have fallen prey to any such trickery.

Rabbit peered past my leg as the group passed on. Frigga's steps slowed as they went by us, and her head turned as if she heard something. We hurriedly drew back further out of sight and waited for their steps to fade.

"Who's the fancy broad?"

"That's my mother," I replied, sniffing back incipient tears. Inwardly I vowed, She does not die this day.

I grabbed Rabbit's shoulder. "Wait here," I said firmly, and turned back toward the dungeons. Why wait until after we'd gathered the Aether to free Loki? I could free him now; we'd make our way to Mother's quarters and prevent her death whilst Rabbit collected the Infinity Gem and returned it to our timeline on Midgard.

"What are you doing?"

"I shall return shortly," I said. "I need to fetch my brother."

"Hold on!" His claws dug into my suit. "You got a job to do here! Your brother's where he belongs, right? Ya gotta leave him; we ain't supposed to make no changes."

I shook my head. "Stark said to change nothing from the past five years. This change predates that! I am not leaving my mother to die at the hands of that blasted Dark Elf."

It was possible that we might change things by merely removing the Aether. If the blighted thing had not possessed my lady, would Malekith even have attacked Asgard? Possibly, but I would not leave Frigga's life to chance. And, if Mother lived, Loki and I would have no need to venture to Svartalfheim; he would not die there, or fake his death, or whatever HAD happened. He and I could begin to forge new bonds. I could show more interest in the things he loved, convince him to take me with him on his travels. He could hide us both from both Father's and Heimdall's sight, and we could explore. I had no more need to be King of Asgard than he did.

Rabbit hopped up onto a decorative plinth and beckoned me closer. "C'mere."

When I hesitated, he rolled his eyes and repeated himself: "Come over here."

I stepped nearer, and leaned close to—
He struck me across the face, hard.

"You think you're the only one who lost people?" he demanded, as I was reeling from the blow. "What do you think we're doing here?"

My temper boiled up within me, but he just continued, ardently: "I lost the only family I ever had! Quill, Groot, Drax, the chick with the antenna. All gone."

For a moment, I had forgotten: The rabbit's losses were indeed as terrible as my own. My anger ebbed away into empathy. We had been sent on this mission together, and I was changing it. He was afraid I would cause us to fail, as I had failed with Thanos.

My little friend showed undreamt-of sympathy too, as he went on, "Now, I get that you miss your mom, but she's gone. Really gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kind of gone. And you can help them. So is it too much to ask that you brush the crumbs out of your beard, make schmoopy talk to pretty-pants, and when she's not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone, and help me get my family back?"

I crouched down to look him in the eye. "I know my past is the past, Rabbit, but there is a Thor here, and a Frigga, and a Loki. There is an Odin and an Asgard that can be saved, even if it can never be my own again. We will get the stone, and we will save your family and all those others. But first I must do this. If I leave here without trying, I know I will never forgive myself."

"Look, we got time travel! If we fix the future first, that Pym guy can give you all the particles you need and you can come back and do whatever hair-brained heroism you want!"

I shook my head, unwilling to leave this to that much chance. The opportunity was now, and I would not waste it. "You need not aid me," I offered in compromise. "Retrieve the Aether and return to Earth; I will abide here and do what needs be done."

"'What needs be done'?" he spluttered. "Look, fatso, this is your dumb palace—I need you to show me where to go!"

I pointed. "Third door on the right. You don't need me," I added fiercely. "This is where everything started to go wrong. I have a chance to make it right."

"Yer makin' a big mistake," he grumbled, but he loosed his grip and trotted down the hallway in the direction Mother and her ladies had gone.

I made my way back to the dungeons, only to stop short as I heard two familiar laughs. Peeking around a corner, I saw Fandral and Volstagg bringing in more prisoners and joking around with the Einherjar as they passed them.

My heart swelled with renewed pain at the thought of their loss. I had not even known of their deaths until the second day on the Statesman, when events had finally calmed enough for me to realize they were not among the pitifully few survivors. I should not have been surprised since nearly every Asgardian warrior had fallen to our benighted sister, but I had been. To this day, I knew not what had become of Sif, not even if she had been on Asgard when Hela had arrived.

And yet I knew that however bad it had gotten during the Convergence, all four of my closest friends made it through alive. So I steeled myself and snuck past them all, making my way to Loki's cell.

"Loki!" I whispered.

Loki was standing at rest with his hands clasped behind him, watching for my return but attempting not to seem obvious about it. Of course, he expected me to approach from the direction I'd left; when I whispered his name, he spun around in surprise, his coat flaring.

Almost immediately, his surprise turned to suspicion. "I know not what sort of jest or mockery this is," he declared, "but you are not Thor."

"Yes, I am," I insisted. "I may not look like myself, but I assure you, I am your brother."

"Prove it then. Tell me something only Thor would know."

"You're an idiot," I told him fondly. "But I suppose many people know that." I took a moment to think. "You once turned yourself into a snake, because you know how much I like snakes, and when I picked you up, you changed back and stabbed me."

Loki smirked reflexively, but then scoffed. "Mother scolded us within range of the palace staff, and servants gossip. Anyone could know that tale by now."

"When we were little, and I had just been given my own chambers, you used to sneak out of the nursery at night and sleep in my bed until just before sunrise, then sneak back before the nurses could discover the trick."

Frowning, he shook his head. "The more likely explanation is that I was not as clever as I'd assumed, and the nurses figured it out but never said anything. Again, anyone could know that tale."

I swallowed, aware of the time ticking away. I had to convince him, and quickly—or risk him running off the moment I released him. "Father told us that we were 'born to be kings', and I never questioned that until far too late. But Mother saw how... how did she put it... how Father and I 'cast large shadows,' and she taught you to use magic so that you might have a little light of your own."

Loki blinked at me—and it might have been a trick of the light, but his eyes seemed to be shining a little brighter, as if brimming with unshed tears. It was a moment before he swallowed, and raised his chin, and said, haltingly, "Thor didn't believe me when I tried to tell him as much, on Midgard. 'I remember a shadow, living in the shade of your greatness.' He'd never admit to having stolen all the light."

"I was a fool," I murmured. "For so long. But there's no time to dwell on that right now. What else can I say to convince you? The moment before my coronation, when you told me never to doubt that you loved me?"

He scoffed again, and turned away.

"Or the moment on Midgard, when you told me that Father had died?"

Stiffening, he stilled for a moment before whirling on me again, squinting at me as if to discern the real me behind the disguise. "I wanted to hurt you," he said finally, viciously. "What better way than to make you believe you'd been responsible for your father's death? And then I just had to twist the knife. How easily you believed that Mother would kill herself out of grief, leaving me to take the throne."

"Wait." I'd drunk enough to forget a lot of bad memories, but surely not that one. "You didn't tell me that Mother was dead. You said she'd forbidden me to come home to Asgard."

Loki's eyes went wide, then narrowed again; he drew so close to the barrier that his nose nearly touched it. "Thor? What happened to you? And why are you here, dressed like that?"

"It's complicated, and it's a very long story," I answered, glancing around for the controls that would open Loki's cell. Since I had done this before, I should remember how. Perhaps I should not have had quite so much beer before starting out. At last, I located the controls and pressed the button to lower the energy field.

As Loki stepped forth warily, other prisoners shouted out for me to release them as well. The noise was like to alert the guards, and I could not risk them stopping us. "Quickly, make yourself invisible and come with me; we have to save Mother."

Loki smirked. "She's not my mother, Thor," he shot back, and vanished.

I had a moment of pure panic before a voice at my ear made me jump.

"Save her from what, pray tell?"

Annoyed, I cuffed the air in that direction, but he was gone. "Dark elves," I whispered, not wanting any of the prisoners to hear me. "They're about to attack Asgard."

"You must be phenomenally drunk," his voice mocked. "There are no dark elves. Your grandfather wiped them all out. For which Asgard proclaimed him a hero. But when I try to destroy a race of monsters, it's 'No Loki, that's wrong, you can't do that'."

"That's different," I argued. "We were at war!"

"How is it different?" Loki demanded, pacing around me invisibly and making me worry he was going to stab me at any second. "Laufey had declared war after you invaded his realm and slaughtered hundreds of his subjects for calling you 'princess', remember?"

"Look, we can argue about it later! We need to alert everyone about the invasion and get to Mother and Jane!"

"Who is Jane? Do you mean to tell me that you brought that—What in Hel's name are you doing?"

"I am TRYING to talk some sense into you, if you would just shut up and listen for—"

"Not you!" An invisible hand on my shoulder jerked me around to face a cell full of prisoners. One of them, a tall, heavily built marauder in a fearsome mask was staring intently at me. Blood dripped from a wound on his stomach and from his hand, where he clenched his fist around... something. Something he had dug out of his own body? Had he miraculously cut out his own heart in some suicidal fit?

Then his hand closed the rest of the way, crushing the object and fire spewed from it, exploding.

He began to shake, and I barely had a chance to register his skin turning molten, as if he was burning up from the inside, before I was tackled to the floor and an explosion rocked the room.

Prisoners were shrieking and screaming for help. More shouts sounded from the guard stations, calling for reinforcements. And Loki, now visible, was on top of me, eyes wide with shock before he vaulted to his feet again, turning to look at the threat.

The marauder was indeed burning, but instead of the fire consuming him, it was still crawling over him, changing him as it went. He expanded, growing horns and plates of armor like hardened lava.

"That's the Kursed!" I shouted, climbing unsteadily to my feet. "We have to stop him!"

Loki's eyes showed white around the brilliant green irises, and he seemed frozen in disbelief.

Unfortunately, at that moment, several guards charged into the dungeons and saw us instead of the real threat. "The prisoner is out!" One shouted at the top of his lungs. "Stop him!"

"No!" I yelled at them. "Stop him! " I pointed to the hulking figure who was using one of the other prisoners as a battering ram on his own cell. The barrier burst in a shower of golden sparks, and the brute emerged, every bit as ugly as my nightmares of him. The guards rushed at him, but the first two died immediately, their throats crushed and burned, as the weapons of the others bounced off him uselessly. Savagely swatting the guards aside, the Kursed began freeing other prisoners to either join his attack or attempt to fight their way free of the chaos and impending death.

Loki cursed viciously, disappearing again. "You handle this. I'll go keep Mother safe."

"You don't know where she is!" I yelled, running in the direction of the stairs leading up to the palace proper. "And I can't stop him. He nearly killed me the last time! You stop him, and I'll go to Mother!"

At the doorway to the steps, Loki appeared again, pulling out daggers and keeping an eye out for targets. He had stopped bothering with his invisibility since Kursed had the defenders fully occupied. "I'm flattered you suddenly think so highly of my skills, but just how do you expect me to stop him?"

"You did it before!" I wheezed, out of breath from running. Why had I allowed myself to get so out of condition?

"What do you mean, 'before'? I've never seen that monstrosity, much less killed it!" Loki shouted, hoisting his daggers and preparing to throw them at anyone who might come our way.

"I'm from the future! We're here to get the Infinity Stones and undo Thanos's killing half the universe." I told him.

Loki paled. "What? Impossible. How could you allow him to get all the stones in the first place?!"

"We did not LET him do anything! Except for you. You gave him the Tesseract!"

"I did not! I would not!" A dagger flew at an axe-wielding prisoner who attempted to get past us, and the man staggered back, then fell into a heap. Loki pointed his remaining knife at me. "I went to a great deal of effort to keep him from getting it!"

As Loki retrieved his dagger, fastidiously wiping it clean on the dead prisoner's garb, I collected the fallen axe. I regretted leaving Stormbreaker behind. It was an excellent weapon, but somewhat large to be carried everywhere; how I missed being able to call Mjolnir.

The dungeons were now in full riot, with dozens of Einherjar combating with prisoners. Kursed shattered the barrier of the final cell, then turned implacably in our direction.

"We should discuss that later," I said, squaring off in front of the door as the transformed Dark Elf lumbered towards us.

Regarding the approaching threat, Loki hefted a knife and then flung it unerringly into the eye hole of Kursed's helmet. Sadly, it sank in only an inch or so instead of penetrating the brain. The Kursed growled and plucked it free, tossing it aside. There wasn't even any blood.

Loki swore, softly but fervently, and complained, "These knives are lousy for throwing."

"How do you even have weapons?" I asked, remembering him asking for his daggers the first time I had broken him out of that cell. "You didn't before."

Loki just looked at me, raising his eyebrows as if I'd said something particularly idiotic. So he had probably been lying then. I wondered if he'd actually been fooled by my petty trick with the manacles, or if he'd allowed it for some reason of his own.

Returning to the more important subject, Loki indicated the Kursed making his way towards us. "You say I killed him before? How in Bor's name did I do it?"

"You stabbed him with a pike, then placed one of their displacement grenades on his back and sent him into another dimension."

"Like this, you mean?" He conjured up a large, spotted fish with a long, tapered mouth and mimed stabbing with it. The fish wriggled and flapped madly.

"That sounds positively heroic," Loki said, shuddering dramatically and nearly dropping the struggling pike. "I'm not at all certain I'm capable.

I groaned at his ridiculous joke. "You know full well I meant a spear!"

Spreading his hands, he let the fish drop; it dissolved into green wisps before it even hit the floor. An illusion, then, and not an actual fish.

"You might have said so." His eyes were crinkled with held-in laughter. "But since you're so familiar with the method, why don't you do it?"

"I have to find Jane and Rabbit," I said with another sigh. "We must fetch the Aether and return it to Earth."

Loki's head whipped over to stare at me. "The Aether?" he nearly shrieked. "The Reality Stone? What is that doing on Asgard??"

"Jane found it by accident, and it infected her," I said defensively. "I didn't know what it was when I brought her here, much less that there were any Dark Elves about to come looking for it!"

"Thanos is looking for it; that's bad enough!"

"Well, I didn't know that either, since you stupidly didn't tell us!"

"You wouldn't have believed me!"

At the opposite end of the dungeons, Fandral and Volstagg entered, their faces wreathed in smiles. I stepped back that they might not see me, though it did my heart good to see their good cheer.

"Oh, look," Fandral exclaimed. "Some of our guests appear to be unhappy with their new accommodations."

Volstagg frowned as the chaos roared about them. "Shouldn't we wait for Thor?"

"Now, why would we do that?" Fandral asked, brandishing his rapier. "If we wait for him, we won't have any fun at all." They launched themselves gleefully into the fray.

"Idiots," snarled Loki, not entirely under his breath.

Meanwhile, the Kursed elf was closing quickly on our position. All the other escaped prisoners had quite wisely chosen to try to flee in the opposite direction.

"I think we should both go," Loki decided. "Since I don't believe that a pike of either kind would be any more effective than the guards' weapons." He glanced inquiringly at me. "Why aren't you using your hammer, anyway?"

I bit back a sob. "She was destroyed," I moaned. "Our sister, Hela, crushed her like a walnut."

"That's patently ridiculous," Loki snapped, clutching my elbow and rushing us out of the dungeons. "Mjolnir can't be destroyed, and we have no sister."

"Yes, we do and she did," I said, my robe flapping out as we ran.

"Do not, and therefore she did not." Loki was breathing hard as well, likely from his extended time of forced inactivity.

"Do so," I panted. I was getting dangerously nauseous, and very much wished I could go take a piss. Too much beer.

"Do not." He glanced behind us, and put on a bit more speed, shoving me ahead of him with both hands. "If you can move any faster, I suggest you do so."

I gasped, making a valiant effort to keep up the pace. "Could you not just teleport us to Mother's chambers?"

He jerked us to a stop. "Use MAGIC you mean?" he hissed, one hand flying to his forehead whilst the other clutched at his heart. "I must be feverish! I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing."

"Stop being an ass." From behind us, the sounds of battle intensified and I could distantly hear my own voice offering mercy for those who would surrender. I remembered how humorous I thought myself, and how valorous, not knowing that my mother's death was seeking her out, and a fleet of dark elf vessels... Was that already happening?

"Heimdall!" I knew that his name would draw his attention if it was not on me already. "A Dark Elf fleet is approaching! Raise the shields, call for reinforcements!"

"Good idea," Loki approved. Behind us, Kursed let out a roar akin to all the fiends of Muspelheim shrieking in chorus. He had been running as well, but his tremendous weight made him slow and ponderous, or he would have caught us before now. Mayhap he had not really been trying, though, because now he lowered his horn-bedecked head like a Bilgesnipe and charged. The ground shook beneath us at the force of it.

"Though maybe you could have done it more quietly!"

Loki grabbed my elbow; there was a flash of green and a lurch, and we were suddenly in our mother's chambers.