Rendezvous
None of us got much sleep that night. Daucus and Laharu worked together to put me through a crash course, part refresher and part new information, about medicinal aetheric pattern breaking and reweaving. Several carefully crafted information packets were woven into my own pattern, giving me insights that normally would take months or years to understand. It’s not an ideal way to learn new skills—the information is forgotten more quickly, and once a large chunk of it is gone, the rest of it tends to dissolve into a mess of confusing associations—but it allowed them to instill me with a variety of techniques that we hoped would cover most of the problems I might soon encounter.
Meanwhile, Scathsa worked on analyzing the pattern sample e’d taken from the shroud Loki had used, and experimenting with ways to integrate it into our own wards. Aizerue and Malalik analyzed Loki’s words and behavior, speculating about his honesty and motivation, and trying to work out if this incident with Ragnar advanced Asgard’s interests, breached our security, or was just the simple request for help that it was presented to be. I could just overhear their conversation, and it distracted me repeatedly from my tutoring session. Finally, Daucus and Laharu took me into the sauna, where I couldn’t eavesdrop on the other conversation. I wasn’t off the hook when we went to sleep, either. Crowded as we were, we slept in our native forms, sharing dreams to help imprint my studies more deeply into my own memories.
When we left our suite the next morning, all of us were expecting a message from Loki. Instead, even his usual aetheric tracer was missing, and we proceeded to the conference room without incident. The only unusual event was Frigga greeting us at the entrance to the hall, who explained to our diplomats that she had come to apologize for the absence of both her sons, and authorize the Aesir delegates to continue as before. She stayed through part of the morning session before excusing herself with other duties. The conferences continued as usual through the rest of the day, still with no sign from Loki. I’d spent my time in the hall on guard duty crafting a detection and alert pattern, and as we entered our suite, I spread it in the hallway, a spiderweb of aetheric threads to snare whatever message might be sent through that medium and bring it immediately to my attention. After quizzing me to make sure the information they’d imprinted was still intact and accessible to my recall, Daucus joined Aizerue in reviewing the day’s negotiations, while Laharu joined Scathsa in puzzling out the security pattern sample. I laid claim to a far corner in one of the suite’s bedrooms, pushed the furniture into as cozy of a nest as I could make of it, and curled up in my native form, falling almost instantly into a deep, exhausted sleep.
I woke suddenly in the early hours of the morning, feeling a tug in the strands I’d woven the night before. I jumped up, shifting into my guard shape, and trotted into the common room. Malalik was sleeping on a couch near the door, and as I approached she raised her head, blinking at me.
“I think this is the signal we were expecting,” I said, and paused. “Should I put on my armor?”
Malalik yawned. “I wouldn’t bother,” she said. “But then, I wouldn’t bother with it at all if Aizerue didn’t make us wear the stuff.”
“It sounded like he was taking Ragnar somewhere else—possibly another realm,” I said, thinking it over. “The armor isn’t inconspicuous, and it’d be just as much of a bother to maintain an illusion over it, or more. I’ll go without.” I grinned at Malalik as I draped myself in the appearance of my usual guard’s uniform. “I guess I’ll find out just how well Loki can see through other people’s illusions.”
My captain snorted and leaned back. “Have fun with that,” she said, closing her eyes, “but maybe not too much fun. Remember that your job is to bring back information, not give it away.”
I opened the suite door and looked out into the hallway, immediately spotting Loki’s aetheric message tangled in the threads of my own weaving. “I’ll remember,” I said quietly, closing the door behind me and reaching up to accept the message.
It draped me in the shroud Loki had used before, the one he claimed Heimdall couldn’t penetrate, and gave me a simple pulse of information, directing me down the hallway to the skybarge platform nearest our suite. I walked briskly, but stayed alert. Whatever the Jotun’s intentions, there was always the chance of others willing to seize a convenient chance for violence.
A small, sleek skybarge was tethered at the dock, covered in the same ward that had been wrapped around me and making the barge as difficult to see as if it was formed from clear glass. As I approached Loki stood up and half-bowed to me, then did a wide-eyed double-take as I passed through the shroud and came into clear view.
“Ah… decided to dispense with the pesky clothing this time?” he asked, his eyebrows raising as I climbed into the skybarge.
“It was quicker than putting that armor on,” I said, grinning at him. “You should try going naked under an illusion sometime—it’s quite freeing.”
“I was in my third century when I learned that trick—and I did, for a while.” He piloted the craft up into the sky, skimming away from the palace in the growing pale light before sunrise, then turned back to look at me with a smirk. “Mother made me stop.”
I laughed, settling back into my seat. “I’m always a little bit surprised that most Aesir are unable to see through illusions,” I said. “I know there aren’t many technomancers in the court—unless there are some who are good enough to conceal their aetheric signatures from us.”
Loki wagged his finger at me. “I would be giving away sensitive strategic information if I told you that,” he said, his tone playful. He had almost completely recovered his composure, but I could see a slight flush across his pale cheeks as the sun rose.
“I apologize if I’ve caused offense, or made you uncomfortable,” I said, wincing slightly as the thought occurred to me.
“I’m not offended, I’m just… distracted.” He cleared his throat, sitting down on the bench at the back of the skybarge, but keeping his hand on the steering rod. “It helps that you’re so casual about it, and that, well… I hope you won’t be offended in turn, but—there isn’t much to look at.” He made a vague gesture at my chest.
I looked down at my body, wondering if he meant the lack of scales on my coppery-red skin, but it took me a minute to understand what he was referring to. “Oh! These Aesir shapes are for convenience, and specifically designed not to pass as a true member of your species—it was one of the requirements for our visit. So we didn’t bother to add details that wouldn’t show up most of the time anyway. Besides, our natural forms don’t have nipples, navels, or body fur.” I looked back up at him, just in time to see him glance away. “Would it help if I added them on?” I asked, amused.
“No—that would definitely be more distracting.” Now he looked back at me and raised his eyebrows. “You should probably change the illusion you’re wearing, though. That guard armor is very distinctive.”
I nodded. “That’s another reason I left it behind,” I said. “May I copy what you’re wearing, then? It’s difficult for me to build images of clothing from memory alone.”
“Yes, that should be fine.”
“Would you stand up, please?” I asked. “So I can get a good look at how it all fits together.”
Now it was his turn to look amused as he stood, then turned around as I directed. “I’m glad I didn’t wear anything too complicated today,” he said as he sat down again.
I didn’t reply for a couple of minutes, my eyes closed as I created the pattern of the illusory clothing and grafted it to my aetheric form, so the illusion would maintain itself without my direct concentration. I changed the color of the shirt, from Loki’s forest green to a dark red, but otherwise kept the details of his close-fitting black pants and calf-high boots. “How is it?” I asked, standing up and turning around slowly for his inspection.
“Very good,” he said. “I don’t think my gold neckband suits your complexion, though.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and changed the angled collar to a metallic black. “Should I change my complexion as well?”
“It won’t be necessary,” he said, checking a readout on the skybarge. “We shouldn’t encounter anybody other than… our friend, and this way he’ll recognize you.” He made a small adjustment to the tiller, then looked at me, tilting his head. “You’re either very confident in your abilities or very trusting, to be led away from your companions with a story like mine.”
I leaned back on the cushioned bench and shrugged, a shoulder-moving gesture close enough to a wing-twitch to be natural for me in this form. “A little of both,” I confessed. “I’m trained as a warrior, and we have cause to believe in your—good intentions. And, in all honesty… I’m expendable.”
His expression clouded a little as he watched me. “I see,” he said quietly.
“Don’t misunderstand,” I said, smiling. “I worked hard to secure a place in this delegation, and I knew there would be risks involved. And the elders wouldn’t risk my life needlessly. But if the situation arises, I’m prepared to sacrifice myself to ensure their safe escape.”
He nodded, then turned away to fiddle with the skybarge controls, which I took to mean that he didn’t want to continue that line of conversation. I noticed that the green tendrils I’d seen in his aura before were back, waving gently as if in a breeze other than that made by our flight. They seemed to reach towards me, curl back on themselves to be reabsorbed, then emerge and reach again. I extended my own aura, sending a thread out to intercept one of the tendrils. They passed through each other, and I saw him startle and shiver, then look back at me.
“Why do you want our negotiations to succeed?” I asked. I didn’t know if he’d give me a direct answer, but it appeared to be a good opportunity for a candid conversation.
Loki blinked at me, then raised his chin slightly as the tendrils withdrew. “As I said the other night, I am hopeful that a lasting, permanent peace between our people will open doors to bring about prosperity and enrichment for us all.” Wisps of gold threads trailed around his aura as he spoke.
“Certainly,” I said, nodding. “But why you? Surely you have other things you could be doing instead of working on the negotiations. And don’t say it’s because your father ordered you to,” I added as he was opening his mouth. “I’m sure you could leave as easily as your brother did if you wanted.”
“Hmm.” He considered for a moment, watching me. “In truth, there really isn’t much else for me to do. My brother and I are supposed to be undergoing extensive training to ready us for the responsibilities of leadership, but Thor prefers to go rampaging around the Realms looking for fights, and yet due to his status as Odin’s firstborn we all know he’s going to be the one to become king anyway.” Loki looked out over the side of the skybarge, his aura flickering with dark streaks of blue lightning as he struggled to control his bitterness. “When my brother does ascend to the throne,” he finally continued, “someone needs to have the skills and experience in diplomacy to keep him from starting wars from one side of the Realms to the other.”
I wondered why he was avoiding the subject of his taking rulership of Jotunheim, but put the question aside. I wasn’t supposed to know about that, and I wasn’t going to be the first to bring it up. “So, peace in the Realms, and diplomatic practice for you,” I said, watching the slow curling of golden wisps. “That does give you a solid motivation.” I left the implied question hanging, curious to see if he would take the lure.
From his smirk as he turned back to me, it was obvious that he knew I was baiting him. “Well, there is another, more personal reason.” The smirk melted away as he looked down, as though considering his words. I would have dismissed this as a performance, but the gold curls were diminishing and slowing—not entirely fading, but moved to the background of his aura.
“You mentioned earlier that most Aesir are unable to see through illusions,” he said, finally looking up at me. “Magic—technomancy, the aetheric arts, whatever you choose to call it—is not well appreciate din the current society of Asgard.”
“I’d gathered as much,” I said dryly, but Loki shook his head.
“You’ve only seen the surface,” he said. “There’s a saying you may not have heard… ‘Some do battle, others just do tricks.’” Loki’s expression twisted up on the last word, and he stood up, then began to pace. “I let Thor get away with saying that to my face, but nobody else dares. It’s always in their thoughts, though. I can fight as well as any of them, but no amount of warrior’s prowess can wipe away the fact that I can, and will, use the aether. And it doesn’t matter to them whether it’s to charge my knives with power and save their lives, or create veils of smoke so we may retreat and regroup in safety. Was I ever thanked? Did they ever praise me for my skills? Of course not.” His hands clenched into fists, jagged dark blue lightning flickering across his aura. “All the praise and thanks go to Thor and his mighty hammer, while all I ever received was thinly veiled contempt and centuries of mistrust.”
“They value the physical appearance of power,” I mused, “but are afraid of the subtlety of power they can’t see.”
“Yes! That’s it exactly,” Loki said, sitting down again. “And as a result—it affects me personally, of course, but it’s also weakening our entire civilization, as generations of Aesir are brought up to completely disregard entire branches of scientific study. Some of the New Constellation are learning technomancy, but they don’t take it seriously. They’re doing it to be seen as rebels without taking any actual risks, to outrage their parents, or to make a political statement.”
“So you’re hoping that increased exposure to our people, who use aetheric technology on a regular basis, will help to make it more acceptable in Aesir society?”
Loki inclined his head, spreading his hands out in front of him. “And there you have it,” he said, smiling. There was a bright curl of golden smoke, and I knew it wasn’t the entire story. Before I could respond, though, he was standing up, guiding the skybarge down into a rocky canyon far outside the city. “And here we are.”