Loki's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Loki walked his children into the heart of Asgard, and the gods gave way. But fear was not a throne. He knew it as he passed the golden hall. The Aesir would still vote against him once Odin returned to demand his stolen raven. Loki needed something no vote could undo. He needed to prove that Baldr, the beloved son, was not safe. If the perfect god could die at Loki's hand, then Loki held the one power the Aesir could never take back. He found the tree in the orchard behind Baldr's shining palace. Golden apples hung heavy on its branches. Colorful vines wound through the leaves. Loki reached up and pulled a sprig free. Mistletoe. The one plant Frigg forgot. He rolled the small green stem between his fingers. A shadow crossed the grass. Loki turned. Baldr stood at the orchard's edge, light spilling from his skin. He had come to pick apples, not to find the trickster among his trees. "You should not be here," Baldr said. His eyes dropped to Loki's hand. He remembered the vine that had drawn his blood. He remembered pleading for silence. "Give it to me, Loki. Whatever you think you hold, give it to me." Loki did not give it to him. "You told me to keep your secret," he said. "I keep it well. But secrets are worth more spoken at the right moment." Baldr stepped closer. He raised a hand to snatch the sprig. Loki shifted. His body thinned to nothing, then reformed three steps away. No god could grab what would not hold still. Baldr grasped only air. "Frigg missed one plant," Loki said. "One. And now I hold it." Wings beat overhead. A rider dropped from the clouds on a white flying horse, spear lowered, armor flashing gold and silver. Baldr had called for the watch. "Step back from the god of light," she shouted. Loki did not run. He lifted the mistletoe high so both the rider and Baldr could see the small green stem. "Strike me," he called, "and you knock this into a hundred hands. Then everyone learns what it is." The rider hovered. She did not throw. Baldr's radiant face had gone pale. He shook his head, once, begging. Loki closed his fist around the sprig and tucked it into his cloak. "I take nothing today," he said. "I only take proof." He walked past the frozen rider and out of the orchard. He had not killed Baldr. He had done something more useful. He carried the only weapon in the nine realms that could end the beloved god. Now every power in Asgard would have to deal with the god who owned it. But Baldr had seen his face at the tree. Baldr would run to his mother. And Frigg, who guarded her son above all things, would come for Loki before the sun set.