Having nearly convinced myself of my moral superiority, and argued almost convincingly that now was better than never, I girded my metaphorical armor. I wished intensely for a sword and magic helmet like Elmer Fudd's, and hoped my rifle and Gary's knife proved as effective. If all else failed, Loki did present the classic sitting target. And if things got nasty, I might find out the hard way if a living god could be killed. I mounted with far more confidence than I had any right to feel, and rode boldly out into the open.
Nothing happened.
Loki continued moaning, and Mrs. Loki continued stooping, and the snakes continued spitting at them both. So much for moral superiority. At least the really big snake seemed to have lost interest for a while. Or maybe it was just recharging its venom supply for another blast. Be that as it may...
"Uh—hello?"
Stupid, stupid...
Several thousand heads swiveled to stare at us, and my horse caught sight and scent of snake. He screamed louder than I'd ever heard before, and abruptly I had no time to evaluate the startled glance Loki and his wife shot in my direction. I nearly came unseated several times, but even a dead horse can be handled if you're forceful enough. By the time I'd gotten my mount under control again, Loki had lifted his burned, scarred face. He watched through mad eyes. My breath rasped in my ears, loud as a freight train as I recovered from wrestling the stallion.
"Well." His voice was a ragged croak. He probably hadn't said a word in a thousand years, and screaming is hard on the throat. "It would seem, my dear, that we have a visitor."
His wife glanced distractedly my way again, then returned to her task. When I looked back at Loki, I nearly fell from my horse. He had transformed... . Rather than a scarred wreck, the god bound to the rocks now appeared to be a robustly handsome young man. Wavy black hair fell across smooth fair skin, and twinkling dark eyes seemed to suggest that his chains were a mere inconvenience. No sign of the hideous damage remained.
I swallowed hard. Baldr had warned me Loki was tricky. If I hadn't seen him from hiding, I would never have guessed his true appearance. I watched narrowly for the least sign of treachery. What was it Gary had told me about bargaining? Sweat froze under my shirt and inside my boots.
Loki smiled, all pleasantries and curiosity. "Now what would a plucky young mortal like you be doing seeking out an old wreck like me?" Even his ravaged voice had smoothed into a mellow tenor. "I'll wager it's been two thousand years since anyone came my way. —No, no, I take that back. What was his name, Sigyn, that delightful fellow who came around for a chat, oh, four decades or so back? Higre? No... Hister? Eh, what was that, my dear?"
She whispered something too low for me to hear.
"—Oh, yes, Hitler. Yes, that was his name. Entertained me for days. Bright chap. Too bad he killed himself, though. Seems the talented ones always do. Had some good ideas; but he wasn't ruthless enough. Killer instinct is so important in his line of work. I must say, though, I really am impressed with you, young fellow. However did you manage to get here alive, of all things?"
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. It wasn't that I was scared—although I was, down to my socks—I just didn't know what to say. Loki found me more impressive than Hitler? I narrowed my eyes, and shut my lips. Tricky wasn't the word. It wasn't even close. Let him talk? Or say my piece and get the hell out of here? Not even the Sly Biter had any useful suggestions.
My inclination was to let him talk. Flattery is generally more productive than petulance.
"It wasn't easy," I answered him truthfully.
"Didn't quite catch that, son. Could you come a little closer? I'm afraid I'm going a little deaf in that ear. Old age is dreadful."
I kneed my horse one step closer—but no more.
He smiled genially up at me. "Now, then, what was your name? I don't believe you said."
"Barnes."
"Barnes," Loki echoed flatly. "That's it? Nothing else? Odd names they're giving humans these days. Well, Barnes, what was so important, you had to ride all the way to Niflhel?"
I forced myself to sit back in the saddle, and relax my death grip on the reins. "I'm looking for Sleipnir. Have you seen him?"
"Sleipnir?" Loki broke into laughter, which startled me considerably. He let his head fall back while he wheezed. Only then did I notice something dark spattered on his chest and belly.
"Have... I seen... " He finally managed to control his hilarity, although tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, and froze on contact with the stone slab. "Oh, yes, I've seen my bastard son, my friend. He left his calling card, as you can see." One hand waggled fractionally in the direction of his bespattered chest. "I never did understand where I went wrong with that youngster. Turned myself into a mare—a female, mind you, which is not as easy as it sounds, let me tell you that—just so the ungrateful little wretch could get himself born, and what did he do to thank me?"
"Ran away from home?" I suggested.
Loki sighed, and nodded. "Got himself into bad company, then didn't have the good sense to bite the hand that fed him. I suppose I was just too preoccupied with other matters to take him properly in hand. Pity; he'd have been such an asset." Loki shook his head mournfully, looking very much the part of a bereaved father. Then he spoiled the effect. "Not that Sleipnir'll be much help when Fenrir gets hold of Odin. I do look forward to that."
The Father of Monsters chuckled, clearly relishing the moment when his other son gobbled Odin alive. Not that I objected to Odin's demise. I just didn't want the aftermath of Loki's revenge destroying my world.
"So, tell me, lad, what is it you want with my eight-legged freak of a son?"
"I plan to—"
"Speak up, son; I can hardly hear you. Damned snakes hissing so loud I can't hear myself piss anymore. Come closer—I don't bite, you know. I can't even move." He shrugged his shoulders in apparent resignation, which I didn't buy for a second. His eyes glittered with malice, and with hope.
I eyed him darkly, and kneed my horse one small step closer.
"I plan to catch Sleipnir."
Loki's eyes went round. "Catch him? Wel-l-l-l now, that's an interesting bit of strategy, isn't it? Where were you planning to go with him? Must be Asgard itself—only place you really couldn't get without his help."
Loki was smart, all right.
"The thought had crossed my mind," I allowed cautiously.
Loki grinned. "Has it, now? And what would you be wanting in Asgard, little friend?"
I wasn't little, and I wasn't his friend, and I wasn't about to answer him straight out, not until he'd given me something in return.
"We've got a saying on Earth these days," I said with a tight smile, "that seems appropriate."
He lifted one brow. "Oh?"
"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."
His lips went slack with shock. "Audacious little maggot, aren't you?"
I grinned. "Hel and Baldr thought so, too. So'd Skuld."
Loki blinked; then narrowed his eyes, and gave me a chilling smile. "You have made quite a little journey, haven't you? Hel and Skuld both, eh?" He dismissed Baldr without comment. "Catch Sleipnir. Well, now." He seemed lost in thought for a moment; then grinned quite suddenly. He looked like a mischievous schoolboy. "I suppose I might be able to give you a pointer or two. Of course, you'd have to make it worth my while. You scratch first, eh?"