Page 123 of Heart of Mischief

“Your life,” said Loki. He sounded neither happy nor sad—only wildly indifferent. “Not everyone survives the Trial.”

Charlie’s whole body went cold.

“Nope.” Mason skidded to a halt, grabbing Charlie’s wrist so that she had to stop, too. “Absolutely not. We’re not taking another step toward that chamber.”

Behind them, the front row of the mob came to a halt. Souls cursed as they ran into the beings in front of them.

Transparent, but still corporeal, Charlie noted.

Loki stopped walking, placing a hand on his hip and heaving a long sigh. He sounded downright bored, as if this whole errand was a huge imposition on his day.

At last, he turned, landing the full force of his gaze on Charlie and Mason. Those eyes—Charlie shivered every time she saw them. So foreign and so familiar all at once.

“I’m afraid you have no choice,” Loki said. “You see, becoming a mare is not as simple as my waving a hand and turning your sister into a magical creature. There are three essential steps: the Bargain, the Trial, and the Separation, all of which are built upon what the spirits callskuggmagi—shadow magic.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Mason said flatly.

“Of course not,” Loki said, sneering. “You don’t knowanythingabout Helheim. And neither does your sister. I bet she didn’t even know when she blurted out her pledge to me that her words would be magically binding.”

Frigid air rushed down Charlie’s spine.

“What?” Mason shook his head. “Magically binding? How can she perform magic without knowing it?”

“Because she didn’t perform magic; magic acted upon her. In the Bargain—the first step to becoming a mare—the human offers me their terms, and I either accept or reject them. If I accept, the Bargain is automatically sealed with skuggmagi.” A strange expression flickered through Loki’s eyes. “From that moment, Charlie and I were both bound to fulfill our ends of the Bargain—or face the repercussions.”

There was that word again.

“I fulfilled my end. An incredibly selfless gesture on my part, if you ask me. Most mares have to wait until their service is up before I grant them what they asked for. Charlie got her reward before spending even one second as a mare. Now she needs to fulfill her end.”

“Or face the repercussions,” Mason said in a startlingly accurate imitation of Loki’s voice. “Right. You still haven’t mentioned what those are, though.”

“Death,” Loki said, speaking directly to Charlie. “The consequences are death.”

Silence settled between them. Charlie heard whispers and the clink of more gold coins exchanging hands from behind.

“So let me get this straight,” Mason said at last. “We travel all the way toliteral hellto meet you, and your only thanks is to trick one of us into becoming your slave—or else die.”

“Just so we’re clear,” said Loki, motioning to one of the servants waiting beside him. The servant opened a pouch at his side, pulling out a glass flask filled with clear liquid. “I tricked no one. Your sister asked for this. Begged, really. I merely granted her request.”

“Only because you forced her hand!” Mason argued. “You made it clear that you wouldn’t heal Elias without receiving something in return.”

“Is that what I did?” Loki asked, holding out a hand. The servant passed him a shot glass, filling it with a small measure of the clear liquid. “Because as far as I remember, I never asked for anything. Charlie is the one who spoke without thinking.”

Charlie bristled at his words. “You have no idea what I—”

“And as to your claim that you came all the way here to meet me, Mason…” Loki turned, holding the shot glass out to her brother. “Don’t lie to yourself, boy. You didn’t come here to meet me; you came because you wanted something from me.” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s a difference.”

Mason narrowed his eyes at the glass. He didn’t take it; instead, he raised one hand and slapped it to the ground. It bounced and rolled, dumping its contents on the floor, but didn’t shatter. The servant bent over and scooped it up before it could be absorbed by the crowd behind them.

Loki frowned, holding out a hand to his servant for another shot glass. “That’s expensive aquavit you just wasted.”

“I don’t care about your stupid aquavit,” Mason said. “I don’t care that you think we only came here because we wanted something from you. I care that you’reour father”—at this word, Loki’s eyes flared, and he looked like he wanted to slam his palm over Mason’s mouth—“and you’re going to let your own child walk right into what may very well be her death.” Mason’s face twisted with disgust. “Gods, all the stories were right about you. Every single one. How you murdered Balder in cold blood. How you let the gods capture your own children, let them chain Fenrir to a rock and banish Hel to hell and toss Jörmungandur into the sea…” He spat on the floor at Loki’s feet. “You’re the worst father that Asgard has ever seen.”

It happened in an instant. One moment, Loki was standing calmly, listening to Mason’s tirade; the next, he spun around, reared back the hand holding the second shot glass, and threw it at the wall, missing Mason’s head by mere centimeters. Mason gasped, ducking his head. The glass shattered, shards spilling to the floor in a deafening shower.

The crowd behind them froze. No shuffling. No whispers. Nopassing bets. They were riveted, wanting to see what their god would do to this insolent visitor.

“First of all,” Loki hissed, advancing on Mason with an expression that was even but somehow still radiating fury, “you are not my children.I’ve never seen either of you before in my life. And second”—he took another few steps toward Mason, whose eyes widened—“even if youweremy children, you have no idea of what you speak. You think you know who I am as a man? As a father?” As Loki advanced, Mason stumbled backward, keeping his terrified eyes locked on the god. “On what grounds? Based on a couple of silly stories you read in a book written by people who never knew me? Stories that have been twisted and mutated with time, changed to fit the needs of the person telling them?”