Page 61 of Heart of Mischief

It was a depressing collection of flyers. And if Charlie didn’t find the person controlling Rattatosk, there would only be more. More posters, more search parties, more town-wide memorials.

More dead children.

But this time, it would be her fault. Her and Mason’s. Human targets, threats for no reason other than being born.

But threats to whom? Which of the few joturri left wanted her and Mason dead? Could it be someone Loki had once angered? It wasn’t unlikely, given the god of mischief’s long history of screwing people over.

She needed to stop Rattatosk before he struck again. And the only way she knew how was a scheme so outlandish she didn’t even think it would work. Unfortunately, she was out of options.

“Elias,” Charlie said suddenly, looking back at him.

He tilted his head. “Yes?”

She stared at him for several seconds. It felt as if by saying these words aloud, she was stepping off a ledge. Dropping into free fall.

Don’t be ridiculous, she reminded herself.This has nothing to do with him. This is about saving innocent lives.

“I’ll do it,” she said at last. “I’ll train with you. I’ll try to see if I can access my magic.”

Elias’s eyebrows jumped with surprise. Then his lips spread into a smile. “A wise choice, Charlotte. You won’t regret it.”

But as she hauled another bucket over to the bleachers, she had a feeling that he was wrong. She had a feeling that she would regret this decision very, very much.

20

After a quick dinner withhermom—Mason was already headed to the Gut (but then, these days, Mason always had an excuse to get out of family meals)—Charlie sprawled out on her bed and opened her laptop, ready to finish the story about Balder. Up by her headboard, Henry was bundled up in his favorite wool blanket, watchingThe Witcheron Charlie’s phone. He cheered every time Henry Cavill drove his sword through someone’s chest.

Charlie scrolled back to the part of the story where she had left off.

Nothing could touch Balder.

All the gods rejoiced at their favorite’s newfound invincibility. All but one, who lurked in the shadows, scheming as always.

As Frigg proudly observed what she had done, an elderly woman appeared beside her.

“Is that your son?” asked the woman.

“It is,” said Frigg, smiling.

“He is beautiful.”

“That he is.” Frigg had never seen this old woman before, but she was proud enough of what she’d achieved that she wished to tell her anyway. “He cannot die. I’ve spoken to everything on Asgard that could kill him and received their promise that they will do him no harm. Everything except mistletoe, of course, since that little creeper can’t possibly kill him.”

“Mistletoe, hmm?” asked the woman.

“That’s right,” said Frigg, laughing as Thor threw an entire ox at Balder and watched it fall uselessly to the ground.

When she turned back to the old woman, she was gone.

Naturally, that old woman had been Loki in disguise. Armed with the knowledge of Balder’s one weakness, he went into the forest to collect mistletoe, fashioning it into a razor-sharp dart. He slipped it into his pocket and returned to the celebration.

The group was still cheering, throwing anything dangerous they could find at Balder and roaring with laughter when it bounced right off. The only god who could not participate in the merriment was Hod, Balder’s blind brother. It was to Hod that Loki went when he returned with his dart of mistletoe.

“Hello, Hod,” said Loki. “You seem down. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, hello, Loki,” said Hod, recognizing his voice. “It’s nothing. I just wish I could see what was making everyone laugh and cheer so much.”

“Why, they’re playing a game with your brother, Balder! You see, nothing can harm him now. They’re having great fun proving his immortality by throwing large objects at him.”