She shook her head. "They'll find us."
"Here you will never be anything more than you are right now. A rag doll to be used and tossed about by monsters. But you are so much more. Isn't the risk of death worth the possibility of true freedom?"
Sutrelle glanced at her hand, feeling the power inside her again. The power no one knew about except Val. Her father's fire and her mother's magic. Combined. Val had sworn her never to use her power because the moment her father found out about it, she would be his slave to his destructive will forever. Forced to use her magic to harm and maim and conquer. Things that would break Elle in the end.
"Come on." Val shoved the clothes into Sutrelle's hands. "Put them on."
Sutrelle inspected the clothes. Freedom. No more beatings. No more fear. The opportunity to figure out what she wanted to do with her life instead of being told. Wasn't that worth the chance?
She stripped off her gown and surveyed her belongings, trying to decide which were most important.
Her things. But they weren't her things. Not really. Everything in her room had either been her mother's or something secreted away without anyone knowing.
Sutrelle walked to the trunk in the corner and opened the lid. Inside a locket called to her. She'd made it out of scraps of metal she'd found around the castle. Mostly cast-offs from broken weapons. It had been the one thing she'd used her fire magic to make, melting and shaping the metal with her hands, literally. She ran her fingertip over the intricate design etched into it.
She slipped the locket around her neck, glad she would finally be able to wear it daily instead of only inside her room. It warmed her chest where it sat between her breasts. Inside, a portrait of her mother, drawn by Val, gave her strength. She picked up a worn journal as well.
Her books were replaceable. Her clothing as well. Not that she figured she would need long, drab gowns where they were going. The only other things she wanted had been her mother's.
She grabbed the dragon's hide bag, walked to her shelf, and began putting her figurines and rocks inside.
"Hurry," Val urged. "We have a long trip ahead. And we need to make sure we arrive before anyone notices we're gone."
“Don’t worry,” said Sutrelle. “Within the hour, the orgy will begin, and we will be the last thing anyone thinks of. Even Thadren.”
CHAPTER TWO
THIRTY DAYS LATER
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." Thor ran his fingers through his hair and slid on his boots before tying the laces.
"I think it's your mother you have to thank. I simply asked if you would go with me because I have someone I need to meet, and I don't want to be roped into conversations with anyone looking for free legal advice," Loki replied.
Thor threw him a daggered gaze. "You mean a meeting you happened to mention in my mother's presence, which happened to be on the same night as her monthly masquerade feast?"
Loki chuckled and straightened his shirt cuffs. "Wrong again, my boy. Your mother set up the meeting. It's not my fault you're so nosy you eavesdropped on the conversation and got tangled up in her little scheme to marry you off."
Thor growled and stood from the edge of his bed. He didn't need marrying off. He'd been there, and that hadn't worked out, so giving it another try was not in the cards as far as he was concerned. Not that that stopped Frigg. Ever since the destruction of the Bifrost during Ragnarök, rifts had formed all over the nine realms. Rifts they’d tried to fix by remaking the Bifrost. But Odin’s magic wasn’t as it had once been, and so instead of connecting Asgard to Midgard, the Bifrost had somehow connected to Yggdrasil, the great ash tree connecting all worlds. In doing so, it opened up pathways between realms that the Asgardians had never realized existed before. Mount Olympus, Helheim, heaven, Valhalla, and Fólkvangr, Sheol and Gan Eden, Swarga Loka, Jingtu, and the immortal realms, Jodo, Duat. Whatever realm was believed in after death, it connected to Yggdrasil. And as they had all grown restless in their respective afterlives, immortals used the rifts to move from realm to realm. And as such, the Norse god had moved from Valhalla to a realm of their own in Helheim. A realm that they had created and reigned over with the permission of Hel, Queen of Helheim. Not that she had much choice. When Odin said something was happening, it happened.
And ever since the move, Frigg had tried to set Thor up with every human and sup- supernatural who came into her pub or attended her masquerades. Frigg may want to see him happy, but she had no idea what weighed his soul down, and he doubted bringing a female into the mix would make anything better.
Even so, he appeased his mother by agreeing to attend her masquerades about every six months. Not that anything ever happened. For decades, he'd watched regulars show up and leave. Seen newcomers pair off with someone never to return. But for him, it was all routine. He went. He drank. He spoke as little as possible, and he left. Tonight would be no different.
Loki set his hand on Thor's shoulder for a moment. "It won't be any different if you don't give it a chance."
Thor shrugged off Loki's touch. "I hate it when you do that. Reading minds is creepy."
Loki shrugged. "I wouldn't need to if you opened your mouth and spoke more. You used to be so talkative. Couldn't stop talking as I remember. Mostly about yourself. Your conquests, victories, virtues, anything about you. But now-"
"Now I know better." Thor grabbed his leather coat and threw it on.
"I was going to say, now you are boring."
"And what about you?" Thor questioned. "I don't see you rushing out to find someone."
Loki flashed him a winning smile. "I don't need to. My bed is constantly filled with whoever I find companionable for the night. No strings. No expectations. Just fun. The way I like it."
Thor walked to the edge of his loft and took the metal stairs down to the floor of his shop two at a time. Bikes lined the walls of the solid brick structure. In the middle of the shop, his current restoration lay in pieces. Every section of the bike meticulously laid out and labeled.
