Consequences

10

Loki walked away from Sunny, invisible, thinking it was likely that the girl knew he was only invisible given her skills with magic, but he was not invisible for her sake. He still felt incredibly insecure walking the city by himself, always considering that there were those who blamed him for setting into motion the instability in the realms that lost some of them their warrior sons, husbands, and brothers. There were those who even blamed him for Malekith's attack, believing that if the realms had been stable, he would never have dared attack Asgard. Loki, therefore, traveled invisible.

He slipped back into the castle unseen, not dropping his spell until he was safely closed up in the hidden stairway behind the statue of Bor. The stairway was not as dusty as he imagined it would be, but he also remembered that Sunny had been in the room and had probably cleaned at least a little. He climbed the tower and opened the door to his last remaining study. There was light streaming in from the seven large windows that looked out over the city, illuminating the large bookshelves that ran from the floor to the very high ceiling, all of the books therein ancient and magic in their own rights. The room was clean, the sparse furniture like he had left it so many years ago. His papers still sat on the desk in a neat stack, the ink in the inkwell dried, his quill stuck in the crusted ink. He stood in front of his worktable and surveyed the jars in front of him. Herbs, potions, some strange pieces of small creatures mostly dissolved in their liquids. This had always been his favourite study, though also the least convenient. He liked its seclusion and the fact that to anyone looking from the outside, it was a solid tower with no windows. He, however, had possibly the most spectacular views in the city in his tower. It was a good place to work.

There was a scrying bowl on a short table in front of a low-backed chair. Loki slowly sat down and tried to clear his mind, to focus on only finding Brynja and Amundr. Memories of Sigyn and all of the things he had done to wrong her kept slipping in. He uncorked the crystal water decanter next to the bowl and poured it in the bowl. He stared, trying to get his mind in the right place. Brynja. Amundr. Finding them. He stared in the reflective surface and stared, waiting. Brynja's face appeared. She was tired, worried, possibly frightened.

He whispered, "Amundr. Where is our son?"

The picture became broader, showing the toddler asleep in her arms as she sat on a bench built into the wall. The room appeared to be stone, or at least the part of it she was sitting against was. He refocused and looked for Sigyn. She was not in the room with Brynja and Amundr. Wherever she was, it was in the city. He could see a window behind her. The view from it was familiar. It almost looked like she was on the ground floor of the palace. Then it hit him. Sigyn had her own room in the palace. One that was as well hidden as his. He had created it for her during the first year of their marriage. He nearly knocked over the table as he scrambled to his feet. The room his wife and child were in was in the cellars in one of the few chambers hidden in the walls that was cut off from the other wall passageways. Completely isolated, there was only one entrance to the room and he knew that his arrival would alert Sigyn. He dashed down the stairs, trying to reach Sunny or any of the witch-women telepathically to tell them that he'd found them.

He made himself invisible, not wanting to attract the attention of the guard. There was too much risk that if Sigyn thought she was going to lose her prize by force, that she would act irrationally, taking her anger against Loki out on them in order to hurt him deeply. He ran through the corridors, praying that she was still in the room with the window and that he could get to the chamber his family was in before she did. He only slowed his pace when he reached the cellars, the twisting hallways easy to get lost in if he was not careful, especially given the amount of time that it had been since he had sought this room. He worried about not remembering the way, but the path was ingrained in his memory and he found himself standing outside of a very well hidden door. He closed his eyes and whispered the spell that had once gained him entrance. The door opened noiselessly. He stepped inside, still invisible, and looked around. It looked largely as it had years ago, but there were now bright silver chains attached to the wall above the bench- chains that were attached to Brynja's ankles. Amundr was still asleep.