The Lokistone

Lokistone 10

CHAPTER TEN

"We are not only our brother's keeper.

In countless large and small ways,

We are our brother's maker."

-Bonaro Overstreet

For a moment, Loki stared blindly out into the pitch darkness, his heart racing, his fingers twined tightly through Jane's.

Lightning lanced through the sky. It sent a brief, blinding white flash down across the valley, turning the raindrops into falling nails and the leaves of grass into gleaming knives.

His startled attention stumbled across a fallen figure out in the yard.

His heart flinched—like a hand touching a flame.

And he stared at that form, instantly paralyzed.

Jane pulled out of his hand.

He twitched, eyes going wide, as she darted out into the pelting rain.

The rain, which now began to chatter as it struck the earth. It had turned to ice.

Jane threw herself down beside the man, her hair blowing around her face. She grabbed hold of his shoulder and tried to turn him over. She couldn't.

"Loki!" she called to him—just as the thunder mockingly gnashed its teeth and sent a snap of lightning from north to south.

Loki stood, his whole chest locked in iron, unable to move.

Jane lifted her face—her bright, desperate eyes and sharp expression caught in a twisted flash of light.

"Loki, come help me!" she begged over the roar of the storm, keeping hold of the fallen one's shoulder.

Loki's teeth clamped hard. His left hand flinched toward his middle.

He slid one foot forward. Then the other. And again, and again.

He staggered off the porch, and had to catch himself. Sleet battered against the right side of his face—he grimaced, lifted a hand and lowered his head against it. The ice-encased grass snapped off underneath his boots, crunching loudly. The wind bit at his clothes.

He came nearer, on the opposite side from Jane, and stood over the two of them. He looked down.

At Thor.

Thor, lying prostrate, his head turned toward Loki. His face, hair, cape, armor and hands colorless and coated in ice, his eyes closed.

Jane's shivering hands tugged at Thor's shoulder again, but he didn't stir. Loki glanced at her.

That sharp expression had intensified as she stared at Thor—her fingers closed around his cape. She looked right up at Loki.

"We have to get him inside!"

Loki said nothing. He stood, the ice bombarding his shoulders and the back of his head.

Then, with both hands, Loki reached down, grabbed Thor's left arm, and heaved him up. Jane gasped and fell back. Loki bent over and ducked beneath Thor and stood up, bracing the whole of Thor's great body across his shoulders. He quickly grasped Thor's right arm and right leg in either hand and turned toward the little house, leaving Mjollnir where it lay.

Jane scrambled to her feet and hurried ahead of them, hopped up on the porch and grabbed the swinging front door. She held it open and stepped aside. Grinding his teeth, pain dancing around through his ribs, Loki stepped up onto the porch, ducked very low and got through the door and then up that treacherous step.