The Lokistone

Lokistone 12

For the FIRST section, I listened to "Midnight Syndicate. The Thirteenth Hour 1 –Mansion in the Mist"

For the THIRD section, I listened to "Gladiator Soundtrack: Sorrow."

Do enjoy!

VVVVV

CHAPTER TWELVE

"That's the way things come clear.

All of a sudden.

And then you realize how obvious they've been all along."

~Madeleine L'Engle

Darkness.

Darkness cut by a disembodied blue glow that barely revealed the edges of the rough-hewn, dripping walls of the downward-sloping tunnel. Loki's boots tapped against the stone, slapping through puddles of water. A stench hung in the air—musty, trapped, decaying. Like old magic. An invisible spell bound his wrists in front of him—and the one who walked on before him had hold of his leash.

The Other glided forward, making no sound as he moved, his long cloak dragging across the floor behind.

Loki's steps lagged.

The Other snapped the invisible chain.

Loki lurched forward, searing pain lashing his wrists.

He took two large, stumbling steps forward and righted himself, wincing. The Other said nothing. He did not even turn.

They kept moving, winding endlessly through a myriad of identical corridors, ever downward, downward...

Loki swallowed, trying to keep his breathing even.

"Where are we?" he asked. His hoarse voice echoed.

"Not far. Not far at all," The Other chuckled. "We are still on Midgard."

Loki frowned, startled.

"I am surprised you did not notice, Son of Laufey," The Other remarked. "Behold the craftsmanship of these tunnels. They are dwarf-make. Ages past, the bearded kings ruled beneath these mountains." His tone turned rough. "But they are long dead, and these caverns rot. And beasts unlike any others lurk between the stones."

Loki fought back a tremor, and made himself keep walking.

As they descended, they passed many gaping doorways on either side, each room black as pitch just beyond the threshold. And past those thresholds, within those cavernous rooms, Loki could hear distant rustlings, near-silent moans, or the skitter of scaly feet against rock. Water dripped in remote recesses, making sounds like individual marbles striking a tabletop—far, far away.

Then, up ahead to the left, Loki glimpsed another of these vast openings.

But, somehow, this one was...different.

His fingers closed into fists. An icy chill swept over his skin—his left hand began to quiver. They approached it—Loki lifted his eyes...

The arched door stood barred, as the gate to a giant's prison. The portcullis sank down into the floor like teeth. He could see nothing beyond the rusted bars.

They had stopped. The Other had halted, and Loki's feet had absently followed suit. He stood, paralyzed.

"What is it that you fear, Laufeyson?" The Other hissed—quiet, sending prickling pain across the skin of Loki's neck and cheek. Loki clamped his jaw shut, but could not pull his eyes from the bars.

A hand grasped his left one. A cold, clammy, powerful hand. Loki twitched, his head jerking around.

The Other leered at him, keeping tight hold of his hand.