The Family Lokison (Part 4)

Those We Have Lost (SIGYN)

The flow of people coming from the back rooms was too thick to pass through. I was squeezed against the wall, moving against the tide.

"Vali? Narvi?" I cried, lost in the sea of other mothers who screamed for their children and couldn't find them. My heart never beat so hard. Hela tumbled within me, amplifying the sickness of my sunken stomach. One hand protected her while the other stayed straight out, leading for me.

"Sigyn," Grid yelled, waving for me in the second room back, nearly to the door. She hunched over under the weight of our bags and a thrashing Tiwaz, whose yowl changed when he heard my voice. "The boys are out here somewhere. Vali came through first."

"Already? I saw nothing. I've been trying to get to our camp and can hardly move."

"I'm certain. Vali's already far ahead." She adjusted the rope of her rucksack and was pushed forward by the anxious folks behind her. "I thought I saw Narvi, too."

I felt no comfort from her words. Even a shred of doubt would tie me to the marble forever. "You're not certain for him?"

The way she readjusted Tiwaz meant she avoided the question. Grid couldn't lie. "My faith is what I'm certain of. They're needed in new Yggdrasil, Sigyn. Come." She gave me a heavy nod and closed the gap between her and the next person, allowing more frantic people to squeeze through the doors.

Part of me always trusted Grid and her odd Vanir superstitions. But something deep inside told me not to believe her. Only my very own eyes would convince me. If I couldn't find them here, I could at least confirm where they weren't.

"Excuse me," I said, trying to reason with anyone who would stop and acknowledge me. "Have you seen two Vanir boys? One with brown hair, one black. Their tunics are long. They would've come by here. Please—"

Tear-stained people met my gaze and kept walking. They clutched one another, dragged their feet together. Some were carried, injured, covered in blood and unable to speak. The further back the line went, the more they were covered in debris, like the palace was falling apart from the far room to the front by design. Only more reasons to worry.

"Move," a boy yelled, shoving through the dazed evacuees. He forced his way through the crowd without care, making room where there was none.. His coiled coif marked him. "Let me through."

"Modi?" I shouted for him, yet he didn't turn. It was futile to keep trying. I could only hope my boys could be equally assertive when it mattered.

I swallowed every sensation the best I could to keep my wits about me. The next room was notably darker than where I'd just come from, with torches hanging off the walls. As the people thinned out, another familiar face found mine.

"What are you doing here?" Freyr yelled. "Turn around. Now."

"No. Not until I'm certain the boys aren't still inside."

He grabbed my elbow. "They're not. I've watched for them. You have to leave."

I wrenched myself away. "No. I will leave no room unchecked, Freyr."

"Sigyn, wait—"

"Tell Loki I love him. If our children don't get out, there's no point in my living anymore." I didn't linger with him or ask for his help. "I won't dawdle, I promise."

A tremendous crash above us knocked us in opposite directions. I clutched the pillar at my side and pulled my skirt up not to trip while tiptoeing around the piles of fallen ceiling debris.

Just scan through the rooms and come back. Just once. Bravery was never my strong suit, but performing in panic certainly was. Only I knew the difference. Of all the destruction and evil I'd seen, a quiet, dark basement didn't rank very high. It was only what I searched for that made me so anxious.