The Bargain

Chapter 16: Sixteenth Installment

Sixteenth Installment: Deal With the Devil

Loki chose not to return to Stark Tower. In fact, he didn't return to Midgard at all. He made his way to the 'Valley of Shadow' around what would have been about four in the morning New York time. The valley, so named because of a lack of natural light, existed between the realms of Nilfheim and Jotunheim. It was a cold and silent place, the only living beings tiny little entities that gave off a pale gray light.

Mortals called them 'fairies' because they had no other name for them. They were in reality vicious little predators that would happily swarm those mortals and chew all the flesh off their bones in less than an hour. They found Loki and curiously buzzed him, but the scent of magic on his blood warned them off quickly.

Making a vague motion with his hand, he smiled when his new staff obediently materialized. It was a beautiful weapon. As soon as the cold metal touched his skin, he felt a pulse of excitement from the Aether.

Are we entering battle? she asked.

Loki snorted softly. "I'm afraid not, beloved," he murmured. "At least, not of a physical sort. I have something else entirely to ask of you."

A strong sense of curiosity and willingness to please.

He touched the black crystal globe, which made it flare with green light. In a rapid series of images, he showed her exactly what he was here to do and what he wanted of her. When he removed his hand, the green light flickered and faded, and he felt a confirmation. In fact, she seemed thrilled at the notion.

Then Loki spent time exploring his surroundings and laying a careful network of tiny wards. He would know the second the shadow witch approached him, he would know if she was alone, and he would know if she was armed with anything other than the promised Casket. He didn't wait long.

"Is this it?" Æsa's voice inquired.

Shadow coalesced into a form, and Loki gave her a small smirk. "Still pretending to be a young maiden?"

Her orange eyes narrowed. "You should never comment on a lady's age, princeling. It is no way to win her over."

"Fortunately, I neither have that desire nor inclination," Loki said, smooth as silk. "And yes, this is it."

The shadow witch flowed into his personal space, her eyes practically sparkling with avarice. "This is absolutely magnificent. I understand your desire not to be parted with it. And what is this metal? It's exquisite."

"I was sworn to secrecy," Loki said dryly, "so I cannot say. It was forged by the dwarves of Nidavellir, and let us say they were very proud of their craftsmanship."

"I can see why," she purred, reaching out.

It took a bit of effort not to pull the staff out of her reach. He let her touch, but he didn't let her take it. "Your promise?" he prompted.

She smiled, and a pillar of shadow rose beside her. On it rested one of the four Caskets. It looked nearly identical to the one resting in the vault in Asgard, but instead of ice blue swirling within, it was storm-cloud grey.

"The Casket of Silent Storms," she said. "As promised."

She even let him take it without releasing the staff to her. Loki was half tempted to see if he could manage to escape without turning it over, but he didn't. He held it out to her.

"Try not to break it," he said with a private smirk.

As if that was even possible.

Æsa's eyes glowed. "You will not regret this, Loki," she whispered, holding the staff in both hands and staring down at it. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she disappeared.