The Seventh Stone

Chapter Fifteen

The king eyes me suspiciously, standing several feet away with his arms crossed. "Is it not too soon for this?"

"It's not," I say, rolling my shoulders back comfortably—propping against a chair in the middle of the throne room. "The doctor said I needed a week—it's been a week. Do I look injured to you, still?" I gesture to my torso—completely healed and covered with my freshly patched suit.

He exhales lightly through his nostrils, shaking his head reluctantly. "Well, I suppose not..."

"That's right—and besides," I say, glancing around the hall—at the king, his guards, and Yerul. "This won't require any physical exertion."

No sign of Olen.

"How can you know?" The king asks. "And how can you be sure that you will find it?"

"Well I've done this before, that's how I know. And I can't be sure that it'll be there, I just suspect it. Seron said we're 'cut from the same cloth,' and I believe that's why I was able to travel to Asgard on my own," I say, exhaling sharply as I lean forward slightly. "What better place to hide the tesseract than someplace that only he—and I—can get to? No armies, no help."

"Speaking of Asgard," Yerul chimes in, stepping forward. "Where is your friend? Has he no interest in this endeavor?"

My eyes dart up to him. "I couldn't tell you if he did," I say contemptibly. "I haven't seen him in days."

And it's true. I haven't seen or heard from Loki in six days. I haven't tried to find him either—not after I returned to my room and found his corridor brushed, polished, and cleaned as though no one was ever there—or intended to be.

"More interesting question is," I ask. "Where's your brother?"

He shrugs. "Couldn't tell you either."

"What?" I say, raising a brow. "So... They're both gone?"

"Not quite," says a voice to the left, resonating slightly against the walls. Yerul and I both look over, seeing Loki stride through the archway leading from the next hall. He glances at me with a stiff, toneless expression—I return it likewise, keeping a mask of calm.

"What exactly is going on here?" Loki asks, glancing about as he strides along the line of guards.

"I'm going after the tesseract," I say matter-of-factly.

He slides to a stop, facing me. "You're going after it? How's that, exactly?" he gestures to the chair. "You're looking comfortable just there."

"I am comfortable. And for where I'm going, I won't be needing to get up from it."

"And where is that, exactly?" the king asks concernedly, stepping forward with his arms crossed.

I look toward him. "Well, I'm going to focus on the tesseract, and I suspect that Seron's returned it to the dark realm. The one that he was 'born of,'" I slide against the seat, straightening my backside against the wooden frame. "Or—dimension. Whatever it is."

"I don't understand—it's a real place?" Yerul asks.

I shrug. "I'll let you know when I find out."

"If you're going alone," the king asks. "Then why did you ask for all these guards?"

I pause, feeling the heavy threat of the unknown settle in my face. "Well," I say in a low voice. "I don't know if someone—or something—will try to follow me here. If it does, I'll try to hold it back. But if I can't, then you ought to be ready for it."

The king blinks toward the ground, then nods ponderously in agreement. "Very well."

I bob my head. "Alright," I say, my eyes passing over all their faces, pausing on Loki's for a brief moment. "I'm going to start now."