The Seventh Stone

Chapter Three

I'm falling. I can't tell where I am or where I fell from, but I know I'm moving through the darkness all around me. I hear something too, something coming up behind me, and I turn my head slowly in its direction. I hardly have a moment to react before a pair of red, whirring eyes come flying toward me. Claws rip into my flesh as I scream, and—

"N—," I inhale sharply as my eyes bolt open.

My skin tickles from a bead of sweat running down my hairline, cooling my face amidst the chilly breeze passing over me as I lay motionless—peering at the starry sky that's opened up before me. I blink a few times, feeling my body temperature rise as my senses slowly waken. A dim light flickers to my left, and my hair sifts between the grains of sand as I turn over onto my side, curled along the edge of a small fire pit.

With a flash of gleaming light, I look up into the translucent tips of the flames, where a pair of pale, blue eyes peer back at me amusedly.

"Welcome back," Loki says flatly, flipping his clean dagger in the air.

I furrow a brow as I glance around the little camp, trying to piece it all together as I prop my elbows against the dirt, and lift myself up. A cold, evening breeze brushes against the top of my neck, and it suddenly occurs to me that my neck is now the only area of skin still exposed to the elements.

I roll my eyes downward slowly, to see my long, light curls tumbling over a suit of dark green leather that leaves nothing revealed—save for the small notch at the top of my neck.

I turn back to Loki. "What is this?" I say hoarsely, pinching the cape draped over my curves.

He shakes his head slightly. "It's the only reason you've survived the cold—think of it as a gift," he says in a soft, sarcastic tone. "I worked very hard on it while you were indisposed."

My face sinks into a stoney glare. "What does that mean?" I mumble quietly.

"It means..." he sighs, leaning forward as he waves a hand in the air. A sudden flurry of threads and fabrics brush against my arm, and I blink surprisedly as a portion of the suit covering my right arm fades, and re-appears again. "I made it."

I turn back to him with lips slightly parted, staring for a moment before nodding slightly.

"Okay," I murmur. "Thank you..."

"Nothing to thank me for," he says matter-of-factly, leaning back against the rock with legs extended, and one ankle resting atop the other. "I've simply decided that I need you alive."

I peer at him intently for a moment, as a large curl falls over my face in the breeze.

"Let me guess," I mutter in a low voice. "To find the stone?"

Loki's brow rises slightly as he stares back—like he's feigning approval for my suggested cooperation, and mocking it at the same time.

"Well fine," I say earnestly. "You can have it—I just want to go home. Get me out of here, and... Hell, I'll throw in a bow on top."

The corners of his mouth twist downward as he lifts both hands up in a contented gesture, with the gleaming dagger in his right hand—intentionally placed, I'm sure. "Excellent," he says, tilting his head back. "Then we have an accord—quicker than I thought it'd come."

I shrug. "Were you expecting a lot of pushback?"

His grin stretches further with a light chuckle. "You really don't know who I am, do you?" he says in a low voice, glancing at me with a raised brow.

I narrow my brows suspiciously. "No?" I say in a low voice. "Other than what you told me—is there more to it?"

Loki eyes me for a moment, and his lips thin thoughtfully into a straight line. "Hm," he pauses for a moment, and a quick decision flashes across his expression as he looks away with a grin. "Midgardian apes—never fail to entertain."