Fallen Star

Fallen Star Chapter 13

(The story excerpts in this section are taken from Stolen Thunder by Shirley Climo.)

LLLL

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Loki hesitated in the doorway of the feasting hall, his legs weak. It was loud inside—the voices and clanging of goblets and plates echoed against the alabaster. The hall was packed with as many people as it could hold, for it was Balder's Coming-of-Age celebration, and no one wished to miss it.

Loki swallowed hard, ducked his head and stepped inside, weaving through the courtiers and avoiding eye contact. He smoothed the front of his formal black tunic and adjusted his cuffs, feigning being busy, until he came to the end of the table where his mother sat. Balder's usual seat next to her was empty. Loki glanced up to the head of the table, and saw what he had been completely expecting.

Odin sat at the opposite end, Thor to his right—and Balder to Thor's right, in Loki's usual place. The blond brothers—one beauty and one brawn—laughed heartily together as Odin smiled upon them. Loki watched, feeling disconnected, and slipped down to sit next to his mother.

"Hello, Sweetheart!" Frigga said brightly as soon as he sat. She scooted closer to him, stroked his hair back at the temple and kissed his cheek. "I didn't know you were coming to see me."

He glanced at her and faked a smile, then returned his attention to the far end of the table.

"I missed you," Loki answered with complete honesty—he could spare no strength at the moment to be more trivial. His mother said something in reply, but he did not hear it. Nor did he hear the raucous Volstaag entertaining all the noisy guests with a thrilling tale of recent battle. Loki's eyes were fixed on his brothers.

Thor ate and joked with his father and Balder, his blue eyes sparkling with open affection. Often, he would slap Balder's shoulder, put his arm around him, muss his hair, or lean in to tell him confidential that would make the younger man burst out laughing. Balder's countenance was shining and innocent as ever—enchanting and warm.

But then he turned his golden head, once, and looked right at Loki.

Memories, freshly made, flashed through Loki's mind.

A dark corridor, filled with strange, metallic noises and dim flashes...

A caught glimpse in the night of a short, silver sword, harder than any armor of the Aesir...

A knife pressed to the skin of Loki's throat, ramming up underneath his jaw...

A hissed threat close to his ear...

"Stay silent, fool, and stay out of my way—or I will tell Father how you have learned to hide yourself from Heimdall..."

Hammering horror and disbelief pulsing through his veins as he realized the truth...

Choked questions filled with "why"...

A voice like a summer breeze...words like the bite of acid...

"No one would believe a word you said if you spoke of this. But if you do not interfere, I will remember you, when others do not. I will lift you high, instead of burying you here where you are. For as long as the present things remain, you will barely remain a prince. Though you ought to be next in line, you would never be king. For I know what you are, Loki. What you truly are..."

Now, Loki blinked as Balder turned back to the others. Loki swallowed hard, beginning to breathe again, his brow tight.

"Sweetheart," Frigga murmured softly. "Are you all right? You keep looking at Thor and Balder—you are not worried that Balder has taken your place at the table, are you? I promise, it is just for tonight."