“If she survived,” Thorin said. “That’s questionable. Most did not survive the last time.”
“Something tells me it’s a chance she’s willing to take,” I said.
“We still don’t know for sure it’s her,” Thorin said.
“You got any other likely candidates?”
Skyla answered first. “Helen, or Hela, was the daughter of Loki. He didn’t make it to see the new world, but supposedly some of his other children did. If it was a case of black hats versus white hats in the last world-ending battle, then Loki definitely wore a black hat and so did his children.”
“I think Loki was misunderstood,” Val said.
“Loki was a murdering, conniving bastard,” Baldur said. “And his death was a cause for great rejoicing.”
“Hold a grudge much?” Skyla asked.
“Do you know how long I had to spend in the darkness and cold with Loki’s daughter, that hateful bitch?” Baldur said, his face going red. “I lost everything. I have a right to a grudge. I am justified for wanting revenge.”
I raised my hand like a kid in school. “Uh, what?”
“Loki was ultimately behind Baldur’s first death,” Skyla explained. “Baldur’s only weakness was mistletoe, like his kryptonite, but he didn’t know it until too late. Baldur’s mother had received a prophecy of Baldur’s death, so she went around extracting promises from everything ever made—mineral, plant, animal—that they would never kill Baldur.”
“She thought the mistletoe was so harmless that she didn’t demand a vow from it. Loki tricked this information out of Baldur’s mother, formed an arrow out of mistletoe, and fooled Baldur’s blind brother into aiming the arrow at Baldur. The moment the mistletoe struck him, Baldur died. It’s how Hela got her claws in Baldur in the first place.”
A tiny little nightlight of a light bulb flashed on over my head. “Skyla, you said that as a result of Ragnarok, Baldur was released from death, which was Hela’s domain, right?”
Skyla nodded. “Right.”
“So now Helen wants him back. She’s holding Nina hostage to lure Baldur.”
“I agree,” Thorin said. “It’s why we’re going to Vegas. It’s the headquarters of Helen’s Nastrond Corp. If she isn’t there, someone will know where to find her.”
“It’s a trap,” I said, sounding like Daphne or Velma in a Scooby-Doo cartoon.
“But we’re going into it knowingly,” Skyla said.
“And that makes a difference how?”
“We’ll be wary and prepared.”
I sniffed. “Whatever we think we know, Helen strikes me as the type to be already two steps ahead of us.”
Skyla opened her mouth to argue, but Thorin cut her off. “She’s right. Helen Locke is dangerous and should be treated accordingly, no matter what.”
Chapter Twenty-four
After suffering what felt like the two most boring hours of my life, we pulled through a security gate outside the Anchorage airport and drove into a huge metal hangar. Inside, a long Boeing corporate jet waited for us, its steps lowered to the ground like a tongue lolling from the mouth of a white dragon.
Skyla sucked in a breath and then exhaled, “Daaaamn.”
“Ditto,” I said, equally amazed. “Is this yours, Thorin?”
“Ours,” Val said, cutting in before Thorin could answer. “We’re technically partners, but I’m more the strong, silent half. Thorin likes to keep his hands dirty in the management and paperwork.”
“You keep it around in case of an emergency or something?” Skyla asked as she slid out of the truck.
“It’s a charter business,” Thorin said. “It pays for itself.”
“Mostly,” Val said.
Skyla studied the airplane’s body, caressing it with an appreciative gaze. “You guys can’t magically pop in and out of places? You have to travel by conventional means?”
Thorin arched an eyebrow at her. “Can you pop in and out of places, Skyla? How else should I accommodate your travel? We’re short on broomsticks, I’m afraid.”
Val hooted and slapped Thorin’s shoulder. It was the first demonstration of chumminess I had seen between the two. But, then, they no longer needed to maintain pretexts with us, and like most long-term relationships, I presumed Val and Thorin had experienced a lot of ups and downs together. They were compatriots, but also rivals.
Skyla pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t get so defensive. It was just a question. You can keep your secrets if it makes you feel more important.” She stalked to the rear of the SUV and tugged out her duffle bag. The rest of us followed her example.
We made ourselves comfortable in the custom cabin complete with bar, galley, and lounge. Skyla found an overstuffed recliner and plopped down with her iPhone. I went to the galley, found a can of Diet Coke in the refrigerator, and claimed another plush recliner beside Skyla’s. Val, Thorin, and Baldur stowed their bags and disappeared into the room with the bar. A TV came on, and the unmistakable patter of a news anchor filled the silence.
From my overnight bag I pulled a Carl Hiaasen novel– one I’d stolen from Val’s bookshelf when I was staying with him – and tried to sink into the story, but the roar of the engines lulled me to sleep. I dozed off not long after takeoff and woke when the jet’s wheels bounced hard against the tarmac as we landed. Skyla must have napped too; she sat up and blinked several times before rubbing a hand across her eyes.
“Rise and shine, ladies.” Val ducked through the low doorway into our section of the cabin. Skyla’s sleep-softened face turned hard. She scowled at Val for no obvious reason except her ever-present contempt and went to locate her bag.
Val ignored Skyla and stepped closer to me. “Vegas awaits. And Solina, I take it you have some shopping to do.” He waved a credit card in my direction, reminding me of my ever-increasing debt to Thorin.
Val slithered to my side and pushed the card into my hand. “Take it. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
“You sound like the serpent in the garden, trying to tempt me,” I said, raising the card to study the information printed on its face. I coughed. “It’s got your name on it.”
