The Ragnarok Trials

Day Five: I Need a Dollar

Day Five
         I Need a Dollar
Focus Word: Dollar
Word Count: 1744

Baldur was laid out on a pyre. If we hadn't been so far from water, I'd have been sure Odin meant to go through with a proper Viking funeral, but it seemed the Peace God would become one with the sky on solid land, no sea water to hold his spirit. Of all the things that have happened in recent days, it was this sight that troubled me most. A funeral without water meant no everlasting rest, no ocean home for our soul--and, yes, gods have souls among the Norse--only the twisting winds blowing us to and fro, never stopping, never settling for all time.

It was not what Baldur deserved.

"I am very sorry," I muttered. "That your son will have no rest..."

Next to me, Odin tensed and then stopped. He stood for a moment, face straight and unmoving, hands clenched into fists at his side. I could not see his good eye, only the ragged ruin on his left, and it was in his eyes that Odin showed his emotion, so I had no idea what he would do next. Turning to me, nodding, and patting me on the back, however, was the last thing I could have expected. "Thank you, Loki."

It moved me, I'll admit. I am not nice, but I am far kinder than anyone ever gives me credit for. "I will find justice for him, Odin. You do know that, right?"

All at once, Odin had his hand around my neck, choking the air from my lungs. It had never worked before. I'd just change shape, and I didn't actually need air in my lungs when I was god, in any case. Now, trapped in flesh, it hurt. A lot. What's more, Odin is stronger than I am, so there was nothing I could do to get him to let go short of shooting him in the head. And I'd never actually purchased a gun.

I most certainly would after this incident, of course.

I never actually feared for my life. Eventually, Gabriel would show up and stop Odin. Michael's "no helping" decree stopped at life-endangering situations, and Odin choking me to death...well, notice the word death there? It qualified as a life-endangering situation. But that didn't mean it was a pleasant situation to be in, unable to bring air into my lungs, motes swimming in my eyes as blackness crept in from the outer edges of my vision.

Odin let go after about twenty seconds, probably because I never once struggled, instead staring directly into his eye and standing completely still. I did take a few deep breaths in relief, but other than that, I didn't even react. Oh, I wanted to react. I wanted to slump against the wooden panels of the wall next to me, gasping for air and curling up until the panic boiling inside of my calmed itself, my heart rate returning to normal. But I wasn't about to show distress; it was what he wanted.

"You bastard," he growled. "Kill my son and then play for sympathy. What do you care that he'll never find rest? That I don't have the power to bring him into Valhalla with the warriors of our people? You've never cared aught but about yourself."

Rubbing my neck, I turned to stare at Baldur's body. His neck had been sliced. Thankfully, none of the handmaidens had actually survived the...fall, I guess is the right way to put that, so the wound hadn't been sewn shut. It was not a delicate wound, probably done by a large blade, but expertly done. Whomever had killed him knew what they were doing. I couldn't see any defensive wounds from here, though I'd have to get under the nails to see for sure, and that meant that Baldur likely knew his killer.

That didn't narrow it down as much as I would have liked. Baldur knew everyone. He was a very popular man, all happiness and sunshine. Not to mention he brewed one hell of a mead that also happened to be Bacchus' best seller. So Baldur knowing his killer really meant that three-quarters of God Town were now subjects.

A god with expert swordsmanship, on the other hand...that would definitely help.

"That is true," I replied, finally, staring at Baldur's body. He was pale, lips blue and blonde hair limp, but even now, in death, he seemed to glow. "I never did care about more than myself. If that's true, I never would have killed Baldur. First of all, you'd all think it was me--proven by the fact that you all do, in fact, think it was me--and have me killed, which would not be good for me. Second of all, once you were done with me, Michael would reanimate my corpse and kill me all over again before chaining me back to that rock to wither away. Again, not good for me. So why would I kill Baldur if it, in no way, does me any good?"

Odin turned away slightly. "Damn it all, you didn't do it, did you?" His voice was low, angry. "Someone else killed my son and you had nothing to do with it."

I wanted to gloat. I wanted to laugh and make a snarky remark, proving my superiority, dancing with joy that I was right and he was wrong. That's what I'd always done before, if not quite so...unsubtly. But I didn't. This time, I just shrugged. "No, I didn't. But I am used to reaping what I didn't sow. It comes with the territory."

"I won't apologize, Loki."

Laughing, surprised at my lack of bitterness, I shook my head. "I never expected it, Odin. And I wouldn't accept it even if you did, lest the world end a little precipitously. But I would accept a little bit of help. A lot of people don't want to talk to me these days, now that I..."

"Now that you work for the Angels." Odin moved in to stand next to the body of his son, as close to tenderness as anyone has or would see from him. "Why did you do that, anyway?"

I stared at the back of Odin's head, eyes wide and hands out in the universal symbol of complete and utter confused shock. Had he actually asked that question? "Well, I had a job once, but the boss man let me go. He said he wouldn't be needing my help anymore, and, oh right, he chained me up in a cave for all time. And then never came to release me. Admittedly, he couldn't once he fell, but still...everyone needs to make the dollars. And, you know, move once in a while."

"And you always think of yourself." Odin turned to look at me. "Yes, I understand why you did it. You earned your place in that cave, you know. By being a world class shit."

Leaning against the wall, I crossed my arms across my chest and grinned. "I am, and I do not deny it. But, hey, I am earning my way out of that cave by solving crimes. And since it just happens to be running in line with your needs right now, I really wouldn't complain much about it. Now, are you willing to help me? I'd settle for you calling off the dog. Why on Earth is Heimdall in his armor, anyway?"

"Because purple is his color? Because it's glittery? I don't know. I really just let him do his own thing these days. I guess he's discovered that all that glitters isn't gold...or purple, as the case may be. He's been...off every since the fall. If you thought he was protective before, he's gone quite insane about it these days. Almost cut down one of the brownies the other day because I forget to tell him to expect them."

"Then I'm glad you didn't forget to tell him I was coming..."

Odin grinned, but it wasn't from humor. "I told him that I would kill you if it came to it, actually."

"Good thing I convinced you I was innocent, then. Otherwise things might have gotten ugly around here." I walked forward, coming up next to Odin at Baldur's side. "I take it the scene has already been cleaned up? No blood to taste, or anything?"

"Everyone assumed it was you, so no." Odin shrugged, but didn't show any shame whatsoever. "We mostly just cleaned it up and plotted how to make your death very, very painful."

I thought about Gabriel for a moment and chuckled. "Then it would have gotten really, really messy."

"Why? You think you can go up against the best the Old Gods have to offer, Lie-smith? I knew you were arrogant, but I never realized..."

Looking at Odin from the corner of my eye, I smiled with just the half of my mouth he couldn't see. "I would not be able to take you guys on, no. But a few Angels might." For the first time since meeting him, the Allfather looked shock, his one eye wide with confusion. "What? You think the only reason I took the job was for the money? I don't even get paid. Not with money, anyway. Nah, I took it for the perks. Freedom, survival, and a whole cadre of allies who actually show up when I'm in trouble. It's a good thing you decided not to kill me, Odin. It would have ended very badly for all of you."

"You bastard." If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that the Allfather was laughing. "I should have known you would do something like that."

"I always do what's best for me, Odin. And almost never what's best for everyone else. As soon as you remember that, our relationship will get much better. Now, come on. I've seen everything I can see here. Baldur was killed with a sword to the neck by a skilled swordsman whom he knew. No defensive wounds, so it was a surprise. Not a crime of passion or hate, so there was definitely a purpose behind this murder. Baldur was killed for a very particular reason. Not that I know what it is, but that's what we're here to find out. And now that I'm done here, I could use some whiskey. So, how about you share some of that money with me and very visibly take this target off my back by buying us a round?"