I was still a bit worried about Thruor doing something crazy. I was the kid; I was supposed to be the one with no patience or restraint.

 

No, she was doing it before I could. And I had a feeling I’d be patching her up or sending her back to Asgard to visit Eir before this was over.

 

Because…I was oddly sure and certain this was not her task either. But then, maybe she could deal with the guy doing the actual fire setting.

 

For my part? I was missing Mike painfully. But for want of a better idea, I wandered over to Will’s church.

 

Stood outside and looked at it. It was stone, so not likely to be a target. Besides, Surtur had already worked out he hardly needed to target specific people. Just, well, people in general.

 

You could only care about a few.

 

But you could protect without needing to care. If you didn’t care at all, I supposed that made you an anti-hero.

 

Or somebody who was selfishly trying to get karmic brownie points or whatever. To get into heaven.

 

That was what some gods promised, after all. A good place in the afterlife for making lives better here on Earth. Not a bad idea, I supposed.

 

Motivated people. But I knew it was often more complicated than that. Mike, I thought, mourning him for a moment and starting to turn away.

 

To almost walk into Sarael. “Hey, angel face,” I teased.

 

He laughed a bit. “You’ve got an arson problem.”

 

“Yes, I have. And I’m open to suggestions. Thruor’s gone to harass him.”

 

“Thruor kicked his butt, but not hard enough. Now he’ll probably pick something important to her.”

 

I thought about that. “A night club, likely.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t give in or worse happens.”

 

He studied me for a long moment. “I know.”

 

“If there’s anything you can do…”

 

“It certainly doesn’t suit Heaven to have the nine realms at each other’s throats again.”

 

Again? I decided not to pry into that too much. It had been before I was born, or at least before I was old enough to be any use. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan…”

 

“You plan on doing everything one woman can. I know.”

 

That felt oddly comforting. He didn’t expect me to be some kind of prophesized keystone to fix everything.

 

Just to do everything one woman could. “Everything I can without making things worse.”

 

“That’s always the tricky part.”

 

Of course, that wasn’t a promise I could personally keep – but at least Surtur still seemed to think he needed me to fight it.

 

Which was, of course, why he or one of his minions set fire to an old people’s home. I was getting more and more angry about this stuff and more and more tired of it.

 

I couldn’t stop him and I knew I had to keep with the plan, but this time I hadn’t even been close enough to help get people out.

 

All I could do was watch the news footage, loop it until I went numb. Try not to let the hate poison me.

 

Try not to let the desire for vengeance consume me.

 

Look at my sword, and think about what I could and could not do.

 

I probably needed to be hauled out to do something fun, but everyone was busy. I turned the television off and sat there in silence.

 

Stop Surtur, stop Ragnarok, but I couldn’t even stop him from burning out retired people. Couldn’t even protect a few mortals. What was I doing even thinking I could fix any of this?

 

Then finally, Thruor knocked on the door. Came in as soon as I said she could.

 

“You need this,” she commented and handed me an extremely large double chocolate cookie.

 

She was right. I rather did. “I’m done with this. I’m about to say screw prophecies, screw rules, screw everything.”

 

“Could beat up his arsonist,” she said like it was a serious suggestion.

 

“Tempting. He’d just send somebody else, but it would make me feel better.” Or the same guy back once he’d recovered, angrier with me. “Nah. It would…”

 

“Not be conducive to undermining Surtur’s authority.”

 

I blushed. “I wasn’t exactly trying to do that.”

 

“Just talk the guy into letting you go.”

 

“He did have my sword.” I glanced at the blade. “And enough knowledge to know that would hold me. Weirdly, I kind of liked him.”

 

“Why?”

 

A pause, then. “He reminded me of Mike. Cop type, I guess.” Good cops came from one mold, I supposed. Bad cops from a different, much more unpleasant one. I was quite glad I’d been arrested by a good cop.

 

She let out a breath. “Hard to think of them as people.”

 

“Hard to think of any enemy that way. But you don’t need to. Just not start the fights.”

 

“Only finish them,” she said, grimly. “I’m about ready to finish this one.”

 

“Don’t let anything permanent happen.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Okay, so I did get pretty drunk. Not bad enough that I got rolled out the door in a wheelbarrow, but I do distinctly remember that there was singing involved.
What? The drinking age in Niflheim is “As soon as you can lift a tankard.” And for dwarves, it works.

 

I am fairly sure the average dwarf woman has higher alcohol tolerance than Odin. So, maybe Angrboda could be excused after all.

 

At the same time, I had got them to at least tentatively understand my point of view before the singing started. To grasp the concept that maybe, just maybe, fire giants could be traded with.

 

Maybe not fully trusted, but I didn’t fully trust them either, so… It was progress, anyway. Plus, they put me back on Midgaard, behind the apartment.

 

I sneaked back in. Kanesha was curled on a sofa. “Are you drunk?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Dwarves.”

 

I apparently didn’t need to explain any more. She handed me a glass of water. “Drink this and please don’t be seen in public until you sober up.”

 

She was right, I thought through the fog. I drank it and then went to pass out.
We talked over a breakfast I was slightly too hungover to really enjoy. “We’re making progress.”

 

“Except on getting Muspelheim fixed.”

 

I considered. “They called my sword Firegiver. That means something.”

 

“But…”

 

I sighed. I slipped an arm around her. “I don’t want to leave you. I won’t if I can avoid it.”

 

“But I can’t be in Muspelheim. I can’t even be there, and…” She tailed off. “I know. The world’s more important than I am.”

 

“That’s not true.” I kissed her. “The world is as important as you are in a different way.”

 

“Are you sure you’re sober? Because that didn’t make much sense.”

 

I kissed her again. “To me. Besides, me and Angrboda had a long talk about…well, part of what she made me realize is that we can’t value the world. We can only value the people who live in it.”

 

“Why do you want to save the galaxy?” she shot back.

 

“I am not a raccoon,” I deadpanned.

 

“I loved that character.”

 

I grinned. “The raccoon and the tree. But neither of us is either, so…”

 

“We’re still the fools that live in it.”

 

If that example made her understand me, understand how I was feeling right now, I would very definitely take it.

 

And what would come of us? I would find another way.

 

It was not my task to kill Surtur.

 

I still had to find out who’s it was. Or if it was anyone’s.

 

Maybe letting him kill himself would be a solution to the problem. If it wasn’t for his other plans.

 

No.

 

There would be no war.

 

Angrboda, of course, opened the gate to the dwarven kingdom. Then walked away, leaving me with no way back.

 

Probably, she didn’t want any more of the overly strong ale. Or she thought it was funny to leave me at dwarven mercy. We might be friends of a sort, but…

 

Then I practically got tackled.

 

By a dwarfmaid. “Oof, don’t forget you have a lower center of gravity than I do!”

 

She laughed. “And hopefully more tolerance of our ale…”

 

“She claims you spiked it,” I said as I disentangled myself from the twin. I had, of course, forgotten which was which.

 

“Great excuse. Come on. We need to talk.” She practically dragged me into the inn. I wasn’t sure if she was Ebba or Jorun.

 

The other one had already staked out a table and claimed a pitcher of dangerous ale. And poured glasses.

 

I was not going to escape getting drunk.

 

“How did you like Muspelheim?” the one at the table asked.

 

“Can you clue me in on which of you is which?” I pleaded.

 

Table twin laughed. “I’m Ebba…maybe.”

 

I rolled my eyes. Well, maybe it didn’t matter. “I…well, got arrested and nearly lost Balgefa.”

 

“Oh, she’d have found her way back to you,” Jorun said as she sat down. “She was forged for you, remember.”

 

“She wasn’t too happy.” A fire sword. A weapon for a fire wielder, not against one. I mused on that for a moment.

 

“Well, she was probably mad,” Ebba said, between sips of ale, “With you for stupidly getting yourself arrested by, who?”

 

I laughed. “The local sheriff. It was my fault. I assumed I’d be able to talk my way out of there. Actually, I was halfway to doing so when I got rescued.”

 

“Good.” Ebba turned serious. “You want us to do business with the giants.”

 

“I want peace.”

 

“It can’t last forever.”

 

I nodded. “Well, no. But it can last longer than it’s threatening to. You guys wouldn’t exactly benefit from Ragnarok either.”

 

She looked thoughtful. “No. We would not. But if they fight with weapons we gave…”

 

“If they fight with weapons they forge then Ragnarok happens faster.” I sighed. “And you know as well as I that fire giants will never stop being quarrelsome.”

 

“And that if anything happens to Surtur he’ll be replaced by worse.”

 

I thought on that. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know the politics well enough.”

 

Jorun regarded me. “And you are a fire goddess.”

 

“And thus in a better position than most to learn, I suppose. They’re more likely to trust me.”

 

“Exactly.” That was both sisters.

 

I took a sip from the ale. It was as potent as threatened. I was also fairly sure it was not spiked.

 

Angrboda must be slipping.

 

“So, I think I made some progress. Also, the twins want to talk to you.”

 

“I’ve been wanting to talk to them. Where do they want to meet?”

 

“Same pub I got drunk at. So you have fair warning.”

 

I laughed. “Somebody is definitely not watering down his ale, right?” I was still amused at just how drunk she had got.

 

“I think somebody was actually adding some…additives. I haven’t got that drunk even on dwarven brew in a couple of centuries.”

 

Which given how much I’d seen her drink. Well. I shook my head a little. “I’ll be careful.”

 

“Do so. Because I just know those two would enjoy wheeling you home in a barrow.”

 

I thought about it and wondered who was responsible for…additives. Because she was right. “They’d grab my phone and take pictures too, and if they knew how to use the internet.”

 

Angrboda grinned. “Oh, definitely.” She paused. “Don’t show them.”

 

“I don’t plan on it. But…I went to Muspelheim.”

 

“What did you find?”

 

“About what we expected. Energy being drained, being put places it isn’t needed and not enough for places it is.”

 

She winced. “We’ve had issues like that before, but I suppose we’re better at fixing it when we spot things melting.”

 

“Or it’s all Surtur’s fault. He’s borderline crazy, after all.” A horrible thing to say, but…

 

“Only borderline?” Then she let out a breath. “No. He didn’t start getting really nuts until very recently. I mean, he’s never been easy to deal with, politically, but…”

 

“He wants what’s best for his people.”

 

“That’s a charitable way of looking at it. He wants what’s best for the subset of his people he actually cares about. Like most kings.” She lifted a hand. “Good kings know it and they have other people to care about the rest.”

 

I laughed. “I suppose it’s hard to care about people in the abstract.”

 

“Oh, come on. If it was Kanesha or a dozen strange mortals…”

 

“She’d yell at me, but…yeah.”

 

“Nothing wrong with that. It’s how we all are. Human, giant, god, angel, demon. Doesn’t matter. We all care about the people we surround ourselves with. Kings have courts. The good ones, like I said, recognize it.”

 

I thought about the fire giant sheriff. I reckoned he did care. But Surtur? I wasn’t sure…except that he had a realm to save.

 

“Well…”

 

She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “Siglaugr. You will do fine.”

 

I didn’t tell her I had no intention of being a queen. It wasn’t like I hadn’t said it a thousand times.

 

So I remained silent.

 

“So,” Clara said. “You tie magic into an object by using enchantment.”

 

I nodded. “Dwarves are really good at it.”

 

“But the dwarves won’t supply…”

 

“They don’t sell to fire giants or frost giants. Tired of them wandering into their realm to fight each other. We can maybe fix that in the long term. Angrboda’s working on it on her side.”
She wasn’t a queen, but she had a lot of influence in her realm. Having been Loki’s partner gave her a certain cachet. And she also had a certain level of friendship with Skadi, the winter goddess.

 

“That’s a worthwhile angle. It’s all very well to…”

 

“We sound like a pair of environmentalists.”

 

“It’s the same thing, though. It’s like draining your drinking water for industrial purposes.”

 

“Still, I feel as if there has to be something else, something that doesn’t…feel quite so much like a metaphor.”

 

“Says the goddess.”

 

I grinned at her. “Oh, come on. Reality doesn’t fit into nice story chunks like that.”

 

“Or does it? The nine realms affect each other, they’re tired together.”

 

“Still.” There was something I was missing, something that kept it from being some kind of neat, tidy tie-in where water and fire were just the same thing and it was all about environmentalism.

 

The cold stars.
That was the piece which did not fit. The cold stars.

 

“But you’re right. Without an alternative, people will keep doing it.”

 

“And people are notorious for not noticing or caring what they’re doing to their land.”

 

“I think they’ve noticed. I think they care. I think they genuinely don’t know how to fix it.”

 

“And the king is tied to the land.”

 

“Isn’t that a Celtic thing? The entire marrying the land symbolically stuff?”

 

“Yeah, but it’s a common superstition. The health of the king, the health of the land.”

 

“Which might be why Surtur’s convinced he has to go ahead with his plan.”

 

“After binding a suitable successor to the land.”

 

“For which he seems to be nominating me.”

 

“How else is he going to get Aesir blood into the equation? It might…it might be that would stabilize things.”

 

“That fits something Loki told me.” I sighed. “Don’t want it.”

 

“Doesn’t that make you more qualified.”

 

“I’d do almost anything to get out of it, so no. It doesn’t.” If I hated and resented the land, then I could not be a good queen.

 

If it was only what kept me away from where I wanted to be and who I truly cared about.

 

The worst part was it was a land I could learn to love.

 

I did not sense the next fire. Fortunately, it wasn’t anything important. A couple of houses in Georgetown, empty.
Rich people’s houses.

 

I wasn’t even sure it was connected, except that I just did not believe in coincidences any more. A token reminder.

 

A reminder I was still on notice.

 

It made me tempted to go back to the “accept then stab him in the back plan” and who cared if it made me an oathbreaker? People expected things like that from Loki’s daughter, after all.

 

I didn’t, but it was tempting. Instead, I was doing research. Clara was looking up stuff on magical energy and something she was calling knots of magic.

 

Knot seemed like a good word for magic being tied up somewhere it could not be used.

 

I was also looking into sources of fire. (The crazy idea of somehow stealing a star nobody was using had not completely escaped my head, although I knew it was not something I could actually do).

 

I did not want to give up without trying every possibility. And if nothing worked? I was not sure what to do at that point.

 

Loki had implied that trying to save Muspelheim could trap me there. Or rather, I thought, it might bind me to that realm.

 

Might make it home.

 

Unless the only way to get extra fire was to use myself as a source…and then I might not be able to leave until I found a better, longer term solution.

 

That, I thought, was rather what he was hinting at. I could have lived with that if it wasn’t for Kanesha. Any longer term solution would come after her mortal lifespan.

 

Surtur’s desperation told me I could not wait.

 

So, was that it? Would I have to give up the woman I loved after all? What would happen to her if her soul was tied to me and I was tied to Muspelheim?

 

That was a question for Thruor, but I had not seen her in a few days to ask. I paced the reflecting pool – it was a place one could go and walk circles and nobody would particularly notice or care.

 

People would just think I was exercising or something. Or maybe even realize I was thinking.

 

I did not care what they thought.

 

Think.

 

I was fire, but where did my fire come from? Nobody seemed willing to tell me that.

 

Stealing stars.

 

I sighed. The apple tree, the metaphor. Dying fire giants. It had not got to that point yet. Or had it?

 

I had seen healthy people, healthy children. I assumed it was not at that point yet.

 

I assumed it would be at that point soon.

 

I might not have intended to involve my father, but he showed up at the shoot.

 

He didn’t, at least, do anything. Other than quietly watch and admire. “No picking up my coworkers,” I told him when I met him, back in street clothes, leaving the door.

 

“The south Asian one might be worth it.”

 

“Prefers girls,” I told him.

 

He arched an eyebrow. “I can fix that.”

 

I knew he did not mean changing her orientation. I mock punched him. “Please, you’re the most embarrassing ever.”

 

“I doubt that.”

 

“You are. What do you want?” I wasn’t quite concealing my irritation with him. Affectionate irritation, but irritation all the same.

 

He was…well, incorrigible.

 

“To chat about your little expedition into Muspelheim.”

 

“I figured if you had anything useful, you’d already have told me.”

 

He shook his head. “If I set foot there, Surtur will take it as a signal to try something stupid.”

 

“So you haven’t been there in centuries.” Not a question. And not a situation I’d really expected. I had assumed…

 

“No, I haven’t.”

 

“It’s energy over-use and it’s causing drains and…well…making deserts. But the energy’s not gone.”

 

“So…hrm.” He looked at me. “Do you really want to try and fix this?”

 

“If I don’t, Surtur will start Ragnarok, eventually with or without me.”

 

“And you still don’t think…”

 

I glanced around. “No, not yet. Maybe it feels that way, but…I think they can pick themselves up from this.”

 

His lips quirked. “I’m not sure.”

 

“Doing nothing can always be fixed later,” I pointed out.

 

“After how much suffering?”

 

I shook my head. “No. I want to do this.” I got the feeling he was, in fact, testing me just a little.

 

“Alright. And if you end up having to stay there?”

 

I swallowed. “I’m hoping to avoid that, but…” I tailed off. “I don’t…”

 

“Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.” He looked at me. “Just as I might have to.”

 

And perhaps I understood then. But I’d given him the information.

 

He would make his own choices. I felt, though, that I’d won the chance to try.

 

I really had no idea how to fix it. But sitting in my new apartment…this one big enough for me and Kanesha, although still not fully furnished…I felt a lot more able to tackle the problem.

 

And perhaps I’d sowed a seed of…doubt? If somebody else got rid of Surtur it would fit the prophecy I had got from Monica and solve a lot of my problems. Unless that somebody else was even worse.

 

Somebody who would, for example, start the war now without me rather than later with me.

 

But the only way I could stop him from setting fire to something else…I could not kill him. My sword wanted to.

 

My sword was distinctly annoyed, and I sensed the edges of that. Well, the sword did not get to decide what we did next.

 

I did.

 

Kanesha came in, struggling through the door with books. I moved to help her. “Hey.”

 

“Hey. Please try not to get yourself arrested next time.”

 

I had, of course, told her the entire story. Which she found inordinately amusing, much to my annoyance.

 

I didn’t appreciate my partner laughing at me. Even if it was funny. Even if I would probably be joining her eventually. It had the feel of one of those things that would be hilarious once time had mellowed it some.

 

“I’ll try.”

 

“And by the sheriff, too.”

 

I managed a grin. “He sure acted like one. I wonder if my dad would have any insights into the problem.”

 

“If he had, wouldn’t he have already said something?” She was stacking the books somewhere convenient but untidy. I didn’t care. I didn’t exactly plan on doing much entertaining of people who were not my friends.
Friends wouldn’t care about a few stray books. I certainly wouldn’t.

 

“Point. But that assumes he isn’t still hoping I’ll fail.”

 

She frowned. “It does.”

 

“I know part of my job is convincing him not to pull the trigger, but…”

 

“But he probably still thinks, at least to a point, that it’s the right time.”

 

“Exactly. We can’t rely on him for help. Thruor saw some stuff, but she’s not that sensitive to fire.”

 

“And I can’t even…”

 

I moved to hug her. “Kanesha, you’re the best of all of us. You don’t let anything stop you mixing it up.”

 

She laughed weakly. “Which may get me killed one day.”

 

“I’ll try and keep that day in the future.” It was my job to protect her, after all, even if she did sometimes try to reverse things.

 

Even if she did keep up as best as she could. But one day…I knew she would fall. Knew it in my heart.

 

The only thing that kept me from pushing her away was the knowledge that she knew it too.

 

“I’m not actually going to kill him,” I said at breakfast. “But I’m going to stop him.”

 

“Because he’s threatening the things that matter to you. Whatever those are.”

 

“Excuse me for not telling you that.”

 

And then the door was kicked in. I looked up. “Thruor. Please join us.”

 

People were fleeing through every possible exit. Apparently valkyries showing up in Muspelheim was cause for fear.

 

I was sure she was not alone either. No, I glimpsed Bjorn behind her. The kid gave me a thumbs up.

 

“Do you actually need rescuing?”

 

“I need somebody to go to the stables, knock out the two guys there and retrieve my sword. Other than that…” I half shrugged at her. “We’re having an interesting political conversation here.”

 

The fire giant cop looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him up. “You told me you weren’t working for Odin!”

 

“She isn’t.” Thruor smiled.

 

She said nothing more. I watched him deflate like a pricked balloon. “I’m leaving now. I hope you didn’t tell Surtur you had me, so you’re spared the embarrassment.”

 

“When you…”

 

I shook my head. “Worry about keeping kids from getting lost in those tunnels. Let this be over your head. But be ready.”

 

“I am. There’s a storm coming.” He looked at Thruor. “There’s always a storm when the valkyries ride, and when they come here…”

 

“I am here,” Thruor said. “So we don’t have to.”

 

And I knew she trusted me more than I realized. That our relationship had shifted. That she wasn’t just my mentor any more.

 

Kara came in with my sword, sheathed. I took it from her, feeling oddly a little more whole for the weight of it. “Let’s go.”

 

Nobody dared to stop us. Thruor offered me a hand up behind her. “So…” she asked.

 

“They’re draining the energy to fight wars, but it’s being held somewhere. If we can release some of it then everything will be fine.”

 

“For now.”

 

I nodded. “But fine until it’s supposed to change. It’s not. Not yet.”

 

“I knew we could count on you.”

 

“Don’t count on me yet. I have no idea how to fix this.”

 

She nodded, then the steed whirled and we rode off into the early morning.