We left a bit later. This time, I was following Kanesha. She thought she had an idea for a place we could hide.

A place that didn’t belong to anybody. But her route took us towards Southeast. I pulled up my hood, not wanting my white face to stand out any more than necessary. I was more worried about that being noticed than the sword.

In fact, I was willing people not to pay attention to me. For now, at least, it seemed to work. I could feel eyes gliding off of me.

Trickster’s daughter, I thought. Trickster’s daughter, but that was not all I was going to be. Whatever I grew into, it would be my choice. Not Loki’s. Not Odin’s. Not anyone else’s. And, somehow, I would find a place in it for the dark skinned girl I followed.

Somehow I would keep her alive. And then I realized where we were heading.

“I’m not that insane.”

“I know a way onto the west campus. The part the coastguard aren’t using. It’s all locked up and it’s a mess, but who’s going to look for us in a madhouse?”

“My father?” I quipped, able to be amused…even as I heard a chilling echo of the angel’s greeting. I was more than just the trickster’s daughter.

Lokisdottir. As if that was the only thing that mattered about me. My bloodlines, the ones multiple suitors sought to secure. Blood and magic, and I was magic, and for the first time I started to not just remember that fact but accept it.

Kanesha led us through a gap in the old fence. This wasn’t the part of the campus they were already starting to rebuild, but if I remembered right the historic buildings had been stabilized. The one she picked out was a little bit separate. Maybe they’d put particularly dangerous people in it.

No, I realized as we slipped inside, it had been offices.

“We can’t hide here forever.”

“No, but we can spend the night here, we’ll be safe, and maybe we’ll have a better idea tomorrow. Or Thruor will show up.”

“Not sure she can find me. I know who can, though.”

It hadn’t just been a joke. The one person who would know where to look for me was my father. He’d always known where to find me, and when. Maybe the bond of blood between us…and I closed my eyes.

If that bond allowed him to find me, maybe it could allow the reverse. Or better yet. “Mother,” I whispered.

My father was more likely to show up, but the Goddess of Fidelity might have a different idea as to what to do.

As to how I might escape. I sat down on a dusty, abandoned chair, right in the middle of the madhouse, and concentrated on reaching the goddess. Not a prayer, but a call from child to mother. For the first time, truly acknowledged.