Chapter Seventeen

Lightning flashed across the black sky, illuminating the deserted town below. Two figures moved alongside the crumbling walls of buildings vacated centuries ago, sneaking through the dark like thieving mice in a kitchen. Their robes the color of the night billowed behind their feet as they ran, ducking through settled debris and fallen pillars that once held a magnificent city.

The city had once been a bustling place, full of prospect to be the greatest in the world. Like many lesser cities before it, it had fallen to the greed festering from within. Power, not meant for mortal hands, came into their grasp, clutched between their white-knuckled fingers until it brought the entire city to its knees, engulfed in flames until there was no one left. It was here, in one of the buildings that littered the ground in piles of blown ashes and scattered bones bleached underneath many years of the high sun, that a sword akin to Mjölnir was forged.

Magic had long ago found its way to Midgard, creating wondrous and monstrous things alike. Ebony Blade was no exception. One such user of the dark arts posed as a knight for King Arthur and his men, creating a blade so powerful that even Excalibur trembled at the song of the sword sliding free from its sheath. Excalibur, like Mjölnir, belonged to the worthy and only the worthy could wield the blade without scorching their hands. Ebony Blade was a weapon of devastation. Anyone could use its annihilating power, but only the worthy were able to wet its tip without befalling a terrible curse.

Ebony Blade wrought destruction upon the city, leaving it smoldering in flames, lost to history. That was until a few weeks ago when Thor arrived in Tønsberg, assaulted by the familiar scent of charred life around him, when he spotted figures clad in cloaks the color of the smoke that billowed from the embers of a once bustling city. His intentions were just, and his promise to protect Hayden was true, but the moment he heard the lips hidden underneath the shadows of a hood mention Ebony Blade, Thor knew he had to follow them. Hayden would be fine, he was certain of that from the moment he spoke his promise to Loki, and he would check on her still—after he found Ebony Blade and relieved its power on Midgard.

He followed the shadows all across Europe, listening to their whispers of The Dark Knighthood, a cult that was supposed to be long extinct. Thor remembered their downfall as though he had brought them to their knees yesterday. Their leader had called himself, Taskmaster, a man to be reckoned with, but he had succumbed to his own powers of duplication and lost to Thor's hammer. The Dark Knighthood disbanded and hadn't been heard of since.

It was far too concerning for Thor to leave a warm trail alone. He was certain Loki wouldn't understand, but Hayden was practical, and she would forgive him. Not that she knew of his arrival. Thor had never gotten the chance to check-in on Hayden. While he went one way across Europe, she went on further leaving his watchful eye in Tønsberg to wander.

The shadows he trailed led him to the ruined city where a lone building stood tall, barely touched from the years of decay. Scorch marks lined the sides and glass-stained windows had fallen out centuries ago. They entered through the broken wooden door, glancing behind their shoulders before they closed it behind them. Thor moved several inches from the rock he had been hiding behind, gripping his hammer tightly in his hands when the sound of footsteps skittering rocks behind him alerted him to someone's presence.

Standing tall, Thor spun around, his red cape cracked at the back of knees like a whip. The man behind him was just as tall, if not just as wide as Thor, with a black cloak shrouding his features. By the light of the pale moon, Thor was able to note several attributes of The Dark Knighthood follower. Poking out from beneath his hood, thick blond hair spilled around his bulky shoulders and in his left hand gripped tightly onto a handmade bow crafted from the bark of trees not on Midgard.

With fluid movements like a jungle cat, the man reached behind his back and plucked an arrow as though from thin air. He knocked it into place, aiming the tip at the ground as his fingers slid along the thin, silver string that sang in the quiet night. "Son of Odin," he greeted, brushing out the brown feathers flecked with yellow spots poking from the back of his handmade arrow. "It has been far too long."

"Not long enough, Apollo" Thor grunted, spinning Mjölnir casually in his hold. "How the great have fallen," he taunted with a smirk, "a man once reveled as a god, who had feasts and games held in his name. Apollo, who had once searched for purity, that can cure the ailing with just one touch yet with that same touch can wipe out an entire city with plague. Apollo, who now caters to the men that had once worshipped him and the ground that he had walked on. The Fates can only be so kind."

"Yes, Son of Odin, because the Fates have been so kind to us all, have they not?" spoke Apollo, his voice dripped with disdain like acid, curling the air between his teeth. "Where is it that you sit, Odinson? Not on a throne and not in chains, but behind rocks in a city of ruins, stalking humans like a shark in shallow water." The string plucked between his fingers started to hum. "I do not cater to these mortals."

"I've learned to bid my time rather than just rush in," replied Thor, dangling Mjölnir from his fingers. "I had wiped Midgard of this disease," he said through gritted teeth, gesturing with his hand toward the building The Dark Knighthood followers had entered, "and wanted to see how it was spreading before ridding it of its source." Thor tilted his head to the side, pushed air forcefully through his nose, and smirked.

"There's an illness spreading throughout the Nine Realms and one that I cannot cure." Apollo scorned, hissing his words like a wounded cat. "The time of the gods is long gone."

Thor shifted where he stood, unsettled by what Apollo had said. It was a phrase his mother liked to use whenever she was making a point that he and Loki stay out of Midgardian affairs. The Asgardians had never been on particularly friendly terms with the Olympians, their lavish, pompous ways had often inflicted with the ways of the Nordic reign, causing friction and rivalry between the two races calling themselves gods. It had been centuries since Thor had placed Mjölnir into the face of a smug Olympian. That foul Hercules had been satisfying enough but Thor's hand was itching to swing Mjölnir at another one.

"Ah yes," Thor taunted, "your sister. And where is the fair Artemis?"

Apollo lifted his arrow, aiming it at Thor's bulky chest. "Do not speak of her! You are never to speak of her!"

Barking a laugh, Thor cried out, "Oh, Apollo! You know just as well as I do that your sister has restraints where others have failed. Even I could not touch her." He slipped Mjölnir's leather strap onto his waist then crossed his arms against his chest. "You can lower your weapon now."

"I am not here to avenge what your filthy Asgardian hands may or may not have done with my sister," sneered Apollo. "I am here to make certain you do not interfere with what is to come. I will protect her and I will protect the rest of my family as well. We will not become a blink of an eye to a world drowning in flames."

Before Thor could reply he felt a sharp jolt tear through his body and like a block he stiffened and fell to the ground. Unable to move—even his eyes were frozen in place, staring at the dirt and rocks in front of him—he was forced to listen.

A female's voice hissed at Apollo. "Take him inside before he breaks free."

"I am not yours to command," Apollo spat back at the woman.

"If you want to live at twilight's end then I suggest you do as I say." The sound of boots crunching rocks underneath sounded to Thor's left. "Take. Him. Inside." There was a moment of silence, the air around him was heavy, pushing on Thor's back and through his lungs. "We can use him as bait for Loki instead of the girl."

Loki? What does The Dark Knighthood want with Loki? What trouble has he gotten into with them?

A woman with long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and bright blue eyes kneeled in front of him, smirking as she lifted up his chin. "Hello, Thor," she greeted, "you don't know me, but we're about to become very good friends. You can call me Bailey."

"Thank you for the offer, Bailey, but I have enough friends that enjoy knocking me to the ground," Thor grunted. "Heimdall!" he bellowed, closing his eyes. "Take me to Loki. Now!"

The blonde woman backed up, tossing her arms in front of her eyes as a bright light full of swirling colors shot over Thor. Within mere seconds he was gone, leaving the woman and Apollo to stare up at the sky. The smirk on the woman's face slowly grew as she began her descent back to the sanctuary.

My fingers grazed the screen of my cell phone, staring at the bright light as I fidgeted with the idea of calling Ward now, or later. Part of me felt my stomach do somersaults at the thought. He'd want to know about Loki, after all, everyone knew where Loki had vanished to and since Steve or Natasha didn't send him back to Asgard packing, Agent Coulson must have had given him the okay to remain in California with me. So, of course Ward would want to talk about Loki. He didn't trust Loki. And he didn't trust Loki with me. Or maybe he just didn't trust me with Loki…

I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and leaned back against the wall of the room I was using for the night in the safe house. I think it was supposed to go to my mother, the safe house only had two rooms, but she had taken up an extra cot in Thomas's spare and gave me the bed to recover in. Loki must have been in the living room. I glanced over at the door, staring at the knob as if it'd open on its own. When it didn't, I settled back into the bed and returned my attention to the phone in my hands.

I was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Ward was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. We had a responsibility to our agency to be professional. Steve and Natasha said he had found something of interest in those burned books we collected from Tønsberg. Loki wasn't our agenda, our mission was. My teeth scrapped along the skin of my lip. Except, Ward was still convinced Loki was Black Knight and once he found out about my house being burnt down—if he didn't know already—then his confirmations would only become stronger, despite the fact that Loki was with me and the Grendel the entire time.

I shuddered, pushing out the images of the white, eyelid-less eyes staring at me and the way her sharp smile crawled up her face like the Cheshire Cat if the Cheshire Cat was created from the darkest nightmares all put together in one. It wasn't the images of her scuttling across the walls, or disappearing into the shadows, but her voice that haunted me whenever my mind began to clear.

"You can run off into the sunset with the woman you so desire to have love you. Oops. Was that supposed to be a secret? I do enjoy your secrets, God of Mischief. Like the one you have about my master…"

My head started to spin. Secrets Loki had about my father? He had said it was the Grendel playing mind games, it was what she did best, but what about the first thing she had said to him? The woman you so desire to have love you, I repeated to myself, staring at Ward's name on the screen of my phone. It had to all be a lie, just a trick to get us to confess secrets, like Loki had said. He didn't love me and he didn't want my love. It was all just a trick.

I pressed the dial button on my phone and then lifted it to my ear listening to it ring several times. If Ward and the others were in England still then it was rather late and he was probably sleep—

"Hayden?"

"Hey, you," I started lamely. Clearing my throat I continued, "Did you—"

"I heard about your house. I'm sorry, Hayden, I couldn't imagine. I've never been in one place long enough to call it a home but…how are you holding up? Are you okay? Loki hasn't done any—"

"No," I replied a little snappier than I had intended. "No," I tried again, a little softer that time, then sighed. "Loki hasn't done anything except get on my nerves once in a while. As for my home…." I didn't even want to think about it. The thought made my stomach twist and turn. Every memory, every scent, every part of my childhood was gone. Just like that. "I…"

"It's okay," Ward said on the other line. "We don't have to talk about it. Anyway, I'm sure you're more interested in what I found in those books then you are talking about that. Just one question?" I hesitated then proceeded to let him ask his question. "What was the Grendel like? I heard Roger's put a sword through its chest."

I spurted into a fit of laughter. I don't know why. It wasn't particularly funny but of course no one would understand how terrifying the Grendel really was. So, I brushed it off and said, "I've handled worst monsters in Asgard."

At least the Grendel wouldn't haunt me in my sleep the way Loki haunted my every thought.

Grant didn't respond and there was an air of tension building between us despite being thousands of miles apart from one another. Clearing my throat again, I asked, "so? The books? What did you find?"

"Well, not much. I can't understand any of this. Italian, Russian, French, Spanish, sure, but Nordic? Not so much," he said and I couldn't help but grin. "I did however notice in several of these books there is one phrase or word repeated throughout most of the ones we were able to salvage."

"Okay?" I prompted wishing he would just get to the point. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach try to flutter their way into my throat.

"Ragnarok," he finally said and I felt a wave of disappointment rush over me. There it was again, The Twilight of Gods, a children's limerick according to Loki, and yet it was everywhere around me. What did it mean? "We tried to see if Skye could do her little magic trick with the computers but she hadn't answered her phone since we dropped her off in New York."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"Sure," Ward said in a tone that told me I shouldn't worry. "She does this a lot when she gets off the plane."

"But why? Doesn't she know we worry?"

"She's allowed her own private life, Hayden," Ward somberly replied and I could picture him leaning against the wall of his bedroom, shrugging his broad shoulders at my concerns.

"I know, but with everything going on—"

With Black Knight and all these questions swarming inside my head the last thing I wanted to do was worry about Skye on top of it all. As much as I wanted to crack these clues and get to the bottom of everything Skye would have risen to the top of my priorities. But, if Ward wasn't worried then I knew I should worry either. Skye was a tough girl. She'd be okay.

"Okay," I relented, "so you can't get a hold of Skye. I can't do anything with computers like she can," I told him, wondering what I'd be able to do that Skye had the abilities for.

"No," agreed Ward, "but you're the Norse Mythology expert, aren't you? So, what's Ragnarök?" he asked. "I mean, it's got to be something big, right? It's all over in these books."

"I don't know," I admitted flatly, slumping my shoulders in defeat. But, I hadn't given up yet. "I need to go back to the cabin," I suddenly said, straightening my back. "I mean, not now, but tomorrow morning before I leave for New York, I'll have to go. I didn't get the chance to look through my father's work and—"

"Hayden, you know with all those artifacts hidden inside that this isn't our mission anymore. You won't have clearance to any of those files until they go through—"

"I know," I sighed, gritting my teeth together. "I just—I just have so many questions."

"I know you do, Hayden. And you'll answer them. You're like Simmons when it comes to homework, always going beyond the requirements. But, you won't find those answers if you're on probation for breaking the rules and sent to Peru for recon missions, right?"

I chewed on my lip then nodded. "Right. Okay, so I'll see you tomorrow then and we can look over those books together."

"Well, unfortunately, I won't be able to help you much there. Once we land in New York to pick you up, I am being dropped off outside of Carlisle in Cumbria with Fitz and Simmons."

Both my brows raised high. "Fitz and Simmons are going into the field?"

"Yeah," Ward breathed on the start of laugh that he quickly cut off. "Fitz has some metal detector thing that he finished building that he thinks can help locate Ebony Blade."

"Do you think it'll work?"

That'd sure take a lot of my shoulders if it did. The faster we found the stupid sword the quicker we could lock it up and never have to speak of it again. The only we'd have left to worry about would be Black Knight. If he wasn't so unpredictable we'd have caught him months ago, but within the past few weeks his attacks have been irregularly sporadic. There was no way for us to figure out where he would strike next and whenever we caught wind of where he was going, we were left in the wake of destruction and he was already long gone. But, if we had the blade then maybe he'd come to us.

"Who knows," admitted Ward, "sometimes his gadgets have their uses. It's worth a shot." There was a slight pause. "So, do you have any ideas on what Ragnarök might be?"

"The only thing that I've been able to find out is that it deals with Odin, Loki, Thor, and several other major gods," I explained, rubbing at my left temple with the bone of my knuckle, digging it deep to relieve the pressure of a headache I felt coming on. "Loki says it's a children's limerick on Asgard, just a silly song they sing."

"You asked Loki about it?"

I brought my hand down to my lap and tugged my gaze toward the phone as if Ward could see my accusatory glare. "Well, of course, he's Asgardian so I figured he probably knew something about it. I wish I could remember how the song went though. Maybe there's a clue in there somewhere. I'll have to remember to ask him tomorrow."

"If he said it's just a song, then it's just a song. You shouldn't be digging up trenches that have already been dug," he retorted, his voice was harder than it had been moment ago. "Look, it just sounds to me like you're not going to get anywhere and you'll probably find what you need in these books here."

"I did have a book that talked about Ragnarök and I'm fairly certain it even spoke about what it meant but I left it at the Aaby's and I'm certain the fire claimed it."

"I can call them tomorrow to ask," offered Ward and before I could deny it—especially because I wanted to talk to them myself—he said, "it's getting late and I have a lot of backed up paperwork that Fitz refused to do for me, so I should probably get to bed." There was another slight pause. "Hayden?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, okay?" His voice had softened tremendously and I knew he was just worried. Well, he had nothing to worry about as far as I was concerned. "Keep your eyes open."

A small smile crept onto my lips. "I will. Call me if you find out anything else."

"Same to you."

The line went dead. I stared at my hands for a moment, uncertain of why I felt so guilty as I placed my phone on the bedside table. Just as the phone dropped onto the surface my fingers grazed against the twine coiled up underneath my phone. I tugged at it, pulling it free from underneath, and let it dangle back and forth between my eyes like a magician's medallion. At the end of the simple, brown string hung a sharp tooth of a wolf.

"Why didn't you just come when I needed you most?" I heard myself ask aloud. My voice was weak and cracked as I set the stupid necklace down and rolled over onto my side, facing away from it and the door.

A sharp hum reverberated through the dimly lit restaurant, mixing in with the fluid music of smooth jazz playing from the speaker overhead as Skye lazily dragged her finger around the rim of a crystal wine glass. Chatter was light, and a trickle of laughter fluttered through the room every so often. Silverware clanked against expensive china, and teeth bumped into the rims of clear glasses stained different shades of red.

Her thoughts were scattered with what she had learned in just the past few hours. The Dark Knighthood was a secret cult, lost years ago and its relevance became as useful as a VCR. From the notes Miles had revealed to her the Dark Knighthood was back and in full force, recruiting members by the nose. But, what did this have to do with Bailey Strohm and why was Miles telling her this on an encrypted computer? She had so many questions to ask him and it was difficult to try and contain them into coherent thoughts.

A hand covered hers, pressing her palm into the rim of the glass, causing Skye to jump slightly in her seat. She looked up just as Miles removed his hand, taking the empty seat in front of her. He pulled out his napkin from underneath the silverware, placing it in his lap, as he gingerly brought his glass to his lips and tentatively sipped, eyeing Skye the entire time.

"I see you didn't lose all of your money when S.H.I.E.L.D. put you in prison," she haughtily told him, picking up her menu and glancing at the words but not reading them.

"This could have all been yours, too, if you would have just come back to me," he pointed out, smirking at her with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"I don't date liars and sellouts," she firmly said, keeping her eyes locked on the chicken parmesan option rereading the description several times over. "Or, convicts. How did you get out anyways? Did your dirty money buy you a great lawyer?"

"Now that you're a fancy agent you have standards?" he asked, his voice light and irritating to Skye's ears. He was being far too casual for her liking. "I did nothing wrong, Skye. I was offered a lot of money for information only we knew about from hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database and I took that money to guarantee a better life, not only for myself, but for you." He leaned back into his chair, adding as an afterthought, "and for The Rising Tide."

"So, even though you're selling information that was supposed to go to the public like we promised, The Rising Tide is still active?" She snorted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Miles always thought he was a clever mastermind at getting what he wanted. He was only part right. The other times he was just an idiot, led to believe he was in charge, but Skye knew he was just someone else's puppet now. And, she was determined to find out of if her suspicions were true.

It was another reason, besides getting information about Bailey Strohm for Hayden—and now Ward, since she was his half-sister—that Skye had agreed to going out to a public meeting with Miles. She had no idea, however, that they'd be meeting at a secluded restaurant with meals worth more than she used to make in a month.

"I see you're not wearing the dress I sent over."

Skye had dressed in a plain violet blouse and snug jeans with black boots hitting just below her knee. She knew Miles had intended to met up somewhere nice—to flaunt his wealth, maybe to try and win her back—but the moment she opened the box and pulled out the slinky green dress she crumpled it up, put it back inside the box, and threw it away. This was a business meeting. Not a date.

"It wasn't to my liking," she said, turning toward the waiter and lifting her glass for him to fill it with a clear, white wine.

Skye brought the rim to her lips and began to drink through pursed lips. There were so many questions she had but first she wanted to know more about Ward's sister, Bailey, and why she had an ambush waiting for him and Hayden in Tønsberg. There were plenty of organizations that didn't like S.H.I.E.L.D., such as Miles's ragtag team of hacking vigilantes, The Rising Tide. Skye always wanted to be a part of something—and Miles had taken advantage of that—but at least with S.H.I.E.L.D. she knew there were people who would do anything for her—like Hayden—and she had to return the favor.

"Yes, The Rising Tide is still active," Miles finally answered after a short while. "We are stronger and bigger than we ever could have dreamed of, all thanks to my partner."

"And who is that?"

Miles smirked then wagged a finger at Skye. "Now, now, Skye. We're not here to discuss that. You want to know about Bailey Strohm, ex-agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and why almost everything about her is wiped from their system?" He pulled out a small USB drive from his pocket and slid it across the table until his fingers slid over Skye's. As she wrapped her hand around the piece of precious information, Miles continued to keep his hand firmly on top of hers. "Don't be so eager. You need another password and its one you can't hack into, snookums."

He let go of Skye's hand and she tugged it back, nearly bumping her elbow into the back of her seat. She stuffed the USB drive into her purse then turned back to Miles with her gaze narrowed. "Fine, so I tell you what you want and then you'll give me the password?"

Miles nodded.

"What do you want to know?"

"It's not what I want to know," he replied nonchalantly, waving the waiter over. He collected the menus and handed them to the young man and with a smile said, "We'll just have the Chicken Parmesan." The waiter nodded then hurried away. Once he was out of earshot, Miles leaned forward clasping his fingers together and rested his chin on top, then continued with a smirk, "It's what my partner wants to know."

Skye resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "And what does your partner want to know?"

"Everything you know and can find out about Agent Hayden Waltham."

Shrewdly, Skye asked, "Why do you need to know about Hayden? She's just a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, not like Romanoff or Barton."

"Yes, an agent handpicked by Coulson—an agent supposed to be dead, if you recall—to go to Asgard without hardly any training besides a few months spent at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy." He tilted his head, raising both of his bushy brows high. "Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

"I didn't go to S.H.I.E.L.D. Hogwarts, either," Skye pointed out, "and Hayden was chosen because of her extensive knowledge of Norse Mythology and the ability to speak the language. I'm sure even you could have figured that out."

"Look, that's all my partner wants. I don't know why, I don't know the details, and if she's as harmless as you say then—" he shrugged, "no harm done, right?"

Skye considered what Miles was asking of her. She wanted to help Hayden discover the truth behind Bailey Strohm, to figure out why she had the beach ambushed, failing to kill Hayden and Ward—her own brother—in the process. Miles had the information she needed but at what risk? Was it worth digging into Hayden's past to find out? If Miles was interested in her then there had to be something that even Skye wasn't certain she wanted to know. Hayden was her friend. She had made a rule long ago not to dig up your friend's past. But…this was different. This was worth more in the end, wasn't it?

Trying to convince herself to agree, Skye nodded, unable to say the words of her commitment. She wasn't betraying Hayden. If she found anything deemed dangerous then she'd keep it to herself. There was no need to tell Miles anything that could get Hayden in trouble. Or worse. After all, Skye knew the worst thing she'd find in Hayden's past were report cards with Bs in them. If that.

"Good," Miles smirked, "I hope you can have the information within the next twenty-four hours then?"

She could have it before the end of the night if she left right away. But, her stomach rumbled and the meal was free. Besides, once Miles had a few drinks in him he might be inclined to be a little generous with his information. Smirking to herself, Skye raised her wine glass in the air and Miles did the same, clinking the rims together.

He could hear shuffling in Hayden's room as he lay on the lumpy couch with a thin blanket draped over his legs. Loki's long legs crossed over one another, his feet nearly dangling over the edge of the couch's arms that he swore were made of stones. He had heard her muffled voice—probably calling her boyfriend, he begrudgingly assumed—and shortly after that there was nothing but silence. His eyes had started to droop and the book in his hand had fallen into his lap by the time he heard the shuffling again.

Curious, Loki uncrossed his legs and set the book down. The couch creaked underneath his weight while he slid off, placing his feet onto the floor. Just as he rounded the corner, Hayden opened the door to her room. She was fully dressed—and to his surprise she forwent the usual skirt and buttoned blouse, opting for a t-shirt and jeans combo instead. Her hair was down, brushed quickly, and several flyaways sprouted around her hairline. The little makeup she had worn was gone, save for the black smears beneath her eyes, and yet, she looked absolutely radiant.

Scowling at himself, he leaned against the square arch of the hallway, keeping his gaze on Hayden who was bumbling for an excuse. Waving his hand to cut her off, he smirked, "you do realize the moment you leave that your agent friends will be on your heels?"

Hayden stiffened. "I'm well aware, Lars, thank you." Without another word, she slipped by him and grabbed for her purse. "I'll be back soon. I'm not going far."

"At three in the morning?" he inquired, kicking himself off of the frame of the door and followed Hayden toward the front door. "Where are you really going, Hayden?"

"It's none of your concern," she started, but he wasn't in the mood for her stubborn games.

Hayden could have been hurt in that cabin with the Grendel. Or even worse. He closed his eyes, the weight of Hayden's limp body burned into his arms. Loki wasn't going to go through the pain of thinking she had died only to lose her for real the next time. Of course, he wouldn't admit that to Hayden. She didn't need to know of his intentions, after all, she thought he hated her and only wanted her for her body. It was best to let her think that. It'd make it easier for when he had to return to Asgard.

"Black Knight could still be at your house, waiting for your return. Don't you—"

"I'm not going to my house," she huffed, adjusting the strap to her purse hanging from her shoulder. "I-I'm going back to the cabin. I have to get those books."

"Hayden, it's crawling with—"

"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent too," she snapped, her cheeks flushed a bright red.

"I only meant that you were told it's out of your jurisdiction now, that is all," he somberly told her. "I'll go with—"

"No," she frantically started, "like you said, it's crawling with agents. One of them will be bound to recognize you, if not all of them. You're still considered a threat, you know?"

She did have a point. The moment one of them laid eyes on him, they'd have him in mortal handcuffs and have him shipped off with a neat little bow tied around his neck for Fury. But, he couldn't let Hayden go alone.

Loki's fingers rubbed against one another when he brushed against the warm metal ring. Glancing down at it, he watched the stone glimmer white. It was at its full power. And it would last long enough for him to use, but it would take far too long to recharge and if he was to infiltrate The Dark Knighthood—once Astrid found where they were located—he'd need the ring to be at its strongest. But, if Black Knight was in the vicinity, he couldn't risk Hayden running into him.

Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes, taking on the form of her fat dog. He sat on his haunches and looked up at her with big, brown eyes. She crossed her arms, peering down with a narrow gaze. The fat, pink tongue rolled up inside his mouth hung between his teeth as he panted then barked once.

"Shut up, you're going to wake someone," she hissed and he barked again. "Fine, fine. You can go with."

"Excellent," he told her, returning to his normal form. "I was curious with the trunk in the cabin."

"I'm just there for the books," she told him, walking out the front door. Without glancing over her shoulder to see if he was following, she continued, "you can get what you want. So long as you don't get caught.

"I'm the god of mischief, Hayden, surely you know me better than that."

She was speeding. Her knuckles were red. The green of her eyes swirled like an emerald in a display case. Every so often, her hand would fly to the back of her neck and she'd swat at her hair. She was quiet, lost in thought. They spoke very few words to one another and eventually Loki gave up on trying to maintain small talk. Besides, he knew she was still miffed at him for his little daydream while she was trying to have an important conversation with him.

He wanted to talk to her, to listen to what she had to say, but it was just so damn hard when she was so tempting. It'd been far too long since he had last tasted her lips and he wasn't sure he had the restraint any longer. They'd have to part ways soon. It was in the best interest for both of them. Once they returned to the S.H.I.E.L.D. jet he would whisk Astrid away, and they'd find where The Dark Knight was hiding together. He'd have Ebony Blade in his hands and would return to Asgard once he had destroyed the last member of men and women clad in cloaks of black and Black Knight's throat ceased moving beneath the palm of his hands.

Until then, he had to stay at Hayden's side. She was annoyingly reckless when it came to learning the truth of things. It'd have been much easier if she was still the meek, timid girl he had met months ago on Asgard. If she had been the woman that Karnilla had chosen then he knew he'd have never fallen for her spitfire tendencies. No matter how much they got under his skin and brought trouble that was best avoided.

It wasn't long before Loki had accepted the silence between them. He wasn't certain he was ready to answer the questions she had for him and so it was best to let her think of her father's research instead. Hayden was already walking alongside a road of pain. He didn't have to push her into the traffic and kick up dust at her. He'd be responsible for that wreck at another time, for now he would keep his secrets to himself.

After a while, Loki dared to glance at Hayden once more. Her fingers were still tightly gripped around the steering wheel, but her knee had finally stopped bouncing. Every so often she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth and he'd catch her brushing the hair off her neck as if tempting him to place his lips there. But, with every movement Hayden made, not once did she look his way.

Then, beneath the collar of her t-shirt, he saw it: a thin piece of brown twine hung underneath her shirt. Loki allowed himself a small smile and leaned back into the seat of his chair. He turned his attention to the darkness outside, catching fireflies sparkling like stars against the black wall surrounding the bright headlights of the car.

The closer Loki and I drove to the cabin the stronger the smell of smoke became. I had rolled up the windows of the car but it managed to creep through the vents. The smell reminded me of camping with my father when he used to take me hunting with him and my uncles. Sitting on his knee, wrapped in a blanket and his arms, I'd watch the campfire burn and eat at the marshmallows hanging above the sparking flames.

The memory erupted as the car rounded a corner and in the distance was the cabin engulfed in flames much bigger than any campfire. My foot pushed down onto the gas pedal and we sped through the gravel and dirt, kicking up rocks and twigs behind the car in a swirl of dust trailing after us. Sliding to a stop, I jumped out of the car, leaving the door open. A dinging sound drowned from the roar of the flames whipping around the log cabin. Several agents lay on the ground around it, unmoving, and some were covered in blood. Frantic, I ran toward the nearest one—a woman with curly black hair and a hard, dark face—plucking up her wrist from the ground. It was still warm, but there was no beating pulse.

My eyes darted around to the other agents and I already knew their fates. This was the work of Black Knight. He must have found out about the cabin after he had burned down my house.

"Hayden," Loki said tersely, reaching for my wrist as I rose to my feet.

His fingers brushed against the skin, barely touching my hand as I took a step forward. The heat from the flames singed at my face. I took another step forward.

"Hayden?"

"No," I heard myself say. "No. I came too far. I came too far to learn the truth."

"HAYDEN!"

Flames roared around me, whipping at my hair and my arms. I could smell the flesh burn and the smell of hot dogs filled my nose. Pushing back the tears clinging to the corner of my eyes, I peered through the smoke, suppressing a cough itching in the back of my throat. The fire isn't that bad yet, I told myself pushing past the groans of the cabin settling with each step I took. Something to my left fell from the ceiling, smashing close to where I stood. I threw my arms up in front of my face, feeling the sparks and hot coals fling at my arms.

I've been through worse, I reminded myself, lowering my ash-spotted arms, deciding to inspect the damage later. Struggling through the debris, I made my way to the bookshelf engulfed in flames, feeling my chest grow tighter with each breath I took. It was getting hotter and my throat felt as if it had caught on fire as well. All I needed was just the one book and then I could leave.

I thought in the distance I could hear Loki cry out my name but the flames roared once again like an angry, caged lion smelling fresh meat after days of starvation. The bright, blue tongues licked at my face and I fell back, tossing my arms in front of my eyes to catch the brunt of what had slapped at my cheeks. My hands slipped against the hot ash on the floor as I tumbled down, pushing my fingers against several books being eaten away by the heat, tugging them loose from where they sat, crashing to the floor alongside me.

Dry heaving, I struggled to get to my knees, pushing myself up as best as I could to see the fallen books around me, trying to discern one gibberish text from the other. Through a haze of smoke, I scanned the contents with hot tears blurring my sight, fumbling to find a book with the archaic symbols that were etched all over the cabin. If I could figure out what they were, and who had cast them, I could find out the truth about my father. I reached out, clasping a book with symbols resembling a crude drawing of an eye against my chest when I was abruptly lifted roughly to my feet.

"You foolish girl! Are you daft?! Do you want to die in here?!"

I didn't have to spin around to know who was yelling at me.

Loki steered me toward the front door, the flames drowned out his mutterings about how stupid I was. My heart raced, and I felt as if I was going throw up. But I didn't care. I had the book. All of our answers were going to be answered. All I had to do was decipher the text, ignoring the implications that it could take weeks, even months, to solve. But none of that mattered. I had what I needed and we were going—

CRASH!

My face was pushed against the crook of Loki's arm. Sparks shot around us like fireworks, flinging in all directions. I moved away from Loki, crying out at the caved in roof piled in front of the door. Desperate, I swung my head around searching for a way out.

The window!

"The window!" I yelled—out loud this time—to Loki as loudly as I could. My voice croaked like a frog trapped on a lily pad in the center of the fiery lakes of hell. The taste of blood laced along the back of my throat and trickled along the sides of my tongue. "We have to—"

The cabin shook and I was thrown from Loki's hold. He rushed to where I fell back but part of the ceiling tumbled in front of us. Sparks shot out around us and I jumped back, shielding my face with my already burnt arm, tucking the book underneath my armpit. Heat washed over me, churning my stomach as I lowered my hand, gripping tightly onto the book as though my life depended on keeping it safe.

"Loki!" I scrambled to where he laid, spotting the fiery log that landed on his leg. His face was whiter than I had ever seen it and slick with sweat, giving him the waxy look of a mannequin. "Loki!" His head lolled and his eyes were clouded as he groaned in pain. "Loki!"

Shaking my head I grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, tucking the book underneath my arm again, and pulled with all the strength I could muster up. He didn't budge. I tried again. And again. And again.

"Loki!" I futilely cried, swallowing back the dry tears extinguished from the heat of the nearing flames.

Tossing the book aside I grabbed at Loki's wrist with both hands and tugged him out from underneath the log. The book at my foot crumpled as the heat of the flames rushed toward us. With all the strength I had I pushed Loki against the wall near the window. Grabbing a chair licked with flames, I tossed it at the window. It didn't break.

"Hayden," Loki croaked, reaching up to touch the burn marks flecking my arm. "You need to go. Don't worry about me."

I shook my head and pulled my knees up to my chest, pushing myself up against the wall as the air in the room became harder to breathe in. "I'm not leaving you." I tried to swallow but couldn't conjure up any spit. Everything was so dry. "I left you behind once," I told him, lolling my head onto my shoulder, gazing at him through itchy eyes that burned each time I blinked. The weight of the wolf's tooth resting against my collarbone felt like a shield. Instinctively I reached up to touch it, but my fingers remained on my knees, too weak to move. "I won't do it again."

"If you stay then we'll both die," he said through clenched teeth, suppressing the urge to cough.

I shook my head again.

"Stop being a fool and—"

WOOSH! Flames toppled in front of us and part of the roof caved in. Loki tossed his arms around me, pulling me into him to protect me from the sparks and fire that licked at our exposed skin.

"Hayden," he groaned, pushing me slightly away to look at my face. His eyes searched back and forth. "Go. Don't be stupid. I lived a long life. You need to—" his words were abruptly cut off by deep, dry coughs.

"No," I whispered, not sure if heard me or not. "I can't lose you."

"You won't," he grinned, despite the pain lacing behind his eyes. His fingers weakly reached at the necklace hanging out of my blouse and he gently touched it. "You won't," he repeated. "Right now, just get yourself out of here, and worry about me once you're safe. That's why I'm here, Hayden," he winced and shielded my face from the heat with his hand, spreading his fingers across my cheeks and rubbed his calloused thumbs along my jaw. "To make sure you're safe."

"I love you," I cried, ignoring the crawling flames that taunted us where we sat. "I love you," I sobbed into his neck, pressing my lips against his hot skin.

He turned his head slightly, nudging my chin with his finger to look into his face. "Then you need to go," he told me. "If you don't stop Black Knight then no one else will. You need to find Ebony Blade before he does. If anyone can do it, Hayden, it's you. Now, go!"

"NO!"

And as the cabin creaked and groaned holding on to its last breath of life, I pushed my cracked and dry lips against Loki's. The smoke swirled around us, taste-testing our flesh for the flames that followed after. His mouth was unresponsive at first and I felt a pang in my heart that he had finally given up from the fumes clouding around us. Just as I was about to pull away his lips moved against mine, and his hands dug into the crisp strands of my hair. A spark shot through my body and the heat around us sucked out what little air was left in my lungs. I wasn't certain who went limp first but I could feel Loki sag against me as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

The whispering voices were growing louder, whipping around inside his skull, thrashing violently like poltergeists trapped in purgatory. A fevered sweat coated his skin, making it hard to see through the salty liquid burning his eyes. Squinting, he stumbled through his narrow gaze, earning second glances over the shoulders of curious onlookers. No one stopped to help, or ask if he was okay, as he trudged through the sticky summer night of New York's streets. His memory was a disoriented blaze, and he was certain he had been drugged, when he stopped in front of a familiar restaurant and peered inside.

Through the dimly lit dining area the sick man could see a face he knew all too well, offering his arm to a slender woman with long brown hair and a soft smile, who reluctantly took it as he escorted them toward the door. He ducked into the shadows of the alley, backing against the wall as he listened to the clacking heels of several men and women passing by. After a few moments of hiding, he poked his head around the corner, watching as Miles exited the building with his hand now around the slender woman's waist.

Together, they stood near the valet where Miles ostentatiously boasted, "I have the newest Mercedes LX. Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off at the hotel? I'll even let you take it for a spin."

"No, Miles," the woman replied through a gritted smile. "It's late and I have a lot of cracking down to do if I'm going to get you that information within twenty-four hours."

"You're a superstar," he winked but the woman didn't budge to his charm and instead folded her arms against her chest. "You can't be mad at me forever. I did all this for you."

A taxi pulled up and the girl uncrossed her arms and reached out for the door. Miles beat her to it, holding the door open for her. She gave him a skeptical look, then slid inside the back, grabbing the handle to close the door behind her when she stopped to give Miles one last look. There was an eager hopefulness in the young man's eyes that he had not seen in the eyes of many and it gave him a deep sense of pleasure to know that whatever he was involved in with this girl would be his last.

"I'm trusting that you'll keep up your end of the bargain."

"I may be a sell-out," replied Miles, slowly starting to close the door, "but I'm not a liar, Skye."

He came out of the shadows then just as the taxi pulled away. Miles slipped his hand into the pocket of his slacks, shuffling the contents inside until he tugged his phone free. Half-way through dialing, he stilled—the thin brown hairs on the back of his neck stood up—and he turned, moving his head first to glance over his shoulder, then the rest of his body followed after once he saw who was standing behind him.

Pocketing the cellphone into the breast of his suit's pocket, he cleared his throat then rubbed his fingers against the stubble along his jaw. "I was told you had business in California."

"I finished early," he replied, knowing it was the only reason he was in New York. Blinking, he tried to collect himself, not wanting to let Miles know that he was still disoriented from his latest escapade. "I have work to attend to here. Apparently someone is snooping around in my office."

"I can assure The Dark Knigthood—"

"You are not a knight, Miles," he spat, the words curling in his mouth at the thought of this smug American claiming such a title. "You are a pawn in their larger schemes. Don't forget that or your Rising Tide will be a falling one."

Adjusting the cufflinks at his wrists, Miles smirked, "I don't need to be reminded of that twice." He glanced down from his peripherals and shrugged both his eyebrows high. "But, as I recall, I don't take orders from you. Or from The Dark Knighthood for that matter."

"No, you just play their errand boy," the sweating man sneered, grateful that the night had relented and decided to cool off a few degrees at least. "I'm warning you, Miles, whatever it is that you're playing at will get you and that girl killed if you're not more careful."

"Valor—"

"Valor is dead," he smiled.

Miles stared at him, unblinking. He cocked his head to one side, as if accessing what he heard was truth, then shook his head and continued to adjust his cufflinks. "Doesn't matter. In the long run I had a different projective than what he had his eyes on. I run my own faction. I'm not ran by his." He cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to make sure no one around could hear him. "Who killed him?"

"Black Knight."

"Are you here to kill me too then?"

"You are of no concern to me. The girl, however, I've seen her through Valor's wall, the eyes of his spies have spotted her with the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent related to the last known man on Earth who had last touched Ebony Blade." He folded his arms across his chest, wishing he could change out of his tweed vest. It was suffocating and scratchy against his skin, agitating him even more than he already was. "So, now my question to you is, why are you talking with an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"She isn't an agent," he responded promptly, "she's a consultant and as far as I'm concerned that means free game. I was told to get information on Hayden Waltham and I'm using my resources. I have information she wants so we're dealing with a trade"

"Information on what, Miles?"

"On that Strohm girl. Why does it matter?"

"Because any information you give to an agent—consultant or not—is liable to come back to The Dark Knighthood. Especially when that person of information is a coveted member, you fool."

"Like I don't know that?" Miles scoffed, as if he were offended, "I know the dangers it imposes. It's not like I gave her anything of real use. But by the time she figures that out she'll already have given me what I need and I'll be long gone."

"You better hope that you're right."

"Everyone else might be afraid of you but without your armor you're nothing more than a scared, little nerd," Miles flicked his chest with a thick finger. "You were summoned because of The Dark Knighthood. If anyone is playing paperboy, it's you. Now," he finished with one last tug at his cufflinks and with a slow, deliberate wink, grinned, "I'll see you at Ragnarök, my friend."

Color swirled around and pulsated with out of tune voices that muffled together. Memories flooded through my mind, memories of someone else's life I had seen before of an old man creating a sword with steel as black as ice. More memories spilled in front of me, flashing by as if I were looking through a View-Master, flying through the still photos, one after another. There was one image that stuck in the back of my head of a cave, dark and stuffy with faint light burning off the torches that men dressed in knight's armor held high. The sword struck a glossy stone, spilling black ooze from the fresh wound, sealing itself around the blade like glue.

Then as quickly as they had come, the images faded into an empty room where I found myself sitting before a circle of knights at a round, wooden table. Beside me sat King Arthur, who I had recognized from the potion induced dream from Mr. Aaby. It had to have been the same thing, I concluded, glancing to the old man on my opposite side: Merlin, I noted, remembering how he had created Ebony Blade for Sir Percy to wield. It didn't make sense why I was sitting there, I hadn't touched the vial Mr. Aaby had given me since the last time. In fact, I wasn't even certain where it was and could have lost it in the scuffle at the beach before Bailey had betrayed me and Ward.

"Sir Merlin," spoke King Arthur, "What do we do with the blade now that we've lost Sir Percival?" he quietly asked, his voice was somber and there was a deep sorrow painted across his expression.

The older man rose to his feet, acknowledging the King with a simple nod. He was shorter than most of the men surrounding the round table and leaner with hardly any muscle underneath his suit of armor. His gray hair was combed over in wisps, curling around his deep blue eyes the color of the ocean at night beneath the pale moonlight.

Merlin turned to face King Arthur, gravely sighing as he turned to look at the knights staring at him with intense eyes ready for battle. He looked at each and every one of them, the corner of his lips tugged down further with each man he stared at until his gaze returned to Arthur.

"Hiding the blade will do more good than allowing the righteous to use it. Besides, we still have Excalibur," he said with a heavy heart, waving his wrinkled hands toward King Arthur's belt where the hilt of the intricate golden designs glinted underneath the flickering candlelight.

"Hide the blade?" grunted a tall, red man with a thick brown beard piling onto his gut. "That blade has spilled the blood of many evils in this realm. We cannot just hide it!"

"Aye," agreed another knight, his features were soft but his blue eyes were cold beneath his mop of dark hair. "Sir Percy was a brave, honorable man but surely he is not the only one."

"We cannot trust Ebony Blade to accidentally fall into the hands of the God of Mischief for Loki's curse would be a far greater crime than anyone else unworthy of the blade," Merlin continued, placing his knobby fingers onto the wooden table. He leaned forward, his voice quiet that the men had to strain to hear him as he spoke the word, "Ragnarök." Clearing his throat, he folded his hands atop one another and peered at them as if they were completely new to him. "The Twilight of the Gods will begin at the hand of Loki if we do not hide the blade from his grasp."

Then, as if Merlin was staring right at me—and not the man whose I eyes I was seeing through, but as though he were actually seeing me—said, "Do you understand the grave importance of why this blade must never touch the hands of Loki Laufeyson? Death will follow, the end of the gods will be nigh, and the Nine Realms as we know them will plunge into chaos. Do you truly understand the implications of what will come if The Dark Knighthood has their way?"

I was pulled out of my seat as if I had been tossed out a window from a train wreck and found myself sitting on a floral bed with Loki at my side. He and I remained completely clean and free of any cuts and burn marks. His hard green stare was on the man in front of us, a friendly smile greeted us, and I wasn't certain if I wanted to return it or simply stare like Loki had.

Eventually, I opted to stare, before jumping off the bed to shout, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

"A spell laced within the vials I had given each of you to drink," Mr. Aaby explained, shoving his hands into his pocket. "I thought I would see you both much sooner than I am seeing you now. I didn't think it'd take you two that long to kiss!"

"What are you talking about?" I exasperatedly asked, crossing my arms against my chest.

What was going on? Where were we? Was this real? Or was it just a dream I was having while my body was being burnt to a crisp? I shuddered at the thought, pushing away the images of being lost in some sort of purgatory.

"I gave you a vial, filled with one section of my memories and I gave Loki the other. When you two kissed, the images collided and you both shared the final memory of sealing the blade away," he replied, walking toward where Loki sat and I stood. "I couldn't speak to you in person and this was the only way I knew I could speak without anyone overhearing."

"We are dreaming?" Loki asked, his tone was flat and I glanced over at him, surprised to see there was no emotion on his face.

Mr. Aaby shook his head. "It's real. This conversation is taking place as we speak. Only we're in a veiled world created through very strong and dark magic." Swallowing hard, he glanced to Loki then to me before continuing, "We have a lot to talk about."

Extending his wrinkled hand, Mr. Aaby permitted himself a small smile, "Hayden Waltham," he said in a light tone, "Loki Laufeyson. Allow me to introduce myself." He placed his hand on his chest and closed his cloudy blue eyes, heavily sighing before he spoke again. "I am Merlin."

Reviews:

Suzy P: Okay, not going to lie. I had gone so long between updating chapters I completely plot-holed and forgot about Thor. But your questions made me feel like a dork and I was able to remedy the situation, since I had planned for him to make his appearance with Hayden around the time she learned the truth about her father. And thank you! I'm glad you've enjoyed what you've read so far. Thanks for sticking with it to the end.

kieekaa: Okay. There you go. Anything else?

Jangamon: Thank you! Haha. It was fun to write.

bretagne18: Aw, thanks! Sorry they go on for so long, with summer coming to an end though I'll probably wind down and actually write more. Since I really can't wait to get to the end of this story. When I was writing the Grendel that was the scene I had shared with my friend (since she had never watched the show) and she said the same thing, so that makes me really happy because I didn't want it ABC family friendly haha.

ReadingConundrum: I tried! That was my goal. So I want to say sorry. But I'm not sorry. Haha. I'm glad you enjoyed it Holly (: be ready for even more aaaaah scenes.