Chương 79: Loki Arrives

Loki I arrived in the Ozarks quietly with three contingency plans for immediate retreat. The portal I'd carved between the realms was small. It was barely two feet across. I'd opened it from a waystation between Svartalfheim and the mortal plane. It wasn't comfortable, but it was private. The air on the other side of the portal was thick with mana. It was richer than anything I'd tasted since the old days in Asgard. The mana tide that had swept the mortal world was concentrated here. I shifted into a red fox.

It was the kind of animal that belonged in these woods. Then I closed the portal behind me and started moving downhill. I'd come to find the new king of the tricksters. The stories in the trickster networks had come out of nowhere. At first, I hadn't paid attention. Trickster networks were always buzzing with rumors, new gods, fallen gods, power shifts, and territory disputes. Most of it was just gossip or flat out lies. No sane being would believe everything they heard from another trickster.

But the Ozarks rumors were different. They were consistent. And they came from sources that didn't seem to exaggerate. Considering exaggeration and deceit were staples for us, I knew something was up. A reincarnated raccoon was at the center of it. He'd been blessed by Grandmother Spider. Far be it for me to criticize the strange births of any divine being, but hearing that Azeban, Coyote, and Raven had a baby together was unexpected. That alone would have been noteworthy. New tricksters emerged periodically.

Most burned out fast. A few lasted centuries. Rarely did they attract attention from the elder gods. But then the other stories started. Raven was serving as his herald. He was making videos on the mortal internet using the raccoon's human dead body. He was spreading the raccoon's name across the world. Coyote had voted to name him king. This was the Coyote who acknowledged no one's authority. He usually treated hierarchy as a punchline. Even Grandmother Spider had blessed him personally.

And then the messages started circulating through the back channels. They were warnings. They also came from someone who knew how to make information flow in specific directions without leaving fingerprints, which wasn't easy. The messages said that the new king was consolidating his power. Azeban and Nanabozho had quickly stepped aside. He'd subjugated Raven and Coyote. The story was that he wasn't what he appeared to be, so be cautious and afraid. I wasn't stupid enough to take the messages at face value.

I'd been playing information games since before the Norse sagas were written. I recognized manipulation when I saw it. But I was also smart enough to be afraid anyway. If even half the stories were true, the being living in these mountains was the most significant new trickster in recorded history. And in my experience, significant tricksters were either allies or threats, with very little middle ground. I needed to see for myself, which I did. I spent the first day watching. The cabin had been easy to find.

The mana signature was a beacon. Divine energy radiated outward in waves. They were strong enough that even a minor god like me could feel it from miles away. I settled into a hollow beneath an oak tree on a ridge overlooking the property and observed. The cabin itself was modest. It was the typical log cabin with the exception of solar panels. It was also was being repaired by a construction crew. There was also a detached garage to one side. The first being I catalogued was the werewolf.

It didn't seem intimidating at first, especially since it was wearing sequined purple clothing that glittered in the afternoon sun. However, he moved with the easy confidence of a champion. He was carrying groceries from a truck and humming something off-key. The second being was the squirrel. She appeared on the porch railing while the werewolf unloaded bags. She was large for a squirrel, but the divine energy she carried was equivalent to most of the Aesir I'd known.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. She was eating a nut and watching the tree line with the casual vigilance of someone who could kill everything within a mile radius and was choosing not to. I pressed myself deeper into the hollow and held very, very still. Normally, I wouldn't worry about such a threat, but something about her made me cautious. There was definitely more to her than met the eye. More than likely, she was hiding much of her power. Then her ears twitched.

She looked in my direction. It wasn't at me, but in the general area. Then she went back to her nut. I didn't breathe for approximately four minutes. The third being was the dragon, an actual baby dragon. How in Hel's cold embrace did he manage to steal a dragon's egg. Even if Odin covered his other eye he'd be able to tell that its parents had to be something special. The fact that the raccoon had managed to successfully steal one of their precious eggs was a testament to his power.

He didn't even seem to care about it and was treating it like a pet. The gold dragon in question was in the garage sorting pennies and plastic trinkets. What was just as impressive was the fact that it seemed happy. Either the baby dragon was an idiot or the raccoon had brainwashed it somehow. Then the opossum arrived. It waddled into the garage, eyed the dragon's penny collection, and began sidling toward the nearest stack. \ Curious, I sent my senses forward. If I got caught, I was far enough away to retreat.

If not, maybe I would find something out.

"Mort," the dragon said without looking up.

"No."

"I wasn't going to," the opossum started to say before it was interrupted.

"You were," the dragon said.

"Lifna needs copper for her magnetic field," Mort said, obviously trying to trick a dragon out of its hoard. Your skull's as hollow as a frost giant's promises, I thought. Still, I had to admire the large balls on such a small creature.

"My pennies, Mort," the dragon said. That was typical for dragons since they were always greedy bastards. The opossum retreated, acting as if he was offended. He waddled toward a shadow in the corner of the garage and vanished into it. It wasn't invisibility. Rather, it was a dimensional transit. The opossum had stepped through a shadow into what felt like a private pocket dimension. I stared at the empty shadow for a long time. What have I walked into?

I thought as I continued to watch, trying to figure out what was true and what was false. Knowledge is power, and I deserve power. On the second day, I found the church. The trees were taller and greener than they should be. Mushrooms glowed faintly and the animals seemed far too evolved. Almost every single creature I ran into had mutated in some way. The church was in a clearing dominated by an enormous sycamore tree. I smelled it before I saw it.

There were hundreds of animals there, all actively rushing around with a purpose or praying in front of a taxidermied raccoon. By Odin's blind spot, I almost blurted out. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was extraordinary. It wasn't like Asgard, but it was something. A young deer stood beneath the sycamore, speaking to a gathered group of animals. She glowed with divine energy. It wasn't the raw, crackling power of an elder god, but the steady warmth of genuine faith.

She was talking about forgiveness and second chances. She also spoke about finding value in what the world discards. The congregation believed every word. At the base of the sycamore were stone statues. They were birds made out of concrete, granite and marble. They were positioned around the tree like sentinels. Then one of them moved. The stone hawk swiveled its head, scanning the tree line with eyes that were chips of dark rock but unmistakably alive. They were like gargoyles, living stone guardians.

And they were possessed by dead souls. I could feel it now. There were spirits inhabiting the stone statues. These were fallen faithful, given new bodies and eternal purpose. The raccoon had created guardian constructs for his church. I backed away from the clearing slowly, my heart hammering. Coyote, and even Raven, had some power over the undead, but neither of them had turned it into a religion. While I might be able to get my daughter Hel to release a few souls, I didn't have the power to do so myself.

This new trickster, not only had the power, but also had big enough balls to actually use the powers. Hades and Hel were probably pissed. For some reason, this made me smile, something I rarely did these days. Ragnarök was fast approaching. Sighing, I pushed the unwelcome thought aside. Instead, I focused on the fact that Noyasunai was apparently powerful enough that he could tweak his nose at all of the other death gods. Ah, you've found the one boundary even I haven't broken.

How delightfully irresponsible, I thought. At the same time, I wondered how I could turn this to my advantage. Maybe this new god can rewrite the final battle. In twelve hundred years, I'd seen many things, such as Odin sacrificing his eye for wisdom or Thor splitting mountains. I'd never seen a god build a church guarded by the animated dead and populated by predators and prey living in peace. It was unprecedented. Every other god had ignored animals and sought human believers. What am I going to see next?

I wondered.