Chương 81: The Fox on the Lawn

I walked outside with a cup of coffee and found a fox sitting at the bottom of the porch steps. It had green eyes and was sitting perfectly still. A wild fox would have reacted differently. This one looked like it had been waiting for me.

"Morning," I said, because I didn't know what else to say to a fox that was clearly not just a fox. Just to be sure though, I adjusted my vision, something I'd recently learned I was able to do. I felt a little stupid that it had taken me so long to realize I could see mana if I focused. Even Pierre could do it. What I saw annoyed me since I could clearly see it had more mana than Mort and about the same as Tala, which made him a god. Sighing, I waited for it to respond.

The only response I got was that it flinched. It actually flinched, like I'd thrown something at him. Then it lowered its head until its chin touched the ground and spoke in a smooth voice that carried an accent I couldn't place.

"Great Noyasunai. Trickster King. He Who Made Raven Kneel and Coyote Heel. I am called Loki. I come seeking audience. If it pleases you." I stared at the fox and thought about going back inside for a nap. It was way too early for this.

"Did you just call me 'He Who Made Raven Kneel?'" I asked.

"It is one of your titles, Great One. Among many."

"Yeah, I don't like those titles," I said, suddenly in a bad mood. Is Loki trying to sow discord between Coyote, Raven, and myself? I wondered. The fox blinked. His mouth opened and then closed. I watched him try to process this and fail.

"Anyway, let's not talk about the identity thief or the road runner's stalker," I said as I tried to figure out what Loki was trying to do. I'd expected him to arrive, but not like this.

"I see," Loki said after a moment, his voice carefully neutral.

"Of course."

"You don't see but that's fine." I plopped down on my bottom and took a sip of coffee.

"You said Loki. Like, the Loki? Norse mythology, Ragnarök, the whole thing?"

"I prefer not to discuss Ragnarök," he said, and his voice changed. The trembling got worse.

"That is, in fact, part of why I'm here." Before I could respond, Rocket popped out through the doggie door.

"Boss!" Rocket yelled like the fox wasn't sitting right in front of me.

"There's a fox! Should I get the paintball gun?"

"No," I said, holding a paw out while closing my eyes.

"Just go back inside," I added, wondering why in the world I thought it was a good idea to let them watch my television. Apparently, there was only so much 'Dragon Tales' they could watch. Rocket retreated, casting suspicious looks over his shoulder. Loki stared at the doorway.

"Your sentinels."

"My headaches." I drank more coffee.

"Stand up. You're getting dirt on your chin and it's making me uncomfortable." Loki rose, but kept his head low.

"Come on up," I said, nodding toward the porch.

"Talk to me like a normal person. Drop the 'Great One' stuff." He climbed the steps like he was approaching a gallows. I recognized that caution. Tala dropped from the roof onto the porch railing beside me. He's not a threat, she sent the thought to me. Outloud, she said, "He's been in the tree line for three days," not bothering to whisper. Loki's ears went flat.

"You knew."

"Since you arrived," Tala said.

"You hide better than most." I looked at her.

"And you didn't mention this because?"

"I wanted to see what he'd do. He watched and didn't approach or attack. He didn't try to manipulate anyone." She cracked a nut.

"That's unusual for a trickster. I was curious." Loki stood on the porch now looking between me and Tala like he was trying to solve a math problem that kept changing its answer.

"Okay, Loki," I said.

"Cards on the table. Why are you here? And I mean the real reason, not the 'seeking audience' formality stuff. What do you actually want?" He was quiet for a moment. I could see him wrestling with something. I could literally see the instinct to spin a story fighting against whatever had brought him here in the first place.

"I want to not be alone when the end comes," he said. SINCERITY. The porch went quiet.

"The Norse endgame," he continued, his voice losing its careful polish.

"Ragnarök. It's not a story anymore. The Aesir are fracturing. My own pantheon thinks I'm the enemy because the stories say I'm supposed to be." He swallowed.

"I've spent twelve centuries trying to prevent it. I can't do it alone anymore."

"And you think I can help with that? I'm a raccoon who accidentally started a religion." This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"You're a being who has united Raven, Coyote, and Grandmother Spider under a single banner. Whether you intended to or not." He paused.

"No one has done that. No one has even tried."

"I didn't try either. It just happened," I admitted. Still, I felt a tug of sympathy for the guy. I knew how it felt to get dragged into things you didn't want to be associated with.

"Yes. That's what makes it remarkable," Loki said, obviously unable to stop the flattery. Probably habitual, I thought. I looked at him for a long time. Even in fox form, he gave off the impression of someone who'd been running for a very long time and was looking for a place to stop.

"You hungry?" I asked. He blinked.

"I, what?"

"Hungry. When's the last time you ate something that wasn't hunted on the run?" Absently, I wondered what he'd end up eating. We didn't have any meat in the fridge, but we had almost everything else.

"I don't, I'm not sure how that's relevant," Loki said, confusion appearing on his face. I smiled, impressed with myself. I was really starting to get the hang of reading animals' faces. Instead of gloating, though, I said, "It's relevant because you look like hell and I'm not having a conversation about the end of the world with someone who's about to keel over." Then I stood up and waddled toward the doggie door.

"Come inside. We've got some fruit and leftover rice from last night. Tala, do we still have those veggie wraps?"

"Pierre ate the last one," Tala said, glancing warily at Loki, clearly not entirely sure it was best to invite him inside.

"Of course he did." I stopped just before the doggie door.

"Loki, you coming or are you going to stand on my porch shaking all day?" He didn't move for a moment. I could see the calculations running. He was probably wondering, "Is this a trap?"

"It's just food," I said.

"Not a peace treaty."

"With a trickster," Loki murmured, almost to himself, "everything is a peace treaty."

"I'm not a trickster. I'm a retired prepper who died and woke up as a raccoon. The trickster stuff is everyone else's idea." I held the door flap open with my paw.

"You coming?" He came. Inside, the cabin was its usual mess. Rocket and Groot were whispering in the hallway, obviously spying. Mort was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was either in the Liminal Lands or stealing something. Loki stood in the middle of the living room and turned in a slow circle, taking everything in. I looked around myself, putting myself in his shoes. I barely repressed a small growl as I noticed the claw marks on the furniture. Yep, lots of animals can really mess up a cabin, I realized.

I grabbed some fruit and dumped it into a bowl. I then pushed the bowl across the coffee table toward Loki. He stared at it like it might explode.

"It's fruit," I said.

"From a bowl in the kitchen. Eat it or don't, but stop looking at it like I'm trying to poison you." He ate, although carefully at first. I watched him and said nothing. Some things don't need commentary. When he finished, he sat very still, staring at the empty bowl.

"Thank you," he said quietly. My guess was that he didn't get a lot of offerings. That or he was still confused. From what I could gather, with the recent explosion of Loki appearances in movies, it affected how people viewed him, which in turn affected what he was.

"No problem," I said as I sat in my recliner. Tala settled on the armrest beside me.

"So. Ragnarök. I'm not going to be your ally against the Norse gods, but I will allow you to stay here. What exactly are you offering in return, though? Because I've got enough freeloaders."

"I can offer shapeshifting expertise," he said.

"Illusion magic. I have centuries of experience in divine politics, espionage, and strategic misdirection." He paused.

"I'm also very good at identifying traps, having spent most of my existence walking into them."

"That's actually useful," I admitted.

"The politics part especially. I've got a government agency trying to build a framework around this place and I don't know the first thing about negotiating with bureaucracies."

"Bureaucracies are my specialty." A ghost of something that wasn't quite a smile crossed his face. I looked at Tala. She looked at me. We'd been together long enough that the conversation didn't need words. He's scared, she sent through the bond. I know, I replied. He's also not lying about Ragnarök. I can feel it. Whatever's coming, he believes it's real, Tala sent. I know that too, I said as I wondered what new hell I had just invited into my home. You're going to let him stay, she said. It wasn't a question.

"Okay," I said, turning back to Loki.

"Here's the deal. You can stay. Not as a servant and not as a subject. You stay as a guest. You help out. You don't lie to me, and before you say you're a trickster and lying is what you do, I'll point out that I've got a divine squirrel who can smell deception through walls and a Web of Wisdom that lights up when someone's being dishonest. So don't bother." Loki's ears twitched.

"You have a truth detection system."

"I have a headache detection system. Lies give me headaches. Don't give me headaches," I threatened. Technically, that wasn't true, but so far, the threads were all telling me he was being forthright.

"I will endeavor not to," Loki said, almost as if I was asking him to give up his first-born child.

"Good. You can sleep in the living room for now. We'll figure out something more permanent if you stick around." I picked up my coffee.

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"If Ragnarök starts happening, you give me warning. Real warning. Not trickster hints and riddles. Straight talk. If something's coming, I need to know in time to protect my people. Deal?" Something shifted in his expression. Something that looked a lot like the moment Pierre had first called me a friend instead of a great spirit. The moment where formality cracked and something real showed through underneath.

"Deal," he said.

"Good." I stood up.

"Tala, tell Rocket that the new guest is not a spy, not an enemy combatant, and absolutely not a target for paintball practice."

"I'll tell him," Tala said.

"He won't listen, but I'll tell him."

"We heard," Groot said.

"I mean, I am Groot." I sighed and called out to the kids, "Your shift is over. Why don't you two report to Bambi?" I had to do something to get them out of my hair, at least for a while. Anyway, Bambi was the one responsible for sending them to me in the first place. They quickly trampled through the room, clearly eager to deliver the news. Hopefully, they won't get it too wrong, I thought as I mentally crossed my fingers.

"Good enough," I said, heading to the bathroom. I needed a nice long soak. Tala tagged along behind me. I was about to object but then thought, Fuck it, and let her join me. I left Loki standing in my living room holding an empty fruit bowl and looking like someone had just pulled the rug out from under every assumption he'd carried. Good. Maybe he'd figure out that there was no rug in the first place. Just a raccoon, a cabin, and a lot of strays who needed somewhere to land.

Tala's voice echoed in my head, quite smug, You're collecting another one, but that's okay. You're about to make it up to me. I didn't answer. She was right, though. She usually was.