“But why?”
Sorrow filled her black eyes. “Because Loki tricked me into helping him escape all those centuries ago. Because I believed he was truly sorry for orchestrating Balder’s murder. Because I thought he had really changed and wanted to be a better person, instead of trying to bend us all to his will. If I hadn’t been so foolish, none of this would have happened. So much pain and suffering could have been avoided. So much . . . loss.”
She stared down at her former husband, who was still on his knees in the middle of the marble floor. “So I decided to devote myself to setting things right, to making up for my mistake as best I could. And I finally have, with your help.”
She stepped toward me and held out her hand. I realized that she wanted Vic, and I handed the sword over to her. Sigyn stared at the blade a moment, then sliced her palm open on it before handing Vic back to me.
She walked over to Loki and stared down at him again.
“I’m sorry that it had to come to this,” Sigyn said in a soft voice. “But you gave me no choice.”
Loki glared at her, but he didn’t say anything.
Sigyn sighed, so much sadness in that one soft sound, as if she felt all of the evil Loki had done more intensely than anyone else. In a way, I supposed she did. Then, she clenched her hand into a tight fist until blood dripped out from between her fingers.
Plop . . . plop . . . plop . . .
One by one, the drops of her blood hit the mistletoe bracelet still wrapped around Loki’s wrist. He hissed and struggled with all his might, but some invisible force held him in place. Strangely enough, it felt like that same old, watchful, knowing force I had sensed around Grandma Frost so many times when she was having one of her visions of the future. Somehow, I knew that it was Nike’s victory magic at work.
Finally, Sigyn stepped back.
“There,” she said in a tired voice. “It’s done. The mistletoe is bound on him, and he is bound here—forever.”
“And now,” Nike murmured. “For the final step.” She waved her hand. I blinked, and Loki was gone,
and the floor was empty again. I whirled around and around, but Nike placed a hand on my shoulder and pointed up to the second-floor balcony. For as long as I’d been at Mythos, there had been a lone, empty spot there in the circular pantheon of the gods—an open space where Loki’s statue would have been.
But now, the god himself stood in that spot.
Nike, Sigyn, and I looked up at him, and I realized that we weren’t the only ones in the library anymore. All of the statues had turned their heads in his direction, and they weren’t statues anymore, but real, live people.
Real gods and goddesses.
My breath caught in my throat, even as I tried to look everywhere at once at all of the figures I’d read about in my myth-history books, since they’d all come to life right before my eyes. Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess, with her sleek, feline body. Athena, the Greek goddess, with her wise, solemn features. Coyote, the Native American trickster deity, with his wide, mischievous grin. And hundreds of others from all the cultures of the world.
All gathered here to watch this—Loki’s final defeat and punishment.
“We have all agreed as to what his fate is,” Sigyn said. “He has brought this upon himself.”
One by one, all of the gods and goddesses nodded their heads in agreement, giving their approval for what was to come.
“Eir,” Nike said. “If you will be so kind, please.”
On the balcony above, a goddess stepped forward. Black hair, green eyes, pale skin. I recognized her from my trip to Colorado—Eir, the Norse goddess of healing and mercy. The one who had given me the silver laurel leaves and the mistletoe bracelet.
Eir stepped forward and held out her hands. A force rippled off her, shot through the air, and slammed into Loki on the far side of the balcony.
The evil god let out a scream, and I realized that the mistletoe bracelet around his wrist was glowing with an intense silver light.
And then it started to spread.
I watched as the mistletoe sprouted, and more and more vines slowly began to curl out of the bracelet, reach up, and wrap around his body. Loki screamed and screamed, but there was nothing he could do to stop the slow, steady onslaught. The vines quickly crept up his arms, trapping his hands against his sides before climbing up his chest and neck. He tried to keep his face up out of the greenery, but the vines wrapped around his head, pulling it down, before swallowing him whole. After a while, even his screams faded away to nothingness.
That silver light flared a final time, pulsing brighter and more intensely than ever before, and I had to close my eyes against the burning brightness.
When the light faded away, and I finally opened my eyes again, I realized that another statue had been added to the pantheon—Loki.
His head was down, and his eyes narrowed, as though he were glaring at the mistletoe bracelet on his wrist, the source of all the vines that had wrapped themselves around him. But he was solid stone, even while the other gods and goddesses still showed their true forms. I let out a long, tired breath.
And just like that, it was done, and Loki was locked away—forever.
Chapter 31
“So it is done,” Nike finally said in a loud, booming voice, echoing my own thoughts. “Forever.”
One by one, the other gods and goddesses nodded their heads at her before stepping back and slowly melting into their stone forms once more. In an instant, only Nike, Sigyn, Vic, and I were left in the library.
“What’s going on?” I said, staring up at the pantheon. “What’s happening? Why are they leaving?”
“The Twilight of the Gods is upon us, Ragnarok, some mortals call it. Either way, the gods are withdrawing from the mortal world,” Nike said, glancing at Sigyn. “With a few notable exceptions, of course.”
A faint grin pulled up Sigyn’s lips. “Some of us still have work to do.”
Nike returned her grin. “And warriors to mold. Spartans in particular.”
Sigyn’s smile widened. “Something like that.”
“But why?” I asked, totally not understanding their cryptic talk.
“Because we have caused too much damage here over too many years,” Nike said. “Too much pain, too much sorrow, and too much death. We will not risk that happening again. We will not risk another god trying to rise up and enslave everyone as Loki attempted to. It was a mutual decision.”
I knew that what she was saying made sense, but I couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss and longing all the same. Because the gods’ withdrawing from the world meant that Nike would leave too. She’d been such a big part of my life these last few months. I didn’t always agree with the goddess, and I’d long since grown tired of her games and riddles, but I also didn’t want to lose her the way I had my mom and Nott.