“We technically have other names at the moment,” said Josiah, “but everyone knows we’re Loki and Heimdallr, really. They just sort of live with it. Medieval Swedes are funny that way.”
Freddy was foggily unsurprised that Cuerva Lachance was a red-headed male Viking now. She didn’t even doubt that Loki was Cuerva Lachance. The headache made everything besides itself seem unreal and therefore completely reasonable. Still, there were some details that bore explanation. “But he’s a he.”
“He is sometimes,” said Josiah. “Sometimes she’s a she. I have a distinct and painful memory of the time she took it into her head to spend seventeen years as a six-year-old girl.”
“I enjoyed that,” said Loki dreamily. “It puzzled the tribal elders ever so much.”
Heimdallr made a comment. Josiah nodded. “Heimdallr thinks it would be easier if we just started at the beginning.”
“Always taking the logical way out,” said Loki, and added something in the incomprehensible language.
Josiah and Heimdallr threw him identical unfriendly glances. It didn’t look as if Heimdallr was any less impatient with Loki than Josiah was with Cuerva Lachance. They’re the same people, she had to tell herself. Loki and Heimdallr … Cuerva Lachance and Josiah. They’re … very, very old people. Again, only the headache let this make sense.
“Okay, look,” said Josiah, “we’ve known you for a while, okay?”
Freddy took another sip. She hoped it wasn’t her imagination that the headache was finally beginning, ever so slightly, to subside. “When you say a while, you mean…?”
Loki and Josiah looked at each other. Both shrugged together. “Quite a while,” said Loki.
“Almost as far back as I can remember,” said Josiah. “Which is a long way.”
“You mean, since the Vikings?” said Freddy cautiously.
There was another exchange of glances. “Well, no,” said Josiah.
“We go back a bit farther than this,” said Loki.
She didn’t really want to know, but the question had to be asked. “How far?”
“Far,” said Josiah.
“Every once in a while,” said Loki, “you and Josiah will appear out of thin air, hang around for a bit, and vanish. It’s happened many times that I can remember, and I’ve heard Three mention other times where you showed up and I wasn’t around.”
“We always knew we would get to the point where it would actually have to happen to me,” said Josiah. “I’ve been waiting all my life to run into you. Not looking forward to it, mind. It’s a confounded bloody nuisance. I’d rather be in math class. Well, possibly not.”
“But,” said Freddy. She had the feeling there were several monstrously huge things she was missing here. “But how old are you?”
“Fourteen,” said Josiah.
“You can’t be,” said Freddy. “You used to be him.”
“He’s also fourteen,” said Josiah. “Get it? I’m always fourteen. Never younger. Never older. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve lived; I’m fourteen. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be fourteen forever?”
“Uh,” said Freddy.
“You’re fourteen now.” Josiah waved his hands distractedly in the air. “Imagine this year of your life went on for five years. Now imagine it went on for fifty years. Now imagine it went on for a hundred years. Now imagine—”
“Okay, okay,” said Freddy, “you’re fourteen.”
“It makes him bad-tempered at times,” said Loki. “I’ve tried to persuade him to try some other age, but no. Apparently, there are rules.”
“Just because you ignore them doesn’t mean they’re not there,” said Josiah.
“There’ve always been the two of us,” said Loki, leaning back and clasping his hands over his knees. “I’m not sure how far back it goes; I don’t remember the bit at the beginning. I’m sure it was very exciting, though.”
“He bends the rules,” said Josiah. “I uphold them. It’s always been that way.”
The headache was definitely growing less. As it dwindled, the panic rose. Freddy tried to postpone it by dealing with the outrageous lie Josiah had just told. “You uphold what rules? What about school?”
Josiah’s face went vicious. “School doesn’t count. Oh, it thinks it’s all about rules, but it’s wrong. Go to class. Sit in rows. Mind the teacher. Mindless dictates that mean nothing and are more chaotic than the chaos they’re meant to stave off. The rules of your society say fourteen-year-olds have to go to school, but they don’t say they can’t devote all their energy to getting kicked out.”
“In an odd way,” Loki said, “Heimdallr always follows the rules, even when he seems not to.”
In Norse mythology, Heimdallr was the guardian of the fiery rainbow bridge that led to the world of the gods. It made sense that the person who had served as the model for him would be a stickler for rules. Loki, on the other hand, was the god of mischief, who would supposedly bring about the end of the world. Freddy had a growing suspicion she was in over her head here. “So what are you guys?”
Loki cocked his head. “We’re us.”
She looked at Josiah, but he just shrugged again. “Yep.”
“Gods?” said Freddy. “Demons? Elves? Angels? People who drank some magical water?”
“None of the above, as far as we know,” said Loki. “Do you always have to put things in little categories?”
“Yes,” said Freddy, but she changed direction. “You said you’d seen me a lot of times.”
“Quite a lot,” said Loki. “Isn’t the fire making an interesting pattern on the wall?”
“Twelve centuries, and still no attention span,” said Josiah under his breath.
“Don’t deflect,” snapped Freddy. “Why can’t we just go home?”
“We can’t,” said Josiah. “There are rules … understand? Time travel is impossible.”
“I bet he can do it,” said Freddy, jerking her chin at Loki.
Loki tore his attention from the patterns. “I couldn’t deprive you of the strange and wonderful adventure on which you are about to embark,” he said, making his eyes big and innocent. “Besides, I clearly don’t help you at this point. I wish I had a biscuit.”
Freddy glared at Josiah. “You say time travel is impossible, and then you say we pop in and out of history—”
“There are slightly less impossible ways we can manage,” Josiah conceded, “but it’s going to take us some effort to get back.”
“How much effort?” asked Freddy. “How long are we going to be … whatever this is?”
There were way too many significant glances being thrown around. She sat up properly, despite her head. “Just tell me.”
“I don’t know,” said Josiah. When she glared at him some more, he threw up his hands. “It’s true. I could tell you about all the encounters I remember, but as Loki said, there are others I don’t. And when we came—I mean, even if I did know, it would be better for you to know as little as possible. If I tell you what you’re going to do, you’ll fight it pointlessly. Things go wrong when people start thinking of the past as something they can change.”