Loki by Katherine Locke

Author:Katherine Locke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

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NIGHTMARE STOOD in a misty wood, his eyes glowing in the dim light. He approached the scrying pool in the grove. He liked the solitary nature of his work. He liked knowing that he alone among the fear-lords knew his worth, knew his potential, and was willing to take the steps toward seeing that future come to pass.

The Serpent was dead. Fallen in a foolish attempt to usurp the fear-lord throne. Still, Nightmare could appreciate what he’d accomplished. When the Serpent died, his harvested fear energies hadn’t gone with him. They had washed across the world, sliding into minds and bodies unsuspecting. Nightmare knew the power in that energy once it was amassed. Fragmented across many people, it was nearly useless. But if he could harvest it, if he could consume it… he’d be unstoppable.

Fear-stuff gathered part to part, like to like, liquid slipping across a surface to swallow a droplet. Fear-stuff called to Nightmare as it gathered within people, clotting and sticking to the insides of minds and subconsciousness. Within people, there was no smooth surface to glide across—the fear-stuff stuck, gummy and tacky. Nightmare wanted a device, a tool, to scrape the fear-stuff from inside minds, like cleaning old caulk from a bathroom wall. He didn’t care about the damage he’d do to the surface beneath, so long as it freed up the fear-stuff and channeled it into himself.

Nightmare was greedy and ambitious. He was also prone to dramatics and theatrics. He might have worked in stealth, but he didn’t intend to stay in the shadows and hide his deceit and ambition from his siblings.

He snapped his fingers. “A crown.”

No one heard him, of course. If words are spoken in a forest of fear, no one hears them. But still, Nightmare grinned at his own cleverness. Subtext was after all the greater part of dreams. He’d forge the crown of raw fear-stuff, siphoning dread into himself, and it’d make him more powerful than any fear lord in history.

The Serpent had dreamed, but not big enough.

Nightmare would not make that mistake.

He scraped fear-stuff from the afflicted dreamers, staying one step ahead of Hellstrom and delighting in the chase. It was a hunt, a puzzle and a game to find people Hellstrom hadn’t found yet.

But it was a coup to find Loki. Loki sleeping and dreaming, full of more fear-stuff than any other dreamer Nightmare had found. But it was hidden deep in the boy’s subconscious. Nightmare couldn’t just reach into the little god’s mind and siphon off the stuff at the cost of his life. He needed to trick the boy into showing him to the heart of his subconscious, letting him past all the guards and gates of his mind…

He was almost there. Almost there.

Then, as if someone was narrating his life from the outside, Nightmare heard another voice in his head. A curious, cheerful voice.

“You’re not Leah.”

Ripped away from something he could almost taste.

Nightmare grasped at his head, leaning over the scrying pool. He fell to his knees.

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