Under the Goddess Moon Chapter 7

When the sun was setting Maeve set to work, dragging the chairs and garden furniture outside her gvan around to clear a wide space around the fire pit. She gathered various articles off her altar, setting them aside along with some fragrant smelling bundles of dry plants, a large bowl of salt, a plot of blood red powder and a black handled blade. Then she spent a good deal of time in the shower, more heady smells of herbs seeping through the cracks around the door in the steam. When she emerged she was dressed in cream linen trousers and a vest top, devoid of all jewellery, her hair loose and dangling down her back. Loki stood outside watching her as she lit a fire, wandering around shoeless as usual as she laid everything out on the ground carefully, then beckoned him over with a wave.

"I have a few rules," she said as she looked up at him. "The first, most important one is do not step out of the circle at any time. This sort of magic is very strong and it attracts attention. The second is don't touch anything unless I say. Third if that if you want to stop at any time, just say. Alright."

Loki nodded slowly.

"I understand," he said softly.

"Thank you. You might want to sit, we could be here a while."

He settled on the ground, forearms resting on his knees as he watched her silently. She picked up the salt, walking around the fire pit in a wide circle and pouring a stream of it on the ground as she went until they were fully enclosed. As she moved she chanted softly and when done with the salt she threw the bundles of herbs into the fire, sending billows of powerful smoke into the sky. Picking up the black hilted knife, she passed it through the smoke, the chanting gaining speed, and she moved round the space to stop at each compass point, raising her arms skyward each time, blade glinting.

Finally she knelt on the ground opposite him, her eyes catching the moonlight. Pulling the black stone pentacle over in front of her she muttered an invocation under her breath, then brushed her hair away from her face.

Loki rested his chin in his palm as he watched her., She seemed almost unaware of his presence as she worked. She was focused intently, tipping some of the crimson powder onto the disc along with salt again, some water from the chalice and a handful of dust from the ground beneath her. Then she picked up the ritual knife once more and taking a deep breath, pressed the tip into her palm, hissing softly through her teeth as she pierced the skin.

Loki almost grabbed her wrist to stop her as she drew the blade along her hand, making cut about an inch long. Rich, dark blood oozed forth, looking black in the moonlight. She held her hand over the pentacle, pumping her fingers until four of five fat drops had landed on the stone. Using her fingertips she mixed everything into a paste, then lifted a smouldering sprig out of the fire and touched it to the mixture. It sputtered, thin reeds of smoke rising from it for a moment as the dragon's blood powder burned. Once it was cooled she looked up at Loki, then held her hand out to him.

"Show me your palm," she said softly. He couldn't help but smirk slightly as he lay his hand in hers. She dipped her fingertip in the paste, then bent her head low to concentrate. She traced a rune onto his palm carefully, her touch feather-light, occasionally dabbing more paste onto her finger. When it was done she whispered almost inaudibly over it;

"Algiz. Maeve wrote this and so it is done…"

For a second Loki thought his suspicions had been confirmed, that it would do nothing, before he suddenly felt the symbol burn white hot. Instinctively he tried to jerk away but Maeve held onto his hand, her voice gentle as she said,

"Wait, wait, it's alright."

The warmth spread rapidly from his palm, up his arm and over his whole body. He felt light headed, his vision blurring, drunk on the spell. Trying to focus, he could almost see the sigil giving off a pale red luminescence. He slumped forwards and Maeve caught him by the shoulders, carefully lowering him to lay down.

"It's alright, just breathe slowly. You just need grounding," she said softly, guiding him to lay with his forehead on the ground. She threw the rest of the paste into the fire, then rubbed the pentacle with dust to clean away the residue. Then she lay beside Loki, taking his hand. They remained still and silent for a long time, the fire growing lower, flames falling to deep red embers. Eventually he managed to turn his head and look at her, small and white on the ground, her hair fanning out around her.

"What did you do?" he asked in a thin voice.

"I put you under my protection," she said with a warm smile. "Just rest for a little while. You'll stop feeling peculiar in a bit, promise. I'm going to close the circle, alright?"

He twitched his head in a nod and she stood up, moving round the fire pit again. He couldn't focus on what she was doing and found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. It felt like only a few seconds had passed when she knelt over him, gently guiding him up and to his feet, back to the R.V. He was sat on the end of the bed and she put a piece of bread into hands, encouraging him to eat with the promise it'd make him feel better. He did so obediently while she pottered in the kitchen. By the time she came back with a mug of overly sweet tea, he was indeed feeling more clear headed and when she sat down beside him, he looked at her with fresh eyes.

"I did not expect that," he said in a near whisper.

"It's quite an aggressive form of spell casting. I had to practice a lot before I felt so much as a tingle." She sipped her drink and he looked down at the mark on his palm, already starting to rub off as it dried.

"Protection. You think that I will need it?" he asked.

"It doesn't hurt to have it. I know so little about you, Loki. I honestly have no idea if you need it or not." She let out a small sigh and he glanced up at her, closing his fist. It was true. She had given blindly, everything he'd asked she'd answered, now she had even worked her magic for him. He had given nothing back. He was not accustomed to feeling obliged, but it was inescapable. He had to give her something.

"I used to have an elder brother," he muttered, tapping one finger on the outside of his mug. "We fought and do not speak anymore. I spent many years resenting him, living in his shadow. But he was my brother and life is not the same anymore…"

Maeve gazed at him, giving him a small, sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry," she said gently.

"It is alright. It was not your fault, was it?" He swallowed, realising he genuinely meant it. He had spent so long blaming the human race as a collective for so much of his pain. But in truth, it had not been Maeve's fault. She was so far removed from his perception of them. She seemed an outside even amongst her own people, content to live in the wilds, basically a hermit. She also had genuine power and knowledge he had not expected. It was a mixture of feelings he was met with as he considered whether she had the power to send him home…

Maeve drained her mug and set it aside, then encouraged Loki to lay down, saying,

"You should probably sleep. You might have pretty bizarre dreams, just as a warning." She knelt beside the bed, resting her arms on it, hands folded. They looked at each other for a long time until Loki felt his eyes growing heavy. As he fell into sleep, he register somewhere in the back of his consciousness that she kissed his forehead gently…

*   *   *

Director Fury stood before his digital array, swiping through screens, searching. Professor Selvig had been right, Loki had been in New Mexico. A brief image of him in the street with a woman had shown up on a security camera outside the town's bank. He'd dredged through hours of video, trying to get a better look. But he'd essentially become invisible. Damn small town life… He needed more to go on but there were only three cameras in the whole of town.

He decided to turn to the girl instead. When the image had been cleaned up they'd got a good scan of her face, revealing her identity as one Maeve Connor, twenty two years old, originally of Ireland. Soon he was able to filter though her entire history, right down to school report cards and dental appointments. Then, about eighteen months ago, she'd dropped off the grid.

This would not do. He'd have to start filtering things down.

*   *   *

Thor stood on the Bifrost before Heimdall, his hand closed around Mjolnir's hilt.

"You are sure?" he asked, his deep voice underlined with concern. The Way Watcher nodded slowly.

"I felt magic around your brother, old magic that the mortals have largely forgotten."

"We may have trouble on our hands…" the Thunder God muttered.

"My thoughts, too."

"Leave this in my hands," said Thor, pulling his cloak about his shoulders. "Perhaps he can be stopped before any harm is done."

*   *   *

Loki walked through the chambers of his father's halls, Maeve beside him. She was dressed in cornflower blue velvet, the same as her eyes, that cascaded to her feet and as Loki took her arm and led her onto a balcony, he thought how she looked every inch a Goddess. They stood together, she taking in the awesome grandeur of the world that lay before her, her cheeks turning pink as she was almost overwhelmed. Loki touched her bare shoulder, tracing an ivy leaf and whispering,

"You belong here," in her ear, her silken hair brushing his face.

She looked up at him with those large eyes and he thought what bliss it would be to remain in this moment forever, beyond the reach of life's evils, just gazing at her sweet face for the rest of his days. He reached to touch her cheek, wanting to draw her closer, when he began to hear her say his name without moving her lips.

"Loki. Loki…"

Something was wrong. He began to lose focus on her, the world around them suddenly seeming paper thin and distant. He tried to cling onto it but her voice was growing louder and it was all becoming further away-

"Loki!"

His eyes opened abruptly, the dream shattered. She was leant over him, one hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He felt a pang in his chest, both at the loss of the dream and the dream itself. She looked down at him and as his vision cleared he saw something was wrong with her. Her eyes were bloodshot. Face streaked with tear tracks. He jerked upright with a hiss of pain as his ribs reminded him they were not done healing yet. Instinctively he caught her hands, feeling them tremble.

"What has happened?" he asked, an unfamiliar knot of concern in his stomach. Her voice was cracked as she answered;

"Someone very important to me has fallen ill. I have to go to Utah." She looked ready to crumble. He lay a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to sit beside him. She swallowed, fighting not to cry again.

"I'll be a few days, I'm sorry, she mumbled, wiping her face with the heel of her hand. "I don't even have a cell phone to leave with you…" She hung her head and he wound his arm around her back as she choked for a moment.

"It's alright," he said softly, "do not worry for me."

There was a low knock on the door and a plump woman with a bubble perm and red cheeks stuck her head around, smiling guiltily at the pair.

"Sweetie, we need to head now it we're going to make it to the hospital in time to see him tonight," she said in a thick Southern accent Maeve gave him a tiny nod, then to his surprise threw her arms around Loki's shoulders, embracing him tightly and saying almost inaudibly;

"Please don't leave while I'm gone." He awkwardly hugged her back, whispering,

"I won't. I promise," before gently pushing her away to her feet and standing with her. He led her to the dumpy woman, noticing she was in her autumn years and practically radiated maternal energy. He felt very glad that Maeve was going with her. Steering the girl into her large hands, he watched the two get into an unfamiliar station wagon. When the doors were closed Maeve put her face in her palms, the older woman rubbing her back with one hand while using the other to turn the wheel and pull the car away. He watched until they were a pinprick in the horizon, vanishing into the blur between land and sky, then stood for a long time under the R.V awning, feeling nauseous and alone.