22: How 'Bout Them Apples?

Thoki’s inched towards Hermes until his hand was right under the Greek’s menacing shadow. From there on, Thoki shut his eyes tightly and held his breath. His hand made contact with warm flesh but something was wrong. This didn’t seem like Hermes’s hand. It was too… small. He also heard sounds of a struggle which made his eyes open again. Looking down at his hand he saw it clasped in a small slender woman’s hand. Not even Hermes could be that effeminate if he tried so Thoki decided it must belong to a woman.  He followed the hand up a white arm which was floating in midair.

Thoki screamed and let go of the hand, eyeing the floating arm in horror. Slowly the arm’s owner melted into sight amidst a chorus of laughter.

                “ERIS!” shouted Thoki in delight.

                “You should have seen the look on your face,” Eris screamed mirthfully. She was now dressed like private-school jailbait in a tiny pleated plaid skirt, white blouse and necktie.

                Thoki was relieved to see her but was holding his head as though it would explode. “I’m so sick of these deus ex machina! Can’t anyone show up sooner than ‘in the nick of time’? I’m going to have a heart attack.”

                “Aw, you’re so cute when you do the pouty face!” cooed Eris, grinning.

                “What’s going on with ‘the Spanakopita Brothers’ over there?” asked Thoki grinning.

                “They’re fighting over another of my golden lovelies. Even the gods themselves can’t resist ‘em,” said Eris. She waved her golden ipod at Thoki and he watched Hermes and Apollo wrestling on the floor like teenagers.  Currently Apollo had a hold of an identical golden MP3 player and Hermes was trying to pry his fingers off it.

                “Cow theif!” shouted Apollo, clocking Hermes on the head.

                “Ass-grabber!” Hermes retaliated, jumping on his brother’s chest.

                “Liar!”

                “Nympho!”

                “Goat-father!”

                “Tree-fucker!”

                “Wow, they really want that iPod,” said Thoki watching them with the clinical air of an interested gambler.

                “Well not everyone sees my golden iPods as iPods. It usually shows up as whatever the person really wants,” said Eris.

                “What do Apollo and Hermes see?”

                “iPods. When I say ‘not everyone’ I meant, ‘almost everyone’. It’s funny. People really like iPods.”

                “So, shall we go?” asked Thoki with a Grin.

                “Yeah, get your giant and your horse and let’s go.”

                “Brother.”

                “Huh?” asked Eris.

                “The horse— he’s my brother.”

                “The snake or the wolf?” asked Eris eyeing the octopedal grey stallion nervously.

                “No he’s my younger brother, the one we weren’t allowed to talk about. He was the black sheep, well white sheep, more like.”

                “He’s a horse.”

                “Yeah?”

                “He’s not a sheep.”

                Thoki shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ears. Apparently Eris was on another hyper up-swing. Since the Greek brothers were now in a slapping match a sudden thought occurred to him.

                “I don’t suppose we could… uh…” his eyes shifted towards the empty kitchen. “Y’know. Just a quick one before we leave?”

                “What, NOW? Boy, you really know how to sweet-talk a lady, dontcha half-pint,” said Eris with a hard stare.

                Thoki looked at his shoes.  “Yeah, I guess we’re in a rush.”

                “Uh, YA THINK?” said Eris, slapping her head and rolling her eyes.  “Men!” she grunted

                Thoki tried to fight the blush attacking his face as he ran to the couch and tried to rouse Lor.

                “Hey, buddy. We got to get out of here. I need you to get up, ‘kay?”

                Lor’s crusted eyes slowly opened and he turned a yellow eye towards Thoki. “I think I’ll stay here just the same, thank you.”

                Thoki fought the roiling pit opening up in his stomach. “C’mon, this is serious. I really need you to try, alright?”

                Lor’s baleful stare didn’t flicker as he pondered this. “I understand, Thoki. You should go while you still can. I’ll manage well enough.”

                Lor had never lied to Thoki— he didn’t have the imagination for it— but something about his last sentence made Thoki think Lor wasn’t being entirely honest with him.

                “Thoki! Hey Thoki!” came Eris’s voice behind him, sounding amused. Thoki ignored her.

                “Lor, you’ve got to try, buddy,” said Thoki with a shaking voice. “It’s just until we get downstairs and then we’ll hail a cab or something… alright?”

                “Hey, Thoki! Thoki!” came Eris again.

                “No thanks, Thoki. You have fun looking for that chaos thing. I hope you find whatever it was,” said Lor with a half a smile.

                “Thoki! Look! Look, Thoki! Thoki!” Eris persisted cheerfully.

                “Lor, you can’t give up on me! Why do you think I had to rescue you and take care of you? I can’t do this without you, buddy. Please. Don’t give up yet.”

                “Thoki! Thoki! Thoki! Look, Thoki! Look!”

                “You really want me to come?” asked Lor.

                “Thoki! Hey! Look! Look, Thoki! Thoki!”

                “Yes— WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY, ERIS? WHAT IS IT???” shouted Thoki, whipping around to face her.

                Eris was using her magic to appear like a sprite made of pixels on the dead Television screen in the corner.

                “Look! I’m a Deus Ex Machina! Get it? I’m a god and I’m in a Machine!” she chirped.

                “Hilarious,” said Thoki icily.

                “So you guys done with your little sissy drama yet, or should I come back later?” said Eris.

                “He can’t move, Eris,” sighed Thoki. We can’t get him downstairs.

                “Who said we were going downstairs?” said Eris. “I can take us with my powers.”

                “You can?” shouted Thoki.

                “Hellooooo? Goddess?”

                “Why didn’t you just say so— and don’t say because I never asked because I feel like hitting something!”

                Eris stared at him without moving.

                “Well?”

                “You said not to say it,” said Eris.

                Thoki’s eyes suddenly widened to the size of ping-pong balls as a thought occurred to him. “You’re the goddess of dischord!”

                “Yes. How d’you do,” said Eris, bemused.

                “YOU’RE AN AGENT OF CHAOS!!” screamed Thoki.

                “Took you long enough,” said Eris with a wry smile. She snapped her fingers and there was a flash of light with the smell of burning ozone. Hermes and Apollo, were knocked out of their frenzied tussle to see the room suddenly devoid of one former demi-god, one giant, and one 8-legged horse.

                “What just happened?” asked Hermes rubbing his head. There were a few large lumps on it, and his nose felt broken again. He looked over at his brother who was rubbing his jaw and blinking through a black eye.

                “I dunno,” said Apollo using his rod to heal a broken finger.

                Hermes’s eyes darted around the room and landed on the golden iPod near Apollo’s knee.

                He spat out a tooth before spitting out the name, “ERIS!”

16: My Brother, the Horse

Recap: Thoki was just menaced by his half-brother, Fenrir, in an ambush. Thoki narrowly escaped when his youngest half-brother Slepnir appeared and flew him to safetey. They were unabe to rescue Lor, however, who was tied up in unbreakable ropes and left for the police.

Slepnir, alighted gracefully atop the roof of a nearby apartment complex. Thoki scrambled off his back and turned to look at his estranged half-brother. After a moment’s awkward silence, Thoki dove forward and embraced him. Slepnir returned the gesture by nickering and chewing on Thoki’s hair.

Slepnir was another parasitic shoot on Loki’s warped family tree. The eight-legged horse’s origin had its roots in a bizarre bout of circumstances that could ONLY happen to omnipotent deities. In summary, Loki’s gift at shape-shifting resulted in his becoming Slepnir’s mother. Loki was thoroughly ashamed of his foal and Slepnir was immediately pawned off on Odin. One of the few times Loki had ever spoken to Thoki like a son was when he was forbidden to go anywhere near Odin’s stables.

Thoki was afraid of horses and shyed away from them as a rule, but this outright ban on the stables made them all the more attractive to young Thoki. Filling his pocket with carrots, he ran down to the stables at night to find Hermod the stable-master fussing over a thin fuzzy thing that seemed to be made of knees. It freaked Thoki out, thinking that it resembled more of a spider than a horse, but the forlorn look on the foal’s face was unmistakable as was the quiet resignation on Hermod’s broad face.

“It won’t eat,” he said gruffly. “I’ve seen it before. The poor thing is heartbroken.”

“I think I would be too if I suddenly found out my mom was a red-headed son of a bitch who said ‘let’s dialogue about that’ all the time,” said Thoki.

Hermod said nothing, but his mouth twitched a little. “We can’t help our family connections,” he said.

 “Is he going to die?” Thoki asked. It seemed to Hermod, that the inquiry was less out of concern than out of academic curiosity.

“He may. You want to try?” asked the stablehand, shoving the bucket of mash into Thoki’s hands. He gave Thoki a look that said, “surprise me,” and then walked out of the stable.

Thoki sniffed at the bucket and wrinkled his nose. “No wonder you’re starving. Look what they’re feeding you,” he said, dropping the bucket. He pulled out the carrots from his pocket and offered them to the horse. The horse sniffed the vegetables and then nibbled them experimentally. He seemed to like them but was having trouble chewing through the tough orange flesh. Thoki thought about this, and then grabbing a carrot and chewing it thoroughly, spat the whole thing into the mash bucket. He offered the premasticated carrot and mash to the foal, who gobbled it up appreciatively. Thoki finished up with the rest of the carrots, spitting the chewed-up chunks into the pan.

“I know this is gross, but this is how they invented mead, so I guess it’s okay,” said Thoki through crunches.  “So you’re another one of Loki’s mistakes, huh?” he mused.

The horse looked up at him with large dark eyes. It didn’t speak — it wasn’t designed for speech —but it had very expressive eyes that seemed to say, “you too, huh?”

“Yeah,” sighed Thoki. “Me too.”  The horse extended a mash-covered nose and nuzzled Thoki’s face.

“Hey! Stop it!” laughed Thoki, trying to keep foal away.

Since that day, they were true brothers. They were never thrown together much. When Slepnir grew from a colt to a Stallion, Odin lent him to any Aesir that needed him and Thoki was never included in that circle.

 In fact, up to now, on this wild night in Cairo, Thoki had never ridden him.

Thoki clutched his dislocated arm, hissing with the pain and looked over the rooftops, trying to discern what was happening in the park. It was no good;  he and Slepnir had flown too far away to see what was happening to Lor. All they could see was the distant wink of police lights.

“We have to go back for Lor!” he shouted , spinning around to look at the horse.

Slepnir’s ears swiveled back and his eyes grew wide.

“No, I’m sure Fenrir took off,” said Thoki.

Slepnir bared his teeth.

“I’m pretty sure,” admitted Thoki.

The horse trotted in a tight circle for a moment, then came back and nuzzled Thoki’s bad arm.

“I know I’m hurt! But I can’t leave him alone! He’s bailed me out so many times… I just can’t leave him.”

Slepnir cocked his head and nickered.

“What do you mean, that doesn’t sound like me?” asked Thoki in annoyance. “What did you’d think I say?”

The horse fell on the ground, rolled onto his back, and put all eight legs up in the air, like a cartoon corpse.

“Oh, ‘ha-ha.’ Very funny,” grumbled Thoki as Slepnir rose again and shook the dust off his dove-grey hide. He then nuzzled Thoki’s face again.

“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” said Thoki quietly. He accidentally bumped his left arm and bit back a wave of nausea. “You’re the number one person I’d have wished to see again.”

Slepnir gave him a penetrating look.

“Okay, maybe you’re the second person,” he said with a wry grin. The horse shook his head in exasperation. “Of course, a DOCTOR would be pretty high on the list right now,” Thoki added, looking mournfully at his useless arm.

Slepnir seemed to consider this. He then turned 180°and backed up to a yard’s distance from Thoki.

“What’re you doing?” asked Thoki warily.

Slepnir didn’t answer but hopped onto his forelegs before his third hind leg kicked Thoki’s elbow upward. There was a sucking sound and a sickening squelch while Thoki’s scream bounced off the rooftops. He was holding his shoulder, which felt like it had been dipped in red-hot lava, and his elbow

“WHAT THE HELL?” he screamed at the horse.

Slepnir screamed at him.

“Are you a trained medical specialist? I don’t think so!” countered Thoki.

Slepnir reared just a little to look menacing.

“Yeah, it’s in, but what about nerve damage? What about this gigantic bruise on my elbow? You could have shattered it, you eightlegged can of dogfood!” Thoki flexed the fingers on his left hand and tried to swallow the vomit rising in his throat.

Slepnir, champed but looked contrite. He cocked his head to the side again.

“NO, I don’t want you to reset my nose! Are you insane?” Thoki shouted, covering his face protectively.

Slepnir shook his head.

“SURE you weren’t gonna kick it. If it’s all the same to you I like it broken,” Thoki said.  “Now what are we going to do with Lor!”

(Whinny)

“Yeah, I suppose he’s safer in jail than he is with Fenrir. Thank God we’re not in Turkey or France. But I still can’t leave him there! …He needs me,” Thoki said as realization stole over him. I think I need him too, he thought.

Slepnir cozied up to Thoki, who finally accepted that the horse wouldn’t try any more first aid and patted his neck. Slepnir sprayed him with a tiny shower of horse-snot, but Thoki’d endured worse today.

“I know he’s a giant, but hey we’re half giant,” said Thoki. “We can’t help how we’re made.”

Slepnir cropped off some of Thoki’s hair and chewed it thoughtfully. Just as Thoki began to feel something in his left arm other than searing horrendous pain, Slepnir jumped up and ran in a circle. “You know someone? Who?” asked Thoki.

Slepnir bowed, so his short brother could clamber onto his back again.

“What do you mean, we’ll see?” asked Thoki in annoyance. But only had his rear-end nipped due to Slepnir’s impatience. “Seriously, WHO? I don’t do surprises, Slep.”

The horse shifted under Thoki until his weight settled comfortably. Then with a piercing whinny and a stomach-churning lurch Slepnir launched himself into the air again.

“Thank GOD I don’t have to roll down any windows to be sick out of,” said Thoki through white lips. 

Ep 15: The Fourth Son

Recap: Thoki wants to get to the obelisk of Heliopolis to see if there are any clues to finding ISFAT, the primordial chaos. Hermes and Robin Goodfellow are trying to stop Thoki from realizing his plan ; they’re worried that ISFAT could undo the fabric of reality. Currently Hermes has Lor in his sway with the help of a plush piglet named Mr. Babbington.

Hermes waved the plush piglet tantalizingly in front of Lor. Lor’s tiny currant eyes were alight with child-like wonder.

“That’s right, Lor. Be a good giant and put Thoki down. Then you and Mr. Babbington can go play,” he said in his deep musical voice.

Lor seemed powerless to object as his large hammy hand reached onto his shoulder and lifted Thoki by the collar of his shirt.

“WOAH! HEY! PUT ME DOWN!” screamed Thoki fighting both Lor’s hand and his strangling collar. “Lor!” he pleaded, “Don’t listen to him! Snap out of it, buddy!” Lor’s arm continued in its slow deliberate arc towards the steps where Hermes and Goodfellow were waiting.

“That’s it, Lor. Mr. Babbington is very pleased,” said Hermes watching Thoki eagerly. A dark delight was stealing over his handsome features and his eyes flickered dangerously. Thoki glared at the Greek with unadulterated hatred.

Alright, you feather-footed freak, Thoki thought. Two can play this psychotic game.

“Lor! Don’t do it! It’s a trap!” cried Thoki.

Lor actually paused this time. “Trap?”

“Can’t you see that their forcing Mr. Babbington to say those things?” moaned Thoki in an overly theatrical voice.

“They are?” asked Lor, eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” hissed Hermes, frowning.

“Mr. Babbington is their prisoner, Lor!” Thoki wailed like a sibyl.

“No he’s not!” insisted Hermes in a childish whine.

A sudden thought struck Thoki and he manipulated his voice to sound high and squeaky. (It also had a British accent for some reason.) “It’s too late for me, Lor! Save yourself!”

“Mr. Babbington?” cried Lor aghast. His eyes began to tear as he surveyed the little fluffy pig in Hermes’ hands. The Greek was staring at the doll in shock.

“But I—”

“Be brave Lor! This is how I want to go!” said Thoki in Mr. Babbington’s voice.

This was more than Lor could stand and the giant burst into noisy tears. Large drops cascaded down his cheeks and pooled in his thick red beard.  Unbeknownst to Hermes, despite the fact that Lor was mourning the fate of an inanimate pink piglet, a fire was slowly being banked in his stegosaurus-sized brain.

“Tell my wife I love her!”  squeaked Thoki, pushing Lor further. This time Lor went over the edge.

“YOU LEAVE MR. BABBINGTON ALONE!!!!” roared Lor.

Hermes didn’t have time to move out of the way before Lor swatted him 30 meters into an ornamental palm tree. The pig turned a few lazy circles in the air, before landing in the giant’s waiting hands.

“I’ve got you, friend!” cooed Lor, hugging the pig tightly.

“Well done, Lor,” laughed Thoki, grinning at Hermes trying to pick himself off the ground.

“Another crumpet, Mr. Crowley. I haven’t eaten since Rome Fell,” the God mumbled in Greek before giggling and falling over.

Thoki shook his head, before remembering that he had TWO tricksters to deal with.

“You want a taste, Puck?” Thoki snarled at the other.

“Not particularly. NOW!” shouted Goodfellow. A long white ribbon fell over Lor. Two shadowy figures darted out from behind the obelisk. Thoki recognized the American brothers, Raven and Coyote, as each grabbed a ribbon end and circled Lor like a maypole.

Lor was trapped in his embrace with Mr. Babbington as the cords bound his arms to his body. Thoki could only look on helplessly as Coyote and Raven pulled the ribbon taut. The brothers exchanged a high-five before joining Goodfellow. Oberon’s son took the ends with them and pulled until his muscular arms rippled like cooking bacon. In a few short moments, Lor had tumbled to the concrete.

Lor struggled and grunted against his bonds, but it was no use. Thoki was speechless. He had seen Lor break out of ropes before, even chains and those little plastic garbage-ties the police used (if he was given a few goes).  But this simple silk ribbon didn’t even stretch.

“What the hell did you tie him up with?” shouted Thoki.

“A special cord, Thoki,” said Hermes limping towards the other tricksters. “You might be familiar with it. It’s made from a cat’s footstep, a woman’s beard, the roots of a mountain, the sinew of a bear, the breath of a fish, and…”

“…The spittle of a bird,” finished Thoki feeling lightheaded. It was the cord that had bound his brother Fenrir all those years ago and kept him prisoner until Ragnarok. “Gleipnir,” he breathed.

“Yes,” said Hermes his face contorted with glee and pain. He was clutching his chest like a few ribs had been broken and his leg had taken a good deal of punishment as well.

“But how did you get Gleipnir?” asked Thoki.

“FROM ME,” came a raspy voice behind Thoki. Spinning around Thoki saw a large hulking shadow loping towards him. Thoki broke into a cold sweat as his eldest brother, Fenrir advanced on him. If Thoki thought Lor was huge, it was nothing compared to Fenrir. The wolf-man wasn’t much taller, but he seemed to take up so much space. His presence was like a black hole that sucked in all rational thought, leaving you petrified. You felt powerless to move or think — there was nothing to do but stare at him blankly until he ripped out your throat.

“Hello, runt,” said Fenrir through pointed canines.

“Hello Fe—” Thoki wasn’t given the chance to finish as Fenrir lunged for him. Thoki wasn’t ready, but some part of his brain was, for he leaped out of the way just in time to avoid his muscle-bound brother. Fenrir was strong, but slow, and it took him a moment to stop his momentum.  He managed to bank a wide turn before rounding on Thoki again but “the runt” was prepared this time.

Thoki leaped on top of one of the cement pylons around the obelisk and jumped over his brother. This time, Fenrir used the pylon to make a tight turn, ripping the post out of the ground as he did so. The four tricksters only just had time to jump out of the way as Thoki scrambled towards the Obelisk.  

He had intended to leap down again, before Fenrir could rally, but a glyph on the obelisk distracted him. There, in the ancient sandstone, nearly worn away from the wind and rain of the ages, was the word, ISFAT.

Thoki froze and tried to read the rest just as a large meaty hand slammed his face against the red rock. He felt a hot and cold sensation in his face along with a dull burning, and he knew his nose was broken. He felt something hard rolling around in his mouth and spit out a tooth. Thoki tried to make sense of what had just happened but everything was a swirling miasma in his head, muddled further by the wooshing sound in his ears.  Then he heard Fenrir’s laughter and remembered.

“Are you going to kill me?” asked Thoki.

“Probably,” said Fenrir. “You didn’t listen to my warning.”

“I’ve never listened to you,” said Thoki.

“True. I always had to do this, first,” said Fenrir, grabbing Thoki’s thin wrist and rotating the arm. There was a sickening snap of tendons and the scrape of bone against bone.

Thoki screamed. He’d tried to keep it in — he’d really tried —but the pain was more than he could bear and it burst out of his chest and went flying into the night sky.

Lor heard it and sobbed.

Hermes stopped laughing and succumbed to his own injuries.

Goodfellow covered his ears.

Raven and Coyote drew a little closer to each other — suddenly the night didn’t seem on their side anymore.

Even Fenrir blanched as the echoes of Thoki’s cry bounced off the huddled buildings and minarets. Slowly lights began to illuminate the windows. People were shouting into the darkness.

“Who’s out there?”

“Are you alright?”

“Do you need an ambulance?”

“No! Call the police!”

Only seconds later there was the wail of sirens and the flash of cruiser lights.

The humans were taking the night back.

Fenrir, felt the unfamiliar paroxysms of fear and relaxed his grip on Thoki. Thoki struggled out of his hairy hands and ran. He’d only gotten a few feet when he remembered Lor strung up like a honey-baked ham and ran back. Thoki thrust his dislocated arm inside his open shirt to keep it from moving around as he jumped over pylons and wrought irons chains to the dais where the obelisk sat. Fenrir and the tricksters were gone, but Lor was still in a rolled-up heap on the concrete, struggling against the unbreakable ribbon.

“Hang on, Buddy, I’ll get you out!” said Thoki in a choked voice as his free hand struggled uselessly against the bonds. He heard voices shouting and Arabic and approaching footfalls. The humans were coming. He began to panic and tugged fruitlessly. Hot tears rolled down Thoki’s face, mingling with the congealing blood from his broken nose. He couldn’t even slip a finger under the cords.

“Go, Thoki! Take Mr. Babbington,” said Lor mournfully as his bulk strained against the ribbon to shift the pink piggy. Thoki pulled with tremendous effort and managed to get the toy out of Lor’s grip. Hope buoyed at the possibility that Lor might have some wiggle room now, but it was dashed as he heard the clatter of shoes surround him and the clicking of hand guns.

“Police! Freeze!” shouted a policeman.

Thoki sighed, rose to his feet and put his good hand in the air still holding Mr. Babbington, while the other flopped limply at his side.

“You’re under arrest for disturbing the peace, destruction of government property, and trespassing on national park grounds.”

Thoki nodded and stepped forward.

That was when he felt a sharp tug on the sleeve of his elevated hand. To his utter surprise (and the surprise of the policemen) he was pulled into the air. He felt the fibres of his loose cotton shirt start to tear and that’s when the dropping sensation took over. He was plummeting towards the obelisk when he felt his backside land on something hard, but pliant… and moving.

Daring to open his eyes again, Thoki realized that he was on a horse …and the horse was flying. Anxiously he looked around for a rider, expecting to find a Valkyrie behind him, but he was alone. A sudden thought struck him and with utmost care (made all the more imperative by the lack of a saddle) looked down to count the horse’s legs.

“One, two, three, four… five… six… seven… eight —SLEPNIR!!”  he shouted, hugging the Horse’s neck warmly. Thoki’s little brother, Slepnir the eight-legged horse, whinnied in response.

Beware of Greeks Wearing Versace

Recap: Thoki & Lor have been journeying across the Mediterranean towards Egypt. Thoki's wants to learn more about the Source of Ultimate Chaos and use it to rule the world. Lor wants to learn "where the bread goes" when he makes toast. 

Young Thoki entered the dark cave. He’d never been here before, his mother had wished to spare him the pain until he’d been prepared. What pain? Thoki and his father had never been close. Even now as he descended into Loki’s prison, Thoki was urged on by curiosity not compassion. He would hold the bowl. He’d promised his mother that, and he would do his best to keep the poison from falling on his father’s face. Still if his hand should slip or during those moments when he had to empty the bowl, it’d be interesting to see his father writhe in pain.

His feet grew heavier as he approached the interior chamber and he hesitated. Odin had told him not to go, that it could lead to disaster, but he had to go, to see. Most of all, Thoki wanted to know that his father was finally in a place where he couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Thoki heard laboured breathing and rounded the last turn of the narrow passageway. There he was. Thoki remembered his father being handsome. Like all the Aesir, Loki had been the epitome of his sex and forever young. Now he looked gaunt and withered, his mouth still scarred from where leather thongs had once bound his mouth shut. His fiery red hair was streaked with grey and lines framed his boyish face. As always his eyes were black coals, twinkling with disarming energy. It was impossible to hate Loki, not when he went out of his way to make himself appealing. It was the trickster’s mark. It had never worked on Thoki, however, since Loki had never cared whether the boy’d liked him or not… until today.

            Loki lifted his heavy head, and smiled charmingly at his youngest son through his marred lips.

            “Hey, sport. How’s it going?”

*****

“You’ve got everything you need?”

“Yes, Thoki,” answered Lor.

“You’ll remember to eat three times a day?” Thoki asked the lumbering giant.

“Yes, Thoki.”

“And not just junkfood, okay?”

“Yes Thoki.”

“I’ve done your laundry for you. Your Thomas the Tank Engine shirt is on top. I know that’s you’re favorite.”

“Yes. Thank you, Thoki.”

Thoki shouldered his backpack, full of his few possessions and prepared to leave.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this. It’s nothing personal, you understand.”

“I understand.”

“It’s just I think we need to go our separate ways.”

“Yes, Thoki.” Lor only nodded with no expression on his hammy face.

It made Thoki’s stomach feel even more squeezed by guilt. He tried to swallow it and walk away.

“You know I’m not coming back, right,” he prompted.

“I know,” answered Lor.

Thoki grimaced and walked out the door to the youth hostile. Lor, seated on the flat bug-infested bed said nothing. There was no need. Thoki always came back.

Thoki felt like scum as he walked down the streets of Bastia. After a grueling month or two adrift at sea (he’d lost count of the days) he and Lor had run aground on the island of Corsica. It had come as a relief somewhat, since Jormungandr had been singing show-tunes at them the entire time. After a day the serpent had run out of songs and started repeating them. Thoki reflected that if he ever heard “One Day More,” one day more he’d have to suppress the urge to make a pipe bomb.

It was colder these days, and Thoki wrapped his zip hoodie tightly around himself as he walked without direction. He just had to get away. He had been getting closer to Lor, and that was dangerous, so he left. Oh, sure, he’d left about eight times already and always ran back when the loneliness became so depressing he’d thought he would die. But this time was different. He was leaving for good this time. Friends were a liability. They made you vulnerable–made you weak.

He found that his feet were taking him to very swanky part of town. The shop windows were full of handbags, and shoes, and silk shirts, and absolutely no price tags. Tanned women and men were strutting down the sidewalks in designer clothes and sunglasses. Thoki suddenly felt shabby and inadequate… and very pale. He wondered what he was doing here, why had he felt compelled to wander into this district? And then he saw the reason.

A bronze-skinned young man in a floral silk shirt and scarf was seated at a wrought iron café table. His dark brown hair was expertly styled, his white pants dazzlingly clean and immaculate. Thoki sniffed at the leather purse dangling on the back of the man’s chair. He’d heard of a “manbag,” but had never seen one before. Then again, he’d never seen a man in lilac silk before either.

The man had a carefully calculated air of casual elegance. He was sipping a cappuccino and admiring the beautiful women that clipped past (Thoki amended that–beautiful women and men that clipped past). While he leered, the man absently fingered the gorgeous silk scarf around his neck.

“Hermes?” inquired Thoki approaching him.

“Yes it is, but it’s pronounced, ER-MAY,” said the man, before looking up. (Thoki thought the word, ‘queer’ instead of ‘man.’ Vikings were not typically raised to be open-minded.)

“Oh you mean me,” said the man with a polite smile.

“Yeah, you’re the guy with the wings on his ankles. Hermes, right?” asked Thoki ducking under the café awning.

“I’m wearing Manolos today. Hello, Thoki, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Me?” cried Thoki, taken aback. He didn’t think Hermes knew he existed. “What do you mean waiting.”

“We all have been,” said Hermes. “Take a seat, will you?”

“We?” Thoki eyed the seat warily, like it might have poison spikes on it, and eventually decided to sit. He tried not to think about how it might appear to other people to see two men, one in pink, seated at a café table.

“Antonio, please bring my friend a coffee and a selection of pastries,” said Hermes to one of the waiters.

“Yes, Signor Fattorino,” replied the waiter before scurrying off.

“Fattorino? Messanger boy?” translated Thoki, when Antonio had left. “Cute. Real cute.”

“Less is more,” replied Hermes with a shrug. “But let’s talk about you.”

Thoki tried not to look uncomfortable as the god’s dark eyes swept over him with unmasked interest. Hermes, another trickster, was turning on the charm. “The source of ultimate chaos, was it, Thoki?”

Thoki blanched whiter than his Nordic pallor. “How did you know that?”

“I know it. I know more than you think about it, perhaps. The Greek and Egyptian pantheon were united briefly, if you recall.”

“It was after my time,” said Thoki, who wasn’t sure.

“I even know the name of what you’re looking for,” continued Hermes.

“You do? What is it?” said Thoki leaning in.

For the first time since their meeting, Hermes looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his iron chair and glanced towards the street. “I don’t have permission to tell you, but… it’s not what you think it is. This Chaos you’re after, it’s nothing any of us can master or contain. You’re a fool to think you could harness it.”

Thoki bristled at this effeminate nancy-boy trying to tell him off. “Oh really?” he said with a sneer.

“It’s not going to bring him back,” said Hermes gently. “I know you’re doing this to please your father but–”

“EXCUSE ME?” cried Thoki sitting up, abruptly. “Where do you get off? I’m not doing JACK to please my dad. Not all of us are happy with our deadbeat fathers, Hermes. Here in the loosey-goosey Adriatic, you might enjoy being a little bastard, but in Norway, father-son relationships are a bit more complicated.”

“We’re in the Tyrrhenian Sea, dolt,” said Hermes acidly.

“Whatever. Just don’t mess with me, douche-bag. I have my own reasons for doing this.”

“Well, if I can’t convince you… maybe you’d be willing to come with me. I know someone who can tell you all about the Source of Ultimate Chaos.”

“No,” said Thoki.
"You don't trust me?"
"DUH."

“Well at least wait until after breakfast,” said Hermes indicating the plate of éclairs and the steaming hot coffee that had just arrived.

Thoki tried to ignore the heavenly scent that was wafting from the coffee and food. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in over a year, and he hadn’t eaten solid food for about 2 months. His stubborn pride vanished utterly as he grabbed the cappuccino from its saucer and took a deep drink. It was bitter and very strong, but filled him with gorgeous warmth and caffeine. He then bit into the éclair, and saw stars. He never realized that food could taste like this.

Overcome with fatigue, remorse and emotion, Thoki burst into tears and cried face-down onto the table. Hermes almost regretted clubbing Thoki over the head with a blackjack.

***

Back at the hostel, Lor hadn’t moved. He was still waiting for Thoki.

Thoki and Hermes

4. "DA-DUN"

First published, August 19, 2010


“Thoki?”
“What.”
“I think I see it again.”
“Oh, crap, you’re right. Paddle faster!”

Thoki and Lor were on the western side the Atlantic Ocean heading roughly east towards the Mediterranean. Standard forms of travel had been out of the question. Between the two of them, they had managed to save up only $128.34 from various odd jobs and petty thievery. That wasn’t enough to get a plane ticket for Thoki, let alone Lor who would have needed to purchase an extra seat to accommodate his backside. Plus he would have had to hunch the entire way to keep from banging his head on the overhead compartment. 

Thus stymied, they had tried to stow-away aboard a cruise ship. This plan had worked for all of twenty minutes. Thoki was still nursing some bruises from when they were arrested and put ashore in Florida. Stupid Disney. Down to their last Benjamin, Thoki attempted to be resourceful. He waltzed into a beach-shop and began to purchase/shoplift supplies. 

Now he was 40 miles out to sea, with his cohort, in a crude raft made of inflatable alligator pool-toys held together with duct tape. Three inflatable beer-coolers swam beneath them, acting as ballast. They were filled with containers of Ensure, Red Bull and Dasani, which were their only concessions to hydration and nutrition. The Red Bull was for Lor, who was currently acting as the outboard motor. He was wearing a large innertube around his waist, and orange water-wings, as his massive legs thrashed the water, keeping up the steady “kick, kick, kick,” they’d been doing all morning. Lor never got tired, he didn’t have enough imagination to get tired. 

Right now, however, he was kicking more frantically as Thoki called out to him.
“Starboard, kick starboard!”
“Is that left or right?” asked Lor.
“It’s that way,” said Thoki, pointing.
“So left?”
“No, that’s… wait. Does it matter which way I’m facing?”
“I think it depends on which way the boat is facing,” said Lor in one of his rare moments of lucidity.
“Oh… so port, then?”
“No thanks, I don’t drink.”
“Too late! Here it comes again!” cried Thoki in a panicked voice. He pulled on the tether holding Lor to the craft, and tried to pull him aboard. After a few close calls and near-capsizes, the giant managed to clamber onto the squeaking wet alligator toys.


The two stared in growing anxiety, huddled beneath a pile of stolen beach towels, as a large dark shape came closer to the boat.
“It might just be a whale,” said Thoki in a whisper.
DA-DUN.
“Or not,” he added mournfully.
DA-DUN.
“I’m scared,” said Lor quietly.
DA-DUN-DUN.
“Just don’t make any sudden moves,” said Thoki. “Keep quiet and don’t touch the water.”
"Okie-dokie, Thoki."
DA-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN
“It’s getting closer,” whimpered the giant, trying pathetically to make himself smaller.
BADDA-BUNNNNNNNNNNN (DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN)
The water began to boil and churn as the dark shape got closer and closer. Thoki and Lor, held each other tightly as scales and fins began to flash beneath the surface.
BADA-BUN! BADA-BUN!
The ocean rose suddenly in a column of green water that erupted from the waves. A terrifying creature rose sixty feet in the air and came down again in a horrible splash. It was a sea serpent that seemed too big to be possible. The undulating coils were larger and longer than a freight train as jaws, the size of a drawbridge, snapped at them. 

“BADA-BUN!” sang the snake-head joyfully. Its breath tore at the two sailors, smelling of death and chocolate milk. In confirmation, a few empty Ensure cans floated to the surface.

“JORM! KNOCK IT OFF!” screamed Thoki.
“Aw, don’t have a hissy-fit, wiener. I was just funnin’ yah,” said Jormungandr, the world serpent. 
“And stop eating our food supply!” Thoki snapped again at his half-brother.

Jormungandr was in his traditionally ‘mythic’ form this time, that of a gigantic cretaceous clidastes. He didn’t exactly run the length of the world–the Ancient Norsemen did like to exaggerate– but he could circle around Australia at least. The giant sea-serpent was supposedly so hideous that no mortal could look on it without going insane, but Thoki was used to it by now and tried to stare down the mad rolling yellow eyes. 

“And do you have to sing the theme to ‘Jaws’ every time? It’s getting old.”
“I could sing the theme to the Poseidon Adventure. There’s got to be a morning afterrrr, If we can hold on through the niiiiiiiii–!”
“NO SINGING!” 
“Aw, you got such a stick up your ass.”
“Can you sing something from an ocean-themed movie where nobody dies?”
“Alright. Have it your way,” said Jormungand with a poisonous grin. “Under da Seeea! Under da Seeeaaa!...”
“Is he going to do this all the way to Egypt?” asked Lor meekly.
“Or until he gets bored and tries to eat us,” said Thoki.
“I prefer the singing.”
“Me too, actually– he’s not that bad.”
“Up on de shore, dey work all day…” sang the serpent.
“This is going to be a long freaking trip though,” sighed Thoki.
“Who wants to hear me sing the theme to Spongebob?” cried Jorm turning happily in spirals.
“Ooh! Ooh! Me!" said Lor, raising his hand.
"I can't heeeere yooou!"
"Aye-aye, Captain!"

“Drama queen,” Thoki muttered.