Sorcha's Secret World, Part 2: Mystery and Mischief.

Chapter 13, Loki? Loki!

As it turned out, Sif and I didn't get to have that drink.
A day later, she was contacted by an informant who had a lead on Halja's location. Thor tried to persuade Sif to at least let him come along with her, but Sif had to regretfully refuse his offer.
"I love you honey-bear, but I have my mission and you have your own. Keep an eye on that brother of yours, will you?
I promise I'll facetime every day. And now I know about Agartha, I can be back here in no time once I catch Beaumont!"
Thor was sad when Sif left, but knowing that she would stay in touch and she was only an Agartha portal or two away helped.

Loki and Carter were focussing most of their time on the broken portals.
I didn't see why it was such a big deal first of all, with Agartha only a stone's throw away, but Loki explained to me why it was so important. Until now we had been dependent on Agartha portals, which only lead to places on Midgard.
A few powerful magic users could make their own portals using their life force as Odin had, but that was dangerous and could lessen the caster's life span if they weren't careful. The ability to create functioning portals had been long lost, but if Loki and Carter could rediscover how to create them, it would be the discovery of this century.
With Beaumont and Halja out there up to no good, magic in Midgard waning and the Dreamers stirring it seemed to me there were things that were more important to focus on. Loki just rolled his eyes and said not everything always had to be about saving the world.

"If only we knew what your ancestors used as a power source, there is nothing here that remotely resembles one!"
Carter picked despondently through the broken pieces.
"I suspect it might have pulled on the hold's own power source, but I can not see how either," Loki admitted, running a hand through his hair.
His demeanour changed completely when his phone buzzed.
"Yes!" he punched the air. "One of my purveyors of magic tomes finally came through! He has Apsethus the Lybian's tome on energy and ascendance. It should aid us in working out this little puzzle!
Darling, get dressed and grab your bag, we're going to Milan!"
"Who, me?" I asked in confusion. I had been happily ignoring the two of them up until now.
"Yes, you! Come on, you, me, a trip to Milan? I promise I'll stay away from the clothes shops!" Loki smiles his most charming smile.
"It will be fun! I'll even buy you ice cream!"

It won't surprise you that less than an hour later I found myself in Milan, blinking against the sun.
Loki looked sharp in a suit I was almost certain I had never seen before, I was wearing a white dress with little red rosebuds on it. I loved the skirt on it, it was knee length and swished around my legs as I walked.
Loki's arm was casually draped around my shoulder as he guided me through the bustling streets of the Italian city. I looked up at him and smiled and he winked back from behind his designer sunglasses.
My heart skipped a beat, as it so often did, and suddenly I found myself thinking again how unbelievable it was that the tall handsome god that turned heads wherever he went was truly mine.
"I've known the family that runs the bookstores for centuries.
When I first set foot in it it was the owner's great-great-great-grandfather who sold me the first magic tome I ever bought on Midgard," Loki reminisced.
"I haven't been here in quite a few decades. Beaumont hasn't either, I mean," he corrected himself.
We turned into an alleyway and stepped into a tiny bookstore. I squinted as my eyes adapted to the darkness inside.
Bookcases were crammed in every available place in the small store, and piles of books that didn't fit in the bookcases lay on the tables and were piled upon the floor.
The place had that special smell that all proper bookstores have, of paper and ink and strangely enough, vanilla.
"It is because lignin, which is present in all wood-based paper, is closely related to vanilla.
As it breaks down, the lignin grants old books that faint vanilla scent," Loki had explained to me when I had commented on it after happily smelling an old book he brought home.
The owner greeted Loki in a way that was friendly, but he was clear he hadn't met Loki before.
He took Loki deeper into the store, the two of them talked animatedly in Italian.
I stayed behind and looked around a bit. None of the books seemed to be in a language I could read.
"Loki?" A boy, no older than twelve stood behind me and was pointing towards the shelves Loki had disappeared behind.
He motioned with his hands as if to make two horns on his head.
I smiled and shook my head. Loki usually played along with children, letting them think he was the Loki from the movies, but I always felt uncomfortable pretending.
"Sorry, I don't speak Italian," I shook my head.
"That's okay, I speak English." He barely even had an accent. "My parents sent me to an international school, they say knowing languages is important. I'm Giacomo."
"Hi, I'm Sorcha," I smiled.
"So, is that Loki?" he asked. I hesitated with my answer.
I was sworn to keep the Secret World secret, and while this shop sold magic tomes, I wasn't certain how much the people here knew.
"My great-grandfather used to tell me he met Loki once when he was a little boy.
He used to take me to the movies every Saturday afternoon, and whenever a Thor movie was on he'd want to see it," Giacomo smiled.
"And he'd tell how he met Loki once and great-grandfather fell and hurt his knee, and Loki bought him an ice cream. He said Loki looked just like in the movies."
"Yes, that is Loki," I admitted with a smile.
"Cool. Did he ever get Hulk-smashed?" the boy asked enthusiastically.
"No, but I didn't need the Hulk to kick his butt when he tried to destroy the world once," I grinned.
"You are funny," Giacomo laughed.
"Do you play video games? I used to play with my great-grandfather but he can't play anymore."
"Sure, what have you got?"
"Mario Kart?"
"I rock at that game, even Thor can't defeat me at that."
"You are really funny!"
Giacomo led me into a small kitchen. An old man was sitting in a wheelchair, his eyes staring unseeing ahead of him.
"Great-grandfather got unwell, and now he can't talk or play anymore," Giacomo explained. "I mind him when my father is working in the shop."