Morgan's Fate

but unlike Gungnir it remained a pendant.

“It’s possible it’s Hothead, trying to get ahead of us.”

“I don’t know, but keep your eyes open. The Old Man has more allies than just Rina and the ravens.”

Morgan cursed under his breath. For all they knew, the figure that had dashed ahead of them could have been one of the Jotun, or one of the gods who followed Frigg. Morgan wasn’t certain whether or not Frigg was still working with Grimm. He doubted it, but stranger things had happened. While she might be ticked he’d picked another woman as his queen, he was still one of the most powerful gods in the pantheon. If he got his hands back on Gungnir, he’d be practically unstoppable.

One thing Morgan was certain of. If Grimm got the Godspear, the first thing he would do would be to go after Logan, Kir and the gods who followed them. He would kill each and every one of them to ensure that Ragnarrok was nothing more than a fairy tale.

They crossed the border of Alfheim at a run, making for that small patch of land where the Guardian’s residence rested. Himinbjorg rested at the very end of the Bifrost Bridge, and marked the beginning of Asgard.

There, in front of the gates, stood Heimdall. On either side of him stood…

“Holy fuck.” Morgan stopped dead in his tracks, staring in shock at the double Logans.

“Which one is the real one?” Skye stepped forward and placed her hand on Morgan’s shoulder.

Morgan edged slightly in front of her. If this went south, he needed to make sure he stood between her and any danger. “Skye, does this look familiar?”

She shook her head. “No.” She shook her head. “Wait. There’s something, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.” She squinted, watching the scene before them as the two Logans argued loudly with Heimdall.

Heimdall stood and listened to them argue as if he had all the time in the world. Which, technically, he did. Heimdall’s dark hair was pulled back from his face. His piercing, crystal-gray eyes reflected the glow of the bridge, dancing with burning rainbow colors. Heimdall studied both of the men before him with a cold calculation that sent shivers down Morgan’s spine. Heimdall’s horn, the Gjallarhorn, was strapped to his right side, his sword strapped to his left. The unusual sword, embossed with the face of a man, was said to symbolize his connection to mankind. The silver nails of his left hand tapping against his leather pants, a sure sign that he was about to act.

Travis turned to Kir, his eyes glowing brightly. “The one on the left is—”

Heimdall pulled his sword and plunged it into the chest of the Logan on the right.

“No!” Kir held aloft Gungnir. A vicious wind began to blow across the bridge, nearly knocking Morgan off his feet.

“Kir, stop!” The Logan on the left held up his hands, stepping toward them with all the caution of a mortal approaching a rabid animal. “Blondie, it’s okay.”

The impossible was happening. The branches of Yggdrassil swayed violently as the storm Kir was summoning began to descend on the Bifrost Bridge.

“It’s me, Blondie.” The left-hand Logan took another step toward them. “Do you need me to prove it?”

Kir growled an animalistic sound that had nothing to do with sanity. Morgan was shocked. He’d never heard such a sound from his easygoing brother-in-law.

Logan put his hands over his hips and cocked his eyebrow arrogantly. “Tone it down, tiger. They’re not ready for Plan A-1.”

The wind died abruptly, sending Skye to her knees. Morgan helped her back up as Kir took a step toward the man claiming to be Logan.

“As if a shape shifter could fool me.” Heimdall pointed toward the body on his right. “Look.”

Morgan cursed under his breath. There, lying in a pool of blood, was the frost Jotun Rina Sutherland.

Val turned his back to them all. The Avenger sighed deeply. “Shit.”

Skye ran to Val, hugging him from behind. “I’m so sorry.”

Val shook his head, and Morgan would have given quite a lot to see his expression. “No, Skye. I knew something like this would eventually happen.”

“Still. She was your mother.”

“She gave birth to me. She was never my mother.” Val turned back around, his expression grim. “She chose her path, and she died on it. C’mon. We still need to get to Sleipnir.”

“You were the one we saw on the bridge, the one that passed us?”

Logan nodded as he pulled Kir into his arms. “Sorry, but the phone call I received, supposedly from Jordan? It wasn’t her. I figured it out pretty quickly. When I realized I was dealing with someone pretending to be her, I tried to get out of them what they really wanted. Rina taunted me, said she was going to make sure none of you lived long enough to get past Heimdall. I ran as fast as I could, hoping I could keep Heimdall from attacking you.”

“How’d you make it through the portal so quickly?”

He shrugged. “Sleipnir isn’t the only one who can move really quickly when motivated.” He laughed softy. “Someone pretending to be my wife, hoping to hurt Kir? That’s serious motivation.”

Kir smacked him in the arm. “They weren’t after me, blockhead.”

“No. Turns out she was after me.” Logan glanced back at Rina and shuddered. “I hid and listened to her egging Heimdall on. She wanted him to attack me.”

“It would have fulfilled the prophecy, and in turn devastated Kir.” Skye shook her head. “Grimm put her up to this. The man’s a weasel.”

Heimdall shrugged. “I doubt it. Rina was vicious before she met Odin.” His expression turned smug. “I knew who she was before she even started. I don’t think she ever fully understood the differences between a frost Jotun and the Guardian.”

Logan nodded. “He saw right through her.”

Travis, the glow in his eyes dimming, patted Kir’s back. “If you have the vision, it’s easy to see if someone is pretending to be someone else.”

Heimdall’s expression chilled once more as he stared at Logan. “How do you think I tracked you down that time when you stole Freya’s necklace? Seal or no, I knew immediately that it was you.”

Logan rolled his eyes. When he tried to pull free of Kir to face Heimdall, Kir growled again in that utterly inhuman tone. Logan shushed Kir softly before answering Heimdall. “I was young and foolish.”

Heimdall cocked an eyebrow at Logan. “And now you are old and foolish.”

Logan stuck his tongue out at Heimdall.

Heimdall ignored him. “You’re going to Valhalla.”

Before anyone else could respond, Skye stepped forward, making her way gracefully to stand before the Guardian. “We are. We need to save Sleipnir from Odin.”

Heimdall stared at her for so long Morgan began to fear for her safety. He still held the bloody sword in his hand, the tip resting against the bridge. Sparks flew from where the blade met the fire of the bridge. “Sleipnir was gifted to the All-Father.”

She nodded. “But that was done under duress. Logan was under the influence of Idunn’s apples and labored under the belief that Sleipnir was nothing more than a beast.”

Was that surprise that flashed momentarily in Heimdall’s eyes? “And he is not.” Perhaps the Guardian did not know everything.

She shook her head. “No. He is not. He called us twice, both times to warn his father that Odin had something planned for me.”

Again, some emotion, there and gone in an instant, flashed across Heimdall’s face. “You are no longer truly Skuld.” Morgan saw her shoulders stiffen. “You are Skye, simply another Norn.”

“A Norn who knows when prophecy has been fulfilled.” She gestured toward Rina’s body. “As it has been here.”

Kir gasped, lifting his head to stare into Logan’s eyes. “You’re not going to die.”

Logan held him close. “No, Blondie. I’m safe.”

“For now.” Heimdall eyed them all coldly, but his expression when he turned back to Skye changed drastically. He warmed, his smile gentle as he took Skye’s hand.

Morgan wanted to rip it off and beat him over the head with it.