“She’s your daughter?” whispered Maddy as they went.

Loki nodded. He seemed unconcerned, though Maddy guessed that he was playing a game. And a dangerous one, she told herself; there was clearly no love lost between Hel and her father.

“I wasn’t much of a parent,” he said. “Then again, neither was her mother. Quite mad, but alluring-like all demons-though in the end we should never have had children. Too much Chaos in both of us. Hel’s actually pretty normal-looking compared to the rest of the clan. Aren’t you, Hel?”

Hel did not reply, though her living shoulder stiffened in rage. Maddy wondered anxiously whether it was entirely wise for Loki to bait Hel on her own ground, but the Trickster did not seem worried.

“Do you know, Loki,” said Hel, stopping abruptly, “I’ve been trying to work you out. This is my realm, the realm of the dead. In it, I am all-powerful; what comes here belongs to me. And yet here you are, unarmed and unprotected. You seem very sure I’ll let you live.”

Loki looked amused. “What makes you think I’m unprotected?”

Hel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t bullshit me, Trickster,” she said. “You’re alone.”

“Quite alone,” agreed Loki comfortably.

“What exactly do you want?”

Loki smiled. “An hour,” he said.

“An hour?” said Hel.

“In Netherworld.”

Hel’s other eyebrow went up. “Netherworld?” she said. “I suppose you mean Dream?”

Loki shook his head. “I mean Netherworld,” he said, still smiling. “More specifically, the Black Fortress.”

“I always knew you were mad,” said Hel. “You escaped, didn’t you? And you want to go back?”

“More importantly,” said Loki, “I want to be sure I can get out again.”

Hel’s eyebrows went down again. “Now that’s humor,” she said, straight-faced. “It’s almost worth waiting another five hundred years for the punch line.”

Loki shook his head impatiently. “Come on, Hel. I know you can do it. You can’t be so close to the Black Fortress for so many years without getting a few-let’s say, unauthorized insights about how it works.”

Hel gave a half smile. “Maybe so,” she said. “But it’s a dangerous game. Open the fortress, even for an hour, and who knows what might escape from there-into Dream, into Death, perhaps even into the Middle Worlds. Why should I do it? What’s in it for me?”

“One hour,” said Loki. “One hour inside. After that, I’m out of your hair, all debts paid, for ever and ever.”

Hel’s eyes narrowed. “Debts?” she said. Her rage seemed to freeze Maddy to the bone.

“Come on, Hel. You know you owe me.”

“Owe you what?”

Loki smiled. “Don’t be demure. It doesn’t suit you. How is Golden Boy these days, anyway? Still as charming? Still as beautiful? Still as dead?”

The bones of Hel’s dead hand ground audibly together.

Maddy looked anxiously at Loki.

“You’ll like this, Maddy,” he said, still grinning. “It’s a roller-coaster love story through space, death, and time. Boy meets girl-she loves him madly, but he doesn’t even notice her, being too busy charming the hel out of everyone he meets, and besides, she’s not what you’d call a looker, plus she lives in a bad part of town. So she makes a deal. I do her a little favor. She gets Golden Boy all to herself for a slice of eternity, and I get a favor in return. Which favor I’m calling in. Right here, right now.”

“You really are a bastard, Loki,” Hel said in a flat voice.

“I hate to be bitchy, sweetheart, but you weren’t exactly born in wedlock yourself.”

Hel sighed. She didn’t need to-she hadn’t actually breathed in centuries-but somehow Loki brought out the worst in her every time. Still, they’d had a deal, she’d sworn an oath, and an oath of any kind, however foolish, was sacred to one who lived and worked at the balancing point between Order and Chaos.

Bitterly she considered her oath. She’d been younger then (not that that was any excuse), inexperienced in the ways of World and Underworld. Blind enough and foolish enough to believe in love; arrogant enough to believe that she might be the exception to the rule.

And Balder was beautiful. The god of spring blossom; the golden-haired; the good, the kind, the pure in heart. Everybody loved him, but Hel, from her silent kingdom, longed for him most of all. She came to him at first in dreams, weaving her most seductive fantasies for his pleasure, but Balder recoiled, complaining of nightmares and troubled sleep, grew anxious, pale, and fearful, until Hel realized that he hated her as fiercely as he loved life itself, and her cold heart grew colder still as she planned how she could make him hers.

It takes a certain cunning to kill a god. Loki had it, arranged it so that the guilt fell on another, and when Mother Frigg reached out with her glamours, entreating the Nine Worlds to plead for Balder’s return, Loki alone did not beg, so that Balder remained forever at Hel’s side, a pale king to her dark queen.

But the victory was bitter. She’d dreamed of having Balder all to herself, had heard stories, in fact, of a previous Guardian of the Underworld who’d gained a similar prize by means of guile and a handful of pomegranate seeds. But Balder dead had none of the charm of Balder in life. Gone was his light step, his merry voice, the sunshine gleam of his golden hair. He was cold now, cold and expressionless, speaking only when conjured to do so, animated only by Hel’s own glamours. Dead was dead, it seemed, even for gods. And now she would have to pay the price.

“So,” Loki said. “Do we have a deal?”

For a timeless time Hel walked on in silence. They followed her through plague-white gates, through crypts and repositories of bone, across mosaics fashioned from human teeth and sepulchres vaulted with varnished skulls. They moved down, and here at last were the catacombs, stretching to infinity in every direction, festooned with the lace of a million spiders.

She paused along an avenue of stone; on either side there were archways, beneath which a multitude of narrow chambers lay.

“Don’t look,” said Loki quietly.

But Maddy couldn’t help it. The chambers were dark but lit as they passed, and inside Maddy saw the dead, some sitting, some standing, as they had in life, some with half-familiar faces turning toward the unaccustomed warmth, then turning away as the visitors passed, the chamber dimming once more into the murky half-light of Hel.

Hel gestured with her dead hand, and a chamber to the right of them brightened and lit. Within it Maddy saw two young men, both pale and red-haired and bearing such a strong resemblance to Loki that she caught her breath.

“They killed us,” said one of the pale young men. “They killed us both because of you.”

Hel’s half smile broadened to ghastly effect.

Loki said nothing, but averted his eyes.

They went on apace. Once more Hel raised her dead hand, and in a chamber to her left a sad-looking woman with soft brown hair turned her face toward the light.

“Loki,” she said. “I waited for you. I waited, but you never came.”

Loki said nothing, but his expression was unusually grim.

A few minutes later Hel stopped again, and in front of her, a chamber lit. Within it Maddy saw the most beautiful young man she had ever seen. His hair was gold, his eyes blue, and though he was pale with the colors of death, he seemed to shine like a fallen star.

“Balder,” said Loki. He made it sound like a curse somehow.

“I’m waiting for you,” Balder said. “There’s a place at my side for you, my friend. No man is clever enough to cheat Death, and I can wait-it won’t be long.”

Again Loki swore and turned away.

Hel smiled again. “Had enough?” she said.

Wordlessly Loki nodded.

“And what about you?” she said to Maddy. “Any old friends you’d like to see?”