The Gospel of Loki

by Joanne M. Harris

Odin smiled. “I’ve always found that gold covers shame, if used in sufficient quantities.” I thought he was looking at Freyja as he said it, but that might have been a trick of the light. Skadi shook her head. “Gold? My father’s hoard belongs to me now. So does his empty castle. Gold won’t buy me company, or make me laugh as they do.” She looked enviously down the table towards the seated goddesses, all of them beautiful, carefree, at ease. Odin looked thoughtful. “Is that what you want?” Skadi’s eyes flicked towards Balder. “If I had a husband, then perhaps I could learn to laugh again.” Balder looked distinctly nervous. “A husband? Really?” Skadi said, “Yes. If I could choose one of the Aesir . . .” For a moment Odin considered it. Skadi looked at Balder again. I grinned inside as Golden Boy began to look uncomfortable. “Well?” said Skadi. “Is it a deal?” Odin nodded. “All right. As long as this ends the hostility.” Skadi’s eyes lit. “All right. Then I choose — ” “I’ll let you take your pick,” he said. “But on one condition. We’ll stand all our eligible men behind a screen, with only their feet on display. Then you’ll choose. You’ll choose your husband by his feet. Agreed?” I stared at him. I mean, really. His feet? What new perversion was this? But Skadi nodded and said, “Agreed.”