Hexed

said, » Don’t try to talk me out of this with Druidic word games. The ontological nature of a mythical tree does not include details on soil chemistry. It is a magical tree, and so it will grow magically regardless of soil chemistry. «
    Clever witch. » It may grow magically anywhere, I grant you, but most likely only at Idunn’s behest. «
    » That is a distinct possibility. « Laksha shrugged. » But we will never know until I give it a try. «
    The temptation to get up and walk away nearly overwhelmed me: This wasn’t my fight. It was Malina’s. And if her covern couldn’t hack it, then Leif could tear them apart, or Magnusson would sic his boys on them once they screwed enough of his clients. I hadn’t lived for 2,100 years by volunteering to take point in every magical scrap in my neighborhood. Besides, I had an apprentice to protect and teach now. Granuaile and I could go anywhere and set up shop under a new identity, leaving these covens and other creatures to claw at one another for the privilege of drawing comfortable consulting salaries and living in glass towers. I almost did it; my leg twitched and my shoulders tensed.
    But .
    There was the dead land around Tony Cabin to resurrect. That was definitely my fight—a vitally important one—and no one else could fight it for me. It would take care of itself in another thousand years or so, but healing it now would erase all traces of Aenghus Óg’s work in the world, and I couldn’t let it lie when I’d been indirectly responsible for it happening. Its very existence nagged at me; I felt it through the tattoos binding me to the earth. It was like a necrotic wound on the back of one’s hand that might allow the limb to function but slowly poisons the sense of health and harmony a soul needs for peace. Still, it would take me years to restore that land, which meant I’d have to stay in town and guard the proverbial castle.
    It also meant I’d have to play nicely in the sandbox and pitch in when Malina needed help. She at least was willing to live peaceably with me, while die Töchter des dritten Hauses had forcefully demonstrated they were not.
    Another thing to consider was the likelihood that I was under surveillance and could not disappear as easily as I had in the past. Father Gregory and Rabbi Yosef certainly seemed to be watching me closely or were in close contact with someone else who was. Like it or not, I had raised my profile considerably by killing Aenghus Óg, and if various beings decided they would like to test themselves against me, I’d be better off defending myself in a place where I’d had years to build up wards.
    But why did Fortune seem to be pushing me into a street fight with Thor? Stealing the golden apples of Idunn would rouse him as surely as would sitting down on a porcupine.
    » Have you been talking to my lawyer, Leif Helgarson? « I asked Laksha. » Pale, spooky bastard with blond hair and an English business suit? «
    » No. « She shook her head and frowned. » I thought your lawyer was the werewolf we rescued in the mountains. «
    » He is. I have two lawyers, but they both hate Thor. Did either of them put you up to this? «
    » Most of the world hates Thor. « Laksha smiled. » But, no, they have not spoken with me about this. «
    » Is this your way, then, of getting me to fight him? It seems like everyone wants to put us in the Thunderdome and buy front-row seats. «
    » No, this is my way of preserving this body so that I avoid further karmic debt. «
    I sighed to release some of the tension in my muscles and rubbed my eyes with my knuckles. » All right. Let’s think this through. If your goal is to grow your own apple tree with the super-duper fruit of eternal youth, you don’t actually need all of Idunn’s apples, right? You only need one for the seeds. «
    » No. « Laksha shook her head again and tapped the table repeatedly to emphasize her point. » I want them all, in case I get a dud. «
    » Well, I want to have a chance of living through this if I’m going to consider it. If I steal one apple, I might be able to get away without anyone noticing, because the mythology says she keeps her apples in a basket and it’s always full. But if I steal the whole lot, every single Norse god will be after me—and after you too, I might add. Be reasonable. One apple will suffice. «
    » How can I be assured the apple you bring me is Idunn’s? «
    » Well, it’ll be golden, for one thing, and after you