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Mallory stood above me, which was a terrifying sight since she had about eight knives on her person. One in particular stood out to me because its blade was pointed right at my chest. I rolled out of immediate slicing range, though I knew Mallory could probably slice me in a second at any distance.
I blinked away the fatigue of dying brutally in a daily battle to the death, and said, "Is the blade really necessary?"
Mallory grimaced. "Desperate times. You wake fastest with a weapon to your throat." She turned, strode to my door to the hall, and opened it. A sword flew in. No, not like Jack. It flew in the regular way, which is to say it traveled in a parabola and nearly impaled me as it clattered on the ground. Outside, loud sounds of metal clanging echoed, followed by several different screams. I jumped up from my bed and hurried over to Mallory's side. My vision swam a little.
Floor nineteen was a hurricane of weapons and miscellaneous other things. Vases hit walls and shattered, dozens of arrows flew by, black and white feathers filled the air, and bizarrely, slices of pizza wizzed by, dripping cheese on the floor.
I stuck my head out the door, trying to see what was causing all this commotion. There were so many feathers that I couldn't see beyond a few feet down the hall. A pizza slice hit me solidly on my right ear. I drew back before anything sharper and pointier could go through my head.
Just as I was about to ask Mallory what was going on, a giant ostrich appeared in our line of sight. It had bent its neck in order to fit in the hall. Its wings were heavily donned with black feathers, with white on the tips. The huge wings flapped so hard that the resulting wind almost knocked me down, while even more feathers floated about in the air. The ostrich halted, picked up a sword in its mouth, and drop-kicked it violently towards my general direction. I threw myself inside my room as Mallory ducked the other way. The sword hit the floor dully and spun on the carpet.
Then the ostrich ran out of sight.
Mallory sighed. "Fierro. She's gone mad, don't know why. Halfborn's been killed by those ostrich legs and haven't woken yet. TJ's gone to some activity to the death. And I really need to get to my room in one piece. I can't afford to die this close to tonight." She was referring to Frigg and her sudden invite to a mother-daughter dinner. She insisted it was a purely strategic move for her to attend; a meeting with a goddess that could tell the future would surely benefit us.
I didn't think that was the only reason she had agreed to go.
She rocked back and forth on her heels, then gave me a look. "Besides, you're the idiot that's probably the most qualified to calm her down. You and Alex have a 'Thing.'" She made air quotes with her fingers. I remembered some instances she might have been referring to as a 'thing,' and blushed. I hoped it didn't show through the unbelievable amount of ostrich feathers flying around.
But unfortunately, whatever a thing we had was, it didn't give me any ideas about how to calm Alex down. I contemplated running out there, but an arrow quivering on the wall next to my room stopped that thought. In the end I just called out, "Alex?"
Ostrich Alex ran by my door again as if she heard, though it may just have been her preplanned route of destruction. I coughed out a feather that had floated in my throat. Seeing my blank look, Mallory rolled her eyes and said, "Use that peace trick you've got from your summery dad."
I doubted that would halt Alex, but I concentrated anyway. I was just starting to glow when Alex appeared again and morphed into human. Her eyes were scowling, almost closed. Her hair was wild and full of feathers. She glared at me and my glowing self as she violently flung a spear off to the side without looking. "Don't you dare, Chase."
It was too late. The sword Alex held in her hand dropped, as did the four arrows in her other hand. Alex's garrote untangled and fell from her wrist. She was immobile for a moment, and for the strangest second I thought I saw her eyes fill with tears. I barely registered the sound of Mallory's eight knives landing on the floor one after the another.
Then Alex snatched her garrote up and ran to her room. The feathers settled. Melted cheese dripped down my neck. Mallory checked her watch nervously and jogged over to her room without a word.
I followed Alex and knocked on her doorframe, since the door was wrenched out of its hinges and lay in the hall. Alex marched through her entrance hall, into the central atrium, and began smashing her pots against the wall.
"Hey," I called softly. She didn't stop. "Can I come in?"
She began to tear the half-dried mugs by hand, some of which had intricately carved designs. I knew nothing about pottery, but I'd seen her work long hours to make tiny indents into one mug.
She nodded with a jerk of her head. I walked in, avoiding shards scattered across the floor. Alex moved on to planters, some with plants in them. She pulled a green sprout out of a white heart-shaped planter and threw the whole thing on the ground. She brought her foot down on it, shattering it to a million pieces.
She sat down with a thud on her bench. I gingerly sat next to her, wondering if I was going to get smashed into the wall. But I liked that outcome far better then Alex shattering herself.
Her fists were balled up at her sides. Her head was dropped and I couldn't see the expression on her face. I didn't think she was restraining herself from more violence. She just looked tired.
We sat there for a long time. Alex stared at her lap and I stared at the unbroken pots lined up at her wall.
Then she spoke. "Can you... shut the door."
I looked at the door, lying on the floor with its hinges broken.
She almost snarled, "block the door." I knew how she must have felt with her room and herself on full display to the hallway. Our rooms in hotel Valhalla were a safe place for each of us. And Alex was a very private person.
That was why I got up wordlessly and looked around for something to lean the heavy oak door against. A huge shoe closet seemed to be tall enough, so I dragged it to the entrance, my einherji strength on full power. Then I leaned the oak door on it and balanced it. As I made my way back, it occured to me that I'd have to take it back down to leave. Well, either that or Alex would end up kicking my butt up the huge tree in the atrium.
Alex still sat in the same position. She glanced at the blocked doorway. Her shoulders relaxed, her legs stretched out, and I saw the murderous ostrich in her fade slowly. Bits of the Alex that serenely smoothed ridges in clay came back. She dragged a hand up her hair, the green strands rippling and flopping down on her face.
Maybe she was calmer now. I wanted to choose my words carefully, but I ended up just asking "What happened?"
Alex grimaced. I added, "I could just go, if you want." I actually stood up, but to my surprise, Alex reached out and tapped my wrist.
"I..." she screwed her face up. I stared. I wasn't used to her getting words stuck in the throat. "I skipped the death battle, went out for some mortal pizza and saw them today. Him and... his wife. Their children."
"Your dad's family?" I asked gently.
"They're all nothing to me." Alex spat. "Look, I figured that, well. They're terrible. Stupid. They forced me out. But whatever. I'm used to it. My dear mother also did all of that." Every word seemed to pain her, but she kept spitting each syllable out. "Now Loki's in some cave alone being tortured. But my human 'family'? They're out shopping in a mall. It's stupid, but I subconsciously thought that maybe-" tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, but they didn't disappear. "I thought they would be miserable too, like maybe some cosmic force gave them payback like it did for Loki. So I didn't go and decapitate the lot."
She began to cry. "Gods, it's stupid. They were laughing. The kids were skipping around like idiots. The smallest one was blowing bubbles. Anyone would look at them and see a happy family."
I knew the feeling. Not the vengeance. That I had spent on the wolves I fought. But I knew how jealousy felt. I tried not to feel it, but sometimes I saw a mother and something rose in my stomach. I couldn't imagine being in Alex's place, though. The glimpses I involuntarily had of her past wasn't at all great.
I tentatively raised my arm and set it on her shoulder. Then I waited for her to bite my head off.
She didn't.
I wasn't used to offering comfort at all. Alex was the default person the kids at Chase Space went to when they were angry or needed to cry. I was mostly an entertainer for them. But looking at Alex cry... I felt an urge to act, to do something. I wanted to ask my dad to make the sunlight follow her wherever she went. I wanted to find the Mr. Fierro and, I don't know, subject him to Jack singing Chandelier by Sia. No, he didn't even deserve that. I briefly thought of other things I could do to him. Then I looked at Alex, tears running down her face, and realized it wasn't my place to get revenge.
Instead, I reached out with my other arm and hugged her. She didn't pull away, but she went stiff and muttered, "I don't need your sympathy."
"I know." I wanted to say more, but my brain didn't give me any words. But maybe that was the correct answer, because little by little, Alex relaxed, and leaned into me. I held her and felt her harsh breaths as she sobbed.
"It's..." I hesitated. Maybe Alex would think I was treating her like a baby, but I thought it was worth it. "It's going to be all right."
"Not really." Alex said, her voice remarkably clear despite the sobs that rocked me and her both. "I'm sorry, I know you're trying, but it's an empty promise."
Even if she didn't believe it, I still wanted to tell her.
"I promise I'll try to make it all okay."
A moment passed, and Alex seemed to sob even harder, rocking up and down violently. I pulled back slightly and looked at her in alarm. She was laughing. "You sound cheesier than a low-budget Christmas movie." She reached over to a Hotel Valhalla box of tissues and wiped her face. "There's nothing to make okay, really. I just still had that notion that there's good and it always conquers bad," Alex said flippantly.
I recalled the moment I realized I had no choice but to run because the actual police thought I'd murdered my mom. "I'm... sorry. I guess I get it."
Alex looked away after a long moment. She blew air out slowly, her cheeks puffed. "Well. Do I have to say that you can't speak of this to anyone or I'll gut you?"
"I'll just take the implied meaning," I said. I wondered if I'd ever stop being terrified of her. I hoped not, to be honest. It was sort of hard not to look away when she was terrifying.
"Great." She stood up and jogged over to the entrance hall, where the oak door still leaned on the shoe closet. In one swift movement she swung her garrote through the gap between the leaning door and the top of the doorway, then tugged. The door broke in half to reveal a shoe closet that was also halved. I gaped. Alex said, "It would be a pain to watch you drag that door away slowly."
She kicked at some splinters while I made my way to the doorway. When I passed her, she looked up. We locked eyes. Her mouth opened slightly, and I froze. Her eyes glimmered in the lamplight.
"Don't feel sorry for me, Chase," she finally said. As I walked out, I heard a faint "but thanks."