EIGHT
I didn’t see Ben at all the following morning, but I didn’t expect to, given that sunlight was not his friend. Instead I spent a fruitless six hours with the Vikings as we searched the town of Brustwarze for signs of either Loki or the man the Vikings claimed was his son.
“You’re sure you saw him yesterday?” I asked them as we stopped for a quick lunch at an out-of-the-way café.
“I am sure it was Nori,” Eirik said with a stubborn set to his chin.
“But you didn’t see him later on, after I went back to the Faire?”
“No.” He scowled at the waiter who brought our food, the latter hurrying away quickly when Eirik fingered his (still thankfully ammo-less) Walther P38. “We searched most diligently until it was time for our rape.”
I blinked at the word, thinking I must have misheard. “Y
