Chapter 871

"So you’re saying that person was standing right here on this street? Or you left him inside that building?"

By the time Gabriel was properly sober—or, more accurately, sober enough that her legs had stopped wobbling—she had brought Evenson to a crossroads in New York.

Evenson looked up at the Green Garden Rehabilitation Center.

It was a squat, three-story nursing home that looked as though it had been built several decades ago and then simply forgotten. Calling it "historic" would have been charitable. From another perspective, it was just badly maintained. Evenson wouldn’t have been surprised if the place disappeared beneath a wrecking ball the next time the city decided to redevelop the neighborhood.

"You’re looking for him in there?" he asked.

"Of course."

Gabriel’s eyes were still slightly unfocused. She took a step backward and nearly stumbled into the street.

Evenson caught her by the arm before a passing car could turn her into roadkill.

The moment she regained her balance, Gabriel reached into her robes, pulled out a silver flask trimmed with gold and set with blue gemstones, and took a long drink.

Evenson stared at her.

"Didn’t you swear you’d quit drinking?"

At the Final Commandments, Gabriel had practically wept, sworn on everything sacred, and declared that she would never touch alcohol again.

Apparently, that resolution had lasted about as long as a mortal summer.

Gabriel lowered the flask and exhaled a cloud of alcohol straight into his face.

"God, that’s good."

Evenson sighed.

There was clearly no point arguing.

He followed her into the nursing home.

Fortunately, Gabriel had personally handled the admission paperwork years ago. The nurse at the front desk did give her a curious look, mostly because her once-short hair had somehow become thick and luxuriant, and asked whether she’d used some kind of biotechnology product.

Gabriel offered a vague answer.

The nurse accepted it.

A few minutes later, they reached the activity room on the second floor.

Several elderly men and women were gathered around tables, playing cards and chess. A few others sat nearby, shouting advice at the players.

And then Evenson saw him.

The All-Father was sprawled across a sofa.

Yes.

They had come here looking for Odin.

According to Gabriel, during the period when the Dark Elves invaded, Odin had secretly traveled to Earth. He had appeared outside this very nursing home.

Gabriel, who had been the Sorcerer Supreme at the time, had immediately taken an interest.

What she discovered had left her stunned.

The old man had no idea who she was.

He didn’t know where his home was.

He didn’t know who he was.

After a brief examination, Gabriel had reached two possibilities.

Either someone had placed an extraordinarily powerful illusion on the All-Father...

Or the old man had developed dementia.

Under ordinary circumstances, dispelling the illusion would have been trivial for Gabriel.

But she hadn’t done it.

Asgard had protected Earth from countless threats over the years, but that protection had always come with an ulterior motive. The Asgardians wanted Earth beneath their influence, and Odin himself had been one of the strongest advocates for that arrangement.

Removing a ruler that ambitious from the board wasn’t necessarily bad news for humanity.

Besides, Gabriel hadn’t created the illusion.

If Odin himself had been reduced to this state, then something serious had clearly happened within Asgard’s political structure.

Interfering blindly would only drag Earth into a conflict it didn’t understand.

So Gabriel had decided to play along.

Odin had appeared outside this nursing home.

Perhaps that was where he was meant to be.

She had arranged for him to become a resident and left him there.

If he eventually recovered, he couldn’t blame her. If he never did, that wasn’t her problem either.

She hadn’t told anyone.

The matter was far too sensitive. Whatever had happened to Odin could be connected to Asgard’s internal politics—or even the succession of the throne. The fewer people who knew, the better.

And at the time, Gabriel had already been preparing to step down as Sorcerer Supreme. She had intended to let her successor discover the situation independently.

It would be a useful test.

Unfortunately, years had passed.

Neither Clea nor Strange had noticed that one of the most important beings in the Nine Realms was quietly living in a nursing home on Earth.

They still had a long way to go.

As for Odin himself...

He was not exactly destitute.

He simply no longer looked anything like the mighty All-Father Evenson knew from history.

Once, Odin had rarely been seen without armor.

Now he wore nothing more than a loose beige suit over a white shirt, with no tie.

His enormous beard remained.

So did his long white hair.

And, of course, the golden eyepatch.

Those were apparently the last pieces of the old Odin that had survived.

At the moment, he was sitting on the sofa, staring intently at an ancient black-and-white television with an antenna sticking out of the top.

Except his attention wasn’t really on the program.

The other residents watching beside him eventually grew tired and fell asleep.

The instant they did, Odin moved.

He waited until no one was looking, then kicked the television.

Hard.

The screen immediately erupted into static.

"Oh, dear... What happened?"

Odin’s voice rose in exaggerated distress.

"Someone help this poor old man!"

He struggled to his feet and hurried over to fiddle with the wires behind the television, wearing an expression of such genuine desperation that anyone unfamiliar with him might have thought the old man was about to burst into tears.

Evenson and Gabriel simply stared.

Neither of them had any idea what he was doing.

Then a woman in her thirties stepped out from the back room.

She was Latina, with a warm, full figure, and wore the loose uniform of one of the nursing home’s caregivers.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

The name badge on her chest read:

Moon.

She spotted Odin struggling with the television and immediately hurried over.

"Come on, Old Three. Let me handle that."

Because Odin no longer remembered his own name, Gabriel had registered him under the name Wednesday when she’d admitted him.

The staff had eventually shortened that to Old Three.

Moon helped him back onto the sofa before bending over the television and adjusting the antenna.

"You still haven’t figured out how to fix this thing?"

"That’s better," Odin said eagerly.

"A little farther to the left..."

Moon shifted the antenna.

"Perfect."

Odin’s smile widened.

"Much better."

His eyes, however, weren’t on the television.

They followed Moon as she leaned over the set, his gaze lingering on her figure.

"Beautiful..."

Moon froze.

Slowly, she turned around and planted both hands on her hips.

"Really?"

"Thank you."

Odin’s response was completely sincere.

Moon stared at him for a moment before shaking her head with an exasperated smile.

Then she walked away.

Gabriel covered her face with one hand.

"You see what he’s like now?"

The woman who had once been one of the most powerful beings in existence shook her head helplessly.

"The ruler of the Nine Realms reduced to this."

Evenson gave a stiff, awkward laugh.

"I don’t think there’s much point talking to him right now."

"I agree."

Gabriel reached into her robes and produced her flask again.

Before she could take another drink, Moon returned.

"You’re here to see Wednesday, right?"

Gabriel nodded.

"Yes. We are."

She glanced apologetically toward Odin.

"And I’m sorry. He seems to have caused you some trouble."

Moon blinked.

Then she gave Gabriel a surprisingly suggestive smile.

"Oh, that?"

She waved it off.

"Don’t worry about it. He’s pretty strong."

Gabriel choked.

The mouthful of liquor she’d just swallowed went straight down the wrong pipe.

She bent over, coughing violently.

Evenson stared at Moon.

Then at Odin.

Then back at Moon.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

No wonder she’d walked away so casually.

Evenson considered his options.

Maybe I should just move into this nursing home.

Moon, apparently oblivious to the crisis she’d just caused, pulled out a silver flask.

"Did you bring his medicinal liquor?"

"His what?"

"He’s almost out."

She shook the flask in front of them.

Evenson frowned.

"Medicinal liquor?"

"Oh, right. You probably don’t know."

Moon explained casually, "He drinks this stuff all the time. Maybe that’s why he’s so strong. Someone delivers a batch every month."

She looked between them.

"That wasn’t you?"

"No."

Evenson accepted the flask.

He brought it close enough to smell.

The instant he did, his head spun.

He quickly handed it back.

Moon smiled knowingly.

"Strong, isn’t it?"

Evenson leaned against the wall.

"You could say that."

"He’s always liked hard liquor," Moon continued. "When he first arrived, he even had this tiny flask with him. He claimed it was made from the wreckage of some kind of warship. Said a few drops were enough to knock out an entire crowd."

"His family must have impressive tolerance."

Evenson closed his eyes for a moment.

The smell alone was enough to make his head swim.

Moon noticed.

"Are you all right?"

"I’m fine."

"Want some water?"

"No, thanks. I’ll be fine in a minute."

Moon nodded and left them alone.

Gabriel looked amused.

"Well? That flask pack a punch?"

Evenson grimaced.

He knew enough alchemy to recognize what he’d smelled.

That wasn’t medicinal liquor.

It was a powerful potion.

More importantly, its magical signature was familiar.

It was maintaining the illusion wrapped around Odin.

Evenson straightened as the dizziness finally faded.

"Things in Asgard are getting stranger by the minute."

Gabriel’s expression sobered.

"The real Odin was placed under an illusion and sent to Earth. Yet there’s another Odin in Asgard."

"And that one agreed to let Frigga rule in his place."

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

"So you think Frigga did it?"

"You think the Queen of Asgard drugged Odin, created a fake version of him, and took control of the kingdom?"

"That’s my theory."

Evenson nodded.

"Who else could have done it? Whoever cast the illusion needed both the opportunity to get close to Odin and the ability to create something powerful enough to fool everyone around him."

"Perhaps."

Gabriel shook her head.

"I wouldn’t be so certain."

Evenson looked at her.

"I’ve dealt with Asgard much longer than you have," Gabriel continued. "And I know their people better."

"Loki is called the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms."

She gave him a pointed look.

"Take it from someone who actually knows magic: that title is heavily inflated."

"Loki learned his magic from Frigga."

Evenson’s expression changed.

"So in practical terms, Frigga is the greatest mage in Asgard."

"Exactly."

Evenson nodded.

He knew that much.

Loki had genuine talent, but nearly everything he knew about sorcery came from Frigga.

And his particular talents had developed in a rather... unusual direction.

For someone called a mage, Loki had spent an astonishing amount of effort mastering stealth, deception, and assassination.

His talent for slipping behind Thor and driving a metaphorical dagger between his ribs was frankly impressive.

But talent wasn’t experience.

When it came to raw mastery and control, Loki still had a long way to go before he could rival Frigga.

"Which proves my point," Evenson said. "Only Frigga should have the ability to place an illusion of that level on Odin."

"Perhaps."

Gabriel nodded.

Then shook her head.

"But if Frigga really did it, she wouldn’t need the potion."

Evenson froze.

"Because?"

"Because once Frigga successfully established an illusion, she wouldn’t need an external magical aid to maintain it."

Evenson fell silent.

The potion had been insurance.

A way to ensure the illusion remained intact.

But it was also a weakness.

Something an investigator could discover.

And if Frigga didn’t need it...

Then the list of suspects had just become much shorter.

Loki.

Of course.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

He had been overlooking the God of Mischief.

Everyone believed Loki had died during the Dark Elf invasion.

But considering Loki’s personality—and his abilities—his supposed death had always seemed suspiciously convenient.

"Switching places. Escaping into the shadows."

A smile tugged at Evenson’s lips.

"Hide the real player behind the curtain while someone else takes the blame. That’s one hell of a plan."

"Unfortunately, plans have a way of going wrong."

Gabriel chuckled.

"He likely put Odin down and sent him to Earth because he intended to take the throne himself."

She sighed.

"But it looks like he made one mistake."

Evenson’s smile widened.

"The spider caught the fly."

"Exactly."

His expression softened.

"Poor Loki."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"I almost feel sorry for him."

Evenson looked toward the ceiling.

"I wonder what kind of life he’s living now that he’s fallen into Frigga’s hands."

Deep within the rear gardens of the Golden Palace, Frigga gently supported a terrified fake Odin.

Her smile was warm.

Her voice was even warmer.

"Come now, dear. Time for your medicine."

The false All-Father stared at her in horror.

"If I’d known this was going to happen, I never would have come back."