“‘Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it’,” Summer quoted, softly. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, liesmith.” Closing her eyes, she spread one hand out in the air, reaching.
There.
“There’s someone here, alright.” Thought and fear drew her wings to blazing life, casting brilliance over the barren rock. “Do we go to them, or they to us?”
“I am no coward,” Loki spoke just above a whisper, mostly just to convince himself. ”We will find them. Do you know how many?” He cursed his own magic for being so lacking in comparison to her abilities. It was not his style to rely on others, but this would have to do.
He looked around quickly, wary. The air hummed faintly, far off noises drifting to them in the heavy dark.
“Two. Close together. A blur of others, pooling together, very faint. Almost … stuttering. As if they don’t feel at all, or not much.” Summer could feel the flame, pooling in her veins, waiting to be called into death.
“Do you fly? I’m pretty sure I can’t carry you.”
He snorted. ”That would be convenient, but no. We shall travel by foot.” We cannot all be Thor. He imagined her suspicions pointed to Thanos, some sort of bodyguard, and a grouping of his mindless followers.
And if his mind still served him, he knew exactly where they would be. He had been there before. The memory made him shiver. ”Come.”
The walk was long, and dull, and boring. Summer occupied herself tilting her head back to stare at the sky, trying to match the stars with anything familiar at all. It was a fruitless exercise, but better than watching the dull, lifeless rock and dirt surrounding them. She supposed it could be worse — whatever sun this place had could be up, rendering it blazingly hot. Or blindingly bright.
It was possible, she mused, that there was no sun here. Just the cold, distant stars in the velvet black of space. How achingly lonely that would be. She shivered, and wrapped her arms around herself.