Kevan was in no mood to haggle over the ownership of a horse, so he helped Thrud mount and then leaped on in front of her. He was no sooner in the saddle than the gray horse sped through the gates. When the eight legs really got to working, Kevan realized that they were traveling faster than he'd ever gone in his life. "I must remember," he thought to himself, "to look for eight-legged horses the next time I go to the riding academy." Back over the trail toward Bifrost sped the gray horse. Once far off to the left Kevan caught sight of a warrior who looked like Odin battling with a giant wolf. They were almost to the rainbow bridge when their way was barred by another horseman, with drawn sword. The gray horse reared, six legs threshing the air, which kept Kevan busy for a few minutes just staying on. When that was finally accomplished, he recognized the horseman as Loki. Recognition came to Loki at the same moment and he lowered the sword. "Hello, Kevan MacGreene," he said with an odd smile. "I owe you too much to bar your way. Go on--as far as you can." "Well, Mr. Loki," Kevan said. "I thought you'd be home--er--watching television. What happened?" "Thanks to you, I'm free," Loki said. "It was decreed that there was only one way that I could get free--when the greed and lust and vice and warfare of men became great enough that it would give me the strength to break my chains. But it is long since we've had contact with mortals. Then, due to what you call television, I was able to see the men of your world. There were men whose greed robbed other men. There were men whose lust destroyed all before them. There were men whose vices corrupted the innocent and enslaved the free. And there was warfare on such a scale as never imagined by gods. As I watched, my strength grew." "You watched the wrong people," Kevan said. "There are many good people--although I suppose you don't hear much of them. Still, I'm glad you were able to get free." Loki's gaze switched to Kevan's companion. "Thrud," he said, "I'm sorry, but Ragnarok cannot be held back by a mere romance.... Goodbye, Kevan MacGreene." He spurred his horse and was gone. The gray, eight-legged horse was half way over the rainbow bridge before Kevan realized that the girl behind him was no longer the happy person who had started with him. He twisted in the saddle and looked at her. The tears were streaming down her face. "What's wrong?" he asked. "It's Ragnarok," the girl said between sobs. "But why are you crying?" Kevan asked, bewildered. "Your Uncle Loki seemed happy that it was Ragnarok." "He would be," the girl said bitterly. "Don't you understand, Kevan, Ragnarok is the end of the world." "Oh, pshaw," scoffed Kevan. "People are always predicting the end of the world whenever there's a little argument."