"I know you," said Maddy. "You’re -"
“What’s a name?” Loki grinned. “Wear it like a coat; turn it, burn it, throw it aside, and borrow another. One-Eye knows; you should ask him.”
“But Loki died,” she said, shaking her head. “He died on the field at Ragnarok.”
“Not quite.” He pulled a face. “You know there’s rather a lot the Oracle didn’t foretell, and old tales have a habit of getting twisted.”
“But in any case, that was centuries ago,” Maddy said bewildered. “I mean - that was the End of the World, wasn’t it?”
“So?” said Loki impatiently. “This isn’t the first time the world has come to an end, and it won’t be the last either."
The Raven King
Not long, not long my father said
Not long shall you be ours
The Raven King knows all too well
Which are the fairest flowers.
The priest was all too worldly
Though he prayed and rang his bell
The Raven King three candles lit
The priest said it was well
Her arms were all too feeble
Though she claimed to love me so
The Raven King stretched out his hand
She sighed and let me go
The land is all too shallow
It is painted on the sky
And trembles like the wind-shook rain
When the Raven King goes by
For always and for always
I pray remember me
Upon the moors, beneath the stars
With the King’s wild company.