Behold! The Exclusive Cover Reveal of 'Loki: Where Mischief Lies'
Plus a special excerpt from the first of three young adult novels from New York Times best-selling author Mackenzi Lee!
Some people write off Loki, the God of Mischief, as nothing more than a villain with delusions of grandeur. Luckily for us, Mackenzi Lee is not one of those people. The New York Times best-selling author sees Loki as more than just another trickster baddie. In the first of three young adult novels exploring the untapped potential and duality of heroism within the Marvel Universe for Marvel Press, LOKI: WHERE MISCHIEF LIES makes its debut this September 3!
We've got the first look at the cover below--behold the cover by Stephanie Hans, with book jacket design by Kurt Hartman!
Before the days of going toe-to-toe with the Avengers, a younger Loki is desperate to prove himself heroic and capable, while it seems everyone around him suspects him of inevitable villainy and depravity . . . except for Amora. Asgard's resident sorceress-in-training feels like a kindred spirit-someone who values magic and knowledge, who might even see the best in him.
But when Loki and Amora cause the destruction of one of Asgard's most prized possessions, Amora is banished to Earth, where her powers will slowly and excruciatingly fade to nothing. Without the only person who ever looked at his magic as a gift instead of a threat, Loki slips further into anguish and the shadow of his universally adored brother, Thor.
When Asgardian magic is detected in relation to a string of mysterious murders on Earth, Odin sends Loki to investigate. As he descends upon nineteenth-century London, Loki embarks on a journey that leads him to more than just a murder suspect, putting him on a path to discover the source of his power-and who he's meant to be.
READ AN EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM Loki: Where Mischief Lies BELOW.
Amora’s grasp of the energy was not as elegant as Karnilla’s had been. The lightning forked and danced around the room before finding its way to her. Loki saw the tremble in the glass as she pressed her hands to the black Mirror, then suddenly his side began to sputter with light, like a firework that could not catch. An image flickered, then died, then flickered again, too blurred to be seen clearly.
“It needs more power!” Loki called to Amora, and he heard her draw a deep, ragged breath. The air around them shimmered again.
The image began to sharpen into rows of soldiers. Not soldiers of Asgard—they had no armor, no banners, and they looked instead like feral creatures, pale and foaming and bloated. They were pouring from the observatory that connected Asgard to the Bifrost, along the rainbow bridge toward the capital. A lone figure stood out among the masses of soldiers, planted at the door to the observatory, the glint of a blade in his hand. But the image was too smoky to make out much detail.
Loki balled his hands into fists at his side. He wanted to reach into the scene, wanted to grab this unknown person by the shoulders and demand to know who he was, even if it meant looking into his own face.
“It’s not enough!” he called to Amora as the image flickered again.
“This is all the energy I can summon!” she shouted in return.
Loki leaned forward, pressing his fingers against the glass. Show me, he thought. Show me who it is.
The image flickered, flushed with a clarity that didn’t last long enough for him to make sense of what he was seeing. It was there, right at his fingertips, his future.
He hadn’t realized his own power was gathering in his hands until it burst free. The surface of the Mirror burned with white light, and Loki tumbled backward, his hands searing. He heard Amora cry out on the other side of the Mirror, and he threw his arm up against the impossible light radiating from their combined power, washing out the vision entirely.
The Mirror shattered. The cracks seemed to begin at a point in the center, and then it collapsed upon itself, caving into a slick dust studded with shards as long and sharp as his knives. Several buried themselves in the walls. Loki threw his hands over his face, but Amora cast a spell, some kind of barrier, so that the shards flying toward them bounced off. One flew sideways to the alcove across from them, striking the Tuning Fork. A single crystalline note echoed through the room, so high and clear Loki felt it more than heard it, even over the sound of the breaking Mirror. It rattled his teeth. All the lights in the alcove flared, then winked out, casting them into darkness.
Loki sat up, a fine layer of black dust blossoming from his clothes. He felt coated in it. Across from him, Amora was doubled over, coughing, her blond hair darkened from the dust. He crawled forward to her, his palms burning. “Are you all right?”
She rubbed a hand over her face, smearing the dust into black streaks. “What did you do?”
“I think we overpowered it.”
“We didn’t do anything,” she snapped, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You cast a spell.”
“It was an accident. I was trying to help you.”
“I don’t think your father will care about your intentions.”
He followed her gaze over his shoulder to the remains of the Mirror—black dust and the charred, curled outline of the staves. Panic made his stomach clench, and he thought for a moment he was about to vomit. They had destroyed the Godseye Mirror, one of the most powerful magical items in Odin’s treasure room.
I was powerful enough to destroy the Godseye Mirror.
The thought flickered through him before he could stop it. It should have horrified him. It didn’t. It thrilled him.
I am powerful.
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