Deep in the tunnels beneath Boston, Odin continues to stumble through the dim maze, one hand on the wall as he splashes through the shallow water. Time plays tricks; he may have been days or weeks down there.
    A faint splash. He spins and seizes the lunging alligator; there is a brief struggle and a snapping sound. Odin regains his feet.
    Sitting on a ledge fifteen feet away is a raven, regarding him with somber intensity.
    "What? You're a sign! Yes. No, no, you will be my thought! But, that's wrong, I should have two of you...."
    The raven leaps into the air and flaps its wings once, and there are two.

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