by Joan Holub
As soon as his chariot and goats were secured, Thor grabbed one of the Valhallateria’s V-shaped handles and pulled the door open wide. “After you,” he said gallantly. Then he stepped aside to let Sif pass.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Thor was full of surprises. She hadn’t known this rough, tough, superstrong guy could also be so polite!
Inside, Sif glanced around for her podmates, but they weren’t there yet. Only a few students were at the tables so far, seated in chairs that had wooden shields as seats and backs, and bent spears for legs. Thor continued to hold the door open for some other students after Sif had passed through. So she walked on a few steps without him, thinking she might go grab something to drink and wait for her friends. Then she saw something that made her freeze in her tracks.
Oh no! The one girl she really, really did not want to see was sitting at a table close by. The girl’s back was to her, but Sif would have recognized that black, short-cropped hair anywhere. It was Lofn—her used-to-be best friend! The one she’d done the nearly tragic Horrible Thing to back in second grade. Familiar guilt over the memory filled her.
The two of them had been the only ones chosen from their village to attend Asgard Academy. Fortunately, they didn’t often run into each other. It helped that they had no classes together. And also that Lofn tended to hang out in her sleeping pod more than in the common area of Vingolf Hall. Sif had a feeling they were both making an effort to avoid each other.
Suddenly Lofn’s head turned. Yikes! Sif sped off before their gazes could connect, heading for Heidrun, the big ceramic goat fountain that stood on a table in the middle of the dining hall. The apple juice that spurted into a trough from the fountain’s many spigots was made from the special gold-colored apples that Idun collected. The ones that kept all the goddesses and gods youthful.
Apparently done with his self-assigned door-holding duties, Thor came over to the goat fountain now too. The table it stood upon had a pedestal shaped like a stout tree trunk and green-painted leaves that formed a flat, rectangular top. Rows of drinking horns and short, green, round-bottomed cups called hrimkalders were stacked on the tabletop among its green-painted leaves. She and Thor took hrimkalders and began to fill them from Heidrun’s spigots.
As Sif waited for her cup to fill, her eyes automatically flicked to the big red emergency button that was encased in a glass dome on a wooden column behind the table. The button was labeled:
X540
Push only
in the event
of Ragnarok
Like the Horrible Thing involving Lofn, Ragnarok was something she preferred not to think about. In Ragnarok Survival Skills class they’d learned that it was a terrible event that would happen sometime in the future, leading to the destruction of all nine worlds! As for the significance of the number 540, none of the students knew what it meant, and none dared break the glass and press the button to find out. Not even Loki!
When both of their cups were full, Sif gave Thor a quick nod and then headed for a table far from Lofn to wait for her podmates. Once she was seated, she glanced toward the fountain again. Thor was still standing near it looking around for his friends, who hadn’t arrived yet either. His eyes flicked toward her and, once again, their eyes caught.
“Crushes often start with just looking,” Freya had said. Scratch that, thought Sif. This was not a crush, not yet at least. But couldn’t friendship start with just looking too?
Thor appeared a little lost standing there. It seemed dumb, not to mention mean, to ignore him, so she waved him over. Because it was the polite thing to do. When he drew near, she said, “Want to sit with me till our friends get here?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, sounding pleased. He plopped into a chair across the table from her, and they sat silently sipping their drinks for about a minute. Then he jumped in with, “Hey, thanks for . . . um . . . the save back there with my chariot. It was cool of you to go out on a limb for me.” His eyes twinkled at her.
Sif grinned at his joke about her rowan transformation. “Yeah, well, glad I could help. I could see you were shaking like a leaf there for a second.”
At this, Thor laughed, his voice booming across the V and turning some heads. Yes, this boygod was big and often loud. And he sometimes lost his temper and was too quick to want to fight. But now she saw that he could also be good-natured, with the same kind of goofy humor she had.
It was nice of him to thank her, even though she hadn’t exactly intended to rescue him. That had been a lucky accident—unlike the accident itself, which she was sure had been intentional. That Loki!
Just then a group of Valkyries appeared from the kitchen. Those muscular cafeteria ladies all wore gleaming metal helmets with tall wings on either side and carved Vs in front. Across their chests they wore breastplates with rows of loops down the front that held silver spoons and knives and fresh rolled-up napkins. Each Valkyrie carried a six-foot-wide tray loaded with many steaming bowls of food, as well as baskets of bread and cheese—all balanced on one hand.
“Everyone, take a seat! It’s time to eat!” the armor-clad servers sang out in loud, operatic voices. (Hmm. Did Bragi write that rhyming song for them? Sif wondered. Could be! )
Whoosh! Large wings sprouted from the Valkyries’ backs, causing them to lift off a foot or so above the ground. They flew in different directions to pass out the food and cutlery. Momentarily distracted by them, Sif and Thor watched as they set places at tables and handed out bowls of lamb and cabbage stew with military efficiency.
The dining hall had begun to fill with students, but neither Sif’s nor Thor’s podmates had arrived yet. So they kept sitting together. Tearing his eyes away from the cafeteria ladies and the delicious-smelling stew they were handing around, Thor leaned across the table toward Sif. “So what was your runeword in class today? You didn’t get called on, and I was wondering.”
She shrugged. “Mjollnir.”
“Any idea what it foretold? Since you can see the future, whatever you saw in your runeword would come true, right?” His eyes gleamed with interest. Why hadn’t she noticed their striking color until now? They were the blue of a glacier lit by sunshine! There was an intelligence behind those eyes that put the lie to Loki’s “dummy” taunt. Loki had called Thor ugly, too. Sif wished she could tell him that he wasn’t dumb or ugly. But that might give him the wrong idea about how she felt about him.
“I guess it could mean that we’re going to be getting some new tool or method for crushing enemy giants. Because, you know, the definition of mjollnir is—”
“ ‘To crush,’ ” Thor supplied. As if to illustrate, he pounded one fist into the palm of his other hand.
Thank goodness that other meaning of the word “crush”—the liking meaning that Freya had mentioned—didn’t occur to him!
“What do you think the new tool or method will be?” he asked eagerly.
Before she could tell him that this information hadn’t revealed itself to her (not yet, anyway), the dishes and cutlery on other tables around them began to rattle so hard that some fell to the floor. The tables lurched back and forth, and a low thumping sound reached everyone’s ears.
She and Thor leaped to their feet, eyes rounding big. “What’s happening?” Sif wondered aloud.
“Earthquake!” someone yelled from across the room.
“No! Giantquake!” Thor yelled back. The expression on his face was grim as he glanced at Sif and murmured, “Same thing happened while I was on guard duty today. Frost giants were holding marching drills in the mountains.”
Sif gasped. “This sounds a lot closer than that.”
“Yeah. They’re getting more daring. Something’s up,” said Thor. “I’d better go check with Odin. See if he wants some of us doing double guard duty.” Before Sif could even say good-bye, he was across the room in a few quick strides. He lifted one of the bowls of stew from a Valkyrie’s tray and took it with him, exiting the V minutes before Freya, Skade, and Idun entere
d.
The three girls raced over to Sif. “Did you feel that rocking and rolling just now?” Freya asked as she, Idun, and Skade sat down around Sif’s table.
“Yeah!” said Sif, dropping back into her own seat. “Thor said it was caused by giants!”
Skade, who was of course a half-giant, groaned and rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Sometimes my relatives are sooo embarrassing! Always making trouble.”
Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank! An efficient Valkyrie had reached their table and plunked down four bowls of stew and cutlery, then zoomed off before the girls could thank her.
As the four girlgoddesses dug into their food, Freya went on. “We passed Thor on the way in and, um, Ratatosk was telling him some . . . stuff.”
Sif noticed her three friends share a worried look. Ratatosk was an extra-large squirrel that loved to spread gossip to stir up trouble. He continually ran up and down Yggdrasil’s trunk, branches, and roots carrying news from the tip-top of the tree, where an eagle sat, to the very bottom of the third ring, where Nidhogg the root-nibbling dragon lurked.
“What stuff?” asked Sif between bites of her lamb and cabbage stew. Mmm. Delicious.
“Seems there are reports from Midgard,” Idun informed her. “Reports saying the giants have been sneaking into farmers’ fields at night and cutting down wheat to stockpile it for their troops.”
“What? No!” Sif said in dismay. Those crops fed all nine worlds. She hadn’t ever mentioned it to her podmates, but it was her job to watch over them. Her golden hair’s magic was what protected the wheat and made it grow abundantly! “That’s not fair. The wheat is to be shared. We have to stop them!” She looked around wildly, unsure what to do.
Idun frowned. “Giants must grow wheat of their own in Jotunheim, though. So why would they need Midgard’s wheat too?”
“Good question,” said Freya, dipping a piece of bread in her stew. The girls all looked at Skade. As a half-giant, she ought to know the answer.
Skade swallowed a big bite of bread and cheese, then said, “Sure, plenty of wheat grows in Jotunheim. So, though it hurts me to say this, being half-giant myself, I have to wonder if this wheat-stealing could be part of some bigger plot.”
“If that were true, wouldn’t your family tell you, or some of the girlgiants here at AA?” asked Freya.
Skade let out a sigh. “Not necessarily. We giants can be a sneaky bunch. Information is often on a need-to-know basis.” She turned to Sif. “Speaking of sneaky, I wonder if Loki knows anything about all this. Did you ever catch up to him?”
“Mm-hmm.” A glance around the V told Sif that he hadn’t yet shown up. Quickly she told her podmates about Thor almost crashing and how she suspected Loki had been the cause. She edited the story a little, however, leaving out her transformation into a rowan tree and Loki’s teasing.
Idun sighed. “That Loki. I hate to speak badly of anyone, but . . .”
“But people like Loki kind of deserve to be spoken badly of,” Skade finished, sounding like she was only half joking. “He should be punished for the mean things he does, but he always seems to get away with them. Wish someone could spy on him all the time. Then we’d have proof he’s making trouble, no matter what shape he takes.”
Idun turned toward Sif and Freya. “Hey, you guys are seers. Can’t you see what he’s up to when he’s not around? Spy on him, in other words?”
“Huh? How did you . . . ,” Sif started to ask. Then she shot Freya a look. Her podmate shrugged apologetically, giving Sif her answer. But really, Sif had never asked her not to tell anyone about her secret talent. For all she knew, Lofn had already told her podmates about the trouble Sif’s prophesying had caused her years ago, though no word of this had reached Sif’s ears.
While she was pondering this, Freya grinned at Idun and said, “No, seeing doesn’t work like that. So please don’t ask us to tell you your future. It’s not that easy.”
Skade waved her spoon and laughed. “I’m not sure I’d want to know mine anyway. Could be trouble!”
Sif had a feeling her friends were joking around a bit to ease her stress about the wheat. It was helping. A little.
“Uh-oh. Speaking of trouble,” she murmured. She lifted her chin to indicate one of the carved wooden friezes that hung near the girls’ table. These painted friezes covered all of the V’s walls and were peopled with heroic warriors who had died in battle. The warriors had been brought into the friezes by Odin’s Valkyries as painted figures that magically came to life toward the end of every meal. When they did, it was not a good idea to stick around.
As all four girls studied the nearby frieze, an armor-clad warrior reached out of it to grab a dish of lemon-flavored snow pudding from a Valkyrie rushing by with a tray of the desserts. With a wide grin on his face, the warrior took aim and then flung the snow pudding at a painting of heroes directly across the room. The girls’ table was directly in its path!
“Incoming!” yelled Skade. The four girls ducked just in time. The pudding sailed over their heads to hit the painting beyond them. Splat!
Calls of “Food fight!” “Run!” “Flee the V!” went up from AA students. They leaped up and headed for the exit doors.
Meanwhile, whoops and hollers rang out from the friezes as apples, turnips, potatoes, and other food flew back and forth across the room. Thunk! Sploosh! Most was directed at warriors occupying friezes on opposite walls, but occasionally the thrown food accidentally hit students, too!
“Time to go!” Freya yelled, though no one needed to be told that. Sif and the other girls were already scrambling from their seats. Phew! These end-of-meal food fights were a constant at the V. They were funny, but they could also get really messy!
The food fight had taken their minds off their real troubles for the moment. However, as soon as the four girls were outside, the branchway rolled under their feet causing them to wobble and stumble on the path. Overhead, Yggdrasil’s branches groaned and shook.
“Another giantquake!” yelped Sif.
As the girls tried to stay upright, Freya called over to her, “Have you tried to foresee what those giants are up to?” When Sif shook her head no, Freya added, “I tried, but I wasn’t able to. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this.” The rolling stopped abruptly, making her next words sound loud in the sudden quiet. “A Ragnarok kind of feeling.”
Sif and the others gasped in shock. “You think the frost giants might be trying to start Ragnarok . . . now?” asked Idun. They’d always been told that the end of the world was an event that would take place in the faraway future!
“Who knows how it’ll start, or when? We’d better . . . ,” said Freya. Then, something seemed to occur to her. “Rats! Just remembered I have a pet party scheduled in the dorm just minutes from now to showcase some of the jewelry I’ve been making especially for pets. I’ll cancel, though, so we can brainstorm what to do about all this.”
“Wait!” said Skade. “I heard a bunch of the girlgiants say they’re going to that party. I’ll come too. Maybe I can get them to accidentally spill any secret information they might have about a giant plot. Idun, you’re good at reading people. Can you come too?”
“Sure,” Idun agreed.
Sif nodded. “Good plan. While you’re doing that, I’ll go to the library. I can look up information about Ragnarok and find out what events are supposed to lead up to it. Hopefully not giants stealing wheat crops! And maybe I’ll research the art of seeing, too, in case anything helpful leaps out at me. The more we know the better, because . . .”
The four girls finished her sentence as one, exclaiming, “Knowledge is power!” They bumped elbows and laughed, briefly easing the tension. This was the school’s motto, spelled out in runes above the Heartwood Library door.
After their giggles died away, Sif split off from the other girls to go in a different direction, Sif to the library and the other three girlgoddesses to Vingolf Hall.
As Sif headed off down the snowy path alone, her mood was lighter t
han it might have been if she and her podmates hadn’t brainstormed a plan to find out more about the frost giant problem. And by working together, it seemed like they were on their way to becoming true friends. This wasn’t something she’d foreseen, just something she felt in her hopeful heart.
Unfortunately, her prophetic powers had failed to alert her to the beady-eyed bird that had been perched directly above her and her podmates on one of Yggdrasil’s branches. As the girls had been talking, that cunning magpie had taken in everything they’d said.
5
The Heartwood Library
AFTER SHE PARTED FROM HER three podmates, Sif made her way through a golden forest to the Heartwood Library (so named because it was located at the very center—the heart—of Yggdrasil’s tree trunk). Its existence had once been hidden, but Freya had uncovered it just after coming to Asgard Academy.
To enter Yggdrasil’s trunk, Sif used her fingertip to trace the words “Knowledge is power” on her palm. These were the very words she and the other girls had just giggled over, of course. After she finished palm-tracing, she stepped forward to stand nose-and-toes to tree bark. Instantly she found herself transported inside the trunk, all the way to the hollowed-out center of the enormous World Tree. It took powerful magic to do something like that. Yggdrasil magic!
Thump! Sif landed standing on a round wooden floor about two hundred feet across with a large hole at its center. The Heartwood Library was such an amazing place that she couldn’t resist taking a few moments to gaze around in wonder, as she always did.
Through the hole she could see many other floors with similar holes descending beneath the floor she’d landed on. Several transparent tubular slides with diameters ranging from one to four feet corkscrewed up to her current level through holes from somewhere far below. On the day Freya had discovered this place, she had corkscrewed her way through one of the slides all the way down to the second world ring!