by Rick Riordan
Blitzen punched Hearthstone in the arm.
OUCH! Hearth signed. He stepped on the dwarf’s toes.
‘Or maybe not,’ Blitzen decided. ‘Still, this is very bad. Magnus, you’ve given an apple of immortality to a giant king.’
‘And … what does that mean, exactly?’
Blitz fiddled with his carnation. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never understood how those apples work. I imagine it will make Utgard-Loki stronger as well as younger. And, make no mistake, when Ragnarok comes he won’t be on our side.’
Hearthstone signed, Wish I’d known it was Utgard-Loki. I could have asked about magic.
‘Hmph,’ Blitz said. ‘You know plenty. Besides, you can’t trust a giant to give you straight answers. Right now, you two need sleep. Elves can’t stay awake very long without sunlight. And Magnus looks like he’s going to fall over.’
Blitz was right. I was starting to see double Blitzens and double Hearthstones, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with illusions.
We made camp in the library doorway, just like old times except with better supplies. Blitz pulled three down sleeping bags out of his duffel, along with a fresh change of clothes for me and some sandwiches, which I ate too fast to taste. Hearth collapsed in his bag and immediately began snoring.
‘Rest,’ Blitz told me. ‘I’ll keep watch. Tomorrow, we visit my kin.’
‘The dwarf world?’ My thoughts were getting fuzzy. ‘Your home?’
‘My home.’ Blitzen sounded uneasy. ‘Some of the research Hearth and I did today – it’s looking like we’ll need more information about the rope that bound Fenris. We can only get that in Nidavellir.’ He focused on the chain around my neck. ‘Can I see it? The sword?’
I pulled off the pendant and set the sword between us, its light making Blitz’s face glitter like a vein of copper in the dark.
‘Breathtaking,’ he murmured. ‘Bone steel … or something even more exotic.’
‘Bone steel … T.J. in Valhalla mentioned that.’
Blitz didn’t touch the blade, but he passed his hand over it reverently. ‘To make steel, iron is smelted with carbon. Most swordsmiths use coal, but you can also use bones – the bones of enemies, or monsters, or ancestors.’
‘Oh …’ I stared at the blade, wondering if my great-great-grandparents might be in there somewhere.
‘Forged correctly,’ Blitz said, ‘bone steel can cut down supernatural creatures, even giants and gods. Of course, you have to quench the blade in blood to harden it, preferably the blood of whatever type of creature you want the sword to be most lethal against.’
The sandwiches weren’t sitting so well in my stomach. ‘This blade was made like that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Blitz admitted. ‘The sword of Frey is Vanir work, which is a mystery to me. It might be closer to Hearth’s elf magic.’
My spirits sank. I’d had this idea that dwarves were good with weapon crafting. In the back of my mind, I’d been hoping Blitzen could tell me something about the blade’s secrets.
I glanced at Hearth, still snoring peacefully. ‘You said Hearth knew a lot of magic. I’m not criticizing. I’ve just never seen him cast any … well, except maybe opening one door. What else can he do?’
Blitz set his hand protectively next to Hearth’s feet. ‘Magic drains him. He’s careful about using it. Also his family …’
He took a deep breath. ‘Modern elves don’t approve of magic. His parents shamed Hearthstone pretty badly. It still makes him self-conscious about casting magic in front of others. Hearthstone wasn’t the son his parents wanted, between the magic and the, you know …’ Blitz tapped his own earlobes.
I felt like saying something rude about Hearthstone’s parents in sign language. ‘It’s not his fault he’s deaf.’
‘Elves.’ Blitz shrugged. ‘They have a low tolerance for anything that isn’t perfect – music, art, appearances. Their own children.’
I wanted to protest how messed up that was. Then I thought about humans, and I decided we weren’t much better.
‘Get some sleep, kid,’ Blitz urged. ‘Big day tomorrow. To keep Fenris Wolf bound, we’re going to need help from a certain dwarf … and that help isn’t going to come cheap. We’ll need you at full strength when we jump to Nidavellir.’
‘Jump …’ I said. ‘What do you mean jump?’
He gave me a worried look, as if I might be getting another funeral very soon. ‘In the morning, you’re going to try climbing the World Tree.’
THIRTY-SIX
Duck!
Call me crazy.
I was expecting the World Tree to be a tree. Not a row of bronze ducks.
‘Behold!’ Blitzen said. ‘The nexus of the universe!’
Hearthstone knelt reverently.
I glanced at Sam, who had joined us after a daring escape from first-period physics. She wasn’t laughing.
‘So …’ I said, ‘I’m just going to point out that this is the Make Way for Ducklings statue.’
‘Do you think it’s a coincidence?’ Blitzen demanded. ‘Nine Worlds? Nine ducks? The symbolism screams portal! This spot is the crux of creation, the centre of the tree, the easiest place to jump from one duck – I mean one world – to another.’
‘If you say so.’ I’d passed these bronze ducks a thousand times. I’d never considered them much of a nexus. I hadn’t read the children’s book they were based on, but I gathered it was about a mama duck and her babies crossing a street in Boston, so they put a sculpture of it in the Public Garden.
In the summer, little kids would sit on Mrs Mallard and get their pictures taken. At Christmas, the ducks got little Santa hats. At the moment they were naked and alone, buried up to their necks in fresh snowfall.
Hearthstone passed his hands over the statues like he was testing a stovetop for heat.
He glanced at Blitz and shook his head.
‘As I feared,’ Blitz said. ‘Hearth and I have been travelling too much. We won’t be able to activate the ducks. Magnus, we’ll need you.’
I waited for an explanation, but Blitz just studied the sculptures. He was testing out a new hat this morning – a pith helmet with dark netting that draped to his shoulders. According to Blitz, the net fabric was his own design. It blocked ninety-eight per cent of the sunlight, allowing us to see his face while not covering up his fashionable outfit. It made him look like a beekeeper in mourning.
‘Okay, I’ll bite,’ I said. ‘How do I activate ducks?’
Sam scanned our surroundings. She didn’t look like she’d slept much. Her eyes were puffy. Her hands were raw and blistered from our fishing expedition. She’d changed into a black wool trench coat, but otherwise she was dressed the same as yesterday: green hijab, axe, shield, jeans, winter boots – all the accoutrements of a fashionable ex-Valkyrie.
‘However you do it,’ she said, ‘do it quickly. I don’t like how close we are to the gates of Valhalla.’
‘But I don’t know how,’ I protested. ‘Don’t you guys go world-jumping all the time?’
Hearth signed, Too much.
‘Kid,’ Blitz said, ‘the more frequently you travel between the worlds, the harder it gets. It’s kind of like overheating an engine. At some point, you have to stop and let the engine cool down. Besides, jumping randomly from one world to another is one thing. Travelling on a quest – that’s different. We can’t be sure where exactly we need to go.’
I turned to Sam. ‘What about you?’
‘When I was a Valkyrie, it would’ve been no problem. But now?’ She shook her head. ‘You’re a child of Frey. Your father is the god of growth and fertility. You should be able to coax Yggdrasil’s branches close enough to let us jump on. Besides, it’s your quest. You have the best chance of navigating. Just use the sculpture as a point of focus. Find us the quickest path.’
She would’ve had better luck explaining calculus to me.
I felt stupid, but I knelt next to the sculpture. I touched the ducklin
g at the end of the line. Cold crept up my arm. I sensed ice, fog and darkness – somewhere harsh and unwelcoming.
‘This,’ I decided, ‘is the quickest way to Niflheim.’
‘Excellent,’ Blitz said. ‘Let’s not go there.’
I was just reaching for the next duck when someone yelled, ‘MAGNUS CHASE!’
Two hundred yards away, on the opposite side of Charles Street, Captain Gunilla stood flanked by two other Valkyries. Behind them was a line of einherjar. I couldn’t make out their expressions, but the grey looming mass of X the half-troll was unmistakable. Gunilla had drafted my own hallmates to fight against me.
My fingers twitched with anger. I wanted to get a meat hook and go fishing with Gunilla as bait. I reached for my pendant.
‘Magnus, no,’ Sam said. ‘Concentrate on the ducks. We have to change worlds now.’
On either side of Gunilla, the Valkyries slung glowing spears from their backs. They yelled at the einherjar to ready their weapons. Gunilla pulled two of her hammers and threw them in our direction.
Sam deflected one with her shield. She knocked the other aside with her axe, spinning the hammer into the nearest willow tree, where it embedded itself up to the handle. Across the street, all three Valkyries rose into the air.
‘I can’t fight them all,’ Sam warned. ‘It’s leave now or be captured.’
My anger turned to panic. I looked at the row of bronze ducks, but my concentration was shattered. ‘I – I need more time.’
‘We don’t have time!’ Sam deflected another hammer. The force of the blow cracked her shield down the middle.
‘Hearth.’ Blitzen nudged the elf’s arm. ‘Now would be good.’
A frown tugged at the corners of Hearthstone’s mouth. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a runestone. He cupped it in his hands and muttered to it silently, as if speaking to a captured bird. He threw the stone into the air.
It exploded above us, creating a rune of burning golden light:
Between Gunilla’s hunting party and us, distance seemed to elongate. The Valkyries flew towards us at top speed; my einherjar comrades drew their weapons and charged – but they made no progress.
It reminded me of those cheap 1970s cartoons where a character runs but the scenery behind him just keeps repeating itself. Charles Street spiralled around our pursuers like a giant hamster wheel. For the first time, I got what Sam had told me about runes being able to change reality.
‘Raidho,’ Blitzen said appreciatively. ‘It stands for the wheel, the journey. Hearthstone has bought you some time.’
Only seconds, Hearth signed. Hurry.
He promptly collapsed into Sam’s arms.
I ran my hands quickly across the bronze ducks. At the fourth one, I stopped. I felt warmth, safety … a sense of rightness.
‘This one,’ I said.
‘Well, open it!’ Blitzen shouted.
I rose to my feet. Not sure what I was doing, I pulled my pendant from its chain. The Sword of Summer appeared in my hands. Its blade purred like a demented cat. I tapped it against the bronze duck and sliced upward.
The air parted like a curtain. Stretching in front of me, instead of a sidewalk, was an expanse of tree branches. The nearest one, as wide as Beacon Street, ran directly under us, maybe three feet down, suspended over a grey void. Unfortunately, the cut I’d made in the fabric of Midgard was already closing.
‘Hurry!’ I said. ‘Jump!’
Blitzen didn’t hesitate. He leaped through the rift.
Over on Charles Street, Gunilla screamed in outrage. She and her Valkyries were still flying full-tilt on their cartoon hamster wheel, the einherjar stumbling along behind them.
‘You are doomed, Magnus Chase!’ Gunilla shouted. ‘We will pursue you to the ends of –’
With a loud POP, Hearth’s spell broke. The einherjar fell face first in the street. The three Valkyries shot over our heads. Judging from the sound of breaking glass, they must have hit a building over on Arlington Street.
I didn’t wait for my old hallmates to recover their senses.
I grabbed Hearth’s left arm while Sam took his right. Together, we leaped into the World Tree.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I Am Trash-Talked by a Squirrel
I always liked climbing trees.
My mom had been pretty understanding about that. She’d only get nervous if I got above twenty feet. Then a little tension crept into her voice. ‘Pumpkin, that branch may not hold you. Could you come down a little?’
On the World Tree, every branch would hold me. The biggest ones were wider than Interstate 93. The smallest were as large as your average redwood. As for Yggdrasil’s trunk, it was so immense it just didn’t compute. Each crevice in its surface seemed to lead to a different world, as if someone had wrapped tree bark around a column of television monitors glowing with a million different movies.
The wind roared, ripping at my new denim jacket. Beyond the tree’s canopy I saw nothing but a hazy white glow. Below was no ground – just more branches crisscrossing the void. The tree had to be rooted somewhere, but I felt woozy and unbalanced – as if Yggdrasil and everything it contained, including my world, was free-floating in primordial mist – the Ginnungagap.
If I fell here, in the best-case scenario I’d hit another branch and break my neck. Worst-case scenario, I’d keep falling forever into the Great White Nothingness.
I must’ve been leaning forward, because Blitzen grabbed my arm. ‘Careful, kid. First time in the tree will make you dizzy.’
‘Yeah, I noticed.’
Hearthstone still sagged between Sam and me. He tried to find his footing, but his ankles kept bending in odd directions.
Sam stumbled. Her broken shield slipped from her grip and somersaulted into the abyss.
She crouched, a look of barely controlled panic in her eyes. ‘I liked Yggdrasil a lot better when I could fly.’
‘What about Gunilla and the others?’ I asked. ‘Will they be able to follow us?’
‘Not easily,’ Sam said. ‘They can open another portal, but it won’t necessarily lead to the same branch of the tree. Still, we should keep moving. Being on Yggdrasil is not good for your sanity.’
Hearthstone managed to stand on his own. He signed, I’m okay. Let’s go. Though his hands were so shaky it looked more like: You are a rabbit tunnel.
We moved further along the branch.
The Sword of Summer hummed in my hand, tugging me along like it knew where we were going. I hoped it did, anyway.
Hostile winds buffeted us from side to side. Branches swayed, throwing deep pools of shadow and brilliant patches of light across our path. A leaf the size of a canoe fluttered by.
‘Stay focused,’ Blitzen told me. ‘That feeling you had when you opened the portal? Look for it again. Find us an exit.’
After walking about a quarter of a mile, we found a smaller branch crossing directly under ours. My sword hummed louder, tugging to the right.
I looked at my friends. ‘I think we need to take this exit.’
Changing branches might sound easy, but it involved sliding down ten feet from one curved surface to another, with the wind howling and the branches swaying apart. Amazingly, we managed it without anyone getting crushed or falling into oblivion.
Navigating the narrower branch was worse. It bobbed more violently under our feet. At one point I got flattened by a leaf – like a green tarp dropping on top of me out of nowhere. At another point I looked down and realized I was standing over a crack in the bark. Half a mile down, inside the branch, I could see a snow-capped mountain range, as if I were standing in a glass-bottom aeroplane.
We picked our way through a maze of lichen patches that looked like hills of burned marshmallows. I made the mistake of touching one. My hand sunk up to my wrist and I almost couldn’t pull it free.
Finally the lichen dispersed into smaller clumps like burned marshmallow sofas. We followed our branch until it split into half a dozen unclimb
able twigs. The Sword of Summer seemed to go to sleep in my hand.
‘Well?’ Sam asked.
I peered over the side. About thirty feet below us, a larger branch swayed. In the middle of that branch, a hot-tub-size knothole glowed with soft warm light.
‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘That’s our way out.’
Blitzen scowled. ‘You sure? Nidavellir isn’t warm and glowy.’
‘I’m just telling you – the sword seems to think that’s our destination.’
Sam whistled silently. ‘Quite a jump. If we miss the hole …’
Hearthstone spelled out: S-P-L-A-T.
A gust of wind hit us, and Hearth stumbled. Before I could catch him, he fell backwards into a clump of lichen. His legs were promptly swallowed in the marshmallow gunk.
‘Hearth!’ Blitzen scrambled to his side. He pulled at Hearth’s arms, but the mucky lichen held on to his legs like a needy toddler.
‘We can cut him out,’ said Sam. ‘Your sword, my axe. It’ll take time. We’ll have to be careful of his legs. But it could be worse.’
Naturally, things got worse. From somewhere above us came an explosive YARK!
Blitzen crouched under his pith helmet. ‘Ratatosk! That damnable squirrel always appears at the worst time. Hurry with those blades!’
Sam cut into the lichen with her axe, but her blade stuck. ‘This is like cutting through melting tyres! It’s not going to be quick.’
GO! Hearth signed. Leave me.
‘Not an option,’ I said.
YAAAAARRRRK! The sound was much louder this time. A dozen branches above us, a large shadow passed across the leaves.
I hefted my sword. ‘We’ll fight the squirrel. We can do that, right?’
Sam looked at me like I was mad. ‘Ratatosk is invulnerable. There is no fighting him. Our options are running, hiding or dying.’
‘We can’t run,’ I said. ‘And I’ve already died twice this week.’
‘So we hide.’ Sam unwrapped her hijab. ‘At least, Hearth and I do. I can cover two people, no more. You and Blitz run – find the dwarves. We’ll meet up with you later.’