Iduna's Apples (Valhalla Book 2)

by Jennifer Willis

  He gestured toward Maggie and Iduna. “We need your females. We must marry and produce offspring so we do not die out. The sacred apples from Iduna’s Grove were our only leverage.”

  Thrym shrugged and attempted a smile. “Without them, both our peoples wither away and die.”

  He reached for his bride’s hand. “Please, let us join our clans through this union, and we may feast together as one family.”

  After a loud and decidedly unfeminine sigh, Thor hurled his bouquet down on the stone floor and threw back the lace veil. “Are you kidding me?!”

  13

  Thrym’s jaw dropped. Other than a truncated gasp from Geirrod—and a choked giggle from Maggie—the room fell silent.

  Loki appeared in one of the doorways. Face drawn and pale, he wobbled on his feet as he stepped into the room. He glanced about at the giants, nodded at Maggie, then lifted his eyebrows curiously as he caught sight of Thor the bride wearing flowers on his head.

  “So, I have to ask . . . What precisely is going on in here?”

  “Loki!” Maggie rushed across the floor to Loki’s side. She grabbed his arm, and immediately found herself shouldering half his weight as he leaned on her for support. “You’re awake! You’re walking!”

  “And talking, it would seem,” Thor grumbled. He pointed an accusing finger at Loki. “I should have known you would be involved in something like this!”

  “Now, just hold on . . .” Freyr stepped forward to try to gain control of the situation, but in a flash Thor ripped away the long folds of fabric disguising the weapons hanging from his tool belt and stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Gripping a hammer in one hand and a plumber’s wrench in the other, Thor stalked toward the god of chaos.

  “You would turn against your own kin?!” Thor brandished his weapons high over Loki’s head. Ordinarily, Loki would have sought cover or at least taken several steps back. Instead, he leaned more heavily on Maggie.

  Maggie’s hand shot up within inches of Thor’s face. “You need to back off, buddy.”

  Maggie grabbed Loki’s chin and turned his face from one side to the other. “How? I mean, when . . . ?”

  Loki shrugged. “I woke up. I heard voices and followed them down here.”

  Recovering from the shock of learning his blushing bride was actually the god of thunder in a dress, Thrym stormed forward. He grabbed Thor by the elbow and spun him around.

  “What is the meaning of this?!” The king of the Frost Giants bellowed, his face flushing a deeper red with every syllable. “Where is Freya? Why have you so thoroughly breached our agreement?”

  Thor tried to shrug out of Thrym’s grasp, but the giant held him firmly in place.

  “You’re challenging me? You lured us into this dungeon under false pretenses!”

  Thiassen raised a hand. “This is actually not a dungeon.”

  Thrym nodded toward the tattered remnants of Thor’s wedding gown. “You lecture me on treachery and deceit? We promised nothing more than the apples.” He gestured toward the feast table with his free hand. “And we intended to honor our side of that bargain.”

  “Apples for brides,” Loki murmured groggily into Maggie’s shoulder.

  “Sounds like a really desperate reality TV show,” she replied.

  Thor twisted out of Thrym’s grasp and shook his weapons angrily at his sides. “There are only FOUR of you?! I thought we were storming in here for a fight, to save the world from being overrun by Frost Giants, and to rescue Maggie.”

  Thor nodded sheepishly in Maggie’s direction. “Hey, Maggie.”

  “Heya,” she responded with the same level of enthusiasm.

  A deep pout settled over Thor’s face. “I got all dressed up for nothing.”

  Iduna stepped forward. “And you’ve never looked lovelier.”

  “Oh, hey,” he gestured toward Iduna with the wrench. “You okay? Didn’t see you there.”

  Iduna crossed her arms over her chest. “No one ever does.”

  Geirrod wandered into the center of the room wearing a confused frown. “So, there is to be no wedding? You disguised yourself thus to gain access to our stronghold and attack us?”

  Thor frowned at Thrym. “That one’s kind of slow, eh?”

  Thrym’s face flushed red. “And now you insult us, after we opened our doors to you.” He locked eyes with Freyr. “And you, Freyr of the Vanir, I thought certainly I could trust you.”

  Freyr shrugged. “We made peace with the Æsir long ago. Their battles are our battles.”

  Thrym turned on his heel to face Loki, still leaning heavily on Maggie. “What shall we do with them?”

  Loki perked up. “Excuse me?”

  Thrym gestured toward Freyr and Thor. “These two here. They have broken faith with us and breached our fortress to do us harm.” He shot the gods a derisive look. “Yet we still outnumber them. What shall we do with them?”

  “Wait a minute,” Thor blustered. “Who outnumbers who here?”

  “I think that’s whom,” Freyr commented behind him.

  Thor turned back to him and snarled. “Shut up.”

  Freyr rolled his eyes and waved him forward.

  Thor stomped across the floor and stood face-to-chest with Thrym. “You think you outnumber us? There are only four of you!”

  “Four giants, plus our allies . . .” Thrym gestured toward Maggie, Iduna, and Loki, but a figure standing in the doorway behind Thor caught his eye.

  “Heimdall!” Maggie gasped in delight. She started to move toward him—dragging Loki with her—but Heimdall gestured for her to keep her place.

  “Maggie, are you all right?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I am now. At least, I think so.”

  Valthrudnir grinned at Heimdall. “How is your head?”

  “Peachy, thanks,” Heimdall shot back.

  Thor nodded at Heimdall, then beamed up at Thrym in satisfaction.

  “All right,” the giant acquiesced. “So there are three of you now.”

  Thor frowned darkly. “Three? There are six of us.” He waved toward Maggie, Iduna, and Loki.

  “Five-and-a-half, at best,” Loki murmured, resting his head on Maggie’s shoulder. “I’m barely conscious at the moment.”

  Thor’s exasperated gaze shifted from Loki to Maggie. She cocked her head to one side.

  “Don’t look at me,” she complained. “If it’s giants versus gods here, you’ll have to count me out.”

  Geirrod dipped his head toward her. “Maggie, what is this news? You are not recognized by your own kin?”

  She sighed heavily and looked away.

  Thor lifted his eyebrows at Iduna. The goddess shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “The Goddess of the Grove refuses to take sides.” Thrym scowled down at Thor in triumph. “Four of us against three of you.”

  “Five,” came a new voice from the corridor behind Heimdall.

  Freya and Saga walked swiftly past him to stand on either side of Thor. Thor’s face lit up, and he gripped his weapons with glee.

  Thrym’s face softened, his eyes almost moist. “Freya?”

  Heimdall stepped forward, grabbed Freya by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. “I told you to stay behind!”

  “Yeah, well.” Freya glanced sideways at Thrym and winked at him. The King of the Frost Giants looked at the floor and blushed.

  Freya removed Heimdall’s hand from her shoulder. “Doesn’t look like you’re doing so hot in here by yourselves.”

  Saga stepped up beside her. “And when have you known me to obey any order, direct or otherwise? Besides, we heard everything as we were coming down the corridors. We know what’s going on.”

  Taking a step back, Thrym planted his fists on his hips. “Well? Is this everyone now?”

  Heimdall and Freyr crossed their arms over their chests and stared at him. Thor growled and slid the hammer and wrench back into his tool belt.

  “Five gods against four giants,” Heimdall challenged
Thrym. “It’s not an unfair fight.”

  Thrym sighed. “We have no intention of fighting you, but we will take up arms to defend ourselves if necessary.”

  Saga took a step toward him. “So, what? You wanted some wives so you could build up your numbers again, and then what? You’ll just challenge us again later. And we’ll be right back here, fighting the same battle for Midgard. Why shouldn’t we just wipe you out, here and now, while we have the chance?”

  Thrym smiled sadly. “Because this is no longer a world for giants, or gods, to reign supreme. We do want to grow our numbers, but modestly. Establish a small population to prevent us from dying off completely.”

  Thor growled. “Do you believe this guy?”

  Heimdall paused, studying Thrym’s face. “Actually, I think I do.”

  Still leaning heavily on Maggie, Loki sighed—partially in relief, partially from sheer exhaustion. “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

  He nodded toward the feast table. “Do you think you could help me down there? I could use a few apples.”

  Maggie smiled. “Of course.”

  They started toward the table, but Thor held up a hand to stop them. “Hang on a minute. This isn’t settled.”

  “Actually, I think it is.” Saga stepped in front of Thor and looked up into her brother’s frustrated face. “They don’t want to fight. Yes, they’ve gotten out of their prison unexpectedly, and we’re going to have to figure out how to deal with that.” She paused. “And how to address their request for brides.”

  Thor felt the heat rising underneath the tight collar of his wedding gown. “Request?!” he practically bellowed. “There was no ‘request.’ Only treachery, thievery, deceit, subterfuge, and narrowly avoided mayhem. They would have imprisoned you in their stone dungeon, sister.”

  Thiassen moved forward and again lifted his hand. “Once more, I must object. This structure is in fact not a dungeon.”

  Saga took a step closer to Thor and rested a hand on his chest. Thor was tired. He’d put up a good fight against the same weakness and fatigue that was plaguing them all, but the single apple he’d consumed wasn’t enough.

  “Come with me,” Saga took him by the hand and pulled him toward the feast table. “I think we could all benefit from some of Iduna’s apples right about now.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Heimdall and Thrym. “Can we agree to forget past conflicts for a few moments as we replenish ourselves? We can sort out the rest when we’re all in better form.”

  Freya fell into step behind Saga, while Heimdall looked quickly to Thrym. The giant shrugged in acquiescence. “You are our guests. Please help yourselves.”

  Heimdall gestured toward Thrym to lead the way. The giant had taken no more than three steps when a terrible crash sounded overhead. Everyone in the room stopped and looked immediately up at the stone ceiling, where flickers of shadows passed over the high windows.

  “What on earth?” Freyr exclaimed, but his voice was drowned out by a series of loud booming noises coming from above. “It sounds like meteors are raining down from the sky!” he shouted.

  Thrym glanced quickly to his three men, all wearing the same anxious expression. Thrym turned and grabbed Heimdall’s arm. “Your reinforcements?”

  Heimdall shook his head.

  Thrym squeezed. “You are sure you were not followed?” he yelled above the din.

  Thor was immediately at Heimdall’s side. “Are you daft? You think we don’t know how to approach an enemy fortress without being tailed?”

  The deafening pounding continued. Powdered mortar and pebble-sized rocks rained down from above.

  Thor pulled Heimdall out of Thrym’s grasp and grabbed the giant by the elbow. “How secure is this place?”

  Dodging a few rocks as they fell and cracked open on the stone floor, Thiassen stormed toward Thor and yanked him away from Thrym. “You will not disrespect our king within his own stronghold!”

  Thor’s hands went again to his tool belt. Raising his hammer and wrench in the air, he glared at Thiassen. After a tense moment, Thiassen backed down. Lowering his weapons, Thor turned to Thrym. He nodded once in apology, and the giant nodded back in acceptance.

  Approaching from the side, Freya pulled additional weapons from Thor’s belt. She passed heavy sticks, rubber mallets, and a crowbar to her brethren.

  “You have any idea what’s going on up there?” She handed an adjustable wrench and a section of the curtain rod to Geirrod, but was careful not to actually touch him.

  Sand filtered down into his hair, and Geirrod shook his head. “This is not your doing?”

  Freya sighed darkly. “Definitely not.”

  Heimdall turned to Thrym and handed him his wrench. “Who else knows you are here?”

  “No one.”

  “You said only four of you came out of the ice?”

  Thrym nodded.

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  A huge blow to the roof above sent a fist-sized chunk of rock hurtling to the floor inches from where they were standing. Valthrudnir pressed both Thor and Thrym against the wall for safety. “All the others were dead,” he reported, looking Thor directly in the eye. “I pulled Thrym from the ice first and revived him. Then we released Geirrod and Thiassen.”

  Heimdall joined them against the wall. “Was there any evidence of other escapees?”

  “There was nothing but ice.” Valthrudnir shook rock dust out of his hair. “And the Shrine of the Cosmos, of course, which had also been partially uncovered.”

  Heimdall’s blood ran cold. He tried to remember the newspaper photo he’d seen in the hotel lounge when Thor and Saga had first arrived. The Shrine of the Cosmos—where Odin’s ancestors had gathered to revere the eternal force which had brought the entire Universe into being; the stone temple under which Odin’s father and grandfather had buried the gateway to the Køjer Underworld.

  Heimdall studied the dark flickers that shimmied past the windows above. “Køjer Devils,” he whispered.

  Thor shook his head. “No.”

  Heimdall closed his eyes. The pain in his head was worse than ever, and he felt fatigue tugging at him. “The archaeologists were digging around the shrine, after the glacier retreated and left it exposed.”

  Thrym’s eyes grew wide. He glanced nervously overhead, then looked back at Heimdall. “If these are truly Køjer Devils attacking . . .”

  The other giants hissed through their teeth and pressed their backs against the polished stone wall. Geirrod even shuddered.

  “The rocks.” Thor spun on his heel and looked at Freyr. “The boulder and the rocks that were hurled at us.”

  Freyr ran a hand over his pale face. “This is not good.”

  Thor stared upward as the pounding attack continued. There was no telling how much force the stronghold’s roof could sustain. The structure had been carved directly into the mountain, but the roof had been engineered by the giants. Thor wished he knew something—anything—about Frost Giant architecture.

  Heimdall took a deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall. “Listen to me, all of you!” His voice echoed through the hall. “It looks like we’ve got Køjer Devils on the roof.”

  He ignored the sand and debris falling down around him, but the cackling laughter filtering down from above made him shiver.

  “Our forefathers fought them,” Heimdall continued, trying to steady his voice. “But all we know about these creatures comes from our most ancient lore. And that’s spotty at best.”

  Thiassen dodged a rock the size of a watermelon. “Our forefathers—yours and mine—were nearly wiped out by the Køjer Devils,” he added.

  Heimdall nodded and stood his ground. “And they were driven back into their hole, and the gate was sealed.”

  “And now it has been unsealed,” the giant retorted.

  “Are you arguing for your own destruction?” Thor bellowed at Thiassen as more fists-sized rocks collapsed from the ceiling above. He gripped the weapons
in his hands more tightly. “For all we know, there are just a couple of those creatures up there, and they’re more nuisance than threat.”

  Thiassen shook his head. “One or a hundred—it matters not. Køjer Devils . . .” His hands balled into nervous fists. “And they are here for us.”

  A two-ton block of stone came free from the ceiling and crashed down in the center of the ring of wedding candles. Midnight sunlight flooded the chamber from above.

  With high-pitched shrieks of excitement, silhouettes of dark, contoured faces flocked to the gaping hole in the roof.

  Thor counted them. “Two dozen at least,” he sighed darkly.

  Wispy cackles and what were probably taunts in a creaky-sounding language of squeals and clicks rained down on them. And then, so did a shower of skull-size stones.

  “Take cover!” Thrym pushed Heimdall toward a nearby corridor. The others scrambled for the walls, pressing themselves up against the polished stone as they inched their way closer to the doorway.

  Thor stood his ground. Several stones glanced off his shoulders and landed squarely on the toes of his work boots as he stared up at the Køjer Devils. He looked at the table at the far side of the room.

  Holstering his hammer and plumber’s wrench, Thor called out to Thiassen. “The apples! Help me!”

  Thiassen and Thor quickly skirted the walls toward the feast table. Thor gritted his teeth against the blows he was taking to his back as the Devils pelted them with stones, and he saw spots of blood seeping through Thiassen’s tunic.

  Reaching the table, they stuffed as many apples as they could into their pockets and down their shirts. Thor emptied his bodice of stones to make room for more. They each grabbed a large serving bowl filled with fruit and hustled to the doorway to follow the others down the corridor.

  “Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . .” Sally typed with her smartphone’s virtual keyboard, IM’ing with her friend Opal back in Portland. “I’m so freaking bored! Drag me all this way to some arctic island just to sit around some stupid house that doesn’t even have TV.”

  “Practice your spells,” Opal replied. “You made new runes, right? Get to know them while you’re waiting.”