Freya and the Magic Jewel

by Joan Holub

  “What’s going on?” Freya asked, ducking the spray.

  “He’s getting an insight,” Gullveig murmured in excitement. “Sort of an intelligent vision based on his collective knowledge and observation.”

  Seconds later Mimir stopped spinning as suddenly as he’d started. He stared hard at Freya. “You keep fiddling with that broken gold chain you wear. You lost something important, didn’t you? Tell me where you hope to find it, and I’ll help you get there.”

  Surprised, Freya blurted, “Darkalfheim.”

  Mimir raised his eyebrows and gave her the expected warning. “The dwarfs there are tricksters, and their tunnels are dangerous.”

  “But they took my jewel,” explained Freya. “I have to get it back.”

  “They took Brising?” Gullveig echoed. With a disgusted huff, she went back to her wand making again, muttering about jewel thieves.

  “Very well, then,” Mimir told Freya, directing his eyes downward. “One of these water slides will take you where you need to go. It ends in the Spring of Mimir, on the second world ring between Jotunheim and Darkalfheim.”

  As his words died away, Gullveig’s eyes lit with concern. “No, I don’t think so. It’s too dangerous. She’s safer here with us.” Jumping up, she waved her wand back and forth in a negative gesture to emphasize her words.

  Unfortunately, this caused the magic in the wand to zap out toward Freya and give her a push. She lost her footing and fell backward onto one of the slides. Instantly she was whooshed downward through it!

  “Wait! I need to tell you something,” Freya called. “The war is overrr!” However, she knew she had already fallen too far away for them to hear that last bit.

  Everything became a blur as she swooshed down, down, down. Along the way she caught glimpses of strange curiosities crammed between books shelved on the curved walls of the lower library. A sculpture of a grotesque monster. An endlessly spinning top. A carved wooden army of fanciful animals. The title of two extra-large, fancy books caught her eye: The Poetic Edda and The Prose Edda. The latter had the words BY SNORRI STURLUSON lettered below its title. Her sleepy Norse History teacher had written it!

  Abruptly the slide came to an end, and Freya shot out of it. Splash! She landed sitting in a bubbling pool that nourished one of Yggdrasil’s three great roots. Grabbing a clump of wildflowers, she pulled herself out of the Spring of Mimir. Clomp! Clomp! Dripping wet, she’d expected to freeze half to death in the snow. However, she became immediately dry once her red-and-white-plaid snow boots touched the bank. The waters of the spring must be enchanted!

  In the distance she spied mountains. Were they in Jotunheim or Darkalfheim? She looked the other way and saw caves. Someone—the dwarfs, she guessed—had carved the words DARKALFHEIM: KEEP OUT! across the side of a craggy black peak.

  Well, that answered her question about which way to go. Ignoring the warning, she headed straight for the caves, following a stream.

  A salmon leaped from the water from time to time, keeping pace with her as she walked. It was almost as if it was keeping an eye on her. When she veered away from the stream, she didn’t notice the salmon changing form and moving onto land as a boygod. One with dark hair and dark-blue eyes. Unaware that she was being followed, she continued on, passing a glacier, ducking under an overhanging cliff, and then plunging down into a large cave.

  As she felt her way through the chilly cave’s dark tunnels, she moved toward the sound of clanking, which grew louder as she got closer to her goal. Eventually she saw orange and yellow sparks flying, and came upon the arched entryway to a blacksmith shop. A sign above the entry read:

  Ivaldi’s Sons:

  Superfine Blacksmithing

  (Way Better Than the Other Guys!)

  What other guys? she wondered as she stepped into the forge. Darkalfheim dwarfs were all known to be skilled metalworkers. Different groups of them must compete for work. Which group had Brising, though?

  Immediately she spotted four dwarfs at work. Clink! Clank! went their hammers, flattening gold. There were portraits of them displayed on a far wall, with their names written in gold leaf: Alfrigg, Berling, Dvalin, Grerr.

  When they moved slightly apart, she beheld what they were working on. Without meaning to, she gasped. For it was the most beautiful necklace she’d ever seen! Golden and hammered, it had fancy designs and was decorated with small, winking rubies and diamonds. But what caught her eye was the single large jewel that dangled at its center. It was shaped like a teardrop. It was walnut size and stunningly beautiful. It was Brising! She’d come to the right place!

  At her gasp the dwarfs jumped around to gaze at her in surprise. Now one of them bellowed, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Based on the portraits, this was Berling.

  Freya stepped forward. “Can I buy that necklace you’re making?” she asked, even though she hadn’t brought any money.

  “Negative,” grumped Alfrigg. “Go away.”

  “But you stole—” Freya stopped herself just in time. She doubted they’d simply return Brising if she told them it was hers. Instead their price might go up, since they’d guess how badly she wanted her jewel back. And if she got too pushy, they might run away with it. Brising could be lost to her forever!

  She circled closer, keeping her eye on the necklace. Should she try to grab it and run? Were dwarfs fast runners? She didn’t know. But everyone knew they loved gold.

  “I’ll trade you my gold chain,” Freya offered.

  “A GOLD CANE?” shouted Berling, looking around. “WHERE IS IT? I DON’T SEE IT!” Apparently, he had trouble hearing.

  “No, a chain!” She tugged her broken chain from the tortoiseshell clasps that fastened it in place. “It’s my best one. You’re welcome to have it if you’ll give me the necklace, or at least that big jewel there in its middle.” This delicate chain was the last reminder she had of Brising. If she lost both it and her jewel to these dwarfs, it would be terribly sad. But it was a chance she had to take.

  “The jewel is worth far more than that chain. Besides, it’s not for sale. Why do you want it so much, anyway?” Dvalin asked suspiciously.

  “Because it’s pretty?” she said, trying to sound casual. But she had already acted too anxious.

  Alfrigg frowned. “We have lots of other pretty jewels lying around the forge,” he snapped. “We’ll trade you for one of those!”

  Grerr narrowed his eyes. “There must be something special about this teardrop jewel, since she wants it so badly.” He sounded as suspicious as Dvalin had.

  Berling had been cupping his ears in an effort to hear better. “MAYBE IT’S MAGIC!” he yelled.

  All four dwarfs began coaxing the jewel to do magic.

  “Come on, jewely-wuly.”

  “Show us some magicky-wagicky.”

  Dvalin pulled off his leather glove to cup the jewel in his bare palm. To Freya’s surprise, Brising did not change color in reaction to his mood. It remained as clear as a diamond. Oh no! Was it broken?

  “We’ll polish you to a high shine as a reward,” Grerr promised the jewel.

  When still nothing happened, Berling yelled at it. “DO SOMETHING, YOU DUMB OL’ JEWEL!” Insults did no good either.

  “That sparkly rock’s a dud,” grouched Alfrigg.

  Has my jewel’s magic been broken by its fall from the bridge? Freya worried. No matter, she still wanted to rescue it. It wasn’t just a piece of rock to her. It was a friend! And like Ratatosk’s squirrelly message acorn had said the other day, friends were more important than anything.

  “HEY! DID YOU MAKE THAT EAR WARMER?” Berling asked out of nowhere. He was pointing at the lopsided, pointy-ended pouch Ms. Frigg had knitted.

  “You mean this?” Freya asked, lifting the red knit pouch from its bead necklace in surprise. He nodded with such excitement that she handed it to him for a closer look. Berling promptly set the pointy pouch over his ear, saying, “IT’S A PERFECT FIT!”

  “Let me see it,” said Dvalin, snatching
the “ear warmer” Berling now wore. One by one the dwarfs began trying it on, each looking thrilled with it.

  “Could you knit us ear warmers like this?” Grerr asked in excitement. “All in different colors?”

  “Ooh! Yeah! Like the ones our mommy knitted for us when we were little dwarfies, remember?” enthused a suddenly ungrouchy Alfrigg.

  “Too bad they wore out,” said Dvalin.

  “And we don’t know how to knit more,” added Grerr. Reluctantly he tossed the pouch back to her, and she replaced it on its beaded chain.

  “Sure, I could get you more ear warmers like this, no problem,” Freya offered quickly. “Let’s make a deal. Two ears times four dwarfs equals eight. So eight knitted warmers in trade for the necklace?” She crossed her fingers. This seemed her only hope of rescuing Brising!

  Although she didn’t have a clue how to knit something quite as, er, quirky as these pointy ear-warmer pouches herself, she knew someone who did. Ms. Frigg! She had said she especially enjoyed knitting replacements for things that others had lost. And the ear warmers knitted by the dwarfs’ mommy were things they’d lost to childhood, right? Freya felt sure that once she explained, Ms. Frigg would be touched and agree to knit replacements.

  The dwarfs huddled up to discuss the matter, then broke apart again. “Deal!” Alfrigg declared. From the sly way he and the others were looking at one another, they appeared to think the bargain was in their favor. And maybe it was. What use was one more necklace to them, no matter how pretty? It wouldn’t keep their ears warm!

  Delighted, Freya reached for the necklace. However, Alfrigg snatched it away. For a moment she had touched her jewel, though, and it had flashed with color. So its magic wasn’t entirely broken after all. Still, it must be damaged somehow, since it hadn’t worked for the dwarfs earlier. She hoped she’d be able to repair it.

  “EAR WARMERS FIRST,” Berling insisted.

  “Then you’ll get the necklace,” Dvalin informed her.

  Nooo! She couldn’t leave without Brising! Darkalfheim dwarfs were known to break deals if a better one came along. She wouldn’t back out on this deal, but what if they did before she could return?

  “Can’t I take the necklace now? I’ll bring the ear warmers soon. Promise,” she told them.

  The dwarfs crossed their arms and shook their heads. “Nope,” Alfrigg said, grumpy again. “That’s not how we do business.”

  No sooner had he said this than, seemingly out of nowhere, a golden-bristled boar broke into the forge. It began racing around, knocking over tools and crashing into things.

  “Drat! Those rotten blacksmiths Brokk and Sindri are practicing boar making again. This one’s crazier than the last boaring prototype they made!” Alfrigg shouted.

  “Get out!”

  “Back off, boar!”

  Waving their arms, the four dwarfs chased the boar, trying to shoo it out of their workshop without getting stuck by its sharp tusks.

  Suddenly the boar wheeled about to chase them. “Yikes!” yelled Grerr. The dwarfs made an abrupt U-turn and took off running the other way, deeper into the caves. Alfrigg wasn’t fast enough, though. Oomph! The boar head-butted him in the rear.

  “Yeow!” Clink! Alfrigg dropped the necklace to the floor but kept running.

  As the boar herded the dwarfs away, Freya grabbed the necklace and fled the cave. “Don’t worry! I’ll bring the ear warmers. You can trust me. I’m just not sure I can trust you!” she called over her shoulder.

  The dwarfs were so busy escaping the boar that they didn’t even reply!

  14

  Trickery

  FREYA FOUND HER WAY OUT of the Darkalfheim tunnels with no trouble. Outside the cave’s entrance the rocky path before her sloped downhill. She paused to catch her breath, glad to note that the dwarfs had not yet come after her.

  She gazed lovingly at the jewel in the center of the beautiful necklace she held. Success! In a single day she’d gotten Brising back, plus made contact with Gullveig. All that was left to do to complete her secret plan was talk Frey into going home to Vanaheim!

  As she held her jewel, it flashed shades of blue and purple. It was happy! “Me too. I promise I’ll never lose you again,” she whispered to Brising, gently rubbing the jewel with her fingertip. To her delight, it warmed, but instead of showing her a vision, it spoke a future-telling:

  “Promise made by words you’ve spoken

  Within minutes will be broken.”

  Hmm. “I think your future-telling skills are still a little off, Brising. I’ll keep my promise to the dwarfs. They’ll get those ear warmers even if I have to knit them myself!” But wait. Had her jewel meant her other promise? The one she’d made to never lose it again? “Don’t worry,” she assured it just in case. “See? I’m putting you on now. You’re safe with me.”

  As Freya lifted the dwarf-made necklace to clasp it around her throat, she felt a sharp pinch on her neck. A flea had bitten her. “Ow!” Her hands flew out, reaching toward the bite . . . and she dropped Brising! Nooo! Not again!

  The necklace tumbled down the slope, coming to rest on a large rock. Quickly she ran and bent to retrieve it. However, the flea was faster. It hopped from her to the necklace, where it transformed into . . . Loki?

  Grinning at her like this was all some big joke, he grabbed the necklace and sailed off, now in the form of a big gray bird.

  Huh? That annoying boygod could shape-shift? Somehow he’d found her here, decided to turn himself into a flea to bug her into dropping the Brising necklace, and then transformed again so he could steal it. Well, he wasn’t going to get away with this.

  “You! Flea-bird boy!” she shouted after him, shaking her fist in the air. “Give me back my necklace! This is not funny! I mean it!”

  But Loki just kept flying, with the necklace in his beak. Well, little did he know that she had the means to fly as well. Quickly Freya pulled her cat’s-eye marble from its pouch and tossed it high.

  Plink! The marble landed on the snowy ground and instantly transformed into her tabby cats and cart. Meow! Meow!

  In minutes she was zooming through the air in the cart, her long, glittering hair fanning out behind her. Since she wasn’t all that confident in her flying skills yet, she stayed low, traveling only a few dozen feet above the snowy ground.

  When she reached the first ring and passed over Heimdall at his post on the Bifrost Bridge, she waved to him. He looked surprised to see her flying. However, recognizing her, he beckoned her onward. Loki was so far ahead by now that she’d almost lost sight of him. Judging from his flight path, she guessed he was planning to land at Valaskjalf, where she’d first met Odin and Ms. Frigg. Weird choice! Still, she would follow him there, even if it would take her higher than she’d ever flown. She had to rescue Brising . . . again!

  Uh-oh! As she neared the platform in Yggdrasil’s topmost branches, she saw she’d miscalculated. She was coming in too fast. It was going to take all her limited skill not to crash-land!

  “Whoa, kitty, kitty!” she shouted desperately. Her cats banked against the wind to help slow them. Would it be enough? Thump! They landed. Claws out, the cats skidded to a halt at the base of the steps up to the two thrones. Ms. Frigg (who was knitting twinkly stars and releasing them into the heavens) and Odin looked at her in surprise. Loki, too, for he had already transformed to his boygod self and was speaking to Odin—who was holding Brising!

  Meow! Meow!

  “Good job, silfrkatter,” Freya said, leaping from her cart. She gave her cats pets and kisses. Then she said the magic word: “Catnap!” Plink! She snatched the cat’s-eye marble from the air, then plunked it back into its pouch.

  Odin had been examining her necklace, but now he leaned to discuss it with Ms. Frigg. Her needles kept clicking as she replied in low-voiced words Freya couldn’t hear.

  What was going on here? Had Loki claimed the necklace was his, and come to show it off or give it to them as a gift?

  “That necklace is mine!
” Freya announced in a strong, determined voice. “Loki took it from me.”

  Odin startled her by saying, “Yes, I know. I asked him to bring it here.”

  “But why?” she asked, totally puzzled now. Loki snickered.

  Odin straightened with a frown and nodded sternly to the boygod. Seeming to understand that this was an instruction to depart, Loki shape-shifted into a bird again, sent her a cocky, beaky grin, and then flew away. Good riddance, in her opinion! She eyed her necklace, which Odin was now idly tossing a few inches in the air, then catching in his palm over and over again.

  “The way you acted when I asked about your magic yesterday seemed suspicious,” Odin announced once Loki was gone. “And with the history of mistrust between Asgard and Vanaheim, I thought I’d better find out if you were up to something. So when I discovered you were on your way to Darkalfheim, I asked Loki to follow you and see what he could learn.”

  “But . . .” Freya shifted from one foot to the other, wanting to ask how he’d discovered where she’d gone. It didn’t really matter, she supposed. He could’ve used his amazing telescope. Or his awesome single-eye sight. Or even his ravens. Odin had his ways, and he probably wouldn’t reveal them to her even if she dared to ask.

  “Well? EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” Odin shouted.

  His loud command jolted her into instantly blurting out the truth. “When I was up here before, you said you and Ms. Frigg brought me to the academy because of my magic. I was scared to tell you that I don’t have any of my own. Brising—the jewel in the center of that necklace—is the one with the magic.” Uh-oh! What had she just done? She clapped her hand over her mouth, wishing she could call back the words.

  “I’d guessed as much,” Odin said, surprising her. “That’s why I had Loki bring the jewel to me. Before you arrived just now, I tried with all my might to make its magic work. As did Loki and Frigg.” He paused for a suspenseful moment and then added, “Nothing happened.”

  “Huh?” Freya glanced at Ms. Frigg.