The Day the World Went Loki

by Robert J. Harris

  “Why did she take the spellbook with her?” Greg complained.

  “That was Mr Key’s idea,” Mum told them as she stirred the laundry with a long wooden spoon. “He insisted. To tell you the truth, I think he’s some kind of sorcerer.”

  “Oh great!” Greg exclaimed.

  “Perhaps he cast the spell that stopped time,” Lewis said to Greg.

  “What was that, son?” Mum asked.

  “Time has stopped, Mum,” Lewis explained. “This day is never going to end.”

  “Maybe I’ll finally get through all my housework for a change then,” Mum said breezily, turning her attention back to the washing.

  “Come on, we’d better get a move on,” Greg said, heading for the front door.

  “Why don’t you take a snack with you?” Mum chimed after them.

  “Sorry, Mum, we’ll pass on that!” Greg called back.

  An idea suddenly dawned on Lewis. “Wait a minute! His initials: L. O. Key… He must be—”

  Before he could complete the thought, Greg opened the door and they came face to face with a Valkyrie.

  Greg immediately slammed the door in her face and clicked the lock in place. He said something he wouldn’t have wanted Mum to overhear, even in her present condition.

  “The back door!” they said together, and made a bolt for it.

  But Mum had already come out of the kitchen to answer a pounding at the back door. She opened it to Shona Gilhooley, who brushed right past her.

  At the sight of the two boys, the chief Valkyrie threw her head back and laughed. It seemed to be a habit. Two more Valkyries appeared behind her.

  “Did you truly think we wouldn’t be waiting for you?” she mocked.

  “Frankly, we’ve been giving you as little thought as possible,” Greg told her. “You’re getting to be a real pain.”

  The Valkyrie leaned forward menacingly. “Are you going to surrender,” she asked, “or are you going to offer me some sport first?”

  Greg looked past her and deliberately widened his eyes in fake astonishment. “No, Mum, don’t do it!” he screamed in a horrified voice.

  All three Valkyries looked behind them. By the time it dawned on them that it was a trick, the boys were already halfway up the back stairway.

  “I can’t believe they fell for that!” said Lewis.

  “Anybody who dresses the way they do can’t be too bright,” Greg said. “But we still have to get out of here.”

  “My room,” Lewis said. “The magic mirror.”

  They tumbled into the room, slamming the door shut after them.

  Greg stood in front of the mirror and said, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, are you any use at all?”

  The Face blinked into view and raised an eyebrow. “That’s hardly very tactful,” it complained. “Besides, you should know the drill by now.”

  “Lindsay!” Lewis gasped.

  “Hullo!” the mirror responded brightly.

  “Valkyries chasing us,” Lewis told it. “Have to escape.”

  “Use the rug,” the Face suggested.

  Greg looked down at the rug they were standing on. “Does it fly?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, you simpleton. When they come in, you pull it out from under them. By the sound of things, you’d better get in position right now.”

  The boys moved to the far end of Aunt Vivien’s ghastly rug and took a tight grip. The door burst open and Shona rushed in with one of her sisters.

  “Now!” Greg cried.

  They tugged with all their might, yanking the rug out from under the warrior women’s feet. The Valkyries went down in a tangle of chainmail and swords.

  Greg and Lewis jumped over them and bounded out into the hallway.

  “Hey, babe,” they heard the mirror say, “you are definitely the fairest of them all. And believe me, I should know.”

  An angry battle cry rang out, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

  “He had that coming,” Greg muttered.

  At the top of the stair they saw more Valkyries heading up towards them. Greg immediately grabbed the hatstand and held it like a battering ram.

  “Give me a hand!” he ordered Lewis.

  Lewis took hold and as the first of the Valkyries reached the top step the brothers charged. They caught her full in the midriff with the end of the hatstand and sent her cannoning backwards into her sisters. All three tumbled back down the stairs while Greg pitched the hatstand aside.

  “Follow me!” he urged, seating himself on the bannister. He shoved off and slid down at high speed.

  Lewis jumped onto the bannister and followed. He’d always hated doing this; only Greg’s dares had forced him into it before. He reached the bottom, came flying off, completely out of control, and fell right into Greg’s arms.

  Greg set him on his feet and they rushed out the front door.

  The Chiz was waiting for them out on the pavement. He looked only marginally less massive than the average mountain. He clamped an enormous hand on Greg’s shoulder and said, “Back to school, Greg. Mrs Witherspoon wants you.”

  Greg wriggled ineffectually and began coughing. “Can’t make it, Chiz,” he wheezed. “I’m sick. Go ask my mum. I’m just on my way to the doctor.”

  He let loose another barking cough to emphasise the point. “He’s a wreck, Chiz,” Lewis put in. “He should be in hospital.”

  “Big trouble if I don’t bring you back,” the Chiz said, slowly shaking his head. Lewis half expected some snow to fall off it.

  “You’ll be in bigger trouble if I die on the way there,” Greg countered, working up another coughing spasm.

  Thoughts were stirring in Chiz’s head with the sluggishness of a tectonic shift, when they heard an all too familiar sound. It was the ululating battle cry of the Valkyries, who came pouring out of the house with vengeance in their eyes.

  Greg wriggled as hard as he could and Lewis tried vainly to prise the Chiz’s fingers loose. The Chiz seemed to hardly notice their efforts. He was gawking at the Valkyries as they formed a circle around the boys.

  “This time there is no escape for you!” Shona Gilhooley declared, once she had finished laughing.

  “Later, girls,” Greg said dismissively. “We’re with the yeti. Tell them, Chiz.”

  “He’s going to school,” the Chiz told the women flatly. He squeezed Greg’s shoulder to show that he meant it.

  “He is coming with us,” Shona stated, grasping the hilt of her sword. Her friends all did likewise.

  Lewis stepped close to the Chiz and said, “Chiz, we need to get out of here!”

  “Sorry, Miss. We need him for target practice,” Chiz apologised as he steered Greg towards the edge of the circle of warrior women.

  Shona Gilhooley struck a martial pose and pointed her sword directly at Chiz’s face.

  “Not a step further, grotesque one!” she warned.

  The Chiz looked puzzled for a second. Then he opened his wide mouth and bit the end off her sword. He chewed noisily before swallowing.

  Shona stared in disbelief. Then her face turned crimson with fury.

  “Get him!” she yelled.

  The other five Valkyries obeyed without hesitation and piled on to the Chiz. Greg took his chance to squirm free and race off down the street, pulling Lewis along behind. He glanced back to see the Chiz tossing Valkyries this way and that, grinning inanely.

  They had not gone far when they heard an ominous sound up ahead, like the roar of an engine mingled with the growl of a beast. All six of the roadsteeds came swerving round the corner and pulled up in front of them. Their eyes blazed like hot coals and gusts of steam blasted from their nostrils. They bucked up and down, their wheels whirling.

  Both boys skidded to a halt.

  “Think of a plan!” Greg said desperately.

  “You mean one that doesn’t end with them pounding us into the ground?” Lewis quavered.

  “Yes, one of those.”

  The roadsteeds roa
red and they surged forward, speeding round and round the brothers in a tight circle.

  “Have you thought of a plan yet?” Greg asked above the din.

  Lewis shook his head. He was starting to feel dizzy.

  A voice called out a command and the roadsteeds halted their frantic motion to make way for Shona and two of her sisters.

  “Yvonne, Trisha, seize them!” Shona ordered.

  The women quickly grabbed Greg and Lewis and trussed them up with thick lengths of rope.

  The other three Valkyries were still locked in a heroic struggle with the Chiz. It wasn’t going their way. One had her arms wrapped uselessly around the Chiz’s knee while the other two ducked under his huge fists, which swung back and forth like a pair of sledgehammers.

  “Chiz, we could use a little help over here!” Greg shouted.

  Shona cuffed him across the mouth. “Silence, fool!” she spat.

  She picked him up and threw him across the front of her roadsteed. One of her sisters bundled Lewis up in the same fashion.

  At a command from their leader, the other Valkyries abandoned their battle with the Chiz and ran for their steeds. All six Valkyries mounted up and roared off.

  “I’m gonna be in trouble now, Greg!” The Chiz shouted after them.

  “You think you’ve got problems!” Greg called back as the road sped by beneath him.

  They raced down Largo Road and up Bridge Street.

  Greg twisted his head to look up at his captor. “Are we going anywhere in particular or is this just a joy ride?” he asked over the roar of the roadsteed.

  “You will see soon enough,” she answered coldly.

  As they swung past the West Sands and on to the Scores, Lewis saw a stampede of kelpies galloping along the beach. The bright green water horses shook their black manes and plunged headlong into the waves, kicking up a cloud of spray behind them.

  The Valkyries coasted down to the castle, which, as Lewis had predicted, was no longer a ruin. Great stone walls reared up to where armoured figures patrolled the battlements and fiery banners fluttered from the lofty towers.

  “I don’t think we’re going to like it here!” Greg shouted to his brother.

  A heavy drawbridge crashed down over the moat and they raced across it to an arch that swallowed them up like the mouth of a colossal beast.

  11. CONVERSATION WITH A CONMAN

  The Valkyries halted their steeds in the middle of the courtyard. They dismounted and dragged Greg and Lewis on to their feet. The boys were untied, but two of the Valkyries gripped them tightly as their chief led the way into the keep. The doors opened before them, admitting them to a stone hall lit by flickering torches, which ended at the foot of a wide, granite stairway.

  They stumbled up the steps and down a long passage decorated with carved images of dragons, snakes and club-wielding giants. A wooden door painted with flames swung open to reveal a spacious, well-lit chamber with a vaulted ceiling.

  The walls were decorated with swords, spears and animal skins, except for the back wall, over which hung a russet curtain. The floor was covered in rugs patterned with red and orange flames. A man sat at a desk in the middle of the room. He rose from his chair and ambled towards them.

  He wore a green suit and scarlet shirt with a black tie. A bright yellow handkerchief protruded from his breast pocket. His long hair was a blazing red, shot through with gold, and swept back from his lean, wily face. A small beard tapered out from his chin and his welcoming grin exposed two rows of sharp white teeth.

  At a signal from the man in the green suit, the Valkyries released their captives and took up position by the door.

  “Come on in, boys,” the man greeted them. “Don’t be shy. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. All day in fact.”

  As Greg and Lewis drew closer, he reached back to his desk and flipped open a box of cigars, selecting one.

  “You’re Lucas Oberon Key,” said Lewis. “Or should I say, Loki, the god of mischief.”

  The man in green chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” He tipped the cigar back and forth between his fingers. “I usually am.”

  Greg scowled. “So you’re behind all this.”

  “Me?” Loki retorted, innocently laying a hand over his heart. “All I did was write the book. It was the two of you who unleashed the magic by saying the rhyme.”

  “So it only works if two people recite it,” said Lewis.

  Loki nodded. “It’s one of the safety features of really big magic. One idiot can’t stir up this sort of mayhem by himself. He has to persuade another idiot to help him.”

  “You’d better watch who you’re insulting, Loki,” Greg bristled.

  “Oh, I am grateful to you boys,” said the god of mischief. “Never doubt that for a moment.”

  “Then why don’t you let us go?” Lewis asked.

  Loki gave him a sly look. “I never repay a favour. It would be bad for my image. After a couple of millennia out of the picture, that’s something I have to work on.”

  “For a god, you don’t look like much,” Greg told him.

  “I never was a god, in the strict sense of the word,” Loki corrected him. “I was a fire giant by birth, not one of the Aesir, like Odin and the rest. I was sort of an adopted god, I suppose. And believe me, the rest of them gave me some stick about that! Why do you think I was so peeved all the time?”

  “But you can do magic, can’t you?” Lewis asked.

  “My powers aren’t what they were, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” A small flame sprouted from the end of Loki’s finger and he used it to light his cigar. He drew in the smoke deeply, expelling it through his nostrils as a thin, sulfurous vapour.

  “I bet you couldn’t even light that cigar without a match if it wasn’t your special day,” Lewis surmised.

  Loki exhaled a smoke ring and raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pretty smart kid. Yes, as men became less dependent on us gods, it got to the point where we each had to settle for one day when we could come down and meddle in their affairs. On his day Odin would spread wisdom. Thor would make a lot of thunder, so that was a good day to stay indoors. Me, I’d sneak around playing little tricks and working mischief. It was hilarious. Then when I started pulling pranks on the other Aesir, they got mad and had my day yanked out of the calendar.

  “Odin, in his supposed wisdom, exiled me, and I wandered the earth for centuries, immortal but powerless, waiting for my chance to make a comeback. During that time the Aesir must have dozed off, or their power just drained away, so you don’t hear much out of them any more. Me, I managed to scrape a living gambling, conjuring, selling used cars, that kind of thing. But I still had a hankering for the good old days. That’s why I wrote that book.”

  “The Folklore of Time,” said Lewis. “It could do with an index.”

  “It was meant to be a mess, so it wouldn’t attract too much attention,” Loki explained, “so that nobody would realise its true purpose. The Lokiday rhyme was the only part that counted. I had to sneak it in somewhere where none of the other gods would notice, just in case they were snooping around. Then all I needed was for somebody to come along who wanted the spell to be true so much that he could make it work. You know, somebody gormless enough to believe in that sort of balderdash.”

  “You need to watch your mouth, Loki,” Greg scowled.

  “Kid, I’ve insulted better and wiser men than you. That’s part of my job description.”

  “So when did you get to town?” Lewis asked. “Were you here yesterday?”

  Loki shook his head and took a puff on his cigar.

  “When the spell started to take effect it sucked me right here, to the centre of things. It’s kind of a shame, because at the time I was in Las Vegas sitting on a straight flush. To be honest, it’s been so long since I wrote that book, I’d pretty much forgotten about it. I was hardly even aware of my true nature any more. But when I felt the magic pulling at me, it all came rushing back and I knew exactly wh
at was happening.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Greg. “How does a cheap conman like you pull off something this big?”

  Loki’s mouth twitched irritably at the insult. “The way I figure it is this,” he said: “every week on Lokiday, a little bit of magic used to leak into the world, just enough to cause a few laughs. Now, when there was no more Lokiday, there was no place for the magic to go, so for centuries it’s been building up and building up, like water behind a dam.”

  “And now it’s all burst out at once,” said Lewis.

  Loki leaned back against his desk and blew a plume of smoke at the vaulted ceiling. “Bingo, kid. Pretty spectacular, isn’t it? For now it’s just this little town of yours that’s been transformed, but the magic is spreading even as we speak. Pretty soon it will be Lokiday all over the world.”

  “Only if we let you get away with it,” Greg warned him.

  Loki laughed. “And how are you going to stop me?”

  Greg sputtered angrily. “We started this thing and we’ll find a way to finish it. Won’t we, Lewis?”

  Lewis felt his stomach sink. Loki seemed so sure of himself; he didn’t see how they could beat him. “I suppose maybe… maybe…” he stammered, “maybe we could… you know…”

  Suddenly his eyes grew wide as he spotted a large book with a mottled cover on the desk behind Loki. Aunt Vivien’s cookbook.

  “I admit you boys sparked all this off,” said Loki, “and whatever was going on in your heads at the time influenced how things turned out. What’s more, you haven’t been changed by the spell. I hadn’t counted on that.”

  Greg noticed that Lewis was shuffling across the floor, trying to edge his way around Loki, and when his eyes lighted on the book, he understood why.

  “Don’t think we’re finished yet,” he asserted loudly, distracting the Viking god’s attention. “This is our town and we’re not letting you turn it into your own private play park. Like Shakespeare says, ‘Tomorrow is another day.’”

  “I think you’re getting your quotes mixed up,” Loki smirked. “Besides, tomorrow isn’t coming, thanks to this.”

  He reached back and snatched up the book, just as Lewis made a grab for it. Loki flicked some ash from his cigar and it exploded in a plume of smoke right at Lewis’ feet, sending him scurrying back to Greg’s side.