by Joan Holub
“No, we were just going to ask you the same thing,” said Freya. “We haven’t seen her since before breakfast.”
Bragi’s eyebrows rose. “She didn’t say what she was doing today?” he asked Freya, falling into step with her, Sif, and Skade.
“Only that she was off to tend her apple grove first thing,” Freya told him. “Which is what she does most mornings.”
“We were just there, though,” Sif added. “She wasn’t anywhere around.”
“But she must have been there earlier because the apples on about half the trees had been picked,” said Skade.
As Bragi watched, Freya pulled her amazing walnut-size teardrop-shaped jewel from one of the pouches that hung around her neck. “Tell me, Brising, where is Idun? Is she in danger?” she asked her magical jewel. After listening carefully, she repeated the jewel’s reply that only she could hear:
“Her exact location I cannot see,
But here is the vision that comes to me.
Shelves of spices, pots, and pans.
And Idun, a girl who’s hatching plans.”
“That sounds like she could be in the V’s kitchen!” Skade exclaimed.
The group picked up their pace along the broad path. Bragi could already see the Valhallateria’s gold-thatched roof shining through Yggdrasil’s branches ahead. He wasn’t so sure they’d find Idun there, though. Something felt off about all this. “Why would she leave half the apples unpicked?”
Sif shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe she got interrupted?”
“Yeah, someone might’ve come along and needed something,” said Skade.
“She’s always helping out friends with stuff, you know?” added Freya. She cocked her head at Bragi. “That’s why we wondered if you’d seen her. Because you guys were talking together yesterday, acting like friends.”
Bragi’s cheeks warmed at Freya’s emphasis on the word “friends.” Had these girls guessed that he was crushing on Idun? Had Idun herself figured it out? His cheeks heated even more. Since Freya was the girlgoddess of love (as well as beauty), she probably had a sixth sense about these things. Whatever! This wasn’t the time to worry about stuff like that. They’d arrived at the Valhallateria and needed to find out if Idun was in trouble.
Moving ahead, he pulled on one of the V-shaped door handles and then stepped aside to let the girls enter first. He had noticed this was something Odin did for his wife, Ms. Frigg, and he thought it was kind of cool. Plus, he admired Principal Odin enough to copy stuff he did like this.
“Maybe she’s been in the V all this time. She could have delivered half of her apples and then stayed to talk to the Valkyries,” Sif said hopefully.
Bragi nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” But a quick scan of the V’s dining area, which was beginning to fill with students, showed that Idun wasn’t there.
“Let’s check the kitchen,” Freya suggested. Crossing the room, they moved past the apple juice–spouting Heidrun.
Just as they were about to enter the kitchen’s double doors, a voice from within called out a warning: “Door!”
Scrambling, all four students managed to leap aside. They barely missed being mowed down by a Valkyrie exiting the kitchen. She was bearing two huge trays, one balanced on each of her raised palms. Seeing Freya and the others, she wavered, almost losing one of the trays before righting it.
“Ooh! Careful. Watch where you’re going!” she cautioned before zooming out into the room full of hungry students.
“Sorry!” Sif called after her.
Copying the Valkyrie’s warning, Skade yelled “Door!” to any other kitchen workers within earshot. Then the four students pushed safely through the double doors and into the kitchen.
Bragi studied the hive of activity inside. Valkyries flitted around, busily cooking over stoves, putting things into or taking things out of ovens, juggling platters and pots of various foods. Magical spoons, unassisted by anyone’s hands, were stirring pots while magical knives raced up and down a line of cutting boards, chopping up fruits and vegetables. Despite the seeming chaos, it was easy to see that Idun wasn’t here. But maybe she’d been in the kitchen earlier?
“Excuse us!” Freya called over the din.
A Valkyrie with bright red hair glanced up. Flapping her wings, she flew eagerly over to the group. “I know you girls. You’re Idun’s friends, right? Did you bring her golden apples?”
The four of them shook their heads. “We were just going to ask if she’d delivered any of them here today like usual,” Sif said. “We can’t find her.”
The Valkyrie’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed. “Ymir’s soup bowl! No! We’re all out and we need more. Used the last of yesterday’s apples in this morning’s turnovers, so—”
Before she could finish whatever she’d been about to say, Freya interrupted her with a gasp. “Oh no! I skipped the turnovers at breakfast today. I just had oatmeal!” She hurried over to where some shiny pots dangled from hooks on a rack fixed to the ceiling. Looking upward, she stared at her reflection in the polished metal bottom of a large frying pan as if it were a mirror.
Seemed like a strange time to be checking her appearance when she was worried about her friend, Bragi thought, but whatever. Girls were pretty much a mystery to him.
With a worried look on her face, Sif glanced over at Freya and then back at the Valkyrie. “Well, at least apple juice hasn’t stopped flowing from Heidrun,” she noted.
The Valkyrie nodded. “True, but that juice isn’t made from Idun’s apples. We tried a new recipe for the apple turnovers this morning, and as I started to say…” She paused here and flicked a look at Freya, who was still studying her reflection. “We accidentally burned ’em. So the turnovers we served at breakfast, as well as the juice, were all made from regular apples.”
Skade frowned. “So nothing we ate at breakfast today came from Idun’s apples of youth?”
“ ’Fraid not,” the red-haired Valkyrie said with a sigh. “I hope that girlgoddess shows up soon with today’s crop. Or else.”
Bragi was about to ask exactly what that meant, when another Valkyrie flew up to explain. “Idun can only harvest eighty-one apples each day from her grove, a rather limited supply.”
The other Valkyrie nodded. “So we always use a mix of her magic apples and ordinary ones for every recipe requiring apples. Normally, that means a ratio of one part apples of youth to ten parts regular apples.”
“I never knew that,” Bragi said in surprise as both Valkyries flew off back to their work. The second Valkyrie had brought a tray of snacks, so he and the four friends began munching as they spoke.
“Me neither,” said Sif.
“Same here,” said Skade. “The power of Idun’s apples must be superstrength if a one-to-ten ratio is enough to keep us all young.”
“I wonder how long the youthful effects last if—” Bragi started to say. But before he could finish with the supply of Idun’s apples runs out, Freya gave a yelp.
All this time she had continued to gaze at herself in the shiny frying pan’s bottom, but now she whirled around to face him and her friends. “My hair!” she cried out, a horrified look on her face. “It’s turning gray!”
When they hurried over to look, the girls gasped and Bragi gaped. Because it was true. Freya’s normally long pale-blond hair was slowly turning a dull gray. She tugged on Skade’s and Sif’s arms and stuck her face close to theirs so that they were almost nose to nose. “Quick, look at me. Am I getting wrinkles?”
“I… I don’t know,” said Skade, squinting at Freya’s face. “Something has happened to my eyesight. I think I need glasses!” Since she was half-goddess (besides being half-giant), she depended on Idun’s apples to stay youthful too!
“What did you say?” asked Sif, cupping her ear. “My hearing’s gone bad.”
“Uh-oh. This is not good,” Bragi told the girls. “Do the math. Last night’s dinner was around six, and it’s nearly noon now. That means it’s been close to eighteen hours s
ince we last ate anything made with Idun’s special apples. Apparently, that’s about how long their youth-restoring effects last. If we don’t find Idun fast and get her picking apples in her grove again, Asgard Academy is going to turn into a retirement home.”
“What? Why would you want to ‘knit her pickled apples in a stove’?” asked Sif, cupping a hand around one ear again. “I didn’t know you could knit. And why in a stove?”
While Skade explained loudly to Sif what he’d actually said, Bragi rubbed his chin, thinking hard about where Idun could possibly be. “Whaaa?” he said in surprise. “My chin! It’s all prickly. I’m growing a beard!”
He and Loki had been wishing they could grow beards. Heimdall had told them they shouldn’t be in too big of a hurry to grow up, though. Who knew that warning would turn out to be prophetic? Cool as a beard was, he wasn’t ready to get old. He had only just gotten his first crush on a girl!
Toot! Toot! Toooot! Just then three long, low blasts sounded from a distant horn. “Heimdall’s emergency signal!” Bragi exclaimed. “We’re being summoned to Gladsheim.”
“I think I can guess what the emergency is,” said Freya. “Gray hair and wrinkles! We can’t be the only ones getting old too soon around here.”
The four friends dashed from the kitchen and through the eating area to join other students fleeing outside. Once they’d funneled out through the V’s main doors, they made their way along branchways and fernways. Gladsheim Hall’s silver-thatched roof shone up ahead in the pale sunshine that peeked through Yggdrasil’s branches and leaves.
Since the apples of youth didn’t affect them, the appearances of human, elf, giant, and dwarf students and teachers hadn’t changed. However, everyone was gawking at the young goddesses and gods, shocked at how suddenly they were aging. Some moved more slowly than usual with shuffling steps, or they were hobbling along with walking sticks.
“Ow! Watch where you’re going!” Skade said, bumping into a tree and mistaking it for another student.
“Excuse us,” Bragi said to the tree. Then he nudged Skade around it before she could realize her mistake and get embarrassed.
Minutes later, they all entered Gladsheim Hall.
11 Gladsheim Gathering
FROM BESIDE BRAGI, SIF GASPED. “Look! It’s Odin and Ms. Frigg!”
On a raised platform at the front of Gladsheim Hall stood an elderly god and goddess. Bragi’s eyes widened in surprise, because these two coprincipals of the academy had aged almost beyond recognition!
Once the most awe-inspiring, powerful god of all, Odin was now bent and frail. Draupnir, his magical gold arm-ring, hung loose around his elbow now as he leaned on a walking stick. No, wait. That wasn’t a walking stick, but Gungnir, his magical spear. The spear was famous for always finding its mark when thrown, but Odin probably lacked the strength to even lift it now!
As usual, he wore a black patch over one eye. His single good eye, which had always been startlingly clear and bright blue, was now milky and pale. And gone was Ms. Frigg’s thick and fashionably styled blond hair, as well as her straight-backed, graceful figure. Her hair had become wispy and white, and her skin practically hung from her bones.
Everyone watched as the pair lowered themselves, groaning, to sit upon two carved majestic thrones. Caw! Caw! Two large black ravens flew into the hall through an open window and landed on Odin’s now-bony shoulders.
Squinting his single good eye, Odin surveyed the crowd. Everyone quieted as he began to speak. “As you’ve probably figured out by now, Idun is missing!” he called out in a croaky voice. “We must find her and her apples before it’s too late. If anyone has any information that might help…”
“I do!” a voice announced from the back of the room. Bragi and the rest of those gathered in the hall turned to see Heimdall. Gasps swept the room. Because the school watchman had aged too! He was practically bald now, with a large paunchy stomach that hung over his belt and strained at the buttons of his uniform.
“I spoke to her on the Bifrost Bridge this morning,” Heimdall went on as he made his way through the crowd to stand before the thrones. He turned sideways so that he could address both the coprincipals and the crowd at once. “She had her eski with her,” he said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “It was half full. Said she was off to scatter apple seeds—ordinary ones—down in Midgard.” He paused, then asked dramatically, “Guess who was going with her?”
“Loki?” several voices called out at once. Other voices joined them, till his name became a roar. “LOKI!”
Bragi groaned. Since his friend and roomie was usually at the heart of any trouble at Asgard Academy, it was a fair guess that he was involved somehow.
“You got it!” Heimdall boomed.
An angry murmur rose from the crowd. Even Angerboda, who usually acted like she was crushing on Loki, joined in, living up to the “anger” part of her name.
Bragi felt angry too. This time it seemed Loki had gone too far. What had he done with Idun?
“Go, everyone! Search for Idun and Loki and bring them here!” Odin ordered. Though he might be frail, he hadn’t lost his ability to command. His magical ravens, Hugin and Munin, hopped up and down on his shoulders.
“What did he say?” asked Sif as everyone stampeded toward the exit (though not as quickly as they might once have done in their former youth). Bragi watched Freya lean close to Sif to fill her in on what had been said, but after that he lost track of the girls as they were swept up in the surging crowd.
Caw! Caw! Just as he reached Gladsheim’s doors, Bragi looked up to see Hugin and Munin flap out of a high window. They’d be searching too. After all, part of their job was to fly out over the world daily to gather what news they could. When they returned to perch on Odin’s shoulders, they would whisper whatever they’d seen and heard into his ears. Hopefully soon that news would be that Idun, and Loki as well, were safe!
As everyone left the hall and spread out to search for the missing students, Bragi wound up next to Honir. “What do you think is going on?” Honir asked him.
“Idun would never ignore her responsibility to supply the V with her golden apples,” Bragi replied worriedly. “Something must’ve happened to stop her.”
Honir twirled the ends of the handlebar mustache he now sported and nodded. “Yeah, something named Loki.”
“Seems like it,” Bragi agreed. “Let’s search for them together,” he suggested. “We can start in Midgard, since Heimdall said that’s where they were heading.” He glanced up at the overcast sky. The temperature had fallen since morning and soon it would be snowing again. He pulled his mittens and hat from the pocket of his tunic and put them on. Then he wrapped his cloak more tightly about him.
“Okay,” said Honir. His lanky frame shook with a shiver. “Brr,” he said, blowing on his fingers. “I’m c-c-cold.”
“Put on your mittens and hat,” Bragi told him.
Most students wouldn’t need to be told to do that, but Honir was Honir. It probably hadn’t occurred to him that he could make himself less cold.
Honir stuck his hands into his tunic pockets. As his fingers searched inside them, a puzzled look came over his face. “They’re not h-h-here,” he said at last.
“You probably left them in our room,” Bragi said. “We can stop by the dorm and get them before we go down to Midgard.”
“Y-y-yeah,” Honir replied through chattering teeth.
The two boygods detoured to Breidablik Hall and in no time were passing through the main room with its communal firepit and collection of tables and stools. They made a beeline for their room, one of eighteen sleeping pods of various sizes that were spaced all around the edge of the round-shaped common area.
“Be quick,” Bragi said as he and Honir pushed in through the door of the sleeping pod they shared with Loki. “If you can’t find your hat and mittens in your closet, I’ve got extras in mine you can borrow.”
Inside their pod, both boys came to an abrupt
halt, eyes bugging out in surprise. “Loki?” they said at the exact same time.
Apparently unaware that everyone was out hunting for him, the boygod was lying in his podbed, which was basically a hammock, munching on an apple and reading a comic book. He did a double take when he looked up and saw Bragi and Honir.
“Whoa!” he said. Then he laughed. “Look at you two. Talk about a hairy situation! Is that stick-on beard hair?”
Bragi ignored this comment. Seeing that Loki looked as young as always, his eyes narrowed. “Is that one of Idun’s golden apples you’re eating?” He stepped closer to Loki’s podbed. At the same time, he looked over his shoulder at Honir and silently mouthed the words Follow my lead. Luckily, the often-clueless boy seemed to catch Bragi’s drift, and he stepped closer to Loki too.
Loki swung his legs over the side of his podbed to sit on the edge of it. “Yeah, I think so,” he said, sounding a little wary now. After polishing off what remained of the apple in two quick bites, he rose to toss its core in the nearby trash can.
With a nod toward Honir, Bragi shouted, “Now! Get him!” In a flash, he slipped behind Loki and hooked a hand under each of his armpits. Meanwhile, Honir stooped and grabbed hold of Loki’s ankles. Together they lifted and carried the squirming and protesting boygod in the direction of Gladsheim Hall. It wasn’t easy, since Bragi and Honir were both missing the usual youthful effects of consuming Idun’s magic apples. They moved slowly, huffing and puffing.
“Where’s Idun?” Bragi demanded of Loki along the way. “What did you do with her?”
“Who, me? Nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Loki replied. “What makes you think I’d know where your girlfriend is?”
“Idun’s not my girlfriend,” blustered Honir, misunderstanding.
Ignoring this, Bragi said to Loki, “Everyone’s looking for her. Heimdall said you both went down to Midgard this morning to plant apple seeds.”
A look of guilty surprise darted across Loki’s face. “Oh, yeah. We did do that,” he admitted. “But then we came back. She’s probably in her dorm room over in Vingolf Hall. If you’ll put me down, we can all go see.”
