Land of Lost Things

by Cat Weldon

  Lotta giggled. ‘Nice one.’

  Hearing Loki’s cries of pain, Jormungandr squeezed his body tighter round the longboat. Whetstone slipped as the deck buckled beneath his feet.

  ‘STOP!’ Lotta yelled. ‘Stop! I’m going to tell Odin—’

  With a great boom, the sail came crashing down, covering the ship with canvas. Lotta dived out of the way, crashing through the fractured boat and into the cold ocean.

  ‘LOTTA!’ Whetstone threw himself at the side of the boat.

  A head with thick black hair bobbed to the surface. Whetstone almost collapsed with relief. ‘I’ll get you out of there!’

  He looked around what was left of the wooden longboat. Great cracks split the sides and most of the crew were missing. Whetstone tried not to think about what had happened to them. Loki and the cat were nowhere to be seen. He grabbed a coil of rope, quickly looping one end round the snarling figurehead before throwing the other end towards Lotta.

  Lotta thrashed in the water, weighed down by her armour. Each time she dipped under the waves it took her longer to resurface.

  ‘C’mon,’ Whetstone muttered. ‘Find the rope.’

  Hands grabbed him from behind. Snotra snarled at Whetstone, her face covered in painful scratches. ‘You can’t stop us!’

  Whetstone twisted away. ‘There is no “us” ! He’ll leave you out here to die.’

  The ship creaked, jagged peaks appearing as the floorboards splintered apart. The boy grabbed hold of the grimacing figurehead and swung himself out, dangling over the water, away from Snotra’s grasping fingers.

  Something tugged on his foot. Jormungandr had taken hold of his boot and was peeling him away from the boat. Whetstone kicked out wildly and his too-big boot slid off and vanished into the sea monster’s mouth.

  With a crunch, the boat finally gave up. Water rushed to fill enormous holes in the sides. Jormungandr roared, sinking into the dark water, dragging the rear of the boat down with him. Whetstone clung on as the figurehead was thrust high into the air, his fingers slipping on the greasy wood. The last few Vikings dived into the water to try to escape being taken down with the sinking ship.

  The figurehead splintered, plunging Whetstone into the cold ocean. He gasped in shock and immediately swallowed a huge mouthful of seawater before a frothing wave dragged him down.

  Whetstone wasn’t a strong swimmer. In fact, he wasn’t much of a swimmer at all. Having had a nasty experience growing up in Drott, when some of the older boys had thrown him into the lake, he usually tried to avoid the water completely.

  Whetstone’s head broke the surface, gasping for breath once more, his clothes and remaining boot weighing him down. He kicked off the boot and tried with numb fingers to undo his cloak. Bragi floated past, clinging to a piece of broken mast. Whetstone kicked out awkwardly towards him, but before he’d gone more than a couple of yards, a cold, clammy hand grabbed his arm.

  Whetstone spun in the water – a wave smacked him in the face. When his vision cleared, he saw Lotta, soaking wet but safe, sitting on a raft of broken timbers. With difficulty, she hauled him up to join her as he floated past.

  ‘Th-th-th-thanks, Lotta.’

  Freyja’s big fluffy cat was curled up on the raft with them, its fur dark with seawater. It licked a paw and screwed up its face at the taste.

  ‘You saved the cat, then.’ Whetstone grinned through blue lips.

  The raft bumped into something. Whetstone looked up as Naglfar loomed over them, the toenail sides giving the boat a pearly sheen. Dead sailors gripped the oars, keeping the boat steady in the choppy water. With a crack of green light, Loki reappeared on the boat. The cat hissed, its hackles rising.

  Loki leaned over the side of the ship, his face covered in scratches. He stretched out a hand. ‘Come with me – I’ll take you to dry land.’

  Whetstone leaned away. ‘No way. I’m not going anywhere with you.’

  The raft rocked as Lotta rose on to her knees. Her hand fumbled behind her, but found only an empty scabbard. Her sword was gone.

  ‘You only want to help because you think I know the riddle,’ Whetstone began.

  ‘I know you know the riddle,’ the man replied, still smiling.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Whetstone replied hotly. ‘You weren’t there. That all happened after the dragon ate you!’

  Loki’s smile widened. ‘So you do know it. I thought as much.’

  Whetstone spluttered in frustration.

  ‘Nice one,’ Lotta muttered. ‘That was exactly the wrong thing to say.’

  Loki lifted a bundle from by his feet, a shimmering golden harp frame with a carved figurehead poked out of the sack.

  Whetstone’s mouth went dry.

  It was the Skera Harp.

  ‘I found the harp frame in Niflheim. Tell me where the strings are, and I will take you to your parents.’

  Whetstone found himself unable to look away from Loki’s face. It was so tempting. All he wanted was his parents back. He didn’t care that much about the harp strings themselves. But then Loki would have all that power . . . Whetstone blinked, trying to break the spell Loki had over him.

  Odin had instructed Whetstone to find the harp strings before Loki could use them to break down the walls between the Nine Worlds. If Loki fixed the harp, he would be able to send all the monsters out of Whetstone’s nightmares and into Midgard. Enormous wolves, dragons, Giants, sea monsters . . .

  ‘Loki!’ Snotra clung to the lid of a chest. She reached out a hand to the smiling man. ‘Help me!’

  Loki ignored her, still intent on Whetstone. The harp shifted in his arms. ‘You’re no Hero, Whetstone, despite what Odin might have told you. He’s just using you because he’s too lazy to do anything himself. But I want to help you. Just tell me the riddle and you’ll be back with your parents by tomorrow.’

  ‘Loki, please!’ Snotra bobbed beneath the waves for a second, her grip slipping on the smooth wood. ‘This isn’t what we agreed!’

  The scars around Loki’s mouth twisted his smile into something unpleasant.

  The water beneath them bubbled and seethed.

  ‘Jormungandr!’ Lotta seized a piece of broken wood, trying to paddle away.

  ‘You promised me adventures in new lands!’ Snotra’s fingers slipped again.

  Loki turned his dark eyes on the struggling woman. ‘Indeed I did. Your adventures begin with Aegir’s kingdom.’

  ‘Aegir,’ Whetstone muttered, glancing at Lotta. ‘The Sea King?’

  Lotta nodded as she paddled the raft in circles. ‘His kingdom is filled with drowned sailors.’

  ‘Loki, please, pull me up!’ Snotra gasped, reaching out.

  Loki leaned away. ‘Goodbye, whatever your name was. Say hello to Aegir for me.’

  A whirlpool opened and, with a sucking pop, Snotra vanished beneath the waves.

  ‘Jormungandr ate her!’ Whetstone spluttered.

  Loki nodded. ‘And you’re next. Unless you join me now.’

  Lotta grabbed Whetstone’s shoulder, peering into his face. ‘Don’t listen to him. There’s more than one type of Hero, remember?’

  Whetstone could only nod, his head numb with cold and shock. A roaring sound filled his ears.

  Loki reached towards him. ‘There is no time. Come with me!’

  ‘I don’t think so, Loki,’ Lotta declared. ‘And you’re wrong – there is another way out.’

  She pointed at the northern horizon. A horizon that seemed a lot closer now. The roaring grew louder and Whetstone realized it wasn’t just inside his head.

  Lotta grinned. ‘See you in another of the Nine Worlds!’

  Loki grew pale. He placed the harp back down by his feet. ‘You cannot be serious. Trying to pass between the worlds on a raft is madness!’

  Whetstone jerked. ‘Passing where in a what?’

  Lotta got up on to her knees again. Holding on to Whetstone’s shoulder for support, she punched one hand into the air. ‘VALHALLA FOREVER!’

/>   Caught in a riptide, the raft spun away from Loki and his boat of dead men. Whetstone’s stomach heaved.

  ‘Trust me,’ Lotta shouted over the thundering water. ‘And hold on to the cat!’

  The raft tipped. Whetstone grabbed the ball of angry fur as they were thrown over the edge of Midgard and out into the unknown.

  Chapter Six

  Alfheim is Nice this Time of Year

  Back in Asgard, Flay led Thighbiter into the stables. The horse whickered at the unfamiliar Valkyrie. ‘Shhh. Look, you’re home now – everything is back to normal.’

  Thighbiter tossed his mane. Usually Lotta gave him apples after a long flight, but apart from the one this silver-haired girl had given him, there didn’t seem to be any more coming. Thighbiter sneezed at her, showering the girl with bogeys. Flay gagged.

  ‘The horse is as disgusting as Lotta,’ Flay’s sister Flee remarked, stuffing hay into Thighbiter’s stall. ‘Good thing she’s gone.’ On Thighbiter’s back, Lotta’s shield shimmered gently.

  The stable door opened behind them. ‘Come on, girls. Only villains lurk in the shadows.’

  Flee smirked and followed the sound of the voice outside into the courtyard. Flay followed, raking her fingers through her bogey-filled hair.

  Glinting-Fire ticked her clipboard with her pencil. ‘The horse is back – good. We can’t have valuable assets like that left behind.’ She looked up at the two girls, her thick black plaits sticking out on either side of her helmet. ‘And the, ahem, defect?’

  ‘We followed her to Midgard.’ Flee tossed her head. ‘She landed on the boat, so we took the horse and left her there. Jormungandr has probably eaten her by now.’

  Glinting-Fire scribbled something on her clipboard. ‘I am still amazed that she fell for that ridiculous story about the cat being a gift for Njord.’

  Flay gave up on her bogey-encrusted plait and tossed it over her shoulder. ‘Is it true you stole Freyja’s cat because she told everyone your porridge tasted like cat litter?’

  Glinting-Fire’s eyes narrowed. ‘Two problems; one stone.’

  Flay gulped.

  Glinting-Fire held her gaze. ‘Where is the cat now? Did you bring it back like you were supposed to?’

  Flee and Flay looked at each other. ‘Um—’

  Glinting-Fire pursed her lips. ‘Freyja is not going to be happy. It was only supposed to go missing for a short while, not permanently!’

  Pink spots appeared on the twins’ cheeks.

  ’I don’t have time for these mistakes; we’re on a very tight schedule.’ Glinting-Fire tutted. She strode across the courtyard.

  Flay scurried after her, her hand raised. ‘Err, excuse me. Glinting-Fire?’

  The short Valkyrie stopped. Flay almost crashed into her heels. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Why exactly did you want to get rid of Lotta? I mean, if it’s not rude to . . . ask . . .’ Flay trailed to a halt as Glinting-Fire glared, the tattooed lines on her face scrunching up.

  ‘Change is coming. The Nine Worlds will be reordered and I intend for the Valkyries to take their rightful place at the top,’ the tiny Valkyrie said carefully.

  Flee looked at Flay in confusion. ‘What does that mean? Odin is at the top.’

  ‘I have an arrangement with someone,’ Glinting-Fire continued, ‘who understands that for things be rebuilt they must first be destroyed. The present system is . . . due an upgrade. This is our opportunity to show the Nine Worlds our true power.’ Glinting-Fire took a step towards the twins. ‘As ambitious young ladies, I’m sure you understand that there are still a few loose ends to tie up before we can go public with the plan. Your assistance will of course be rewarded.’

  Flee and Flay glanced at each other and nodded.

  ‘Wonderful. I can immediately see that you are obviously Class Two material.’

  The twins preened.

  Glinting-Fire smiled. ‘Of course, not all Valkyries are as clever as you two: some will need to be shown the errors of their ways and brought to the true path. Others, like the unfortunate Lotta, will need to be removed entirely in order to let us all flourish.’

  Flee wrinkled her nose. ‘So you got rid of Lotta because she’s a rubbish Valkyrie?’

  ‘I have great ambitions for the Valkyries,’ Glinting-Fire continued. ‘Under my leadership we can make the Hero system much more efficient. But for us to advance there are some consequences for Midgard.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Flay, understanding. ‘Lotta helped that smelly human boy. You thought she’d tip Midgard off about your plans!’

  Glinting-Fire sniffed. ‘Valkyries shouldn’t fraternize with humans. We are far greater than them.’

  ‘But we don’t know for definite what happened to Lotta.’ Flee bit her lip. ‘Shouldn’t we check?’

  Glinting-Fire gave a tiny smile. ‘Did you bring back the girl’s shield?’

  Flay nodded.

  Glinting-Fire tucked her clipboard under her arm and marched back to the stables. Despite her small size, she moved very quickly and often in unexpected directions, like a ferret that had been stung by a wasp. Thighbiter curled his lip at the sight of them.

  Flay strode to the horse and grabbed the circular shield. ‘Ow!’ She dropped it, sucking her burning fingers. ‘It’s red hot!’ Thighbiter stamped his hoof.

  Glinting-Fire poked the fallen shield with her pencil. ‘A shield is connected to the Valkyrie who owns it. You can’t be a Valkyrie without a shield. If you’re displaying strong Valkyrie skills, your shield will glow brightly. If you’re failing, they’re dull.’

  ‘And if they’re red hot?’

  Glinting-Fire prodded it again. ‘Clearly Jormungandr didn’t eat Lotta. We need to break the bond between this shield and the girl as soon as possible.’

  ‘But then Lotta wouldn’t be a Valkyrie any more,’ Flee spluttered.

  Flay trod on her sister’s toe. ‘That’s kind of the point, dummy. If she likes humans so much, she might as well go and be one.’

  ‘Flee? Flay?’ boomed a voice from the courtyard. ‘Where are you?’

  The twins peered out to see the mighty Scold standing with her hands on her hips, gazing around. Her breastplate glinted in the sunlight. The twins turned pale.

  Flay whispered, ‘What about Scold? She will never understand. She’ll try to stop you.’

  ‘Scold has lost her edge,’ Glinting-Fire muttered. ‘I’ve been softening her up for weeks.’ The short Valkyrie gave Flee and Flay a calculating look. ‘Why don’t we see if you two can finish the job?’

  Flee gulped.

  Glinting-Fire marched over to Scold and prodded her on the hip with her pencil. ‘Good – you’re here. I’m checking up on the stables. Do you always leave them in such a mess?’

  Scold sucked in a breath. ‘What mess?’

  ‘To start with, the bridles aren’t straight, there are cobwebs on the blankets and that horse needs to be mucked out.’ She glanced over her shoulder at Flay. ‘Get on with it, would you, girl?’

  Flay kicked some hay over the fallen shield. Smoke curled up from where the hay touched it.

  Scold pulled herself up to her full height. ‘Glinting-Fire, you need to watch your tone. In case you have forgotten, you are not Leader of the Valkyries. I am.’

  Glinting-Fire squinted up at the larger woman. ‘And I am in charge of Discipline and Order in the Valkyrie ranks.’

  Scold’s nostrils flared.

  ‘I can see why Odin wanted me to keep an eye on you.’ Glinting-Fire scribbled something on her clipboard. ‘Standards are slipping and that cannot continue.’

  Scold’s olive face turned pink. ‘I have had no complaints—’

  ‘More Discipline and Order. That’s what this place needs.’ Glinting-Fire tapped her pencil decisively on her clipboard. ‘What other things have been getting on top of you recently? You’d better tell me so I can sort them out before things get any worse.’

  Scold’s jaw clenched.

  Flay took a deep breath
and ducked past Glinting-Fire to take Scold’s arm. ‘Scold, we all know that you’re the Leader of the Valkyries and you’re a brilliant teacher, but everyone needs a rest from time to time. When did you last have a holiday?’

  ‘A holiday? Valkyries don’t take holidays,’ Scold spluttered.

  ‘Well, maybe they should,’ said Flee, forcing a look of sympathy on to her face and joining her sister. She dropped her voice. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I did hear Odin talking after the poetry contest. He seemed worried you were letting things slip. It’s only natural that things get missed when you work as hard as you do.’

  Flay nodded, her voice low. ‘So why not take this opportunity to have a little rest? Put your feet up. Let Glinting-Fire do some work for a change.’

  ‘Put my feet up? What are you two on about?’

  Flee moved closer. ‘Glinting-Fire is always hanging around Valhalla with her clipboard. When was the last time she served mead?’

  ‘Or recited some poetry?’

  ‘Or brought back a fallen warrior?’

  Scold’s brow furrowed as she considered this. ‘You might have a point.’

  Flay nodded, her uneven plaits bouncing up and down. ‘Exactly. Remind everyone of how hard you work –’

  ‘– by not working for a bit,’ Flee agreed. ‘Everyone will soon come crawling back to you. There’s no way Glinting-Fire will be able to do your job – she’d soon muck it up.’

  The trio peered back at the tattooed Valkyrie. A pencil smudge ran up the side of her face. Flee sniggered.

  ‘Oh, all right. I have been meaning to visit Alfheim. Maybe I will ask Odin for a few days off.’ Scold prised her arms away from the twins. ‘But I want to see Lotta as soon as she gets back from Midgard. How long can it take to deliver a parcel? Did Glinting-Fire give it to her all right?’

  Flay nodded. ‘Oh yes. And as soon as Lotta gets back we’ll let you know.’

  With a last harrumph, Scold left the twins. Flee squeezed Flay’s hand. As Scold’s shadow vanished through the archway, the girls skipped back to Glinting-Fire.

  ‘We did it.’

  ‘She’s gone!’

  Glinting-Fire looked at them appraisingly. ‘I never realized quite how cunning you two were.’ The twins smirked. ‘We will need a more permanent solution for Scold eventually, but let’s focus on the girl for now.’