by Cat Weldon
‘Whetstone, you need to get out of here,’ Hod began. ‘If your mother could see you playing with giant wolves, she would have a fit!’
Vali gave Hod a powerful shove. Music reverberated again.
Whetstone dodged sideways as Fenrir stretched out a huge paw. ‘I’m not playing with it! We’ve got to get . . . Lotta’s . . . shield.’ The boy staggered round in a circle as his ears finally caught up with his brain. ‘What do you mean my mother?’
The cat hissed, his fur rising. Fenrir panted, his breath wet and warm on the back of Whetstone’s neck. Ignoring the wolf, Whetstone fixed his eyes on Hod and Vali as they approached Hel.
The Hel’s Belles in the pyramid disassembled and reformed as some kind of supernatural conveyor belt, passing Hel from hand to hand until she landed on the ground in front of Vali and Hod. A couple of the cheerleaders grabbed Hod’s arms, and a third frisked him, turning out his pockets. Hod cringed away from their touch.
Hel’s voice echoed across the dry field. ‘Well, where is it?’
Vali crossed his arms. ‘You don’t even know what you’re looking for.’
‘I know that he has it, and that Daddy wants it.’
Just as Vali opened his mouth to retort, the music suddenly surged in volume. Piercing notes rang out, filling the huge field. The music fell into Whetstone’s ears like drops of pure gold. Vali and Hel stared at each other dumbstruck. Fenrir paused in the act of closing his jaws around Whetstone’s head.
‘What was that?’ Hel hissed.
Heart hammering, Whetstone ducked away from the slobbering wolf. He shoved his hand into his pocket as the sound rang out again. The necklace in its leather pouch pulsated in his hand. Whetstone untied the leather cords holding the pouch closed and a bright light shone out. Carefully, he tipped the necklace into his palm, all thoughts of the shield, Lotta and the danger they were in, gone. Between the coloured beads and ornaments, the thread that held the necklace together was glowing.
Whetstone lifted it up. The note rang out again. The light coming from the string grew until it was so bright Whetstone had to look away. The note rang out again and again, high and insistent.
‘It’s the harp string,’ Whetstone whispered, ignoring Fenrir’s movements behind him. ‘But that must mean . . .’ He turned back to look at Hod, who gave him a sad-eyed smile. ‘Dad?’
Hel strode forward. ‘That! That’s what I’m looking for.’ She held out a skeleton hand. ‘Give it to me.’
Whetstone’s hand instinctively closed over the necklace. ‘No!’
‘No?’ Hel’s eyes narrowed. ‘I guess I’ll just have to take it, then.’ Hel gestured towards Whetstone and the troupe of cheerleaders started to march towards him, their fingers flexing.
Whetstone backed away, the cat yowling as he was nearly stepped on. A shout came from behind. Wide-eyed, Whetstone spun round to face Fenrir, who was now staring at something near his tail. The wolf growled, the sound mixing with the persistent melody from the harp string.
Whetstone’s stomach dropped. Lotta. Too late, he leaped forward, waving his arms to try to attract Fenrir’s attention. The wolf ignored him, snapping down at something by his back leg.
In a flash of armour, Lotta was flung across the field. She landed with a crunch beside the Helhest cheerleaders. With a bark, Fenrir leaped after the fallen Valkyrie, knocking Whetstone on to the dusty ground.
‘No!’ Whetstone set off at a run, leaving the cat behind. His breath came in painful gasps, fear beating in his chest. If anything had happened to Lotta, it would be all his fault. He’d got distracted. He’d left her to get the shield by herself. Whetstone sprinted forward as Vali knelt beside Lotta. She didn’t move.
Fenrir landed in front of Lotta and Vali. But to Whetstone’s surprise, instead of swallowing them both in one enormous bite, the wolf wagged his tail and rolled over, showing his shaggy belly to the sky. Vali emerged from Fenrir’s fur, giving Fenrir the world’s biggest tummy rub. The wolf’s back leg thrashed energetically, sending Hel’s troupe of cheerleaders flying.
‘Good boy, Fenrir,’ Vali was saying as Whetstone skidded to a halt beside Lotta. ‘You’re a good boy.’
Whetstone dropped to his knees. A heavy weight settled in his stomach. The music faded, but the harp string still sparkled.
Lotta’s eyes snapped open. Whetstone’s heart lifted.
‘Did you get it?’ she murmured woozily.
‘Get . . . it?’ Whetstone’s heart dropped back down like a stone.
Lotta pushed herself into a sitting position as Fenrir wiggled on his back, sending up clouds of dust. ‘My shield, dummy! Where is it?’
Hel emerged through the dust storm. She placed one boot on Lotta’s breastplate and shoved the Valkyrie back into the dirt. Lotta pushed ineffectively at Hel’s foot. ‘Get off me!’
Hel ignored her. Instead she focused on Whetstone, who gazed up at her, the scent of decay filling his nose. ‘Do you want to tell her or shall I?’
‘Pass me my shield.’ Lotta’s fumbling fingers reached for Whetstone. ‘You’re going to regret standing on me when I get my powers back, Hel!’
Hel gave a raspy giggle. Fenrir rolled over and sat up, shaking dust out of his shaggy coat.
Lotta’s brown eyes followed as two of the Hel’s Belles backflipped across the field to where the wolf had been sitting. The shield lay abandoned on the ground. ‘No!’ Lotta clawed at Hel’s leg.
Whetstone scrambled to his feet. ‘Give it back to her!’
‘The shield is mine. I won it fair and square.’ Hel snorted. ‘Now give me the glowing string.’
‘What is she talking about?’ Lotta panted.
Whetstone showed her his hand. The harp string thrummed, glowing gently.
Lotta goggled. ‘The necklace is the harp string?’
Hel reached out to wrench the string from Whetstone’s hand. The boy lunged out of the way. He snatched up Lotta’s sword, which was lying abandoned at her side, and got to his feet. Wrapping the string around the rusty blade, he threatened, ‘I’ll cut it – it’ll be useless then!’
Hel stopped; her eyes narrowed. ‘Cut the string and I’ll do the same to your father.’ The Hel’s Belles tightened their grip on Hod.
Whetstone’s eyes flicked from the glowing harp string to the man standing behind Hel. If Hel got her hands on the harp string, she would pass it to Loki in a heartbeat. But . . . Hod was his dad. He’d waited his whole life for this moment! For the chance to find his parents and have a family. Sweat prickled across his back. Could he really give up the opportunity to get to know his father, even to keep the harp string from Loki? The sword shook in his hand.
‘Being a Hero is all about tough choices,’ Hel continued. ‘So I’ll make it easier for you.’ She pressed down on Lotta’s breastplate, making the Valkyrie gasp. ‘I’ll throw the girl in for free. There’s not much power left in her, anyway. She’ll be a useless human by tomorrow.’
Whetstone tightened his grip on the sword, the string glowing against the dull blade.
‘Is that string really worth more than your father and your friend?’ Lotta thrashed on the ground, sending up more dust.
‘Don’t do it,’ Hod called out. ‘It’s got strange magic—’ One of the Hel’s Belles clamped her hand over his mouth.
‘You might as well get something out of this mess, Whetstone. I’m going to take the string one way or another,’ Hel purred.
Whetstone bowed his head, his shoulders slumping. The harp string? Or Lotta and his dad? Surely Lotta was better off an alive human than a dead Valkyrie? She would understand. Hesitantly he lowered the sword and held out the necklace.
Hel snatched it out of his hand, triumph gleaming in her eyes. ‘YES!’ She removed her boot from Lotta’s chest.
The Valkyrie rolled on to her hands and knees. ‘What are you doing?’ she wheezed. ‘Have you gone mad?’
The Hel’s Belles released Hod. They cheered and whooped, shaking their pom-poms.
; ‘You had to mess it up for all of us, didn’t you?’ Vali glared at Whetstone. ‘You wanted to know why I came here? Father never visits Helheim – I should’ve been safe.’ With shaking hands, Vali brushed the dust and dog hair from his clothes. ‘But, thanks to you, he’s coming.’ Without another word, the stone boy turned and started the long walk back to the hall, followed by Fenrir.
‘I’m looking forward to hearing the full riddle, Lotta. Although –’ Hel waved the harp string – ‘I’ve figured out the most important bits already.’
Lotta’s fingers clenched into fists.
Hel fixed her eyes on the boy. ‘I’m a better Hero than you, Whetstone. You didn’t get the shield, and you missed that my bridge keeper was your long-lost father.’ Hel formed her hands into Ls. ‘You’re no match for Team Loki.’
Whetstone ground his teeth.
The Helhest formed into a crooked horse and boosted Hel into the saddle. ‘I can’t wait to let Daddy know what I’ve done. He’ll be so proud of me,’ Hel preened. ‘I’m sure he’ll come straight here to see for himself.’
Whetstone swallowed the sour taste in his mouth.
‘You’ve lost. Come back to my hall when you’re ready. It’s not as if it’s possible to escape Helheim.’ Laughing, Hel headed back to the Great Hall, the Helhest carrying the shield triumphantly after her.
Lotta glared at Whetstone. A Category Three Valkyrie Death Stare. Whetstone took a step back. Her eyes were tiny slits in her face. ‘What. Did. You. Think. You. Were. Doing?’ she hissed.
‘Well, I—’
‘You. Didn’t. Stick. To. The. Plan.’
‘No, I—’
‘The only thing I asked of you.’ She poked him in the chest.
‘I’m sorry. I was distracted—’
‘You were supposed to be distracting Fenrir!’
‘It was the necklace,’ Whetstone explained. ‘Hod—’
‘Oh yes – I saw you had enough time for a little chat with him.’ Lotta pointed a wavering finger at Hod.
‘Come on,’ Hod began. ‘That’s not fair.’
Lotta’s glare ramped up to a Category Four. ‘Now look what you’ve done! Loki is coming, Hel still has my shield, you gave her the harp string and I’m trapped in Helheim with almost no powers and no way HOME!’
Whetstone glared back at her. ‘This is not all about you! Will you stop going on about your stupid shield? It’s not my fault you lost it. And your brilliant plan was rubbish! That’s why it failed!’
‘I think we should all calm down—’ Hod began.
‘Have you forgotten you offered Hel the riddle?’ Whetstone continued, jabbing a finger at Lotta. ‘You just told her you knew it! If Loki gets hold of the harp strings, there won’t be an Asgard to go back to! Or a Midgard, or a Helheim. Hel will be able to go wherever she likes and bring all her monsters with her!’
‘I told you I had that sorted,’ Lotta sniffed. ‘I just needed my shield, then I could’ve transformed and got us all out of here and got Scold to come back. But no – you had to muck it all up because you couldn’t concentrate!’
‘I thought you were DEAD!’ Whetstone spluttered. ‘Fenrir threw you across the field!’
‘I’m a VALKYRIE! Well . . . I was. If I had all my powers, I would have hardly felt that.’ The cat wound itself around her ankles. Lotta wobbled again. Whetstone reached out to take her arm. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she snapped, twisting away. The cat gave Whetstone a very judgemental look. ‘Odin was wrong about you – you’re not a Hero. A Hero wouldn’t be so SELFISH! Achoo!’
‘Don’t pretend you care about the quest and the harp strings,’ Whetstone snapped back. ‘Ever since Freyja told you that your shield was in Helheim, that’s all you’ve been thinking about.’
‘At least I tried to help you. I saved you from Loki. I got you to Helheim—’
‘You were more worried about that stupid cat! You say I’m selfish, but the only reason you’ve ever helped me is because you’re worried about getting kicked out of Asgard for being a terrible Valkyrie!’
‘I may not be the best Valkyrie, but I’m a better Hero than you’ll ever be.’ Lotta snatched the cat to her chest and turned on her heel.
‘Fine, go! I don’t need you!’ Whetstone’s hands balled into fists.
‘I don’t need you either.’
‘Good!’
‘Good!’ Lotta stuck her drippy nose into the air and stomped away.
Whetstone watched her vanish into the settling dust. ‘She chose to come back and help me,’ he muttered, painfully aware that his father had heard everything. ‘I never asked her to come.’ But you wanted her to, a little voice in his head reminded him.
Chapter Fifteen
Unhappy Families
Whetstone and Hod stood alone in the dusty field. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. Back at the bridge,’ Hod began. ‘I realized who you were when that girl said your name.’ His beard twitched into a smile. ‘Is she really a Valkyrie?’
Whetstone nodded and crossed his arms. He didn’t want to think about Lotta. Hot and uncomfortable emotions bubbled inside him. It wasn’t his fault Lotta hadn’t got her shield. He had distracted Fenrir like she’d told him to. She should’ve tried harder.
‘I never thought I would see you again.’ Hod put his hand on Whetstone’s shoulder, jolting him back into the present. ‘The last glimpse I had of you was at the house by the lake.’
Whetstone’s chest throbbed. Anger and embarrassment transforming into a hard lump of sorrow.
Hod peered into Whetstone’s face. ‘How is your mother?’
The lump swelled up to fill Whetstone’s chest and made it hard to speak. He stared down at his boots.
Hod squeezed his shoulder. ‘The strings took her too?’
Whetstone nodded.
‘What about you?’
Whetstone forced back memories of his life with the Angry Bogey and her foster home for abandoned wolf cubs. Loki had taken him there after his parents disappeared so she could keep an eye on him. The Angry Bogey had always told Whetstone that he couldn’t miss what he’d never had, but he did. He missed every day that had been stolen from him with his family. ‘I stayed.’
Hod nodded. ‘How long—?’
‘Twelve years.’
‘That’s a long time.’
Whetstone swallowed with difficulty. ‘What was it like,’ he asked, not looking up. ‘When we were all together?’
Hod’s beard twitched into a smile. ‘The house always used to smell of pinecones. Your mother used to save them up. On bad days she would put them on the fire. She liked that.’
Whetstone nodded, his vision blurring. He blinked his tears away.
‘There are no pinecones here,’ Hod murmured. ‘And lots of bad days. Sometimes I wondered if I’d made the whole thing up.’ He looked at Whetstone. ‘But we’re together again now. Come back with me to the bridge. It’s not so bad there. You can smell the spring sometimes.’ He grinned. ‘Hey – when spring comes, I get so excited that I wet my plants, but at least I don’t soil them!’
Whetstone lifted his head. ‘Wait, you want us to stay here?’
Hod shrugged. ‘Hel’s right. No one leaves the Land of Lost Things.’
The lump of sorrow in Whetstone’s chest cracked. Anger and disappointment poured through him until he felt as if he might burst. ‘This can’t be it! Everything I’ve done, everything I’m supposed to do . . . just to be stuck here forever.’ He glared at his father, his face screwing up. ‘You’re my dad – you’re supposed to make things better. Have you ever even tried to escape?’
‘Of course I have,’ the man snapped. ‘But sometimes you have to accept the fact that you cannot change things, no matter how much you want to. I’m not a Hero, or a God. I was a fisherman. If you want someone to bait a line, I’m your man. If you want someone to rescue you from the Land of Lost Things, I can’t help you.’
Hod took a deep breath, then spoke in a quieter voice. ‘Do you know
how many times I’ve wished I could change things? Go back and not pull those strings out of my fishing net?’ He let out a hollow laugh. ‘I thought I was so lucky to find them. We didn’t have much, you know.’
Whetstone’s anger began to drain away, leaving him cold and hollow inside. He closed his eyes, remembering the vision Loki had shown him of how his father had found the strings.
‘There were three strings,’ Hod continued softly. ‘Caught round a falcon in my fishing net. How it got there I’ll never know, a bird like that.’
Whetstone swallowed.
‘I knew the strings were special. As fine as anything I had ever seen. Not even the local Chief’s wife had anything like it.’ Hod smiled at the memory. ‘Your mother was so pleased when I showed them to her. We would have traded them eventually, but we decided that for that one night we were going to have one each and imagine ourselves fine lords and ladies. I gave one to you –’ he nodded at Whetstone – ‘one to your mother and kept the third for myself.’
Whetstone squeezed his hands into fists.
‘But then they started to glow, like that one did back there with Fenrir. And all I could see was the light, and I felt like I was falling.’
Whetstone opened his eyes.
Hod shrugged. ‘I woke up here in the snow, and I’ve been here ever since.’
‘Loki was the falcon,’ Whetstone said around the lump in his throat.
‘Loki?’
Whetstone nodded. ‘He stole a magic harp from the Dwarves. Those are the harp strings. The Dwarves cursed the strings to stop Loki using them by sending them into separate worlds . . . Because we were holding them, we were cursed too.’ Whetstone rubbed his cheek. ‘I don’t know what happened to my harp string. I guess Loki must’ve hidden it somewhere. Now he’s using me to find the other two.’
‘And Odin wants you to stop Loki?’ Hod said in amazement. ‘The Valkyrie said that you were a Hero. My son, a Hero!’ He grinned. ‘Hey, if you can be a Hero, maybe there’s some hope for me.’
Whetstone shoved his hands in his pockets, embarrassment washing over him. Lotta was right: some Hero he was turning out to be.
