Sif and the Dwarfs' Treasures

by Joan Holub

  Idun added, “Yeah, I saw him wearing it earlier when I went looking for you guys in the library today. Gullveig said Mimir thinks it makes him look handsome.”

  Skade rolled her eyes. “If you ask me, his famed wisdom has failed him this time. Though I’d never tell him that.”

  Sif squinted at the clownish golden toupee a little harder. There was something so . . . familiar about it. Suddenly she did a double take. “Hey! He made that toupee from my hair! My old hair, I mean.”

  Her podmates stared at her in surprise. “It is the same color,” Freya agreed slowly.

  “But how did he get your—” Skade started to ask.

  “I put my cutoff hair in a box and tossed it in a library trash can,” Sif admitted before Skade could finish. “I didn’t know what else to do with it, and its magic was gone.”

  “Well, Mimir seems to have recycled it,” Freya said drily.

  Sif glanced at the head librarian’s toupee again. It looked so silly that she couldn’t help giggling. “You’re right.”

  “I bet Odin would be pleased if he knew that Mimir found a new use for your hair,” said Freya. “He’s been encouraging us to take care of the environment, after all. Finding new uses for stuff that would otherwise hit the trash is good for the World Tree!”

  As if he’d heard them, Odin pivoted on his throne toward the four Thunder Girls. Fixing them with his good eye, he gave them a nod. A little surprised, the girlgoddesses still managed to nod back. He really did seem to know everything that went on around here. Sif had a feeling he knew and approved of her hair getting recycled!

  Minutes later a hush stole over the hall as Hugin and Munin flew in with Loki, Brokk, and their bags. Thunk! Thunk! The birds deposited their heavy loads in front of the coprincipals. Then, uttering Caw! Caw! the tired-looking ravens flew to Odin.

  Mere seconds after they landed on his broad shoulders, a large object came hurtling through the air toward the front of the room. The hammer! Loki and Brokk barely had enough time to leap aside before it crashed onto the wooden floor in front of the thrones in the very place they’d just been standing, splintering the wood around it.

  Odin laughed heartily. “Nothing much catches me by surprise, but that sure did!”

  “Sorry,” Brokk said, bobbing his head up and down. “My brother, Sindri, magicked it here because it was too heavy to pack in my bag.”

  Almost immediately students began to gather around the hammer, trying to lift it. One by one they failed.

  “No harm done,” roared Odin. “Except to the floor, of course. But that can be repaired.” He paused for a moment as the raven on his right shoulder whispered something into his ear. “Yes, Hugin. You’re quite right. It is time for the judging to begin.” The one-eyed principal rubbed his hands together, his gaze on the bags that Loki and Brokk held. “Okay, then. Who would like to go first?”

  “Me!” Loki shouted. At once he began to brag about his visit to Darkalfheim and how he was able to use his cunning to secure “not one, not two, not three, but six gifts!” Loki could be charming, and his boasting seemed to amuse Odin. The principal’s good eye twinkled as he smiled at the boygod.

  Sif’s friends, however, were less entertained. “How dare Loki take credit for your idea,” Freya said to Sif indignantly.

  Skade cupped her hands around her mouth. “The six gifts were Sif’s idea, remember, Loki?” she called out. “That’s how many she told you to bring back!”

  Perhaps emboldened by Skade, Brokk poked a finger to Loki’s chest and said scornfully, “Brag all you want now, boygod. But soon that clever tongue of yours won’t be wagging.” He made a slashing motion across his throat. “Just thinking ahead to winning our bet!”

  A murmur of confusion ran through the gleaming hall. Still, Loki looked cocky and unconcerned as he informed the crowd, “We made a bet about which set of gifts Odin will judge the finest! If Brokk and Sindri’s gifts are judged superior to those made by Ivaldi’s sons, I lose. And my head will roll!” he shouted out. “Literally!”

  As his meaning sunk in, horrified gasps swept the crowd. Sure, Loki could be really annoying, but no one wanted to see him headless! The students quieted as the boygod opened the large bag he’d brought and took out the three gifts Ivaldi’s sons had crafted.

  Zing! Immediately the spear flew to Odin’s hand. Loki grinned. “It seems the spear knows it was intended for you, Principal Odin,” he said, turning toward Odin’s throne. “Unlike other spears, it never misses its target.”

  Odin raised the spear and then sighted along its straight and true shaft. Nodding approvingly, he said, “Nicely done. I will call it Gungnir. It should serve me well in battle.”

  Next, Loki slipped the magical ship from its pouch and held it high for all to see. “When unfolded and set in the sea, this ship will grow big enough to hold an entire army. And as soon as its sail is hoisted, a wind will immediately fill it and blow the ship straight to its destination.” As the crowd oohed and aahed, he added, “And once it has arrived at its destination, it can be folded back up and replaced in its pouch until the next time it’s needed.”

  “Who’s it for?” a boy demanded.

  Abruptly the ship lifted from Loki. Rocking back and forth as if tossed by invisible waves, it skimmed a few feet over the heads of the crowd. Then it dropped down and landed on the head of Frey.

  Though there were disappointed murmurs from others who’d been hoping that the ship would be theirs, the crowd cheered for the well-liked boygod. Especially Freya, of course!

  “I will name it Skidbladnir!” Frey announced, looking thrilled.

  “My third gift,” Loki said at last, “is the one I owe Sif.” When she came forward to claim the metallic hair he held out to her, Loki looked sincere (for once) as he whispered, “Hope this makes up for what I did.”

  Though it wasn’t an actual apology, Sif supposed it was the closest Loki could come to one, given his nature.

  “Thanks,” she whispered back. For a few seconds she fingered the golden hair. She was amazed at how fine its metallic strands were, so like her real hair had been, but with a golden gleam that was much brighter. As everyone watched, she placed the golden gift directly on top of her shorn locks.

  The magic it was imbued with immediately took effect. Sif’s eyes closed and her heart filled with joy as she felt the new hair binding seamlessly with her remaining stubble. And as it did so, she felt a sense of well-being and strength sweep over her. Which could only mean that her goddess powers had returned! Just to be sure, she opened her eyes and performed a quick test, shape-shifting into a swan. Score! It worked! The crowd erupted into applause as she rose to the ceiling and flew once around the room. What a wonderful feeling!

  After retaking her girlgoddess form, Sif went to stand with her podmates. She hoped with all her heart that this restoration of her hair—and the powers that resided in it—hadn’t come too late. If her new hair’s powers were able to reverse the damage to the wheat crops in Midgard, there might yet be a good harvest. Especially if the giants who’d previously been stealing Midgard’s wheat could be kept out of those fields from now on. Hmm. She eyed the hammer that still lay on the floor, knowing it could help with that effort. Who would it choose? Maybe her? Or one of the other Thunder Girls?

  “My turn now,” Brokk said gruffly. After respectfully dipping his orange-fringed bald head in Odin and Ms. Frigg’s direction, he opened his bag and took out one of the three gifts that he and Sindri had crafted.

  “It may look simple, but it’s not,” he said as he held up the golden arm-ring. “Every nine days eight more gold rings just like the first will drop from it.”

  As his words died away, the bracelet flew to Odin. Looking pleased at receiving a second gift, Odin proclaimed that he would name the handsome gold bracelet Draupnir and slipped it over his arm.

  Sif shifted her gaze to Loki. He had moved to a seat a short distance away on the platform that held Odin’s and Ms. Frigg’s thrones.
He was frowning, she noticed. He had to be worried that Odin might favor Draupnir the bracelet over Gungnir the spear.

  Next, Brokk drew out the golden boar. “I already named him Gullinbursti. He can race faster than a horse and be ridden over land and sea and through the air. And since his bristles shine like the sun, nighttime riding is easy!”

  Sighs of admiration and amazement swept the room. “Who’s he for?” someone shouted out. It was a girl’s voice this time.

  Suddenly the boar made a grunting noise and shot through the crowd, which had no choice but to part for him. The boar stopped before Frey and nosed his hand. Seemed he’d gotten a second gift too!

  “Why should Frey get two gifts?” Loki grumbled. Sif wondered if he’d hoped that one of the gifts would be for him. He didn’t complain about Odin getting two gifts, though. Who would dare? She saw the dwarf send Loki a sly glance, seeming glad he was annoyed.

  Before Brokk could present his final gift, the hammer that still lay on the splintered floor, there was a commotion at the back of the room near the door. “Did we miss the judging?” Thor’s voice boomed out as he and Heimdall strode into Gladsheim.

  “Come!” Odin urged them. “You’re just in time!” As Thor and the ten-foot-tall security guard made their way to the front of the room, Hugin and Munin left Odin’s shoulders. The ravens flew over the top of the crowd before disappearing out the door that Thor and Heimdall had entered.

  Sif barely had time to wonder where the birds were off to before Thor blurted out a report. “The giants are lurking on the second world ring, but no attacks anywhere yet!”

  At this Odin began to explain to the crowd that Thor and Heimdall were late because he’d asked them to check on the protective border wall around Asgard. “Just wanted to make sure the frost giants weren’t in a position to attack while we were all occupied here.”

  “What’s this about?” Thor exclaimed when he reached the front of the room and saw the hammer on top of the splintered floor. Various boygods and girlgoddesses were still trying to pick it up. So far it hadn’t budged, despite dozens of student attempts.

  Odin smiled. Then, as he sometimes did, he waxed poetic.

  “A trifling accident.

  Nothing more.

  The hammer landed

  On the . . .”

  He paused, apparently unable to dredge up the right word.

  Ms. Frigg looked up from her knitting. “Floor?” she supplied.

  “Yes! That’s the word I was looking for!” Odin agreed. His good eye was twinkling as he turned toward Brokk. “Does that hammer already have a name?”

  Brokk dipped his head at Odin. “It’s called Mjollnir.”

  “Mjollnir,” Sif echoed quietly.

  Freya leaned over and whispered, “Your runeword? That’s a coincidence. Or maybe not?”

  “Maybe not,” Sif whispered back. She was half hoping the hammer would suddenly fly into her hands and claim her as its owner, but it didn’t.

  She watched Thor scratch his head. “Mjollnir? I’ve heard that name before,” he said, sounding puzzled. Of course he had! She’d told him it was her runeword from class! “It’s kind of in the way,” he noted after a light-elf tripped over it. Bending low, he took hold of Mjollnir’s short handle and easily swung the hammer up.

  The crowd gasped as he then turned Mjollnir over and over in his big hands, examining it as if it were as light as a snowflake. Finally looking up, he noticed everyone’s surprised faces. “What’s the big deal?” he asked in confusion.

  “It has chosen you,” Brokk announced. “The gift, I mean.”

  Thor looked surprised. He tossed up the hammer end over end, then caught it again in one hand like it was nothing. “Okay. It’s cool. But why is its handle so short?”

  “Yes, why is that?” Loki asked Brokk, looking smug.

  “No big deal. It’s a small flaw,” the dwarf said dismissively. He pinched the tip of his thumb and forefinger together to indicate just how small. With a nod toward Thor, Brokk said, “Despite the short handle, with this boygod’s strength behind the hammer, it will be a huge help in guarding Asgard Academy against giants.”

  “An idle boast,” Loki insisted hotly. “That hammer is obviously defective!”

  Odin glanced over at Loki and frowned. Then he looked back at Brokk. “Tell me more about this hammer.”

  “Gladly,” said Brokk. “Mjollnir is unbreakable. And no matter how far it is thrown, it will always return to its owner’s hand.”

  Overhearing this claim, Thor tossed Mjollnir up to the ceiling. He’d misjudged his strength, however. The hammer tore through the ceiling’s timbers and out through the roof. “Whoops,” he said.

  Lots of kids cracked up, including Loki. “Gladsheim just got a skylight,” someone observed. Odin grinned, looking unperturbed by the damage.

  Minutes passed. The hammer didn’t return.

  “Thanks, idiot. Looks like I win the bet,” Loki said to Brokk. He had barely uttered those words when the hammer zoomed back to Thor’s hand.

  “Awesome!” Thor called out as he easily caught it. Then he began tossing it between his hands like a hot potato. “Ymir’s beard! This thing gets red hot when it’s thrown!”

  “There’s one more thing you should know about Mjollnir,” Brokk informed him. “If you ever need to hide it or carry it, it can magically shrink small enough to tuck inside your tunic pocket.”

  The already awestruck crowd murmured in wonder at what Mjollnir would be able to accomplish when wielded by the superstrong Thor. Loki didn’t look at all thrilled to see him wind up with such a great gift, though.

  “I should’ve guessed the hammer was meant for Thor,” Sif whispered to Freya, who nodded back. He was, after all, the only one at the academy strong enough to handle it! “It’s really a gift for all of Asgard!” Sif called out while looking at Loki. “A gift of protection against those who mean our worlds harm, and maybe even against Ragnarok in the future!”

  “Whatever,” Loki replied sullenly. Obviously, he wasn’t convinced. Though Sif had kind of hoped the mighty hammer might’ve been intended for her or one of the other Thunder Girls, she had to admit that Thor’s hands were the right hands for Mjollnir.

  A hush fell over the room as Odin stood up from his throne. Everyone wondered what his verdict regarding the winner would be. Which gifts would he judge best?

  “I foresee that what this dwarf says about Mjollnir’s attributes is true,” he told the crowd. “And therefore, as wonderful as all these other treasures are, I judge Thor’s hammer as the most valuable.” With an apologetic glance in Loki’s direction, he pronounced his judgment. “I declare Brokk to be the winner of the bet.” With that, Odin plopped back down on his throne.

  Brokk was beaming. “Then I lay claim to my prize—Loki’s head !”

  “Uh-oh,” Sif whispered to Freya.

  Choruses of “Oh no” filled the hall. Though most everyone likely thought it served Loki right to see the tables turned on him, no one wanted him to lose his head! At the same time, there was some laughter from a few who must’ve thought that Brokk couldn’t be serious. She and Freya, however, knew that he was.

  And so did Loki. His face went pale. “My head is of no use if it’s not on my body,” he protested.

  “No worries,” Odin said merrily. “Mimir manages fine. I can make sure you do too.”

  “Yeah, Loki,” Mimir called out from his perch atop the fountain. “Once you wrap your head around the idea of being a no-body, it’s great!”

  “Hey, Loki,” Thor boomed. “Just a heads-up that I’d like those yellow shoes of yours, since it’s starting to look like you aren’t going to need them anymore.”

  Loki’s face turned red with anger and embarrassment. It looked like his head was going to explode before Brokk could even try to claim it. In typical Loki fashion, he tried to bargain with the dwarf. “How about if I give you its weight in gold, instead?”

  “Ha!” Brokk replied, taking a
determined step in his direction. “Why would I need your gold? Darkalfheim is rich in metals. I can get all the gold I want, whenever I want it.”

  Loki nodded his head slowly. Possibly for the last time? wondered Sif. “Well, then,” he said at last. “I think maybe . . . I’ll be off!” With that, he tried to race from the hall in his magic yellow shoes . . . only to find Thor, who could move surprisingly fast given how big he was, blocking the door.

  While holding Mjollnir in one hand, Thor gripped Loki firmly with the other to keep him from shape-shifting his way out of this situation. “Seems to me you brought this down on your own head,” he said as he marched Loki over to Brokk.

  Now that she had new hair and her goddess powers were back, Sif was feeling generous. And sorry for Loki, too. She really didn’t want to see him lose his head! But as it turned out, she needn’t have worried.

  “Hold on a minute.” Loki backed away as Brokk unsheathed a wicked-looking knife that he’d taken from under his belt. A spark had come into the boygod’s eyes, and it wasn’t a spark of fear. A spark like that could mean only one thing, Sif thought. Loki had just come up with something clever!

  Sure enough, he puffed out his chest and looked around at the assembled crowd to make sure they were watching him. “It’s true that you are entitled to my head, Brokk,” he said in a loud, theatrical voice.

  “Glad you admit that,” Brokk replied. He ran a finger lightly down his knife’s blade, as if to test its sharpness. “Now if you’ll come closer, I’ll—”

  “Here’s the thing,” said Loki. “Though I promised you my head, I didn’t say you could have my ears or my nose or my eyeballs or my hair or my eyebrows or my neck.”

  “He’s right!” Mimir piped up.

  “B-but a head is no good without all that other stuff,” Brokk argued with Loki. “It wouldn’t make a good decoration at all!”

  “Eww!” cried many students upon picturing the image his words called up. Many others were grinning or cracking up, though.

  Odin, who had always had a special fondness for Loki despite his troublesome nature, guffawed and slapped his knee. “He’s got you there, dwarf!” he called out to Brokk.