by Joan Holub
Realizing that Loki had truly outwitted the bloodthirsty dwarf, the crowd roared with laughter. Sif and her podmates joined in.
Loki grinned at Odin and then at his now-admiring audience. He even went so far as to take a bow.
Though he sheathed his knife, Brokk was too angry at losing his prize on a technicality to let the matter end there. “Well, since you didn’t mention your clever mouth in your list,” the dwarf told him, “at least I can shut it for a while. I’m sure everyone at Asgard Academy will appreciate that!” Quickly he chanted a spell:
“For one whole day
You’ll zip your lip.
Nothing will you say.
Nothing will you sip.”
A look of alarm came over Loki’s face as he tried and tried to open his lips, but to no avail. It was as if they were glued shut.
“Now that’s what I call being tight-lipped,” Thor quipped, looking pleased at how things were turning out.
Odin leaned forward on his throne. If Loki had expected the principal to come to his rescue this time, he was sadly mistaken. Instead the principal fixed Loki with a steely gaze. Speaking sternly, he said, “In the future you will take more time to consider your actions”—and here he paused for a second and flicked Sif a look—“and think about who your true friends are.”
Sif thought about Odin’s words. By “actions” he seemed to be referring to Loki’s cutting off her hair, plus tricks he’d played on various other students in the past. And maybe even Loki’s rash bet with Brokk.
But Odin had also implied that Loki didn’t know who his “true friends” were. And that seemed to suggest Loki had false friends. Enemy giants perhaps, as many students suspected? If so, however, why had Loki gotten her hair and the other five gifts for Asgard? It was all so confusing. On the other hand, maybe it was just as confusing to Loki, who was, after all, half-giant. Maybe he truly didn’t know whose side he was on!
As she was thinking all this over, caws rang out. With a flurry of flapping wings, Hugin and Munin appeared in the hall again. They soared over the heads of the crowd to land on Odin’s shoulders. Then one of them whispered something in his ear that made him smile.
Leaping to his feet, he looked out over the crowd and announced, “You’ll be pleased to know that with the restoration of Sif’s hair, the wheat in Midgard grows tall and strong once more!”
All over the room cheers rang out. The four Thunder Girls hugged one another and hopped around with joy. So that was where Odin’s ravens had gone, Sif realized. He must have sent them to check on the fields! Though relieved at his announcement, she was determined to go see for herself that the wheat crop was fine. But after such an eventful day she was bone-tired. The journey could wait till tomorrow morning.
Now that the show was over, the crowd began to shuffle out of Gladsheim Hall. As punishments went, Loki’s zipped lips seemed like a fair one, Sif thought as she and her podmates made their way toward the door. Still, despite Odin’s rebuke of the boygod’s actions, she rather doubted that Loki would actually learn anything from it. She didn’t need runes or a prophetic dream to predict that he’d be up to his usual tricks as soon as Brokk’s spell wore off.
11
Lofn
WATCH THIS,” SIF TOLD SKADE, Freya, and Idun.
It was the next morning, and Sif stood in the middle of their podroom in Vingolf with the other three girlgoddesses gathered around her. While her podmates had slept in, she’d been experimenting with her new hair since the crack of dawn. She was excited to share what she’d discovered while practicing in front of a mirror, now that the others were finally awake.
“Curly,” she instructed her metallic golden hair as she gave it a tap with her comb. Her friends gasped in delight as her hair magically corkscrewed itself into dozens of kinky coils upon command. “Not curly,” she instructed, and it quickly went straight again.
“It can do other styles too,” she told her podmates, before commanding her hair to weave itself into two, and then ten, braids. To amuse the others further, she made up some silly styles. “Rabbit ears,” she ordered. Then, “Side buns.” And finally, “Thunderbolt!”
The other three Thunder Girls cracked up as Sif’s hair rose to form a jagged golden bolt atop her head. Skade was laughing so hard, she wound up rolling around down on the floor!
Sif just smiled. She loved that her new hair was not only super shiny and pretty, but also more magical than ever! Show over now, she returned her hair to the simple style she preferred—a ponytail.
“I know you guys are probably starving, but do you think we could go to Midgard before breakfast?” she asked her friends once they’d calmed down. “I’m really anxious to see for myself that the wheat fields are healthy again.”
“Yes! Let’s go!” the other girls chorused. Since everyone was on board with the idea, they soon headed for the Bifrost Bridge. It was such a beautiful, sunshiny (though cold) day that they decided to walk to Midgard rather than fly in Freya’s cart.
“Where are you Thunder Girls off to this morning?” Heimdall greeted them when they came through the golden portal doors to start down the bridge. Dressed in his official-looking uniform, the super-tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular security guard could be quite intimidating when he needed to be. The enormous sword (aka hurt-stick) strapped to his side made him appear even more fearsome. Sif had been a little afraid of him when she’d first come to AA. But not anymore.
Heimdall stroked his long, pointy beard, frowning slightly as she explained that they were heading for Midgard to check on the wheat crop. “Watch out for trolls under the bridge. And lurking giants on the second ring,” he cautioned the girls sternly, before stepping aside so they could pass. At all times watchful and on the alert, he was actually kind of a worrywart. He probably wouldn’t have allowed any student to leave the safety of Asgard—ever—if it had been up to him.
“If we see any trolls, we’ll give ’em a good kick with our thunder boots,” joked Skade. She lifted her foot to show him that she was wearing her sturdiest and thickest-soled pair of hiking boots.
Heimdall grunted. But then, he was known for his sharp eyes and keen ears, not for his sense of humor.
In high spirits, the four girls clomped down the bridge, laughing and chatting. But as they drew closer to Midgard, they slowed their steps and grew quiet. Sif wondered if, like her, the others were also a little worried that all might not be well, despite what the ravens had told Odin last night.
Suddenly they came to a spot on the bridge that overlooked the Midgard fields. There they stood in awe, for spread out before them were great, gleaming fields of wheat. For miles around the grain stood tall and straight again, all signs of withering erased.
“Hooray!” Sif exclaimed, happily jumping around. The other girls punched fists in the air and whooped so loudly that their voices echoed into the valleys. As if in response to the thunderous, joyful sound, a breeze whipped across the fields right then, making the wheat ripple in such a way that it appeared to be waving to them in thanks.
“You’re welcome!” shouted Sif. At this they all giggled. After their joyous whoops subsided, they stood on the bridge for several long moments, surveying the golden fields and feeling happy. Then, with great gladness in their hearts, they turned and headed back toward the academy.
After just a few minutes, they came to the small off-ramp that led to the Midgard Mall. “Hey! We should stop at the mall. The boot sale is still going on!” Skade informed the others.
Her three podmates laughed. But then Sif said, “Well, why not?” So the four girlgoddesses thundered down the ramp and into an enormous, fancy wooden building. It was divided into many spacious and well-lit stalls that housed the various shops within. The girls were admiring the display in a boot shop window when another window display one stall over caught Sif’s eye. She ducked inside the shop, which was called Mighty Mitts and Knits, and made a quick purchase. Then she and Freya waited outside a snack shop called Sweet
Eats while Idun and Skade went inside to get scones for the trip home.
While she and Freya were waiting, Sif glanced at the other shoppers going by and was startled to find herself abruptly gazing into a familiar face among them. A girl with short-cropped black hair. Lofn! Both girls instantly looked away without speaking.
“Of all people,” murmured Sif. Lofn, her former BFF, had appeared just as upset and startled to see her.
“What’s wrong?” asked Freya.
Frustration rose in Sif as she glanced over at Lofn again and saw her scurry toward the mall’s exit door. Pointing her out to Freya, Sif blurted out, “See that girl? Her name’s Lofn, and, well, we used to be friends.”
“Used to be?” Freya asked as the girl disappeared through the door.
“Back in our village in elementary school,” said Sif. “Second grade.”
“So what happened to change things?” Freya asked.
Sif hesitated for a few moments, but then, overcoming her reluctance to talk about it, she plunged ahead with her story in a rush. “Speaking up in class was always scary for Lofn. She never asked questions or volunteered answers.” After a slight pause, she added, “I had my own difficulties, though. Reading was hard for me. Still is, actually.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Skade. She and Idun had come out with scones and had overheard. As the girls left the mall, Idun handed out the scones. Sif didn’t take one, however. She needed both hands to carry her Mighty Mitts and Knits bag. Plus, seeing Lofn had taken away her appetite.
The four girls went up the ramp to rejoin the Bifrost Bridge. As her podmates walked along munching their scones, Freya encouraged Sif to go on with her story. “So Lofn and I bonded over our problems,” Sif told them. “She helped me with my reading, and I spoke for her in class.”
Skade lifted an eyebrow. “And your teacher let you do that?”
Sif shrugged. “Most of the time. But then we were assigned this big oral report. And the teacher said it was an individual report. That we couldn’t do it together. Lofn was so worried about it that she got a stomachache the day before.”
“I know the feeling,” admitted shy Idun.
“I decided to use my prophetic abilities to help her,” Sif continued. “I was getting pretty good at rune writing by then and feeling a little too confident. So when Lofn went to see the school nurse, I found a soft piece of wood in the forest at recess and carved the rune symbols for the word bitr into it with a sharp rock.”
Skade interrupted Sif’s story to say, “Bitr as in ‘brave,’ right?”
Sif nodded. “Anyway, I dropped the rune-charm into Lofn’s schoolbag, hoping it would magically give her courage when it was time to deliver her report.”
“But something went wrong,” Freya guessed.
Feeling unsettled by memories, Sif sighed and shifted her bag from one hand to the other as they walked ever upward. They were nearing Asgard now. Farms and villages dotted the landscape below, and up above they were beginning to catch glimpses within Yggdrasil’s branches of the roofs of various halls.
“Lofn didn’t show up for school the next morning. She’d gotten really sick overnight, with a fever and a horrible rash. Luckily, her doctor was also a master of runes. Right away he suspected magic as the cause of her illness. So he searched and found the rune-charm I’d put into Lofn’s bag.”
“So your charm made her sick?” Idun asked.
“Bingo. I’d made a huge mistake,” Sif admitted. “Instead of the word bitr, I mixed up my symbols and carved the word eitr.”
Her three podmates gasped. “Poison!” exclaimed Freya.
“Uh-huh,” said Sif, nodding. “After the doctor burned the charm, Lofn got better. Her parents wouldn’t let us hang out after that, though. They couldn’t forgive me. And the thing is, I’ve never forgiven myself either. Plus, Lofn won’t even look at me. She pretty much hates me, I think.”
“That’s so sad,” Idun said.
“Yeah, you only meant to help,” Skade said soothingly.
Freya reached over and gave Sif’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “Your heart was in the right place. Remember what Ms. Frigg is always saying, that prophecy is more an art than a science, with more opportunity for error.”
“But mistakes like the one I made with Lofn make being a seer feel like a big fat burden,” Sif said softly.
“I know what you mean,” Freya told her. “But seeing is a gift, and you’re good at it!”
Her kind words made Sif smile a little. Though things were still the same between Lofn and her, she felt surprisingly better for finally having gotten the Horrible Thing off her chest. These girls obviously liked her despite her failings. In fact, it led them to admit their own.
“Nobody’s perfect,” Skade said. “I can be a little messy, for instance.”
The others laughed. Rolling her eyes, Freya said in mock surprise, “No, really?”
“I can get a little apple-obsessed and forget promises or appointments,” said Idun.
They all looked at Freya, expecting her to admit some failing too. She looked around the group. “What? I’m perfect!” she exclaimed. Then she laughed. “Just kidding. Frey thinks I’m jewelry- and fashion-obsessed, but what’s not to like about those things?” She gestured toward the many necklaces she was wearing, as well as her stylish embroidered hangerock with its beautiful flower and leaf design. This cracked them all up again.
Sharing these things made Sif feel even closer to these girls. It was a feeling she liked a lot. Friendship itself was a gift, yet these girlgoddesses had just given her another gift. A renewed belief in herself as a seer. She would have to work harder than some to overcome her rune-reading difficulties, but maybe she could do it, with the support of her friends.
They’d reached the Asgard end of the bridge by now, and Heimdall stepped up to greet them. “All A-OK in the wheat fields?” he asked, looking at Sif.
“The crops are tops,” she answered with a smile.
At this, Heimdall gave her one of his rare grins, showing off blinding-gold teeth that matched the shine of the double doors. “Where to now, Thunder Girls?” he asked.
Skade looked around at the others. “Want to get breakfast at the V? I’m still hungry.”
Freya and Idun nodded in agreement.
“Me too,” said Sif. She hadn’t felt like eating before, but after unloading all that stuff from her past and talking about being a seer, she now felt lighter. And hungrier!
Pointing his hurt-stick toward the golden portal doors, Heimdall boomed out, “THUNDER ON, GIRLS!”
12
One Last Gift
AS SOON AS THE FOUR girlgoddesses entered the portal, they were whisked away. When they tumbled to a stop, they were only a short distance from the Valhallateria. Sif, Freya, Skade, and Idun were almost ready to head inside when Thor strode toward them from the direction of the border wall. Guard duty again, Sif supposed.
“Hey, Sif, wait up!” he called to her.
She set her heavy bag on the snow-covered ground between her boots and looked at her friends. “Go on in. I’ll catch up with you in a few.” At this, Freya smiled that maddeningly knowing smile of hers, but she said nothing about crushing, thank goodness.
“Okay. Later,” said Idun as she, Skade, and Freya pushed through the V’s doors.
With his superlong strides, Thor reached Sif in no time at all. Mjollnir was hanging from his Belt-o’-Power, she noted. “So how’s the hammer working out for you?” she asked.
“I scared off three frost giants with it just this morning,” he informed her proudly. “It works great but is a bit tricky to use, since the handle’s so short. Like I said during the judging, it gets superhot when I throw it. Singes my fingers every time it flies back to me.”
“Oh! That reminds me.” Quickly she handed him the heavy bag containing the purchase she’d made at the mall.
The superstrong boygod lifted the bag as if it weighed no more than one of Sif’s hair ribbons
. Seeing the Mighty Mitts and Knits logo on it, he asked dubiously, “What’s this? It’s not from Ms. Frigg, is it?”
Sif grinned. He probably feared the bag contained one of Ms. Frigg’s misshapen hats. “No. It’s a small gift. From me.”
Already looking pleased, Thor opened the bag. A puzzled look came over his face as he pulled out two heavy iron gloves. But then realization dawned and his face lit up. “For catching Mjollnir?” he guessed.
She smiled, nodding. “They seemed thick enough to protect your hands and keep them from getting too hot. Almost like armor.”
“Genius idea!” Thor exclaimed. He tried on the heavy gloves. “A perfect fit! Thanks. I really like you . . . uh . . . I mean your new hair!” His face turned redder than Skade’s sparkly red boots. Looking alarmed and embarrassed, he spluttered, “I mean, I really like the gloves!”
“I’m glad,” she said, grinning. She liked him, too. As a friend, anyway. As far as crushing went . . . well . . . time would tell.
Instead of taking off the gloves, he kept them on, turning his hands this way and that to admire them as they went inside. Ever the gentleman, he held open the door with one gloved hand.
“I wonder how Loki’s doing?” she asked after a glimpse around the room showed that he wasn’t there. “He must be getting really hungry by now, since he can’t eat with his lips sealed.”
“He’ll survive. Brokk’s spell will wear off by dinnertime. Unfortunately.” Thor’s face brightened. “In the meantime, everyone can enjoy a break from his yapping and trickery. I know I will!”
Sif laughed. A moment later they parted as their friends waved them over to different tables. She had just sat down between Idun and Skade when a Valkyrie fluttered by with a breakfast tray and offered her a plate of sausages with freshly baked bread and cheese. After she took it, the Valkyrie flew off to deliver more plates of food. Sif was about to tuck into her breakfast when she heard a squirrelly voice calling her name. Ratatosk! What did he want?
