The Entirely True Story of the Unbelievable FIB

by Adam Shaughnessy

  Not quite ready to go find her mother, Pru made her way to the stairs that led to the lockup area where she’d find the bulletin board with the WANTED posters. She liked to know what she was up against. As she descended the stairs, she crossed her fingers that she’d know the officer on duty. Otherwise, she’d just get sent away. She was in luck.

  “Hi, Sergeant Mahoney,” she said as she reached the bottom of the steps.

  “Prudence Potts,” the rotund man behind the desk said. His bushy mustache wriggled when he talked, like a furry black caterpillar that was eager to crawl off. “It’s finally happened, hasn’t it? You’ve landed yourself in lockup. What did you do?”

  He held up his hands, silencing her.

  “No. Wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I prefer to remember you as the sweet, innocent child you were. Although”—he paused and adopted a thoughtful expression—“I’m not sure my memory goes back that far.”

  Slowly, and with great purpose and dignity, Pru stuck out her tongue.

  “Get over here, ruffian. It’s about time you came to visit us. What’s the occasion?”

  “I came with my mom.” Pru surrendered to another hair ruffle. As she did, her eyes chanced upon the door to the lockup area. “Has anyone interesting come through lately?”

  “Prudence, you’re a snoop and a scoundrel. Lucky for you, that’s half your charm. But, no. Sorry to disappoint, little lady, but it’s been quiet as ever here. Although . . .” Sergeant Mahoney’s pupils narrowed and his face assumed a distracted expression. “Hold on. Now that you mention it, there was that one gent.”

  “Who?”

  “You know, I don’t think we ever got his name. That’s odd, though, isn’t it?” Beads of sweat formed on the sergeant’s forehead as though it were an effort for him to remember. “We should have gotten his name. There are forms and such. He was some drifter, I suppose. Dressed real funny. That’s right, we figured him to be a volunteer for the fair, dressed the way he was.”

  “How was he dressed?”

  “Who?” The sergeant blinked at Pru, as though he’d already forgotten she was there. “Oh, right, that gent in lockup. Well, he was dressed like a Viking. Weird, huh? The joker must have gotten drunk and put on his costume for the Explorers’ Fair. We picked him up in the woods, out by that old fort. Got a tip from Old Man Grimnir, of all people.”

  Pru faked a cough to cover the look of surprise on her face. “What happened to this guy?” she asked, trying not to sound too interested.

  Without turning his head, Sergeant Mahoney glanced quickly toward the door to the holding cells.

  He looked quickly away.

  “Is he still here? That can’t be, though, can it? When did we pick him up? Was it late Wednesday?” He tugged at his collar. “Is it hot in here?”

  “Um, a little,” Pru said. Sergeant Mahoney’s distracted behavior seemed familiar. It reminded Pru of her mother’s reaction when Pru tried to show her Mister Fox’s envelope. Mister Fox had said that people who couldn’t see magic had a hard time focusing on the envelopes. Did that mean that Sergeant Mahoney was having a hard time focusing because the prisoner was magic, too? Was he a Mythic?

  “If you’re hot, why don’t you go get some water?” Pru suggested. “My mom’s upstairs. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  “I can’t, really. Must stay at my post, you know. Duty first.” The sergeant seemed unaware that he’d risen to his feet.

  “Sure you can. It’s not like anyone’s going anywhere. Right?”

  “Right.” Sergeant Mahoney laughed nervously. He appeared eager to get away. “Coming?”

  “In a sec,” Pru said. She pointed to the bulletin board with the wanted posters. “Gotta study up. It’s been a while, you know?”

  “Of course, of course.” The sergeant waved absently and then hiked his pants as he climbed the stairs.

  Pru watched him go. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she slid her hand under the duty desk and pressed the button she wasn’t supposed to know about. It unlocked the door leading to the cells. She dashed through and entered the hallway beyond.

  Her footfalls echoed off the cement floor and walls as she made her way to the first cell. The air tingled with electricity.

  Empty.

  Swallowing her disappointment, Pru continued. The shadows deepened, unaffected by the pitiful light that managed to penetrate the heavy clouds and enter the shallow basement window wells. Pru felt the hairs on the back of her neck lift as the contents of the second cell came into view.

  Those contents turned out to be neither mysterious nor mythological. Neat stacks of canned goods stood in ordered piles, waiting for the Explorers’ Fair.

  Small, hesitant steps carried Pru to the third and final cell—and its lone occupant. Pru clasped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out in surprise.

  If the being in the cell was who Pru thought he must be, it was no wonder Middleton was covered with dark, brooding clouds and skies filled with angry thunder. The man was big and hairy and looked a bit like how Pru imagined a bear would look if someone were to dress it up like a Viking and then stick a beard on it. If Pru was right, the man locked up in the third holding cell of the Middleton Police Department was Thor, the Norse god of thunder.

  And, boy, did he look mad.

  CHAPTER

  16

  JUDGING BY THE SIZE AND OVERALL ANGRY BEARNESS of the prisoner, Pru wasn’t at all sure she wanted to approach him. She had seen a movie once in which a boxer swallowed whole eggs to help him bulk up. The man in the cell didn’t look like he swallowed whole eggs. He looked like he swallowed whole chickens.

  No.

  He looked like he swallowed whole boxers.

  “You’re him, aren’t you?” Pru asked as soon as she mustered the courage. “You’re Thor.”

  She thought she saw an eyebrow rise, but it was hard to tell in the tangle of red hair that covered the man’s face. Only his blazing green eyes showed clearly. They glinted like the sun reflecting off metal.

  “I’m impressed,” Thor said. Pru was surprised to hear a hint of gentleness in the gruff rumble of his voice. In the next moment, his face fell. “Very few people of Midgard see me these days. Far fewer recognize me.”

  If Pru hadn’t known better, she’d have said the mighty god of thunder sounded a bit like he was moping.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice recognizing Norse gods, lately. I think I sort of met your dad,” she added, edging closer.

  Thor’s eyes blazed at that and Pru took a step back. Then she took another.

  “Odin is still here on Midgard?” Thor asked.

  “Yeah. He spends a lot of time here, I think. He’s even got a house.”

  “A house?” Thor’s face twisted into an expression of deep thought. It did not seem to be an expression with which he was very comfortable or familiar. “My father had me imprisoned because I came to Midgard against his wishes. Why would he keep a house here?”

  “I don’t know . . . Wait. Your dad got you arrested? How come?”

  Thor looked away as the sky outside rumbled in a way that sounded suspiciously like someone clearing his throat awkwardly. His shoulders slumped.

  “It’s, ah, possible that I disobeyed him. A little,” Thor said.

  “Really? What did you do?”

  “My duty!” Thor thundered. “Long ago, when our worlds began to grow apart, my father ordered that we of Asgard stay away from Midgard. I obeyed him for hundreds of your years. But when word reached me recently that a raiding party of frost giants had come here, I knew I had to do something.”

  “That’s right,” Pru said, remembering the story she and ABE had read. “You used to protect Earth, or, ah, Midgard, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” Thor sat up a bit straighter. “So I felt honor bound to come here and see to the giants. I had hoped that, well . . .”

  “You hoped that you could sneak out of Asgard, whack a few giants in the head wit
h your hammer, and get back home before your dad found out?” Pru found herself warming to Thor.

  The mighty god of thunder shifted on the bench. The sky grumbled again.

  “Well . . . yes. I suppose. Something like that. But it was a foolish hope. There’s very little my father doesn’t see. He caught me before I could find the giants and told me that if I loved the mortal world so much that I would disobey him, then I should enjoy its hospitality for a time. He ordered me to serve out my punishment here.” Thor gestured to his cell.

  “He grounded you. That stinks,” Pru said, feeling instant empathy and a sense of kinship. Then she frowned. “But wait. I don’t get it. Why would he do that? If the giants aren’t stopped, they’re going to stomp my town. And they’ll get the Eye of Odin.”

  “WHAT?” The sky outside roared, and Thor was on his feet, his fists clenching the bars of his door. Pru never even saw him move. “Explain what you just said!”

  “The Eye of Odin,” Pru sputtered, staggering back and pressing against the damp, cool wall. “Odin wrote the hiding place of the Eye of Odin on a rune stone, and that stone is here. That’s why the giants are in Middleton. They’re after the Eye.”

  “WHAT?” Thor repeated, and the whole building quaked as thunder filled the air. Thor shook his fists and the two bars he held broke free, spilling concrete rubble across the floor. Startled, Thor looked at the twisted bars in his hands. A sheepish expression replaced the anger on his face.

  “Er, sorry,” he mumbled. “Bit of a temper.” He leaned the now-­loose bars against their neighbors in an awkward and unsuccessful attempt to disguise what he’d done. Glancing at the ruined cell door, he folded his hands behind his back in an I-­didn’t-­do-­it gesture.

  “I am just surprised,” he said, after taking a deep breath. “And . . . confused. I knew my father was consumed with thoughts of Ragnarok, but I never thought he would allow the Eye of Odin to be found. Ever since he drank from the Well of Wisdom, his manner has changed. He never acts anymore. He just watches!”

  “Ragnarok,” Pru repeated. “I’ve heard of that. It’s supposed to be some big battle, right?”

  “It is more than that. It is the final battle. When Ragnarok comes, Loki will lead his army of frost giants against the gods of Asgard, and our battle will destroy all of the three worlds.”

  “Wait. All of them?” Pru hated to sound selfish, but she had to ask. “Even . . . even my world? Even Midgard?”

  “Even so.” Thor’s expression softened. “But keep in mind, little one, my father foresaw that this would happen, but he did not see when. Time passes differently in Asgard than it does in your mortal world. Hundreds of thousands of years could pass here before Ragnarok strikes. At least, that had always been my hope. But this news about the Eye of Odin worries me. If the Eye is the prize here, the giants are not the real trouble.”

  “They kind of seem like trouble to me.”

  The sky echoed the soft rumble of Thor’s laughter.

  “Frost giants are brutes. They prefer action, not strategy. It’s one of the few things I like about them. They bash and smash, none of that troublesome thinking. They don’t care about the Eye of Odin. That prize has always been the desire of another. If the giants are here seeking the Eye, then there is someone else here, too, guiding their actions.”

  “Who?” Pru asked.

  “Loki.”

  “The one who starts Ragnarok? And wait,” Pru said, remembering another story, “isn’t he the one who got Asgard’s wall built, too?”

  “He did. Loki has always been the cleverest among us. Not the wisest, mind you, but always the most clever.”

  “You talk about him like he’s your friend.”

  “He is.”

  “How can you say that? He’s going to destroy both our worlds!”

  “Someday, yes. But for now, Loki only brings mischief. And sometimes his mischief brings great reward.”

  “So . . . he’s not bad?”

  “Not yet. Well, not completely. But I’m afraid everything will change if Loki gets the Eye of Odin. Right now, Loki believes he can change his fate.”

  “Good for him! Maybe he can.”

  Thor shook his head. “Perhaps mortals can change their future. I don’t know. But gods have a different relationship with the fates. We are bound. My father has seen it. If Loki looks into the Eye of Odin, he will see himself revealed as the villain he must become. I am afraid that will push him to the very acts that will doom us all and bring about Ragnarok.”

  “Okay,” Pru said, shivering. “We need to keep Loki away from the Eye of Odin. But, I mean, you’re Thor. Look at what you did to those bars. You can break out of here and smash those giants into dust!”

  And she could show off to Mister Fox and ABE by claiming the credit for finding Thor. Not that getting credit for saving the day was the most important thing, Pru reminded herself.

  (But it sort of was.)

  “I can’t, little one,” Thor said, bringing Pru’s inner celebration to an instant and terrible halt. “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Thor looked down at his booted feet. For a moment the Viking god of thunder reminded Pru, impossibly, of ABE.

  “I can’t disobey my father again. Odin says we must not interfere with Midgard. I was wrong not to listen. He is the Father of Wisdom while I . . . Well, I am not famous for my thinking.” Thor glanced at the ruined bars.

  “But you’re our only chance. You’re the only one the giants are afraid of, the only one strong enough to beat them!”

  Thor puffed his chest out, clearly pleased. Pru thought that he might change his mind for a moment, but he quickly deflated.

  “I cannot disobey my father again. I will not. I must remain here until my father releases me, then I must return to Asgard. And yet . . .” Thor’s face took on a pained expression. “Perhaps there is another way to stop Loki.”

  “What?” Pru said, stepping closer again.

  “My father commanded that everyone from Asgard stay away from Midgard.” Thor spoke slowly as he labored to give birth to an idea. “That command applies to Loki, too. I am sure Loki is here, guiding the giants. If you find him and expose him to my father, Odin will be forced to finally take some action. He will punish Loki as he has punished me. Without Loki’s guidance, the giants will return to Jotunheim.”

  “But I don’t get it. If Loki is here in Middleton, how come Odin hasn’t punished him already?”

  “Because Loki can be very hard to find. He is called the Sly One, the Lord of Lies. Even his appearance can lie. He’s a shape-­shifter.”

  “A shape-­shifter?” Pru slumped. “So he could be anyone?”

  “No. Not anyone. There is nothing that Loki enjoys so much as being clever, and he never feels so clever as when he is making someone else feel foolish. Loki will be at the very center of things here in your town, the truth of his identity buried in lies. And since you also appear to be at the center of things, little one, I would guess that Loki is someone you’ve already met, someone close to you. That’s the thing about Loki. He may be your greatest enemy, but he can appear to you as the closest of friends.”

  Pru’s face darkened and Thor sighed again before continuing.

  “This is a heavy burden I’m asking you to carry. But Loki cannot be allowed to find the Eye of Odin. It appears you are the only one in a position to stop him. And I”—Thor looked suddenly embarrassed—“I haven’t even asked your name.”

  “I’m Pru.”

  Thor reached into a pouch tied to his belt and withdrew what appeared to be a necklace.

  “I greet you, Pru. It used to be that the people of Midgard would carry an amulet like this, fashioned in the shape of my hammer, Mjolnir, around their necks. They wore it and called on me in times of need. Though I can’t do anything to help you stop Loki, I’d like you to have this, anyway, as a sign of my favor.” Thor handed the necklace to Pru through the bars.

  “Thanks,”
Pru mumbled, preoccupied by what Thor had said. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t help. Thor had said that Loki could appear as one of her closest friends. That news wouldn’t have bothered Pru a couple of weeks earlier. She hadn’t had any friends. Not really. Now, though, she had two.

  Or so she’d thought.

  The idea that ABE or Mister Fox might not be who she thought he was tormented Pru as she rejoined her mother and they returned home. The worst part, Pru found herself thinking in bed that night as darkness and doubt settled in, was that she didn’t know who she wanted to be the liar. ABE was the first friend she’d had in school in a very long time. She wasn’t sure exactly when she’d begun thinking of him as a friend. Now, the very real possibility that he might not be her friend upset her more than she wanted to admit.

  Then there was Mister Fox. Even though his tendency to be amused by everything (especially her) annoyed Pru, she found him intriguing. And he’d opened her eyes to whole new worlds.

  But had he?

  Doubt crept closer. Hadn’t she and ABE already begun to figure out that magic and mythology were real when they met Old Man Grimnir? Pru tried to think of anything that Mister Fox had told them that she and ABE hadn’t already known. Sure, he had shown them the Henhouse and told them the story about Baba Yaga. But who knew if any of it was true? Maybe he made up the story with Baba Yaga. Maybe all that stuff about people finding their own answers just gave Mister Fox an excuse to discourage her and ABE from asking too many questions.

  Or was she letting ABE off the hook too easily?

  Pru tossed restlessly, becoming as tangled in her covers as she was in her thoughts. She remembered one of the first things Mister Fox had said to ABE in the Henhouse—that ABE was lying about his name. Had Mister Fox been right, after all? Wasn’t it suspicious that ABE arrived in town at the same time the giants appeared? Wouldn’t his family have moved for the start of the school year? Come to think of it, did ABE even have a family? Pru couldn’t remember him ever talking about his parents or anyone else.

  Then again, she couldn’t remember ever asking him, either.