Phase One: Thor

by Alex Irvine

  Now, the Destroyer held the Casket of Ancient Winters in its hands.

  Thor turned, and his eyes met his father’s. While Odin’s eyes were troubled and resigned, Thor’s blazed with unabashed fury. This was an act of war! While up above, a roomful of the most important people in the Nine Realms had been celebrating, the Vault had been broken into and two sentries killed. All of Asgard could be at risk. Something had to be done.

  Odin watched as various emotions played over his son’s face. He knew Thor was angry and that he wanted revenge. A part of him wanted that, too. If Laufey had sent the Frost Giants, it meant that he no longer valued the truce. On the other hand, if Laufey hadn’t sent them, and the rogue Jotuns had acted on their own, then Odin might be starting an unnecessary war by retaliating. To Odin, the more troubling question was how the Jotuns had gotten into Asgard. With the all-seeing Heimdall stationed at the base of the Bifrost—the Rainbow Bridge connecting the Nine Realms—it should have been impossible for anyone to enter unnoticed.

  “The Jotuns must pay for what they’ve done!” Thor shouted, interrupting his father’s thoughts.

  “They have paid,” Odin said softly. “The ultimate price.”

  Thor didn’t care. He was burning with the desire to avenge this insult to Asgard. “This is an act of war!”

  The king shook his head sadly. He had hoped Thor would think rationally about the consequences. “I have a truce with Laufey,” Odin reminded Thor.

  “He just broke your truce,” Thor said. “We must act!”

  Odin turned to Thor’s friends. “Leave us,” he commanded. When he was alone with his son, he asked, “What action would you take?”

  Thor puffed out his chest. He knew exactly what he would do. “March into Jotunheim as you once did and teach them a lesson.”

  “The Casket of Ancient Winters belonged to the Jotuns. They believe it’s their birthright,” Odin said, his voice heavy.

  “And if they had it, they would lay waste to the Nine Realms!”

  “This was the action of but a few, doomed to fail,” Odin said. “We will find the breach in our defenses, and it will be sealed.”

  “As king of Asgard,” Thor began, and Odin lost his patience.

  “But you’re not king yet!” he roared. Father and son stared each other down for a long moment. Odin knew Thor thought him weak, but Odin had the well-being of Asgard to consider. Thor thought only as a warrior. Under no circumstances would Odin permit Thor to travel to Jotunheim. It would solve nothing and most certainly send the realms into war. Thor was not ready for such a war, and Odin feared he was too old to see it through.

  Thor looked as though he might challenge his father. His face was hard and his eyes glittered with anger. But without saying anything, he turned on his heel and left the Vault.

  Alone with the dead sentries and the bodies of the Jotun warriors, Odin felt his limbs begin to shake. He was uneasy and unsure about Asgard’s future and about his own health—and that frightened him.

  Thor stood in the banquet hall, stewing over the argument with his father. No, he was not king yet; but it was his birthright, and he was not going to let a few words in a ceremony stand between him and protecting Asgard. His brother and his friends were there, unsure how to speak to him in the midst of his rage.

  Finally, it was Loki who took the first step toward Thor.

  “If it’s any consolation, I think you’re right,” he said. “About the Frost Giants, about Laufey, everything. If a few of them could penetrate the defenses of Asgard once, who’s to say they won’t try again? Next time with an army?”

  “Yes, exactly!” Thor said. He was glad his brother agreed.

  “But there’s nothing we can do without defying Father,” Loki pointed out.

  Thor considered this. He looked out the banquet hall window over the splendor of Asgard. Then he looked down at Mjolnir. Loki saw Thor get a gleam in his eye. The kind of gleam he got when he saw a chance for battle.

  “No,” Loki said. “Stop there! I know that look!”

  “It’s the only way to ensure the safety of our borders,” Thor said. “We’re going to Jotunheim.”

  Fandral was usually up for anything Thor proposed, but this idea stunned him. “What!?”

  Sif was more serious. “Thor, of all the laws of Asgard, this is one you must not break.”

  “If the Frost Giants don’t kill you, your father will!” Volstagg added.

  Thor didn’t care. He knew this was the right thing to do. “My father fought his way into Jotunheim, defeated their armies, and took their Casket! We’d just be looking for answers.”

  “It is forbidden!” Sif warned.

  Thor spread his arms and brought his brother and his friends close to him. “My friends, trust me now. We must do this.”

  There was a pause. Then Loki said, “Yes, of course! I won’t let my brother march into Jotunheim alone. I will be at his side.”

  “And I,” Volstagg said.

  Fandral nodded. “And I.”

  Hogun, a warrior of few words, nodded as well. “The Warriors Three fight together.”

  “I fear we’ll live to regret this,” Sif said.

  Volstagg rolled his eyes. “If we’re lucky.”

  All they had to do was get past Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifrost. He had the gift of seeing anything that happened anywhere in the Nine Realms. He would certainly be ready for them. As the watcher over the Bifrost, he was sworn to be loyal to Odin; if the All-Father had forbidden travel to Jotunheim, Heimdall would prevent Thor and his friends from making the journey.

  But Thor had to ask.

  Loki wanted to take the lead and convince Heimdall to permit their voyage, but Thor had no patience to wait. When they reached the gateway to the Observatory, where Heimdall stood his endless watch, Thor strode forward.

  “Heimdall, may we pass?” he asked.

  For a long moment Heimdall just stared at them from under his heavy golden helmet. When he spoke, his words were slow and careful.

  “For ages have I guarded Asgard and kept it safe from those who would do it harm,” he said. “In all that time, never has an enemy slipped by my watch—until this day. I wish to know how that happened.”

  Thor nodded. This was good news. Heimdall would let them pass even though it was against Odin’s rules. “Then tell no one where we’ve gone until we’ve returned,” Thor said.

  Thor walked past Heimdall. The rest of the group followed. Loki looked irritated that he hadn’t gotten his chance to speak. Volstagg couldn’t resist needling him a little.

  “What happened?” Volstagg joked. “Your silver tongue turn to lead?”

  “Get me off this bridge before it cracks under your girth,” Loki snapped.

  Volstagg and Fandral laughed.

  “Be warned,” Heimdall said as the group passed him. “I will honor my sworn oath to protect this Realm as its gatekeeper. If your return threatens the safety of Asgard, Bifrost will remain closed to you.” He let them think about that for a moment.

  If the Bifrost did not open to them, they would be stuck in Jotunheim, surrounded by a huge army of angry Jotuns. The thought sobered them all.

  Except Thor. “I have no plans to die today,” he said.

  Heimdall did not smile. “None do,” he said.

  Heimdall inserted his sword into the lock that controlled the Bifrost, opening and closing the pathways to the Nine Realms. The great Observatory, a clockworks sphere that channeled the energies of the Bifrost, began to spin.

  “All is ready,” Heimdall said. “You may pass.”

  Thor, Loki, Sif, and the Warriors Three stepped up onto the platform at the center of the Observatory. Soon the Bifrost would appear there, allowing them to travel instantly to any of the Nine Realms.

  On the outside of the Observatory was a long, narrow cone. It turned and aimed toward Jotunheim. A beam of rainbow energy shot out from it across space and became the Rainbow Bridge.

  “Couldn’t you
just leave the bridge open for us?” Volstagg asked. He looked nervous. He always was before a possible fight.

  “To keep this bridge open would unleash the full power of the Bifrost and destroy Jotunheim,” Heimdall said.

  The Bifrost could remain open only long enough for a group to go across it. Its energies were too powerful to contain if it stayed open for too long.

  “Ah. Never mind, then,” Volstagg said.

  Thor started toward the Bifrost. At the edge of the bridge, he stopped and looked back toward his friends, grinning.

  “Come on!” he said. “Don’t be bashful.”

  WHAT LOKI SAW

  Loki watched all that happened in Asgard. He might _not have had Heimdall’s gift, but he knew what happened in this realm. He saw and heard many things that others did not, and he made his own plans. He could watch unobserved because he was the second son, the forgotten son. All eyes in Asgard followed Thor. Loki also heard and saw things a little differently than other Asgardians, because it was a gift of his to alter the way others perceived the world. Call it illusion, call it persuasion; either way, the result was that Loki made sure he always possessed information other Asgardians did not. This was his true power, just as Thor’s true power lay in his limitless courage and strength.

  He considered everything that had happened since the discovery of the Jotun attempt to capture the Casket of Winters. Odin had been clear: Thor was not to act upon the Jotuns. But Loki knew that his brother would not accept that command. Thor was not one to wait patiently, as he made clear by raging through the banquet hall before Loki and the Warriors Three could calm him.

  His brother was pacing up and down, his long strides echoing like thunder off the walls. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif had just entered the room, their faces worried, when suddenly Thor walked over to the long table that had been set for his celebration dinner. He flipped it over as though it weighed no more than a feather. Food and drink went flying and dishes clattered to the ground and glasses shattered.

  The room grew silent.

  “All this food,” Volstagg said, eyeing the remains of a large cake. “So innocent. Cast to the ground. It breaks the heart.”

  Thor shot him a look so cold that Volstagg took a step back as if he had been hit. Glancing around the room, Volstagg’s gaze fell on Loki. He nodded at Loki as if to say, Can you please do something about your wild brother?

  Loki doubted there was anything he could say or do. His powers of persuasion were known throughout Asgard, but Thor knew him well enough to know when Loki was trying to talk him into something. Even so, he felt he ought to try. He walked over, reaching out a hand to comfort Thor.

  “It’s unwise to be in my company right now, brother,” Thor said.

  Already Loki had seen the light in Thor’s eyes. He knew that look. It meant Thor would not be satisfied without a battle. This was not good. Not good at all. While Thor might have been willing to risk the wrath of the king, Loki wasn’t so eager to do so. He had spent too many years trying to get his father’s attention, and he didn’t want what attention he finally did get to come from a foolish idea of Thor’s. His brother’s next words confirmed his fears.

  “We’re going to Jotunheim,” Thor stated.

  “It’s madness!” Loki cried, catching the attention of the others, who had been standing apart from the brothers.

  “What’s madness?” Volstagg asked.

  “Nothing!” Loki answered, shooting his brother a look. “Thor was making a jest.”

  “The safety of our realm is no jest,” Thor said, walking over to his fellow warriors and filling them in on his plan. “We’re going to Jotunheim.”

  As Thor tried to convince the others, Loki moved to the side and listened. Why did he always seem to get into trouble because of his older brother? Wasn’t he supposed to be the wiser one? Odin had expressly forbidden that they enter Jotunheim. Yet it wasn’t the first time Thor had done something reckless. And it wouldn’t be the first time Loki was powerless to stop him. Anger shot through him. Did Thor not realize what could happen if they were caught? Or worse, if they did go to Jotunheim and were overwhelmed by the Frost Giants? They would be realms away. Who would save them?

  Loki had already set his own plans in motion to save Asgard from the threat of the Jotuns. He could not have Thor ruining them. Perhaps he ought to make use of his other gift—the power of illusion, to make people see what was not there and blind them to what was?

  Not yet, he thought. Not yet.

  Sighing, he tuned back into the conversation to hear Thor say, “My friends, trust me now. We must do this.” Then he turned to Loki and raised an eyebrow as if to say, You are in, are you not, little brother?

  There was no choice. “I won’t let my brother march into Jotunheim alone,” he said simply.

  Loki had made a decision. True, he could not dictate his brother’s actions, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t continue to make plans of his own. As the others checked and double-checked that they had everything they would need for their journey to Jotunheim, Loki slipped away.

  When Loki rejoined the others, they were on their way to the Observatory. Hogun gave him a curious glance, but he ignored it. What he had done was none of their business.

  “We must first find a way to get past Heimdall,” Thor said.

  “That will be no easy task,” Volstagg observed, trying to get his bulky body comfortable atop his horse. “It’s said the gatekeeper can see a single dewdrop fall from a blade of grass a thousand miles away.”

  Loki tried not to roll his eyes. Heimdall was not nearly as powerful as Volstagg claimed. He couldn’t be, or else how had the Jotuns managed to sneak past him? It would take a person with true power to make that happen. That was the type of person Volstagg should fear.

  Fandral seemed to agree with Loki’s thoughts. “And he can hear a cricket passing gas in Niflheim,” he said, his voice teasing.

  “Forgive him!” Volstagg cried, raising his eyes to the sky. “He meaneth no offense!”

  The others were still laughing at the big man’s even bigger superstitions… except Thor, who took no notice. Loki’s brother was single-minded. All he could think of was teaching the Jotuns a lesson. Within moments, they were through the tall gate that surrounded the royal city. The Observatory loomed before them. Behind it, the dark cosmos spread out, a black sea of twinkling lights, which made the domed building seem to float in the sky.

  When they arrived, Heimdall was waiting for them.

  “Leave this to me,” Loki said, eyeing the intimidating man whose face was nearly hidden behind a gold helmet. “Good Heimdall—” Loki began to say.

  The watcher over the Bifrost held up a hand, silencing him. “You think you can deceive me?” he asked, and Loki took an involuntary step backward. How much did Heimdall know? He opened his mouth to protest, but the guard went on. “I, who can sense the flapping of a butterfly’s wings across the cosmos?”

  Volstagg eyed the others knowingly. Turning to Loki, he teased, “Silver tongue turn to lead?”

  Loki glared at him. “Get me off this bridge before it cracks under your girth,” he retorted.

  Once again, Heimdall held up a hand to silence them. “You are not dressed warmly enough,” he said, causing Loki to breathe a sigh of relief. So that was what Heimdall knew—that they were going to attack the icy realm of Jotunheim. Heimdall must have heard about the attack in the Vault and was anxious to figure out how the giants had slipped past them.

  With a nod, the group followed Heimdall to the Observatory. Loki looked up and around at the large domed ceiling, its sides covered with carvings and glittering with an unnatural bronze light. As they all looked on, Heimdall walked over to what appeared to be a large control panel in the middle of the room. He lifted up his sword and plunged it deep into the device. The room suddenly filled with a pulsating, vibrating energy—the Bifrost. Turning, Loki saw a large opening on the side of the Observatory. Beyond it, the cosmos spread out. />
  Heimdall plunged his sword even deeper into the device, and the Bifrost energy quickened, coalescing into a vortex of spinning rainbow light. It shot out into the darkness, creating a link with Jotunheim.

  “All is ready,” Heimdall said. “You may pass.”

  Loki hated Bifrost travel. The way the portal sucked and pulled you apart until you feared you would not recover; the shock and cold as you were sucked between realms; and the knowledge that when the Bifrost closed behind you, it might not ever open again, trapping you far from home. Still, he had no choice. The plan was in motion, and this trip was part of it.

  As Thor stepped up and disappeared into the vortex, Loki paused and looked back over his shoulder as if he could see into the palace.

  Turning back, he walked up to the portal entrance and took a deep breath.

  One more step and he would be sucked into the swirling rainbow.

  They were on their way to Jotunheim.

  And what would happen once they got there was not in the hands of fate, but in the hands of his impulsive brother and his warrior friends. Loki would not be able to manipulate events there. He had to trust that the arrangements he had made would be enough for them all to survive.

  THE POWER OF THREE

  Volstagg had never been this cold in his entire life. Or hungry. It wasn’t natural for one not to feel one’s nose or lips or hands or even eyeballs. And it certainly wasn’t natural for him to hear his stomach grumbling over the sound of the wind howling. No, it was entirely wrong. As was this godforsaken journey to Jotunheim that he and his fellow warriors had been talked into by Thor Odinson.

  Usually, Volstagg would be up for any adventure. His giant size was matched only by his equally large appetite for food—and excitement. And he had been at Thor’s side on many a journey. It was his rightful place as a member of the Warriors Three. He, Fandral the Dashing (who, in Volstagg’s opinion, was a bit too attached to mirrors and his own reflection), and Hogun the Grim (who was certainly grim, you couldn’t argue with that) were famous throughout the Nine Realms. Poems had been written about the mighty band of adventurers in Nornheim. Songs had been sung of their trips to Midgard, and tales had been told of their many conquests—of both lands outside the realm and women. And they were all true—well, most of them. At least the ones that other people told. Volstagg himself believed that a bit of embellishment could go a long way.