by Alan Early
‘For hundreds of years,’ he said, ‘I played tricks on humans and on the other gods. I’d make a pregnant woman give birth to a pig just to see her face. Or I’d give a cow sharp teeth so that she could eat her farmer instead. So funny. So very, very funny.’ He rubbed Arthur’s head patronisingly as he passed. ‘But after a while I got bored of that. So I created my three children. And the first one was the Jormungand.’
Olaf spoke up here. ‘The Jormungand was a giant snake. It’s also known as the Midgard Serpent or the World Serpent. It was said that it could eat the world piece by piece till nothing was left. That’s why it’s always depicted strangling a tree: the tree of life.’
‘But it didn’t work!’ shouted Loki. ‘It didn’t work!’ He started crying loudly then suddenly ran into the market. He knocked over a stall as he went and laughed wildly. Arthur thought he probably should have won an Oscar for that demented performance. Or at least that he probably wanted to win an Oscar.
‘Anyway, let’s continue our tour,’ said Olaf.
‘Wait,’ Arthur said. ‘What did he mean “it didn’t work”?’
Olaf sighed heavily. ‘Okay. Thor, son of the good god Odin, led a battle against the Jormungand. The battle ended at the edge of the world and Thor managed to defeat the beast but the great warrior took only nine steps from the fallen serpent before he died himself. The serpent wasn’t killed, but it was so tired from the battle that it fell into an eternal sleep. The Vikings buried the Jormungand underground, along with a hundred men to guard it. Now, shall we continue our tour? This way, please.’
‘What happened then?’ Ash asked.
‘Look, kid,’ Olaf started, totally out of character by this stage and approaching Ash angrily, ‘it doesn’t matter, all right! It’s just a story. Now, please, we have to finish the tour soon, so let’s hustle.’
As Olaf herded the group through the market, Arthur, Will and Ash fell back.
‘What do you think?’ Arthur said.
‘I don’t know what to make of it all,’ answered Will.
‘What do you think, Arthur?’ Ash asked.
‘I’m thinking …’ he started. He didn’t want to finish the thought but knew he had to. ‘I’m thinking that I saw Loki create the Jormungand in a dream. And I’m thinking that … that it’s not just a story.’
‘In that case, I think we should go back,’ said Will.
‘What do you mean “go back”?’ Arthur asked. ‘Back home?’
‘No. To the tunnel, to the River Poddle.’
‘Why would we do that?’ asked Ash, shocked.
‘Well, something is clearly happening – it can’t be a coincidence that Arthur is suddenly having these weird dreams about the Jormungand and Loki and the Poddle and that we found the pendant in the Poddle tunnel. We need to go back to see what else we find. There might be more pendants down there. Or some clues about what’s going on. Or –’
‘No,’ Arthur interrupted, ‘we’re not going back. It’s too dangerous.’ He looked back at the market where the fake Loki was running amok through the stalls. ‘Anyway, the Loki in my dream was way scarier than that guy. I don’t want to take any chances.’
Chapter Eleven
In a time before written history, in Asgard, the realm of the gods, there is a great spring named the Well of Urd. This reservoir contains all the knowledge of all the worlds that is, that was and that will be. As such, the Well of Urd is bottomless, as new wisdom forms every second of every minute of every day.
Though picturesque, the well doesn’t look like much at first glance. It appears to be little more than a pond, barely large enough for two swans to spread their wings, with rocks forming a small wall around the edge. It is hidden away at the outer boundary of a forest, against a high cliff. Water pours down the cliff wall from an unseen river above and into the well, foaming as it crashes against the larger rocks. The water isn’t clear – it’s murky, filled with dust and weeds and white froth. No man could hope to gain knowledge from these dark waters by himself.
Every day, the twelve gods and twelve goddesses who reside in Asgard come to the well. They come not to stare into the cloudy water but to seek counsel from the keepers of the well. The three keepers are known as the Norns: Urd, Skuld and Verdandi.
Wind and rain lash the plains of Asgard this morning, a bad omen. The gods travel on chariots led by pigs and goats through the woods. None of them wears their battle helmet today, only capes with hoods to protect themselves from the raindrops. Odin stands out from the rest. He rides ahead on a great steed. He wears a wide-brimmed, brown leather hat which casts half his face in shadow. His right eye is gone and a leather patch covers the gaping hole. He traded the eye centuries ago in return for great knowledge and yet even he must bow to the wisdom of the three Norns. He is the leader of the gods, known as the All Father, the Battle God and One-Eyed. And today he seeks answers more urgently than ever before. Today, one of the gods is missing. Loki.
When they reach the Well of Urd, the All Father climbs down from his horse, walks to the spring and dips his fingers into the bubbling water. It is icy cold. He looks into the well and sees only darkness. The three Norns are nowhere to be seen. He shakes the drops from his hand and takes a couple of steps backwards. The other gods and goddesses watch him in silence.
He breathes deeply then speaks. ‘I, Odin All Father, the one-eyed god of battle, the ruler of Asgard, come here to seek counsel with the three ageless Norns. Behind me are the gods and goddesses of Asgard, all save one, and we implore you to speak to us.’
They all hold their breath, watching the foaming waterfall for any sign of movement.
‘We beg of you, oh great and wise Norns, come and grant us your counsel.’
Then something happens. Three figures step forward from behind the waterfall, from out of the rocky cliff wall. They stop directly under the water, where their features are hidden by the foaming shower. The gods can only make out impressions of the figures: they are all female, with long hair slicked to their heads by the moisture, they are slender and they stand impossibly still. As the water runs over their faces, the gods can just about see the hollows of their eyes. These are the Norns: older than the gods, older than time itself. Only they can read the knowledge in the well, only they know the truth of fate, the present and the future.
‘We are here, Odin All Father,’ they say in three voices as one. ‘What answers do you seek?’
Odin takes a step forward. He takes off his hat, exposing his balding head to the rain.
‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘We come seeking answers about one of our own. For the past three days and nights, none of us has seen or heard from the Father of Lies, Loki. We have asked the birds in the skies and the fish in the seas to look for him, but none can locate him. Surely this is a trick of his, but we need to find him. And we need to know what he’s doing.’
Verdandi, the Norn on the left, looks deep into the well. She can read all that the waters can tell her about the present.
After a time, she looks back at Odin and speaks. ‘The one you seek, Loki, is in the east. It is true that he tricked the birds of the skies and the fish of the seas so that they could not find him. He is content now, but he has not been for some time. He felt anger at you, Odin All Father, and the other gods of Asgard. He felt shame and disgust and he blames you all. He swore vengeance.’
At this, the gods gasp and start protesting loudly. Odin tries to quiet them, but they persist.
‘Do you wish for me to continue?’ asks Verdandi.
‘Please,’ says Odin. Then he turns to the other gods, commanding, ‘Be quiet all of you. We have more to learn.’
At this they grow silent and Verdandi continues. ‘Loki swore vengeance. And so, the Father of Lies became a father himself. He has created three children. These children, his evil brood, have one purpose in mind: to destroy all of creation.’
Again, the gods break into a loud, worried discussion. Odin silences them with a glare and turns
back to the Norn.
‘That is all I have to say,’ Verdandi intones. ‘My sisters may have more to tell you, Odin All Father.’
‘Thank you.’ Odin bows his head. ‘Skuld, perhaps you can tell me how to stop this madness?’
Skuld, the Norn on the right, tilts her head and stares into the well. She can see all of the near future.
Eventually she looks up at the gods and begins. ‘To stop Loki’s evil brood, you must send your greatest warriors, Odin All Father, and they should be led by your own son, Thor. It will be a battle that you will win but, I warn you, a high price will be paid. You must not allow Loki to use his power in this way again.’
‘We will apologise to Loki then,’ Odin says, ‘to appease him.’
‘No. The time for that is past. You must bind him. It would do no good to lock him in your prisons. And you cannot kill him, because it is a terrible thing for one god to kill another. If a god kills another, their purity dies. They will become evil – as bad as Loki himself.’
‘Then what should we do? How should we bind him?’
‘His mind and his tongue are his greatest weapons. You cannot allow him to use these. When you capture him, take him to the end of the world. There is a cave there underneath a small settlement whose men are loyal to you. You must do all that you can to dull his mind. If his mind is sharp, he will be able to use it to think of escape. Do not allow this to happen. That is all I have to say. Perhaps my sister can tell you more.’
Without even a prompt from Odin, the Norn in the centre looks into the water. This is Urd, the eldest Norn, and the well is named after her. She is also the most mysterious, knowing all there is about fate and destiny. After staring into the depths for longer than her sisters, she looks to Odin.
‘Odin All Father,’ she says, ‘you must trust me that what I tell you now is all that I can tell you, for no man or god must know too much of his fate. Do you understand?’
‘I understand.’
‘Good. Then I’ll begin.’ Urd nods. ‘In the far future, Loki will escape.’
There is a collective gasp from the surrounding gods. Even Odin seems taken aback. Urd continues to speak.
‘Though I can’t say how, he will escape his binding. He will try to start again what he is attempting to do now. If he succeeds in this future time, then the outcome will be grave. Even for us Norns. By unleashing his brood upon the world a second time, he will start Ragnarok.’
The anxious chatter of the gods grows louder again. Odin shouts over them. ‘How can we stop him in the future?’
‘You can’t,’ answers Urd grimly. ‘You will want to but you can’t. You must merely watch. There is only one who might be able to stop him. A boy. A young boy and his friends. One of them is watching us right now.’
‘What?’ exclaims Odin, looking around fearfully. ‘Where?’
‘Right there,’ Urd says, and her ghostly arm raises and points out of the waterfall towards –
Arthur woke in a panic when the crazy waterfall woman pointed at him. The sky was growing bright outside his window he realised as he sat up in bed. He checked the time on his watch: just after six in the morning. Too early to give Ash or Will a call anyway.
He dropped the watch back on his bedside table and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes furiously, thinking back on the dream. But was it a dream? Or was it another vision? Some kind of link to the past and another world? He looked at the pendant on his bedside locker. It wasn’t glowing even slightly, so it didn’t seem to Arthur like it was causing these strange dreams about the gods. Gods he’d never even heard of until they’d moved to Dublin.
He leaped out of bed and ran to his desk where he pulled a blank sheet of paper from a copybook and started writing. He didn’t want to forget anything he’d seen or heard in the dream and decided to note everything down before it faded from his memory the way details from the first one had:
Odin – All Father – good
Gods – good
Loki – Father of Lies – bad
Thor – Odin’s son – goes to fight Loki’s children
Norns – Some kind of weird fortune-tellers, Urd, Skuld and Verdandi
Asgard – Where the gods live
To this list he then added:
Jormungand – Loki’s first child (he had three) – giant snake – ‘World Serpent’
When he was done, he appraised the list. It was still all a big mystery to him. Too big. Without realising it, he was rubbing the ribbon on his wrist. He looked down at it and thought of his mother. She would have known what to do, or if not she would have tried to help him. She’d always been interested in mythology, encouraged him to read the legends of other places and times, but he had always put it off. If only he’d taken her advice … As he sat there alone in his room, he wanted to cry but found he couldn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Arthur didn’t sleep after that. He spent the early hours of the morning pacing the house, going over everything in his mind. He eventually sat down and made himself eat breakfast around nine. He quickly swallowed a bowl of Rice Krispies, then threw on some clothes and raced over to Ash’s house.
Ash was still in her dressing gown when she answered the door.
‘Morning, Arthur. What has you up so early?’
‘I have some stuff to tell you. Some Viking stuff. Can I come in?’
Ash led him into the living room where, over the next ten minutes, he recounted in as much detail as he could his dream of the Norns. When he was done, she stared into the distance for a few seconds before speaking.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Well, we learned a lot there.’
‘Did we?’ he said doubtfully. ‘Like what?’
‘Now we know that the gods managed to stop Loki before, but that he must have got out of his prison somehow, just like Urd foretold.’
‘I guess. Then there was that last thing she said …’ He didn’t really like thinking about the Norn pointing at him, saying that only a young boy and his friends could stop Loki.
‘Exactly. Do you think she meant you?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t like to think about it. I wish I could remember exactly what they said would happen when Loki returns this time. I just know it was bad.’
‘Yeah. Real bad. Worse than forgetting your homework or some –’ As Ash spoke, she suddenly remembered that they still hadn’t done any work on the presentation for school. ‘Arthur! The presentation!’
For a moment his eyes were glazed in confusion. Then the realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. ‘Oh no!’
For now, this homework was definitely more important than ancient monsters and evil gods. Ash leaped off her seat, saying she’d have to wash and dress before they started, and asked Arthur to wait in the kitchen. Arthur did as she said and found Ash’s mother – a warm, bubbly woman in her late forties – in the kitchen fixing breakfast. After the introductions were done, she made Arthur some toast (with real butter and marmalade). Ash soon came back down wearing a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie. Just as Arthur was about to take another bite of toast, Ash grabbed his hand and dragged him out the back door. She led him across the small, neatly kept garden.
‘Where are we –?’
‘I have the perfect idea!’ she explained when they reached the small wooden shed at the end of her back garden. ‘I thought of it when I was getting dressed.’
The shed door squeaked when she pulled it open. Inside, shelves were piled high with old paint cans and tins of oil. A large spider ambled across its web towards the carcass of a fly. Dust hung in the air, caught in the rays of light coming through the little square window. Some paintbrushes sat in a jar of murky white spirits, the paint long caked into the bristles. A few gardening tools – a rake, a hoe and a shovel – had fallen onto the electric lawnmower in the corner. And a wooden stepladder leaned on its side against the opposite wall.
‘Give me a hand with this, will you?’ she said, taking one end of the ladder.
It wasn’t as heavy as it looked; it was just an awkward shape to lift single-handed. As they carried it into the house, Ash explained further.
‘Miss Keegan loves it when you do something a bit unusual for class presentations. Like, if you’re studying Ancient Rome, you’d dress up as Romans. In last year’s class they were reading The Wind in the Willows and somebody brought in their pet toad. She loves stuff like that.’
They made their way through the kitchen, past a quizzical Mrs Barry and up the stairs with the ladder. Getting it through the stairwell was tricky and they had to reposition themselves a few times to manage it.
‘So you’re saying we dress up … as what?’ Arthur said as they opened the ladder under an attic door in the ceiling. ‘Metro drivers?’
‘No,’ she said, mounting the ladder, ‘I’ve an even better idea.’ She pushed open the hatch and clambered into the attic. Then she looked back down at Arthur waiting on the landing. ‘Are you coming or not?’
‘The last time I followed someone on a ladder it didn’t end very well, remember?’ he joked, climbing up. There was a little round window in the gable wall of the attic. Dust danced in the light shafts that poured in through it. The roof was low enough for Arthur to reach up and touch the rafters, but not low enough that he had to stoop to walk around. There was an old moth-eaten mattress, turned on its side, and a lot of cardboard boxes cluttered together against one wall. Ash was searching through one such box with ‘Toys’ written on it in black marker.
‘What are you looking for?’ he asked.
She ignored him and lifted the box she’d been looking through to one side with a sigh. She dragged out another box, also marked ‘Toys’, and searched through it, throwing old dolls and action figures behind her as she did.
‘Ash? What are you looking for?’
‘Yes!’ she exclaimed, finding what she needed, then turned back to Arthur. ‘Sorry. Anyway, I was saying that Miss Keegan likes it when we do something more interesting for her presentations. Thinking outside the box. So I thought to myself, what’s the best way to present the Metro to the class?’
