Pyramid Power (ARC)

by Dave Freer

  "You might have lost it in Midgard," said Thrúd practically, "but something of that value would end up in Jötunheim or among the dwarves. What would a Midgarder do with it?"

  "Use it in a smithy and break the anvil," said Thor, thoughtfully. "Loki would have got wind of it if were in Jötunheim. He might not tell us that, of course."

  "Right," said Liz. "Let's go and visit some dwarves, then."

  Chapter 27

  "I mean, take that Gylfaginning—the beguiling of Gylfi," said Fenrir sagely. "It's never really clear just who is beguiling who. The wordsmithing in that question and answer structure is confusing with all of the protagonists in the tale being kennings for Odin."

  Jörmungand rolled her eyes. "Oh please, brother! That's the entire point. The author was just trying to be clever."

  Liz found it something of a revelation about Loki, that his wolfish son and dragon daughter could and did argue interminably about Norse literature. It had been Loki who had insisted that they should learn to read, Liz discovered. Of course his tastes were antediluvian, and he was wrong about this, that and the next, but it was Loki who shaped them away from being mere creatures of the stomach like Bitar and Smitar.

  That would have been easier to deal with than the constant bickering about literary merit sometimes, though. At least Bitar and Smitar agreed about food occasionally.

  Still, listening on the sidelines while they traveled across this broad braided flood plain had taught Liz something about the dwarves they were heading for. They were maggots who had feasted on the flesh of the dead Ymir (whoever he was) but had acquired consciousness, and the appearance of men. They were artificers of precious metals and gems. The Norse didn't seem to have any objection to creatures that had, as far as Liz could see, the same origins as politicians and certain members of the legal fraternity. Jerry would have stretched that to bank managers as well. The thought of him made Liz's eyes prick with tears, to the extent that she nearly fell off her horse when it stopped, because the others had stopped.

  They'd come to a long, low bluff that ran along the edge of the wash of gravel. It was pockmarked with caves, or, as Liz suspected, delvings. Nothing came out of the first few that Thor bellowed into. But, after trying a fair number, they got a grumpy "What is it this time?"

  A short, stocky man peered out of a cave-mouth. His face was so sooty that it was nearly as black as his hair.

  "Are you the sons of Ivaldi?" asked Thor.

  Dirty face nodded. "One of them, yes. What do you want?"

  Fenrir leapt, knocked the son of Ivaldi down, and put his jaws around the dirty neck. The huge wolf's growl was low-pitched and menacing enough to make Liz's ears buzz.

  "Fenrir!" yelled Liz. "What are you doing?"

  "The chain that bound him was made by the sons of Ivaldi," said Jörmungand. "Brother is known to carry a grudge. I think that he's about to eat a dwarf smith. I think he should wash its hands first. You should always wash hands before eating."

  "It wasn't me!" squeaked the dwarf. "That was Dwalin."

  "And who might you be?" asked Jörmungand grimly.

  "Sindri."

  "Ah. Loki has some words to say to you."

  "Look. It was a long time ago. And it was a fair wager."

  "It was," rumbled Thor. "One of Loki's more impulsive and stupider ones, and he got out of paying it. And Fenrir, it wasn't this one that made the chain Gleipnir. Let him up. I want to ask if he has seen Mjöllnir, the hammer he made for me."

  Reluctantly, Fenrir let go, and stepped off the dwarf's back. "I'll go and sniff in these holes for this Dwalin. I've got the scent of you sons of Ivaldi now."

  "Dwalin guards his mine with magic," said the dwarf, rubbing his neck. "Anyway, he was just the craftsman doing the job he was hired to do. We didn't know what would get done with it."

  "You find the hole. I'll fill it with venom," said Jörmungand. "Even the maker must realize that there is price to be paid."

  "And I still want to know if you've seen Mjöllnir," said Thor.

  The dwarf shook his head. "It may have lost much of its virtue anyway in the time of fading, or you would be able to call it to you. But it does not lie among the dwarves. Someone would have told me if my workmanship had showed up."

  Thor sighed. "We'll just have to try elsewhere. You dwarves always seemed the most likely people to buy it. Well, we'd better move out."

  "What about them?" The dwarf pointed to Jörmungand and Fenrir, now checking out the next cave.

  "Their business," said Thor, with a shrug.

  "But... but... we thought they were your mortal enemies?" said the dwarf, betraying that he knew more about what was being done with their products in the wider mythworld than he'd been prepared to acknowledge.

  "We became drinking buddies and sorted out our differences. During the fading. And Fenrir was tricked with Gleipnir. He feels that it was no part of the dwarves' affairs to help to trap him."

  "It was a business transaction," protested Sindri.

  "Who paid for it? We thought you did it out of respect for the Æsir," said Thrúd.

  "Well, yes. We wouldn't have done it without respect. But business is business, you know. Dwalin is not a bad fellow. Besides, he owes me. If he gets killed he can hardly pay me back, can he?"

  "So who paid for it, then?" demanded Fenrir, pausing in his sniffing.

  "Odin. Like the spear and the boar and the hammer. All the treasures except for Sif's hair. Loki paid for that."

  Liz held up a hand. "Wait a minute. What hammer? Do I get this right? You made this hammer Thor's looking for?"

  "Yes. One of my best bits of work," said the dwarf, proudly, "even if it was a bit short in the handle."

  "How much for another one?" said Liz. "Just like the other one, but with the right length handle."

  "Um. Well the price would have to include leaving Dwalin alive. "

  "I think we would look for a suitable discount for that. And some blood-price, from this Dwalin. Fenrir could use a suitable collar. A protective one," said Thor.

  Jörmungand looked at the dwarf with a thoughtful eye. "Jewelry, or perhaps some fashion accessories," suggested Liz.

  * * *

  By the time they got back with a new hammer, a collar of protection against spears and arrows (with warranty) and a sea-jewel necklet that Liz badly envied, but in several sizes smaller, Loki was champing at the bit.

  Fenrir was dispatched to Utgardaloki, and Jörmungand to the hag of Jarnvid. And the rest set off for the well of Mirmir.

  Chapter 28

  It was a good thing that Jerry had made day-counting marks on the bark, because by now he really couldn't have told anyone, let alone himself, what day of the week it was. But on the appointed day, good and early, with the now severed noose around his neck like a neck-tie, Jerry swayed his way down the branch to the guard-house on the cliff edge. The last scraps of Idun's apple had either lost their charm or had run out of material to work on. The world was a vague place from which Jerry was going to tolerate no back-chat. The guards saluted respectfully. They even helped him up onto a horse.

  If only he'd learned to ride one of the damned things. It was a long way down the mountain and to the gates of Asgard. He better stay on the horse until he was out of sight of the guards.

  It was very awkward that two of them had respectfully accompanied him.

  The next thing Jerry knew was that he was looking up at Odin's face. The one-eyed god looked down sardonically. "You have enhanced my reputation for magic, sorcerer. And I daresay I will live down your equestrian skills. You really are a bit too powerful, just as the Krim-device implied. Maybe I need to give Mirmir two eyes and not just one, for his wisdom."

  He motioned to a thrall-woman. "Feed him. Then get Thjalfi to load him into the cart. We've a long journey ahead of us."

  Jerry was tied up again. But the thrall-woman was very good and patient at spoon-feeding him. And the gruel probably was the right thing for him to eat after his diet of
very few nuts, raw egg and a solitary half-apple.

  * * *

  Coming down the slope into the shadow of the great root you could see Mirmir's well clearly. It wasn't, as Liz had expected, a well in the conventional sense at all, complete with a little stone wall and a bucket. It was a natural "eye," a spring etched into the limestone. The green-looking water seethed and stirred and a thin haze of steam rose off the surface. Reeds grew on one edge, and a small lip overhung the other. Three little black figures stood at the edge of the lip.

  "What in Hel's name are you Norns doing here?" demanded Loki of the three hooded women.

  "We go where the fates dictate," croaked the bent one.

  "We go where we must for the deeds of now," said the middle one, in the voice of a mature woman.

  "Will dictate the future," finished the third, in a teen voice.

  "Oh, Niflheim," said Loki. "You have your own well! This isn't Urd's well at the root of the world-tree in Asgard, where you three dictate the fates of mankind and the gods. Go home."

  "We can't," said the three in chorus. "Nidhögg has driven us out."

  "I'll have words with him," said Loki, crossly. "Now, where is Mirmir?"

  "He didn't like what the future held for him," said the youngest Norn.

  "So he left," said the oldest.

  "And we have been waiting for you, here," added the middle Norn. "You're late."

  "As usual," said the youngest.

  Loki ground his teeth. "I don't suppose you can be persuaded to leave, and send Mirmir back?"

  "It would be of no use," said the oldest Norn. "Munin carried word to Odin. He knows we guard Mirmir's well now."

  "But we will leave," said the middle Norn. "We will even leave you with the horn to draw water from the holy well."

  "Is that a prophecy or an offer to negotiate?" asked Loki.

  "Both," announced the eldest Norn. "We have foreseen it."

  "Have you foreseen that if you're not out of here by the time I count to ten," Liz said, through gritted teeth, "that I am going to use this blunt instrument." She swung her shoulder-bag.

  Loki gaped at her. "They're the Norns, Liz. The fates. Urd, Verdani, and Skuld. You can't threaten them."

  Liz took a firm grip on the strap of her bag. "Watch me. I'm no believer in predestination, but if they are, they know what's coming. One."

  "Which is why we have agreed to go," said the youngest Norn. "Provided Loki takes us back."

  "Because our powers tell us that Nidhögg will listen to him, and him alone," said the middle one.

  Loki sighed. "Do you think you can manage without me? It won't be quite so easy. Mirmir could have persuaded Odin to part with Jerry. Now it'll have to be force."

  "Odin comes with a thousand Einherjar as an escort," said the youngest fate, linking arms with Loki. "Besides, Odin would know another power was close." She pointed a long forefinger at Liz. "We could have told you how they would have done it, but now these strangers must contrive on their own."

  Liz took a long, hard look at the youngest fate. "Sigyn, I think you'd better go along too. We'll manage. And I can tell that one's future without being a prophetess. She's trouble."

  * * *

  "So what are we going to do?" asked Lamont, after the Norns left.

  Liz shrugged. "A thousand of those types I met in that gin-palace-stag-party would be a bit much to handle, head on. So. Odin expects these chicks in hoods and drape-in-the-soup-sleeved outfits. We're going to oblige him. He was expecting them to demand an eye, and was planning to give them one of Jerry's. Let's push the boat out. We'll demand a sacrifice. These guys will drink mead made of someone's blood from what you were telling me. It's obviously lurking in their culture. So: we insist on Jerry being thrown into the well. It's more like a cenote than a well—there is a nice big lip and the water is pretty dark. I'll be waiting in the well, with one of those hollow reeds as a snorkel. We'll claim Jerry, give Odin his water, and let him go."

  "It could be a good plan, except for a couple of details," said Lamont.

  "Oh? Like what?"

  "Like the outfits."

  Liz started to swear, bit it off, suddenly realizing the age of her audience. "Sort out the reeds. We'll need at least two. I'll go after them."

  She set off at a rapid pace after Loki and Sigyn and the three Norns. She found them a few hundred yards down the trail, with the Norns coming out from behind a large rock, dressed in more typical Norse-mythworld women's clothing, each with their hooded garments in their hands. Now that you could see them, Urd was a tiny wrinkled crone, Verdani a woman with experience-lines around her fine eyes. And Skuld was jailbait. Pouting jailbait. They held out their hooded clothes.

  Liz was startled into pausing. "How did you know...?"

  "We know," said Skuld loftily. Somehow she managed to look down her nose at Liz, which was quite a feat, because she was tiny.

  Liz took a deep breath. "All right. Different rules for different places. I don't suppose you'd like tell me what is going to happen?"

  "No," said Urd. She prodded Loki with her stick. "Let's go, Son of Laufey."

  Loki held up his hands and shrugged. "They never tell you anything unless it is to make your life a misery, anyway, Liz."

  "Get on with you, Son of Laufey," said Verdani. "The one-eyed wanderer comes into my provence."

  "We'd better move then, Liz. Odin is nearly here. You'd better get back."

  So Liz hastened back to the rest of the party, inspecting the hooded outfits as she jogged, and realizing that she had a problem.

  The Norns were small. There was no way that most adults would fit in those outfits. Thrúd, or her... or Lamont weren't going to get into them with a shoehorn. Thor was not either, not even if they sewed all three outfits together. Besides the Norns had said something about Odin detecting another power—and Thor and Thrúd were powers, too. They'd better back off.

  She arrived back at the waiting group next to the well.

  "Where is Verdani's provence?" she panted.

  "The present," said Thrúd.

  "Ah," said Liz, as the situation became clearer to her. "Look, Odin must nearly be here. And we have a problem. These outfits are way too small for any of the adults. Or even for Emmitt."

  "I'll do it," said Ella. She pointed to Ty and Tolly, involved in one of their games that involved a lot of giggling and dodging. "You two! Dress! It's time you did something useful."

  "But..." said Lamont.

  "Somebody has to do it, Daddy," said Ella. Now that she had communication real or imagined, with her twin, and some shred of hope for her mother, the girl was beginning to come out of the shell that she'd constructed for herself. She'd taken to following Thrúd around. It had had an effect, not, by the look on Lamont Jackson's face, one he was altogether pleased with. Besides, Liz remembered, Marie had said that both girls flew at anything that vaguely smacked of acting.

  "We'll be in the water, Lamont. Right next to them."

  "Me too," said Thor.

  Liz shook her head. "Kids, scramble into these." She held out the clothes. "Thor, the Norns said that Odin would know if Loki was here. I think the same probably applies to you. And to Thrúd. So I'll need you to back off, with Emmitt. Up there somewhere? If we have trouble... well, you could throw a thunderbolt or two. Give us a chance to try to get the kids out."

  Thor folded his arms. "I do not flee from a fight."

  "Thor, we don't want this to be a fight! That's the whole point. Please?"

  "It's the right thing, Papa," said Thrúd. "And I can hear the sound of hooves."

  Reluctantly, Thor unbuckled his belt of strength and handed it to Lamont. "Take this. A mortal cannot long survive in a fight with the Ás, but it may give you the strength you need to flee Odin with the children."

  Lamont put around his waist. "I'm honored, Thor."

  "And I wish it was me," said Emmitt, enviously.

  "One day," said Thor, putting a hand on the boy's shoulders.


  Liz handed Thrúd her bag. "In a pinch, hit someone with it. And we'll need those reeds."

  "Fortunately we all cut some," said Thrúd, handing her a bunch of hollow reed stalks in exchange.

  "You're stars." Liz smiled, relaxing now that action was finally at hand. She knew you were supposed to get tense, but not doing something had been very hard. "We'd better get rid of some of these clothes," she said to Lamont. "And I hope you can swim."

  "I hope so too," said Lamont with a smile, patting Thor's belt. "Otherwise I'll be a strong drowner."

  Liz stepped out of her green skirt. "It's close enough to the color of the water. I'll take it with us. It'll do to hide behind."

  "Good thing that Thor has left," said Lamont. "I hate to think what he'd say about a man hiding behind a woman's skirts, especially when they were wearing his belt of strength."

  * * *

  Jerry approached the end of the journey with a mixture of terror and relief. On the relief side, the journey in the cart had ended. On the terror side, the food had given some clarity to his mind, even if he was woozy at times.

  If memory served him correctly, they were heading toward Mirmir's well, where Mirmir had made Odin pluck out one of his own eyes to gain a draft of the well of wisdom. Jerry was no fool. He could only see one reason for Odin taking him along, and it wasn't for his company.

  The walk down the steep slope was playing havoc with his eyes. He would have thought that they'd put up a better effort while he still had two! He wasn't even seeing double. He was seeing treble. Three little black-clad hooded figures, standing next to the water. And he'd have sworn that the smaller two were playing scissors-stone-paper.

  "Why have you brought warriors to Mirmir's well?" said a high girlish voice. "You know that it is not allowed."

  Odin turned to the Einherjar accompanying them. "Go back to the chariot. I thought Loki might be here but he isn't." He jerked Jerry's collar. "I can deal with this one on my own."

  As they advanced, Jerry saw that the hoods masked the Norn's faces in deep shadow, except for the tip of one nose. "Stop that," said the tallest Norn to the other two.