Gods of the North

by Lucy Coats

The old anger rose up in Demon’s chest, driving out any fear. “Poor Hydra,” he said, stroking the green head that was lovingly draped over his shoulder. “Horrible Heracles chopped off all its heads, so I had to stick them back on. I couldn’t get rid of the scars, though.” He kept his fingers crossed, praying that none of the gods would ask how he’d done it. He still wasn’t sure that using one of Hera’s magic golden apples had been entirely legal—and there was the worry that the tiny drip of juice that he had licked off his finger had made him a bit more immortal than he should be. Nobody knew about that—and Demon wanted to keep it that way.

  “Impressive,” said Odin, and Demon glowed. He didn’t often get praise from a god.

  Then Zeus made him show them everything in the hospital shed.

  “What’s that?” Frey asked, pointing to the silver box that stood, shiny and polished, in the center of the operating table.

  “This is the magic medicine box Hephaestus made me, Your Gloriousness. Say hello, box,” Demon said, tapping it. The magic medicine box let out a sudden stream of sparks and started to glow blue, making Frey jump a little.

  “Exiting standby mode,” it said. “Please wait.” A tiny rainbow circle began to spin in its lid, then went out.

  “State nature of medical problem,” it said in its usual tinny voice. Demon sighed.

  “Just greet the gods nicely, please,” he said, trying not to sound cross.

  The box emitted a rude raspberry sound. Demon went bright red.

  “I’m so sorry, Your Magnificent Majesties,” he said. “I think it might have picked up another bug. I’ll take it back to Hephaestus.” Grabbing a linen cloth, he threw it over the box, hiding it. He knew perfectly well it didn’t really have a bug. It was just being its usual grumpy self.

  “We’ve seen enough,” said Zeus. “If you can promise me that your assistant is capable of handling things in your absence, Pandemonius, then I think you may go to Asgard. I am very pleased with you, indeed.”

  “Th-thank you, Your Tremendous Thunderiness,” he said, dropping to his knees as Zeus stretched down a hand to pat the top of his head.

  “I think I’d better give you the gift of the tongues of men and gods,” he said. “Not everyone in Asgard will speak our language as well as Odin and the rest of our visitors.” A sharp tingle ran through Demon’s scalp, and his brain suddenly felt as if it had stretched to twice its size. He reached up a hand to check, but his head seemed to be the normal shape it always had been.

  Zeus turned to Odin.

  “I’d better send my sister Demeter with you, too,” he said. “She’s good at crops and all that. And she’s always a bit down when Persephone’s with Hades. A trip to Asgard will cheer her up.”

  “It’s settled, then,” said Odin. “Now let’s go and find some more of Dionysus’s brew. I must persuade him to tell me how he makes it.” He looked at Demon. “Go and pack, young Pandemonius. We leave at dawn.”

  The cloud ship was ready, rocking in the small breeze. Demon clutched a bag of the warmest things he’d been able to lay his hands on, plus the magic medicine box, his dad’s pipes, and all the supplies he thought he might need. He’d even borrowed a bit of Hestia’s fire, just in case.

  “I hear it’s cold up there,” said Melanie the naiad as he was saying his goodbyes to everyone. “You might need a cloak.”

  “Bring me back a nice bit of meat,” said the griffin, giving him a sharp peck of farewell.

  “Don’t worry,” said Bion. “I’ll take care of everyone.”

  As the Asgardians came down from Zeus and Hera’s palace, Demon felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see his dad standing there, looking uncharacteristically worried.

  “You take care up there, my boy,” Pan said, bending down to give him a god hug that smelled, as usual, of pungent green things, blood, and old goaty musk.

  “I will, Your Dadness,” he said.

  But Pan hadn’t finished. “Your mother had a dream about you a few nights ago. She made me swear to warn you not to go anywhere near any dark ice caves. Apparently she saw you in one—and you were in danger. I won’t be able to help you in the North. It’s too far for the pipes to reach if you’re in trouble.”

  “I’ll take care,” Demon promised. “I’ve got my phoenix feather and some sandalwood with me, in case of dire emergencies. Look!” He peeled back the shoulder of his tunic to show the precious things bound against his chest with a linen bandage.

  “That’s good,” said his dad. “Glad to see you’re prepared for anything, my boy.”

  As Demon walked away, a little shiver trailed a cold finger down his spine. He didn’t fancy the idea of a dangerous dark ice cave one little bit.

  Just as he was about to go aboard the ship, Zeus beckoned him over.

  “Behave yourself, and don’t let me down, Stable Master,” he said. “Or I may just give you to Eagle for a snack.” Eagle was on his shoulder and clacked its beak menacingly, right by Demon’s ear.

  Demon walked onto the ship, feeling a bit lost. He stood at the stern, looking back as Olympus faded into the distance, wondering how long he’d be gone, and if Bion would manage on his own. There was no turning back now, though. He was on his own.

  CHAPTER 5

  THRUD

  Demon soon left the stern and went forward to stand at the prow, which was shaped like the jaws of a ravening wolf. He’d only been there for a short while, marveling at the cloudscapes that spread out before him, when the deck started to shake, and he heard the unmistakable sound of godly footsteps behind him. Whirling around, he saw the god with the huge hammer approaching. What should he do? Should he bow? Should he fall to his knees? He didn’t know how to act around these new deities at all. In the end, he compromised, going to one knee and bowing his head.

  “Hey!” said the god, in a voice like the clang of swords. “None of that, young Pandemonius. Get up and face me like a man!”

  Demon scrambled to his feet. “S-sorry, Your Humongous Hammeriness,” he said.

  “We don’t go in for all that bowing and scraping in the North,” the god continued, sticking out a massive iron-gloved hand toward Demon. “I’m Thor, by the way. Champion of Asgard.”

  Demon stuck out his own hand rather timidly. When Thor took it and shook it, though, Demon shot up high into the air and was only just caught by the cloud sails.

  “By Odin’s eye!” said Thor, unhooking his hammer. “I forget my own strength sometimes. Fetch, Mjolnir!” With that he flung his hammer right at Demon. Before Demon had even had time to duck, the hammer had curled around his body like a huge hand and flown him back down to the deck at Thor’s feet.

  “Hmm,” said Thor, looking at him. “I think I’d better get my daughter, Thrud, to sort you out when we get to Asgard. She’s more your size.”

  The first thing that Demon noticed was that Asgard was FREEZING! It was also very gloomy. There was snow on the ground, and everything had big, fat icicles dangling from it. Although he’d already put on all the clothes he’d brought, he began to shiver almost immediately, and his toes started to go numb. The only spot of warmth he had was the phoenix feather bound to his chest, which seemed to be sending out a small pulse of heat that he was very thankful for.

  All the gods and goddesses pushed past him and hurried off the cloud ship as soon as it landed, so Demon was left lost and not knowing where to go. Dragging his belongings toward the nearest building, he stumbled along, hugging himself and wishing he’d never heard of Asgard. How was he supposed to cure Goldbristle if he didn’t even know where the poor beast was to be found?

  Then it got worse. Snow started to fall, thick fluffy flakes of it covering his head and shoulders in seconds. Demon could see nothing. Suddenly, he heard a shout just by his left ear.

  “Hey! Are you Pandemonius?”

  “Y-y-yes,” he tried to say, but his teeth were chattering so hard, he could hardly get the word out. A hand grabbed his arm and yanked him through a door, into a larg
e room full of firelight. The wooden walls gave off the fragrant scent of pine, which mixed with the delicious smells coming from a large cauldron on the fire. Demon blinked the snow out of his eyes and saw a girl standing in front of him. She had hair the color of ripe corn, tied into a multitude of braids, and she wore a long cloak of blue heron feathers lined with fluffy down, over a thick woolen tunic and breeches.

  “Hello,” she said. “I’m Thrud Thorsdaughter. My dad sent me to take care of you.” She looked Demon up and down, her eyes widening. “Are those really all the clothes you wear on Olympus?” she asked.

  Demon nodded. “I-it’s a lot w-warmer there,” he said, through his chattering teeth. “And p-please c-call me D-Demon.”

  Thrud rummaged in a chest and pulled out a blanket. “Wrap this around you and help yourself to soup, Demon,” she said, pointing to the cauldron. Then, with a flash of blue feathers, she was gone.

  By the time Demon had eaten three bowls of soup and unfrozen his toes a bit, she was back.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting a bundle of clothes at him, along with a warmer pair of wool-lined boots. “Put these on. Then I’ll show you around and take you to Goldbristle.”

  It was blissful to be warm again, Demon thought, wiggling his fingers in his sheepskin mittens. He had the magic medicine box under one arm, and his sack of supplies over his shoulder. Thrud was striding ahead of him, pointing things out.

  “That’s Valhalla,” she said as they passed a huge hall full of lights and loud laughter, with a golden tree growing outside it. “Where the heroes and the Valkyrie shield-maidens have a permanent party. I’m not allowed in there, really.”

  She turned toward Demon. “They can get a bit rowdy and rude,” she said, grinning, and then she sighed. “All I want is to be a shield-maiden, but first I have to do a brave deed to prove myself worthy.”

  But Demon wasn’t listening properly. He had spotted an enormous stag and a nanny goat, standing on top of the hall, nibbling on the branches of the golden tree. From the stag’s golden antlers poured a glistening stream of crystal water.

  “Hello,” he called up. “I’m Demon from Olympus.”

  The stag turned its immense head. “I am Oakthorn,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Demon-from-Olympus.” Then he went back to nibbling.

  The goat, however, leaped down. “I’ve heard about you,” she said, butting Demon gently in the leg. “You’re the one who cured my old friend Amaltheia, aren’t you?” Demon nodded. “Well, mind you do the same for poor Goldbristle. I’m tired of living in the dark.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Demon said as he and Thrud walked on.

  Thrud was looking at him in amazement. “Do you really know the language of all animals?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Demon said. “It’s because of my dad, I think.” And he explained about Pan being the god of the forest and the wild beasts. Just then, they passed the biggest tree Demon had ever seen in his life.

  “Whoa!” he said, stopping to gaze up and up and up. “That’s some tree!”

  “That’s Yggdrasil, the Great Ash,” said Thrud, stroking the smooth gray-green bark. “It holds the worlds together.” Then her eyes narrowed as a flash of flaming red darted among its branches, leaping from twig to twig.

  “And that,” she said with a frown, “is Ratatosk. We can all understand him!”

  Ratatosk, Demon saw, was a huge red squirrel.

  “Ooh! Ooh! A new visitor,” he chattered. “I must spread the word!” And with that, he disappeared up the trunk and out of sight.

  “Don’t ever listen to Ratatosk’s tall stories,” Thrud instructed Demon. “He’s a terrible tattletale and a liar, and he spreads gossip all around Asgard. Why, he even told on me once for borrowing Dad’s hammer, and I was only thinking about it.”

  Demon looked at her. “Maybe he just exaggerates a bit,” he said.

  Thrud looked at him, a dark glint in her eyes. “Just you wait till he tells some awful fib about you, and you get threatened with scrubbing the ice off Odin’s throne for it,” she said.

  Demon laughed. “Poseidon threatened to make me scrub salt off seaweed for a hundred years, once,” he said.

  “That’s not as bad as the time Loki tricked me into polishing every icicle in Asgard,” she said. “He’s my uncle, but you’d better watch out for him, too. Dad says he’s a dangerous maniac!”

  Her eyes went big and round.

  “He caused a terrible fight among all the gods not long ago, and Odin All-Father had to lock him up in prison. Dad says he’s threatened to take his revenge on all of Asgard.”

  By the time they got to Goldbristle’s stable, they had traded many stories about awful things the gods had threatened them with, and were on the road to being firm friends.

  As soon as Demon saw the boar, his heart sank. The beast was nearly as big as a wagon, and it was lying on its side, with tears flowing out from under its long, pale piggy eyelashes and over its long, brutal-looking tusks. It gave off a sickly greenish-golden glow, and it was groaning piteously. Frey was sitting in the straw, stroking its hairy ears.

  “He’s even worse than when we left,” said Frey. “The whole of Asgard is counting on you to cure him, Pandemonius.”

  It was a big responsibility. Demon examined Goldbristle all over, but there was nothing obvious wrong. He tapped the magic medicine box.

  “Wake up, box,” he said. “We have a patient.” The box glowed blue all over and gave a sort of quiver.

  “State nature of ailment,” it said in its tinny voice.

  “Goldbristle’s light has gone out,” Demon said. “Maybe it’s a bit like the problem we had with the Cretan Bull.” The Cretan Bull had lost its fire when horrible Heracles dragged it through the sea.

  The box snapped open, and out whipped a series of thin bright blue tentacles with suckers all down them, which attached themselves all over Goldbristle’s body, including one that probed inside his mouth.

  “What are THOSE?” Demon asked. The box had never produced anything like that before.

  “Upgrade 2.1, copyright Hephaestus Productions,” said the box. “Now initiating test mode.”

  On its lid, a tiny rainbow began to whirl around and around, filling the stable with color. Demon, Frey, and Thrud waited in a breathless silence that went on, and on, and on …

  “Hurry up, box,” Demon said eventually. “We haven’t got all day.” With a loud pop, the suckers detached themselves and shot back inside.

  “Running diagnostics,” it said.

  “What’s it saying?” Thrud asked. With a start, Demon realized she couldn’t understand it. He’d been speaking Asgardian without even noticing, but the box didn’t have the same gift.

  “Nothing important yet,” he said. But as he spoke, the box spat out some blue sparks.

  “Patient suffering from Porcine Skotadilitiriotitis,” it said.

  Demon glared at it. “Explain properly,” he said.

  “Also known as Piggy Darkness Poison,” it said rather snarkily. “No cure ingredients in medicine cache at this time.”

  “What do you mean, no cure ingredients in medicine cache?” Demon asked. His stomach felt as if a big lump of snow had just landed in it. “There must be something we can do.”

  A blue tentacle shot out and rummaged in Demon’s pack, coming out with the tiny lidded silver cauldron in which he was keeping Hestia’s fire. Before Demon could do more than open his mouth, the magic medicine box had swallowed it, and then spat out a small golden bottle that glowed a bright hot orange.

  “Temporary alleviation of symptoms only,” said the box. “Correct cure ingredients may be available locally.”

  “What correct cure ingredients?” Demon asked. “And where do I find them?”

  But the box had shut itself down and refused to respond.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE WHITE FOX

  Very carefully, because his tusks were sharp, Demon tipped half the potion down Goldbristle’s throat, think
ing furiously. The box hadn’t said there wasn’t a cure—just that the right ingredients might be available locally. That meant that there must be something here in Asgard—he just had to find it.

  As the last drop of fiery liquid dribbled in, Goldbristle started to glow a little brighter, then brighter still, till the stall was bathed in a warm golden light.

  Thrud clapped. “Look, Uncle Frey! He’s done it!” she crowed.

  “Well done, Pandemonius,” said the god as Goldbristle lumbered to its feet and grunted.

  Demon turned to look up at the great boar. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Not so good,” said Goldbristle. “My light still feels as if it’s all dissolving into nothing.”

  “Did you eat or drink something bad?”

  The bristly head shook from side to side. “No, but my dreams are full of darkness eating the world,” it said.

  mon met the round black eyes, shiny as beetle wings and framed in long, thick lashes.

  “I’ll find a cure for you if it’s the last thing I do,” he promised.

  He turned to Frey. “I don’t think you’d better take Goldbristle out just yet, Your Golden Magnificence,” he said.

  Frey frowned, and it was like the sun going behind a cloud. “Why not? You’ve cured him, haven’t you? He will keep on getting brighter, won’t he?”

  Demon shook his head. “It’s only temporary,” he said. “I don’t know how long it will last. He might go out again at any minute.”

  Frey frowned again. “Then I must take advantage of his light while I can,” he said. “Help me harness him up.”

  Reluctantly, Demon did as he was told.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Goldbristle as the enormous beast lumbered out of the stable, with Frey in the golden chariot behind it. But the shining boar was already rising into the sky and didn’t hear him.

  Immediately, the whole of Asgard began to sparkle like one big diamond. Demon had to half close his eyes till they adjusted.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” said Thrud, clapping her hands and leaping about. She picked up a big handful of soft snow, shaped it into a ball, and threw it at him.