by Joan Holub
As she skied to a stop afterward to catch her breath, she heard clapping and cheering. Looking around, she noticed for the first time that she’d drawn a crowd. Grinning, she did a goofy bow, which started others laughing and clapping even louder.
“Dinner starts in an hour. Let’s head back, change into dry clothes, and put our ski stuff away,” Freya called to her.
“Sounds good,” Skade called back.
The girls quickly slipped off their skis, slung them across their sleds, and ambled off toward their dorm. Those around them had been visited by the acorn messengers too, and now she kept hearing the same words—ability, attitude, academics—drifting on the cold air. Everyone was thinking about the upcoming decisions that would be made regarding team members.
Suddenly Skade’s heart sank as a new thought came to her. No one could question her overall athletic abilities or her prowess as a skier. And she and Angerboda had probably rescued the attitude issue with their hugs.
But what about academics? Skade had always been an above-average student. Had today changed that, though? Mr. Sturluson had been pretty annoyed at her. What if her dance mess-up in Norse History caused her grade to take a hit? Could that disqualify her from competing in the ski competition?
4 The Team
ONCE INSIDE VINGOLF (THE GIRLS’ DORM), Freya slipped off her red-and-white-plaid boots and set them on one of the racks in the mudroom. Sif and Idun did the same with their boots. Skade was so busy worrying, she forgot to remove hers. She started to push through the next set of doors.
“Stop! Boots off,” her three podmates reminded her.
“Oops. I always forget,” said Skade.
“Yeah, we know,” Sif teased fondly.
Skade sent her friends a sheepish look. They were always tripping over the boots and ski equipment she left lying around the room they shared.
After she took off her boots and stashed her skis and sled, the four of them padded into the main communal room in their woolen socks. A cheerful fire burned in a pit at the room’s center, its smoke venting through a hole in the roof. They bypassed the game tables, reading nooks, and gathering spaces positioned around the roaring fire and made a beeline for their room. It was one of eighteen sleeping pods of various sizes, which were spaced all along the edge of the circular main room, like petals growing outward from the center of a flower.
The four girls heard giggles as they traipsed by a pod. There were six light-elves inside, all twirling in circles and having so much fun they didn’t notice them pass. Each pod contained hammocklike podbeds and closets for four to eight girls, one small window, and a large floor rug woven with the big initials AA, for Asgard Academy.
“You look worried,” Idun noted, searching Skade’s expression as they trooped into their pod. The fire was making the dorm rather warm, so Sif went to open the shutters over their window to let in some air.
Skade flicked a glance at Idun, shrugging. “I just wish I knew for sure if I’m going to get into the competition. I mean, I know I’ll qualify on athletics. I’m the girlgoddess of skiing after all. But that’s only one third of what I need. And sports are so important to me, you know? I really, really want to be on the team.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea!” said Freya. Standing in the center of their podroom, she lifted her hand toward the nine necklaces that hung in a big, swoopy smile shape across her chest from one shoulder strap of her dress to the other. Each held a drawstring pouch that contained a curious object of some sort. Inside one, there was a cat’s-eye marble that could magically transform into a flying cart pulled by two gray tabby cats!
Only one of the necklaces didn’t hold a pouch, and it was Freya’s favorite. Made of hammered gold, it had fancy designs and was decorated with small, winking rubies and diamonds. From its center dangled a teardrop-shaped, walnut-size jewel named Brising.
“Even though I’m sure the answer will be yes,” Freya said to Skade, “I’ll ask Brising if you’re going to be chosen for the competition. Then you can stop worrying.”
Brising was a magical jewel with the power to speak fortunes. Grasping it, she now asked: “Brising, will Skade be chosen for the ski team?”
Freya cocked her head to listen for the jewel’s reply, then frowned, looking a little confused. Since only she could hear Brising’s rhyming predictions, she repeated its words aloud for her podmates a moment later. “Brising says:
‘Skade has an excellent chance,
if only she could learn to dance.’ ”
Idun looked up from removing her wet wool mittens. “Dance?” she echoed.
“Yeah, I don’t get it. How would dancing help her?” Sif asked as she opened her closet to change from her damp hangerock into a dry one.
“I’ll ask,” Freya said. Then she repeated Sif’s question to her magic jewel.
Skade stayed mum, waiting to see what the jewel would say, but apparently Brising had nothing more to share. Freya let the now-silent jewel fall back to rest on the front of her hangerock and looked curiously over at Skade as she went to her small closet to change clothes.
Should I tell my friends about today’s dancing disaster? Skade wondered.
Before she could decide, Freya spoke up again. “Wait! Does this have anything to do with the Norse History dancing Mr. Sturluson has had us all doing in his classes?”
Sif’s eyes lit up almost as bright as her golden hair. “Ooh! That’s been sooo fun. But, yeah, what is Brising talking about? What’s dancing got to do with being chosen for the competition?”
After pulling off her sweater and poking her head through the neck of fresh one, Skade shot her friends a nervous glance. But still she said nothing.
Freya blinked at her. “Well?”
“Um, what Brising said probably has something to do with my history grade, actually,” Skade admitted at last. “Mr. Sturluson didn’t like my dancing today. Not at all. Thought I was making fun of traditional Norse dancing. And the Traditions and Rituals unit is a quarter of our semester grade.”
“You can’t dance?” Sif asked, looking stunned by this information.
Skade sighed. “Apparently not.” With that, she sat on her hammock and flopped onto her back with an air of doom. Either end of the six-foot-long podbed was attached by ropes to sturdy hooks in the ceiling, and her weight sent it swaying. The dorm’s podbeds were in fact giant seedpods, minus the seeds. Where once a seed had nestled, now a girl slept. As did the boys over in their dorm, Breidablik.
After hanging up her mittens to dry, Idun grinned at Skade. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Going over to her, Idun gently bumped her hammock with her knee.
Skade sighed. “Wish I was.”
Idun’s eyes widened. “But…but you’re an athlete. And dancing’s easy.”
“Maybe for you guys,” Skade said dejectedly.
“But you should be a natural at dance,” Sif added, coming over too. “You’ve always been able to make any sport look easy.”
Considering this, Skade let out another big sigh. “Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I think of dancing like a sport I’m trying to win?”
“Hmm. Makes sense,” said Freya. “Why don’t you try to go with the flow instead? Relax. Feel the beat of the music. C’mon, we’ll show you.”
“All right.” Leaping up enthusiastically, Skade scurried for the door. “I’ll go get my boots.”
“Wait! It’ll probably be easier to learn in just your socks,” said Freya.
“Boots are pretty clunky for dancing lessons,” Idun explained.
Sif nodded in agreement, causing her long, golden metallic hair to swing at her shoulders.
Turning back, Skade studied her roomies as they began singing a well-known Norse song and dancing around the room to its beat. Leaping, clapping, and shimmying, they made the steps look so easy. And fun! After watching a few minutes, Skade joined in, trying to mimic parts of what they were doing. At times, three of them would boogie in a circle and one would jump into the middle of i
t to twirl and whirl like a star. They’d take turns showing off a move, then the others would try copying it.
“You’re getting better already, Skade!” Freya declared breathlessly when they were done.
“Yeah!” Sif and Idun agreed.
“Yeah?” Skade echoed. She looked at her friends’ faces, all rosy from exertion, and saw they were telling the truth. Maybe she wasn’t doomed after all. “You know, I think this dancing stuff might help me with balance and style, which would come in handy for skiing. Plus, it’s kinda fun.”
“So maybe you’ll even go to the school dance this Saturday night with us?” Sif suggested.
“I was just thinking I might!” said Skade, already feeling more confident. However her friends’ insistence that she was dancing “better” didn’t mean she now excelled at it. So, before they could get too excited, she added, “We’ll see, though.”
All the exercise they’d had that day had worked up the girls’ appetites. So although it was a little early for dinner, they headed for the school cafeteria, known as the Valhallateria.
As they walked along the fernway, Skade had new pep in her step. The competition wasn’t till Saturday. Tomorrow was Friday, so hopefully during class she’d be able to show Mr. Sturluson how hard she was working to master some dance moves. Realizing how much she was trying, he’d just have to give her a passing grade. Which would surely fix any academic concerns Odin and Ms. Frigg might have. And seal the deal on sending her to Jotunheim to compete on the AA team!
When the girls came to a place where the path narrowed, Skade dropped back a few steps to walk behind her friends. She practiced some of the moves they’d shown her, dance-walking and humming a little song. Suddenly she heard voices at some distance behind her. A group of boys were coming up the same path to the Valhallateria, and they’d been watching her practice!
Njord laughed. “I told you. She’s terrible, right?”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” snickered Loki. “Totally like a crazed polar bear.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw those two boys mock her movements. Confident Skade would have confronted them about their mean behavior. But not-so-confident-now Skade just walked on, feeling like she’d been punched in the gut.
“Knock it off, guys. She’s not that bad. And I think she might’ve heard you,” said a third voice. Balder’s.
Skade’s feelings were so hurt she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t let them know she’d heard. It would be too embarrassing. After a few seconds anger began to simmer inside her, mixing with the hurt. How dare they make fun of her! Unsure how to handle these confusing feelings, she stuffed them deep down inside to think about later when she was alone. Catching up to her three podmates, she joined in their chatting the rest of the way to the Valhallateria.
Once inside, they walked past tables and chairs that had legs made out of bent metal spears. The chairs’ backs and seats were formed from two thick wooden shields set at right angles. And the superhigh ceiling was tiled with hundreds more shields and spears made of shiny, dazzling gold.
Fantastic wooden friezes, which were basically huge sculpted paintings done in bright colors, covered the cafeteria’s walls. The carved scenes showed hundreds of heroic-looking warriors feasting and marching. The Valhallateria was truly awesome! Just the sight of it and the smell of food lifted Skade’s mood.
Right away, she and her friends headed for the goat-shaped ceramic fountain standing on a table in the middle of the room. It stood upon a pedestal shaped like a stout tree trunk. Green-painted leaves formed a flat, rectangular tabletop below it. Although it was early, many students were already here. No doubt everyone was extra hungry from their exercise on the slopes today.
Usually, cool, tart, sparkly apple juice poured out of spigots on all sides of the goat into a trough. But now the juice spilling from it was so hot, it was steaming. Skade stared at it in surprise, then looked over at Idun questioningly. This juice was made daily from her golden apples of youth. She tended the grove where they grew and was the only one who could pick the apples. If anyone else tried, the apples would wither and die!
Idun grinned, “getting” Skade’s silent question. “Since it’s extra cold today and most everyone has been outside in the snow, I thought hot apple cider would be appreciated.”
“You’re so right,” said Sif. The girls all grabbed hrimkalders—short cups with rounded bottoms—and filled them.
Skade blew on her cider to cool it a bit, then took a sip. “Mmm, that’s yummy,” she said, closing her eyes and smiling. A warm feeling filled her, soothing the hurt from Njord’s and Loki’s earlier comments.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell on a small glass dome affixed to a tall, square wooden column beyond the goat fountain. There was a large button under it labeled with the words:
X540
Push only
in the event
of Ragnarok
X540 referred to an alarm—540 blasts—that would sound loudly enough to warn all nine worlds if the doomsday known as Ragnarok ever came about. Skade shuddered just thinking about that scary possibility.
“What’s up with you and Njord?” asked Freya, nodding toward where he sat at a table with Loki, Balder, and some other boygods. “He’s staring at you.”
Before she could think better of it, Skade glanced over at Njord. For a fraction of a second, their gazes met. She bugged her eyes out at him, then looked away.
“Nothing. I don’t know what his problem is. He’s just started…annoying me all the time,” she told Freya. Thinking of how he’d teased her about her dancing in class and also on the fernway a few minutes ago made that punch-to-the-stomach feeling flare up again. Quickly she took another sip of her cider.
“C’mon, let’s go sit,” said Sif, gesturing at a nearby table.
“I think I’m going to file Njord in the weasel category along with Loki. In my head, I mean,” Skade said to her friends as they walked over to claim a table. Abruptly recalling that Njord and Freya had both come to AA from the same village in Vanaheim, she glanced over at Freya, hoping that Njord wasn’t a close friend of hers.
“Why?” Idun asked in surprise. “What did he do exactly?”
Shrugging, Skade set her drink on the table and pulled out a chair as her friends were doing. “He just…you know…teased me.”
Freya’s blue eyes lit up. “Hmm. Boys often tease the girls they like. You do know that, right?”
“He does not like me. I’m positive of that.” Skade stared at Freya, not wanting to explain that Njord’s teasing had not been the cute friendly kind, but rather the mean kind. At least, it had felt that way to her. Still, her friends didn’t look convinced.
“Well, maybe he’s jealous of your skill at sports?” suggested Sif. “He’s pretty competitive, I think.”
Skade let out a long sigh, not really wanting to admit that he had mocked her dancing.
To her relief, her friends got distracted when a boygod named Honir called to her just then from two tables away. “Hey, Skade, think you’re going to make the team?” She looked over to see a group of boys seated with him that included Frey and Ull.
“Does a bear poop in the woods?” Skade replied, grinning at Honir. Then she crossed her fingers behind her back since she wasn’t really as confident as she’d pretended to be.
Honir looked confused. “What does bear poop have to do with getting on the ski team? Yuck. I hope I don’t step in any on the way to Jotunheim. ’Cause I bet you and me and Ull will all make the team.” Honir was a little (okay, a lot) clueless sometimes. However, he was one of the top skiers at the academy, so he was likely right to assume he’d be chosen to compete.
“Ew!” said Freya, scrunching her nose at Honir, and then at Skade. “New rule. No poop talk in the cafeteria. Or anywhere else.” Which made Skade, Idun, and Sif laugh.
“Honir’s right, though,” Sif told Skade. “You two and Ull are probably AA’s top skiers, so the thr
ee of you are bound to make the team. I mean, even if you aren’t a dancing star yet, I think Odin and Ms. Frigg will give you a pass. Especially after you show Mr. Sturluson tomorrow in class that you’re getting better and trying.”
“Hey! Want me to help you put together the perfect outfit for the competition?” Freya asked Skade eagerly. Her eyes went slightly out of focus, and a dreamy look filled them as her imagination stirred. “I can see it now. I could lend you my brown-and-gold tunic. The one with faux fur sewn on the shoulders. It’ll go great with your olive green leggings.”
Idun giggled. “Trust the girlgoddess of love and beauty to be thinking fashion forward thoughts about a sports event. That outfit does sound cute, though.”
It was true. Not only could Freya put together amazing looks with the contents of her closet, but she could also design and sew clothes and accessories. She had more outfits than anyone else they knew!
“That sounds perfect,” Skade told her. “Thanks. Ooh! I’m getting more and more excited about the competition.” Of course she’d be chosen, she told herself, like everyone figured. But who would the other eight be?
Just then, Odin and Ms. Frigg entered the Valhallateria. A surprised hush fell over the room since they rarely came here.
“Students of Asgard Academy! May we have your attention for an announcement?” Odin called out grandly. “We have chosen the nine who will go to the Jotunheim Ski Games.”
Skade’s eyes widened as gasps and murmurs filled the room. “What?” she whispered. “But… but…” Like the others, she’d assumed this announcement wouldn’t be made until tomorrow after classes.
From all around her came the sound of chairs scraping the floor. Everyone hopped up in excitement and moved to surround the coprincipals so they’d be able to hear better. She crossed her fingers, hope, hope, hoping.
