by Joan Holub
After entering the cafeteria, the ten of them passed three very long dining tables. Each consisted of a series of rectangular tabletops that were actually flat, smooth slabs of stone set end to end so that they ran the length of the room. Strong, thick wooden posts supported these tabletops. And dozens and dozens of tree stumps, each cut to about two feet in height, sat on the floor around each table, serving as stools for diners. At one end of the room there was a large stage that was used for school plays, speeches, and ceremonies.
Right away, Angerboda and Skade led the other eight Asgard Academy students toward the open firepit at the center of the Gruntery. There they found several large black iron cauldrons full of a bubbling stew. Ladles hung from the cauldrons’ sides, and bowls, mugs, and pitchers were stacked on a low wall that surrounded the firepit. Teams from the various worlds had begun to gather there to fill bowls with stew and afterward wander over to the tables to eat. Dogs roamed freely throughout the cafeteria. Some were sleeping on the stone floor near the firepit to stay warm.
“As you can see, there’s stew for dinner tonight. Looks like it’s our choice of veggie, chicken, or bean,” Skade said, gesturing at each of the cauldrons in turn. And there’s buttermilk in those pitchers to drink, so grab a mug.”
“What? No rabbit stew?” teased a voice behind her. Skade looked over her shoulder to see Skrymir grinning at her.
“So? You’ll survive without it,” Angerboda told him gruffly. If she remembered that nickname, she hadn’t let on. But just in case, Skade didn’t explain Skrymir’s comment. She didn’t want anyone else to start teasing her too!
Ignoring Skrymir, Skade quickly filled a bowl and a mug. “C’mon, let’s get a table,” she suggested to her teammates as soon as they’d gotten their food and drink. Leading the way, she motioned for them all to follow. Freya, Yanis, and Balder remained near the cauldrons, however, chatting with newcomers.
She overheard Balder asking a dwarf what his cave school at Darkalfheim was like. Freya was telling a Midgardian human girl about the powers of her magic jewel, Brising. And Yanis was showing a dance move to a frost girlgiant. Those three were like goodwill ambassadors for Asgard Academy, all busy making new friends from other worlds as they came by to dip out stew. If Odin was using his telescope to observe them right now, he must be so pleased.
Skade settled on a stool at one end of their chosen table. “Oof,” Ull complained when he plopped down on one of the wooden stumps across the table from her. “These seats are not nearly as comfy as the ones at the Valhallateria.”
Thor and Honir sat on either side of him. “At least they’re the right height for us, though, instead of giant-size,” said Thor. “Kind of surprised about that, since this is a school for giants.”
“Yeah, out on the slopes today, some giants enlarged to their giant-size selves,” Njord remarked as he sat by Skade, while Angerboda and Malfrid took the stools to the left of him. “In here, all of them shrank themselves, though.”
Skade pointed her spoon toward a sign high on the wall, directing his attention there. Reciting what it said by memory, she said, “No giant-sizing allowed in the Gruntery.”
She was about to explain further, but just then Freya and Yanis arrived at their table having torn themselves away from the new friends they’d been making over at the cauldrons. Skade reached for a roll as Freya sat diagonally across from her by Thor, while Yanis sat by Malfrid.
On top of each long table, at intervals of every five feet or so, sat a cutting board with a large round of orange cheese, assorted knives and forks, and several loaves of fresh bread and butter. It was a feast!
While Skade buttered her roll, she went on to explain the reason for the sign. “I’ll tell you why giant-sizing isn’t allowed in here. Think about it. If we giants eat while we’re large, we’d require bigger tables and stools, which is a waste of resources. Also it would take way more to feed us and more time for us to gobble stuff down.”
“Makes sense,” said Freya. After taking a bite of stew, she murmured, “Yum, this is good.”
“Where are the cafeteria ladies?” asked Yanis, looking around.
“There aren’t any. Jotunheim students take turns making food, setting tables, and doing cleanup,” Angerboda informed her. Tonight, they’d placed bowls on the tables containing an assortment of raw fruits such as wild plums, apples, cherries, and pears, as well as vegetables such as cabbage, onions, leeks, turnips, and peas.
All around the AA team, other students began eating the minute they found tables and sat, obviously super hungry from skiing and traveling here earlier in the day. Soon loud smacking and slurping sounds started up—sounds that were not coming from their table. Skade’s teammates looked around in surprise.
“What in Odin’s name is that noise?” Thor asked quizzically.
“Sounds like we’re at a pig farm,” said Njord, his eyebrows rising.
Angerboda glared at him.
Grinning, Skade nodded to indicate some nearby tables, where giants were eating with their mouths full…and wide open. Slurp, grunt, snort, burp.
“Ugh.” Freya wrinkled her nose at the way they were eating.
“What’s up with the bad manners?” Balder asked, arriving just then to take a seat by Freya, across the table from Yanis.
“In Jotunheim, growling and grunting while eating is a way of showing appreciation for the food,” Angerboda huffed. “It’s good manners.”
“I get it! So that must be why this cafeteria is called the Gruntery!” said Honir.
Angerboda pointed the tip of her fork at him and nodded as if to say, You’re right.
“Not sure I want to eat like that,” murmured Yanis doubtfully. “Do I have to? I mean, is it actually considered rude here not to?”
“No, but it’s kind of fun snort to use bad manners just this once, if you’ve never tried it before. You know slurp, like grunty-grunt I am doing right now burp,” said Angerboda as she noisily gobbled her stew.
This made the others laugh. They began to copy her, giggling all the while. To Skade’s surprise, a genuine smile lit Angerboda’s face. But then, as if fearing that a true smile made her seem soft, she frowned again in her usual hard way and hunched over her bowl to continue eating her stew and bread in earnest.
Skade grinned. “All this slurping does sound kinda icky now that I think about it. Fortunately, we were taught a quieter way to eat for when we venture out into other worlds.”
When Freya reached over to stab some peas with the tip of her knife to add to her stew, they surprised her by boinging away. She drew back. “Whah?”
“Oops, forgot to mention that the vegetables here are picky about who eats them. You have to catch the ones you want to add to your stew. Approach them with self-assurance or they’ll escape,” instructed Skade.
“I don’t know. I’d feel kind of bad eating food that doesn’t want to be eaten,” mused Balder.
Angerboda rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. The veggies don’t mind if you eat them. They just want you to prove you are determined enough and, you know, worthy of eating them.”
To illustrate what Angerboda meant, Skade whipped out her hand and snatched up some green peas still in their pods. “Gotcha!” she exclaimed. The pods wriggled within her closed fist, trying to escape, but she held on tight. “Stop fighting my will and become my meal. For I am Skade the strong and you are but weak, tasty peas.” Hearing that, the peas seemed to decide that she was in fact worthy of eating them. They relaxed and she slit open the pods and tossed the peas into her stew bowl.
“Hiya, everyone. Hey, Balder, how’s that protective shield of oaths that Odin’s ravens are gathering working out for you?” asked a familiar voice.
Loki! That tricky boygod was holding a bowl of stew and making a place for himself at the table by Yanis, on a stump across from Balder. What in the nine worlds was he doing here?
9 Food Fight
WITH A LOOK OF CONFUSION, Thor leaned forward and cocked his h
ead toward Loki, who now sat at the far end of the table from him. “I didn’t know you were coming to Jotunheim.”
Loki shrugged. “I wasn’t. But school’s out for the weekend, and my Yellow Fellows”—his nickname for his magic yellow shoes— “will fly me anywhere fast. So I figured why not come stay the night with you guys and hang around to cheer you on tomorrow?”
With that, Loki picked up a plum and tossed it up and down in the palm of one hand a couple of times. A mischievous grin came over his face as he glanced Balder’s way once more. “So? Do you think Hugin and Munin have already secured an oath from a plum to never do you harm? Since they were getting promises from everything, I mean?”
“Why would Odin’s ravens bother to get a promise from a plum? A plum couldn’t harm anyone,” remarked Ull, while helping himself to more bread and butter.
“I guess someone could choke on one, maybe?” suggested Honir after swallowing a spoonful of the bean stew.
Balder grinned. “The protection deadline is tomorrow morning—Saturday. So, I don’t know if I’m protected from everything that could harm me yet or not, Loki. I didn’t have any nightmares last night, which is a good sign. But go ahead and plum-bomb me if you want to test what happens.” So saying, he pushed his stump stool back a bit from the table. Facing Loki, he offer himself as a target by spreading his arms wide.
Loki’s face lit with impish glee. His dark-blue eyes darted sideways for an instant, toward the table of fire giants seated not far away. It was as if he was hoping they’d notice him. They hadn’t, though. And, anyway, why does he care? Skade wondered.
Quickly Loki leaped up from his stool and stepped back from the table a few feet. Then he wound up his arm and let the plum he held fly. Toward Balder!
Thunk! As if there were an invisible stone wall surrounding Balder, the plum stopped about an inch from his nose. Then it abruptly it dropped into his lap. With a look of delight, he picked it up and popped it into his mouth. “Yum! Plum!”
Everyone at their table laughed.
Skade pumped a fist in the air. “Yes! Those ravens really did it! That protective shield Odin sought is working.”
“It’s like there’s an invisible force field around you!” exclaimed Yanis, as she and Malfrid clapped in delight.
“I’m invincible!” said Balder. “Awesome. Food-bomb me some more,” he begged the others. “This could be superfun!”
He didn’t have to ask his friends twice. They began to pelt him with various veggies and chunks of bread. All bounced off him to hit the floor, and the students kept going.
Ull threw a hail of berries at Balder. This time, they boinged off and smacked the heads of some frost giants sitting nearby. Oops!
At the same moment, Loki launched a volley of hazelnuts at Balder. These bounced off to rain down on the fire giants’ table. Plop! Plop! Plop! Soup sloshed out of bowls. Some of it splashed onto the flame-decorated sweater of one of the fire giants, who was not amused. He shoved back from the table, knocking over his stool. Then he turned a fierce and fiery glare on those at surrounding tables.
Skade eyed the wood stump on which he had been seated. It had been scorched by the heat he gave off! Ymir’s elbows! The soup-splashed fire giant was none other than Surt! Or rather, Stupendously Scary Surt the Fire Giant, as she had mentally nicknamed him.
All the hotheaded (literally!) fire giants leaped to their booted feet and flew into battle mode, enlarging to five times Gruntery-acceptable size. Giant hands grabbed nuts, cheese chunks, fruits, and veggies from platters on feast tables. Arms drew back and fists clenched. They glared in every direction, unsure where to aim their ammo-food, but ready to pummel whoever was responsible. But then they all paused. Because the fire giants had no idea who had thrown the hazelnuts that had fallen into Surt’s soup!
Any kind of battle was serious business, Skade knew. If something wasn’t done to cut the tension and calm things down, this could definitely spin out of control! She jumped up to stand. Forcing a grin, she called out, “Sorry about you getting splashed, Surt. It was an accident, promise.” When he only glared at her, she hurriedly went on.
“Most of you probably don’t know this,” she shouted to the room at large, “but tossing food during dinner is considered sort of a sport where I go to school at Asgard Academy. It’s called a food fight. And it’s just for fun. Right, Freya?” Turning toward Freya, Skade shot her a look and then tossed a few berries across the table at her.
Quickly catching on to what Skade was trying to do, Freya tossed some pea pods back at her. Both girls giggled.
“See?” said Skade, turning back to the giants with her hands outspread. “Food fight. Get it? It’s a pretend battle, and it’s fun. Try it!”
Surt frowned. Then, very slowly, he picked up a hazelnut. And tossed it at Skrymir! Who then tossed a plum back. A few seconds passed. Then each tossed back another bit of fruit. And more, and more still.
Other giants and students from the various worlds began to imitate them. Peas landed in Surt’s hair and instantly went up in flames. Zzzt! Berries landed in Skrymir’s hair and froze on impact. Soon many students were grinning and lobbing food. Before long, almost everyone in the Gruntery had joined in the fun. Wild plums, strawberries, auk eggs, and carrots were arcing high overhead to whack students way on the far side of the room. Thwack! Splat!
As Skade lobbed a handful of carrot slices toward another table, she couldn’t help laughing merrily. A food fight probably wasn’t what Odin had had in mind as a way to help all the worlds learn to get along. But, hey, whatever worked, right? Not only was the Gruntery filled with laughter now, but students from different schools had also begun to mingle. Giants were bumping congratulatory fists with dwarfs. Humans offered compliments on giants’ good throws and vice versa.
After a while, some students started taking off for the two igloos, still chatting and grinning and brushing away crumbs and splats of food from their clothing. “Ready to go?” Skade called to her friends.
“I am!” Yanis said.
“Me too,” said Freya.
“Me three,” added Malfrid.
“Let’s make a run for it!” yelled Thor.
The whole AA team bolted for the Gruntery door, giggling and dodging flying food. Luckily they weren’t leaving behind much messy cleanup for later because the dogs were happily scampering here and there to wolf down any ammo-food that hit the floor. However, as Skade raced from the table, she slid on a smooshed plum they’d missed. Her friends continued onward, not noticing. As she felt herself begin to slip, her arms spun.
A hand reached out to her. She grabbed onto it before she could hit the floor, then looked up to see…Njord? He’d helped her? “Uh…thanks,” she said in surprise, letting go of his hand as soon as she regained her balance.
“No problem,” Njord replied, tucking his hands into his pockets. He looked around the room, then back at her. They were standing near the stage at one end of the room out of the line of food-fight fire. And as more students were leaving the Gruntery, less food was flying anyway.
“Well—” Skade began, making a move to go.
“That was smart thinking, what you said to the giants about food fights,” Njord blurted out. “You probably saved us all from disaster.”
Huh? Now Njord was complimenting her? Weird. She stared at him, half wondering if someone had put a magical niceness spell on him.
“So, um, have you decided who your aerial ski tricks partner’s going to be in tomorrow’s competition?” he asked before she could head off.
Skade stiffened. Aha! So Njord was only being nice to her right now because he was hoping she’d choose him to be her partner? “No,” she snapped.
He nodded, looking as if he wanted to say more. And for just a second, something in his earnest eyes made her wonder if maybe Njord felt a happy-melty feeling toward her. When her eyes rounded in surprise, all he did was mutter, “Yeah, okay. See ya,” before moving out the door.
Fr
om somewhere nearby, she heard Yanis, Malfrid, and Freya chatting. They must have noticed she wasn’t with them and had come back to find her. Freya was staring at the cafeteria’s curtained stage. “I was talking to a frost giant earlier,” she said to Skade as the girls came together. “He told me that tomorrow morning all the boys who want to be considered as a partner for the aerial ski tricks competition will be invited to line up on this stage behind the curtain.”
“Behind the curtain?” Skade repeated, puzzled.
Freya nodded. “Yeah, and then you and those other two girls that finaled in the competition will blindly choose a partner by pointing to their boots.”
Malfrid cocked her head. “That’s a weird way to do things. Unless the girls know a boy by his boots, they might not choose who they really want as a partner.”
“Yeah, you could accidentally wind up with a poor skier,” Freya said.
Skade flinched. This was exactly what she’d been thinking. Studying her, Yanis asked, “Who would you choose if you could pick any boy?”
“Hmm, let me think,” said Skade tapping two fingers on her chin. Honir was a great cross-country skier, but he wasn’t skilled at jumps. Ull and Thor had great power at downhill skiing, but as far as she knew, they weren’t interested in performing acrobatic stunts. She didn’t want to end up with that annoying Skrymir, either, or even worse—Surt! She didn’t know anything about the skiers from other worlds—not really.
She certainly didn’t want to partner with any of the boys who’d laughed at her dancing in history class, so that ruled Njord out. Besides, she was almost positive he’d only complimented her on calming the giants to butter her up so she’d choose him as her partner. Which wasn’t nice at all!
Hold up…Balder! He was genuinely nice. He’d tried to stop others from making fun of her dancing yesterday. Plus, he was a good all-around skier who was outstanding at trick jumps. Such kindness and skill should be rewarded.
“I’d choose Balder,” she told her waiting friends.
A grin curved Freya’s lips. “Somebody’s crushing,” she singsonged.
