Thor Is Locked in My Garage!

by Robert J. Harris

  “I think they’ve seen my movie Ace of Wings one too many times,” said the actor with a twinkle in his eye.

  “I was just watching one of your films last week,” said Mum, “the romantic one where you’re chasing after that girl in Geneva.”

  “Swiss Kiss,” said Makepeace. “Yeah, that’s one of my favourites. Did you know we spent three days filming that scene where we dance in the fountain?”

  “I remember watching you years ago in that teenage TV show Atlantis High Adventures,” said Mrs Spinetti.

  “Whoa there, Theresa!” said Makepeace. “Don’t start dragging out my baby pictures.”

  “Now don’t ruin your appetite,” said Mum, noticing how they were all guzzling digestive biscuits and custard creams. “Theresa and I have whipped up a big dinner for everybody.”

  “It’s not turkey and Christmas pudding, is it?” laughed Susie.

  “We couldn’t quite manage that,” said her mother, “but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

  Once the table was laid they all sat down while Mr and Mrs Spinetti ferried dishes of spaghetti and meatballs out of the kitchen, all of it in a delicious-smelling sauce.

  Thor limped in, leaning on a crutch made from an old mop handle. Every move he made appeared to hurt him, much as he tried to hide it, but he refused all offers of help.

  “The smell of that food is all I need to get me to the table,” he joked.

  Mrs Spinetti said a blessing over the meal, then everybody tucked in. Soon their plates were piled high with spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. Thor and Garth Makepeace joined Dad and Mr Spinetti in having a glass of home brew.

  “Say, you should go into business with this stuff, George,” said Makepeace, smacking his lips. “It really hits the spot.”

  “It is worthy to be drunk in Valhalla,” Thor agreed, draining his glass.

  “Easy there, Sven,” Dad cautioned him. “It can go straight to your head. Especially on top of those painkillers.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” said Thor, giving him a wink. “I grew up drinking mead that would flatten a troll.”

  Mr Spinetti laid his fork aside and eyed the youngsters. “Now that we’re all here, do you not think it’s about time you told us what you’ve been up to all day?”

  Lewis cleared his throat nervously. “Well, it’s kind of complicated.”

  “That’s right,” said Susie. “It’s hard to know where to begin.”

  “Stolen antiquities,” Greg declared loudly.

  Dad stared at him. “Antiquities?”

  “The guy who calls himself Larry O’Keefe is really an international art thief.” Greg was chewing on a meatball and swallowed it before carrying on. “He stole a lot of valuable antiquities from the National Museum of Scandivaria.”

  Lewis groaned inwardly. He wished there was some way he could stop Greg concocting another ludicrous story, but interrupting him would only make things worse.

  “Scandivaria?” said Mrs Spinetti. “Where is that exactly?”

  “It’s one of those Norwegian countries, you know,” said Greg.

  Lewis was horrified to see Susie nodding. “That’s right, Mum.”

  “So, anyway, this Larry character steals these treasures and hides them in St Andrews,” Greg continued relentlessly.

  “You mean like the hammer Sven found in our garage?” said Dad.

  “Correct!” said Greg, stabbing a finger in the air. “You see Sven is one of the SAPS.”

  “Saps?” said Mr Spinetti.

  “The Scandivarian Antiquities Protection Squad. He’s been sent to get the treasures back. Haven’t you, Sven?”

  Thor was busy shovelling spaghetti into his mouth but he nodded in confirmation.

  “I don’t quite see what any of this has to do with Garth,” said Mum.

  “I’m, uh, hanging out with Sven as research for my next film, Treasures of the Hidden Kingdom,” said Makepeace, flashing a charming smile. “Now, we’re strangers in this area, so the kids were helping us find our way around.”

  “Isn’t it a bit dangerous, chasing after international criminals?” asked Mr Spinetti with a frown.

  Makepeace laughed. “That Larry is a cream puff,” he said. “He couldn’t hurt a fly if it was tied up and blindfolded.”

  “So what happened to Sven?” asked Mrs Spinetti. “He looks like a bus fell on him.”

  “I slipped on the ice,” said Thor, pouring himself another glass of home brew. He pushed away his empty plate and smacked his lips. “Is there any dessert?”

  There was trifle, with cream and custard. Lots of it. By the time they were done, Lewis was so stuffed he could hardly move. Loki and his evil plans seemed a million miles away from this feast.

  Once the table was cleared, even Susie looked exhausted.

  “We’ve put out camp beds and sleeping bags, so everybody should have a good night’s sleep,” said Mrs Spinetti.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Greg yawned. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

  The brothers had been set up in the music room. They unpacked the bags they had brought from home earlier and got into their pyjamas.

  “It doesn’t feel right, going to sleep while Loki’s out there with the Yggdrasil Seed,” said Lewis, zipping himself into his sleeping bag.

  “Relax,” yawned Greg, thumping his head down on his pillow. “Nothing’s going to grow in this weather, not even a magic tree.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Lewis. And in spite of his worrying, he was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

  He awoke with a start to find Susie was shaking them both out of their sleep.

  “Wake up, you guys! Come and see what’s happened!”

  “Now what?” moaned Greg, rubbing his eyes.

  “It’s springtime!” Susie announced. “The sun’s out and the snow’s melting.”

  Lewis tried to leap out of bed but got tangled in his sleeping bag and rolled on to the floor with a thud. When he made it to the window he saw it was true. There was a brilliant summer sun in the sky and there were only a few traces of snow left on the hedges and trees.

  “The trouble is,” said Greg, “this could be bad news.”

  “Right,” Lewis agreed. “If Loki’s switched off the winter, he must have a good reason.”

  “You don’t suppose he’s flown back to his own planet, do you?” Susie suggested hopefully.

  “Don’t you remember, Sven told us he wants to get back to Asgard,” said Lewis, “the home of the gods.”

  “Oh, yes, like that’s not an alien planet or anything,” Susie retorted with heavy sarcasm.

  “Let’s go talk to Sven,” Greg suggested.

  Thor was bedded down in the room that used to belong to Susie’s older brother Frankie. He was propped up on his pillows flicking through one of the film magazines Frankie had left behind. “There’s a lot of pictures of that Makepeace in here,” he grunted. “You would think he was a big shot.”

  “Sven, the snow’s all melted,” Susie reported.

  “Loki must be up to something,” said Greg.

  Thor laid the magazine aside and grimaced. “He will be planting the seed to grow the new Yggdrasil.”

  “Where?” asked Lewis.

  Thor pondered for a few moments then said, “It will be on high ground, most likely a place of mystic power.”

  “Mystic power?” echoed Greg. “That’s not something they put on a map.”

  “How about Hallowhill?” Susie offered.

  “That’s a good bet,” Lewis agreed. “The name Hallow means holy and there are Pictish graves up there.”

  “That sounds pretty mystical to me,” said Greg. “How about it, Sven?”

  Thor nodded grimly. “You should check it out.”

  “You can see it from my bedroom window,” said Susie. “Come on!”

  The boys followed her upstairs. The walls of her room were covered in posters of football and hockey players and the shelves
behind her bed were packed with sporting trophies.

  The three of them crowded round the window and stared over the rooftops towards Hallowhill. “Oh, isn’t that just great!” Greg exclaimed.

  Hallowhill was swathed in a thick cloud of mist that rose like a huge smoky column high up into the clouds.

  “I suppose that could be water vapour from the melting snow,” said Susie.

  “It might be,” Greg agreed, “but I’ll bet you anything that Loki’s wrapped a mist around Hallowhill to hide what he’s up to.”

  When they reported back to Thor, he agreed with their conclusion. “He is hiding the Yggdrasil from view while it grows.”

  He tried to climb out of bed but his leg gave out under him and Greg and Lewis had to catch him. “It’s no good,” he groaned as the boys helped him settle back against his pillows. “You’ll have to go without me. But you must catch up with Loki and stop him.”

  “Should we tell Mum and Dad?” asked Lewis.

  “By the time we explain it all to them, Loki will be long gone,” said Greg. “No, it’s us or nobody.”

  “What about Garth?” said Lewis. “Maybe he’ll want in on this.”

  “I looked in on him,” said Susie. “He’s completely zonked out.”

  “Too much of the home brew,” said Thor. “Best leave him to sleep it off.”

  “We could still do with some help,” said Lewis anxiously.

  “You have the two treasures,” Thor reminded him, “the Ring Draupnir and the Shoes of Vidar. Use them wisely and the victory will be yours.”

  “It’s all right for them,” Susie complained. “What about me? I don’t have a treasure.”

  “You shall have the greatest treasure of all,” said Thor. He leaned down to pick Mjolnir from the floor and offered it to her. “To replace the hockey stick you lost.”

  Susie took the hammer and swung it from side to side in her hand.

  “How is she doing that?” Greg exclaimed. “I couldn’t even lift it.”

  “Mjolnir can only be wielded by me,” Thor explained, “or a person I entrust it to.”

  Susie tossed the hammer into the air and caught it as easily as she would catch a tennis ball.

  “Now, Susie, you are a warrior maid of Asgard,” Thor told her.

  Susie grinned. “Cool!”

  “We can’t waste a second,” Greg reminded them. “Let’s go!”

  They dressed quickly and set out on the path leading to Hallowhill. Greg moved along briskly; the Shoes of Vidar made it hard not to break into a run. Susie had Mjolnir tucked into the straps of her backpack. Lewis fingered the ring in his pocket. It didn’t feel like much protection against whatever Loki was likely to throw at them.

  When they arrived at the foot of hill, the quiet flow of the Kinnessburn below them had been transformed into a rushing torrent by the melted snow. The trees that dotted the lower levels of the slope were still flecked with white. Above and beyond them the great bank of mist completely enveloped the summit. They climbed up to the edge of the misty wall and stared up. It seemed to go on and on forever, right up to the sky.

  Greg drew a deep breath. “Okay, this is it. We don’t want anybody getting lost in there, so stick together.”

  “Give me your hands and hold tight,” said Susie. “That way we can’t get separated.”

  Hands joined, they plunged into the mist and were swallowed up in a shroud of darkness.

  13. Turn Left at Niflheim

  Susie’s fingers were interlocked tightly with the boys’ as the three of them walked through the murk, their boots crunching on the frosty grass. The higher they climbed, the thinner the mist grew, until they could glimpse something of immense bulk looming ahead. Eyes fixed on the dark shape, they pressed on until the mist cleared to reveal an amazing sight.

  “Wow!” said Lewis.

  “Wow is right,” Greg agreed.

  Susie gazed upwards, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s an impressive piece of bioengineering, that’s for sure,” she said.

  The newly created Yggdrasil had roots like bridge cables that had burrowed deep down into the hill. The trunk of the great tree was thirty metres across. It rose up like a skyscraper, soaring higher and higher to vanish among the clouds.

  “That is the biggest tree I have ever seen,” said Greg.

  “I expect it’s the biggest tree anyone’s ever seen,” said Lewis.

  “Up until now I always thought Jack and the Beanstalk was just a story,” said Susie in an awestruck voice.

  “It’s going to be a tough climb,” said Greg.

  “Maybe not,” said Lewis. “Take a closer look.”

  Following his pointing finger, the other two saw that there was a narrow ledge jutting out from the trunk. It went right around the tree, passing between the branches and winding upwards, like a spiral stairway leading up to the sky. “It’s like a track running up to the top,” said Lewis.

  “Well, that makes things a lot easier,” said Greg with a grin.

  “And to think I brought rope and everything,” said Susie, plucking at the straps of her backpack. She sounded a little disappointed.

  “It makes sense,” said Lewis. “If the Yggdrasil is supposed to link the Nine Realms of the Universe, like Thor said, there would have to be a path you could follow.”

  “Come on then,” said Greg. “We don’t have any time to waste if we’re going to catch up with Loki.”

  He hurried to the base of the tree and started up the spiral path. They went up in single file with Susie following Greg and Lewis bringing up the rear. After a while Greg stopped to catch his breath. “Is everybody okay?” he asked.

  Lewis took the chance to look down and wished he hadn’t. The summit of Hallowhill was a green blur far below. Overhead, he could see stars blinking through the mist.

  “We’re fine, Greg. Stop slacking,” said Susie.

  Greg grunted at her and resumed the climb. When they at last drew clear of the mist they were surrounded by brilliant starlight and the immense tree stretched endlessly away into the void above them.

  “This is completely impossible,” said Lewis. “It looks like we’re climbing up into outer space.”

  “We’re in some kind of dimensional rift,” Susie told him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t worry?!” Lewis exclaimed. Susie paid no attention, so he decided to save his breath for the climb.

  All around them leafy branches stretched out across the starry sky. The leaves were bright green, veined with silver. When Lewis laid a hand against the bark it felt smooth and soft, just what you’d expect, he supposed, from a tree that was newly born that morning.

  An excited cry from Greg made him look up. His brother had arrived at a great branch that extended directly outward from the spiral path they had been following. When Lewis and Susie caught up with him, they saw that it was completely level and flattened on the top, so that it would be easy to walk along it.

  “This must be the way to Asgard,” Greg declared.

  “How can you be sure of that?” Lewis asked dubiously.

  “Well, there isn’t a signpost, if that’s what you want, but it’s the first route off the tree.”

  “There’s a mist out there, kind of like the one we came through down below,” said Susie. “Maybe Loki’s using it to cover his tracks again.”

  “We don’t have time to mess about,” said Greg. “Let’s go!”

  He set out boldly along the wooden path. Susie and Lewis fell into step behind him and they marched towards the cloud bank. When the first wisps of mist touched Lewis’ face, he felt the hairs on his neck bristle and had a powerful impulse to turn back.

  “Maybe this isn’t the right way,” he said.

  “Will you stop complaining?” Greg snapped. “We’ll know soon enough.”

  They entered the cloud and it swirled about them, chilly and dank. Unlike the mist surrounding the foot of the Yggdrasil, it clung to them as if it was trying to seep through their
skin into their bones. Lewis kept his eyes on his feet, nervous of stepping off the path.

  Susie said abruptly, “Hey, we’re not on wood any more.”

  Greg stamped his feet. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s solid ground.”

  They carried on and the mist gradually thinned to allow them glimpses of an unearthly landscape. Narrow spires of pale rock stretched up like skeletal fingers while the ground on all sides was covered in heaps of dry, white ash. Tendrils of mist twisted and coiled about them, clutching them in a chill embrace.

  As they pressed forward, they bunched together protectively. Straining his eyes in the gloom, Lewis was sure he could make out shadowy figures drifting by silently at the extreme edge of his vision. “There’s something moving out there,” he said softly. Something about the place made him want to whisper.

  “And do you hear that noise?” said Susie.

  “It’s just the wind,” said Greg, though he didn’t sound confident.

  “There isn’t any wind,” Susie pointed out.

  “It sounds like… voices,” said Lewis.

  But they weren’t like any voices he had ever heard before. They were shrill, keening a high-pitched, eerie song filled with sadness and dread.

  “This doesn’t feel much like Asgard,” said Greg, “not unless the gods have an extremely creepy decorating style.”

  Suddenly Susie squealed. The shock made Lewis jump. He wasn’t used to her being frightened.

  Greg grabbed her by the shoulder. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Susie trembled. “Something touched me. It felt like fingers… fingers made of ice.”

  Lewis spotted one of the shadow forms drifting by then disappearing into the mist.

  “What was that?” Susie breathed.

  Greg shot Lewis a demanding look. “Come on, Lewis, you’re the expert. Where are we?”

  “I’ll find out,” said Lewis. He slipped the ring onto his finger and immediately felt a buzzing in his head. It took a moment for his thoughts to clear then he said, “Oh, no!”

  “What is it?” Susie asked anxiously.

  “We’re in Niflheim,” said Lewis, “the Kingdom of Ghosts.”

  Greg swallowed hard. “Lewis, have you any idea how completely bad that sounds?”