فصل 50

No Spoilers. Thor Is Way Behind on His Shows

YEP. WE KILLED THE GOATS.

Thor promised they would be resurrected good as new the next morning, so long as we didn’t break any bones. Otis assured me frequent death was good for his exposure therapy. Marvin growled at me to get on with it and not be a weak-kneed wimp.

It was a lot easier killing Marvin.

After two years of homelessness, I thought I knew how tough it could be to keep myself fed, but let me tell you: killing and butchering an animal for my own supper was a new experience. You think it’s gross to pull a half-eaten sandwich out of a trash bin? Try skinning a goat, cutting it into chunks, building a fire, then cooking the meat on a spit while attempting to ignore the goat heads staring at you from the scrap pile.

You might assume that kind of experience would turn me into a vegetarian. But nope. As soon as I smelled the cooking meat, my hunger took over. I forgot all about the horrors of goat slaughter. Those Otis-kebabs were the best things I ever tasted.

As we ate, Thor chatted about giants, Jotunheim, and his opinions of Midgard television shows, which, for some reason, he followed religiously. (Can I say a god did something religiously?)

“Giants!” He shook his head in disgust. “After all these centuries, you’d think they would learn to stop invading Midgard. But no! They’re like the…what is it? The League of Assassins in Arrow! They just keep coming back! As if I would let anything happen to humans! You guys are my favorite species!”

He patted my cheek. Fortunately, he had taken off his iron gloves, or he would’ve broken my jaw. Unfortunately, he hadn’t washed his hands after gutting the goats.

Hearthstone sat at the fire, nibbling on a piece of Marvin haunch. He was getting some of his strength back, though every time I looked at him I had to force myself not to sob. I wanted to hug the poor guy, bake him a batch of cookies, and tell him how sorry I was about his crappy childhood, but I knew he wouldn’t want pity. He wouldn’t want me to start treating him differently.

Still…the empty cup runestone weighed heavily in my coat pocket.

Sam stayed at the edge of the fire, as far from Thor as she could get. She said as little as possible and made no sudden movements, which meant that most of Thor’s attention was on me.

Everything the thunder god did, he did with gusto. He loved cooking his goats. He loved eating and drinking mead. He loved telling stories. And he loved farting. Boy, did he love farting. When he got excited, sparks of electricity flew from his hands, his ears, and…well, I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

Unlike his movie version, there was nothing polished about Thor. His face was handsome in a beat-up way, like he’d spent years in the boxing ring. His chain mail was filthy. His leather jerkin and trousers had worn to the color of dirty snow. Tattoos covered his muscular arms. On his left biceps, SIF was inscribed inside a heart. Around his right forearm coiled a stylized World Serpent. Across his knuckles on either hand, in block letters, were the names MAGNI and MODI. At first I was nervous about the name Magni, because it was so close to Magnus—the last thing I wanted was my name printed across the thunder god’s fist—but Sam assured me, quietly, that it was a totally different name.

Thor regaled me with his theories about a hypothetical death match between Daryl from The Walking Dead and Mike from Breaking Bad. Back when I was hanging out on the sidewalks of Boston, I would’ve been happy to talk TV for hours just to pass the time, but now I had a quest looming. We’d lost a whole day to unconsciousness. Speculating on the new fall lineup wasn’t going to mean much if the world was consumed in flames three days from now.

Still, Thor was having so much fun it was hard to change the subject.

“So what do you think?” he asked. “Best villain in an ongoing series?”

“Uh…wow, tough one.” I pointed at his knuckles. “Who are Magni and Modi?”

“My sons!” Thor beamed. With the goat grease in his beard and the random electrical sparks flying from his fingers, I was worried he might set himself on fire. “I’ve got a lot of sons, of course, but they’re my favorites.”

“Yeah?” I asked. “How old are they?”

He frowned. “Ah, this is embarrassing, but I’m not sure. They might not even be born yet.”

“How—?”

“Magnus,” Sam interrupted, “Lord Thor’s two sons Magni and Modi are fated to survive Ragnarok. Their names are spoken in the prophecies of the Norns.”

“That’s right!” Thor leaned toward Sam. “Who are you again?”

“Uh…Sam, my lord.”

“You have a familiar aura, girl.” The god furrowed his red eyebrows. “Why is that?”

“I was a Valkyrie…?” Sam inched backward.

“Oh. Maybe that’s it.” Thor shrugged. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve been on three thousand five hundred and six consecutive deployments to the eastern front, keeping the giants at bay. I get a little jumpy sometimes.”

Hearthstone signed, And gassy.

Thor belched. “What did the elf say? I do not speak Gesticulation.”

“Um, he was wondering how you keep current on television,” I said, “seeing as you’re out in the field so much.”

Thor laughed. “I have to do something to keep myself sane!”

Hearthstone signed: How’s that working out for you?

“The elf agrees!” Thor guessed. “I can watch my shows anywhere, or at least I could. Among its many other powers, my hammer Mjolnir got full bars of service and HD resolution in any of the Nine Worlds!”

“Got, past tense?” Sam asked.

Thor cleared his throat loudly. “But enough about television! How’s that goat meat? You didn’t break any bones, did you?”

Sam and I exchanged looks. When we’d first introduced ourselves to the god, I’d found it strange that Thor didn’t have his hammer. It was sort of his signature weapon. I’d figured maybe it was just in disguise, like my sword. Now I was starting to wonder. His piercing bloodshot gaze made me think it might be dangerous to ask, though.

“Uh, no, sir,” I said. “We didn’t break any bones. Just theoretically, what would happen if we did?”

“The goats would be resurrected with that damage,” he said. “Which would take a long time to heal and be very annoying. Then I’d either have to kill you or make you my slave forever.”

Hearthstone signed, This god is a freak.

“You’re right, Mr. Elf,” Thor said. “It is a fair and just punishment! That’s how I got my regular manservant, Thjalfi.” Thor shook his head. “Poor kid. These deployments were starting to get to him. I had to grant him a furlough. I really could use another slave…” He studied me appraisingly.

“So…” I set aside my goat meat. “How did you end up in the river, and why was that giantess trying to drown you?”

“Oh, her.” Thor glowered at the neighborhood-size corpse in the middle of the icy swamp. “She’s a daughter of Geirrod, one of my old enemies. I hate that guy. He’s always sending his daughters to kill me.” He gestured toward the cliffs. “I was heading to his fortress to see if—Well, no matter. Thank you for the assist. That was Frey’s sword, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Jack’s around here somewhere.” I whistled. Jack came hovering over.

“Hello, Thor,” said the sword. “Long time no see.”

“Ha!” The god clapped his hands in delight. “I thought I recognized you. But isn’t your name Sumarbrander? Why did the human call you Jorvik?”

“Jack,” the sword corrected.

“Yak.”

“No,” the sword said patiently. “Jack, with the English jay sound.”

“Okay, fine. Well, nice job with the giantess.”

“You know what they say.” Jack sounded smug. “The bigger they are, the easier it is to fly up their nasal cavity.”

“True,” Thor said. “But I thought you were lost. How did you come to be with these strange folk?”

He calls us strange? Hearthstone signed.

“Lord Thor,” Sam said, “we actually came here looking for you. We need your help, as Magnus will now explain.” She stared at me like, If he knows what’s good for him.

I told Thor about the Norns’ prophecy—nine days hence, sun going east, Surt explodes everything, Fenris Wolf, nasty teeth, eats world, et cetera.

Thor became agitated. Sparks flew from his elbows. He rose and paced around the fire, occasionally punching nearby trees.

“You want me to tell you where the island is,” he deduced.

“That would be great,” I said.

“But I can’t,” Thor muttered to himself. “I can’t be sending random mortals on wolf-watching tours. Too dangerous. But Ragnarok. Not ready. No. Not unless—” He froze, then turned toward us with an eager gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps that’s why you’re here.”

I do not like this, Hearthstone signed.

Thor nodded. “The elf agrees! You have come to assist me!”

“Exactly!” said Jack, humming with excitement. “Let’s do it, whatever it is!”

I had a sudden desire to hide behind the goat carcasses. Anything the god of thunder and the Sword of Summer agreed on, I didn’t want to be part of.

Sam placed her ax at her side, as if she anticipated needing it soon. “Let me guess, Lord Thor: you’ve lost your hammer again.”

“Now, I did not say that!” Thor wagged a finger at her. “You did not hear that from me. Because if that were true, hypothetically speaking, and if word got out, the giants would invade Midgard immediately! You mortals don’t realize how often I keep you safe. My reputation alone makes most giants too afraid to attack your world.”

“Back up,” I said. “What did Sam mean by again? You’ve lost your hammer before?”

“Once,” Thor said. “Okay, twice. Three times if you count this time, which you shouldn’t, because I am not admitting that the hammer is missing.”

“Right…” I said. “So how did you lose it?”

“I don’t know!” Thor started to pace again, his long red hair sparking and popping. “It was just like…Poof! I tried retracing my steps. I tried the Find My Hammer app, but it doesn’t work!”

“Isn’t your hammer the most powerful weapon in the universe?” I asked.

“Yes!”

“And I thought it was so heavy nobody except you could pick it up.”

“True. Even I need my iron gloves of strength to lift it! But giants are tricky. They’re big and strong and they have magic. With them, many impossible things are possible.”

I thought about the eagle Big Boy and how easily he’d suckered me. “Yeah, I get it. Is that why you were going to A-Rod’s?”

“Geirrod’s,” Thor corrected. “And, yes. He’s a likely suspect. Even if he doesn’t have it, he might know who does. Besides, without my hammer I can’t watch my shows. I’m a season behind on Sherlock and it’s killing me! I was ready to go to Geirrod’s fortress myself, but I’m very glad you volunteered to go for me!”

We did? Hearthstone asked.

“That’s the spirit, Mr. Elf! I’m glad you are ready to die for my cause!”

Really not, Hearth signed.

“Just go to Geirrod’s fortress and check for my hammer. Of course it’s important you don’t let on that it is missing. If Geirrod doesn’t have it, we don’t want him to know that I don’t have it. But, you know, if he doesn’t have it, obviously ask him if he knows who does, without actually admitting that it’s missing.”

Samirah pressed her fingers to her temples. “I’m getting a headache. Lord Thor, how are we supposed to find your hammer if we can’t mention—”

“You’ll figure it out!” he said. “You humans are a clever bunch. Then, once you’ve determined the truth, I will know you are worthy of facing Fenris Wolf. I’ll give you the location of his island and you can stop Ragnarok. You help me, I help you.”

It sounded more like You help me, then you help me some more, but I doubted there was a polite way to decline without getting an iron gauntlet in my teeth.

Sam must have been thinking the same thing. Her face turned roughly the same shade of green as her hijab. “Lord Thor,” she said, “invading a giant’s fortress with only three people would be…”

Suicidal, Hearthstone suggested. Stupid.

“Difficult,” Sam said.

Just then, a nearby pine tree shuddered. Blitzen dropped from the branches and landed waist-deep in a pile of slush.

Hearthstone scrambled over and helped him to his feet.

“Thanks, buddy,” Blitz said. “Stupid tree travel. Where—?”

“Is this a friend of yours?” Thor raised one ironclad fist. “Or should I—”

“No! I mean, yes, he’s a friend. Blitzen, Thor. Thor, Blitzen.”

“The Thor?” Blitzen bowed so low it looked like he was trying to avoid an air strike. “Honored. Seriously. Hi. Wow.”

“Well, then!” The thunder god grinned. “You have four people to storm the giant’s citadel! Friend dwarf, help yourself to my goat meat and my fire. As for me, after being stuck in that river so long, I’m going to turn in early. In the morning, you all can set off to find my hammer, which of course is not officially missing!”

Thor tromped over to his bed of furs, threw himself down, and began snoring with as much gusto as he’d been farting.

Blitzen frowned at me. “What have you gotten us into?”

“Long story,” I said. “Here, have some Marvin.”